#pred is a peaceful being

[teal-fiend]

a pred who is domesticated and soft and they've never had to fight for their meals.

with observers/ prey who talk mad shit because they can hide behind their pred. or they tell people that the pred will beat them up if they say so

but the pred is like, "no please i cant fight. all i do is eat people"

[exploding-car-hammer]

now that i've spammed and am for sure getting fucking banned, i will talk about Matt and why what he did is fucking disgusting and horrendous

many transgender individuals have had safe for work selfies and other pictures of themselves taken down or flagged on account of being nsfw. this is blatant transphobia due to multiple reasons

1. tagging something related to transgender individuals as nsfw when it is clearly sfw helps to perpetuate the bigoted myth that being transgender is a fetish or kink

2. by censoring our existence you are actively preventing us from even trying to defend ourselves from bigotry or attempting to correct stereotypes or harmful misinformation

recently the incidents have crossed the boundary even farther than usual with the banning of predstrogen. she had the thing described above happen to her because it had been mass reported by terfs and other transphobic individuals. after having the photo taken down she made a joke about wishing the ceo of tumblr @photomatt (im for some reason not allowed to tag him anymore) wash in a car crash involving explosions and hammers. he took this joke seriously and decided to do 2 things

1. ban her because he couldn't take a joke amd he couldn't handle having his transphobia called out

2. threatened to call the fbi on her because he couldn't take a joke and couldn't handle being called out

now i don't know if you know this but organizations like the fbi don't particularly have a great history with minorities. so calling them is basically equivalent to Matt walking up to her and shooting her in the face. if the fbi was called it wouldn't be a raid or a peaceful capture, it would be an execution.

and now we move on to what is currently happening. multiple users have been banned for joking about the situation or discussing it and he's attempting to hide evidence of his actions while also lying about what happened. his defensive statements only make him look worse because of his lies and other reasons such as referring to pred as "it" (according to her bio pred uses she/him). this is extreme transphobia and it needs to be pointed out, called out, and discussed. if these things happen we could hopefully see Matt pay for his actions (there's a legitimate legal case against him btw just pointing that out).

anyways im going to be posting this to my cohost and tranfem social accounts because im probably getting banned and i would like what i said here to be preserved.

don't be quiet.

your voice is important in this situation

[izznts]

Hans Kareem + Kyle Rivers & Izzy Oliana

Art from Toulensister (Thank you for the base idea!)

• Finally being able to post all 5 Pred Babes so that is amazing! Soon this year a full non-bellykink digital reference SHEETS will be released with other OCs I have behind the scenes.

I hope you all like the Pred Babes now that you all see them, they're all comical, respectful and extremely hungry all the time. I can finally be at peace and work on their backgrounds and proper stories (or if anyone has asks of them, please do send some)

[lesbianoms]

Hhhh ohh god fuck~ I’m in love with the concept of wlw long term melty digestion 🥵

Imagine two women who are seeing each other and the more dominant one coaxes her submissive partner into being eaten by her… she’s a bit reluctant, but does have to admit… it gives her a “funny feeling” to imagine, and she always wants to make her girlfriend happy… so she sheepishly agrees…

And after she gets swallowed, maybe she’s whining and protesting a bit… with little kicks to the inside of her gf’s big, swollen belly. The pred lets out a belch and rolls her eyes, giving her gut a teasing pat. Always a drama queen, this one. But the pred knows she’ll be fine, and so she stretches across the bed, ready to sleep off her big meal~

Throughout the night, the pred’s stomach gets louder and the prey’s muffled sounds get softer… quieter… subdued <3… she sounds almost peaceful as she gets churned by the belly of her beloved~

It doesn’t hurt, it’s just a bit of a strange experience. She moans from within the rotund belly and whimpers pitifully as her form is melting and bubbling away. And eventually, at some point in the early morning, the sounds stop all together 💕

The pred hums in her sleep and places a hand over her hard-working gut; it’s all soft and sloshy now. Her tummy lets out a long groan in response to being touched. The middle begins to sag, and there’s a big scchlrp… sssqquelch~ as what’s left of her sweet girlfriend collapses beneath those churning stomach walls. All sludge now~ ☠️🫧

In the morning the pred kneads and rubs a much smaller stomach, getting aroused by the feeling of her prey shifting around and slipping deeper into her guts for even more lengthy digestion <3

“See? I’m so happy you came around, darling~”

ggggrrr…rrRRGGL…….

Of course, when her beloved DOES come back, she’ll have to tease her and cuddle her and tell her what a wonderful evening snack she made… but for now she just enjoys her partner’s eventual dedication to making her all soft❤️🥰

[voraciousemo]

ACTOR PRED.

Imagine that, backstage, preparing for a scene with one of your bigger costars, you get scooped up, oh so gently into their warm palms, lifted to their face. Them mumbling a small apology, voice soft, but still loud enough to ring in your ears. They simply couldnt wait until being on stage, besides, you had an understudy for a reason.

Their warm breath fanned over you, yellow eyes focused in as they tilted their hand to their mouth, you carefully climbing in. Their tongue was soft, the humidity in the air obvious as you stretched out, the muscle under you cradling you, savoring your taste as they shut their mouth, a small purr coming from them as they tilted their head back, savoring your taste. Simply put, you wouldnt be stored. No, youd be held in their crop, right by their vocal cords. Theyre a dragon hybrid, getting used to tapking, vibrating your whole form.

When they got on stage, they launched into their lines, you quietly whispering yours along, when your understudy said them. The vibrations were calming...peaceful, even, and you started to drift off...

People would confuse you for an adam's apple, on that show night. And the pred relaxed, knowing you were safe.

[citrus-kiddo]

Loved

Requested: Myself

Features: Moth pred/Firefly prey, half-sized vore, angst/comfort (kinda but not really-)

Word count: 665

Heads up! There's no names explicitly state so here's a little thing to help if you get confused! The firefly - she/her

The moth - they/she

Desiring to be loved was normal, right? Wanting someone to care and worry about you. Love is for everyone right? If that was the case, why was it so hard to find someone to love her? Maybe it was because of the way her antennas stood, or maybe the way she held herself, or maybe it was her light. Probably her light. Her light didn’t glow as bright as the others, others were bright and warm, her’s was dim and bland. Just like her. She wasn’t worth being loved in her own beady eyes. She sighed solemnly, cutting off her thoughts to flutter off into the dark night, she should just clear her head.

She swirled and danced with herself through the night sky, pushing away the saddening thoughts. The smooth pattern of her own circling soothed her, letting her live in peaceful bliss if even for a moment; It was much better than spiraling in her own loathing. Her bliss was soon interrupted by the strange feeling of someone watching her. She looked off into where the darkness stared back before she heard the faint sound of wings flapping.

