#g/t vore writing

[voraciousvore]

Voretober Day 17: Rescue

Day 1 | Previous (16) | Next (18)

Content Warning: Unwilling soft safe vore, sexual themes, vomiting

Word Count: 3.8k

“Just stay quiet and let me do all the talking,” Leon advised. 

Joey responded with a terse nod and fumbled with his tie. “Yes, of course.” 

“And try not to fidget so much. Stop looking so nervous. You need to relax.” 

Joey gulped. “Right.” He forced his hands rigidly to his sides and schooled his features into a neutral expression. 

Leon looked him up and down with a skeptical gaze. He rubbed his chin and heaved a heavy sigh. “That’ll do, I suppose. Let’s go.” He opened the metal door in the side of the building behind him and began descending the narrow staircase. Joey glanced around at the dark, deserted streets, flanked by run-down industrial complexes, before following. 

The cement stairs were cracked and worn, so Joey had to watch his feet as he lightly put his weight on each step. The overhead bulbs were stark white and flickered with a loud fluorescent hum at just the right frequency to give him a headache. He focused on the balding patch on the back of Leon’s head in front of him to quell his rising anxiety.  

Leon reached the bottom of the stairs, where another metal door awaited him with a keycard reader. He swiped his card and gave Joey a stern look before twisting the knob. Joey dropped his hands down, realizing only just then that his fingers were fiddling with his tie of their own volition. He stuffed his hands in his pockets to get them out of the way. 

The door opened like a portal to a different dimension, revealing a world in striking contrast to the bland, dingy stairwell. Joey blinked and adjusted his glasses as he was hit with a blur of bright colorful lights amid a sea of green felt. The bubbly jingles of slot machines, accompanied by the solid clinks of coins and chips, rang out amidst the lower drone of masculine voices. Joey wrinkled his nose at the strong odor of cigar smoke and alcohol that hung thick in the air like a haze. 

Leon trotted in with confidence, and Joey matched his gait as he coolly slid alongside him. He furrowed his brow as he scanned the rows of slots and pachinko machines, searching with urgency. 

“Slow down, Joey,” Leon muttered out the side of his mouth. “Take a deep breath.” 

Joey inhaled through his nose in an attempt to remain calm, but only succeeded in choking on a toxic cloud of smoke. His palms were sweating in his pockets and his heart was racing like a ticking time bomb. He nearly jumped out of his skin when a perky waitress with big tits and a very short dress that hardly covered her panties addressed him. 

“Would you like a drink?” she chirped with an excessively peppy affect. She balanced a tray full of glasses on one hand. 

Joey opened his mouth to decline, but Leon interrupted. “Yes, martinis for both of us please.” Joey glanced at him questioningly as the waitress affirmed and scurried off. 

“It would be strange for us not to drink here,” Leon explained. “Or refuse a smoke.” Joey nodded. “Besides, it’ll help you loosen up a bit.” 

They kept moving. Joey restrained his powerful urge to march ahead with purpose, and allowed Leon to take him along a meandering path through the underground casino. As they strolled past the bar, the waitress returned with two drinks. Joey sipped his martini and absently stirred the toothpick with the olive, hoping for some liquid courage. 

He couldn’t help but notice that the clientele were exclusively upper-class men, sharply dressed in expensive suits and groomed to an immaculate polish. Joey had originally believed his disguise would be sufficient, but now he felt shabby by comparison, with his messy hair and dorky glasses. His suit, rented from a pawn shop, was ill-fitted, slightly rumpled, and permeated with the scent of dust and mothballs. Even the hulking security guards lurking on the fringes were better-dressed by comparison. He ran a hand through his hair self-consciously in a futile attempt to smooth down the stray locks. 

Leon guided him further inside the den of debauchery, to the roulette machines and the card tables. As Joey’s eagle eyes surveyed the tables, he stiffened, stopping in his tracks. Each table had a glass dome in the middle, like an enclosed bubble. The interior consisted of what could only be described as a stage, a raised platform with a metal floor. The performers on display were tiny human women less than the height of a single finger, scantily clad, twirling and gyrating in a titillating fashion on miniature stripper poles. Joey observed as a man sat down at one of the tables and pressed a button, causing all the women inside to flinch as if stung and begin to dance. He realized, with a twist in his gut, that the metal plates the girls were standing on delivered electric shocks. 

He clenched his fists in anger and gritted his teeth. “Monsters,” he growled. 

“Easy, Joey,” Leon warned. “Don’t lose it here.” 

Joey huffed but didn’t answer. He struggled to maintain his composure, despite his blood boiling just beneath the surface. His eyes scoured each table frantically as his pulse pounded in his head. Leon frowned with concern but hid his expression behind his drink. 

“Eren!” Joey cried, a bit too loudly. Leon paled as a few faces turned their way. 

“Joey!” he hissed, clapping his hand on his shoulder to stop him from dashing forward. “You’re drawing attention to yourself!” 

“She’s right there,” Joey choked, barely containing himself. At one of the poker tables, under the glass bubble, a diminutive woman with long raven hair was twisting around one of the poles. Her misery was plastered all over her face as a creepy older giant with gray hair leered down at her, his finger hovering over the button to shock her if she stopped. Joey felt like throwing up. 

“I know, I know,” Leon said. “But making a scene is not going to accomplish anything. We need to be smart about this.” 

“But what can we do?” Joey lamented. “I can’t just leave her there! I need to save her!” 

Leon abruptly stiffened, sucking in a sharp breath. Joey felt the fine hairs on the nape of his neck stand on end. He turned around to behold a balding, bearded giant lumbering towards him. He was huge and imposing, both tall in height and broad in girth, and dressed in a black suit of the finest material. He regarded Joey with hard metallic irises that pierced through him like twin blades. 

“Who’s this?” he boomed in a rich stentorian voice. 

“Mr. Wolfe, I’d like you to meet my nephew,” Leon lied, placing a hand on Joey’s shoulder. “Joey, this is Mr. Wolfe, the owner of this casino.” He addressed his boss again. “I believe young Joey here has… potential.” 

“Is that so?” Mr. Wolfe studied Joey intently, from his scuffed shoes to his ragged hair, as if examining a scrawny bug under a magnifying glass. What he saw didn’t seem to impress him much. “Hmph,” he scoffed. 

“Why don’t we sit down to a game of poker?” Leon suggested, spotting an opportunity—a risky one, perhaps, but one that afforded them a chance to rescue Eren. “We can join Mr. Hardon and Mr. Greenwood over there, if they’ll have us.” 

The big man scratched his beard as he continued to stare at Joey in a way that made the younger man want to shrivel up like a raisin. Mr. Wolfe’s metal eyes glinted and he peeled his rubbery lips back into a wolfish grin, like he was fantasizing about eating Joey alive and not just beating him at cards. “You’ve piqued my interest. Let’s test this fresh meat.” 

Mr. Wolfe turned away toward the table, and Joey nearly collapsed after bearing the weight of his gaze for so long. Leon and Joey followed him to the poker table, where two other men were already seated. The gray-haired pervert who had been thirsting over the small women trapped in the dome was introduced to Joey as Mr. Hardon. The other man, Mr. Greenwood, resembled an old-fashioned mob boss, complete with a dark pinstripe suit and a cigar tucked in the corner of his mouth. They both regarded Joey with condescension as he shuffled into his chair. He was thankful to sit down before his quaking legs gave out beneath him. 

“You gents can play without me,” Mr. Hardon announced. “I’m getting bored. I’ll just watch instead.” His pale eyes drifted down to the women in the dome, who were observing the new arrivals warily. With a grin that turned Joey’s stomach, he pressed the shock button and they all jumped in unison. 

For a split second, a murderous expression flashed across Joey’s face and he leaned forward as if about to lunge. Leon swiftly kicked him under the cover of the table to bring him back to his senses. He reigned himself back with a pinched frown. Fortunately, the others were distracted by the tiny women dancing and didn’t notice his aggression. An idea sparked in Leon’s brain. 

“Why don’t we make the game more interesting then?”  he suggested. “We could play for a prize. Whoever wins all the chips gets to choose one of the women for himself.” He plunked his finger on the glass for emphasis. His heart broke as the humans inside trembled, but he didn’t allow any sympathy to break through his stony façade. 

“I’m in!” Mr. Hardon proclaimed, slavering like a mad dog. “Now THAT would be fun!” He looked eagerly over at Mr. Wolfe. 

“I agree, but only under the condition that we at least get to watch the victor eat their prey,” Mr. Greenwood said with a wicked smirk, chewing on the end of his cigar. 

Mr. Wolfe smiled coldly. “Very well.” He gestured to one of the dealers with a flick of his wrist. The dealer divided up the chips, shuffled the cards, and gave each man their hands. Mr. Hardon’s eyes and rows of teeth gleamed as he drooled over the little women, his cards cupped close to his grinning face. Mr. Wolfe was deadpan, completely unreadable. Mr. Greenwood puffed on his cigar impassively. Leon scrutinized each man closely. 

Joey was an honest, earnest young man with many admirable traits, but hiding his emotions was not one of them. He frowned as he peeked at his cards before he caught himself, but the damage was done. He had a terrible poker face and couldn’t manage to pull off a successful bluff. He tentatively placed a bet, only to lose his chips as the more hardened and experienced men saw through him as easily as if he were made of crystal. 

He lost the next hand as well. And the following. The other men were ready to tear him apart like sharks drawn to blood. He began to sweat and fidget under the pressure, polishing his glasses and smoothing the folds in his suit. His tie felt like a boa constrictor around his neck, twisting tighter and tighter. He finally managed to get a decent hand, but his reaction was so blatant that nobody was foolish enough to bet against him. He was losing badly. 

“Cigar?” Mr. Greenwood offered, holding out a box in his palm. Leon, Hardon, and Wolfe all accepted. Joey, recalling Leon’s advice that refusing to smoke would be suspicious, took one as well, oblivious to the fact that he was holding a luxury worth more than he’d ever be able to afford in his life. He bit his lip nervously as he lit the tip. He’d never smoked before. 

Ignorant of the proper way to smoke a cigar, Joey took a drag like he’d seen people do with cigarettes and immediately burst into a coughing fit. Mr. Greenwood chuckled, as did Mr. Hardon, but Mr. Wolfe was not amused. He regarded Joey with disappointed disgust before shooting a scathing glare at Leon, who hid behind his cards and slumped down in his chair like a beat dog. 

As the game wore on, Mr. Wolfe focused on Joey and waxed with increasing wrath and dissatisfaction over the pathetic specimen before him. Joey’s chips were dwindling and he was clearly losing his composure under the pressure, his eyes darting from his cards to his chips to the women in the glass bubble. Eren gazed up at her giant boyfriend with despair as she saw her only way out shrinking with the diminishing pile of chips. 

Joey was almost out of the game by this point. He didn’t have a great hand, but he had no choice but to go all in lest he lose his only chance to retrieve his girl. In an excessive and unnecessary show of force, to really crush the man beneath his heel and demonstrate his supremacy, Mr. Wolfe pushed all his chips forward. “All in.” Joey blanched. 

“Ah, screw it. All in,” Mr. Greenwood grunted, presenting his own pile of chips. Mr. Hardon did the same, grinning with a savage edge. 

“All in,” Leon muttered without confidence, his face puckered. 

“Perfect. Let’s see it, then, Joey,” Mr. Wolfe growled with a grotesque sneer. Joey winced as he flipped his cards to reveal… nothing. His hand was garbage and he knew it. His lips quivered and his eyes moistened. 

Mr. Wolfe let out a slow, sadistic, soft laugh. He was thoroughly enjoying Joey’s pain. He turned over his cards in a dramatic flourish to show off an impressive hand: a pair of aces. Mr. Greenwood and Mr. Hardon frowned as they exposed strong, but inferior, hands. 

Joey began to tremble all over as his mask crumbled. He had lost. He couldn’t save Eren. He considered, briefly, smashing the glass, grabbing her, and bolting, but he knew he wouldn’t make it to the door before security slammed him down. He didn’t even look at Leon’s cards as he put them face-up. The situation was hopeless.  

“Leon, you sly fox,” Mr. Greenwood uttered. “I should’ve known.” Joey snapped out of his spiral to glance over, and was shocked to see Leon also had a pair of cards—tens, not aces, but combined he managed to score three of a kind. Joey blinked away the excess water in his eyes with shock. 

“I win,” Leon proclaimed, a smile stretching out his face. “Allow me to claim my prize, please.” Mr. Wolfe glowered but pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked a panel in the table. He pressed a button and the dome split open and retracted with a smooth whoosh. The humans recoiled with fear, huddling against each other in the middle of the table. They had nowhere to run, since they were surrounded on all sides by giant men. 

Leon hastened to grab up Eren and pull her to safety. He tried his best to be gentle and not squeeze her small frame in his enormous hands, but her terrified squirming made it difficult to maintain a mild grip. She looked over frantically at Joey and opened her mouth to scream his name. Leon swiftly clamped his thumb over her face to muffle her exclamation; he couldn’t have her reveal their connection and unwittingly sabotage their plan. She bit his thumb in response, but her teeth were too small to break the skin or cause any real damage. 

Leon tucked her into his pants pocket, holding his hand over her so she couldn’t escape. His chest tightened as he felt her thrashing through the fabric against his thigh. She didn’t know him; she had no clue he was allied with her boyfriend and was trying to help her. 

“Well, I’ll be off now,” he remarked casually, standing up out of his chair. 

Mr. Wolfe knew he’d been outsmarted, and he was seething. “Hold on, Leon,” he snarled. “We’re not finished here.” 

“Oh, I’m good,” Leon replied. 

“SIT. DOWN.” 

A hush dampened the voices in the room as nearby patrons of the casino were disrupted by his bellowing bass tone. Leon stiffened, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. “Very well, sir,” he answered faintly, lowering himself back into his seat. 

“You’re going to finish what we started here,” Mr. Wolfe demanded. 

“I’d rather save her for later, if that’s okay…” Leon said feebly. His remaining courage had vaporized in an instant as he understood he was at the mercy of his boss. 

