#or at least this small part of the vore community

[fastfur07]

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Still Subject to Change Chapter 9 (NEW)

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Hello everyone! i decided to repost arc 1 of SSTC

(the chapters were way too long and had a bunch of typos but hopefully this will make reading easier)

this Story contains Vore, Dont like dont read.

if there are still any grammatical errors i'm sorry.

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Seeing the forest come closer I was actually relieved to finally be out of here and looked over my shoulder to see that the tower really was built to keep big Monsters in there with its thick walls and embedded spikes.

I shuddered and hoped I would never see this thing again, so turning back I instead focused on the treeline and not stepping on anyone.

Yep, still weird to think about that I could end someone's life with a single misstep and I tried not to think about it, and instead just drag my feet over the ground so that if someone were to be there they'd get toppled over and not squished under me.

Reaching the Forest's edge I assumed that they would let us go now, but it seemed we were still too close to their Kingdom so we had to walk into the forest even further.

I didn't dare speak out of fear that they would shoot me, but Robin seemed to have no such concerns.

“When are we there? I want to talk to Donovan, also where's Arthur?”

I tensed at his last Question accidentally squishing Arthur a tiny bit making him move more than before and I hurried to hold my breath and cut off his air supply, however that worked.

He stopped moving after a few seconds but this sure had been a scare, if he had woken up and someone noticed it we would have been fucked.

I still felt incredibly guilty but it couldn't be helped, I just hoped he'd understand.

I almost missed the guy's answer as I was busy holding my breath and my attention was focused more… inwards.

“Oh you can talk to your big friend later ALLLLLL you want as for this Arthur guy? He's been taken care of don't worry”

I did Not like the condescending tone the Guard had used but I couldn't really do anything about it which frustrated me even more.

At least Rikaad was able to step between them and shot a death glare at the offending guard who actually backed up a bit.

We continued walking in silence, safe for the Guards communicating amongst themselves.

I could feel Arthur lying limply against my insides, only moving occasionally and sending a thrill up my nervous system whenever he made a bigger movement.

I tried to Ignore it but since he was literally inside me that was near impossible, and I couldn't help but worry about the feeling.

What if that's what the Bracelet made me do? What if one day it urged me to eat someone for real?

Shoving these thoughts down I instead focused on the road so I wouldn't trip, and I could see that the tower was a bit further away now.

I really hoped they would just let us be already but it seemed that we were still too close to the Kingdom for their comfort.

At this point we had already passed the spot where I got shot at and were led even deeper into the woods towards the mountain.

Coming to a bigger clearing they ushered Robin and Rikaad to be in the center and threw both of them a bag, probably their own stuff judging by the clunking sound of metal.

The Guards still surrounded me, but I wanted them to go away already so I could talk to Robin and try to find a spot where I could let Arthur out so Rikaad wouldn't see it.

Arthur himself was still peacefully asleep, courtesy of a low oxygen environment and had thankfully not woken up during all of this.

But I did dread the part where he would, I didn't know how he would react and it scared me.

I also had to fight to keep my hand from settling over the warm lump in my core so as to not give away anything to the Guards.

The Guards walked around me to stand at the treeline of the small clearing, I didn't move as I really didn't want to step on someone.

Suddenly a Horse came up with an ironclad knight on its back.

The rider removed the helmet and i could see that it was the king, nobody else i knew had such a monobrow.

Did he follow us? I immediately became worried, Would he tell the others that I ate Arthur? I hoped not.

The guards all stood in a line next to him with their crossbows loaded.

I had a bad feeling about this and I was proven right as the king suddenly had a wicked grin on his face.

“SOLDIER! AIM! SHOOT THE BEAST! I WILL NOT TOLERATE SUCH A MONSTER NEAR MY KINGDOM!”

Aa all the Guards suddenly aimed their crossbows at me.

I didn't even wait to see what they would do and Instead turned to run in the opposite direction, snatching up Robin and Rikaad as I did so and getting the hell away from there as fast as I could.

Ignoring Rikaads surprised shout i just ran towards the mountains to bring as much distance between us and Maringand as possible making sure to not drop either of them.

Feeling Arthur start to move again I held my breath once more hoping that he'd fall back asleep even with all the movement.

It took longer than before and sprinting while not breathing made my lungs burn but after about three minutes he was still again.

I really hoped none of the others had noticed him squirming but glancing down while running showed that Rikaad was focused on the way we came, probably looking for any pursuers and Robin was just Clinging to my fingers.

I ran until I could no more, occasionally holding my breath to prevent Arthur from waking up.

I didn't really know how long I had been running but as I looked back I could not see the tower anymore and it was well after midday.

I sank to my knees gently letting Robin and Rikaad to the ground while I panted, my lungs burned from running and holding my breath and I did my best to calm down as fast as possible.

I did not want Arthur to wake up now from all this, not now at least.

I was still trying to figure out how to handle this and having him wake up now would be extremely awkward.

Rikaad seemed to stand Guard and looked in the direction we came from.

“We should continue after you rested, then we can figure out what happened to Arthur and how to get him back”

Ah fuck i really needed to make a plan.

Looking at Robin instead to make sure he was alright too and I didn't grab him too harshly I saw him staring at me, or more specifically my middle.

While I sat there I had unconsciously put a hand over my Pouch where Arthur lay and I yanked it back, looking at Robin and putting a finger over my lips to tell him to never say a word about it.

He nodded but still tilted his head at me with curious look in his eyes, i would tell him later what had happened, when I got the chance to do that without Rikaad listening in.

Being hunched over like this made the weight in my core just a lot more prominent as Arthur was lying on what was previously the front wall.

Getting up again and holding my breath anew even if I still felt like I needed more time to rest.

And feeling Arthur slide around in my pouch when I was hunched over was a bit weird.

I wanted to go as far away as possible as fast as possible from that place so I forced myself to continue on.

“Alright let's go i want to never go near that hellhole again we can worry about Arthur when i'm sure i wont get shot again”

I slowly stood up and went to walk even more towards the mountain.

I was glad that riding on horseback through the woods was not a good idea, otherwise we'd have to worry about that too right now.

Holding my breath again I went in the direction of the mountains in a straight line, not like there were any roads here anyway.

Robin scrambled after me and Rikaad started to walk faster too to keep up.

“It is going to be dark soon we should look for a campsite if possible”

At Rikaads words i looked around, it was indeed getting darker, How long had i been running?

No matter right now I needed to get Arthur out without the others or at least Rikaad noticing and I still didn't have a plan on how to do that.

So we ended up setting up a temporary camp near a river, still far enough to not be able to see said river but close enough to get water, and I felt extremely awkward the entire time.

I had their Friend within me for fucks sake! And the only one that didn't know was Rikaad at this point.

It didn't help that I had to fight with myself to keep my hands from straying to settle onto my middle.

If Rikaad did notice my odd behavior he didn't say anything about it luckily.

I kept frequently holding my breath to make sure Artur did not wake up and hoped to God that this wouldn't give him brain damage from the low oxygen he had been exposed to for some time now.

The Dark came as soon as we managed to light a fire, The crackling sounds provided a soothing white noise and I finally got an idea as I saw in the glinting light how dirty my legs had become.

And not just my legs, everything about me was dusty and on some spots downright caked in dried or fresh mud.

So I stood up and on the other two confused looks told them what I was going to do.

“I'm going to wash myself in the river, stay here i don't want any of you seeing me without clothing”

Robin looked a bit confused at first but then nodded, motioning a thumbs up, he'd been weirdly quiet since the capture.

I would talk to him later to make sure he was alright but for now I had other things to deal with.

Rikaad just made a dismissive hand motion and instead focused on the fire so I left to go a good bit downstream, away from where they could hear or see me.

I went a good bit further than that to make sure that even if it got loud they wouldn't notice, which took about five minutes to walk.

I had stopped holding my breath while walking and I could feel Arthur start to move again as I took deep breaths to supply him with fresh air.

The movements were confused at first, then a curious hand prodded my insides before he went still again, not unconscious, more like a stiff weight that held itself and it seemed like he was terrified of moving.

I even heard him say.

“Oh fuck”

I finally allowed myself to put a hand on my abdomen and poked at him, receiving a surprised noise in response.

“Arthur? Are you okay?”

He shifted confusedly for a second before answering.

“What? You ate me, why would you ask that?”

He seemed still a bit groggy so I would do one thing after the other for now.

“I didn't really eat you, but can you tell me if you're okay?”

I was a bit worried over the fact that I had essentially kept him in a low air environment and hoped I didn't damage his brain or something.

“What do you mean by that? And uh… well i Feel fine? wait-”

He started shifting a lot and I had to bite back a pleased hum at the feeling of having my insides rubbed, I didn't want to scare him after all.

“What the FUCK! Donovan, what the hell is going on?!”

He suddenly was a lot more energetic, seemingly having figured out that he'd been in there for some time now and was still okay.

So best to finally explain this…chaos.

“First off you're fine! And you will stay fine! You're not in my stomach okay?”

“Where the hell am I then? You fucking ate me!”

Well there was the anger, but now I knew that beneath that anger was fear, so I would try my best to reassure him.

“You are in my pouch not my stomach, basically i have some of my organs doubled but not all of them work so you're fine and nothing will happen to you in there”

He seemed to freeze at my words, likely trying to comprehend what I just told him.

Then I felt an indignant kick against my insides.

“WHY THE FUCK DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THIS SOONER!”

Now he really was angry instead of afraid and I sighed.

“I literally couldn't! Not with that Monobrow guy listening in! He would have killed us both!

Besides You said it yourself that you couldn't act to save your life! I'm sorry that I had to do this but it's better than death isn't it?”

He seemed to calm down at my words, probably realizing that I was right.

“So wait, are we still in the tower or why are you suddenly talking to me? And how did you manage to keep me asleep during all of this???”

At least those two questions were easy to answer but I hoped he wouldn't get angry again at hearing that I had deprived him of air.

“We are not in the tower anymore, i got us as far away as possible when we got out, as for keeping you asleep well uh- I just held my breath so you'd get less air?”

He didn't kick or punch me, instead he just flopped backwards against the walls of my pouch.

“You know what, okay why not? Are at least Robin and Rikaad okay? Wait, do they know I'm in here?”

I decided to try and answer the questions in the order I heard them.

“The others are okay, they are at out camp a bit away and no the don't know where you are, at least Rikaad doesn't, and i'd appreciate it if you'd never tell them about this, i'm not keen on getting stabbed by Rikaad to be honest”

He shifted again a bit and I had to suppress another delighted hum.

“So if we are away from the tower can you let me out? No offense but i don't like this and i never want to repeat it”

Walking a bit into the stream after chucking my shoes onto a boulder to keep them dry while he talked I could understand that he didn't want to do this ever again, so as long as he promised to not tell anyone I'd let him out as soon as possible.

“Of course I'll let you out just give me a sec, also can you promise me to never tell Rikaad about this? I'll help you come up with a believable cover story if you want”

Coming up with something would probably be difficult as he admitted to being a bad actor, so something simple would have to do.

Feeling him move again to sit up I walked even deeper into the widest part of the river, but the water still didn't go over my entire legs so I just stood there in the calves deep water listening for his answer.

“Yeah sure, i even swear on God to not tell Rikaad unless you tell me to, now get me out of here”

“Alright… try to go limp… i'm going to get you out now”

I felt a squirm of confirmation as I pressed in with my hand, and tensed up as I forced my body to throw up the form in my pouch.

Feeling something travel the wrong way up your esophagus wasn't by any means pleasant but I was used to it by now from the years of hiding valuables in there.

It wasn't long until I felt the cursing form of Arthur reenter my mouth and I plucked him out with two fingers, dangling him over the river in the pale moonlight.

“Fucking hell! How long was I in there? And set me down already! I hate this!”

I couldn't really set him down right now as I stood in the middle of the river and he would get swept away by the cool water that flowed around my legs so I instead cupped him in my hands.

He was a lot less slimy than I thought he'd be but still needed a wash to get rid of the bit of slime that did cling to him.

“One second, unless you want me to dump you in the river, also how are you? Are you okay?”

I walked back towards the riverbank so I could set him down.

“I've seen better days to be honest, and i'm sorry for what my uncle did to you guys”

Setting him down slowly onto the rocky dirt covered shore I went to wring out the hem of my shirt that had gotten wet when I bent over to get Arthur out before what he said registered in my brain.

“That Was Your Uncle??? What? Wait a sec, if that guy is your uncle then-”

He interrupted me before I could say another word.

“Yes my dad was the King, but frankly i didn't really know him aside from when i had to stand at his side during some stupid events, and no i'm not sad that he's dead i never cared about being some stupid royalty, at least i wasn't inbred like some of my other relatives”

He seemed to shudder at the last bit and not entirely from the cold.

“I thought Winton had told you who i am, ah fuck, how about you don't tell anyone about my royalty status and i keep quiet about the pouch thing okay?”

This did seem like a good deal but one thing confused me.

“Deal! Though, Who the fuck is Winton? Is that the monobrow guy? Don't tell me That ugly fuck is your uncle”

He flopped over into the mud of the riverbank groaning.

“Yes he is, i like to pretend that he's not though, i hate him”

That was completely understandable, I had only been around that guy for about a day and I already despised him as much as physically possible, and Arthur had to live with that for who knew how long.

Though now we needed to come up with a reason as to why Arthur wasn't kept captive anymore.

“So, any idea for a cover story? You know Maringand better than me”

He flopped onto his back in the dirt sighing.

“I'll just tell them i escaped through the sewers, as disgusting as it is it's believable enough and they probably won't ask for details”

That sounded good enough, I knew I wouldn't ask how someone crawled through a sewer, or at least not expect them to answer it.

“So can we go back now? I want to actually see Robin and Rikaad again”

That would be nice, but suddenly coming back with Arthur might be a bit suspicious, there was no way he would have kept up with us, especially since he had way shorter legs than I did and I had done an Adrenaline fueled sprint away from Maringand.

“Not a good idea, you suddenly turning up this fast is going to raise questions so maybe not today, ehh Night i mean”

It would be even better if he backtracked a bit so when Rikaad would usher us back to get him we'd ‘meet’ him on the way.

“Maybe even backtrack a bit? Rikaad is going to go back to get you anyway so if you go back a bit we meet you there and it's more believable”

He slowly sat up, now having mud stuck to the back of his shirt and put a hand over his face.

“Yeah that is a plan, not one im looking forward to but im not going to admit that i was eaten and didn't even do anything to stop you, that's just awkward and kinda embarrassing”

At least he shared my view on that point, so I went to sit next to him in the mud.

I would wash that anyway so I wasn't concerned with getting it even dirtier.

“Well you better get moving then, you have to go downstream and a bit to the right”

I pointed to where he had to go and he slowly stood up and started walking, even if his legs seemed to be moving a bit weirdly, they probably fell asleep in the time he didn't use them.

I was right in my guess as Arthur actually did comment on it.

“Dude my legs are wonky, how long was I in there? no wait don't answer I don't wanna know that, see you and the others tomorrow?”

The last part went an octave higher and I could clearly see that he was worried but did not want to show it.

Instead he started to walk through the woods and I hoped that I hadn't just made a mistake, After all, the woods were still dangerous and now he was unarmed.

I REALLY hoped I hadn't made an irreversible error but he was already out of sight so I went back to striding into the river, planning to finally get all the dirt out of my shirt and pants.

The cool water felt Pleasant against my sore legs and while I just let the stream wash away the mud on my pants I took my shirt off and swirled it in the water a few times to get everything out.

Dragging the now heavier shirt out of the water i wrung it out a few times before realizing that if i put it on again i'd likely get a cold or something, So the shirt had to stay off until it was dried.

Ah Fuck.

That ment i had to go back to the camp shirtless and try to dry it against the comparatively small fire we had.

I hoped no one would take offense to the fact that my top half was naked, but knowing Robin he'd more likely ask about my scars than complain about me missing my shirt.

Standing on the riverbank I wrung out my pants as best as I could while wearing them and slipped my shoes back on as I started to walk back, trying all the while to wring out my shirt as best as I could so it would dry faster.

I returned to a happily flickering fire and saw Rikaad inspecting Robin's face, apparently checking for bruises.

I realized with a pang that I might be too big to see small injuries, at least Rikaad was here to assess them.

Upon hearing me come back two heads simultaneously looked at me but Rikaad went back to checking Robin over who grinned at me.

Something was wrong with his teeth but I couldn't figure out what, I was too far away and probably too big too.

I sat next to the fire and put my shirt as close as I dared, I didn't want it catching on fire after all, then gave a worried look over to Robin.

“Are you alright? You've been weirdly quiet since we left Maringand”

He motioned for me to get closer and I bent down to be more at eye level for him.

He showed off his teeth and I finally saw what was wrong, The tooth behind his left canine had a small piece missing making his canine appear far more pronounced, like a fang.

No wonder he's been so quiet that must have been painful.

“How did that happen? Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

He shook his head, making his messy ginger hair bounce around his skull.

“I'm fine, one of the Maringand Guards told me to shut up and hit my teeth, but that aside where did your shirt go??”

I was glad he seemed to be okay and gestured vaguely to the shirt lying next to the fire.

“I'm letting it dry before putting it back on, not keen on catching a cold out here”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Rikaad nodding.

“A good idea, though we should rest soon i will take first watch”

He did have a point in that, we really should sleep soon and i could put my shirt back on tomorrow as embarrassing as them seeing my scars was i wouldn't risk a sickness right now.

“Is that where your kidney is missing?”

I flinched a bit at the question, it seemed Robin had come closer as I stared into the Flames of the campfire and was looking at the pale line of scar tissue at my side.

“Yeah it is, i'm glad i punched that guy when i did or had have killed me for sure”

He seemed to stare at it a bit longer before his gaze became that glazed over look again for half a minute.

He snapped out of it and shook his head.

“You have any more scars? You don't have to tell me though!”

Well I did have a few more but most of them were from mundane stuff like falling off a tree or climbing into small spaces, though there was a long thin line across my back doing shoulder to shoulder that I received from a blade.

PREVIOUS / NEXT / OVERSIGHT

[hydrochloric-hugs]

Chapter 1

Old blog got reported and I really wanted my icon and background, so here's a repost of the first draft! I plan to edit bc I was out of my head trying to write flying by the seat of my pants, but for now, this is a bit more put together at least!

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: food, meal skipping mention, g/t. Additionally, while not shown in this chapter, this story will probably have non-sexual vore down the line.