The sound made her worry, it made her want to flee, to hide, but instead, she just stayed. She didn’t understand why but the gentle beating of the wings… It calmed her. The being showed itself from the thicket of the night, its large void-like eyes contrasting with its beautiful off-white body that reflected the moonlight. The firefly was stunned by the moth’s sudden appearance, and was even more confused by the fact they were approaching her. Why her? She’d seen a group of fireflies not too far from here with much better lights, so why did she approach her?

The moth gently reached out and pulled the firefly close, embracing her into their fluffy body. She didn’t know how to respond but she slowly relaxed into the hug, relaxing enough for the moth to begin to carefully flutter away with the other in their arms. She’d never experience this before… a gentle embrace… a warm body next to hers. It was nice, she didn’t want it to end, so she didn’t give up much of a struggle as she was carried away.

Soon the two arrived at a cozy hollow in a tree, the moth slowly lowering to the floor, still gently cradling the firefly. They stared at the gentle light emanating from her new companion, letting out a gentle purr as they leaned closer to the little. She looked a little confused by the affection from the moth. Their fascination with her light made her feel odd.. Why was she so.. Gentle with her? It was just another disappointing part of her body, so why did she care?

Suddenly, the moth scooped her from her lower set of arms into her upper arms, bringing her closer to their maw. As their mouth slowly opened, the firefly felt… not fear? It was strange, she was seemingly about to be eaten and yet, she wasn’t scared. She felt safe… as if she was about to be safely tucked away… and that’s something she didn’t mind. First her head was gently slid in, passing down the moth’s gullet with the rest of her body following, her light slowly fading as it vanished from the outside world.

The moth let out a content sigh, staring at her abdomen as it slowly bloated with her little light filled it. She noticed their little friend’s light had stopped glowing had stopped, which worried her. She began to gently rub her belly in a circular motion. Gentle circle… those were nice… this is nice… this is safe… As the firefly settled, the beloved glowing returned. The moth smiled as she gently rested their mitts on their wooly stomach. The two fell into a comfortable silence as the firefly was cradled within the stomach of her new admirer. She was cared for. She was worried about…

She was loved.

The End

[mawsnclaws]

In honor of school letting out, here's some Stanley Palatable predcanons for you. Expect more uploads for various fandoms soon <3

NARRATOR:

- He's the most stuck up pred you've ever met, but the most insistent on eating you.

- He refuses to eat you if you have shoes or a jacket on. He thinks they're "too dirty" and will refuse to even let you near his mouth.

- Adventure line tongue? Adventure line tongue! If you decide to follow the Adventure line, you may end up in a bit of a..situation.

- If you fall into something he may be eating or drinking, don't expect him to help you out. You're on your own now. Just hope you can avoid being eaten long enough to find a way out.

- Don't mention him eating you to anyone else because he'll just brush you off and get embarassed. "Oh dear where did you ever come up with a thing like that?" Before you're snatched up and shoved into his pocket.

- He uses the time he has you in his stomach to get things done. He's always making sure you're safe and not doing anything stupid- he rarely has time to work on the Parable or his writing. His best bet is just to swallow you down and take some time for himself.

- Biiig fan of fear/fearplay, even if you hate it. He's really bad at knowing just when to stop so he often does go overboard- but he tries his hardest to make up for it in any way he knows how afterwards.

- His stomach is either like the zen room or bright yellow! Depends on how he's feeling. It growls a lot- on purpose mostly. He thinks it "adds to the tone" when in reality it's just nice white noise.

STANLEY:

- Surprisingly worried pred, constantly prodding at his stomach to try and make sure that you're ok.

- Needs constant reassurance that you're fine and he tries to find different ways to talk to you since he can't speak.

- Mostly eats you to give you a break from The Narrator. He's gentle and quiet- something that The Narrator isn't. He genuinely enjoys being this close to you.

- Enjoys it when you rub the inside of his stomach!

- His stomach is a duller grey-ish pale yellow, it's not harsh on your eyes which is nice. His stomach doesn't growl as much and when it does it's pretty quiet.

- After he eats you, he tries to settle down in a place where he wouldn't move much. His chair, the break room, somewhere peaceful like that. He doesn't want to disturb the little bit of "alone time" that you get.

THE CURATOR:

(this one is mainly for me. happy pride month yall. I LOVE WOMEN.)

- She is a very no nonsense pred. She won't eat you without permission but she doesn't like it if you squirm or struggle.

- She mainly eats Mariella, but if you ask her politely enough and you catch her on a good day, she absolutely will eat you.

- Her stomach is a gentle blue-purple color and it's very quiet. Most of the time she'll gently hum while working, or make small conversation, but other than that it's silent.

- Sometimes she likes to gossip about The Narrator. Nothing harmful at all, just silly little quips about her "airhead" coworker.

- Sometimes she'll dangle you between her fingers (neatly manicured blue nails.. 😋) before she eats you. She's silly and indulgent sometimes.

MARIELLA:

(this is also mostly for me. I just. love women. a lot. 😭)

- THE YAPPER EVER. She will NOT shut up once she eats you. She sees this as an opportunity to talk and talk without any interruptions. She talks about everything. Hair, nails, the weather, her job- everything.

- Her stomach is pink! It's a muted pink but it's very nice. It growls a lot but not nearly as much as The Narrator's.

- Sometimes you'll just get picked up and eaten with no explanation and she'll start chatting away. It's mostly when she's bored and has nobody else to talk too.

- She's not one for fear but she does like to dangle and tease occasionally.

- Sometimes she won't even eat you, she'll just hold you in her mouth for awhile while she paints her nails or does makeup- or on the rare occasion that she actually gets stuff done, some paperwork.

- She'll fall asleep without explanation at times. One moment she'll be talking and the next she's fast asleep.

[methylphenidate-already-taken]

Hmmmm. Reversing a more typical situation for vore day? Small naga getting rescued from another animal or the elements by a lost pred hiker. Only if you want to!

Happy vore day everyone! Take my two assholes in a "meet cute"

CW: for cussing, near death experience, and implied s*x work (Prey participating in vore for survival or money)

Contains: Soft safe endo vore with size difference. Naga prey and ??? Pred.

She was going to freeze to death out here. She was freezing to death out here. Beatrice was already cold blooded, which made her tail that much more susceptible to freezing solid. It was out of the question now, leaving her tiny hands to claw into the snow and pull her forward in a desperate attempt to get her out of… she didn’t even know where she was. Her last consumer had reformed her here and left her to die. His smug cackle sill rang in her ears over the howling wind. Once the predator was bored of her pleas, he had left not bothering to witness the end.

Beatrice had given up on wiping her tears. Moving forward took precedence over being able to see. Her eyes now frozen shut. She knew it was foolish to chase non-existent safety, and that perhaps her final moments should be filled with prayer, or reflection, some peace making.