“No.” The authoritarian word, as solid as a wall of iron, left no room for negotiation. The big, brutish giant leaned forward in his chair, which squeaked under his prodigious weight, and clasped his hands firmly on the table. “Now. You’re not getting out of this.” Leon’s reluctance to consume humans was known to him, and he wasn’t going to let him slink out unpunished. 

Greenwood and Hardon stared at Leon with ravenous anticipation. Joey looked as if he’d dissipate into smoke. Leon swallowed his misgivings and fished Eren, kicking and screaming, out of his pocket. With a stealthy motion under the table, he shoved a human anti-digestion pill from his other pocket into her hands before squeezing her tightly between his fingers so she had no room to flail her limbs. She fumbled the object with confusion before going very quiet as she registered what she was holding. She began to tremble as she looked up at him with pleading eyes. 

Leon wanted to apologize, to console her, to tell her she was safe and everything would be okay, to let her know she’d soon be reunited with Joey. But he couldn’t. Not a word. He’d jeopardize everything. So, knowing he had no other choice, he opened his mouth and stuffed her in. 

She tasted meaty and tender, like steak. A flood of drool filled his mouth; he gulped it down so she wouldn’t be swimming in his juices. Eren struggled with terror on his tongue and tapped against his teeth, punching them uselessly with miniscule fists. He tried to maneuver her into a more comfortable position for swallowing, so she would go down smoother, but she refused to cooperate. 

He felt terrible as he tried not to imagine what the experience must be like for her. As gently as he could manage, he tilted his tongue up so she would slide into his gullet. He wanted to guide her down his throat slowly, but a kick to his uvula made him choke instead. He sucked her down in a harsh swallow, gripping his neck with pain as she slid through it, crunched up at an awkward angle. His Adam’s apple rippled against his palm and he nearly vomited with revulsion. 

She continued to resist the constricting tunnel around her as she passed through his chest into his stomach. He felt her pushing and clawing, along with her frightened little heart pounding in a panicked cadence that matched his own. She dropped into the void of his gut and he gasped as he realized he could even perceive her tiny feet sinking into his stomach lining and wading through the gastric soup within. He covered his mouth in a dry heave, but fortunately kept down his stomach contents, Eren included. His face turned green with nausea. 

Joey, too, appeared close to vomiting. Mr. Wolfe smirked cruelly at the display, since he knew Leon was not a fan of ingesting humans. Mr. Greenwood rolled his cigar in his hand with satisfaction, and Mr. Hardon seemed close to bursting. 

“Mr. Wolfe? Can I have one too? Pleeeeease?” Hardon begged. “I promise I’ll keep her alive; I don’t even need to eat her! I’ll settle for a lap dance.”  

Mr. Wolfe huffed. “Fine. Whatever.” The lecherous old man snatched up a busty blonde and dragged her under the table to his lap. Leon couldn’t take any more. He heaved himself to his feet and stumbled out, with Joey right behind him. Mr. Wolfe allowed him to leave, following his trail with a frosty squint. 

Leon made it to the staircase and rushed ahead in a tizzy. Eren bounced in his belly with every step. He threw open the metal door to the outside world and slurped the cool, smoke-free night air greedily into his lungs. He ran around to the opposite side of the building, bent over on his knees, and promptly barfed into the alleyway. 

He gasped for breath, holding his stomach with agony as strings of bile trailed from his lips. He spied Eren floundering in the rancid muck like a worm and nearly retched again. “I’m so sorry,” he mumbled. “I’m so, so sorry…” 

“EREN!” Joey exclaimed. Without any regard for how dirty she was, he scooped her up out of the puddle and clasped her to his chest. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m…” She started to cry, snuggling desperately into the folds of his suit. “Joey, I was so scared!” 

“Shhhh, shhhh… you’re safe now, Eren. I’m here,” Joey murmured, petting her wet hair. He teared up as well. “I’m so sorry this happened… and if not for Leon…” His breath hitched in his throat. 

Leon wiped off his mouth and dusted off his knees as he stood up. “You were essential too, Joey. Mr. Wolfe was so fixated on you, he didn’t catch my bluff. Usually he’s more perceptive.” He surveyed the alleyway. “We need to get moving, before someone spots us here.” 

Joey nodded with determination and began to walk briskly, clutching Eren protectively. She looked up at him, along the curve of his chin above her. “What about the other humans? They’re still in danger!” 

“Don’t fret, Eren. I’m wearing a wire and a small camera. I have evidence against them,” Joey assured her. “And Leon has been gathering evidence too, with his involvement in the organization. He’ll provide testimony.” 

“I should’ve done this a long time ago,” Leon muttered in a sorrowful tone, laced with regret. “But once they started snatching up humans, I knew I couldn’t stand by any longer…” 

“I’m glad you were there to aid us,” Joey remarked. “You’re doing the right thing.” As he spoke, he cleaned off Eren with his shirt. 

“Yes,” Leon agreed. He sighed and looked up at the few stars he could see through the light pollution. At least there was something. 

“I love you, Joey,” Eren whimpered, kissing his thumb. Leon felt warmth in his heart at the display. The small things mattered, after all—small and precious, like Eren. 

Joey raised her up to his lips and kissed her back. “I love you too.” 

[smallbigworld]

Heya! I'm Nika.

One of my 2024 goals is to finally start a g/t blog.

I don't talk about those interests to anyone, so I'm looking forward to this.

I plan to post my g/t writing on here as well as random thoughts and dribbles.

Here's a bit about me:

*I'm 23

*I'm autistic

*I'm South African

*I'm a dog & plant mom

*I'm a Queer woman

Let's talk about my g/t interests

*I like being tiny and the prey

*I like fluff, vore, gore, and basically anything to do with g/t

*I've never actually successfully roleplayed with anyone online but I'm open to it.

*These are some of my favorite g/t creators that have inspired me:

@rocko-newjeans @thefanciestborrower @pocket-ozwynn @terristarstrike @reborrowing @friendlyfoxpal @frolix @boiled-ginger-ale @diddlesanddoodles @vore-toast @protectivepredmom @vixen525noms @voraciousvore

There are so many others that inspired me, too. The g/t community on Tumblr is awesome, and I can't wait to be a part of it. Send me a message if you want to chat.

That's all for now, thanks for reading. 🩷

[makothegayyburrito]

Like, “hey bud, you look a bit cold there”

(An old meme I made that’s been floating around in my archives)

[suzyandthefox]

ok but like

Vore in a protective , parent-like sense will always get me, it will always remain my favourite.

A pred giving a prey a comfort they lost, being their home temporarily.

The pred saying things like

"You're safe now"

"I will protect you"

"You're very brave, I'm proud of you"

For the pred to call their prey "little one" "small one", etc.

For the pred to hum a gentle lullaby to their scared prey

And for the prey to say things like

"Hide me"

"Protect me"

"I have no home/no body/nowhere to go"

The descriptions of a stomach as a cradle, the soft sobs a frightened prey lets out as they huddle into the soft flesh, they speak their fears and pain into the walls and the folds of the being around them.

And the walls listen to them.

To be cared for, to be loved, to be hidden where no one should see or harm you.

Idk man.

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Desperation vs. Domestication (Pt. 2)

Pairing: IDW Drift x Human Reader

WARNING: This story contains soft vore. If this makes you uncomfortable, please do not read this story.

Word Count: 4431

Summary: Though you have been lulled into a deep sense of security by Drift's kindness and comfort, you still haven't completely lost the need to be free. A terrible nightmare refuels your desire for escape...but Drift isn't someone who wants to let you go.

HEEHEEHEEHEE I REALLY WANTED TO WRITE A PART 2 OF THIS...so I did. It's because Drift is my all-time favorite Transformer and I absolutely LOVE putting my favorite characters through angst. If you enjoyed reading part 1, then I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Likes, comments, feedback, and reblogs are never expected, but always appreciated! Enjoy! :D

Here is the link to pt. 1 if you haven’t read it!

Also available to read on AO3!

  Two months later…

  You dream of Earth tonight.

  There are fields; you are standing in one. Long Bermuda grass tickles your ankles with the gentle presence of the planet recognizing its own. The endless green is splattered with occasional droplets of color: pink poppies, yellow sunflowers, marigolds, dandelions. It is warm. There is a slight wind blowing, playing with your hair. You turn your face towards the sunlight and bask in the relief of knowing you are home.

  All of a sudden, you hear a sound. Thumping. Steady, rhythmic. Loud. You feel the wind die down and suddenly the sun is gone, and there is only darkness. A massive shadow blots out all of the light. You see a figure looming over you, red-and-white with bright blue eyes that stare into your soul and make you feel terror.

  You try to run, but find you cannot move your legs. There is nothing you can do when you watch a giant hand reach down in slow motion and pluck you up, holding you between titanic fingers. The monster’s mouth opens, and then you are tumbling down, right into an abyss of metal and isolation. The Earth melts away forever. You are trapped. You are alone.

  Shooting forward out of your nightmare, you hear yourself scream. The squishy floor underneath you makes you lose your footing when you scramble upward in a blind panic and fall into Drift’s stomach wall. Everything moves, the organ grumbling unhappily at you being awake. Your hands scramble at the mesh cables. Little pink bubbles of cybernetic blood pop anxiously beneath their semi-transparent surfaces. The walls close in to squeeze, holding you in a secure hug, attempting to keep you still. But you cannot think. You are scared, and you feel trapped, so you desperately begin to thrash and fight against the stomach.

  Drift’s voice booms above you, panicked. “Little one? Little one?!”

  “Let me go!” you shriek. “Please, letmegoletmegoletmego!”

  The walls loosen up, freeing you. You collapse into the fetal position, gasping while sweat beads your brow and your heart goes crazy.

  Drift presses his hands over his middle. “Little one, little one, shhhh, shh, shh, shh,” he hushes frantically. “Safe, safe…safe, all is safe...no need for fear…”

  Gradually, you calm down. Only when you are no longer trembling does Drift tentatively begin to squeeze you again. In and out, slow kneading, like he’s silently coaxing you to continue breathing at a healthier pace. “Little one…okay?” he asks.

  Your voice quivers. “I-I’m fine. I’m okay. It-It was a bad dream. A nightmare.” You sit upright and lean into the stomach wall. Drift holds you close, the undulating muscle relaxing you with its constant massage. His biolights pulse and flicker, a clear sign of his stress. You woke him up with your screams. It makes you feel bad, so you snuggle his cables further. The robot’s stomach is not a big place, but Drift likes to be conscious of you. The support you provide him in completing this task is obviously appreciated, because he hums softly and pats his hand over where you are.

  There is peace again. Peace and warmth. But you don’t feel the usual safety. There is a lingering pit of dread growing deep within your gut, foul roots clawing their way through your body, leaving you jittery, uneased. Your nightmare is the first one in months, and it’s a sure sign things are not right.

  It has been such a long time since you thought of your possible escape plan. You don’t know how long, but you do know that you can’t be comfortable here anymore. Your mind is sending the signals loud and clear.

  No more stalling, you think to yourself. No more being complacent.

  You are not domesticated yet.

  When Drift lets you out of here…you will go through with the plan to take an escape pod home. For real this time.

  It takes you weeks to perfect your plan. And when you do finally have it all figured out, you come to the conclusion that things may end up being more complicated than you thought. Escaping a spaceship filled with giant alien robots is hard enough, yes. But then there’s the issue of what will happen when you return to Earth. You don’t know how long you’ve been abducted. It could be months. It could be years. What if all of your family and friends are long gone by the time you get home? What if things are so different that you’ve been completely left behind?

  No. You can’t think like that. A sharp patting to your cheeks snaps you out of it. Keep it together. This is the moment you have been waiting for. Regardless of what awaits you on Earth, you will be there to face it.

  You’ve packed everything you own into a small fabric knapsack your mech gifted you during your first days here (Who knew robots are such good knitters?). It’s not much, not much at all: snacks Drift gives you, strange pellets that clean your teeth, three cans of filtered water…but that’s all you really require for the trip you are going to embark on. You don’t believe it will be particularly long. The escape pods need to have some sort of device that allows them to leap through lightyears to their destinations. You believe this because you’ve watched the mothership do it from the observation windows Drift likes to bring you to sometimes. Hyperspace will occasionally be activated, with stars and planets blurring together into dazzling white paint streaks before coming to an abrupt halt in a totally new galaxy.

  Now, do you know how lightjumping works? Absolutely not. Last time you were on Earth, no such human technology had been invented yet. So you don’t exactly know how you’ll get the escape pod to lightjump like the ship does. But you’ll find a way. You have no choice.

  Now for the hard part: getting away from Drift long enough to activate the escape pod and blast away. He’s not going to make it easy for you. Drift doesn’t like letting you out of his sight if you aren’t in his room, and hardly lets you roam free. You’ve spent hours, both within his stomach and out, pondering how to go about this. It’s left you with the agonizing decision that you’ll just have to wing it somehow.

  The door to his room slides open. You’ve been sitting on his berth with your hands beneath your head and one leg crossed over the other, thinking, thinking, thinking, that at first you nearly didn’t hear him come in. You sit up to greet him with more eagerness than you’d like to show. The nightmare didn’t stop your affection for Drift from rearing its persistent head.

  There’s no waiting for him to give you his time today. When he enters the room, his focus is immediately on you with no prior distractions. Drift walks with a spring in his step, his finials perking up like an enthusiastic dog. You notice a small white box he holds in one hand, and think nothing of it. Drift’s room is decorated with countless knickknacks from other planets. It wouldn’t be the first time he’s brought some strange little souvenir home.

  “Hey, big guy,” you murmur happily when he kneels down before you. He settles the box to the side and cups both hands behind you, humming his typical car engine-purr greeting. You hug him when he draws you forth so he can nuzzle his nose into your middle. “I’m guessing you missed me?”

  Drift beep-boops excitedly. He gives you an affectionate tickle to your side, causing you to giggle. Your reaction delights him. He keeps it up, and pretty soon you are laughing so hard your stomach hurts. “D-Drift, s-stop! I-I can’t breathe!”

  He gives you one last light prod, then ends the bout of torture with more cuddles. You recover from the laughter, feeling airy and light like nothing else matters except for the giant robot holding you.

  “Little one,” he coos. “My little one.”

  “Mhm,” you mumble goodnaturedly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m yours.”