“Shit!” Devon ripped his hand away from his unfinished project, attempted to shake the remnants of hot glue from his finger tip.  The deep tan skin of his brow wrinkled in a wince, and he set the glue gun on a scrap of cardboard.

“Try to be nice to mice, and this is what it gets me,” He huffed, glowering at the minor burn he sustained.  Something has been eating holes in his cereal boxes and pillow cases, and as a sophomore in college, he had to pinch every penny he could.  Sure, for now it was barely a contamination concern, but he couldn't afford to call in sick to his job or buy new bed clothes if he let the infestation grow.

That being said, he was a biology major with a minor in keeping sane (read: art).  Hence the contraption he had burned himself creating: a humane mousetrap.  It consisted of a bucket, a ladder, a dowel rod, and some ingenuity.  A large hole was cut in the middle of the bucket lid and a hot glue hinge attached the perimeter of the lid to the loose piece.  Food is put in the middle, mouse goes for the food, falls into the bucket, problem solved.  In theory, at least.  He honestly should have looked up some sort of tutorial rather than building it off the dome.  But Devon was nothing if not determined, even to his detriment.

“Whatever, it should be fine.” He put a bit of pressure on one side of the seesaw-like part of the lid and sighed in relief when it quickly gave way.  He contemplated adding a sort of hide and using extra materials to secure one side, but after checking his watch, bulked.  He knew rodents weren't brainless, but he didn't want to delay the set up of the trap for much longer.  He'd already lost his appetite for his honey-nut cheerios after finding a hole in the box, he'd have to start skipping breakfast if he didn't avert the contamination of his precious corn flakes, too.

He stood on creaky legs, sighed.  He had class in the morning, and he hadn't gotten enough sleep last night.  He shuffled into the bathroom, mindlessly going through his nighttime routine until he threw himself under the dark red sheets of his bed.  Rolling onto his side, he took deep, steady breaths, let the anxieties of the day flow out with each exhale, until one final thought left his weary mind.  Tomorrow, I'm catching that dang rat.

-

Sunlight squeezed through a small crack in the mortar between brown-beige bricks and right into the eyes of a man sleeping in a matchbox full of cloth.  He snorted awake, rubbing his eyes and staring blearily at his surroundings.  Small ornaments, earrings, stamps, and dulled glass adorned the “walls” of his “room,” which was a section of inner wall he'd hollowed most of the insulation out of.  Yawning, the man pushed himself up out of the box, shielding his brown eyes with a pale hand.  He scooted to the edge, threw his legs over, and stood, a patterned rug shielding his feet from the cool concrete.  He grabbed a comb made from straw and ran it gingerly through his short black side part, only glancing in the mirror piece mounted next to his bed.  

“Beck,” He started at the shout, “you're gonna be late to the meet up and miss out on your trades!”

The man, Beck, let his shoulders sag. “Coming, Tallulah.”

He shuffled over to a drawer made of some sturdy fabric and picked out a fast outfit: a burgundy robe.  A bit informal, but he was up later than usual.  Plus, it's not like he would have to impress anyone.  Beck had been living in the community for two whole years at this point.  He could rock casual for one meeting.  He slid on some sandals made mostly of cardboard, grabbing his burlap bag from the floor.  Thank God he’d already packed it, otherwise he’d have to make the trip alone.  As it was, he pushed open the door, the back of a remote’s battery case, to Tallulah.

“You’re lucky I hate you the least.”

“I feel it.”

She was a stout woman – well, more so than Beck – with long silver hair that framed the delicate features of her face.  If one were so rude as to guess her age, they would be about a decade too low.  She aged like wine, as she often reminded those around her.  She wore a lengthy blue dress with flower print, perhaps literally from some drapes, with her own sandals with matching fabric going over top of the foot.  In her hands was a sort of bucket full of sweet smelling, small, white crystals.

“Sugar?” Beck seemed to look at it too long, as she flicked his forehead with a sigh. “Ow!”

“Don’t even think about it!”  She went off deeper into the building, exaggerated.

“Sheesh, you could have concussed me.” Beck rubbed his head with a smirk, latching his door shut before catching up.  The gray, tunneled halls were well trodden, even and flat like a road.  Because Beck was on the outskirts, it was less so until it intersected with another, more traveled path.

“Anything you’re especially looking for this week?” Beck asked, making room for some others passing them.

“You mean aside from ol’ Vernon’s face when everyone leaves his sweetener for mine?”  She adjusted her hold with a smug look. “I sure ain’t looking for what you drag in, Mr. Under the Fridge.”

“That was a year and a half ago!  How was I supposed to know why no one has ever brought ice to share?”  He fiddled with his bag strap. “Besides, it was still water!”

“Yeah, dirty water even the gardeners didn’t want to take!”  She stopped to cackle, careful to keep hold of the pot.  “I’ll tell you what, you may not be good for trades, but you are fun to watch!”

Beck rolled his eyes, still tugging the belt.

“Come on, you know I’m messing with you.”  She reached up and tousled his hair, perfectly restoring his bed head before he could duck away.

“Tally!”  He complained as he worked on mitigating the damage, but the dimples on his cheeks betrayed him. “I know, I just don’t remember the last time I really got congratulated beyond pity points.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Becky, you’ve done plenty.”  She said, then pointed her chin down the path. “The market’s just ahead, and you brought stuff, right?”  He nodded, not meeting her eye. “Exactly.  Even if you hadn't, and even if you never did and never will, you are a part of this community, Becky, and that makes you worthy.”  She squeezed his shoulder.  Then she punched it. “Now get set up fast because I ain’t setting this anywhere but a prime stall, pretty boy!”  She proceeded to run with surprising agility, leaving Beck in her trail.

The man sputtered, shook his head. “God help me if I ever do understand her, it means I’ve lost it, too.”  She may be right about him, but she was also right that he should get a move on lest he have to set up on the floor outside.

He entered a much deeper path, leading to the market site.  It was in the very center of the building, and it led to an immediate, metal opening.  Early birds sometimes had to open this mesh doorway themselves, but at this time, it was held open to welcome all.  He stepped through it alongside a few others, and entered a large metallic chamber with grated side walls and a ceiling, unlike the solid steel of the entrance wall and the one Beck was facing.  Before that wall, though, were dozens of people like him, but also in all different shapes and sizes. Most stood behind stalls with miscellaneous scraps and crafts, some sat behind their set ups, others just gave from their own hands as they passed.  Tallulah was already at a dark wood table making faces at salt and pepper man with his own container of white shards, making Beck’s smile widen.

After a bit of searching, he discovered an unclaimed counter.  He quickly made his way over, swinging his pack off onto the rickety birch planks. From the corner of his eye he saw others closing in, doubtless with their own goods to trade.  He can’t leave them empty handed!  He rummaged through his things before giving up and upturning it and letting everything spill straight onto the table. An abundance of soft white cloth, and another bag, this one sealed plastic, tumbled out.  As the visitors strolled closer, Beck ripped open the opaque plastic, revealing its contents: several beige ‘O’ shapes, smelling distinctly of processed oats and honey.

“Come take a look at what I’ve brought,” Beck called to passers by, “There’s plenty more where this came from!”

[maw-and-pawp]

BVF World Building

Been having Thoughts on how exactly the faery predator and prey dynamic works, and the specifics of Alma and Robin's species. Endure my nerdy infodump

Trooping Fairies - a classification in folklore, fae who live in groups or are encountered in groups

Solitary Fae - a classification in folklore, fae who live alone or are encountered alone

Windborne/Windborn - a predator faery species whose magic is tied to air, smoke, movement and communication. Like all faery preds, they rely on faery prey to replenish the connection to their magic. Solitary Fae

Alseadryad - a prey faery species, who live in groves and forrests. They generate magic, relying on the strength of their bonds to eachother and the plants under their protection to thrive. Trooping Fairies

Alseadryads are me smashing together the folklore of cluricauns, wood wives/moss maidens, and the nymph types aleids and dryads. The Alsea part is actually a reference to the first time and only time aleids were referenced in classical writing. Homer called them "alsea" in the Illiad, Odyssey, and the Homeric Hymn V To Aphrodite.

As a prey species in a half-sized/size difference setting, I needed to emphasize how small they are in comparison to the people nomming them. So I took that from the cluricauns and the moss maidens. Not nearly as tiny, but yeah. I mentioned earlier that Alseadryads rely on their connection to the plants Under Their Protection to thrive, and not the least of which is that it gives them the ability to reform after being devoured as long as their plant buddies are still kicking (dryad and aleid style). It's in their best interest to defend them in turn, and goddammit they will. Cluricauns defend their unwilling roommates and homes from malicious outsiders, and wood wives will chase you out of the forrest if you harm the saplings they care for, intentionally or not. So if you threaten them or theirs, an alseadryad will End You Personally.

Alma's tendency to poison the mortal preds she entices is considered a mature and righteous response to anyone raised the Fae Wilds. A fairy trap if I ever saw one lmao.

Several factors go into how the culture of willing vore came about. Firstly, a predator would have to go out of their way to fatal vore. Destroy a whole grove or stretch of forest, with not even one tiniest thing left alive. Tedious, and dangerous, because tending to the plant buddies is a communal effort. The whole neighborhood wants you Dead. Maybe the whole town.

So that's not an option. Still, taking a prey against their will, you're going to wake up with a pillow pressed against your face in the middle of the night if you don't take precautions. If you don't get stabbed in the first place.

There were two options presented to the ancient predators. One, hard vore. Two, creating a friendly and symbiotic relationship with their prey, fostering a system of mutual trust.

The majority tried hard vore first, specifically the avian class of windborne, but there were massive losses on both sides as a blood fued brewed.

So. Through natural selection and several peace treaties, the ones that chose the second option became the standard. Keep in mind that the ancient pred and prey conflict would've been going on at the same time as the mortal realms Neolithic Era equivalent. Thousands and thousands of years have passed. It's only in relatively recent times that nonconsensual vore and hard vore have become a major concern again with the rise of a class of Loan Shark Slave Masters. Bloodhounds don't get a choice, and neither do the food slaves. Every free person is kept under the thumb of the Masters through fear tactics, or enlist their services to remove unwanted persons. Bloodhounds are assassins, after all.

Windborne can look very similar to mortal preds at first glance, some classes more than others. Similarly human-looking, sharp teeth and sharp claws. If you've ever seen a pixie from Peter Pan then you understand what a baby one looks like. They hatch from eggs unlike many other sentient species. They all start out palm sized and insectoid, but they can do something truly amazing during a specific phase of their lives.

Between the ages of 0-5, if they lose their wings, they can regrow them. The wings come back based on the environment they're raised in. If they're being raised in a forest, it returns as the same insectoid wings, with some variation with butterflies mixed in. If they're being raised in a cave, bats. The mountains, birds. By water, the wings return as clouds.

The bat class is further separated by their diets. They eat more fruit, and only drink blood. A combination of flying foxes and vampire bats. Yes, this is a vampire fairy I will not apologize for putting vampires in with your fantasy vore. They're hot and interesting and I should say it /j

Considering that their magic touches on communication -sound has to travel through the air- windborns can hear things many miles away, can use their voices to entrance or entice, and several classes can temporarily turn into wind and ride it to where they'd like to go.

In light of the voice thing, I'm going to call the water windborn the siren class. Why the fuck not. Vampires exist, sirens exist, werewolves are gonna find a way to squirm in next I swear.

It's relevant to Robin on this last one - windborne claws are made to tear things apart, not grab. It's why they wear the gloves near constantly. Slices through flesh like butter, and it doesn't help that the avian class practically have talons.

Getting back to the wing thing. Pred parents usually wait until their child is around 3 years old before removing the wings of their kid. They have to be sure that they're not going to move in the interim, because they only get 3 chances at this, and only once can be traumatic. It's usually painless with modern technology, but knowing that someone is going to tear your limb off is probably not the best thing for feeling safe. But it's tradition, and windborne are solitary fae. They won't live with anyone as an adult. They need to be adapted to their environment and be self-sufficient.

Eveelution as fairy predator species

[razor-dragon]

The Hunt Part.4

Note: You asked for it, and after a very long break, I delivered. Hope you all enjoy. Part 4, “Team Bonding”.

Warnings: safe vore, death mention, implied death/ digestion (none really happen), sorta willing and unwilling prey, a bit of DNF, swearing, and I think that’s all. Tell me if I need to add more.

“So... when did you figure out you could do this?” Sapnap asked. George closed the chest he was looting and stared silently at Sapnap, trying not to crack a smile. Dream didn’t even hear the question, he was busy trying to gather an army of wolves. George turned back to the chest and continued to loot it. Sapnap and Bad looked at each other. They had been prying at George for about 30 minutes, but George wouldn’t speak to them.

After a moment, George closed the chest again. He gave the two some of the stuff he had taken, because they weren’t even worried about winning the game. They just wanted to know about what they had seen last time. “George, come on. We want to know,” Bad tried, yet again, George just stared silently before walking past the two and out of the house.

He felt the communicator buzz. George took it out and checked it. On his screen was a private message from Dream “Are they even making advancements? Or are they just worried about what they saw?” He blocked out the noise of the two rambling on and replied to Dream “No, I’m working by myself. I have a feeling that with me one time more than you, and their lack of work is going to make this game go sideways.” Only now does George realize his teammates are reading over his shoulder. “So you do know what we are talking about, you’re just avoiding it,” Sapnap pries. George cracks a small smile and continues on his way.

...

After what felt like forever, they had made it to the Nether. Dream had slacked a bit for George, to make it at least somewhat fair, because Sapnap and Bad wouldn’t give up till they got what they wanted. Finally, George feels his communicator buzz. He checks it to see another message from Dream and hides the screen from the other two “I wasn’t gunna tell you this, but I have the potion. I can give them what their asking for”. The thought lingered in his head a moment, then he slightly chuckled to himself and replied “Go for it”.

It was an evil plan to say the least, but if the two wouldn’t shut up, he would gladly sacrifice his items to show them exactly what they’ve been asking about. It didn’t take long for Dream to show up to the Nether. George pretended it was no big deal, and just gathered blaze rods. George heard the slight sound of a footstep and smirked a bit to himself. He’s not even fazed when he hears the surprised shrieks of his teammates as glass shatters on the ground.

George shuts his eyes tight as his body compresses down. He only opens them when he’s snatched up. He sees his masked boyfriend in front of him, and he feels his teammates pressed against his back. Sapnap and Bad’s breathing picks up, obviously panicked. George just stays still, almost amused by the situation at this point. Dream reaches up with his free hand and moves his mask to the side “You keep nagging about it, so you’re getting a front row seat,” and with that, Dream puts the hunters in his mouth.

“What the muffin?!” Bad yells out in a panic. Sapnap was quiet but banged on Dream’s teeth in an attempt to escape. Bad brought out a torch and let up the mouth. He sees Sapnap panicking at the front of the mouth, George laying comfortably on the tongue, and Bad personally was to the side but not too close to the teeth. Dream’s tongue shifted and licked at all of them. Sapnap and Bad didn’t like it at all, but George didn’t seem to mind.

After a bit, Sapnap and Bad were pinned to the side of the mouth while George remained in place. Gravity shifted, and George made to move to fight back as he was dragged down the throat. Then Sapnap was taken to the middle, the same thing happened but Sapnap fought, hard. Then Bad joined them. When Bad’s journey ended, he fell right on top of someone. “Get off,” Sapnap complained, and Bad scrambled off him.

“Nice of you two to join me,” said George sounding amused. “What the hell, George. Get us out of here!” Sapnap yelled towards the direction he heard his friend’s voice. A light sizzling sound caught both Sapnap and Bad’s attention, making their hearts skip a beat. “Only one way out,” George replied. You could practically hear him smirking. Then they heard the sound of someone taking damage, then their communicators vibrated. George died.

Both the hunters groaned then reached out and touched the acid. They were insta-killed, and their vision went dark. After a moment, they sat up on the bed where they had set their spawn point. Both hunters looked at each other, then at George who was leaning against the wall by the door looking proud of himself. Then he says into the communicator “Thanks for giving me my team back Dream”. “No problem,” Dream replies with a slight chuckle. George grabs the extra gear he had put in the chest and distributed it among the three of them, then left to go after Dream.

The two stunned hunters sat on the bed with the gear sitting in their inventory, neither of them being able to wrap their heads around what had just happened. George on the other hand was making his was towards Dream, according to his compass. George pulled out his communicator and opened his private messages with Dream “You owe me cuddles now”. The sound of light chuckling came over the communicator, then Dream typed back “You’re clingy, you know that? I love that about you though. Alright, cuddles it is.” And with that, the game stretched on.

[ironwoman359]

Completely agree on nagas being underutilized and having a ton of potential. Both as the whumpee and the whumper….

So now I have to know. Which do you prefer…(and maybe why…talk whumpy to me lol)

Naga whumper? Or naga whumpee…

cw: whump, captivity, dehumanization, possessiveness, abuse, torture, angst with little to no comfort

Oh, I am delighted you asked, friend...it's not like I just did a bunch of research on snake health for a bad things happen bingo fic* with a naga whumpee....it's not like doing so gave me MANY more ideas than I was able to fit into that one story...and its not like I have many thoughts on how nagas could fit into the traditional creature whump tropes (that I also was reading and rereading for 'research' while writing We Blankly Stare). This is going under a cut, because, like all my fics, it got longer than I meant it to. (also, to my regular followers who aren't into heavy whump, don't mind me as I go off on a tangent into a totally different fic community; you can skip this one if you need to; at the very least mind the content warnings <3)

SO, nagas. Beautiful creatures. Like centaurs, 'human' on the top and snake on the bottom. SO much lovely whump potential, either as whumpers or whumpees, but lets focus on the whumpee side for now. In no particular order...

Pet Whump:

Decorative collars set with jewels that compliment the pattern of their highly polished scales and delicate gold chains weaving their way along their body, equal parts jewelry and restraint. They are highly prized, beautiful things, and what is the point of owning one if not to show it off?

Inviting a crowd to come and watch them feed, demonstrating their dislocating jaws and sharp fangs as they toss rodents to them whole. Bonus angst points if raw meat actually makes your naga whumpee sick, or they can eat raw meat but cooked is better. Just because they look like a snake doesn't mean they eat like one

Is your naga whumpee poisonous? Have their owner remove their fangs or poison glands, leaving them utterly dependent on them for food (and utterly helpless if they do ever manage to escape)

Nagas bred in captivity, so the only life they've ever known is one of imprisonment. Do they even consider freedom as something attainable? Or do their owners have them convinced that they're better off like this?