She was going to freeze to death out here, but she didn’t. She couldn’t see the shadow looming over her, or hear his footsteps in the snow. It was only when a large bony hand plucked the naga up did she know someone was there.

Now, warm breath washes over her, and Bee knows exactly how high off the ground she is.

“H-Hello?” She quivers out

“So, you are alive. I had thought those might have been the final muscle spasms” the voice speaks. There’s an unnatural resonance to it. 

“Yes-! I’m alive!” she cries, it sounds more like a whimper

“Do you feel me touching your tail?” He asks 

“No…“ 

“Then I won’t straighten it out, much too brittle,” another puff of warm air washes over her, “You’re not shivering…. Truly, on the brink” He sounds amused. 

“Please…” She begs. She can’t feel the tongue under her tail, or see the the smug smile on the lips she’s passing through, “Fuck, please, just Help me! I p-provide many services. They’re all yours just-” She can’t feel it, but she can hear the swallow that drags part of her tail into the stranger’s throat, and that cuts off her cries. “Thank you…!” No one swallows then chews, Beatrice knows she’s in the clear. More swallows and a stubborn gunt make her feel a twinge of anxiety. This guy might ask some big favors given the trouble, but that would be worth her life. Once his tongue meets her skin it feels like it’s burning, an inferno compared to the frost bite. Again, she cries out, but it leaves as a whimper. The warmth quickly melts the ice on her eyes, but she can barely see anything through the freshly flowing ears, just the familiar shape of a mouth, and teeth closing in front of her. Then it all goes dark and she can't tell when she actually passes out.

------

Beatrice wakes up still within a stomach, presumably the one she had last remembered being in. It’s hard to tell these days. It seems typical. Dark, slimy, warm… Beatrice wiggles her fingers.  

“Awake, are we?” The smooth voice she had heard before speaks from above, “that was quite the ordeal.” It takes a moment before she computes that he’s talking to her. 

“You felt that?” she says. 

“Yes, I feel your breathing, too” He replies. 

“Are you somewhere safe?” Beatrice asks. 

“Yes, but I’m not letting you out quite ye-” 

“Of course,” She’s already started to press her hands into the flesh around her. This one must be quite big, It doesn't feel too snug. “You deserve a reward for saving me~”

“Do not…! Cut me off.” He snaps “and stop that!”

“Oh come on, if you’re that sensitive doesn’t it feel good?” This is how Beatrice survives, this is how she has always survived, and no doubt what will keep her afloat now. 

“No, you fool, I want you to rest!” 

“Oh,” The woman’s hands fall.

“You are exhausted. recover.” 

Is he serious??

“Not much choice, I guess.” 

“Not unless you chose to keep touching me like that, in which case it will have been a waste of time saving your life” 

Beatrice smirked, it was always funny when they tried to threaten her life with digestion… speaking of which. 

“Have you eaten? It’s empty in here, and further down sounds pretty hollow.” 

“No” He replies curtly 

"Will yo-"

“No” He replies, curtly 

Beatrice clears her throat, “... What’s your name?”

The lungs above her fill from a sharp inhale, and for a moment she thinks she’s not going to get an answer. 

“I don’t quite know yet,” Her gut says he’s telling her the truth, “What’s yours?”

“Bee,” Beatrice replies “It’s good to meet you, I Don’t Quite Know Yet.” 

“Very funny,” He says sarcastically, “I’m done talking, keep resting.”  

“What? Just like that?” She asks 

“Just like that” 

“I-” 

“Sush” 

She resigns, going limp within the belly of the stranger. It’s dark, slimy, warm… Comforting. No expectations, just for a little while. For once, this stupid, smothering, noisy organ was doing something for her instead. The heart above her wasn’t racing, or the lungs panting for air. No frantic movements or smothering hands. She didn’t trust it, not for a second. But nothing changed, and the worn naga drifted back into sleep.  

[makothegayyburrito]

Vore prompt: #3

The prey is relaxing and taking a nap in their preds tum, all is peaceful before the pred suddenly sneezes really loud and causes the prey to be woken up in a startled panic to the loud noise and vibration from the sneeze

The pred frantically apologizes for waking them up, even being able to feel them shaking within them from the pure shock of it all. They reassure the prey that their alright and softly talks to them as the prey falls back asleep, making sure that their all settled back into their nap

[marksbear]

Hello there! Could I request Aaron Hotchner x male reader

basically, when the reader was a kid he was a victim to a kidnapping (where he got tortured and shi) which he escapes and it still haunts him years later. While being in the bau he doesn’t tell anyone about it until an unsub comes into play that’s basically a copycat of the readers kidnapper (like same kinds of victims, same way of killing/kidnapping etc) and it kinda all unfolds from there. and ofc Aaron comforts the reader and the unsub is taken down because we love happy endings 🙏

but take your time home boy! Drink water and rest 👍👍

Yoo whats good thank you for requesting big fella! I love your request and I am more than happy to write this!

warnings! Child pred unsubs, kidnapping, topics of rape, torturer, fighting punishing, killing, fighting for a life, sexual assault on a minor. ANGST TO A WHOLE DIFFERENT LEVEL

side note I didn't know whether to make this platonic or romantic so I ran with romantic SO I hope you don't mind if you wanted to make this platonic just ask and i'll do it.

AARON HOTCHNER X MALE READER

PAST.

You were only twelve. You were walking to your "Girlfriend" at the time house. You made sure to look nice since you were gonna meet her parents. The street was quiet and peaceful like always nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"SOMEONE PLEASE HELP! MY DOG IS DROWNING!! HELP" A woman shouts from the nearby pond. You looked around to see if there was anyone else to help the dog but once you didn't see anyone you took matters into your own hands.

You run to the pond taking off your shoes and socks jumping into the water to save the dog. It took you a while to get the dog out of the water because the dog is all wet and more heavy now two because you were only a twelve year old boy.

Once you get the dog out of the water the woman thanks you profusely. Like the cocky boy you were you smirked and said "Anytime lady. That was a piece of cake!" The woman laughs and hugs you tightly taking something out of her sleeve before stabbing you with it.

Out of pure shock you swung her on her right on her face with a right hook. The woman gasps and holds her cheek "How dare you boy! Wait until my husband hears about this!"

You took off with a sprint running as fast as you can. But sadly your twelve year old body couldn't out run a dog. The dog had tackled you on the floor dropping all of their body weight on you trapping you on the floor.

"Naughty boy... Lets go home and see how your father is gonna punish you for hitting mommy."

Your version became blurry and body limp then suddenly it went dark.

TIMESKIP

You woke up gasping for air hands that went to your neck. You looked around the place you were in and it looked like the inside of a box. You stood up head feeling woozy.