  He suddenly looks like he’s remembered something very important, and he straightens, chirping rapidly. You watch as he grabs the white box and, to your surprise, presents it to you. You glance at it, then turn to him. “For me?” you ask, pointing at yourself.

  He chirps again and nods.

  You take it from him and open it with a slight air of confusion, because he’s never given you something like this before. You think it might be a piece of jewelry, or some sort of charm. But what you see inside is neither of those things. You suck in a sharp breath of pure disbelief and go numb.

  It’s a collar. A damn collar. Sleek and narrow, its solid red with a single white stripe circumnavigating it. On one side is a strange symbol of a boxy red robot’s face-the same symbol he has on his chest. These are his colors, you realize. He’s making us match. He wants the other mechs to know that he owns you.

  Drift rumbles expectantly. When you remain frozen, unable to pry your eyes away from the collar, he gently pries it out of your now slightly shaking hands. With extreme carefulness, he clasps it around your neck. It fits comfortably and locks with a quiet click.

  “My little one,” he repeats. “Mine.”

  He’s not trying to scare you. You know he isn’t. Yet your throat is dry, and the snug weight of the collar makes you feel sick.

  You need to get the hell off of this ship.

  You spend the night feverishly trying to break the collar off, working yourself up like a caged animal driven mad by captivity. But no matter how hard you yank at it, it remains stubbornly fast around your neck. You refuse to eat the food given to you and cry yourself to sleep within a very concerned Drift’s belly, who can’t seem to console you no matter how hard he tries.

  Drift doesn’t know what to do with you.

  You’ve been moping ever since he gave you the collar. Over the next few days, any sort of drive to escape has left you. You're depressed and disappointed in him for what he’s done. You don’t want to talk to him. You don’t want to accept any of his gifts. Blanket after pillow after plushie-all made by him, with the crude markings of homemade love-are ignored. You shy away from his touch and reject his attention. When he swallows you at night, you give him no inclination you care. You sit like a stone within him and just…stare off vacantly, unable to ignore the collar around your neck.

  He’s brought you to the ship’s doctor multiple times. On the first trip, the old red medic bot looked you over and finished his checkup with a shrug and dismissive chuff. The second time, he growled at Drift and waved him away. And on the third time, he didn’t even let him through the door. There’s nothing physically wrong with you. But mentally, how could they know? How could he know he’s hurt you? You trusted him to treat you with some level of respect despite your situation, and he had, until now. The collar was your breaking point. There truly is no way for him to ever see you as anything more than a pet, and it hurts you, because by god, you love him.

  “…Little one?”

  Drift calls out to you with a soft, sad tone. You huddle up tighter beneath one of your blankets and give no answer.

  You hear him shift at his desk. There’s silence between the two of you that is not wanted. He heaves a low sigh and tries again. “Little one…please?”

  Damn your heart, you can’t keep giving him the silent treatment when he sounds like he’s about to cry.

  You push the blanket off of your head. Drift slouches in his chair, back bent like an old man’s. His finials are drooping, and the glow from his biolights is dimmer than usual. He’s obviously been letting his personal hygiene go for the sake of finding a way to help you, and it hurts to know he’s in this state because of your shitty attitude towards what he simply sees as a gift. The collar is a curse, but you can’t exactly tell him that, can you? This entire situation is all your fault.

  It's the treacherous part of your mind which attempts to convince you of this. It partially works. Giving in, you sit up slowly, drawing the blanket tightly around your shoulders and tilting your head while giving him a questioning look.

  He’s surprised by your action, like he genuinely wasn’t expecting you to respond to this extent. But he takes advantage of it. Drift offers you a hopeful smile and picks something up from his desk. He stands and walks to you, going slow. You don’t flinch when he crouches down to your level. The warm light of his eyes leaves a kind feeling on your skin.

  Tentatively, Drift extends his hand. In his palm is a piece of chocolate, one of the many treats he has at his disposal to provide you with when he feels you are being especially good. It’s an olive branch. A reach in the right direction.

  You hesitate…and then you think, Oh, what the hell. Staying mad at Drift when he has no clue he’s done something wrong in the first place won’t get you anywhere. So you accept the candy and take a small bite.

  He sags with relief, exhaust whooshing from his nose as he watches you eat. When you're finished, he moves his hand closer, twining the palm around you and resting the tips of his digits against your head and sides. You hold his index finger, resting your forehead against it and closing your eyes as a sign of trust. But you feel guilty.

  “I’m sorry,” you whisper, knowing he won’t understand. But you say it anyway. “I love you. I love you so, so much. But you're destroying me. I can’t stay here anymore.”

  A tear slips down your cheek. You don’t notice it until Drift gently brushes it away.

  “I have to go.” Your voice breaks. “I need to leave. I hope you’ll learn why. And I hope you won’t hate me for it. I-I don’t think I could handle it if you did. Please don’t hate me. Please don’t think I hated you.”

  Drift coos. His reply is indecipherable. You think he’s trying to comfort you…but you’ll never know for sure.

  He doesn’t swallow you tonight. You don’t know why; maybe he thinks you need a break. Maybe he just wants to hold you in a different fashion this time. You stay awake hours after he falls asleep, your little form nestled in the crook of his neck while he snoozes on his stomach with his arms crossed beneath his massive pillow. You peer off into the darkness, listening to his quiet breaths.

  For the longest time, you’ve thought of this room as yours and his. A space the two of you share together. Ours. It's fed into your delusional ideations of a future in which the two of you learn each other’s languages, where you stand on equal ground, you belonging to him and him belonging to you. A future where mechs and humans join hands and say “I see you. I know you. I understand you and you understand me. Neither of us is higher than the other.”

  But it will never happen. The collar around your neck is physical proof. There is no future between the two of you anymore. If you want to be you again…you need to let Drift go.

  You shuffle away from the bot’s neck and stand. The only parts of him that are lit up right now are the red symbol on his chest and the soft blue of his mouth. He’s so peaceful. This giant alien, who you know has fought in many battles from the scars you can see, is soothed by your presence. You, an insignificant little human being. The dynamic is honestly quite hilarious. You're like his very own version of a chihuahua.

 You want to hug his nose, knowing you will never have another chance again. But Drift is a light sleeper, and you're testing the waters enough already. You can’t risk it. It pains you, but you drop your arms and turn away.

  Using the metal ladder he made for you so you’d have easy access to his berth, you climb down and grab your knapsack. Quietly padding across the long expanse of the room, you make it to the door. It senses your presence and slides open. You force yourself not to look back when you walk out.

   You wonder if he will cry for you when he wakes up and finds you gone.

  The spaceship is ominous at night. The only thing you can hear as you traverse the hallways is your heartbeat pulsing in your ears. You're trying to be quiet; passing by multiple rooms with slumbering bots inside has you holding your breath and then letting it out in a forcefully slow, reedy wheeze. You are, after all, a mouse in a prison filled with cats; slow and steady and silent wins the race.

  You survey the elevator when you get to it, at a loss of how you’ll possibly find a way to operate it due to how small you are. A miracle finds its way to you, however, in the form of a mech. This one you don’t recognize. He has a similar color scheme to Drift, but is noticeably bulkier, with a strange cannon sitting on his right shoulder and a blue eyepiece over the adjacent optic. All of his focus is on the datapad in his hands as he summons the elevator. You wait for the doors to open and for him to step inside before darting after him. Luckily he doesn’t look up once on the short journey. Your cover remains unblown when the doors part again and he heads off. You go in the opposite direction, because like hell are you going to follow the strange robot to someplace where there are probably more strange robots.

  You slip in and out of sight, staying far away from any mechs who are awake. They do not see you, which means you are doing this right-though there are some alarming instances where you think you’ll be caught. One such occurrence happens when a tall, thin blue mech with a chest like the front of a helicopter nearly sees you duck into an open storage room for quick cover. Its single orb ominously scans the darkened room. You watch from beneath a large shelving unit, terrified out of your mind. You don’t move, nor do you make a sound, keeping a shaking hand over your mouth.

  Finally, after what feels like hours, the mech stomps away. You let your head fall forward respitefully.

  You know you're nearing your one-way ticket to Earth when you see bright yellow signs plastered on the walls with loud black alien words telling you to hurry left with the help of large arrows. Escape pod symbols, accompanied by a funny little robot mascot, are the giveaway. You feel a sort of giddy euphoria swell up within you. You're almost there. You're going to escape. You're going to go home. It all seems far too good to be true; sure, you’ve imagined this scenario happening over and over again, but you never really did believe it would happen.

  You pinch your arm multiple times just to make sure you aren’t dreaming. This is not in your head. This is happening. You really are going back to Earth.

  Your collar suddenly vibrates. And then it starts to screech.

  You nearly jump out of your own skin. The alarm is loud, piercing, and undeniably going to alert someone to your presence. You slam your fists against it multiple times, but it doesn’t let up. Your heart sinks when the realization of what's going on hits.

  Shit. He put a tracker in it.

  You need to run. You shove yourself forward into a full-on sprint, dashing down the last remainder of this hallway, then turning the corner and seeing the numerous escape pods all lined up in the wall. You choose the first one, grabbing the edge of the circular door and pulling with all of your might. The tendons in your neck strain as you grunt and slowly bring the door back with you. Clamoring in, you give it one last heave before it shuts on its own and seals you inside. You hear the lock click into place. The entire cabin flickers to life, with the lights on and the control panel booting up. As you expected, everything is far too big for you to reach. But it seems you won’t need to. A loud robotic voice emanates from the central console, speaking to you in the native mech language.

  Your collar is still going off. You don’t have a lot of time.

  “I-I can’t understand you!” you yell over the din. “I’m a human, from Earth! I speak English!”

  The voice pauses. Seconds later, to your amazement, it talks, and you can understand. “Language notifications made. Destination updated. Scanning…” A panel on the ceiling pops open, and a blue light filters out, washing over you. “Scanning complete. Species: Homo Sapien. Homeworld: Earth. Milky Way Galaxy. Status: Critically endangered. Suggesting immediate travel to Earth.”

  You clap your hands. “Yes! Yes, that’s it! Earth, set the destination to Earth!”

  “Destination set. Awaiting command to launch LOST LIGHT LIFEPOD 01.”

  You are about to give the order when something slams against the door. You whirl around, your heart stuttering when you see who’s there. It’s Drift. He’s made it. And he looks horrified. With trembling fingers, he yanks on the handle. When the pod remains fastly shut, he pounds on the circular window with so much force the entire thing shudders and you think he’s going to rip it right off of its hinges. “Little one!” he screams, voice muffled beyond the barrier of glass. “Little one! Open…!” The rest of the sentence comes out as sharp metal shrieks.

  You stand there helplessly. The pod once again inquires for your command, yet you can’t find it within yourself to speak.

  Drift is doing everything he can to get to you. He’s like a rabid beast, clawing at the window, teeth bared in visible frustration. His biolights are going mad when he roars and sends his whole body into the door. This time, it does give a little. You can see some dents in the gray metal.

  This…is a side of Drift you have never seen. It is desperate, vicious. And it terrifies you. You stumble back to the opposite end of the pod and curl up, hugging your knapsack to your chest like a child squeezing their favorite stuffed animal. Drift continues his futile attack on the door, but pauses when he makes eye contact with you. His face falls. His fists relax and slide downward to press palm against the glass.

  He’s quiet as he seems to reflect on how he just presented himself front of you, then whispers heartbrokenly. “...Sorry.” Tears stream down his cheeks. His hot vexation melts away and exposes his remorseful center. “Sorry. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Little one. Y/N.”

  Oh my god.

  All noise ceases when you register what he just said. Your name. He said your name. He’s never done that before. You didn’t think he knew your name.

  He learned to say it. For you.

  Drift whimpers like a kicked dog, moving to crouch lower. “Y/N. Y/N, please. Stay. Stay with me. Please don’t go. I love you.”

  You’ve changed his life. You don’t need to be told this. You know you’ve brought him a sense of joy he hasn’t felt in years. You didn’t come here of your own free will. But you freely chose to love him. You gave yourself up and became his everything while he became yours. Isn’t he your home? Isn’t he the one who saved you? Can you really leave someone who cares about you so much?

  Your legs move on their own accord. Your heart beats with his and you take tentative steps towards the door. Drift twitters and gives you an encouraging nod, gesturing for you to keep walking.

  Why do you want to leave him so badly? Why would you want to throw away this perfect life?

  Your little human hands come to rest right over his massive robotic ones. You two are separated, but you think you can feel the warmth coming from him. Drift bonks his forehead against the window anticipatingly. “Come on,” he whispers. “Come on. It’s…okay. You're okay. Please.”

  Your hands are human. You will never see another pair again if you return to him.

  Your life is not supposed to be perfect. A human’s life is messy, and disastrous, and chaotic, and beautiful. His life is too, but not in the same way as yours.

  “Goodbye, Drift,” you murmur, voice breaking. “LOST LIGHT LIFEPOD 01…take me to Earth.”

  The escape pods hums and rumbles. “Command accepted,” it announces. “Preparing ejection in three…two…one.”

  The last thing you see and hear before the pod lurches forward and rockets out of its dock is Drift’s agonized expression and his wrenching wail.

  Your vessel speeds away. You get a fantastic view of the ship in all of its stunning glory. It felt so gigantic when you were inside, but from out here, you can fully comprehend its overwhelming proportions. You watch it rapidly shrink as you gain distance from it, until it's just another speck of light in the universe. And when you can’t even see that anymore, you allow yourself to collapse against the floor eagles-spread. You gaze up at the ceiling, feeling surprisingly hollow. There is no victorious sense of triumph, no excitement to return home. You don’t even know where home is anymore. Somehow, after everything you’ve gone through, you’ve come out even more lost than you already were.

  The waterworks start shortly after the escape pod jumps into hyperspace. Heaving sobs, messy tears, you lie there and weep to the stars, not noticing when your collar finally stops beeping.

[morsels-and-monstrosities]

"You poor thing..you're freezing." The predator slowly bent down, the leaves in the trees rustling as they shifted. They were the biggest giant you'd ever seen..their features shadowed by their hood. The moonlight behind them illuminated their outline and you could see a faint glow of purple from somewhere in the void that was their face. A ginormous clawed hand suddenly pressed against your back, jolting you from your terrified daze.