Lab Whump:

Nagas that are actually human/snake hybrids created in laboratory experiments just to see if it was possible.

Nagas who are kept in order to produce venom, what the venom is for could be anything!

Nagas 'enhanced' with mind and/or body altering drugs or magic to serve in the military as the perfect warrior

Nags used for experiments and drug tests because they are seen as less than human

Torture Whump:

As is the case with most torture whump, the 'why' the whumpee is being tortured isn't really important here. Maybe they have information the whumper wants, maybe the whumper is trying to get revenge or hurt whumpee's team, maybe they're just cruel. This isn't really about the 'why' so much as it is the specific 'hows' that having a whumpee who is part snake provides.

Pulling/cutting off scales, pulling out or filing down fangs, clipping or tearing off claws (a creature whump classic)

Naga specific (this is more of a lizard thing than a snake thing, but nagas aren’t real, we make the rules here!) body part removal: cutting off the tail! It doesn’t matter that it grows back, it still hurts every time. (or maybe the tail doesn’t grow back, and the naga is left unable to ‘walk’ properly)

Rough iron collars around their neck attached to a ball and chain, bonus points if the length of the chain prevents them from rising to their usual 'standing' height.

Hang them from the ceiling with cuffs and chains by their tails; upside down, right-side up, however you choose!

My those snake bodies are long...I wonder how long they can stretch?

I have one word for you: thermoregulation. Reptiles cannot regulate their own body heat, they are dependent on their environment. This gives us a whole HOST of reptile-specific torture techniques:

temperature shock: dump them in freezing water or spray them with a high-pressure hose. Unpleasant for any kind of whumpee, for the naga whumpee this has the added bonus of being fatal very quickly if they aren't warmed up.

It's not good for a snake to be too HOT either, they need to cool their bodies off just as often as they need to warm them up (don't quote me precisely on that, snake tumblr). A whumper who keeps their naga under bright, hot lights nearly constantly so they're dehydrated, covered in blisters, and/or always feverish (can a naga get a fever? idk, up to you. snakes don't, but snakes don't have human torsos. we can be wishy washy with health issues)

So extreme heat and extreme cold are bad, but did you know that (while it's breed specific) most snakes lose its ability to thermoregulate at around 70 degrees Fahrenheit? When their body temperature drops below this (but not so low that we're in hypothermia territory), their movements are sluggish, they cannot/will not eat, and it is very easy for them to develop infections, scale rot, all sorts of problems. Does the whumper keep them in low temperatures to make them weak and pliable in their hands, easy to control? Does the whumper use these conditions as a punishment for bad behavior? Or give reprieve from them as a reward for good behavior? There’s just SO much that can be done with temperature alone! It’s one of the things that sets nagas apart from other creatures and THAT is one of the most criminally underused aspects, in my oh so humble opinion!

Other Fun Concepts:

Nagas with their tails trapped under rubble, unable to pull themselves free.

Nagas kept in a cage that's far too small for them, their body wrapped up so tightly they can barely move.

Did you know that when a snake's body temperature is too low, it can't digest its food? And that if it does eat something and then doesn't have the energy to digest it properly, it will either instinctually regurgitate that food back up or run the risk of the food literally rotting in its stomach? Take this knowledge into literally any of the pet or torture scenarios and you have some A+ snake specific whump

Tiny nagas! Like the western hognose snake or the ringneck snake, these little guys can fit in the palm of your hand! Apply literally any previously listed scenario to your tiny naga for instant fantasy g/t whump! also vore...that's not my scene but it was one of like, two things i found while looking for naga whump on tumblr earlier, so I feel obligated to mention it.

Giant nagas, YOU can fit in THEIR hands. Does that make them the whumper, or still the whumpee? You decide!

Water nagas! combine mer whump with naga whump and you’ve got a water snake to hurt!

Nagas with scale rot, respiratory infections, kinks in their spine, or other snake health issues, either from mistreatment from a whumper or natural causes.

As you can tell, I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately, lol. I hope you enjoyed, and if anyone writes anything based off these, I’d love to see it! Also, HAVE I been considering making a whump sideblog for awhile? yes. Did writing this post convince me to finally do it? Also yes. So I'll be over at @ironwhumper359 if you'd like to talk more whump with me, I’d be delighted to have you :)

*if you would like to read said bad things happen bingo fic, know that while it is labelled Sanders Sides, because that’s the fandom I mainly write it, the first chapter only has one character from the series in it and is honestly much more of an original whump piece than it is a fanfic. The second and third chapters are more fandom specific (though you’re of course still welcome to read them even if you’re not a sanders sides fan), but that first one can be read as stand-alone whump!

[letaintedserpentine]

ZADR WEEK: Awkward Beginnings

“Irkens do not take… partnerships lightly, Dib-stink.” “A witness.” Gaz repeated, although devoid of emotion. “You’re asking me to witness in your alien wedding.”

i took the prompt awkwardness and turned it into some sort of marriage au because why not. yo guys i took self-indulgent to the max! WARNINGS FOR MEGA FLUFF!!!! thanks to @poor-ciceros-voring-again for hosting, much love :D full fic below: or in AO3

Fatal Attraction

--------

‘We no longer need any of your incessant reports, Zim. Now be a good Irken and face your exile with dignity.’

The words flashed on the monitor, stark and unyielding, whenever he tried to communicate with the Massive.

It had been for several Earth years, and some point, he’d stopped bothering.

It was clear that the armada no longer needed him.

No need for Zim to bring Earth to its knees and to the glory of Irk.

There was barely any more reason to keep fighting, and yet-

He wouldn’t give up his rivalry with Dib for anything.

So he fought.

Concocted little schemes. When they were once that aimed to take control of the planet, they shifted- aiming to keep Dib’s attention on him, petty pranks just to get the human cursing at him, to once again try to get their blood pumping, adrenaline pushing at them to bring the other down.

When their fights began to turn to more sparring than maiming, and banter began to feel more playful than hurtful, it should’ve been unsurprising for Dib to ask, “Are we even still… enemies?”

And yet Zim still found himself reeling, never once had asked it to himself. But that couldn’t be right.

If they weren’t enemies anymore, what were they?

Zim feared not only the answer, but the potential end to their charade- Dib has been his rival for so long that he couldn’t imagine being without him anymore.

Maybe sensing his reluctance to answer, Dib had been quick to follow his inquiry. “Do you think you could ever just trust me, Zim?”

Zim physically recoiled. Irkens do not trust, not when it was a show of weakness. “You speak of incompetence, Dib-thing.”

Dib gave him a look that he didn’t understand, but whatever it was, he didn’t like it. “You haven’t been an enemy for a long time, Zim. Do you think you can see me as more than that? Something else?”

Zim lightly clutched the ends of his uniform, suddenly hating how he never stopped using it. His voice came up too quiet. “Like what?”

“Maybe someone you think you’d like to see everyday, someone you could depend on, in certain circumstances?”

Zim blinked, and perked up. That was more like loyalty, wasn’t it? Irkens understood that.

“Partners?” Zim tried out the word on his tongue. An old Irken legend sprung to mind, although… that couldn’t be what Dib was asking. He turned to Dib with almost a sneer in his eyes. “Irkens do not take… partnerships lightly, Dib-stink.”

Dib ignored the small pang in his chest that reminded him that they hadn’t had a real argument in a long time. “How different could it be?” He tossed his hand. “Enlighten me.”

The concept itself thrilled Zim. Allegiance to anyone other than the Tallests were once considered an insult, and now, something far worse.

“We value loyalty above all else.”

He wasn’t ashamed to still have Irk as a part of him.

It was who Zim was. “We have a ceremony for it, for you would be swearing to put my life before yours.” He faced Dib as he said this, watching any trace of rejection. “And I will do the same.”

Zim straightened, and his eyes shone brilliantly. “We would serve anyone as second only, never first.” Which was why one of the old Tallest had banned it, criminalizing the act as a betrayal to the empire. And Zim, who had no longer had any love for the empire, was more than appealed to it.

But it still stood that Dib wouldn���t be one to understand the significance of it.

Dib had been quiet all through it all. After it was clear that Zim wasn’t to expound further, Dib asked, “Do you think it could be like that with us?”

Zim raised an eyelid, then gave no response- keeping his thoughts to himself.

It was only after an ironic turn of events- where Zim had to team up with Dib to drive off an aspiring alien invader- Earth was Zim’s planet, after all, that Zim thought to raise up the question once again.

The battle, the confrontations, even the minuscule threat of their mutual enemy, all faded out of Zim’s mind as he stared at Dib.

Dib stood there in all his glory, basking in their victory, the rays of the rescinding sun all but made his eyes a shade of gold. Tall and dependable, Zim could hardly explain his sudden appreciation, the taste of the win sweeter when shared between them, and how all their experience blended in his mind until he began to hope for a future of more of this, more of them-

Zim began to think that maybe a partnership with Dib wasn’t the worst idea.

“You’re considering it?” Dib said, skeptical to the very end, even when happiness glowed around him like a furnace.

“No,” Zim said. “I’ve already decided. The answer is yes, Dib.” And while feigning impassiveness, Zim felt like he choked on his own tongue, his chest warming all the same as Dib gave him one of those grins- the ones that said, we’ve won.

Dib cleared his throat, suppressing any more eagerness, “How do we do this?”

“A witness.” Gaz repeated, although devoid of emotion. “You’re asking me to witness in your alien wedding.”

“Partnership,” Dib emphasized, for what seemed like the third time. His ears brightened in the tell-tale signs of a blush, although he would never admit how Gaz’s words muddled up some suppressed emotions in him. “It just means that as an Irken he would be allowing himself to maybe sorta trust me, even he would tell me not to use those words exactly. Depend on me, instead of just him.”

“Uh huh,” Gaz tapped her nails on her handheld console. “And if this means you could never trust and depend on anyone else?”

Dib frowned. “I don’t think that’s what it means?” He bit the inside of his cheek for a moment. “I don’t think there’s anything that would make him give up Gir, so that’s not an issue. I think it’s more of… allowing himself to allow me to become a part of his life, officially. To be at his side.”

“In sickness and health?”

“Ha, ha. Laugh it up.” Dib grumbled.

“Who says I’m joking?” She turned over the facts in her head, crossing her arms. “This just seems… fishy. Dib, even if there’s no trick here, do you think you’re prepared for it? It seems awfully… intimate.” Her normally stilted voice had a hint of concern there.

Dib forced a cough. “Gaz, it’s just-”

“Deny anything again and I will break your toes.”

Dib shut up.

“How?” She asked.

“What?”

She looked at him as if he was being deliberately dense. “How did you guys went from fighting to doing your lame partnership?”

Dib knew that despite her tough exterior, she was genuinely curious. “He… understands me in the level that other people can’t.”

She hummed, gesturing at him to proceed.

“I don’t think I’ve ever connected to anyone else. And I just wanted for him to know that, alright? He’s the one that suggested the Irken thing. I just thought… if that’s what it took to have Zim… really, truly, at my side… No hesitation there. I’ll do it.” He proclaimed, his confidence pushing through the small wobble of his voice in the middle.

“Maybe I could lead him to a different path, or we could take off Earth together.” He couldn’t help but fantasize, a tad star-struck at the many possibilities. “We could be good together.”

“And that’s all you want.” Gaz noted. “Companionship. That’s all. ” Dib could hear the question there. “You’ll go into this binding thing and make Zim think you guys are now fully destined to only be partners.”

Dib sighed, as his resolve began to blur. “Gaz, I only asked if you would-”

She cut him off with a glare. “I’m not going to stop you or tell you it’s a horrible idea. But this is a big deal for him too, right? You two should suck it up, talk it out, and go into it with all the same intentions.”

Dib’s tongue felt dry in his mouth. “He’d been pretty clear what he wanted.”

“Have you?”

Dib did not reply.

“Think about everything he told you about this binding thing, Dib. Then decide.” She pressed open on her console, no longer looking at him. “Then I’ll tell you if I’ll bear witness, or something.”

An unfamiliar soundtrack began to play as Gaz turned her back to him, but Dib had his mind already considering her tip.

The summer air was warm in their faces, with the rays of the setting sun giving the meadow a golden glow. Fireflies skittered all around them, aiming to outdo the stars once they show.

Dib kept fidgeting in his suit.

Gaz wasn’t blind. “You got me dressed up for this, you better not have second thoughts,” she mumbled, her own way of reassurance.

Her normally spiked hair was smoothed out, looking a bit softer, but not in the least hiding her intensity. Dib had no doubt she would not be opposed to throwing down a gauntlet when provoked, even when wearing a dress.

Dib shook his head at her concern, but she needn’t have worried.

The second that he saw Zim approach them, he knew he couldn’t turn back- not now, not ever.

A floor length dress replaced Zim’s usual uniform, with a gradient of his usual red darkening to black at the bottom. Black flowing sleeves gave Zim a sense of fragility, his arms foregoing the gloves entirely.

When those pink beady eyes landed on his, Dib couldn’t look away, his breath almost leaving him.

Zim looked flustered, a picture of hope in his eyes, tinged with some hesitance as if he couldn’t believe what was happening.

For a while, they were quite content to just watch each other, as if nothing else mattered but the two of them- until Gaz faked a cough.

Zim blinked, and he turned away. “Gaz,” he greeted her, “Would you be the witness to our union?”

“Why else would I be here?”

“Formality,” Zim replied, just as Dib mildly jabbed her sister at the side.

She shot him a glare. “Yeah, sure, I’m witnessing.”

“Excellent!” Zim shouted in his usual bravado, although with the undertone of nerves. The two focused on the alien again.

“Dib-human.” Zim began without any malice, “I have seen you at your lowest. I have triumphed against you and with you, and I concede you are taller in height. Will you accept me?”

“I take you as mine.” Dib replied, almost fumbling at his cue. He knew the words but… it felt different, when it was finally time for him to hear it.

It was his turn, now. “Zim,” Dib began, reciting the words by memory if not by heart, “I have seen you at your lowest. I have triumphed with you and against you, and I recognize that you are beneath my height.” The last part felt unnecessary to him but clearly meant something to Zim, since the Irken all but straightened up, fully accepting himself even if society deems him worth not. “Will you accept me?”

“I take you as mine.” Zim replied.

If Dib were asked at that moment if magic existed, he would’ve said yes. No investigations needed. Magic was there in the way that the world seemed to be a lot brighter, with the fireflies that danced around them, and in the connection that started from Dib’s heart, to whatever Zim had that’s equivalent.

“Oh, is it my cue?” Gaz droned, but Dib could’ve sworn that there was some underlying affection there.

Gaz brought out an ornate knife, and lightly pricked the two’s palms, lightly grumbling at the danger and idiocy of tradition picking the palm to draw blood.

A dark red bloomed in Dib’s, and light pink in Zim’s.

She urged the two to get on with it. “May this not be the last time you will bleed for each other,” Gaz didn’t feel the need to hide the fact that she was reading it on paper, “And may your bond last longer than you enemies. May one not fall in battle without the other, for that is the greatest pain of all.”

Zim took initiative and clutched Dib’s bloody palm with his own, taking a few seconds before being able to once again meet his eyes. “I pledge myself to you, Dib.”

Dib tightened his grip. “I pledge myself to you, Zim.”

Zim couldn’t disguise the joy in his eyes.

“It is done.” Gaz interrupted them by pulling on a small party popper, then handing off a party horn to Gir. The robot took to it immediately, blowing unrestrained loud notes. Gaz reached for a glass of wine.

Zim laughed, but it wasn’t a cackle.

His genuine laugh was something that Dib would sear into memory, but he wasn’t done yet. “Zim?”

Dib’s voice easily captured Zim’s attention, who turned to him with a smile. “Yes, Dib-mine?”

“I have something to ask.” Dib, carefully, but knowingly, lowered himself into one knee. He looked up to Zim.

In one record breaking swoop, Dib found out exactly how Zim’s emotions could turn 180 in an instant.

Zim kicked him as much as he was able to, in that dress. Dib didn’t know why he was annoyed, but knew it was cultural differences. Anyone else would’ve figured out what he was trying to do.

“Hear me out!” Dib said, affixing himself slowly into the same position, watching Zim’s movements.

“You aren’t to bow to me! We are partners, I expect you to not act like a service drone, because we aren’t!”

Gaz leaned towards Gir, and faux whispered, fully knowing she would be heard. “Not the most awkward wedding I’ve seen.”

The two ignored her, still locked in their standstill.

“Zim, cultural misunderstanding.” Dib pleaded with his eyes. “Listen to me, alright?”

And while Zim gave no affirmative and had his eyes in a glare, he did not move any more threateningly.

“I don’t think I would ever meet anyone else as driven as you are. You, who make me feel like… I’m enough, that I matter, and…” The redness has tinted his ears, “Zim, you could destroy me in every single way and I’d be okay with it.”

“I trust you more than you could ever know, and I… I lo…” Dib swallowed, and brought out a ring. “Will you become more than my partner?”

Zim took a sharp inhale, not even aware when he’d begun to hold his breath. “And that would entail…?”

“It means I could do this.” Dib lightly kissed the knuckles of Zim’s hand, to which he caught his breath. “It means… I would choose you above anyone else,” he said, mirroring what Zim had once told him about Irken partnerships. “Put my life before yours. It means I choose to never leave you, in sickness and health. But most importantly, it means that you’ll allow yourself to love me as I do you. And I do. I really do. I love you, Zim.”

There was another reason Irk had partnerships banned, one that defied all logic and rendered all other emotions underneath it, and Zim never really thought he would be able to have it.

“Zim, do you accept?” Dib didn’t think he could be more nervous in his life.

A smile graced Zim’s lips. “I do.”

[nommy-thoughts]

Danger Noodles Chapter 3 The Part With the Vore

Wordcount: 2 K

Summary: Giant nagas, unlike micro nagas, have gastric brooding. In other words, Protective Baby Noms are a thing!

Note: This story follows two timelines, one with vore and one without. This chapter belongs to the vore timeline and is almost entirely different from the non-vore version.

Cowritten with @that-prey-lounge​!