"I told you he was the one Matthew I mean look at him! Hes our perfect boy~" You snap your way to where the voice came from. You backed away staring at the two shaking. "Don't be scared baby! Were only mama and daddy." The woman says smiling getting off her husband's lap.

"Yeah son. Come here and give daddy a kiss."

"W-what!?! I'm not your SON!" Y/n screams at the odd pair but quickly shuts his mouth once the woman gets the dog. "This is your sister Ali. Shes a trained hunter and you are the size of a mouse to which she can easily hurt. To avoid getting in trouble do what your daddy tells you!" The tone in her voice changes so as her mood.

Trembling you walk to the man and give him a quick peck on the cheek. The man laughs and points at his lips "No son you're so silly. I mean lips son give daddy a kiss on the lips." He cups your face pulling you in for a kiss but you were quicker.

You claw him in the eyes and make a run for it pushing the woman out of your way. "ALI! GO GET HIM!" The dog chases you lunging for your legs before you make it to the stairs you let out a blood curdling scream.

Your body falls to the ground. Your left leg bleeding profusely. You scream and cry scratching the floors nails probably ripping and tearing off fingertips bleeding.

Ali bits and drags both legs like they were toys marking both of them for the rest of your life.

You feel your body getting picked up but gets slammed back down in a fast pace repeating the action until your head is bleeding and face and teared up and bloody.

You lay in your own puddle of blood crying and screaming for help. "MATTHEW STOP IT! You're making a bad impression with our boy~ Let me get him all cleaned up for supper." The woman picks you up taking you out of your misery.

TIMESKIP WARNING!! THE WOMAN IS TRYING TO TAKE ADVANTAGE OF READER AND TRIES TO TOUCH HIM. SKIP IF YOU DON'T WANNA READ

She was washing you like you were six. She treated you so gently and kindly but she couldn't take her eyes off of your private area. You tried to cover yourself but every time your hands get pushed away. "Baby I am your mother. I gave birth to you It's nothing new. But you sure did get bigger." Tears overcome your eyes making them look like a doll. You learned from your real father to "Never let someone else see your private area. Even Mommy and me. Until you find the right one okay Y/n?" Those words of your father made you keep hiding your area every time she looked making her get more and more annoyed.

"Stop it! Ok Stop it! I don't want you looking at me like that okay!!" You finally fight back and scream at her. The woman stares at you shocked but backs off and walks away.

OKAY THE PART IS DONE!!!

It has been months of getting tortured and pretending to be someone your not and you decide enough is enough. Today is the day. You have been planning this escape for weeks now and it's time to take action. You found a way to lock Ali in the bathroom while you launch your plan to escape.

You hide in a nearby closet waiting for your mom to get in the basement as her daily routine to check up on you. Once you do you pounce on her making sure to cover her mouth as you fight for your life. You punch her on her neck rapidly with full force no doubt making your knuckles bruise.

Even though she was bigger and probably stronger than you. You used the element of surprise as a way to get her. Once she gets tired and weak you take off her shoe using it to smash her in her head. Finally she got unconscious. You take off your shirt and tie her in the most creative knot you thought of and ran upstairs shutting the door behind you and locking it.

Now it's only you and your "Father" You took off your own shoes to go around the house quiet. You learned it from all of the not so p-g movies you and your brother watch. You see your father in his office back towards the wide open door headphones on probably in one of his meetings. You find a couple vases before slowly stalking behind him smashing one hard in the middle of his head. He turns around fast but falls back once you land another one in his face. He lands on the floor hard. You stand above him before raising the third vase over your head before using all of your strength bringing it down onto his head.

Blood on your hands and on the floor and glass covering the room. You look at his phone and a journal before taking it walking out of the house calling 9-1-1 telling them the address as you sit on the porch. After that you pick up the journal and read it. It's all about you. Your height what's your real name and all the things they have done to you in full detail every single day even the way you got kidnapped. You call up your parents "Hey momma...Hey daddy it's me Y/n."

PRESENT

"Agent L/n." -Hotch

"Hey L/n"- Emily

"Daddy you there?"- Of course Morgan asks that earning a glare from Hotch because of the nickname.

"Uh Y/n?" - Spencer

"Is he okay?"- Penelope

You look around and give out a weak laugh. "Uhh sorry. Didn't mean to space out like that." You give them a weak apology rubbing the back of your head.

"You okay? you never spaced out like that. Especially for that long." Gideon points out full of worry. "Yeah i'm good trust me. It's just that the unsubs kinda freak me out."

"Okay i'll give you that one I mean cmon. The victims look exactly like you. Same hair, hair color, eyes, height and all boys. They all fit just like you if you were younger. " Reid rambles pointing out at all of the similarities.

Does he know? No he couldn't know. I mean you were famous in your state for being the survivor or the "Gods son" what your town called you before leaving the state to start fresh. You hated that nickname with such a passion. If you were God's son why the hell did he let you get abused and touched like that SO YOUNG. You were only twelve for crying out loud.

You stared at Reid studying him with a glare. You refused to be outed like this. Not now not here. You became shaking from overthinking.

Then a sheriff comes in with a newspaper dropping it on the round table. "Here this is useful." The team circles around the table reading the title of the newspaper. "God's son? The boy who survived it all." Hotch reads out eyeing the sheriff. "Read it front and back." The sheriff tells the team.

No.No...NO this can't be happening. All of the years and makeup hiding the scars. You wore layers and gloves and long socks to hide the markings. You wore long sleeves to hide the markings that were covered into you saying "Mommy and Daddy." You weren't ready for this. Hell you were never gonna be ready for this.

"Twelve year old Y/n L/n survived ten months of torture, pretending and rape. From a wealthy couple named Matthew Powell and Sarah Powell. The kid who fought for his life and ended up winning." Reid says giving a short summary to the team. The room got quiet with so much tension. Before Reid keeps reading. "The boy still has the scars from everything from that tragic event. Even dog bite markings on his legs from the family dog Ali. And also he carries the journal Matthew owns. The journal has documentation of everything Y/n did or what they did to him even the way they captured the boy "

Gideon raises his hand up signaling Reid to stop reading further. "L/n. Do you know what's going to happen to the boy next. If the unsubs are truly copycats we need to know what they're gonna do to the boy next. The unsubs have been having him for seven days. What did they do to you on the seventh day?" The sheriff asks you but you don't answer only reaching for your bag taking out the journal and hands it to Hotch.

"I keep it with me everywhere I go. I already have to carry the scars everyday so why not carry the story." Y/n says leaning into the hug that Derek gives him. "Everyone can't waste time. Currently their taking him to the park so we have to hurry!" Hotch tells everyone. The team all get up and head out to the cars.