"Humans like you shouldn't be out here this late..you're far too fragile. If any other giant had found you, you'd be dead by now. Luckily I found you." There was an air of smugness in their tone as they wrapped their fingers around your torso, lifting you to their face. You could see them a bit better now that you were closer. They were pale, face covered in scars, and eyes glowing a gentle purple color. "Don't worry, I'll help you out of the woods." Their voice was quiet, but still confident. You could see a glimpse of sharp white teeth from behind their lips as they spoke, teeth easily big enough to cut you in half with one swift bite.

They gently tucked you against their chest, a claw rubbing against your back in an almost comforting way as they began to walk. "Humans like you aren't built to survive the snow like this..how did you get lost out here?" They looked down at you. Your mouth felt dry, you wanted to speak but no words could come out. You heard a quiet unintelligible grumble from the giant. "Can you speak? I need you to tell me where you live.." They shifted you so that you were pressed a bit lower towards their stomach. A loud growl thundered from the predator's core, making you sweat.

"Ah..sorry, small one. I didn't eat today." They said quietly, stopping their walk to look down at you. "I really do need to know how to get you back, I doubt you'd want to spend the night in my cave." They reasoned. You opened your mouth but you found yourself still unable. This was the scariest situation you'd ever been in, your brain completely blank as you tried to scramble for something to say. They didn't seem annoyed..but they didn't seem too pleased with your silence either. You'd hardly noticed that your trembling was worsening, but they sure did.

"Are you really still that cold? Poor thing..it's been so long since I've handled humans, I forgot how weak your bodies are to nature. I can't have you freezing! That wouldn't be very fun, now would it?" They shook their head and lifted you once again up to their face. "I have a way to keep you warm until you can tell me where you live, but I doubt you'd like it much." They gently brushed the hair from your face with a claw. You felt a pit form deep in your stomach..what did they mean? You figured that whatever it was couldn't be worse than being out like this.

"I'll be gentle, I promise. Just try not to struggle too much.." You felt a claw gently prod at your shoes. You looked down just in time to see them fall off and onto the forest floor below. The giant didn't seem to care, and you'd been so distracted staring at the ground you didn't realize you were now directly in front of their mouth. The moment you looked back up, you were greated with a flourish of warm air, their mouth opening up wide. It was dark..you could only see their first few teeth and a faint purple glow from down their throat. Your shaking worsened but they didn't hesitate, setting your shivering form down onto their tongue. You immediately tried to turn and jump from their mouth bit their teeth snapped shut with a near-deafening click.

You were pressed against the roof of their mouth without a moments hesitation, their tongue soaking you in saliva. Their mouth was overwhelmingly warm, a complete contrast to the world outside. They kept you pinned, gently licking you a few times, before allowing you to gather yourself, laying flat against their tongue. You felt something metallic against your leg, turning to try and see what it was. Your eyes had somewhat adjusted, and with the help of the glowing from their throat, you saw that it was a tongue piercing. You hadn't seen that before in your sheer panic.

The world around you began to shift and pull you backwards, causing you to panic. They were tilting their head back, you could only assume they were going to swallow you. You quickly twisted your body as fast as you could, tiny hands reaching to grab onto the ball of the piercing. You missed by just a hair, slipping backwards and closer to their throat. In just one gulp, you were completely swallowed, sliding down their throat on your way to what you assumed to be your final destination. Their throat squeezed around you- you could hear a powerful thud from deep inside of them. You assumed it was their heart beating, drowning out the sound of your own thumping in your ears.

You slid into their stomach, rather shocked to find the source of the glowing had been from here. It was the same color as their eyes, but a bit more dim. There was no liquid filling the space around you, and you breathed a sigh of relief knowing you weren't about to be digested. They began to walk once again, their stomach gently swaying with their pace. "Sorry about not warning you beforehand, your kind are so skittish, I knew you wouldn't have agreed if I gave you a heads up." Their voice was a bit muffled, but you could still hear them clearly enough.

You began to move, shifting so that you were leaning up against the stomach lining. Well..it was definitely a change compared to the cold outside. It was almost comforting, knowing that you were this safe, even if that safety was coming from a total stranger. "You tasted pleasant enough..the fear made you a bit bitter, but I'm not complaining." They told you, making you almost roll your eyes. They'd just scared the life out of you and they were complimenting you on your taste now? They were right though- they definitely weren't the worst giant that could've found you.

The more you sat there the more tired you found yourself. The gentle swaying combined with the warmth and the way you practically sunk into their stomach was too good to resist. You allowed yourself to close your eyes..you weren't going to sleep, no, you just needed to allow yourself to rest. That was the last thought you had before drifting off into the deepest sleep you'd had in awhile, surrounded by the warmth of the stranger.

[nombitenary]

Obsessed with a pred overindulging a little, especially with G/t vore. A full and squirming belly packed full with tinies, every single movement any one of them makes something the pred call feel against the strained walls of their stomach. Tiny ripples of movements flutter under their skin, and they rub their belly, causing all the prey within to cry out in a myriad of different muffled voices as they're all shuffled around in the tight space. They barely even move, too firmly wedged against the strained folds of the belly and each other to be jostled.

Bonus if the pred tries to get just one last tiny down and has to really struggle to cram them in there, swallowing repeatedly as they feel an uncomfortable pressure at the top of their stomach. Their fingers worriedly rub their middle, tracing around the squirming lumps tucked beneath their skin and kneading in an attempt to coax their prey further along into their intestines...

All the jostling does is cause them to hiccup, and although it's not a lot... with the pocket of air gone, the stomach is allowed a little more space to relax, only for the pred to gulp one last time and seal their last mouthful in their churning gut.

A pred could also pair this sort of meal with a drink- perhaps a hot tea to try getting their prey to digest faster to create more room. All the prey can do is thrash and wriggle with more vigour at the sound of the pred eagerly and repeatedly gulping above them, a steady stream of hot liquid spilling into the belly and causing those stuck against the bottom of the stomach's lining to frantically try clawing their way up. Maybe the tea doesn't help digestion, but the pred wouldn't know thanks to the fact that how much it makes their prey struggle certainly does.

They can't even fight back properly. Too bogged down by the hot drink causing the already sweltering temperature to rise further as liquid soaks through their clothing, weighing them down. The stomach around them is eagerly churning, one rippling wall firmly settled against them thanks to the pred rubbing them and cooing about how good of a meal they all made...

And of course, if they make it whole and alive into the intestines... the pred walking their fingers along the curve of their lower belly to single out each individual squirming lump. Just to remind them of their place, trapped in gurgling darkness, squeezed by muscles set on pulling them deeper... deeper...

A sudden pressure above them causes a new bout of squirming, though they're all shocked when they feel wriggling from above the fleshy 'ceiling' of the pred's intestines.

The pred's already indulging again. They plan on filling each inch of their gut with squirming tinies, and with the lovely wriggles of their meal settling in with longer gurgles and glorps... well, it just makes them hungry.

Luckily for them, tinies are easy enough to come by, and more than easy enough to swallow.

[teal-fiend]

borrower vore Part 1

part 2

[justme315]

Caught 1/3

!Warning!

Fear, angst, pain, cursing, mention of drugs, g/t, graphic story of a crazy giant, mention of fatal vore, a mention of someone being suicidal, ¿gigantophobia?, trauma, bad response dough to fear

Next part:

------------------------

The world was not normal anymore. Everything started 15 years ago afer a yet another global pandemic. Some have passed away, some barely had any changes due to the illness but 1/14 of the population between 1 and 21 became really infected.

You see, it was not a typical disease. Sure, for some it was like a cold but those unfortunate young people who had the right genetic basis for the mutation of the disease were practically cursed. The mutation caused those sick people - depending on a person - either to shrink up to 3-4 inches or grow up to even 60 feet tall.

It took the doctors a few months to find medication to help control the sudden changes of size, but the illness was proven to be incurable. Medication could only help control the size changes slightly better but couldn't fully stop it.

Present time

In this crazy world there was only one thing that wasn't crazy.

"Hunter!" Nate yelled while chasing his best friend. The young boys were friends since they were 8 so now it was a decade of friendship. Their relationship was the only normal thing in the world: no lies, no envy just pure platonic love and..

"Give me back my phone, you psycho!"

Pranks.

"I'm gonna text her" Hunter laughed after unlocking his best friends phone "I'm finally gonna tell Evie that you have a crush on her!"

In a world full of the so called 'size shifters' (they could just call them weriedos in Nates opinion), so basically giants and tinies, having a friend like Hunter was a blessing. Well, at last Nate though that. Hunter didn't have too many friends becouse he wasn't very out going and could come off as cold sometimes but he was surely the sweetest, gentleman ever. Nate on the other hand was the most troublesome kid all middle and high school. He would always ruin something, say something rude to a teacher, skip classes, fail exams..

At last Hunter cared about him. And Nate cared about Hunter as well.

You could practically call them brothers at that point. 10 years of friendship? That sounds like 'forever' is ahead of them. Well.. it was.

This unfortunate day Nate has gotten a 'brilliant' idea: surprise (and scare) Hunter by coming out of his closet (no double meanings) as he returns home from soccer practice.

Everything was going well. Hunters mom bought the lie that Nate was supposed to wait for Hunter in his room and she left the house. Nate didn't have too much time before he heard Hunter opening the front door. He quickly jumped into the closet and closed the door, leaving just a tiny gap, so he could see what was happening on the outside.

The closet was dark, full of clothes and other stuff all around. Those things were nothing special: t-shirts, pants, caps, headphones, medication.. Wait, hold on.

Medication?

"Why does he have pills in there?" Nate though, grabbing the bottle. His mind raced with thoughts. It was too dark for him to figure out what kind of medicine was in the bottle. It was weried. Hunter wasn't sick. Well, at last Nate didn't know anything about that. He didn't have allergies, he didn't have asthma, never even needed pain killers...

"What if those are like drugs?" Nates heart skipped a beat. It would explain why Hunter wouldn't tell him. Maybe he was ashamed that he was an addict?

No, drugs didn't make any sense. Hunter wouldn't have done that. That's something pretty much impossible to happen.

"Maybe he is sick and doesn't wanna tell me because it's terminal"

Now Nate felt like he was going to puke. What if this was something serious? What if Hunter would-?

Just as he was about to create next 2000 scenarios, Hunter entered the room.

"Crap" Nate gasped "I forgot about the prank!"

He wasn't in the mood for pranks anymore. He was supposed to scare Hunter but..

As Hunter sat on his bed, he called Nate out.

"I can see you, dumbass, you know?"

Nate signed and then slowly opened the closets door and stepped out. His best friend didn't seem very surprised.

"You idio-" The boy began to speak, but stoped mid sentence as he saw what was in his friends hands. He got pale. He became completely paralyzed. He was..

Scared?

Nate didn't understand his expression. Surely, he couldn't have scared him. Hunter saw him. He wasn't as sly as normally. So why would he react this way?

He then looked carefully at his best friends expression. Hunters eyes flickered between Nates face and.. the bottle in his hand.

How could he have forgotten about that?

He looked down into his hand. Finally the light hit the white bottle with few simple blue words written on it.

Remedium Gigantismus.

"Heck of a weried name for a pill" Nate thought before he saw the smaller, English words.

A pill to help control morphing into a giant.

His eyes widden and he gasped.

Gigantismus. That means..

"A giant.." he mumbled under his breath. How was it possible he didn't realize earlier? He looked back at Hunter with wide, confused eyes.

Hunter stared at him looking almost terrified.

"Nate.." Hunters voice was a little shaky and he acted with a lot of caution "Let me-"

"Why the hell do you have those pills?" Nate spoke defensively. It felt surreal. Hunter never behaved like that. He never kept secrets. He most surely wouldn't be a fucking monster.

"Bro, I'm sorry, I should have told you sooner" the other boys brown eyes flickered with shame. He took a step into Nates direction but the shorter, blue-eyed one took a step back. Hunter was visibly shocked and hurt by that.

"What..? What the hell do you mean?" Nate still couldn't get that thought into his head. There had to be a different explanation. Hunter was not a freaking beast. He wasn't a man-eater. He wasn't one of those crazy giants that morph into their true size in the middle of a city to crush buildings, murder people and traumatize thoese who remain alive. Hunter wasn't like the one that did that to Nate.

"Nate, I really wanted to tell you. But after the accident in the gallery..." Right.

It all happened 4 years ago. Nate was in an art gallery with his so called girlfriend. She was his first crush. It was a great experience untill.. Unexpectedly one boy, barely older than them morphed into a giant. He crushed the building completely, walls fell down, floors broke into parts, the rooftop fell on top of many people, crushing them. The beast - the giant looked down at all those humans. He had an evil grin and the demonic stare that Nate still had nightmares of. The giant grabbed people like they were toys, bugs, pests even. He didn't hesitate to murder and eat all humans that he could reach. Hell, he even ate the girl that went out with Nate. Nate would forever remember those giant hands, the beasts stare, the blood flowing down his mouth and hands. Nate only survived because he was under a pile of fallen materials and wasn't visible to the monster. Even though he didn't die, he could still hear the delight in the beasts voice as he enjoyed the consumption of people, which made Nate feel dead inside. After the "accident", as everyone else refered to it, he became suicidal, had nightmares about giants almost every night but most importantly began to hate giants with all his heart. Hell, not only giants. All of those freaking weriedos that change their sizes. His therapist couldn't help him. Noone really could. The accident ruined him mentally and that could not be repaired. But Hunter was by his side after that terrifying, traumatizing experience. He was the only one who understood how much Nate hated thoese freaking monsterous giants and was the only one accepting the fact without telling him that "one situation doesn't define the whole species" or other shit people told him. They were murderers. Giants were murderers. Nothing more.

But now.. even Hunter wasn't on his side.

"Tell me it's not what I think it is" Nate almost begged at this point. He was so angry, so confused and so unbelievably terrified "Tell me you're not a monster!!"

Hunters eyes became glossy, his voice was shaky, he didn't want to lose his best friend "Nate, please.. I got infected 6 years ago. I didn't tell anyone but my parents and doctors. I wanted to.. I wanted to tell you but my parents told me it was a bad idea. And later the accident happened.. I didn't want you to hate me. I didn't want you to fear me" he tried to explain as he was slowly breaking down.