[Danger Noodles Masterpost]

~~~~~

Roman awoke, heart pounding in his chest. Remus was also awake, he could feel the tense grab on his bicep.

“Wolves.”

“They won’t come in here.”

“They might come for the butchered carcass. We didn’t eat it and it smells of blood. The bears haven’t just put the pressure on us.”

Roman bit his lip, glancing down at the three humans snuggled up in their nest of coils. “We can’t let our humans get eaten. Not by anybody. They’re so small and defenseless.”

Remus nodded. “Like babies,” he agreed.

Roman suddenly perked up. “Like babies! Remus, we can protect them like Mom used to protect us!” He looked at the humans again, mentally comparing them to the infants he and Remus had once been. Adult humans were bigger, and the twins weren’t yet fully grown. Roman frowned in realization. “I don’t think we can fit more than one apiece.”

Remus considered it. “Virgil seems most capable of protecting himself.”

The twins shared a look, and Roman picked up Patton in his hands. The little human squirmed slightly, but Roman managed to shush him and lull him back to sleep.

Remus untangled Logan from Virgil and softly rubbed the human’s hair until he was fully asleep again.

“Down the hatch, for protection.” Remus looked over at Roman, who nodded.

Roman opened up, unhinging his jaw. He flexed a muscle in his throat, opening up the right passageway and sealing off the wrong one. It absolutely wouldn’t do to get this wrong. Gently, he eased Patton’s legs down his gullet.

Remus followed his example, easing Logan down the right passageway so he’d be safe in Remus’s pouch.

The twins clicked their jaw shut in near unison, hands supporting their middles as the humans slipped down into them. Unlike their dinners from earlier, the humans stopped at the base of their human-like torsos. Rather than a stomach, they were inside the special brooding pouch every naga had to carry their young in until they were strong enough to handle themselves in the outside world. The twins had never used theirs before, but this felt very right.

Slowly, the twins sank back into their nest, curling up belly-to-belly so that their gently swollen middles touched. Roman pulled Virgil over, draping him across their bellies, and without needing even a word to communicate the idea, the twins wrapped each other and the humans in a protective hug, then coiled their tails all round so that the three little ones were protected in the very center of the ball. Their arms kept the heavy mass of scales suspended over Virgil so he couldn’t be crushed by accident.

“Remember curling up together in Momma’s pouch?” Remus said softly, already drifting off again.

“Mm-hm,” Roman murmured. “That was good. Never felt safer. I couldn’t tell where my tail ended and yours began, most of the time.”

Neither naga considered, as they fell back asleep, that humans didn’t have childhood experience with being protected inside their parents, and wouldn’t immediately realize that that was what this was.

The twins were awoken by the sound of screaming.

The rising sun softly filled the usually dark cave with gentle morning light. Virgil filled it with panicked screams, frantically squirming between them. The two nagas moved apart.

Virgil scrambled away from them and over to the three humans’ bags. After a moment’s fumbling, he yanked his long knife free, brandishing it in the direction of the two nagas, who were clutching their softly bulging bellies.

“What is it?” Roman softly rubbed his middle, feeling Patton wake up inside. “Where’s the danger?”

Virgil spluttered and pointed his knife at the naga. “Spit them up! Right now!”

“Huh?”

“You’re both monsters! You murdered my friends!”

Remus blinked, and then looked at Roman. “Humans don’t have pouches. Roman, humans don’t have pouches.”

“He thinks we killed them.” Roman covered his mouth in horror.

“Of course I think you killed them!” Virgil snarled, clearly enraged. “What happened to Patton being ‘too cute to eat,’ huh? Couldn’t you have at least spared him?” His voice was tight, on the verge of tears. “Couldn’t you have eaten me instead?”

“We did spare them.” Roman put his hands on his abdomen. “They’re safe—”

“Try that with someone else.” The knife pointed at them trembled. “Spit them out, or I’m going to gut you!”

Remus glanced at Roman, making a small hand gesture. Roman nodded, and they pounced.

Roman pinned Virgil on his back. Remus disarmed him and tossed the knife away.

“Listen to us, your friends are safe. We’ve just tucked them away in our pouches.” Roman felt Patton squirm a little more.

“Why should I trust you? You ate my friends!”

Remus scoffed. “It was barely eating. We just put them in our mouths and swallowed. They are not in a stomach, and they’re fine.”

Logan was moving too from the noises surrounding him and the quick movement. Patton was the first to speak, however. “Roman? Is that you?”

Virgil cried out, and Roman felt Patton squirm a little more vigorously.

“Virgil! Where are you? R-Roman! What happened?”

“Wolves got too close for comfort in the night. Remus and I swallowed a couple of you up to keep you safe.” Roman gently patted his belly. “We, uh, forgot humans don’t have baby pouches to do this kinda thing with.”

“Ah,” Logan said, oddly calm, his voice muffled by the layers of Remus’s flesh between them. “That would explain the unusual surroundings.”

“Logan!” Virgil shouted. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Logan said. “This is definitely not a stomach. It’s quite dry, and there’s only one opening, up at the top.” He was quiet for a moment. “Did you say this is a baby pouch?”

“Yeah.” Roman gently rubbed his belly with the heel of his hand. “Naga parents keep their babies in here for the first couple years. Most of my earliest memories of my Momma are her pouch.”

“Fascinating.” Logan sounded like he was itching for his notebook. “That would explain why your food slid past your bellies right to your tails yesterday. I was under the impression that all nagas had two stomachs, but apparently not.”

Roman blinked. “Who told you that?”

Patton perked up. “Oh! Our mouser naga, Dee-Dee!”

“Can— can you let them out?” Virgil interrupted. “This is unnerving.”

Remus nodded and Roman slithered back, letting Virgil up. After a second, the twins started to make a noise not unlike a cat with a hairball, and then Patton and Logan both tumbled to the floor. Luckily, the nagas had been bent over, so it wasn’t a long drop. They picked themselves up.

“Impressive,” Logan said, dusting himself off. “Not a single tear on my clothes, despite your sharp, backward-pointed teeth.”

Virgil grabbed his friends, squeezing them in a tight hug.

After a second, Remus tapped Patton on the shoulder. “Don’t mean to interrupt, but, uhm, Dee-Dee? A mouser naga?”

Patton nodded. “I’m allergic to cats,” he said, like that explained everything. Roman supposed that to a human, it might’ve.

“What is a mouser naga?” he asked.

“They’re nagas, like you guys, but really little.” Patton estimated about two or so feet with his hands. “Dee-Dee is only about this big. He’s just a little fella, and he used to be even smaller, but he’s been growing. I bought him a while ago because we had a real bad mouse problem, but he’s part of the family now.”

The twins blinked owlishly at each other. “We didn’t know those things existed.”

“What did you think I was referring to when I mentioned smaller nagas last night?” Logan asked.

Roman shrugged. “Juveniles?”

Remus estimated the size with his own hands and shook his head. “I don’t think we were ever that small before.”

Logan shrugged. “Humans have been basing assumptions of your species off the observation of the micro naga, since it’s dangerous to study you directly. Obviously that resulted in some errors.”

Roman tsked loudly, shaking his head. “Looks like Remus and I might need to let you poke at us more, if you don’t even know about the baby pouch.”

Logan practically lit up. “Would you really?” he asked eagerly.

“Of course, if it’ll help your understanding.”

Virgil sighed quietly. “And the nerd is going to bounce off the walls.”

Logan nodded, grinning broadly. “This is splendid!” he said. “I can get my equipment, and conduct a proper study. I may be the first person to ever have this opportunity.”

Remus scooped Patton up, hugging him softly. “All because this little dumpling won us over.”

Logan paused. “That’s right. Patton, I owe you. Thank you.”

Virgil softly touched Logan on the arm. “I don’t want to be That Guy, but we really have to go. We were supposed to be home yesterday, and we’ve got things to do.”

Roman pouted. “Do you have to?” he asked. “Don’t humans like eating food in the mornings before they do things?”

“We do,” Patton agreed. He gave Virgil a pleading look. “I’m hungry, Vee.”

Virgil sighed. “All we have is room-temperature venison, and our snacks, which we can eat on the go.”

Remus chewed his lip, resisting the urge to just coil around the three of them and never let go. “We’ll escort you to the edge of our territory.”

Logan nodded stiffly. “Sounds reasonable, considering someone got us lost.” He side-eyed Virgil, who at least had the grace to look a little embarrassed.

“So are you not gonna eat the rest of the cook deer?” Remus asked, edging over toward it.

“I’m thinking no,” Virgil said.

Remus grinned and swept the meat up into his hands. Roman hissed slightly as it vanished into Remus’s stomach.

“You glutton!”

“You snooze, you lose.” Remus shrugged, licking his lips.

“You didn’t even savor it!”

As the twins devolved into arguing, the three humans collected their gear, making sure everything was in place.

Virgil retrieved his knife from where it had been flung. Inspecting it, he frowned. It had a ding on the blade from striking against a rock. That would take some effort to smooth out. He was about to head back to the others when he noticed something that gave him pause. Behind one of the larger rocks was a pile of bones of all sorts. Some of them were definitely inhuman— for example, a curved rib bone nearly as long as Virgil was tall— and he couldn’t spot any obviously human bones in the pile, but even so, a chill ran down his spine.

’That was nearly us.’ Virgil swallowed nervously as he returned to the others. ‘Thank goodness Patton can melt even the iciest of hearts.’

They were on their way out of the woods soon, and the twins’ playful banter almost made Virgil forget about the bones. Almost.

It didn’t take long before the nagas complained that humans walked too slowly. That was all the warning they got before they were scooped up into huge arms. Roman lifted Logan, while Remus picked Virgil and Patton up together, squishing them into each other in his hands for a few moments.

“Remus,” Roman scolded lightly. Holding Logan against his chest with one hand, he used the other to help his brother reposition. Remus ended up with a human in each arm, half leaning on his chest.

“Comfy?”

Virgil squirmed a bit, more uncomfortable with the situation than with his position. “It’s fine.”

Traveling like that, they covered ground much more quickly. Soon, they reached the edge of the twins’ territory. Although they stopped, the nagas looked very hesitant to set their new friends down. Patton patted Remus’s arm. “It’s okay,” he said. “We’ll come back to visit.”

“Promise me?”

Patton nodded. “I promise.”

Logan brushed himself off. “Of course we’ll return eventually. I’ve been promised cooperation in clearing up biological misconceptions.”

Virgil tightly hugged himself while everyone said their goodbyes. When it came his turn, he gently patted Roman on the forearm. “Thanks… for not eating us.”

“You’re welcome.” Roman softly ruffled his hair. “Take care of yourselves.”

The three humans continued forward, with more than a few backwards glances at their large new friends.

~~~~~

Chapter 4: Home Again

[vore-scientist]

The Panicking Prince

(A humorous little adventure containing Lots of GT interaction and some safe, soft, M/f GT vore, platonic and willing)

A Tale of the Mystic Woods

Full title: In Which Prince Yonatan Does The Books

Summary: Prince Yonatan discovers some information that about the fate of the kingdom. This causes him to panic so he runs off to find his sister the Princess Sophia and the Giant Wizard, Yonah. 

Warnings: No real warnings. I will mention that Yonatan is 16 years old but he’s NOT the one eaten (It’s Sophia as usual). There’s an almost minor vorish moment involving him, but it’s silly. It’s all silly actually.  

---

In a well lit room in a high tower of the Castle in the City of Luster in the Kingdom of Orr sat a prince. A prince surrounded by scrolls, notebooks, files, boxes, and cabinets. This prince was almost 17 years old, which was unusually young to be handling the paperwork of an entire kingdom. Especially since the Kingdom Of Orr was not one kingdom, it was two, as many centuries ago the King of Orr was picked to be the King of the Mystic Woods. And ever since then the new Mystic King maintained the claim on Orr. 

But Prince Yonatan was not a usual prince. He had been cursed at 8 days old, at his naming day, by the Ivory and Bronze Fairy Courts. They imbued him with intelligence and wisdom beyond his years. On the Prince’s 9th day of life he spoke in full sentences, the first of which he used to critique his feeding/sleeping schedule. And on the 10th day had set up a system that had him feeding, sleeping, and relieving himself on an extremely exact timetable. And it only got worse from there. 

With a mind hungry for knowledge but so full of new thoughts, the poor prince was constantly in need of diversions. Play with his siblings could occupy his body well enough; wrestling, tag, hide and seek, sword fighting, and climbing through areas of the castle they had no business being in. But as conversationalists went, they weren’t engaging. He chatted with Royal Philosophers until he ran circles around their theories, and his father’s political advisors until he could contribute to their machinations, which he often put a stop to before some sort of scandal got out. 

No advisor had successfully lead a power grab let alone a coup. but every time one got close it was a whole do-to. Now such things only happened Once in a while, when Yonatanlet one slip his notice, just to keep things lively.  

A few years ago he’d taken up a new hobby. 

The bookkeeping of Two Kingdoms was a daily task, one that Yonatan found extremely relaxing. With constant fresh information, it never got boring, and he could concentrate entirely on it. No more of his mind wandering and making him worry. 

See. Yonatan has anxiety. Bad anxiety. For all his wisdom, his brain was constantly racing and all those thoughts were so overwhelming, especially ones about the probabilities of disasters, or outcomes of potential wars, or that he was a terrible brother because of his curse, or that the royal advisors secretly resented him and were planning his assassination, or maybe or that his brain might one day just pop, or perhaps... 

You get the point. 

When he did the kingdom’s books, he had no such thoughts. At least, not as many. 

You might think such work is boring, and yes, stuff like guild dues and which portions could be taxed, or reviewing the fluctuations in prices of basic goods and preparing to subsidize things for winter are certainly borning. But tracking the latest dragon sightings and the current standings of registered and known unregistered heroes and villains was exciting. 

Managing the FairyTales was an important job that Yonatan took great pleasure in. Reviewing and updating the current status of prophecies and their subjects, with calendars of known and calculated trigger dates and references of contingency plans for both disasters and celebrations.  Following Long Lost (or recently lost) Heirs and their last known locations, with information on anyone noteworthy or particularly unnoteworthy having passed through them. Keeping logs of treasure hauls taken in and given out by heroes and villains, making note of any (interesting) magic items. The latest word on magic items of secret but great renown, and any rumors involving their being lost, stolen, or found. 

And all of this and more! Organized so that the right information was disseminated to the right people. Information becoming instruction, and instruction becoming action. Many actions taken simply to influence others, in large and small ways. For example: Pushing people to influence some tale. Such people might never know they were part of a tale. They might have just been spurred on to tell a potential hero a small piece of information, or offer them a meal or place to stay for a night. 

All this made sure that FairyTales continued to be Told. 

You get the idea. 

But the prince was also trusted with monitoring some of the more sensitive information. Of note in this instance: Anomalous magical spikes in the Mystic Woods. 

The Mystic Woods was always shifting, but it was crucial to note where things were when interesting events occurred. Even if the event was merely a surge of forest magic, detected by a ranger or King Ben himself. Most of the time it was just a flare up as the mysterious currents of magic swirled around and collected. Or King Ben bit his tongue and for some reason the Mystic Woods reacted. 

Lately, a lot of the flares had been accompanied by little bits of good fortune! A tree being cured by disease, a swarm of insects cleared away, a rare magical berry bush bearing fruit for the first time in decades. Or were in locations inhabited by many of the mystic woods communities. Villages of Elves or colonies of gnomes, all who benefited in small ways from the flares. What nice things! Knowing good things were happening made Yonatan feel very good! 

Unfortunately, that mood was soon to be soured. As he reviewed the flares his super-fairy-magic-enhanced brain made some connections. 

What had he been reading yesterday? 

Though he wasn’t technically permitted to read the reports between King Ben and the Royal Wizard, and Evil Giant, known as Yonah HaEsh. Yonatan liked to know how his favorite sister was doing.

Even if Yonatan had trouble connecting to his siblings, he still loved them, and they loved him. But Sophia… She was special to him. Her carefree attitude taught him to act without thinking; With his brains and her wildness, they had been quite the pair of troublemakers. There was rarely a dull moment with her. And unlike his other siblings, who brushed off his anxiety attacks as just Yonatan’s Magic Brain Weirdness, she would help him. It was incredible how someone so unfettered could also be so steady.

Many a night he had run to her in tears over some fear, like how according to some calculations, the moon would crash down in a few hundred years, wiping out all life. She never got mad at him for waking her up, and she’d hold him as he cried himself to sleep. 

Adjusting to her being officially “kidnapped” by an evil wizard had been difficult to say the least. That was almost 2 years ago. It made him feel better to know she was thriving under the care of her captor. Even if he missed her dearly. 

Back to the reports. 

There had been several odd happenstances while she was on patrols with Yonah. Patrols were something Yonah had been doing long before Sophia had been assigned to him, and it was mainly the half-giant’s way of not going stir crazy. Explorations out in the forest; limited by the 5km range that Yonah could go from his tower, usually just to see what was around, but also to hunt and collect spell components. Yonah had at some point noted that when he went out with Sophia, they would encounter more interesting places and situations. 

A few of those places had surges of magic, mostly after, but sometimes before, Sophia encountered them. Many of these places had been having some sort of trouble, and it was clear from the ShiftLogs, that they shifted within a few hours of Sophia and Yonah’s patrol. 

Yonah even noted, almost a year and a half ago, that the forest was easier to navigate when he took Sophia with him. 

Almost as if… 

Yonatan’s genius brain had made a connection but it was not letting him actually think it. But he knew what it was. And his heart started to pound loudly and painfully against his ribs. Sweat beaded on his brow and his hands felt clammy. 

Oh no. 

No no no no no. 

Now he was panicking. Panic was bad! It hurt! No! He hated this! 

He could be wrong. Easily! This kind of thing never happened. It was probably just coincidence. But no such thing existed in their world That had been proven long ago by some amazing sages. There was nothing he could do about it if he was right. He had to calm down. Once he was calm he could… right. 

Nothing doing. 

Just panic. 

---

It had been a long while since he’d had an anxiety attack like this one. He couldn’t do any more work, instead he ran manic around the hallways until dinner time, where he ate barely anything and what he did he threw up shortly after. And sleep? Out of the question.

Unless. 

What time even was it? About an hour till midnight? Didn’t really matter. Still in his pajamas Prince Yonatan used one of the secret passages to get out of the castle. One that led to the stables so he could take his horse. Otherwise the trip would take a day. 

Still, he only rode Soos up to the Mystic Woods. Soos’ full name was Stubborn Old Ornery Stallion. Even though Soos wasn’t more than a few years old. Yonatan liked his horse and hoped he would live long enough to live up to name. 

It was a smooth 3 hour ride out of the city and past the farms and rolling hills. There wasn’t a defined border but once the trees got decently thick yet still lacked magic, he had Soos stop. Soos whinnied and stomped his hooves a bit annoyed. 