"L/n wait." Hotch says making sure everyone is out before shutting the door locking it and shutting the blinds. "I--im so sorry Aaron!" Y/n chokes out getting out of the chair hugging Aaron as tightly as he can. "Shhh... Its okay Y/n. You didn't do anything wrong baby." Aaron says trying to ease his boyfriend. Y/n cries onto Aaron clinging to him for dear life as Aaron tries to ease him and calm him down. Once Y/n cries became sniffles Aaron pulls him away from him kissing him deeply.

Y/n melts into the kiss. The kisses helps him calm down and get himself back together.

TIMESKIP.

You stare the unsubs down gun pointing at the wife's head. "On your knees." The woman puts her hands in the air kneeling down before you. The victim its behind you holding onto you for dear life.

You had gotten to the playground early before the team even though with the short start. You already took down the guy. Hes handcuffed all bloody and messed up from you. When you had seen him you saw Matthew instead of the other man and you went animistic. You tackled him on the ground and began to punch him repeatedly and hit him with your gun knocking him out and hand cuffed him.

You held the woman to gun point if she didn't let the boy go to which she did and now shes on her knees before you. The only person you saw was Sarah the woman who caused you all of this pain and suffering. You wanted nothing more just to kill her with your bare hands to finish the job all those years ago.

Your vision only focused on her not seeing all other families and FBI and police in the background. Tears running down your face as you move your finger to pull the trigger but stop once you hear Hotch.

"Agent L/n stand down now!"

You watch as cops take the woman and man away. You put your gun in its holder turning around looking at the young image of you. You pick him up for a tight hug both of you crying on each other.

The BAU watches the two of you all of them not daring to make a move or a comment until Hotch walks over to you both grabbing the both of you for a hug.

TIMESKIP WEEKS LATER

For the first time ever Y/n was in his bed with Hotch naked only a pair of boxers covering him. Hotch traces the scars with his hands lowering his head down from time to time giving the scars small kisses. "You're so beautiful Y/n." Hotch says before planting a kiss on one of Y/n larger scars all the way to the top of the scar to the bottom. "H-hotch stop it!" Y/n begs but Hotch ignores it by kissing another scar on his stomach.

"I love you Y/n no matter what happened to you in the past or what you look like I will always love you."

"I love you too you dork now..."

"Aaron~ Why don't you kiss me up here." Y/n suggest smuggly but gets shut up with a slap on the thigh.

THE END

[teal-fiend]

A strange old pred who lives in the woods, has a little cottage. Living alone with nothing but their pet bird.

They live a little way from a village that they sometimes visit to gather supplies. 

Being a pred, they feel very estranged from the rest of society, which is why they have chosen the hermit life. 

They don’t dislike prey, but they aren’t comfortable interacting with them for more than a few seconds. The pred doesn’t talk much, almost to the point of being mute, and they don’t behave like a normal person. They’re just doing their own thing, and it doesn’t match up with what their distant neighbours are doing. 

The pred has been living near the town for longer than most of the residents can remember - they don’t know how or when the pred got there, or why they are here. They don’t seem to have any family. There aren’t any other preds local to the area. The preds existence is a mystery to most people. 

The townsfolk, although they don’t understand the pred, they don’t dislike them. In fact, the pred is useful to them. 

Issues can often arise within the community - an outsider coming into the town to try and buy-out their land, out-compete local businesses, or otherwise harass or cause problems for the locals. If this happens, the townsfolk approach the pred and politely ask that they go after the prey. 

They’ll tell the problematic individual that the pred is the mayor, or someone with authority. They’ll schedule a meeting with the pred. They’ll talk over lunch. The townsfolk will dress the pred in formal attire. During the meeting, the pred will eat the problem. 

The community will thank the pred, cooing over them, affirming them (because the pred can be skittish, especially after eating). The pred would wobble back to their house to digest in peace. And in the coming days, the pred will receive gifts from the town (cheese, books, hats), as a thank you for the help.

[lesbianoms]

I honestly love the idea of a prey whimpering and begging for their life suddenly getting incredibly aroused and blissful once digestion actually starts. It's like being comforted in the most intimate way after experiencing such a dramatic emotional shift. One moment they feel like their entire world is ending, and then the next they're being cradled tight and held so close in such a warm and oddly comforting way. Getting digested is almost therapeutic for them.

The pred pats and rubs their belly, relishing in their prey's muffled moans, which they can feel throughout their entire body. It seems like their meal has finally settled down. And for the prey, it feels sooooo so good in there... they might be trapped inside of a stomach, but everything is just so warm now... and gooey...

And it almost feels loving in an odd, animalistic way. With the acids relaxing their tension, allowing them to let their guard down, the prey accepts their fate and gives themselves over to pleasure and peace, as they slowly gurgle into a shapeless lump within the pred's big belly. One of the last things they hear before resigning themselves to eternal bliss is the loud, satisfied belch of their pred. They wouldn't have it any other way now, honestly <3

[sinfromlokislair]

a new test subject

so how many of you enjoy d/ead c/ells? probably not many based on the amount of fics under its tag. anyways, ive been in that fandom for months and never wrote anything for it despite the massive amount of pred potential it has. here's a fic featuring one of my favorites, the collector. written in second person because i was being self indulgent and refuse to apologize.

enjoy meeting the only friendly npc on the island and fumbling your interactions with him so badly he eats you.

word count: 6370 warnings: fatal vore, pov fic, mentions of drugs, questionable morals from a strange bipedal amphibian, minor spice.

When the island finally came into view, you’d already been drifting for a day. After the destruction of the travel liner you’d been on, you’d been trapped on a lifeboat as the only survivor of the tragedy. One moment it had been a peaceful night on your journey to your new life, and the next, some kind of lightning strike had come down on the vessel, cleaving it in half. You had no idea what could have done such a thing, but the thought that it was out there, potentially swimming in the water or lurking in the sky, had sent chills down your spine. 

There had been only one surviving lifeboat. Whatever had attacked had been intelligent enough to strike at an angle that destroyed most of them. As you’d paddled to it, your wet clothing threatening to drag you to the bottom of the sea, you’d heard the screams of your fellow passengers and smelled the blood in the water as the sea churned with crimson foam. Whatever was in the water was equally as deadly as what had attacked you. It had pursued you to the boat as you climbed aboard, leaving you with a nip on your leg before abandoning its attack.

You’d hugged your knees to your chest and tried to block out the screams, praying that someone else would survive and climb on. They never did. And when morning came with its warding light, you’d been met with a sea that was bright red, and not from the morning light. 

As the day had gone on you’d drifted aimlessly, too afraid to use the paddles in the boat to send yourself anywhere. What good would it do? You couldn’t see land anywhere. Those survival manuals had always said to stay in the same place and await rescue. You had doubted that rescue would come deep down, but it was all that stood between you and a painful death of dehydration, so clinging to hope like it was a rope, you’d held on and prayed that things wouldn’t end like this. 