Nate felt his heart beat faster, his breath quickened, his hands trembled as he held the bottle firmly, his mind was filled with thoughts, he couldn't control the growing rage.

"Are you a fucking giant?!" Nate yelled at Hunter, visibly furious and panicked, somehow at the same time. He felt like he was going to puke. His head hurt. And his heart? It stung so freaking bad that he thought he was going to have a heart attack.

Hunter stood there, quiet for a secound before nodding. He looked ashamed. Hurt even. He knew he shouldn't have kept this a secret but let's be honest, if he told Nate would they continue being friends? Obviously no. Hunter just didn't want to lose him. He couldn't even bare the thought..

They both kept quiet for a few seconds, the first thing to break the silence was the sound of the bottle falling down onto the floor.

"How could you..?" The blue-eyed began to speak.

"Nate, please, it doesn't have to change anything-" Hunter spoke even though he didn't believe those words himself. His heart was pounding like crazy. He took two more steps into his best friends direction.

"Get away from me you monster!!" Nate snapped as he took a few steps back, visibly frighten by Hunter.

They have been friends for a freaking decade and now Nate was terrified of him.

Hunter broke down. Tears began to fall down his cheeks. He wasn't a monster.

"Please don't call me that" he whispered as he began to sob and cry louder. Just a secound later he ran off the room and out of the house leaving Nate all alone.

The boy collapsed onto the floor, sitting there stunned, shocked and scared. He couldn't understand the situation. It was unbelievable. How didn't he notice? Was Hunter faking their friendship? Would Hunter hurt him?

No, of course not. That was Hunter. His Hunter.

Nate stood back up and took a deep breath. He tried to regain his composure. His body was reacting before his mind was. He knew, deep down, that even if Hunter was a giant, he would never ever hurt him, but the trauma made him react on instinct, without thinking straight. As soon as Hunter was out of sight it was easy for Nate to feel calmer and regain his thoughts.

"How could I have been so cruel to call him a monster? I fucking made him cry" he thought as he stood up. When the fear began to fade away he realized what he had done. His behavior was unforgivable. Hunter was right about not telling him - Nate didn't take that information well. Hunter had every right to keep this to himself for the sake of their friendship.

"I have to fix this" Nate though as he realised he wouldn't loose his best friend like that. Not becouse he called him names. Not becouse of a sickness. Maybe the could find a way to make it work? He would sure as hell try, becouse Hunter was the most important person in his life.

Being truthful Nate doubted that they could still be best buddies. He wouldn't- couldn't be friends with a giant. But he also couldn't think about it now. It wasn't just a giant, it was Hunter. He needed to find him and apologize to him.

He ran after him, trying to find a direction he suspected the boy would choose. He knew his favorite forest spots and that's exactly where he went.

After almost 40 minutes of looking for Hunter, Nate has found him. He was sitting on a tree branch, sobbing. Nate approached him, fear growing back in his body as well as tention, but he wouldn't give up so easily.

"Hey man.." Nate began to speak. The sudden sound must have startled Hunter because he fell down as he turned around to see who was speaking.

Before he could say anything the earth began to shake and he began to grow.

Nate soon remember what he had learned in health class - strong feelings might cause a size-shifter to morph uncontrollably.

Nate looked up with wide eyes as his best friend was transformed into a 60ish foot tall giant beast.

"N-Nate..?" Hunter mumbled uncertainty as he realised he had grown, looking at his now tiny best friend.

Nope.

Nate turned around and began to run as fast as he could. He wouldn't be cought by a giant.

"Wait, Nate, please!!"

-----------------------

Thank you for reading, sorry it took me so long to update, hope you enjoy a new story! 💙💙

[waxingwinchester]

giant!sam wichester who’s already unusually tall for his species, but he’s the personification of big and scary-looking on the outside and secretly just nervous and nice. and tiny!reader who’s one of the smaller ones of their species, making the divide between them even bigger

[imfelinefinee]

Conceal and Hunt

Pairing: Seb.as.tian sol.ace x reader (Platonic / Romantic)

Summary: Hide & Seek

NSFW DNI

Notes: Saw a fish man, moral of the story. I like fish man, I'm gonna give him fish fingers for dinner.

Warnings: Soft vore / Nonsexual vore ( If that wasn't obvious), predator/prey behaviour, fearplay ig? Horror elements (it's a horror game), mild swearing, brief mention to trauma etc Remember to take careful of yourself and drink water! And sleep, that's important too. I kinda am posting it at 1am dont mind me-

Words: 4.7k+

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Hastening the shivering drenched legs threatened to topple and plummet down to the floor; The clunky oxygen mask clung to their neck loosely with rubbery straps, repeatedly colliding with the skin of their neck and mouth. Small bruises formed from the more prominent hits from the face cover. 

The comlink that held for dear life within the dwelling of their ear, a hand reaching upwards to tug it back into its place, feeling almost like an earphone that threatened to fall out after so much jogging, a hindrance and distraction.

Attempting to regulate their breathing despite their racing heart, skipping a beat every so often amidst their panic. Their throbbing lungs sent a pang of pain every time they exhaled, accelerating in an attempt to soothe their lungs. Only causing the pounding discomfort to worsen each time.

Desks aligned the walls, lonely without their occupying chair. Coated in a thin layer of dust from a vacancy of use. Calculators, stacks of papers, pens, cups from even the occasional plant. More importantly, though, was the currency down in the depths known as data.

Data was an important asset as it allowed for trading with the facilities merchant, otherwise known as Z-13. Trading the facility’s data in exchange for important supplies such as code breachers or med kits. All essential in the survival of the hell that was the place they roamed. 

Urbanshade Blacksite is the literal embodiment of purgatory in which “sinners” undergo harsh environments to endure and complete the mission of collecting the facility power supply, a powerful important crystal.

To a point where they were willing to redeem heinous criminals of their crimes if they were successful in their attempt to get the crystal. Not only that but the crystal held a bounty of a large sum of cash as well, meaning that they’d be rich by the end of it too.

Not all the convicted were criminals though, some took it as their only chance to escape from their guilty sentences. Only to fall to the same fate as all the others who came to Blacksite, besides one survivor in particular.

 It was a miracle they’d made it thus far.

The occasional locker that housed an abandoned lab coat made of the essential lifelines within the facility, was used as a covert hiding place from the monsters that lurked in the dark. The only sanctuary given to the people down in Blacksite. However, it wasn’t always the case as a creature occupied the lockers at times.

Tentacled beasts that camouflage themselves within the locker, threatening the only safety towards the expendables. Given the name, the void. If one hadn’t looked for their multiple piercing purple eyes that glowed under the light, they’d either be consumed by the creature if no one nearby came to the rescue.

The memo was simple. Trust no one. Trust only yourself.

Sprinting down the hall, only for it to appear longer than usual. The door seemingly moved further and further away into the distance as their hopes held low as they clung to desperation for their chances at survival. 

Everyone inevitably died in Blacksite, it was a miracle they’d make it thus far into their journey as they did. But, it likely wouldn’t last much longer. It wasn’t their fault they were convicted, it was an act of survival, as it always had been. 

Death almost embraced them at every second, something they were far too acquainted with in surface life and the depths of Blacksite. Tears clung to their tear ducts, pouring out like an overfilled glass of water.

The occasional sob escaped them, reminding them of so many dreaded horrible memories. They yearned to see their family, their friends, and their pets that awaited their return. To curl up in the safety of their home, within the blanketed sheets of warmth. Oh, how they missed it.

They wished they hadn’t taken advantage of it when they did, as it only served as a weight to their pain. Filled with regrets.

In spite, their disassociation halted. Leaving them confused as they bashed into the door. Quickly, they woke up to the reality of their situation. Realising that they’d reached their destination, flimsily pulled the lever with a sweaty palm. 

It took far too long for it to remember its function and open automatically, with shaky breath. They entered the next chamber, revealing another long corridor lined with nothing but a steep hill and windows. 

It seemed silent, too silent for it to be peaceful. With far too many encounters under their belt, they knew not to trust the atmosphere. It felt oddly reminiscent of a maze, with no end in sight as to where they were and how far they were from achieving their goal. 

The only comforting thing was the familiar hum of the ocean current outside the window, acting as a makeshift wind to the outside world. The only reminder of the world behind them with the sound of the occasional fish passing by, they would have spent their time there if it weren’t for the looming threat of death.

After taking a moment to compose themselves with a chug of bottled water, the irony of drinking water within the depths of the sea. Yet, essential to their continuous survival. It wasn’t every room they got to take a moment to themselves.

Listening for the sounds of growls, metal clanks or screams. It was all silent aside from the sporadic dripping sound of a leaking pipe or the sound of metal succumbing to the underwater pressure. 

Taking a step forward, tensely holding onto the rail that accompanied the stairway as a means of stability to their wobbly legs. Each footstep up the corridor sent them into exhaustion, their means of transport begging to rest and surrender. Yet, they refused and continued forward.

In the corner of their eye, they spotted movement. Their head snapped towards the window only to see something disappear into the darkness before they could fully spot what the lurking creature was. In case they were deluded, they checked behind them for a dweller. Only to find none.

Continuing onwards only to reach halfway through the steps with no issue. They refused to believe that it was merely their imagination, that they were hallucinating after going through so many of the same repetitive spaces of isolation. Looking back to the window with a grimace, eyeing the window with suspicion. 

Nothing.

Perhaps they were mistaken? Shaking it up to their imagination, though still bracing themselves in case of an encounter. Their thoughts went back to Sebastian, their “friend” down in the darkness. The two of them had a fair share of mutual exchange, both benefiting from one another.

The only friendly face that didn’t wish to kill them and they clung to that attachment for the sake of their sanity. Many times they had to hold back the urge to cry in front of the giant beast in favour of not hindering him with their pathetic cry of pleas. 

Small talk was the usual between them, hardly knowing more than necessary than the other. Yet after some time, they considered him a “close” friend. Perhaps even holding back some emotions and feelings towards him. 

After their initial brief encounters, the more they met up, the more familiarity grew between the two. Even a level of “fondness” from Sebastian as he always welcomed them warmly into his cramped shop, even being generous as to allow them to rest there when they needed it, desperately.

And right now, they needed it. 

Their stamina was at its limits, their body shivering from the lack of heat. Their body was unable to properly produce the warmth they needed after being drenched with water after having to go diving from the flooded areas they’d gone through previously. If they weren’t careful, they could succumb to hypothermia. Which wouldn’t be the most comforting way to die.

Endless, infinite. A relentless maze of torture, horrors beyond human comprehension. The only driving force going forward was the hope of familial warmth and the instinct for natural survival. 

It compelled them.

Turning their head towards the window instinctively, their vision blurred and dazed as they believed themselves to be falling asleep due to exhaustion. Their eyelids were heavy, although their panicked breaths remained the same.

As they made eye contact, an influx of pain shot up to their head like a pounding migraine. Quickly realising that they’d been compelled like a siren’s spell by the Eyefestation, its many green eyes staring into the depths of their body.

Fighting back against the urge to glance back, they forced themselves to peer away from the Eyefestation, little by little. The incoming headache increased its pressure, making them wince and groan in pain from the sudden weight on them.

Its glowing neon green eyes were like venom to their psyche, breaking down their already mentally weak barriers and taking advantage of that weakness. To make them succumb to it, as it somehow processed an ability of telepathy.

Gripping the handrail into a deathly grip, the only means of keeping them upright and balanced in the situation they found themselves. Biting back the urge to belittle themselves for letting down their guard, they pressed on.

Their free hand gripped the hairs atop their head harshly, taking out a few strands in the process, irritating their skull. Slowly, they made their way to the top and hurriedly jerked the handle on the door. Retreating into the safety of the next room. 

‘Please… Give me a break…’, they sighed as their head became dull and numb, a lingering headache from the encounter. Which was likely to interfere with their focus later on if they weren’t careful. How fortunate were they today?

Begrudgingly, pulling themselves from the wall they found themselves leaning up against. Fluttering their eyes open in an attempt to clear up the haze that clouded their vision, only to spot a dash of light upon them.

A bright red one.

“Shit…”. Picking up the sound of whirring machinery as it worked, hearing small clunks of metal. It became all too apparent to them that it was the sound of reloading bullets, right towards them. Their eyes shot to a stack of metal crates.

Ducking as a barrage of bullets was shot at them, sending a wave of shivers down their spine as they tucked into a roll, narrowly dodging the bullets with the skin of their teeth. Taking shelter behind the crates as the shots continued to fire.

The spot they’d previously stood at now lay with holes in the walls and floor, black marks of oxidation of the metal that housed them. If they hadn’t moved when they had, they likely would’ve been shot to death. Instantly.

Leaning back against the crates for cover, their hand reached for their beating heart in an attempt to calm down as the organ threatened to burst out from their chest. The turret halted its attack in favour of surveying the area in case they’d escaped, lurking around the area.

They held back the urge to cry in relief, which was far too close for comfort. They watched as the light went around in a linear pattern, left to right. A basic means of monitoring the area, leaving it vulnerable to blindspots and its activation panel across the room.  Which was their only way of getting out of their tight spot.

Yet, they couldn’t help but curl up against the crates. Hiding themselves from the sight of the AI that controlled the turrets, holding back the whimpers with a bite of their lip. Their fear catching up with them they held their shaking palm, holding it to their chest as everything slowly came back around.

They weren’t sure why they kept going on, why they kept fighting after everything they went through. A tear slipped past their defence after they held back the urge to break down and cry their lungs out, the stress of everything coming full circle. 

Barely holding themselves together, they couldn’t help but notice that it took just a little longer than usual for the turret to register that they were there and fire the bullets. Perhaps they surprised PAInter or didn’t notice until the last second, it was usually very fast to these things.

Sitting up into a crouch, they peeked out to look at the possible coverage from the turret. Only to notice a lack of defence. And knowing the turret, it would shoot at them the moment it noticed their movement.

But there was an opening if the turret looked in the opposite direction. It allowed them to run past it towards the panel if they were fast enough, it only required the right timing to do so, and seeing as they’d gotten through this many times before, they were capable of accomplishing the infuriating task. 