“Just checking,” Yonatan said, “You don’t have to come with me.” Even for a son of the Mystic King, the Woods was incredibly foreboding, especially at night. 

Soos’ ears flicked as if to say ‘Excuse me? I was bred for use in this forest.’

“Alrighty then!”

Without another thought (which was a considerable feat), Yonatan spurred Soos back into a trot, and into the woods. There was no point in picking a direction, he had to trust the forest. 

-

Back in the City of Luster there was panic. No one knew where Prince Yonatan was. Ben extended his awareness but sensed nothing. He wasn’t unduly worried since Yonatan was too clever for his own good, but that didn’t mean there was no reason for concern. And so he woke up the entire city, having his guards spread out to ask anyone if they’d seen or spoken to the prince. 

-

That will have to be dealt with later, as by now Yonatan had made it to his destination. 

No surprises here: it’s the Terrible Tower which conditionally belongs to the Great (and also) Terrible Yonah HaEsh. The current prison of Yonatan’s sister, the Princess Sophia. The tower sat to one side of a clearing which now held a mage’s garden. No matter how the forest shifted, Yonatan had never come into the clearing behind the tower, it was always on the side with the garden. 

He had also never been here at night. There was very little moon, but there were a few plants that luminesced. Not very brightly; when he emerged into the clearing with his lantern the lights diminished. But he needed to see the path to the tower.

There was no way to get Soos up it, but Soos didn’t want to go inside, he’d much rather stay in the garden. He knew which plants were safe to eat, and was confident no monsters would come here, not ones looking to eat horses anyways. No, if a monster were to come they would be here for the wizard, probably after some potion or spell. Monsters, like humans, needed the services of mages, but were more comfortable dealing with other monsters. 

Yonatan removed Soos’ saddle, leaning it up against the tower, and started climbing. 

Not so easy in slippers… Thankfully the large thorns were just illusions. He made it up no problem, and keeping in mind the spacial dilation he hopped to the floor. 

The workshop, which looked normal from where he’d sat on the windowsill, suddenly became nearly 4 times larger. Having expected this he rolled out of his fall. His slippers made soft pat pat pat noises as he walked briskly to the trap door which was unfortunately closed but for those in the know, and Yonatan was, there was a secret human sized door. That led to the conveniently human sized stairs that ran alongside the large ones. In fact, the only way to access those stairs was through that entrance. 

From the workshop course. Once you were in the tower proper, as long as you knew the stairs existed, they would graciously appear for you. This was a feature that Yonah had added since Sophia’s arrival, as well as a few well placed and magically hidden ladders and ropes. 

The desired room clear in Yonatan’s mind, it was only one flight down to the hallway that led to the bedroom. The massive door had a very much not hidden crack in the lower right corner, perfectly irresistible to any sneaking thief. Though these days it got more use by Princess Sophia when she needed the bathroom at night. 

Ignoring the half-giant asleep in his bed, Yonatan made a beeline for the massive golden birdcage that rested next to the nightstand. Though he wasn’t checking on Sophia. To get up to the bed he had to climb on the outside of the cage up to the nightstand and jump the very safe distance from the nightstand to the bed. He still looked down and climbed carefully just in case. 

The Princess Sophia was not in the bed which hung suspended off center in the cage. He continued to climb up as quietly as possible. Best not to make noises that would wake up the giant in an irritable manner. 

Which is why he took a running leap off nightstand, landing with a soft PUFF on the pillow. Right next to the giant’s head. But Yonah did not stir. 

The half-giant slept with his back to the wall, on his left side, angled downward. Left arm tucked under two pillows, right arm lazily hung around the pillow. If Sophia had been sleeping on Yonah’s person she would have been curled up in that right arm, against the giant’s face. She was not. 

Well. Fine. That was her prerogative. Yonatan wasn’t here for her anyways. Well he was but not just yet. First he needed the half-giant. He knelt down Yonah’s face. Trickles of dim orange light escaped through the eyelids. The prince was a bit nervous about waking the wizard, but it had to be done. He experimented first by tapping the giant’s nose. 

The deep breaths turned into stilted gasps and snuffles, the giant starting to become aware of a human guest. 

“Uh, Mr Giant?” 

One dimly glowing eye cracked open to look at him in confusion. 

“Eh?” The giant grunted. Then the right arm lifted and before Yonatan could react he was slapped down under a massive palm. It had been a lazy move, so he wasn’t injured, rather he was gently pressed into the pillow. Yonatan didn’t resist. 

After running all the way here Yonatan had escaped the majority of his anxiety, and the weight of the hand was pushing the rest away, and the warmth was extremely relaxing. Which, while part of his plan, this not exactly how he pictured spending the night. It was not comfortable. 

After another minute he pushed the hand off and he sat in front of the Giant’s face. Yonah had started to fall asleep again. 

“Where’s my sister?” Yonatan hissed. 

It took a few seconds before the giant grunted out “Iher?” 

“My sister. Sophia” Yonatan helped. 

Yonah took a breath and with some effort said something in Implausible Giant and even though Yonatan was fluent it was garbled. But the giant had said it with a slight smile. The prince didn’t need to be a genius to know Yonah had eaten Sophia. As long as he didn't think about it too hard it shouldn’t be a problem. Of course Yonatan thought very hard about most things. 

And if you’re wondering why Yonatan wasn’t concerned that his sister was eaten by a half giant, maybe you’re thinking Yonatan thought of her as being in his way? And having his sister eaten was one less person ahead of him in the line of succession. No. He knew his sister was safe and snug in her giant’s stomach. The half-giant had half-cursed her so that she couldn’t be digested and didn’t need to breathe. 

But he could and he did!!! And the very sleepy giant’s hand got hold of him once more and shoved him towards the face. Without much trouble one of his legs was forced between the jaws! It was painful too, not because Yonah was biting him, just the contortion of his hips. His other leg was bent and his knee was against Yonah’s fangs. Yonatan yelled, quietly, and punched Yonah in the nose. 

“No you stupid giant I’m not Sophia! You already ate her!” 

That got Yonah’s attention. He released the human’s leg and smacked his lips as he blinked into almost full consciousness. 

“That’s better!” Yonatan stroked Yonah’s nose, he knew the giant liked that a lot. “I Hope you enjoyed that little treat, but I’m not on the menu.” 

The giant’s eyes flitted open, the soft orange light focusing on the prince. “You taste,” the giant breathed in and out, “like you sister.” He smiled a bit mischievously. 

“I know I do, that’s why I’m not angry,” said Yonatan. “But don’t do that again unless I give you permission.” 

“Hmf,” Yonah breathed sharply, “You never do.”

“That’s your problem, not mine.”

“And what?” he sighed, “Is yours?” Yonah genuinely wanted to know. He liked the prince. Yonatan might be pompous but he had a good heart.

Yonatan pouted and looked away, “I’m. Anxious.”

Yonah took the prince in his hand again, his palm against Yonatan’s back. Once Yonatan leaned into his hand he stroked and massaged the human. Using his knuckles against the prince’s back, taking his arms between fingers, squeezing and rubbing gently but firmly.

“You always are, I want to know why, Little Prince,” said Yonah with a little more sternness. 

Yonatan linked an arm around Yonah’s fingers, squeezing them to get Yonah’s full attention. He looked right into the giant’s eyes, and even with the glow he could see his reflection. 

“Can. I sleep first?” Yonatan yawned, “Here? With you?”

Yonah sighed, and gave the prince a squeeze back. 

Back in school, his friends that knew he was half-giant were insistent that they sleep cuddled up to him before exams. All of them piled on top of him, in his arms, They would sleep so soundly even if they were terrified. It was a power he did not understand, but folks tended to sleep more soundly if he was holding them, or they were laying on him. Not that he minded, he absolutely loved being adorned in friends. 

“Of course.” 

He also knew Yonatan wasn’t above ordering him around, even if the prince didn’t technically have that authority. The kid, who was almost a young adult, was very commanding. Yonah angled himself a bit more towards the prince, hooking his arm around his face so the prince could crawl into his embrace, which Yonatan did without being prompted. Curling up with his back to the giant. 

“You’re sure you’re alright?” Yonah asked one more time. 

“No.’

He wasn’t expecting that answer and expressed his surprise with a small snort of air at the prince’s back. The prince did not look at him. 

“I’m too tired to deal with it, and can’t sleep because of it,” he said very quietly. 

Yonah made a grunt of understanding. Whatever ‘it’ was, the prince would handle it better after a proper night’s sleep. Or at least some sleep. The prince had amazing timing, it was barely ten minutes since he and Sophia had woken up to the HourGlass’s alarm, and reset her curse. So the prince had at least 3 and half solid hours of sleep to look forward to. 

Yonatan buried his face in the giant’s arm. It was so soft and warm, and friendly. That was what he needed after all, a friendly presence. Before that had always been Sophia, holding him tightly as he cried and shivered. But this was leagues beyond that;He could feel his mind and body calming down so rapidly it was almost alarming. And then he was asleep. 

---

Yonah was thankful that Sophia woke up first, waking him so he could stop the HourGlass before it gave them all a painful headache. 

He was a bit miffed when Sophia re-activated her curse, mumbling something about still needing sleep and ‘you can wait a few more hours for breakfast right?’ but not waiting for an answer before falling back asleep. He could of course wake her back up, but if Sophia didn’t want to be spat out there wasn’t much he could do without invasive magics.

“Morning already?” 

Even trying hard not to disturb the prince, Yonah had to lean over to reach the HourGlass. Yonatan had still woken. 

“Yes. you can sleep longer if you like,” Yonah said, “but I’m getting up.”

“No. no. I’m good,” Yonatan freed himself from Yonah’s arms, stumbling off the pillow and onto the nightstand. The prince didn’t look very rested, but Yonah didn't argue with him. 

Yonatan’s head throbbed a bit, mostly from lack of sleep but also from his wild ride of mania last night. He made himself focus on the waking wizard. It did not escape his Attention that yonah was not spitting up his sister. The half-giant sat up and the bed sheet fell off of him, Yonatan could see the wizard’s slightly full midsection. No movement either, but it was hard to tell as Yonah yawned and stretched. To take his mind off that he looked at Yonah’s face. 

His normally trim goatee was lost a bit in the surrounding beard, and Yonah’s wild hair had come out of it’s golden bands so it hung over his shoulders like a lion’s mane. He yawned again and Yonatan got a good view of the large fangs. 

Yonatan wanted to say something now, but decided to wait until the wizard changed out of his pajamas. He used magic do it and Yonatan loved watching people use magic. And once Yonah was properly dressed Yonatan realized he was in PJs too. Ok, get dressed first, then talk. 

“Is there a chance you have clothes that fit me?” Yonatan asked. 

“Actually, yes,” Yonah said, in a soft voice, picking up the prince and placing him on top of the chest of drawers where he kept his clothes. There was a human sized wardrobe on top. 

“It’s magic,” Yonah prompted. 

Yonatan opened it and found a few simple clothes that were indeed his size, though it was mostly outfits that were clearly meant for Sophia. A green one stood out to him, green usually did. Must be something about being a royal of the Mystic Woods. You always looked your best in green. 

“If you want privacy, step inside,” Yonah indicated the wardrobe. 

Oh! Fascinating. Yonatan stepped through and found a small open circular dressing room, with a carpeted floor, racks of clothing all around, and a mirror. Brightly lit though no obvious light source; Yonatan decided that mystery could be dealt with later. 

He walked out with purpose and Yonah put a hand on the dresser so Yonatan could walk across to his shoulder. 

“Would you like breakfast, Your Highness?” Yonah said, still keeping his voice soft but managing to be snarky.  

Yonatan elbowed the giant in and for his cheek. 

“Yes,” he said. 

Breakfast made him remember...

“So. Uh…. Sophia-“ Yonatan started to ask as Yonah headed towards the kitchen. From his bedroom to a short hallway to the stairs and up the stairs. 

“She wanted to sleep more,” he said with a kind of wistful sigh. 

The giant was walking with an incredibly smooth gate; gliding.  He put a hand to his middle as he spoke, smiling. “We had a pretty intense evening on patrol.”

Yonatan nodded. 

Accepting that Sophia’s captor/mentor/best friend regularly ate her was pretty easy. Once the curse was explained. Stupid, extremely unnerving, but not hard to understand. Giants ate people after all, at least evil ones did, and Yonah was an evil giant. What was difficult to wrap his mind around was that Sophia liked it. No. Loved it. She’d been in there for over 8 hours now. And what was he, her brother doing about it? 

Sitting casually on Yonah’s shoulder like she was just asleep in her bed! But she was in Yonah’s stomach! That was so WEIRD! The more he thought about it the weirder it got! So he had to stop thinking about it. Not easy when he instinctively looked down from his perch and had a perfect view of the giant's gut. Pleasantly stuffed is how Yonatan might describe it, though it was even more disconcerting that his mind considered it at all pleasant. 

He looked forward; They entered the kitchen. But he didn’t really want to think about food now. Of course he didn’t say so, because he knew Yonah would wonder if he was sick. Explaining was out of the question. That meant he would have to force himself to eat whatever the giant served him and hope he could hold it down.

Yonah put him down on the dining table, which had a smaller, human sized table placed on it, and began gathering his supplies.  

“HEY! I WANT TO WATCH!” Yonatan shouted. He did not want to be left alone to his thoughts even for a moment. 

Shhhh!

Yonah glared at him, pointing to his stomach then his ears “Please, you can be quiet, I can hear you just fine.” He put the prince back on his shoulder. 

As soon as Yonah started cooking, all of Yonatan's previous queasiness went away. Sophia had expounded upon the giant’s prowess as a chef but hearing about it and smelling it were two different things. 

And eating it was something else entirely. 

As soon as everything was on the table Yonatan practically inhaled the food. It was really just scrambled eggs and some sautéed vegetables but the best he’d ever had in his life. Yonah really knew his spices and had precision timing to make the softest eggs. Also… he technically hadn’t eaten since lunch the previous day. Having an anxiety attack takes a lot of energy, so the prince was ravenous. 

Though Yonah had made more than enough for himself, he hadn’t gotten himself a plate. He’d turned the stove off and covered the pan with the eggs to keep them warm. What he did get was a cup of morning tea, and one for Yonatan as well, which he poured and cooled off with magic. 

“I take it you wont eat-”

“Until your sister wakes? No. -” he chuckled and yet sounded a bit angry about that. He must be hungry too, and having an indigestible weight in his stomach didn’t change that. 

“But- the tea?” He took a sip and was unsurprised to find it was unbelievably good. Probably made with magic leaves from the garden. 

“She’s not awake to complain about it,” he grinned, taking another sip, as if he would still drink it even if she were. 

It did not escape Yonatan’s notice that Yonah was watching him eat with hunger in his eyes. Thankfully his extreme wisdom let him know it was more jealousy, as he continued to shovel eggs into his princely mouth, than a desire to eat him. Though that was there. Maybe someday, but Yonatan was determined to deny the giant for as long as possible. 

“So, little prince, what exactly prompted you to come running into my clutches last night?” 

The prince swallowed his mouthful of food and took a long drink of chilled apple and blueberry juice which Yonah had gotten from his cold cellar. 

“I- Kinda wanted Sophia to be around-” Yonatan looked away, and took another bite of food to stall for another half a minute. “Well- I- I was going through father’s notes and I found something. Something important, about the fate of the kingdom.”

“Now I’m worried I shouldn’t be hearing this,” Yonah said, “You were going through Ben’s notes?”

The prince’s eyes widened, and then he laughed,  “HA!” quickly he quieted down remembering his sister- “I do father’s books all the time. He’s taken full advantage of my accursed brain.” 

Was that pity in the giant’s face? “Yonah, I’m grateful for the work. It keeps my mind occupied, or I’d be having breakdowns every other day!” 

After a moment's consideration Yonah nodded. 

“I’m surprised Ben’s brain can’t hold it all, considering it’s got all the power of the Mystic Woods,” Yonah mused. 

“The Mystic Woods, for all it is a large entity, doesn’t understand economics or politics, or even the intricacies of the FairyTales it hosts” Yonatan pointed out, again Yonah nodded. 

“Anyways,” Yonatan pulled the conversation back on track, “I saw in his notes, some observations. Ones that correlated with Sophia’s escapades in the Woods.”

“And?” Yonah asked, but he had a feeling he knew what Yonatan was about to say. 

“And- I could be wrong. But. The forest. It seems to like her, favor her.” He gulped, his voice getting higher and shaky, “Sophia- She. I think she’s already been chosen. As the next Mystic King.” 

The wizard’s face darkened and he put a hand over his stomach again, while the other tightened around tea cup. Yonatan was sitting up straight, worried he’d made a terrible mistake. How would you react if you were told your best friend in the whole wide world was going to be someday joined in a magical hivemind, the other member of which was a mysterious and powerful gestalt entity. What if you were suddenly made aware that the next magical King of the kingdom you lived in, was sleeping in your stomach? 

“Yonatan,” He growled, but it was breathy. “I am so very glad you did not wait.”

Yonatan refocused, “Wait for what?

“You are lucky Sophia is still asleep in my stomach.”

It was REALLY weird to hear him say it so casually, even if the moment wasn't so casual. Cold sweat beaded on Yonatan’s brow. 

“We- Your father and I, we aren’t going to tell her,” he continued. 

A million thoughts flooded Yonatan’s brain but one screamed to the surface. 

“YOU KNOW?”

Yonah’s eyes shimmered behind his thick spectacles. “Yes. We suspected it almost half a year ago, but confirmed it a few months ago.” 

A FEW MONTHS. Now Yonatan couldn’t believe he’d only found out last night. This had been deviously kept out of the reports. No. Wait. There had been changes, exactly 6 months ago, towards more patrols, more missions involving the forest and gauging the response. And more recently, a lot more lessons on the history of the woods and its communities, and how she applied them in her outings. Recently, she’d been learning spells and potions that relied on drawing magic from around her, seeing if the forest would allow its use. And she had no idea she was even doing it. Using magic like the King, but on a much smaller level. 

“You’re…” Yonatan looked into Yonah’s eyes to see a few tears had escaped down his cheeks, “You’re training her. Without her knowledge.”

“You’re worried, too” he continued, “That she’s doing to end up like dad, that you’re going to lose her. And!” his mind hit one new thought, great thoughts. “You’re worried that all this work is going to make it worse. Like if only you sabotaged it, she’ll be rejected, or it won’t take as much of her. ”

Yonah stiffened. Right. Wisdom. 