The day had been hot and disappointing. A jagged lighthouse had caught your eye, but when you paddled towards it, you’d seen the jagged nest of broken ships around it and decided that perhaps approaching such a deadly structure wasn’t the best idea. Instead you’d rationalized that the sight of a lighthouse must imply the presence of civilization nearby, and worked through your rations as you spent your energy paddling in whatever direction you thought you saw a mass on the horizon.

Your efforts paid off. The sight of the island was joyfully ominous as you floated towards it, the vision of an odd castle topping it off like horns on a devil. It was dark, as if cast in shadows by nature itself. Birds flew away from the mass as you approached, several passing overhead as they headed out to sea. You thought you saw what looked like cancerous growths on one, growths that glowed like the sun. You tried to ignore it, even as the wretched smell began to wash over you.

The beach you pulled yourself in on had gray sand. It felt like a slurry beneath your feet as if made of both mud and sand. You dragged your boat in and pulled the bag of remaining rations over your shoulder, turning to scan the beach sprawled before you. 

It ran on for miles both ways. Just before you was a sheer face of rock, serving as a functional wall to keep you from exploring deeper. Sighing to yourself, you took the paddle from the raft, deciding that if you were to be trapped on a foreign island, you were going to have some form of weapon on you. 

It soon proved to be a wise choice on your behalf. As you headed down the beach, searching for the end of the rock face, you spotted what seemed like a green skull poking out of the sand. You nudged it with the tip of your paddle and found that, in fact, it was a fully fleshed head—or rather, a rotting fleshed head. The glowing eyes looked back at you with a vacant expression, making your heart leap in your chest. You quickly batted it away and quickened your pace. 

The skulls only grew in number as you progressed, however. And soon they were joined by arms, legs, torsos, full bodies. Each had glowing growths somewhere on their form. You felt a shiver travel down your spine and you walked past them; it felt as if they were watching you. They were diseased, it seemed, and this beach was some kind of dumping ground. It made you wonder what the residents of this island were like–the bodies they dumped seemed human, so they must be human as well. But were they the kind that ate other humans? Or sacrificed them to blood gods? Or killed without mercy? You prayed not. 

The rock face suddenly broke, revealing what seemed to be a cave mouth. You paused before it, looking into the blackness. A few more bodies were lurking within, clawing at the walls. Their green glow was the only light visible. 

Your instincts screamed at you to stay away from the opening. Swallowing hard, you gave it a wide berth, moving close to the sea as you attempted to go around it. The water splashed lightly against your bare feet, virtually matching the cold temperature they had fallen to. 

And something moved in the water. You heard what sounded like a form rising from the waves, water cascading off of its body. The movement drew your eyes instantly, revealing a glowing blue body with veiny tentacles. It was covered in white spikes beneath which flesh pulsed and a single eye opened, locking onto your form. 

A hiss arose from the monster's throat as its tentacles suddenly burst forth, lunging at you. A scream escaped your mouth, but your legs felt like gelatin, betraying you when you needed them most. The monster hissed eagerly, its jaw cracking as it opened. 

The sight of the jagged teeth finally kickstarted your brain into panic mode. You jerked back, almost tripping over yourself as a dagger-like tentacle stabbed where you’d just been standing. Screaming again, you turned tail and fled, beelining for the cave. At the mouth you hesitated, your heart hammering in your chest as you glanced over your shoulder. 

The thing was on the sand, raised on six tentacles, each complete with a single claw. It was rapidly approaching, crawling after you like an enormous spider. The wretched smell of rotten shrimp shot over you, mixing with the brine of the sea and the decay of the bodies around you. It instantly brought bile to your throat. 

You didn’t have time to vomit. Stumbling forward, fluid leaking from between your lips and gagging your throat, you flail into the cave, quickly leaving behind the gray light of the outside. The ground very quickly turned from slushy sand to hard rock, some of which cut into your heels. The sound of claws on stone eliminated the sensation of that pain. Your legs broke into a run, your chest burning, your mind praying that you wouldn’t hit a wall and end everything there. 

In a sense, your prayer was answered. It wasn’t a wall that you hit. 

The slope came up too rapidly. You couldn’t have seen it even with a lantern. The ground gave way instantly, catching your foot and dropping you to the floor. Your scream died in your throat as your chest slammed against slanted stone, stone which your body shot down like a rocket. It was cold, wet, and slimier than the mud above. And worst of all, it was pitch black. Your heart fired a mile a minute, your brain panicking and your survival instincts screaming. You were going to die. You were going to die.

You did not die. A light suddenly appeared ahead, something so sudden that you had no time to react to it before you were launched out of the tunnel you’d fallen into, flying onto a metal grate several feet from the pipe you’d come from. The wind was knocked out of you as you skidded, cutting open your arms and skinning your knees. You groaned as you finally came to a stop spread-eagle over some kind of viscous green goo. It reeked of rot. 

Your heart was still pounding a mile a minute. You swallowed, trying to remove the taste of bitter bile from your mouth, and raised yourself up on your palms, wincing as they stung from their cuts. Red blood was leaking down your arms, dripping to the substance below and sizzling as it made contact. That couldn’t be good. 

Slowly, you looked around, trying to make sense of your surroundings. Where were you? Some kind of sewer? You’d arrived in what seemed like some kind of pipe room, luckily landing on some kind of platform. It was lit by sconces on the wall, orange flames burning as if they’d only been recently lit. At the edge of the platform was what looked like an alchemist’s workbench–there were vials of all kinds, flasks of all shapes, and liquids of every color you could imagine. Your brows furrowed as you approached it, looking over the various tools left on the wood. Someone had been here recently; there wasn’t a speck of dust on the table. But who would be down here? 

The sound of a door opening suddenly echoed through the room. You froze, panic surging through your veins as you thought back to the monster from before–had it learned how to open doors? Where was there a door in here? Wait, what if it had followed you down the pipe? Your gaze shot towards the sound, which had come from beyond where you’d landed. 

There was a humanoid figure there. Your heart pounded as it turned towards you, two blue, glowing eyes locking onto your form. Your hands balled into fists, wishing for that paddle you’d dropped as you backed away from the figure. 

A surprised hum sounded from it. “Well well well, what have we here?” The voice that sounded was dry and low, almost devious sounding, and masculine. As the figure approached you made out blue skin, bird-like feet, a dark cloak and hood and a massive syringe tied to the figure’s back. Another monster. 

“Stay-stay away from me,” you warned, hunching your shoulders and trying to appear intimidating. It was hard considering the figure was a full four feet taller than you, if not more. “Stay back! I’m-I’ll–”

“You’ll what?” He asked, chuckling. “You’ll run deeper into the sewers? You must be new. Ah, pardon my rudeness, then.” He stopped at the grate where you’d been laying, raising a single clawed hand. “I’m the Collector, and I’m the closest thing you’ll get to a friend around here. Now, who are you?”