Waiting, and when they spotted the perfect opportunity to strike, they took it. Charging towards the panel and yanking the lever to turn off the dangerous machine, letting out a sigh of relief as it shut down.

“UGH- Come on! You’re no fun at all!”. The well-known high-pitched robotic voice cried out, a visual screen appearing on the door’s HUD. An annoyed scribbled face stared down at them with its frowny brows and upside-down smile. 

Crossing their arms, they glared back at the face on the monitor. The two of them stared at each other before the screen animatedly rolled its eyes, disappearing and returning the screen to its usual display of numbers.

No idea why a corporation wasted its funding on electric signs, it was impractical as the AI had long since taken over the security of the base. Putting the thought aside, they rummaged through a desk, finding the keycard necessary to unlock the door. Making their way through to the next area. At last.

The next room consisted of pitch-black darkness, letting out a groan as they grabbed their flash beacon off their holster and flashed the room like a flash grenade, using the light to momentarily scan their surroundings.

Spotting no threats, they continued towards the corresponding sound. They were really unfortunate with the amount of encounters they had with the occupants of the facility, hoping to make it back to the safety of Sebastian’s dwelling. It couldn’t come sooner.

<...>

Treading forward with the cramp in their leg, rubbing their eyes in an attempt to soothe their soreness. Exhaustion was shown in their poor posture, leaning forward with frustrating back pain. Complaining about it like they were an elder.

Stretching out as a yawn escaped them, the sound of cracking bones as their joints and bones clicked back in place, relieving them of the tension that had built up. A sigh of relief allowed them to feel at ease. At least temporarily.

With the moment of relaxation over, they progressed to the corresponding room. After so many rooms, it was tiresome at this point. A repetitive cycle of entering rooms, responding to threats, and going forward. It was necessary but infuriating.

They stopped when they heard the distant continual clang of metal, their senses returning to the same state of alertness. The familiar dread of fear returned as it burned at their chest, glancing behind them in distress just in case it was another wall dweller stalking behind them. 

It confused them to hear the sound, it wasn’t anything they were accustomed to. It was something heavy moving through the vent, which was rather suspicious considering nothing they knew occupied the vents. Unless it was a monster, one they didn’t know.

With caution, they moved forward into the next mundane chamber. The banging only got louder, sounding closer and closer as it roamed above them. As if the creature were right above them within the ceiling, the only thing separating them was the thick layer of metal that likely wouldn’t hold long with the power the beasts held in Blacksite.

 The lights malfunctioned, flickering as their power struggled to maintain its current of electricity. Reacting speedily and swiftly, they raced towards the nearest locker with a quick scan of the void’s eyes before ramming open the doors and diving in, bracing for the screams of the angler or fighting back against pandemonium if it had spotted them. 

Which wouldn’t be easy, especially on their poor hands. They’d have to waste some of their precious medical supplies on the scratches and bruises on their hands, repeating the process rooms later. 

A loud bang of metal rang around the room, tearing the vent entrance off its hinges with a mere punch as it echoed and reverberated off the walls of the room, sending it flying against the other wall as something pulled itself out of the vent. 

It wasn’t the tip taps of a wall dweller's stumpy footsteps, nor was it the sound of moving water or the sound of a rushing angler. It wasn’t any of that, it was the noise of something rustling against the floor. Movement without the help of walking with two feet. 

A low yet audible hissing rumbled throughout the room, constant as whatever moved across the floor stalked the room like a hungry predator, hunting for its prey. It knew they were in the room as it refused to leave, pursuing them as it checked the room constantly. Waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

To conceal themselves further, they held their hands over their mouth to hinder the sound of their breathing, refusing to move even a single muscle in fear of being found by the thing. Only hearing the sound of their heartbeat, their hot breath and the lingering hissing of the creature as it sounded far too close for comfort.

Too close. 

Suddenly, another blooming bang rang out, louder and thundering as the heavy metal object collided with the floor. Followed by the break of ceramic as a potted plant was flung across the room in the beast's frustration. Letting out a monstrous growl in the process as it continued to throw down lockers and desks in its rampage.

They couldn’t help but hold back a flinch every time something was sent flying, the thundering noise crashing only getting louder and louder as it drew closer towards them. 

Only for it all to stop.

Instinctively they held their breath, the sound of taps against the locker door beside them. As if knocking to come inside, an incentive for them to send them screaming. But, they refused. Not budging an inch in its attempt to scare them. 

Biting down their wounded tongue to a point they nearly hissed in pain, staying as quiet as possible so as not to hinder their hiding spot. Although they likely had been spotted long ago, the monster continued to toy with them as a form of entertainment.

It sent shivers down their spine, their arms shaking in pure terror of the beast on the other side of the door. It played with them like food, like prey. 

<...>

A shriek of horror, screaming as the doors of safety were suddenly sent flying open as claws ripped open the doors off the body of the locker. Leaving them open and vulnerable to the attack they were about to face, they quickly sprung up into action and ran past the beast's side towards the door.

Only for its claw to grasp their neck, a tight grip that threatened to rip open their throat or choke them to death. The safety of their foothold was stripped away as they were held upward from their neck, their feet kicked and squirmed as they struggled against its grip.

Their hands held onto the claw like a lifeline, their grip tightening on the wrist that held them as they struggled for breath. Tears poured from their eyes like a flowing waterfall as they cried out in pain.

“P-please! Let me go!”, the words barely made past their weak hoarse voice, begging the monster to free them from their cage. Almost choking on their spit as the beast let out a cackling laugh at their pathetic cries.

They opened their eyes.

What they saw was a sight that petrified them to their very core, sending a wave of dread and fear. Their mind panicked for fight or flight as they struggled to conclude, only to simply stay still as if playing dead. Their body ceased in their struggles as they witnessed the frightening sight before them. 

A large, cavernous maw with rows of jagged sharp teeth threatening to pierce their flesh. A bioluminescent muscle of a forked tongue dripping with saliva like a predator awaiting its prey after a long hunt of patience and struggle. 

Dangling them above its open jaw it prepared to crunch and chew them down with ferocious hunger, pressing them against their tongue as it tasted them for delicious flesh. Letting out a ravenous growl as it impatiently sampled its meal, dragging it across their face.

It pulled them closer, closer into their awaiting maw. Laying their face down on its tongue, narrowly missing the teeth. The mouth pooled with saliva, rapidly kicking out as they began to struggle against it, struggling to escape from their incoming fate.

Anxiety and adrenaline were their only company as they kicked out against the grip, attempting to bite down on the hand that held them. Only for a piercing growl to threaten them, silencing them for a moment.

Allowing the beast the opportunity to swallow.

A loud gulping sound as the monster swallowed them down into their anticipating stomach, strong in its pull as it only took a mere few gulps to send them down into its throat. Struggling was futile as the cramped oesophagus pushed against them, refusing to let them budge an inch. Leaving them with no option other than to wait for the pit that was the stomach of the creature. It could swallow them whole, like a bite of a morsel. Meaning they stood no chance against the offender, surrendering to their fault.

That was how it was going to end. With them being a beast's meal.

After a wait for the inevitable, the muscles pulled them down as they made their way into the belly of the monster. The walls dripped with mucus as it was spacious enough to house them within the cramped space. As if they were just the size for an appetising meal.

The stomach glowed faintly with blue bioluminescence like starlight littering the walls that would’ve otherwise been a comforting blanket in any other circumstances. It reminded them of a night sky as they curled up as much as they could within the claustrophobic space. 

Surrendering to their fate, they let out a whimpering cry.

<...>

“Pfft- You should’ve seen your face!”, a mocking voice reverberated around them. A voice they were more than acquainted with as they immediately recognised it. The chamber that housed them vibrated as the host let out a series of laughter.

Wiping away a tear from their eye, they punched the velvet wall with the hardest punch they could muster in their position. The predator let out a hiss of pain in between his laughs as he reacted to the pang of pain.

A hand crept its way to the wall of bruised flesh, rubbing it soothingly as it attempted to quell the pain of their hit. The wall collided with their diving suit, flinching away from the touch as they braced themself.

It halted.

“You… Okay?”, a worried voice called out to them. His tone was concerned yet hesitant as he asked the question as if the words were unfamiliar on his tongue. The walls pressed against them, his stomach tensed as if he were checking as if they were still there occupying his stomach.

Their body remained tense in their foetal position, sniffling as they held back the tears that threatened to leak out from their eyes. They’d already cried so much, they didn’t need to worry him with their fear.

Remaining silent, unresponsive as a whimper broke past their quivering lips. Barely holding their composure as they held back the urge to scream and cry out in a breakdown. Gripping the hairs atop their head.  A way of relieving stress.

He let out a thoughtful hum, seemingly understanding as it took him some time to think of a response to their reaction. Only to spill out a few words;

“I really scared you… Didn’t I?”. Sebastian was never exactly great at comforting people, after isolation for so many years. You learnt to threaten your way through, not to comfort the people who showed kindness to him. He hardly knew how to react at the time, often responding with distant words and a display of discomfort. 

This time, however, he was to blame for their fear.

“You think so?!...”, they snapped with a venomous tongue. Glaring at the stomach that encased them like a reluctant hug. The stomach quickly tensed at their words, and the hands that held the stomach yielded as he physically surrendered to their words.

The atmosphere was tense as the two of them couldn’t speak, Sebastian not too sure how to respond to their anger and them, keeping their mouth shut in fear of upsetting Sebastian and causing an argument between the two. 

Neither of them wanted to break the silence.

Eventually, Sebastian let out a sigh. His hand returned to their backside and rubbed it in an attempt to soothe and comfort them in a tender embrace. He’d never audibly apologise, the words poisonous to his vocabulary.

Letting out a sniffle, they leaned back against the touch. Accepting his makeshift apology as it was, finding comfort in the only touch of a friend within the depths of Blacksite. Allowing them to slowly relax and surrender to their exhaustion, letting out a yawn.

It was nice to be in another company, whether it be outside or inside. He seemed to chuckle as they relaxed against his touch.

“Tired, eh? I’ll have you know… I’ve recently decided to charge expendables to spend the night with me, a fair exchange. And seeing how you’ve already made yourself comfortable- And seeing as I caused you an… inconvenience… How about I offer you a discount?”. He played off his theatrics as usual, tending to prefer to lean back into his facade of dramatics.

“A discount?! After all that bullshit-”, they called out his ludicrously, crossing their arms in a frustrated huff. Of course the merchant would take any opportunity to seize money out of their customers, such was the life of a salesman.

Yet, he quickly surrendered. 

“Alright! Alright! How about I cut you a deal? Seeing as you’re a loyal customer, how about I let you use me as a sleeping bag for…”, he drew it out with the slurring of his tongue. “Free!”, he seemed to pat his stomach proudly at the idea of such a deal.

Annoyed by his dramatic acting, they pulled back their fist as they prepared to punch his flesh once again. He seemed to sense their movement as he quickly reacted against their retaliation. 

“Okay!- I’ll stop!... You should rest though, you’ve been through enough today”. He spoke surprisingly softly, and the hand that stroked their back gently continued in its path. The tender touch was enough to send them into a lull of safety, falling asleep mere moments later after his encouragement.

He held back a chuckle, allowing his occupant to sleep soundly in the comfort of his belly. The faintest of smiles on his face as he carefully navigated his body through the vents, attentive as to not wake up his loyal customer. Or should he say, friend? He wasn’t sure but knew that his attachment was going to be a hindrance to him one way or another.

It didn’t matter though, so long as they were safe.

He was surprised, to say the least. They managed to get pretty far away from him after their clumsy escape, perhaps it was a result of his stupor from the recovery of a flash beacon pointed into his eyes. Usually, he wouldn’t allow that off of any expendable person. But, he made an exception.

Maybe, too many exceptions. He was going to chase after them anyway, they had asked to practise against the horrors of Blacksite. And what better than the apex predator?

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 46)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (45) | Next (47)

Content Warning: Soft vore, full tour (not explicit at the end), sexual themes, some graphic descriptions of digestion (prey does not actually get digested)

Word Count: 3.1k

------ Chapter 46: Living Labyrinth ------

Candy sat in Hardon’s stomach, watching the living meat walls shift and churn in a rhythmic pattern. The growls from his stomach as it attempted to digest her rumbled like an earthquake and thundered in her ears. The acid swirled and fizzed around her, breaking down unrecognizable chunks of dissolving food into grotesque mush. 

She had been in this stinking sack of meat many, many times by now. However, this particular instance was different. Her fear was fresh, the tension as harsh and palpable as the noxious fumes. Candy was terrified the king would uphold his threat to not let her out. The last place she wanted to die was inside him, to be absorbed into his body, to become one with the giant she found so repulsive. 

The king went about his day as usual, walking and moving and sitting. Candy sloshed around in his belly with every movement, lapped by waves of acid. Even when he was at rest, his colossal body was alive around her, throbbing and beating and squelching. When he spoke, the deep, rich tones reverberated through his viscera, filling the hollow spaces in his body and Candy’s like the omniscient voice of a grand deity. Most of the time, Candy could hear him droning on in conversations to other people, but she had to strain to hear anyone else. 

She snapped to attention when she realized he was addressing her directly. “Time is sliding through your fingers, darling,” he cooed, rubbing his belly maliciously. Candy could see the compression from the inside, squishing into the stomach lining. “You don’t have much of it left.”  

“L-let me out of here!” she shouted. She channeled all her frustration and fear into her fist and punched the pressed-in stomach wall with all her might. The deep rumble of a chuckle rolled through the hollow belly, knocking her off her feet. Candy quaked with dread at the terrible sound, tears springing into her eyes.  

“Not this time,” the giant boomed. Candy shuddered as the sonic vibrations reverberated within the fleshy cavity. 

“P-p-please!” Candy wailed. “Why would you do this to me? I’m not ready to die!” All she got in response was another uproarious chuckle that made her skin crawl. 

“Darling... it’s up to you whether you live or die now. If you have the tenacity and mettle to pull through, you might have a chance to survive.” Candy opened her mouth to yell back, only to be tossed backwards as the giant stood up and started walking. She flailed helplessly as the choppy waves of gastric juices slapped her and threatened to subsume her.  