The prince stood up and walked over to the giant, and sat on his wrist, patting his arm. Now Yonah was the one shaking. His glasses fogged up, and he tightened his grip on his middle. Yonatan was processing this new information, gathering handfuls of the wizard’s arm hair. 

“Yonah,” Yonatan breathed, his heart slowing but lifting considerably “I had no idea you were training her. I freaked out because I too saw Sophia being… taken by The Woods. But Father is... the way he is, well, because to become one with the forest, he had to sacrifice some of his personhood.”

Removing his hand from his stomach before he woke Sophia, he placed it over Yonatan’s knees, and the prince rested a hand over the fingers. A few drops of liquid hit the large knuckles. He must be crying too, but he was smiling so big it hurt. 

“Damn my father.” Yonatan chuckled, “You’re training her so she can avoid that fate. She’s becoming part of the forest in advance to joining with its essence.” 

He wiped his tears, “Yonah,” he said, and made sure the giant was looking at him through clear lenses, “If you do your job properly, Sophia will be the most powerful King in the history of the Woods. But we won't lose her.” 

The giant was smiling too, “I was worried” he sniffed “you stupid perceptive smartass.”

“It’s a blessing. Sometimes,” Yonatan giggled and let the giant scoop him up into a hug. 

The hug was a bit tighter than felt safe, but Yonatan didn’t protest. He was grateful the giant held him above his stomach. Beneath him he felt the beating of the giant’s heart. Noticeably quick but along with the prince’s was slowing down. 

It had been the right decision to come here after all. Maybe the Woods had called to him somehow, when he figured it out, dragging him out here because he was needed. And he needed this too. If he hadn’t told Yonah, he wouldn’t have known Sophia was being trained, and wouldn’t have figured out what that meant. Yonah would have been left to believe he was training his best friend to become an emotionless vessel.

Then Yonah started and breathed in sharply. He dropped Yonatan onto the table. 

“She’s awake. Excuse me,” he said and into the stairwell. 

Yonatan couldnt imagine what floor Yonah had gone to but it was clearly nearby as he heard the muffled retching. 

Ten minutes later Yonah returned with a smiling Sophia sitting on his shoulder. From Yonah’s now clean shaven goatee he deduced that Yonah had spit her up in the bathroom. Sophia was wearing her day clothes, which she must have slept in, but she was completely immaculate. Not even a hair out of place in her massive braid. She even had on her golden tiara. 

“Yonatan!” she hopped off Yonah’s shoulder the moment he was near enough to the table. 

She ran up to her brother and embraced him, “When did you get here?”

Yonatan tried very hard not to cry as he held his sister. Her energy was so infectious, her personality so forceful, there was no way she could end up like their dad even if the traininging did nothing. No way. He would not allow it. 

“Last night- uh” he said, and opening his eyes he saw Yonah, standing behind Sophia, give him a warning hand motion. 

Sophia pulled herself away from her brother but kept her hands on his shoulder, “last NIGHT? Hold on- Why-”

“I got, a bit anxious, you know how it is… And since you well, um- eaten... Yonah helped calm me down.”

Sophia scowled for a moment, not because Yonatan had cuddled up with her giant while she was in said giant's gut, but because Yonah had not woken her! He’d let her sleep without telling her that her brother had ran away from home in panic. Sure he’d been more than capable of handling it, but this was her brother! 

“Yes, he is good for that,” she affirmed. Then got distracted as Yonah got out a second set of human sized eating utensils and a set for himself, loading his with the eggs and vegetables. 

She let go of Yonatan to snatch her plate and fork from Yonah, and before he’d set his plate down started scooping off a massive but relatively negligible onto hers. He retaliated by eating before she had finished taking her portion. In particular he would scoop away the pieces of vegetables she was carving chunks out of, eating them all. Eventually she managed to get a decent helping of eggs and veggies. 

“I'm starving and this smells amazing!” she said, also eating before she’d sat down at the smaller table. Yonatan was a bit impressed she could eat so soon and so easily after being eaten herself.  “Ohhh did you roast these with scallops!?” 

Mhm, Yonah said though his mouthful of food. “And I used goat’s milk for the eggs.”

“Oh! Why such a treat today?” she asked, taking another bite and savoring it but also eating it quickly because there was plenty more on her plate. 

“Well, we have a prince in dining with us!” he said. 

Still a little hungry, Yonatan, without asking, but with a bit of a side glance from Yonah, took a second serving of eggs off the giant’s plate. He sat down next to Sophia and poured her some of the apple blueberry juice. And another cup for himself, it was so delicious. Plus it had stayed chilled in the magic pitcher. 

Princess Sophia snorted, “Well I'm not complaining!” 

The rest of breakfast was pleasant. Yonatan updated Sophia on the goings on back in Orr, and Sophia told him all about her adventures and magic lessons. Sophia was excited to hear all the stupid gossip about the lower nobility. Yonatan had a million questions about each spell and potion she mentioned, which Yonah answered as best he could, going into enough detail for the prince but keeping it brief to not bore Sophia. 

“I think I should probably check in with the castle…” Yonatan said a bit sheepishly. 

Sophia’s eyes got wide, “Does anyone know where you are?”

Yonatan’s face grew hot, “N-no. I snuck out.” 

“You’re going to be in so much trouble!” There was no pity in her voice. 

“We can use my mirror,” Yonah said, clearing the table and taking the humans up to the workshop. 

There was no need for any rhyme, as Yonatan touched the gold filigree and asked it plainly to connect to His Majesty King Ben. The mirror made a bit of a surprised noise but then turned foggy. It still took a few minutes to connect. Ben’s personal mirror would not show anything until he answered the call, to avoid anyone snooping. 

While they were waiting Yonatan decided he didn’t want to face his father and had slowly been inching away. So that when Ben’s torso appeared in the mirror he only saw Sophia and Yonah behind her. Ben looked a little ragged and twitchy, his eyes brighter than normal, beard unshaven, his complexion a bit green, making him look like a tree with a bit of moss starting to grow on it.   

“Sophia, darling, is this urgent? We have an emergency, your brother-” Then he stopped, narrowing his eyes. 

“Uhuh” Sophia noticed her brother was out of view and motioned to Yonah, who pushed Yonatan to Sophia’s side, she took his shoulders and grinned at her father. “Guess who showed up last night?”

The King’s face was one of instant relief, smiling like he was about to cry. “Yonatan!” 

Then his face hardened, his eyes pulsed with power. And Yonatan tensed in anticipation; Sophia squoze his shoulders, and Yonah backed up. They could hear the trees rustling outside. His Mystic Majesty was about to explode. 

“YOUNG MAN DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW WORRIED WE’VE BEEN! I WOKE THE WHOLE CITY! YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE!” 

~At least it was through a mirror and not in person ~

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[mynightingalecomplex]

Don’t Get Too Comfortable

Ok, so here’s a (not so little) fic I’ve been toying with. It’s long, so I’m going to break it into parts. I default to Pre-Disney+ Mandalorians, so the helmets are not an issue.

Synopsis: Just off a successful hunt, Jesse Libarra finds herself traveling in company with another Mandalorian, Aden Nasreyc. The two Mandalorians are looking forward to a few days of rest on a backwater planet but, unknown to them, the Black Sun have followed Aden and are intent on exacting their revenge on the man who killed their leader.

Tags: previous injury, broken ribs, exhaustion, field medicine

Link to glossary

Link to illustrations:

Part One

Part Two

Aden floated up from dreamless sleep into a fuzzy, pink semi-wakefulness. Dreams still niggled about the edges of his mind and his eyelids were stuck shut, but he could feel the pillow under his head and the blankets twisted through naked legs. It had been so long since he had awakened in a bed --an actual bed!-- that he allowed himself to simply lie there without wondering where he was, how he’d gotten there, or who was trying to kill him. He couldn’t remember any reason to get up, so maybe he’d just lay there for five more minutes….

He surfaced again some time later. Judging by the light, it had been more than five minutes. Again he lay still, luxuriating in the feel of sheets and a foam pillow against a cheek that had slept for three months on the inside of a helmet. Golden light played through his eyelids. The enviro-unit grumbled and whined, insulating the room in a cocoon of noise. He drew up his knee and burrowed into his pillow, searching for the fragments of his dream, but it was fruitless. He was awake now and would find no more sleep for a time. 

Aden opened his eyes. Light like liquid gold streamed through the curtains as they danced in the enviro-unit’s breeze. Dust motes floated in a ballet up and down the shafts of sunlight. Somewhere outside he heard a door slam, a voice, but then all was silence. He squinted at the chrono on the table. Fifteen hundred. He yawned. He knew he shouldn’t have slept so long. It was wasteful. It was foolish. It was dangerous. But it had been necessary. 

The hunt on Vurus had been long and dangerous. Three months without a single full night’s sleep, of constant watchfulness and wakefulness, living always with the shadow of death, had left him at the edge of his very considerable limits. He had taken privation, discomfort, and mental and physical punishment, and if he hoped to take it again he had to have rest. It had been a risk to spend so long asleep, particularly after the mess at the space port, but in a blaster-proof room with another Mando’ad on his six the risk had been worth taking. 

Memory jarred him further into alertness. He rolled up on his elbow to look around the room. There on a pallet between the bed and the window, slept the girl from his half-remembered dream. Feet bare, dressed only in red fatigues, long brown hair pooling loose about her face and shoulders, she lay in the sunlight like a porcelain doll except for the blaster clutched in her tapered fingers.  

          Suddenly conscious that he was dressed only in his boxers, he sat up to pull the sheets over his naked legs. The pain that had long been his companion, dulled just enough by sleep and medication to pass out of his mind, flashed through his body and left him gasping. Modesty forgotten, he hugged his legs to his chest and buried his face in his knees, all his efforts concentrated on silencing the string of curses that had lined up on his tongue. 

           When the spots finally cleared from his vision, he found Jesse at his knee, regarding him from the floor with grave green eyes. “Hiya.” She said, her voice low and rusty with sleep. “Do I need to ask you how you're feeling?” 

          He tried to smile. “Bout as bad as I look.” 

          “Sheesh. You belong in a hospital, then.” 

          “You up for breakfast?” His stomach had woken up and was reminding him that the last thing he had eaten was a protein cube on the train to the Vurus spaceport. 

          She turned to look at the chrono. The golden light caught in her loose chestnut hair, glistening like syrup in a crystal decanter. A rogue corner of his mind ran an imaginary hand through that long brown mane before he could stop it. He shoved the thought back into the depths of his subconscious and pulled the sheets up over his legs, trying to ignore the blush that was creeping up his neck. 

          “We might could find breakfast around here.” Jesse said. “I know a little place that caters to late risers.” 

         “Sounds good to me.” 

         She tossed his flightsuit at him and headed for the fresher. Gingerly, Aden eased himself into his clothes. Socks, suit, gloves, tak-vest and ammo belt went on with his usual care. Pushing himself to his feet, he stomped into his flat-soled boots and opened the curtains. He stood at the edge of the window -- no point making himself a target-- and looked out, enjoying the peaceful removal from the afternoon bustle and the warmth of the sun on his face. 

          His stomach growled. He couldn't remember his last meal. There had been a cup of burnt caf at the Vurus police station and a ration cube on the train to the spaceport, but after all the trouble had started an empty stomach had been the least of his problems. He rubbed his ribs absently and winced. Jesse was right; he was slow and getting slower. 

          “Fresher's open.” Jesse padded out in sock feet, tying off the end of her long brown braid. 

          “Vore.” He stepped away from the window. He looked reluctantly at his armor stacked neatly on the chest-of-drawers. “What do you think? Is this a blaster and beskar kind of place, or maybe a little more casual?”

        Jesse shrugged. “Depends on how threatening you find greasy eggs and soggy waffles.”

         Aden considered this. Battle-ready was all well and good, but three months in full kit left a man feeling more like a sardine than a member of society. It was just a diner, after all, not a drug den. Not even a cantina. And they hadn't been on Dantooine long enough to make any enemies. He bounced once or twice on the balls of his feet, enjoying the unaccustomed lightness. “Maybe just the body plates.” He said. “Just so they know we're Mandos.”

          The diner was everything Jesse had promised. Basically a long chrome tube with big glass windows, the diner was alive with beings crowded into red vinyl booths. Waiters, humans and Twi'leks instead of the droids popular on city worlds, bustled about with pots of steaming caf and plates of greasy food, laughing, shouting, and bantering with the customers. Aden felt himself relaxing. This was a small town on a peaceful world, and the sense of community amongst the patrons was almost palpable. It felt like home. 

         They were seated in a booth along the big front window, working through their second pot of caf. The waitress had looked askance at them at first, but in only chest and knee plates, helmets off and sleeves rolled up, they looked less than threatening. Even in Verad, mercenaries were not unheard of and their money was as good as anyone else's, so here they were in a sticky vinyl booth waiting for their pancakes without drawing any more than an occasional curious glance. 

        Aden sipped his caf and looked out the window at the dusty street. “Nice place.” He commented. “Better than Vurus, but I'm a country boy at heart.” 

          Jesse nodded. “Beats durasteel streets and monorails, that's for sure. I grew up in the vhetin'e. Long rolling hills and grass as far as you can see so this always feels like home.” 

Aden watched her as she looked out the window. He knew he shouldn’t ask. It was rude and it wasn’t remotely his business, but her sharp, sad, porcelain face and those deft fingers belonged to something more than an itinerant bounty-hunter on a third-class world. “What are you doing trapped out here, Jesse?” Even he could hear the despair in his voice. ”Don’t you have family waiting for you?”

“No.” She answered first, then looked away from the window. “No family.” He didn’t think she was going to elaborate. There was no reason she should and he was kicking himself for being a di’kut when she went on. “I was with the GAR before the… before the Empire took over. When Kal Skirata and his boys bugged out they went with hundreds, thousands of others, commandos and regular troopers too. The Empire lost almost a third of their fighting force, but they kept it quiet. Whole regiments disappeared at a time, and most of them headed for Mandalore. It was chaos.” She looked down at the cup in her hands but he knew she wasn't seeing it. “One of my boys got out. One didn't. Two didn't even try.”

          Aden tried to think of a way to ask the obvious question without further insult, gave up, and asked anyway. “What about you? You bugged out with the rest?” 

She shook her head. “Not a chance. I’d have stayed. I wasn’t there to serve the Republic. I was there cause my boys were there and it was a steady paycheck. What did I care what symbol the boys had painted on their armor?

“No, when the dust settled, the Imps repainted the troops that were left, brought in the last battalions of Kamino-trained soldiers, and all us irregular non-coms showed up the next morning to find our clearance revoked, our quarters occupied, our possessions confiscated, and our boys renumbered and reassigned.”

They sat in silence for a long moment, Jesse lost in thought, Aden shocked at this first-hand account of what had been only rumors through the Mando’a community. Finally Jesse shook herself and the gloom that clouded her face vanished as if it had never been. “So, here I am, foot-loose and fancy-free, back doing what’s best for the one who's most important.” She tapped her chest plates. “Me.”

Aden didn’t know what to say, but he was rescued from shoving his foot further into his mouth by the arrival of the waitress with their order. After months of hard work on nothing but field rations and will power, Aden felt he could eat an entire nerf by himself, horns, hooves and all, but he had settled on ordering basically the entire menu, because his momma had raised him with some manners. Werris eggs, fried nerf bacon, sausage, crispy potato patties, and stacks of waffles with cream and slices of shefna fruit on top all appeared from the kitchen together, still sizzling in pools of grease or dripping with sticky Alderaanian molasses. It took two waitresses to bring it all to the table. 

          After that, there was no more conversation for a while. Talking was a waste of time with food going cold on the table. Jesse was polishing off the leftover half of his third waffle - - he considered it more a gift to a good friend than an admission of defeat-- when she spoke suddenly, pointing an accusatory fork at him. “All right, pretty boy. Now it's your turn. What's a handsome fellow like you doing on Dantooine without enough money to buy a bed for the night?”

         He winced, but it was only fair. “Oh, you know how far money goes in this economy. Gotta work where you can.” He tried a nonchalant shrug, knowing it wouldn't work. 

         “Vurus to Dantooine's a long jump with no money in your pocket.” She rejoined. ”And this isn't the place to come to turn a quick credit.”

         No, he thought, but it might be a good place to stage a tactical withdrawal. But of course he wasn't going to tell Jesse that. No sense in getting her mixed up in whatever trouble he'd gotten himself into. “It's as close as I could get to Qilura on a passenger ship.” That at least was true. 

           “Family out there?” 

          “A sister. Brother's wife.” He answered immediately, glad to have something he could talk openly about. “She's not Mando, but she did right by him and she's trying to do right by his boy, so I do what I can.” ‘What he could’ meant going hungry and traveling forth-class on passenger ships so Miran and her son could live a step above the poverty line, but he could see Jesse understood that and wasn't going to ask him to elaborate. “It's not the kind of help I'd like to give her, but it's help she needs and it's the least I can do.”

          Jesse nodded and scraped the last of the whipped cream off his plate with her fork. “Good for you. It's hard when they're not Mando'ade. How do you get from here to Qilura? That's another two jumps from here.”

          He shrugged. “There's usually some freighter or other going that way. I'm not above hauling cargo and swabbing decks if it means a free hyperspace jump.”

          “Makes sense.” Jesse said. “Tell you what. I've got a little extra on me this time, so how about I stake you a day's rations and a hyperspace jump and drinks'll be on you next time we run into each other.”

          “Jesse, I…” Aden was at a loss. What could he say? How could he accept? But, on the other hand, how could he refuse? “That would be… “ 

          Then the world exploded.

[thedaltonsanctuary]

Welcome REGINALD HUGGINS to the Dalton Sanctuary as a DOMINANT STAFF. Please send in your blog within the next 48 hours or we will have to reopen your role. You may begin dash activity immediately, no need to wait for anything else once your blog is made.