You pause. He’s talking, so at least he’s sentient. And he didn’t seem to be hostile. That was a plus. But could you really trust him?

“You look like you lost a fight,” he says, breaking you out of your thoughts. “Want to try a concoction of mine?”

He reaches into his coat and produces a glowing flask, swirling it for effect. “Free for first time testers.” 

The liquid did look appealing. And you had just lost a fight. But you weren’t stupid. 

“What…what will it do?” You ask. “Wait, who are…where am I? Where is this place? Who are you? What is…” You pause, gesture to everything. “I just–I just washed up here, I don’t even…ugh!”

His eyes suddenly widened. “You washed up here? You come from beyond the island?” And he’s on you in an instant, his hands grabbing your waist and lifting you like you weigh nothing. 

“Hey!” You yell, kicking and shoving at his grip. “Put me down!” 

“Absolutely not,” he answers, tossing you over his shoulder. “You’re far too valuable to feed my experimental concoctions to. Come, we’re going somewhere safe. It will go faster if you don’t struggle.” 

You growl, shoving at his hand. “I don’t even know who you are!” 

“I’m the Collector. And I’m the best thing you’ll get down here. Now hold still so I don’t need to incapacitate you.” His grip tightens, and you begrudgingly settle down, grumbling to yourself. “There, was that so hard?”

You’d punch his hooded head if you weren’t scared he’d break you like a twig if you did so. 

—------

The blue liquid sloshes ominously as he shoves the glass towards you. “Drink it.” 

You grimace, looking between the slime and his obscured face. There was no way to read his eyes, their glowing gaze locked onto you like you were an indignant child. “Do I…really have to? It looks…what’s it even made of?” You take the glass and swirl it a bit, observing how the fluid sticks to the edges. 

“You don’t want to know that,” he says, leaning forward on one arm. “But it’s good for you. If there’s any Malaise in your system, it’ll flush it out. I can’t have you becoming infected. You’re too valuable for that.” 

You give him a look, your frown deepening. “You still haven’t told me what ‘Malaise’ is. Or what this place is, frankly.”

He’d carried you through the whole sewers, narrowly avoiding undead monsters and barely managing to outrun the hordes of glowing rats that crept from the pipes. Once you’d escaped the sewers and spilled out onto the outskirts of a town, he’d taken you towards what seemed to be an old shack, only for that ‘shack’ to be a front for a secret underground lab. He had dozens of these all over the island, he’d explained, and they were safe havens for him as he traversed it. Here, you’d be safe and cared for, provided you cooperated. 

It smelled better than the rest of the island, which now had the rot of fish in the air, so you’d initially agreed. Anywhere sheltered and monster free would do for you now. But here, locked underground with a nine foot lizard bird man, you were starting to realize just how much you’d fucked up. For one, he wanted you to drink what could be poison. For another, he seemed to be some kind of scientist type, and not the kind who still held onto morals. And of course there was the problem that he seemed rather fascinated with you. 

All of this reeked of bad vibes to you. But what else were you supposed to have done? Died to that weird monster? You bring the cup to your nose and give it a sniff. It’s rather foul. You gag and put it down. 

“Seriously. How can you expect me to be okay with…any, of this right now. Where even am I?”

He sighs and raises himself off the table, turning to rifle through one of his bags. “You’re on The Island. That’s all we call it nowadays. You were likely struck down by The Queen, and now you’re trapped here with the rest of us.” He retrieves a map and slaps it down in front of you. “The Island is plagued with a deadly sickness called The Malaise. If you catch it, you will die. Everything here already has. There is no cure. Now. Drink that. If you’ve caught a whiff of the stuff, it’ll keep it from progressing.” 

You wince, staring at the map before looking back to the substance. “The Malaise…? How is something without a cure going to be stopped by this…uh…stuff?”

“It’s my personal brew,” he grumbles, growing annoyed. “I drink it every day to keep myself from succumbing. In fact you’re taking part of my portion, which is a generous act on my behalf. Avoid squandering my gift and consume it like a proper guest. Or do you want to be tied to a table and forced to consume it?”

You give him a glare, but what he sends back is enough to put you in your place. Best not to anger the giant bird lizard man. Slowly, you bring the cup to your lips, and pinching your nose, try to chug it down in one gulp. It doesn’t work, and you gag before coughing some back into the cup. He rolls his eyes. 

“Don’t attempt to drink it all at once. It’s too thick for that. Deep swallows, now.” 

Your eyes water as the wretched taste rolls over your tongue. It’s like rotten fruit combined with dirt and powdered aspirin. If you had anything in your stomach it’d probably be on the floor by now, but that was back in the cave, and you were not eager to repeat that encounter. You follow his instructions, giving deep swallows and taking it one mouthful at a time. Eventually it settles in your stomach, heavy as lead and strangely warm. 

You slam the cup down and groan. “Gross. That was disgusting. What did you–” You stop, remembering he already told you not to ask. The Collector huffs at you and shakes his head. 

“First timers. Always complaining about the flavor. I’m an alchemist, not a chef. I just make the potion, I don’t add sugar to it.” He continues shaking his head, retrieving a bottle of the same stuff and promptly chugging it. You watch in both amazement and disgust. His motions are so smooth and practiced, it’s as if the fluid had no flavor at all. 

He wipes his lips and returns the bottle to his belt, gaze falling back to you. “Now,” he says, placing his hands on the table you’re sitting at, “we can begin testing. I’ll need blood samples, tissue, urine, and hair. We’ll give it about fifteen minutes before the blood. How do you fare with needles?”

Your brows rise in shock. “Hey! I didn’t agree to be a test subject! What are you even–did you poison me?!” You rise to your feet, gaze jerking back to the exit. 

“Don’t,” he growls, moving to your side in an instant. “You won’t last a minute out there. And no, I didn’t poison you. If I wanted you dead, you’d already be in the ground.” He temples his fingers, grinning. “No, I want you for testing. You don’t realize how valuable you are, do you?” He advances slowly, forcing you back. “Think of this: every inhabitant on this island is dead. I have treated thousands for Malaise, thousands just like you, and not a single one survived. Had I the concoctions I have now, then, perhaps I might have changed those numbers. And with you, a fresh subject, I might be able to derive a cure.” 

Your eyes widen in horror, your heart pounding. This guy was no better than the monsters you’d seen roaming outside–no, he was worse. They just wanted you dead because, well, they’re monsters! But The Collector wouldn’t dream of killing you–no, that’d be a waste of the valuable data you’d provide. 