She ruminated on his words with confusion as she rocked in the churning digestive organ, the muscular walls kneading in a regular pattern. The stomach groaned and grumbled as it labored to break her down, just like any other bite of meat. What was she supposed to do? She was trapped. There was no way out. She couldn’t exactly crawl up his throat and free herself. The entrance to the stomach, a ring of tight muscle, pulsed high above her head, out of reach. 

She went limp with wretched anguish, unable to stop the flow of tears again. She didn’t know what to do. Nobody was here to help or comfort her, not even Millie. She was going to die a slow and excruciating death, alone, with only mushy slop for company. The acid splashed around her, dragging her with the current from one end of the stomach to the other. Candy didn’t want to imagine what would happen when the magic serum wore off, and she’d be digested alive. It was too horrific to contemplate; her conscious mind shirked away from it. 

She observed, with foreboding, that the digested pulp was gradually draining out of the stomach. She’d noted the phenomenon before, of course, without much thought of what came next. The food contained in the stomach, once broken down into a slurry, would move on into the next stage of digestion, to the intestines. The nutrients would be further processed and absorbed, and the remainder disposed of. A natural, consistent function, of course, one that comprised the inner world of the giant king. His gastrointestinal system was like an efficient industrial machine, excising the nutrients from the food that he ingested, transforming it into an unrecognizable state as it journeyed entirely through his colossal body, from entrance to exit. Orifice to orifice. Mouth to anus. 

There was a way out. The realization, rather than bringing relief, filled her with horror. She wasn’t ready to explore the unknown depths of his bowels. Candy was so repulsed by the very notion, that she could scarcely even bring herself to consider the idea. However, being reduced to chyme herself didn’t sound any better. She swam around in the pocket of flesh, searching. Her bare foot bumped into a bulbous protrusion at the base of the stomach, partially submerged in gastric fluid. Candy looked down to behold another restricted orifice, similar to the one from which she entered the stomach from the esophagus. 

She froze up, a sickening dread cascading over her. She didn’t want to do this. She wanted to cry again, but she knew it would do her no good. A baleful grumble emanated the boiling sea, making her shudder at the implications. She envisioned her skin peeling of, layer by layer, to expose the raw muscles underneath. The flesh melting away to reveal the shocking white of her bones. Suffocation as the acidic effluvium scorched her lungs. Abysmal agony, relief only coming with the bittersweet embrace of death. The vessel for her soul, diminished to nothing more than an inanimate carcass: calories to pad the fat of the giant’s thighs. 

Intense fear of a harrowing death supplied the impetus to push her onward. She dove down, forcing her hands and arms into the pyloric sphincter. With a deep breath, she plunged her head and torso inside, squirming to force herself through the tight muscular opening. She managed to squeeze down into the duodenum with a repulsive squelch, flopping into the folds of the fleshy tube with revulsion. She didn’t allow herself to contemplate the abysmal fate that awaited her, or think about the consequences of her terrible, but unavoidable, choice. She crawled forward instead, sliding down a trail of bile through the C-shaped bend into the unknown darkness beyond. 

Hardon was sitting on his throne, with his royal advisor standing on one side and his personal guard on the other, when he felt Candy slip into his intestines. He let out a low moan of pleasure as he doubled over and rubbed his abdomen, smiling maniacally to himself. The squirms of her tiny limbs as she clambered through his intestines were like an internal massage in an erogenous zone. The experience was intense enough to arouse him. “Mmmm... Goodness, Candy, that feels sublime... ohhhhhhh...” he moaned near his abdomen, where he knew Candy would be able to hear him. 

“I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that, Your Majesty. Are you feeling ill?” Leon inquired. He couldn’t help but notice the king mumbling incoherently and moaning, bent over at the waist as he massaged his middle. 

“Shut up, Leon. I’m not talking to you,” King Richard growled. He caressed his paunch and whispered something else, a hideous grin marring his face. 

Leon gulped. “My apologies, Your Majesty. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” He lapsed into silence with growing concern as he watched the odd display, the king murmuring to his midsection like a senile old man.  

“I need to rest,” the king announced, springing out of his chair with a lively enthusiasm that belied his statement. “I will retire to my quarters. Have the kitchen send me something sweet to snack on.” He left, Ajax following close behind. He wanted to release his lust and rub one out in privacy. 

Meanwhile, inside him, Candy navigated the long, winding tunnel of his small intestines. Her progress was sluggish as she waded through the soggy chyme, saturated by gastric fluid and gelatinous mucus. The tapestry of villi coating the inner folds of flesh rippled in a steady current, gradually dragging the mushy contents forward along with her small form. While the fumes weren’t as potent as in the stomach, the smell was still foul, enough to make her retch. 

Nevertheless, despite her horror and abhorrence, she climbed through the hellish maze with a steely determination to survive at all costs. She felt she’d be letting Millie down, her former protector, if she gave up and died in this living sewer pipe. She was terrified. Various sounds echoed through the Stygian corridor in a grotesque and disturbing ambience: the unrelenting pounding of the giant’s heart, gurgles and squelches and deep growls, primordial moans from the unfathomable depths beyond. She felt vulnerable, diminished, and insignificant, lost and alone in what felt like meaty underground catacombs. 

“Mmm, Candy, keep wriggling around like that. It feels so good,” Hardon’s voice blared all around her. Deeper down in his innards, she could mostly only hear the rich bass tones reverberating through the empty cavities. She tried her best to ignore the giant as he teased her and prodded at his gut, compressing the tunnels around her with an uncomfortable squish, like the sound of a wet sponge being wrung out. She wanted to scream when the fleshy folds squeezed around her; she thrashed to escape their tight embrace, sliding out and scrabbling ahead. The king moaned in a deafening rumble that shook her to her marrow, both physically and psychologically.  

She kept moving, even as the banging in her ears intensified with his heightened heartbeat and elevated breathing. She hated to think what he was doing, but the noticeable swishing of the blood through the blood vessels embedded in his organs, his insufferable erotic moans, his rising internal body temperature, and his rocking, jerking motions were impossible to misinterpret. The lecherous, sadistic giant was pleasuring himself to her suffering, reveling in every small squirm that he could feel inside. Candy was mortified, yet unsurprised. She tried not to let his gross perversions phase her and kept going.  

She struggled to maintain her footing as she crawled through the muck, cradled by the undulating intestinal lining. Every subtle movement from the giant’s larger body made her hands slide and swish over the slick, uneven wrinkles, knocking her down in a humiliating sprawl. The tubes twisted and winded in random directions, sometimes dumping her blindly down a chute or reversing course. The unpredictable directions made her dizzy. Occasionally the passageway would slope upward, impossible to climb with how slick and pliable the creases were. Candy could only wait as the muscular contractions slowly shuttled her along, the villi tickling her skin in a way that made her shiver with disgust. 

The conduit of gurgling meat was endless. Candy felt like she had been creeping through miles of sludge. Globs of rancid juices dripped on her head and down her back as she strained to continue forward. An escalating panic grew in her chest, threatening to explode in a tempestuous burst. She recalled Hardon’s cryptic conversation before he swallowed her with fresh understanding, about how it would take days for food to make the full journey through his viscera. He claimed the anti-digestion potion only lasted two days, while the trip through his body could take as long as three. Her limbs weakened at the thought. She couldn’t last that long, within this confined hell. She might not survive; she might exert all this effort, only to die regardless. 

Her world turned sideways, and she rolled along the inner wall of the tube and fell into one of the creases with a nasty plop. The giant’s heartbeat declined, and his breathing deepened, the steady swell and ebb of his body slowing. He was falling asleep. Candy wondered what time it was, whether it was night or if he was just taking a nap after blowing his load. She couldn’t tell. Deep in his bowels, the flow of time was only measured by the steady rippling of the intestines sluggishly shuffling the chyme along a fixed course. She felt as if she had spent an eternity down here, as if she had always been here, wandering in this subterranean labyrinth. Her life on the outside felt like a false dream, a delusional fantasy, a bitter lie.  

Even so, she chased that dream with desperation. She wanted to live. She wanted to be free. In a painful yearning that she had long since buried in sorrows, she even thought about the handsome giant knight she had believed herself to be fated to. That was the worst lie of all. She finally succumbed to her misery and fatigue and collapsed, allowing the pulsing walls to carry her along. She couldn’t propel herself any longer. She cried until she lost consciousness. 

A drop of fluid from the wriggling ceiling splattered her face and stung her eyes, waking her up. She didn’t know how long she had been asleep, but nothing had changed. It was almost as if she had made no progress at all, in the infinite loops of intestines. She didn’t have the strength to pull herself up. She stared numbly at the dripping wrinkles, squiggling with those innumerable sausage-like protrusions. She was thirsty, but of course there was no unpolluted water in sight. She’d probably be hungry too, if her repulsive surroundings didn’t nauseate her so much. She understood now why the king had given her a final breakfast. He knew the torture he was going to put her through, and desired to make her last as long as possible, even if ultimately she didn’t make it out in one piece. 

As if her thoughts had summoned the vile monster, his sonorous voice blasted through his organs. “Candy? Are you still alive in there?” Candy watched helplessly as the tube around her flattened from the pressure of his hand over his gut, while he searched for her. She squeaked when he found her, squashing her in the mass of flesh. She writhed to get free, eliciting a hearty, booming laugh from the giant. 

“Ah, there you are!” his voice bellowed. “You’d better keep moving! You might not finish the course alive at this rate!” Though Candy couldn’t see his face, she could imagine the gross leer on his visage, showing off his big teeth. She shuddered, and he moaned with satisfaction from the sensation. 

“Oh, breakfast time!” the king announced with glee. Candy’s heart sank. She’d been inside him for an entire day. Her time was running out. She felt weak and defeated, drained by the intolerable heat, the odors, the exertion, the grotesque scenery—all of it. She couldn’t bring herself to move a single muscle. 

“Chester! I’m sure you’ve reclaimed my darling Millie by now?” As she laid on her back, squelching through the grooves along with the transformed remains of yesterday’s breakfast, she relinquished all her remaining hope. She couldn’t hear Chester’s response, but she knew there was no way that Millie could escape Chester’s nose.  

There was a long pause. The king’s pulse quickened. “YOU DIDN’T FIND HER?!” he exploded in a deafening roar. Candy was thrown about by the giant’s violent upheaval, slapping into the wall. “THAT’S NO EXCUSE! GET YOUR ASS OUT THERE AND BRING HER TO ME!!!” Candy’s ears rang from the volume, as if cannons had been fired right next to her head. 

Even so, she was elated at the fantastic news. Her sacrifice hadn’t been in vain! Millie had eluded capture! Revitalized, she sprang into action, flipping over to resume her journey. Candy realized she couldn’t let the king win. She couldn’t give up, even when her situation was hopeless. The gigantic body around her shifted and made obnoxious noises, but she pressed on. She could hear the king muttering savage invectives like the drone of thunder, bringing her spiteful satisfaction. 

Her positive mood didn’t last, but her resolve did. She utilized all her remaining willpower to haul one arm in front of the other, clambering over the furrows and through the contorting tangle of twists and bends. The agonizing minutes conglomerated into hours. The going became more difficult as the slurry thickened, and the acidic bile made everything even slimier. Her palms and knees kept slipping, especially as fatigue gnawed at her sore muscles. 

Her senses and thoughts dulled. She couldn’t focus on her surroundings, so much so that she ended up careening down a dark chasm and landing in a shallow cleft made by two ridges of meat. She couldn’t get up, couldn’t even keep her eyes open, so she rested limply in the channel, nudged along by the steady flow. She flickered in and out of awareness, only brought back by the substantial bass of the king’s voice, or when her face was submerged in liquid. 

She became dimly aware of being squeezed through a valve of some sort, and the passage widening around her. The little sausage-shaped protrusions vanished, and the irregular folds gave way to larger ridges in a more standard pattern. Candy felt herself gradually rising, but was too incoherent and unresponsive to do anything. She wasn’t sure if the tunnel was becoming darker or if her eyes weren’t working as well, but she was straining to see any details. The glow from her skin was fading. The flesh encompassing her and pushing her upwards felt hotter, unbearably so. Her skin began to sting in an unpleasant manner, and the malodorous air thinned, making it harder to breathe. Despite these alarming developments, Candy was unable to snap out of her daze. She fainted again. 

Pitch blackness swallowed her mind. She only regained awareness when she was unexpectedly hit by a deluge of icy cold water. She tried to resist, weakly, as powerful giant fingers buffeted her on all sides, washing her off with stinging soap and water. She groaned as she was dried off with a fluffy towel, then dropped onto a soft, dry surface. Her eyes fluttered open. 

She experienced a cold shock as she was met with a frigid gaze from a pair of all-too-familiar gigantic pale irises that struck her to her innermost roots. Staring into those eyes was like diving into an Arctic sea, ringed by glaciers and snowfall. She quivered with abject terror as her rational mind grasped where she was. 

“Welcome back, my sweet little morsel,” King Richard gloated with an obscene grin.  

Chapter 47

Tag List: @tinycoded360 @yummynomms @maybeiamdownbad

[smallbigworld]

Hello G/t community. I've had a terrible month so far and apologize for the delay in my stories. Before I post anything, I want to introduce everyone to the Norman-verse. (I'm workshopping the name.)

World building is my favorite part of creating stories. It brings life and detail into normal stories. This universe has been formulating in my head for years and I finally get to share it with others. I will be adding to this lore as time progresses.

In this universe the two main inhabitants are humans and Normen(the giants)

There will be a main world, but it's a universe with lots of worlds, and maybe some things could be different in different worlds.

The Normen and humans have a lot of aspects that make them unique from each other.

*Physical differences

*Cultural and religious differences

*Anatomical differences

*Environmental differences

*Social differences

*Psycological differences

Today I want to start with Physical differences. Also I would love for anyone to make suggestions on what they think some of it could be.

Physical differences & attributes

*Height: 50-70 feet average.

The average child is between 50-60 feet.

Adults can range anywhere from 60 to 75 feet tall.

*They have thick & dense skin

*They build muscle easier and have stronger builds.

*They have sharp teeth & fangs that helps them bite through anything with ease.

*They have large, pointy ears that are sensitive to hearing

* They have unique patterns over their skin. Patterns and shapes vary from Norman to Norman.