✎ OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION

ALIAS/PRONOUNS: Cherry she/her AGE: (18+ only) 27 TIMEZONE: EST TRIGGERS: see previous ANYTHING ELSE: (like your fc if it isn’t already canon) Noel Fisher *ignore all the bio stuff about Rachel

✎ IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

NAME: Reginald ‘Belch’ Huggins AGE/BIRTHDAY: (21+ only): 28, December 18 GENDER/PRONOUNS: cis male; he/him SUB/DOMINANT/SWITCH?: Dominant, has one claim STAFF/RESIDENT/VISITOR?: Staff SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Gay KINKS: TBD ANTI-KINKS: Scat, vore, age play, watersports

✎ BRIEF BIOGRAPHY

Reginald Mykal Berry was born via surrogacy to Hiram and LeRoy Berry on December 18, 1991. Despite growing up as a member of the Berry family, Reginald always felt displaced. The first several years of his life were great, until Rachel came along. His sister, although he loved her, was domineering and bratty at best, and always demanded nearly every ounce of attention their fathers had to give. Due to his lack of interest in the dance and singing classes he was enrolled in, the stage was never where Reginald felt most at home. This quickly earned him a spot on the back-burner, leaving him to often fend for himself on nights his fathers were preoccupied with Rachel and her latest endeavor. This lead to Reginald acting out. He began cutting class, his grades dropped, and he began running with the wrong crowd. By 13 he was known for his petty criminal history, his aggressive and somewhat violent nature, and his complete and total disregard for authority figures.

It was this behavior that lead his fathers to finally lay down some semblance of a law- Reginald was required to bring up his grades and get involved in at least one extracurricular activity, or he’d find himself miserable. So, Reginald did as he was told, pulling his grades from the depths of the gutter (though, only up to a C-Average) and joining the baseball team. It was here that he finally managed to excel at something, and he fell in love with the sport. Still, no matter what he did, he couldn’t fully remove himself from the title of ‘black sheep’.

When Reg was 16 and a sophomore in high school (having been held back a year in middle school), Dorsey Corcoran moved into town. Though the redhead caught Reginald’s eye from day one, he couldn’t bring himself to let it show. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching. Observing. Wondering. His curiosity often got the better of him, and he found himself being late to classes, skipping meals, and hanging around in hallways and classrooms far longer than he needed, all to make sure Dorsey was alright. He got the sense the other wasn’t exactly the assertive type, and it was that inexplicable attraction that lead Reg to feel protective of the other. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t aware something was off- Dorsey’s quiet nature, his shyness, his sense of uncertainty and air of insecurity…The boy always seemed to be alone, if not with his older sister Marley. Reginald’s interest grew into a crush, and he found himself feeling off-balance and downright awkward any time he even considered speaking to Dorsey.

Things at home continued on, and at 16 Reginald took a part-time job at the local baseball diamond. He scrimped and saved every penny he could, and by 18 and the time he graduated high school, he was ready to move out on his own. He found himself a small, one-bedroom house in what wasn’t the most savory part of town, but one he knew his family wouldn’t deign to step foot in. Progressing to community college, Reg took classes part time, played on their small baseball team for a partial scholarship, and worked full time at the community center, continuing his job from high school as well as adding the title of coach. Reginald hadn’t been settled long, and everything seemed great…Until it wasn’t. One fateful day, during one of the most important practices of the season, Reg Berry tore his Rotator Cuff, incurring several surgeries and ending his baseball career forever. This tossed the marked Dominant (which came as no surprise to anyone) into a downward spiral, one he continued for the next year or so.

Although he’d practically given up hope of any semblance of a future (subsequently returning to overuse of alcohol and recreational use of drugs). Still, the one constant remained. Dorsey Corcoran. The Rose’s had never been known to have much of anything, still Reg couldn’t quell his shock when he managed to move into the house only two doors down from them at 18. Even after his injury, continuing to see Dorsey kept Reg semi-sane, despite the fact that the two still hadn’t had a conversation. Being neighbors afforded Reginald the opportunity to learn more than he had about the other during his observations in high school. He learned more about Dorsey’s family, their relationships, their struggles…And the reality of the situation. Reg began leaving small gifts for the other- $20 in the mailbox, to ensure Dorsey was able to eat for the week. New notebooks, pens, and other school supplies on their stoop for his birthday, and other times just because. Even then, the Dominant did what he could to provide for the other, even if he could only in the smallest of ways. Then, one fateful night, another of a seemingly endless string, Reg heard what he could only describe as a ruckus coming from the Rose house. At first, he thought nothing of it- it wasn’t until he heard what he was convinced were Dorsey’s screams that he took action. Grabbing the baseball bat he kept behind his door for protection, Reg barged over and into the house, arriving just in time to see Dorsey’s father (whom Reg had always written off as out of the picture- apparently with good reason) going after the boy, hammer in hand, standing over an unconscious Dorsey. Reg swung unthinkingly, catching the man by surprise and knocking him out cold with one hit.

Naturally, Reginald called 911, staying with Dorsey and his family until help arrived. Finally gathering the courage to introduce himself, Reginald Berry finally formally met Dorsey Rose during a visit to the hospital. The two became instantly bonded, inseparable- it was as if this was how things were always meant to happen. The pair quickly became an item, and they fed off of each other in the best of ways. Despite Dorsey’s struggle with mental illness (which Reginald both recognized in him and took onto his own shoulders- making sure he got the appropriate help, counseling, and medications) and despite Reginald’s hardass exterior and struggles with substance abuse and addiction, they managed to make it. Reg enrolled full-time in school, throwing himself into courses and bringing Dorsey with him upon the Submissive’s acceptance. From there the two traveled to a four-year university together where, two years in, Reginald took Dorsey Rose as his claim. Graduating with a 3.9GPA and with honors, Reg immediately began to delve into schooling for his Master’s degree, already having decided he wanted to further study the world they lived in, but never had paid much attention to beyond his own Dominance. He graduated his Master’s program at 25, and began exploring his career opportunities. Reg took a job at the community college they’d both graduated from while he awaited Dorsey’s completion of his degree. The two had settled nicely into their lives, and into their relationship and claim. Still, they talked about more. More adventure. More life. More experiences. Ergo, when Reginald learned of open positions at the famed Dalton Sanctuary, the pair up and moved, both accepting teaching positions and toasting to their new lives.

*NOTE: During his rebellious phase, Reginald ran with the Bowers Gang, and therefore knows and is connected to Victor Criss and Henry Bowers. However, once he moved out on his own, incurred his injury, witnessed what he did, and began shifting his focus towards cleaning up his life and his relationship with Dorsey, he drifted apart from the others. Though they keep in touch occasionally, Reginald is unaware that the pair have landed at the Sanctuary.

[helenarlett-rex]

How did you come up with the idea for Dank Wildcats, Miss Smalls, Snow Bunny, and Yiffpunk?

Hmm...? This about the freaky similarities I was finding? Well... In it’s core we have two franchises here. The Dank Wildcats and Miss Smalls both take place in the same universe with a certain amount of crossover, and Snow Bunny and Yiffpunk both take place in the same universe with a certain amount of crossover.

Snow Bunny was the first. I wrote the first Snow Bunny story back in December of 2016. Back then I was still in my experimental stage. I was just writing weird erotica and trying to figure out if it sold, what sold, and so on. At the time the goal was to write several different books of various different fetishes and see what stuck and what didn’t. Snow Bunny was the third book in that experiment and my thought process for that one is probably best summed up by a conversation between me and my editor.

Helen: So what did you think?

Violet: I think you looked at a bunch of Zootopia porn and then decided to write a book.

Helen: Yeah... but what did you think?

As for the setting I created in Snow Bunny, I was inspired by a news clip I saw about CRISPR. I just remember this guy talking about wanting to commercialize genetic modification and how it would eventually be so easy you could do it in your own garage. Then the guy gave himself a simple injection of god knows what, and that was supposed to make his muscles bigger. And my first thought was, “That’s kind of interesting. But can you get it to the point of being like the Splicers from Batman Beyond? Just wait until the Furry community gets their hands on that.” And that thought led to me creating a world where that was exactly what happened.

When Snow Bunny evolved into Yiffpunk it was inspired by a post I read here on tumblr back before the big porn ban. Someone was talking about how we had a punk for everything. Steampunk, Cyberpunk, Dieselpunk, so on and so on... but there wasn’t one for Furry. They then gave a speculative idea of what it would look like, and I thought, that’s a good idea... This should be a thing. So I decided to make it a thing. I ended up straying pretty far from the OPs speculative idea because you can’t just make a world like that without having any reason for why it is the way it is. So I used Snow Bunny as a starting point and sat down and figured out how we could go from point A, to point B, and what events would have to happen in that world to take it there, and the setting kind of wrote itself from there, resulting in a very different vision of what Yiffpunk would be from what the OP had imagined. Which is fine because the goal wasn’t to just copy something someone else had said. The goal was just to create a Yiffpunk world. But I wanted it to be my own thing.

Moving on to the creation of The Dank Wildcats, that one was inspired by two parts. First of all the characters sort of came to me in a dream. I literally just had a weird dream about these random characters I’d never seen before and I thought they were kind of fun, so I wanted to use them. I made slight changes because in the dream all three of them were beavers and I thought that’s a little boring. I’ll make at least one of them a platypus to give it a little contrast. Then once I had the characters I had to come up with a setting to use them in. Due to the nature of the dream I had a little bit of an idea of what the setting would look like. I was thinking something similar to a Zootopia style setting, but I didn’t want just that. Zootopia had a good idea but it left a lot of questions unanswered. And my biggest question was, what do the carnivores eat? It’s a crime to prey on other animals, but carnivores can only eat meat... What do you eat when you can only eat meat and you live in a world where all meat was another person? So I sat down and started thinking out how a society like that would actually function, what sort of things would go on in that world, how different kinds of people would react to living in such a world, and so on... And that was how The Dank Wildcats was made.

With Miss Smalls I just took the world I had already made for The Dank Wildcats and decided to look at it from the perspective of an unapologetic carnivore instead of a herbivore. I was just doing that one for fun because it gave me a chance to write a bunch of vore stories.

[fyrapartnersearch]

A sly correction!

Hello my lovelies!

Yes, it is me again, haha. I know I've just posted here on this blog not too long ago, but I realized a small mistake on my behalf that I want to correct!

My email was posted with a small error, hence why some couldn't message me in the first place!

Here's the correct address: gilgameshmercury@gmail.com

Also, I would like to add that I am also open to Harry Potter (Next Gen) roleplay!

Concerning original roleplays, we can surely discuss to see if we find anything we are both highly interested in. Mainly either supernatural, urban myth, demons, vampires, creatures of the night or mythological gods. (I can also be swayed for a dark medieval fantasy.. But more of a subtle sort of fantasy, similar to Berserk or Game of Thrones). 

In case you didn't get the chance to read or find my previous ad, I will post it here down below, just in case. Be sure to read through it thoroughly.

I have a strong penchant for including original characters and ideas that can be added to the pre-existing plot. Also very happy to expand on the given worlds and open to AU’s. Okay so I am a really big nerd when it comes to the supernatural, mysterious, urban myth and fantasy. Love combining those given elements with organised crime, complex characters, cataclysmic events and dark schemes that all unravels as time goes on. 

 A little about me. You must be at least 18+ of age if you want to start a roleplay with this gal here. Since I am in my twenties, I prefer maturer partners. I accept anyone, regardless male or female. What I expect is a decent (if not very good) grasp on grammar, the ability and will to write creatively, shoulder a great part of the plotting and responsibility as well as passion for roleplaying. Of course this should be seen as a fun hobby but I really like to invest… I wish for my partner / friend to take equal initiative. 
 Here are my cravings and guidelines! Even though they are limited, I made sure to filter out the ones I know I wouldn’t role-play anytime soon. So if you are interested in something I didn’t mention here, I am afraid I might not role-play this or decline. 

 Fandoms and cravings:

Castlevania ****

Devil May Cry ****

Game of Thrones ***

Witcher ***


Fate **


Star Wars ***


What it entails:
  Alright, so you are writing with some of a mature age. I have 11 years of writing experience when it comes to the game. This will be a fair warning that this request is not for the faint of heart. There will be violence, swearing, gore, intimate themes, uncomfortable subjects, drama, conflict and other dark matters included within the story. I have few limits but I will respect the boundaries of my partner, so do not shy away from telling me. Just so you know, I won’t fade to black or skip out on the nitty gritty. Go big or go home.  Interests: My line of interests are very electric when it comes to genres. I love conceiving my own lore inside a stories, be it an original or a pre-existing story. Gothic fantasy among others are one of my favorites. I am not opposed to tapping into science fiction, action, romance, crime, action or thriller genres, in fact I encourage it. Inspirations for me are Lovecraft, Hellsing, Blade, Underworld, etc. As for the fandom inspired RPs, I am more than willing to bend some rules and be a little indulgent. Writing: 3rd person perspective. My writing is wide-ranging and flexible, which means that frequently, word count will go up 1000+ per reply - though it highly depends on the given situation and partner. Quality over quantity as they say - but why not both? I love detail in description, and I am actively seeking someone of the same infamy. My partner should have a basic grasp on grammar, punctuation and somewhat of an interest in knowledgeable writing. I also double! (preferably, but we can always discuss whether it makes sense for our roleplay our not.) World building and sharing the burden: You should be active and help me shape the world around our characters. Even if we discuss many things during and before the roleplay, how we wish for things to play out and take its course, I am always happy to be surprised with a secret of my partner’s character I didn’t know before. You don’t need to lay out all your cards on the table… keep it a little mysterious and suspenseful. Just enough so we can work with the ideas, but not completely kill off the suspense. Characters: I write canon as well as OC characters. Faceclaims, GIFs, drawings, mood boards or just a plain physical description is absolutely sufficient. Whatever floats your boat when it comes to visualising your character and their backstory, I’m on board. Characters should be written as opulent, flawed, unique, talented, heroic, villainous, spiteful, angry, and everything in-between figures. In other words, don’t be scared of making them ‘human’, even when they are non-human. Romance: Openly play and accept characters of both genders, preferable m x f pairings, but I am open to m x m and f x f relationships as well. I have more experience with m x f relationships, so I might be more savvy with this one. If the chemistry of two characters compel me, I will ship them no matter what! When it comes to sexual scenarios and intimacy (intercourse, foreplay, all that jazz). I encourage erotism, but in a tasteful manner (that goes for romance as well). The passion must be felt through the screen, even if it’s just a mere description of someone’s deep train of thought. Content: Drama, violence, sex, metamorphosis, symbolism, action, romance, pretty much everything is a-okay. I am unbothered by certain subjects that may or may not be uncomfortable for the general public. Roleplays are fictional stories and we best keep viewing them as such. If there are things you are uncomfortable with, name them and I shall respect those boundaries. But don’t be surprised when suddenly one of our characters bites the dust, or gets tortured. It may be difficult to write and read, but it is all part of the story and furthering the plot. My roleplays imply and involve brutality, mayhem, psychological and physical torture as well as other things. But I also endorse beauty, serenity and placid moments, scenes or characters. I love it when it comes full circle… everyone- and everything has their beautiful and hideous side. Both should be embraced. Communication and friendship: OOC-chat friendly! I love meeting new people and making potential friends. Plus it strengthens the compatibility between us. Communication is the alpha and the omega. If there is something that bothers you, or if you think you are left out in some way (be it a mistake on my part or we’re both at fault here), don’t be scared of telling me. Really, it won’t be taken personally - since I know that we slip up every now and then, we’re only human after all. It is also completely sufficient if you only type out a few messages per week. I am super chill about it. It doesn’t bother me re-writing a scene to fit the narrative more. If there are mistakes, they can be corrected - just to get that out there. We can always exchange opinions and see what would benefit the story most. I will also voice my opinion should something arise that could be bothersome. World building and plotting: An active roleplayer is wanted without a doubt. Can’t do the thinking for two now. Let’s row this boat together. Limits: Subject matters I won’t touch are pedophilia, bestiality, necrophilia, vore, scat, furries and some other bizarre fetishes. Also no one-liners or text-talk messages. The sentences have to be cohesive, coherent and decently structured. 
 
Now a little more information about myself. I live in CET central Europe. My response rate varies throughout the weeks, depending on my schedule. 
I study at a university full time and work a job on the side and both are keeping me fairly busy. My writing will increase most likely during the weekends. If I should hit a hiatus, I will inform you as soon as possible. I understand when you are busy as well and are not able to respond, though I prefer if my partner does not ghost me. At least let me know what’s going on so I can adjust and put the roleplay on hold if needed!  
Mediums I roleplay on are email and googledocs. Though I also have Discord in case for OOC chat! Preferably my partner would message me first on email, giving me a brief description of themselves, their cravings as well as ideas. That way I can see if we’re compatible or if this bears any potential. After that we can easily move to Discord and carry out our chats / conversation there.

[supercasey]

Nomad of Nowhere Episode 12, Season 1 Finale Thoughts

Jesus Christmas, it’s finally here! Time for me to go ape-shit! ((This is really long and I’m sorry for that, so just skip to the bottom if you want to see Actual Theories (TM), but otherwise the top part is just me live-blogging the episode.))

The Nomad looked so offended when that Dandy Lion tried to get him off his pinata horse.

The miscommunication among the crowd... God, I love this fucking show.

Seriously, I can’t get over the fact that the Nomad can’t talk and everyone just tries to figure out what he’s trying to say regardless. He’s trying so hard. I love how he keeps getting increasingly frustrated.

I love Barty. He immediately just goes for the shins and I adore him. Also, him and his dad teaming up to fight the system is a Mood.

tHE DANDY LIONS, I LOVE THEM. THEY’RE JUST ROCKING OUT AS THE REVOLUTION BEGINS AROUND THEM. NEVER CHANGE, BOYS. NEVER FUCKING CHANGE.

Don Paragon: *kicking the Nomad out the window* “YEET!”

Damn. Just... burning down everybody’s houses. That’s harsh.

I love Skout... that’s it. I love her.

The two Dandy Lions having a romantic evening tho... that’s a Mood.

Skout’s so authoritative! Gosh, wonder where she learned that from... ;3c

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again- Red Manuel is an interesting character! I want to see more from him! He has a wife that’s shitty to him and an even shittier mom! Let him grow to be something more!

Never mind, he just got fuckin’ launched. Damn, Skout, that was savage.

sHE FREED HER CRUSH!! YES!!!

The Nomad just... throws his own fucking leg at him. Iconic.

Look, I know that he can’t fight with swords and that’s why he tossed it aside, but him standing there with that sword... I need to see him learn to fight with swords, guys, pLEASE!

rOCK FRIEND SUIT! IT’S A SUIT MADE OF FRIENDS TO PROTECT THEIR FRIEND!!!

sKOUT!!!

((No joke, I audibly gasped when Skout got crushed by the billboard)).

It’s... it’s a FUCKING WIG!?

Don Paragon: “My wig!!! sNATCHED!!!”

I know that someone already commented that it was hot to watch Toth break a sword WITH HER FOOT, but... it was Hot.

She’s just going and going. I fucking love Toth so much, I can’t wait for her to someday join the Nomad Protection Squad... she will kick ass.