*Skin, eye and hair colors includes more colors

Let's talk about it

Skin colors: It's normal for Normen to have the same skin colors as humans but at least 20% of the Normen population get born with colors such as pink, purple, green and blue.

Eye colors: Any eye color is possible but the normal human colors brown, green and blue are rare in Normen.

Hair colors: Once again, any color is possible but the normal human colors especially blonde and ginger are rare in Normen.

* They have tails resembling those of lizards and this helps them stay balanced.

*They have retractable claws that helps them hunt larger animals.

In my next post, I'll be focusing on every vore fan's favorite part. The Anatomical Differences.

If you actually read all this, thanks. I don't really expect people to get into the world building yet when there aren't stories yet but I want people to be able to understand more things about this universe.

[yummynomms]

Accidents Pt. 2!

Once again, quite angsty! But ends on a fluffy note this time ;3

Previous

and they're alright!! the general consensus was that we all wanted our poor tiny to get out safely, (me too!), so...

Tags: @voraciousvore @emijkoxy

[fiber-optic-alligator]

For the one word prompts: caught?

For you, anon, you get Rodimus being a well-intentioned asshole! How fun!

WARNING: THIS STORY INCLUDES SAFE VORE. THIS THIS IS SOMETHING THAT MAKES YOU UNCOMFORTABLE, THEN PLEASE DO NOT READ.

The night is dark, and you are alone. Sitting at the bar, voices and music mingle together and create a despondent melody which does nothing to ease your aching heart. You stare into the drink you are nursing; the amber liquid makes your lip curl with a grimace. Shaking your head, you push it away.

The bar is lively, yet lonely. You aren’t the only one here who is by themselves, yet the company of solitude isn’t one you wished for or anticipated. Gnawing resentment hollows out your gut. This is the last time you ever trust one of those stupid matchmaking apps. Stood up on the fifth date, and you don’t even know what you’ve done wrong. Is it your clothes? Does your breath smell? What about your hair? Is your personality shitty? You’ve spiraled through the panic and sadness, but now is time for the stage of dull anger. If they didn’t want to be with you, they at least could have told you properly. It’s a whole lot better than being completely left in the unknown.

Someone slides up into the stool next to you. No mind is paid on your part until they speak. “Rough night, huh?”

You lift your eyes to the man and take him in. He’s slouched forward with his arms crossed on the counter, head lowered a bit so he can see your face. His hair is held up by an orange headband, and he has a massive black flame tattoo rippling down his right arm. His eyes are curious and kind. His smile, though soft and without teeth, somehow dazzles you. He’s sort of dressed like he’s ready to go to an 80’s-themed Halloween party…but you can’t deny that he is quite handsome.

You huff and look back at your drink. “I’ll say.”

“It’s fine.” The man’s voice is smooth, practiced. You have a feeling he’s spoken to others in this exact same scenario before. “Plenty of people here are goin’ through it. But you…you seem more defeated than upset.”

You don’t appreciate this stranger butting into your private life while you’re wallowing in your misery. Shooting him a glare, you spit venom from your lips. “I didn’t ask for your pity, and I certainly don’t want it. Who even are you, and why the hell are you trying to talk to me?”

He holds up his hands placatingly. “Woah, woah. I’m not trying to start anything, if that’s what you’re worried about. I just…I saw you, alright? I saw you, and you looked…really down. Kinda tugged at my sparkstrings-uh, heartstrings-to see someone so sad like this. I thought…maybe I can help cheer you up.”

You give him an incredulous look. “Are you trying to hit on me by telling me you’re sad to see me alone at a bar?”

“What? No! Did you not hear a word I just said? You look like you could use some company, that’s all!”

“Well, I don’t want company. I want to be alone.” Your voice cracks a little. I feel like I’ll be alone for the rest of my life.

The man is silent, searching your features with those soulful auburn eyes. His voice is nearly a whisper. “Date chickened out on you?”

“...I guess it’s pretty apparent, isn’t it?”

“Not to be an asshole, but I kinda guess that’s the main reason why I see miserable people drinking alone at a bar.”

You laugh. It’s not a bitter sound, yet it isn’t totally happy either. It’s simply a sign of minor relief to be laughing at all. To feel your heart do that funny little jump that comes with being around someone who doesn’t make you feel totally lost. Despite only having met him a few minutes ago, this man has a charismatic aura about him that naturally pulls you in.

He grins. “Look at that. I got a laugh outta you. That’s a good start. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

“I don’t tend to reveal just anything to strangers I’ve only known for less than 24 hours,” you reply.

“Touché. So why don’t we become more than strangers? I believe the term is…acquiescence?”

“Acquaintance.”

“Ah, right.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “Sorry. English…isn’t my first language. Anyway, what’s your name?”

“Y/N,” you answer. “What’s yours?”

Panic crosses his face fleetingly. “Um…m-my friends call me…Roddy.”

“Roddy?” You raise an eyebrow. “That’s…interesting.”

“I know, I know, not ideal by people's terms. But it’s just what stuck.” He shrugs. “I like your name better. It’s pretty.”

“You think so?” you ask, unable to hide a genuine smile.

He nods. You are caught in his gaze, and there’s something distinctly captivating. His eyes make you want to believe every word he says. “Why would I lie? It’s a whole lot better than ‘Roddy.’ It’s…nice. I like saying it.”

“I’d hope you’d know better than to try and seduce someone who just got their heart broken.”

“Who says I’m trying to seduce you? Maybe I’m just trying to be your friend.” He laughs, then scoots towards you and dips his head down to peer at you through his lashes. “What, do you think I’m trying to seduce you?”

There it is. You know you’ve lost this battle. “God,” you grumble, ducking away to hide how red your cheeks are. “You are incorrigible.”

“C’mon, it’s making you feel better! You need to get your mind off what happened, right? Hanging out with a friend is exactly how to solve the problem!”

“We aren’t friends. We literally just met.”

He pauses and pouts, leaning back and crossing his arms. You think he almost looks hurt by your claim. “Don’t be like that. We could be friends. This is how humans get to know each other, right? Talking and laughing and bonding?”

You wrinkle your nose in a short chuckle. This guy has the weirdest ways of talking, but you don’t really mind it. You find it endearing. “All of that takes time. I’m not going to trust you instantly. Relationships always need to grow, platonic or not.”

He’s listening with a serious expression. He goes along with what you say, and you genuinely think he’s listening to you. When you’re done, he nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to come on so forwardly, if I did. I…I’d like to be your friend. You seem like you could use one right now. And…I’m here to find one, too.”

“Finding friends in a bar? Are you sure that’s a good idea?” you ask.

He smiles. “I found you, didn’t I? You fit the bill. I can tell you’re kind…sweet. I think we’d be really good friends.” He reaches forward and brushes his fingers against the top of your hand. Something strange happens; there’s a jolt of static that makes your skin tingle, and a shiver goes down your spine. For a moment, your vision seems to swim, and you think you see flashes of red and orange and Roddy’s eyes turning a bright, alien blue. You blink, disoriented, shaking your head in a vain attempt to clear the sudden fog clouding your mind.

“So, what do you think?” Roddy asks, silky smooth. “Will you let me keep you?”

“Keep me…?” you echo.

“Keep as in…befriend. I want to show you there’s more to this universe than the sadness you’re experiencing. This world…Earth…is so small. Wonderful, but…tiny compared to what else is out there. So much to see, so much to do. So much to find. And guess what? I’m gonna find it all. You wanna come with me?”

“You’re confusing me,” you whisper. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He interlocks his fingers with yours. “Let me show you.”

He leads you out the back door into the bar’s parking lot. You feel like you are walking through a daze. You don’t know what’s happening to you, but you want to put your trust in this man. The way he looks back and gives you such a radiant grin, like the sun itself shining upon you, melts your heart.

In the back of the lot, a car awaits. It looks…retro, like him. Sleek, yet exceedingly loud, it’s some sort of muscle car with a host of red, orange, and yellow. Flame decals are painted across the hood. As the two of you draw closer, the lights turn on and the engine rumbles, growling with a pulse that runs through your bones and makes your heart stutter.

Something feels wrong.

It didn’t before. Roddy exudes no sense of danger. Yet this car…it’s off. Not normal. Alarm bells begin going off in your brain. Your feet drag you to a halt.

Roddy gives you an inquisitive look. “What’s wrong?”

You can’t take your eyes off of the car. “I…I don’t want to go near that thing.”

He winces, worrying at his bottom lip as he glances at the car with a concerning amount of confliction. He squeezes your hand.

“It’ll be okay,” he says. And then, his entire body ripples with a burst of static, and he disappears.

You don’t know what’s happened. Staring at your hand, you blink in shock. You can still feel the warmth of the man’s fingers pressed between yours. Was…was he even there at all? Did you imagine it? No, you couldn’t have. The car is still there. What the hell is going on?!

The car moves.

An alien sound emits from it as you watch it begin to shift in on itself before your very eyes. The mass of metal expands and grows, forming a pair of arms and legs, a torso twisting and snapping into place, massive shoulder blades heaving upward with a head rising up with sharp finials extending like dragon horns. Twin pairs of bright cyan optics open and immediately focus on you. You feel your heart drop straight into the pit of your stomach. It’s a robot. A car-turned-robot. You think you might have ingested too much alcohol, but the way the robot’s body whirs with the smooth sound of machinery as it takes a step towards you, the way you can feel the vibration of its feet hitting the pavement is so, so real, you know this is happening. This isn’t a hallucination.

You still don’t know where Roddy went.

The robot makes a purring noise, squatting down and extending a hand. Panic rips through you, and you stumble back, avoiding the reaching fingers. “No!” you shriek. “Stop! Don’t!”

It pauses and frowns, making a low whining noise. It shuffles closer and gestures for you to get closer. You wish to do no such thing; you want to get as far away from this monster as possible. What does it want with you? To kill you? Eat you? No, robots can’t eat. Is it going to abduct you?

Letting out a huff of exhaust, the robot’s eyes narrow resolvingly. It inches closer, and you continue to move back. There is nowhere to go. You can’t make a run for it. It’s faster. You can tell. There is no chance of escaping.

Your eyes flash to the bar’s back door. Not thinking about the possible consequences, you act only upon pure, desperate instinct. Like a deer bolting from a wolf, you whirl and pelt for the door, pushing every ounce of strength into your legs to propel yourself as quickly as possible. Get away. You need to get away.

You aren’t fast enough.

The robot slams its hand down on top of you. The breath is knocked from your lungs as metal presses you into the pavement. Fingers tightly cage you in, pinning your arms to your sides. Everything spins when you are lifted into the air, slowly, gradually. You cry out and struggle with all of your might, screaming bloody murder at the thing. “No! No! Stop! Stop it! Put me down!”

The robot warbles loudly. Is…Is this fucking thing laughing at you?

Well, all of your bravado goes out the door when it brings you close to its face. Bright optics study you with unsubdued excitement while huge metallic lips part. It grins triumphantly, making a multitude of loud purrs and hums while it turns you side to side like you’re some sort of exotic creature. Fear grips you; there’s so much terror in your soul, you can barely breathe. Too much. This is too much for one night. It’s been tumultuous, and now there’s a giant robot holding you and you might die, you might be-

The robot’s mouth opens wider. There’s a blue pulse deep within it that is the same color as its eyes. You see teeth bigger than your head loom closer as it draws you near, segmented tongue reaching to meet you.

Ah. So you’re going to be eaten, then.

Your scream is cut off when the robot carefully tosses you in. Jaws slam shut and artificial saliva soaks you as you are turned over and tasted again and again and again. Your mind reels with the overstimulation. Everything is happening at once and your brain isn’t keeping up with it. And when you feel the robot tilt its head back and begin pushing you backwards towards its awaiting throat, you can only think of one thing: doom.

Your fingers dig into the plush tongue, searching for any hold that will prevent you from going down. But it is to no avail; the robot simply raises the unbelievable muscle and gives you one last coaxing nudge. With a shriek, you are caught. The throat bobs and gives out a squelching glk. Blue light completely envelops you as you are squeezed and kneaded at all angles. It’s a long journey, one you are hardly conscious of since you nearly pass out from your terror. And when you make it to your final destination, there is no letting up in the embrace. Walls of muscle made out of strange, squishy cables filled with pumping pink liquid force you to sink into their warmth. By god, you are so warm. The robot’s stomach gurgles happily, giving you long repetitive squeezes. You aren’t in any pain. But you are exhausted from the mental and physical strain being eaten alive has exposed you to.

Lying on your stomach, you try to push yourself up in order to fight. The stomach senses this and hugs you even tighter. Your arms shake with fatigue, and you fall back down into the puddle of saliva you landed in. There’s no use fighting. You can’t get out.

Somewhere above you, the robot is purring. A steady hand presses against you from the outside and begins lightly massaging your little form. You let out a weak groan that is meant to be words; perhaps a plea for mercy, or maybe a string of curses. Whatever the intention might be, you don’t have the energy to properly form it. Right now, all you want to do is sleep.

So you do. You are out like a light, pink being the last thing you see. All the while, Roddy’s words repeat themselves to you, over and over and over again. “Will you let me keep you?”

It seems he’s decided not to give you a choice.

[voraciousemo]

A tiny and a writer.

Just got into a tentative relationship.

But this writer hates using anything digital for their work. They prefer a typewriter.

The tiny, cuddling up to their bigger friends neck, lulled to sleep by the clacking sounds. Any cloer, and it would keep them awake.

But from this distance, they could tolerate it. A stifled yawn falling from their lips, causing their writer friend to pause. Carefully scooping the smaller off of their shoulder, lifting them close to their mouth.

With a murmur of 'trust me,' their lips parted, warm breath washing over the smaller.

The smallers perspective, seeing strands of saliva going from their upper canine to their lower lip, taking a deep breath as they reached out, hand resting on their lip. A glance up, and there was an answer. 'I trust you.'

The writers hand tilted back, lightly tipping the small person into their mouth. Quietly moaning at the taste, tongue curving under them.

After a moment, their head tilted back, gravity helping with the smallers descent into their throat.

The trip was much slower than they thought it would be, fingers tracing their form in the writers throat, a happy hum coming from them as they swallowed again, sending them fully into their storage.

The small human yawned, getting comfortable, hearing their friends heartbeat, echoing around them... and they knew they were safe.