DO NOT. HURT. THE LITTLE ROCK. HE IS SURRENDERING AND YOU NEED TO RESPECT THAT.

No eyes. That’s weird.

Now it’s Nomad’s turn to yeet.

The Nomad’s so goddamn small compared to everyone else (save for Skout). I... love him.

sKOUT! MY HERO!

Skout is so cute and lovely... she doesn’t want to take any of the credit, but the Nomad won’t let her forget that she’s a hero. I... love these kids.

Toth is struggling so hard to fight Skout... God, RT, please give them a happy ending by the end of this series, they deserve some happiness.

HE CONTROLLED THE STATUE WITH HIS CHEST! IT GLOWED! IS IT BECAUSE HE KNOWS THAT THE STONE’S THERE!? RT, I NEED ANSWERS!!!

Toth looked so scared before she got hit! Don’t hurt her!

The thumbs up... I love him.

I love the old dude just fuckin’ CHUGGING water like it’s alcohol... you go, old dude, you go.

The sheriff is a dad to all these kids... you can’t change my mind. Also, I used to at least find the glasses wearing kid annoying (he still kinda is) but I’m growing to like them a lot! Hope to see these kids again next season!

The Dandy Lions!!! I love them all so much, I pray to fuck they’ll be around in season 2 even though Don Paragon’s been vored.

Ah... yes... That.

I can’t... believe... that this is actual fucking vore.

Literally, El Rey said he’s “Hungry”... I’m deceased.

My reasonable sister: “Maybe we’ve taken the vore joke a bit too far?” Me: “I don’t care.”

tOTH RUN! FUCKING RUN!!!

((Yo, I’mma light this post up with ideas I’m REELING))

So his chest is still gonna glow when he does good deeds? Is it gonna restore itself/put up shields around the stone to keep it from getting damaged? I really wish we had seen what happened to the stone after episode 9- it seems like it’s fine but I’m still worried about it. Straw ain’t gonna stop a bullet, fam.

Skout and Nomad... look, I know the theory’s been more than disproved, but I still think they’ve got a good sibling-like dynamic going on. I’ve seen some folks saying that the Nomad might start acting as a dad to her and... I dunno, I just don’t see it. So I’m gonna stick with them as siblings.

And that’s that! Hyped for whenever season 2 is announced!

Me going into more detail/theories below:

The Nomad making the statue come to life DEFINITELY shows us a few things. 1, he’s getting better with his magic. Remember the watermill? Remember how terribly that went? The kid’s learning to control bigger things. SPEAKING OF WHICH- 2, he can control it! That’s wild! So ARE they at all sentient? Because in episode 5 it seemed to hint at the fact that they were their own beings, but this says otherwise. Are some sentient? Are some not? RT, I need answers.

I’m so glad that Skout saved herself this episode! Like, I was so certain that she was gonna get really hurt by that billboard, but nope! She’s up and at ‘em in no time flat! Sign me the FUCK UP for the Nomad being a damsel in distress and Skout swooping in to save him! ((Also, for those who ship Nomad/Skout... I’m really not into the ship since I spent so long thinking they were siblings, but I can’t deny that y’all got a lot of fodder this episode. Y’all have fun with that.))

El Rey communicates through crows, huh? I think... I think someone actually guessed that??? At one point??? (May’ve been on Amino), But either way, that’s fucking neat as hell! It also leaves the door open for some underhanded bullshit... imagine if during Skout and Nomad’s adventures, they come across an injured crow? They’re both sweethearts so OF COURSE they take care of it, but what is this? It talks? And it knows the way to safety? Well, let’s follow our new friend! (Cue some heartbreak).

Looks like Toth’s still on the path of evil (or at least of antagonist). I’m really psyched to see if she’ll be getting magical powers. I’ve heard a few people throwing around that lightning abilities would be cool, but what about fire? ((Mostly I wanna see fire because it could remind the Nomad of Melinda so Skout has to save him and maybe we’d get some more flashbacks??? Sign me the fuck up, fam)).

Now that we’re back on the road, I’m hoping we’ll see more bounty hunter type characters. Will they be personally hired by El Rey? Or will the bounty hunter interactions be replaced by Skout and the Nomad knowingly looking for trouble by taking on El Rey’s men? I’m excited either way.

I’m sure there’s more shit I’ll go on about later, but I’ve got work today, so I’ll wait to get into it tomorrow. With a majority of the fandom having to wait a week (or two for the Youtubers) for the new episode, it looks like this fandom’ll still be kicking for a bit before Hiatus Hell kicks in. Hopefully that means we’ll all have time to theorize (and write fics) before the new season hits! I’m so HYPED!!!

[thistleandthorn-rpg]

Congrats Tyler on your new character: Christian Clarington - townsperson.

OOC INFORMATION:

Name/Alias: Tyler Preferred pronoun: He/Him Age (Must be 20+): 25 Timezone/Country: EST RP Experience: Y’all know. Activity Level: 7/10

IC INFORMATION:

Name: Christian Clarington Designation: Dominant Age: 24 Claim: NPC Faceclaim: Nolan Gerard Funk Orientation: Pansexual Occupation: CEO of Clarington & Pax; a thriving business firm based out of New York City, New York. Kinks: TPE, humiliation, breath-play, role-play, public-play, muscle worship, voyeurism, exhibitionism, open to anything not on the anti-kink list. Anti-Kinks: Scat, Vore, Water-Play, Cutting, Permanent injury or disfigurement

Key Points:

Cold and distant

Arrogant, cocky and vain

Possessive/Over-Protective

Independent, a natural-born leader

BIO

Christian grew up in the lap of luxury, and he worked hard to stay there. Being a Clarington came with a lot of challenges. He had three brothers, all of which were bound for the military by the time they neared the end of their high school experience. For Christian; as athletic as he was, as well suited for combat as he was, he couldn’t have been less interested in serving. This pissed his father off; who, as a colonel, wanted all his sons to follow in his foot-steps. Christian was never one to abide by anyone’s rules, though. He’d been categorized from an early age as a lone-wolf. He played football and other sports just because he thought he was supposed to, but at the end of the day Christian was content with being alone and quite frankly found nearly everyone else; his family included to be beneath him in intelligence and depth. While that might be entirely true, it couldn’t be denied that Christian was gifted. He never scored lower than a 95% on anything. He was the Valedictorian, naturally - and went on to accept a full ride to NYU to pursue business. This, of course, was against Christian’s fathers’ wishes. However, there wasn’t anything to be done. It was a full-ride, so Christian’s fathers’ money wouldn’t be needed, and Christian had long-since tapped into his trust fund and withdrew those funds so that he had enough to survive on his own for at least the duration of his college education. In the cold fashion that was Christian’s style, he bid his family good-bye with little more than a nod and left for New York, more-or-less content with the idea of going solo for the rest of his life.

As expected, Christian flew through college with near-perfect marks and graduated in record-time at the top of his class. Soon after, he joined forces with one of his few friends to start a financial services firm. Christian had built a reputation for himself amongst his peers, so it only took about six months for them to gain traction. There was one bump in the road, of course - and that was the fact that Christian had to enroll in a BDSM academy like everyone else. He settled on an academy just across the river in Jersey and attacked his education there at a hurried pace. He didn’t disagree with the system, per say. He was pleased with his mark, and when he wasn’t bogged down by work, he loved sex - especially when it called for him to be in control (and it always did). Still, finding a claim was so insignificant to Christian in the grand scheme of things. He wanted it for status, more than anything - but also, he just wanted to get back to his life without any rules; where he was his own boss.

That opportunity came soon enough. He met a submissive girl at the institute and they hit it off as much as he’d ever hit it off with anyone before. Her name was Juliet. She was gorgeous, well-mannered and thankfully, very quiet. She never gave him trouble and quickly enough, he started a trial with her and soon their claim was legitimized. After that, they both graduated and left the academy and moved into Christian’s penthouse on the Upper East Side overlooking Central Park. Finally, all seemed well. …That was, until Juliet started to speak up. Evidently, she hated city life. Christian had never gotten that deep with her, considering the fact that most of their interactions were carnal and hyper-sexual. She was a small-town girl and actually had family in some cow-town in Ohio. She was discontent, and Christian knew what a discontented submissive could eventually lead to; claim dissolution. He couldn’t bear having to find another claim, so he caved and purchased a luxurious apartment (well, as luxurious as Ohio can offer, anyway) out in Lima. Now, he and his submissive live there part-time. During the week, Christian boards his private jet and flies back to Manhattan for work, and then he returns to Lima in a desperate effort to keep his claim together. Time will tell if his efforts are in vain, but all he can do at this point is hope for the best.

BIO QUESTIONS :

Describe your occupational journey and how you got to where you are.  

In a phrase, my occupational journey can be described as a steady rise to the top. I won’t say that I came from nothing, because I didn’t. That said, I’ve built myself into something no one neither expected nor encouraged. While money has never been an issue, I’ve put in a great deal of effort into my education, my networking skills and my talent in the field of business. So, in answer to your question; I got to where I am through hard work, dedication and natural skill. It’s as simple as that.

How would you describe yourself as a Dominant/submissive?

I’m about as definitively Dominant as one can get. I’ve heard horror stories about the system failing people in their mark assignments and luckily that wasn’t the case for me. I’m strict, structured and communicative. I leave nothing to be desired when it comes to informing my submissives of my expectations. Further, I’d like to think that any submissive under my care is thoroughly taken care of physically, sexually and otherwise. Try to find a better Dominant than myself, I dare you.

How do you feel about authority?

I’m just fine with authority when I’m the one taking that role. I detest being told what to do; hence my ambitions to start my own business. I am my own boss, through and through; that mentality bleeds out of my occupational career and into my day-to-day life, as well.

[nommy-thoughts]

Hi, OwO from earlier. I meant, like, in the top part of your blog, 'Feel free to ask questions about any and all of my characters!' And I wanted to hear about any of them.

Okay! In that case, I will take this as an opportunity to ramble about literally all of them. Jason and Dan, Tom and Reggie, Aji and Mitz, Candy, and Mike and his friends.

Jason and Dan

Jason looks human, but he very much is not. He’s some sort of… I don’t know, a criptid of my own invention, I guess. Kinda like a vampire? He can’t eat normal food, only feed off of people’s energy. It doesn’t hurt the person he’s feeding off of in any way, but it is definitely a weird experience, because the only way Jason can absorb said energy is by shrinking people and swallowing them whole.

(technically, it doesn’t have to be human energy. But that’s what works best.)

It only takes a touch for him to shrink someone, and he instinctively knows how to do it. It doesn’t automatically happen when he touches someone, but if he’s hungry and gets startled, it can happen by accident. And once he’s done it, the person becomes only 1/24th of their original height. (For example, someone who’s 5 feet tall normally would become 2.5 inches tall, and someone who’s 6 feet tall normally would become 3 inches tall.)

And of course he can restore people to their normal height again. It takes rather more energy to make someone bigger than to shrink them, though, and he has to have a person in his stomach for at least a while to not have a net loss of energy. 

Now, Jason was abandoned in the forest as a baby, and got by entirely on woodland creatures. Dan happened to wander into Jason’s territory one day, and didn’t have much time to be confused about this grubby naked child before Jason ate him.

Which was terrifying.

But Jason’s stomach is nothing like a regular stomach. The only opening is on the top, for one thing. And it’s covered with soft hairlike things, much like the villi in your intestines, which glow a greenish blue as they siphon energy, so after a few minutes, Dan was able to see his surroundings. And it wasn’t slimy or wet. He eventually fell asleep.

After Jason released Dan, he left, but he kept coming back, and even though Jason kept eating him, he stopped being frightened by the experience.

And then he kinda adopted Jason! So now Jason lives with him, and Dan lets him eat him basically every day. There’s also at least one other person who knows about what Jason is, a coworker of Dan’s who’s about halfway between them in age. He doesn’t mind getting eaten either

—

Tom and Reggie

These two live in a mixed-height society, where humans and minis have equal rights, and while sizeism exists, it’s considered a flavor of racism. Tom is human, and Reggie is a mini, who’s six inches tall. They’re housemates. (also. Tom is nonbinary, and uses they/them pronouns. Reggie’s a guy, he/him.)

Still trying to figure out how their current arrangement got started, considering Reggie is embarrassed to admit he likes it, but the two of them frequently engage in what they call “Games” (yes, with a capital G), which always involve Reggie being inside Tom’s mouth (not all the way, the scale difference isn’t enough for that, but it varies from a finger or two all the way to as much as they can fit at once), and often involve him getting covered with something tasty first. In addition to those, they sometimes do smaller-scale things with maybe a lick or two.

No swallowing, because it wouldn’t be safe in their world, but loads of mouthplay.

They’ve definitely taken the time to sit down together and talk about what they are and aren’t okay with, and they have a safeword in case either gets uncomfortable in the middle of things.  And they make sure to communicate with each other the whole time, when they’re in the middle of it.

Tom’s usually the one to initiate things, and they always check first to make sure that Reggie’s okay with it. Sometimes it’s just something as simple as “May I lick you?” and sometimes it’s laying out the plans for a Game. They usually don’t go into detail, because Reggie likes to be a bit surprised, but Tom might say, “You in the mood for a Game? I had an idea,” and if Reggie was, they might tell him a few of the aspects. (powerplay, foodplay, how much mouthplay it would involve, maybe the kind of food, those such things.) And then they would get into it! Or not, if Reggie didn’t want to do that particular Game after all.

I’m currently working on a story titled ‘Chocolate’, in which there is a fondue pot. And Reggie definitely gets dunked.

He’s also been covered in frosting, been tied up with spaghetti (and accidentally broke several noodles before Tom could bite them off, cooked spaghetti does not make a strong rope), sat in Tom’s ice-cream on a hot summer day, and lounged in more of Tom’s drinks, both hot and cold, than they’ve bothered to count.

Reggie’s sister is aware of their arrangement, which embarrasses Reggie so much, but she doesn’t care what they get up to so long as it’s consensual.

Oh! And I have some art of them! I apparently only have one posted to this blog so far… I’ll have to get on that, cause there are two more. [link]

—

Aji and Mitz

I created Aji for a fanfic of @vore-scientist‘s Mystic Woods stories! (In Which a Giant Wizard Noms a Firewitch) They’re basically a self-insert. Short redheaded li’l nonbinary firewitch. (the firewitch part is not so much a self-insert. That was something Tuitey suggested, to make Aji fit in to that world.)

Mitz is Aji’s giant friend. The two of them have done many noms before, and Aji’s even been swallowed! Only briefly, though, because they don’t want to risk staying in a real stomach for very long. Since Aji is a firewitch, they’re pretty spicy. 

I honestly haven’t developed a lot about these two yet…

Tho!

Aji has a familiar. Her name is Soot, she’s a cat, and she was the one who decided she was gonna be Aji’s familiar, back when she was a kitten. Aji wasn’t even looking for a familiar at the time, but Soot took one look at young Aji and decided, That human is mine. I’m keeping them. So she went right ahead and formed the familiar-witch bond, and next thing Aji knew, this little black ball of fluff was talking to them, and yes it was meows, but it also sounded like words.

Soot’s mom was not so pleased that her kitten had gone and gotten bonded to a witch. Especially a firewitch. Soot’s dad was proud of her, though. (I think he was one of those rough-and-tumble stray cat types, while Soot’s mom was a pampered housecat. Very different backgrounds.) Soot’s mom eventually accepted Aji as her kitten’s witch, though.

Also, Soot is trans. And she thinks that spit is gross and Aji is weird for being okay with being in a mouth.

—

Candy

Alright, so ‘Candy’ was originally not going to be her name, but I’m seriously tempted to name her Candace and have her curse to have been inspired by her name.

Cause Candy was cursed! There was this wizard who was trying to woo a woman who was gay and far more interested in Candy, got pissy that she didn’t like him back, decided that Candy had stolen the affection that was “rightly his,” and cursed her. 

So now Candy is only about an inch tall, immortal, and made of candy. The type of candy she’s made of changes sometimes. (still working on the mechanic of how/why.) She prefers some to others, and hates being gum.

She’s changed hands several times over the years, and is currently in the possession of a college student. She spends a lot of time being oral stimulation for late night studies, but at least the student treats her fairly well. They usually ask permission first, and by this point, Candy’s gotten pretty used to being in a mouth, so she lets them do it as long as they don’t bite down. (It doesn’t hurt, but it’s not a pleasant sensation.)

She’s been swallowed more than once, and she doesn’t like that. It’s groossss.

—

Mike

This one isn’t technically actual vore, but it’s vorish, so I’m including it.

Mike lives in a mixed height world. Maybe it’s the same as Tom and Reggie’s, as the main scale is 1:12, the same as theirs, but maybe it’s not, because there are also smaller tinies, who mostly live off on their own away from the other two sizes.

Mike is one of the smaller tinies. He’s about two inches tall. And he has a mech! It’s a very good mech, and looks like a human. The entire inside of the head is on stabilizers so that no matter which way the mech is oriented, that room is always right-side up. And in the middle of the skull-room, there’s another room, where Mike goes to control the mech. He has to put on a special motion-sensing suit, and the room is filled with a special material that mimics the outside environment. It’s all very complicated and sciencey, and I don’t know where he got it.

Some of Mike’s friends are humans, and some of them are tinies. Regular tinies, not extra-small ones like Mike.

(A scene:

Tiny Friend: Why do you spend all your time inside that mech?

Mike: I’m not about to be out in the open with a bunch of giants!

Tiny Friend: Why not? I do it every day.

Mike: … I don’t think you understand. You’re one of the giants.

)

Now the vorish part! 

In order to make the mech look realistic, there aren’t seams for it to open. Instead, you gotta climb in through the mouth. Mike’s small enough that he can have the mech lying down and just walk through the throat like a hallway, but a regular tiny has to crawl. Or, if the throat is vertical, there’s a ladder built into the side. (though to get past the part at the back of the mouth is very awkward for a regular tiny, because there’s a wall (again, for realistic looking reasons) in front of the ladder there, and Mike can easily climb through that space, but it’s too small for a regular tiny to fit into)

Sometimes, Mike’s friends get overwhelmed from too much stimulus, and they need somewhere quiet to relax again. If the overwhelmed friend is a tiny, and there isn’t somewhere else available (or sometimes if there is), Mike will let them chill inside his mech with him, either in the torso area (which is a storeroom) or in his room in the head. (They’re allowed to sit on his bed, but because they’re three times his size, they can’t fit to lie down.) Which, of course, looks like he’s swallowing them.