Data. Numbers on a clipboard. Statistics on a graph. You feel the substance within you threatening to come back up. 

“No way!” You scream, scrambling over the table. “I’m not your personal test subject! I-I’m a living breathing person!” 

He grins, eyes narrowing dangerously. “So were all they. By the end I was cleaving open their bellies while they still breathed searching for answers. Let us not repeat that, yes? If you cooperate, I will give you a home, a safe haven, and enough resources to maintain your life. All I want is your body.” 

You shake your head wildly. “Hell no!” As you back away you hit a shelf, vials clinking as you touch them. His grin fades at that, his eyes frowning. 

“Avoid breaking those,” he commands, advancing around the table. “You aren’t even capable of understanding what they could do.” 

You narrow your eyes, a snarl twisting your lips as you grab the nearest bottle. “Oh, this?” And without thinking you slam it onto the stone floor, glaring indignantly as it shatters. “Woops!” 

He stops, eyes turning to slits. “Don’t you dare–”

Before he can even finish his sentence you’ve grabbed another, throwing it to the floor. The glowing fluid within spills out into a puddle, mixing with the prior concoction. It begins to bubble, the color changing as some kind of reaction begins. His eyes widen. 

“Wait, stop, you don’t know what you’re making!” 

But his words fall on deaf ears, for you’ve already grabbed another and thrown it to the ground. He lunges, catching your hand as you reach for another and pulling you back. You scream and kick, jerking against him and squirming wildly as you’re tossed around. For an ‘alchemist’, he’s damnably strong, aided partially by the fact he’s got four feet on you. 

He looks like he’s about to say something, but the words never escape his lips. The fluids on the floor suddenly bubble wildly, mixing together to form a gas cloud that rolls over the entire room. You hold your breath, your eyes slamming shut, but it isn’t enough–it lingers in the air, aided by the fact that there’s little circulation in here. The gas floods your lungs, overpowering your body and filling you with its essence. 

Has it…always been so warm in here…? Has it always been so…comfy…? You feel your body relaxing, your heart slowing and your muscles losing their tension. You feel the Collector relaxing against you as well, his grip loosening, a low purr rising in his throat. 

“Damn…” he murmurs, his tone teasing, “just what…have you done?” A tiny chuckle escapes him, causing his chest to shake against you. “You’ve gone and ruined…ruined it…haha…” He releases you, throwing his head back and laughing. “So silly of you! So silly!” 

You stumble forward, finding yourself laughing as well. So silly! Look at you, you silly little troublemaker. Messing everything up! You snort, grabbing the table, seeing the empty glass. A grin forms on your face and you take it, holding it up like a prize. 

“Look!” You say, presenting it to him. “Look what I’ve got!” And you throw it to the ground, shattering it. “Woopsies!” 

He snorts with laughter, almost doubling over. “You’ve ruined it! You’ve ruined it! Ha…ha…” His eyes lock onto you, and his grin widens. “Ruined all of it…mmm…maybe I should ruin you…” 

You feel heat blooming in your chest as he speaks, your smile turning coy. “Oh? Ruin me?” You raise your hands to your chest, feeling yourself up ever so slightly. “Gonna put me on the floor? Break me apart?” You feign falling, then actually slip and fall on your ass. A laugh escapes you, and then you can’t stop. It’s just so funny! 

He joins you in laughing, tugging his cloak off as he kneels over you. “All of it, all of it…hehehe…” 

His much bigger form easily encompasses yours as he straddles your body, stopping only when your face is level with his chest. Without the cloak, you can take in his full form–god, he’s good looking. Blue skin, full pecs, a lighter blue belly, all of it on display for you. He chuckles again, tilting his head. “Silly…you silly little ruin…all of it, all of you…hehe…I’ll take all of you~” 

You laugh, reaching up to grab one of his pecs and squeezing. “Take all of me!” You giggle, grabbing them both. “Take all of me!” 

Another chuckle escapes him as he grabs your shoulders, sitting back on his heels and pulling you up with him. His blue smile, glowing from somewhere inside his dark hood, grows wider, luminescent drool dripping from it as he opens his mouth. You blink a few times, tilting your head slightly. 

“Wha…?” You ask, but are swiftly silenced by the presence of a glowing tongue pressing against your face. It’s the same bright blue color as the rest of his mouth, and leaves behind a thin trail of saliva as he tastes your nose, your cheek, your eye socket and finally your forehead. Content with his sample, he swipes his tongue up your head and pulls it back in, a low rumbling sounding as he gulps down your flavor. 

“So good…” he mutters. “All of you, so good.” 

His grip on your shoulders suddenly turns painful as he squeezes you in place, his glowing maw opening to its full extent. If you didn’t have a concoction of happy chemicals fogging your mind you might have screamed. But instead you just giggle. His mouth is pretty. You get a close look as he descends upon you–glowing blue tongue, opalescent saliva, white teeth that are scarily sharp looking. His tongue, more akin to a tentacle than the muscle you’d come to know it as, extends as his teeth graze the top of your head. 

You get one final laugh out, though if it's from nerves or your brain firing a mile a minute and being bottlenecked by the chemicals, you aren’t sure. All you know is that his jaws clamp down on you, his teeth digging slightly into your scalp and chin as he pulls you into his mouth. The tongue leaps onto your face, squishing against your cheek and rubbing up and down as he tastes you more. Saliva pools around you, wetting your head and dripping out from between his jaws to soak your neck and shirt. 

A moan of some sort emanates from his throat as he drinks up your flavor. You smile and close your eyes, listening to the sounds of his mouth working around you. A loud swallow pulls you forward, your face moving from resting comfortably in the middle of his maw to squishing against the flesh of his throat. Your eyes open to slits, trying to see just what awaits you, and are promptly forced to close again by another swallow. It drags you forward, the pressure on your head increasing exponentially in the process. 

The muscles of his throat squeeze you tightly as they fight to pull you downwards. It becomes quickly apparent that his body isn’t used to dealing with prey as large as yourself–no sooner has your head entered his gullet than he gags slightly, the muscles smothering you momentarily as he seems to ponder spitting you back out, his grip on your shoulders loosening. But a sudden growl from below echoes throughout his body, and that seems to settle it. 

His hands move to your arms and his teeth move down your neck, heading for your shoulders. You relax in his grip, the warmth of his body deceptively comforting as it works to engulf you. You feel his tongue slither out across your chest, coating it in a thin layer of saliva as he works on your shoulders, which are slowly, slowly passing between his lips and moving towards his throat. 

As he swallows again, sending them into his gullet and traveling down your chest, you become aware of another sound nearby–the thunderous beat of his heart. It’s going a mile a minute it seems, much faster than would be healthy for any human. You giggle a bit at the prospect, wondering if you’re exciting him. Deciding to tease him a bit, you manage to just barely bend your elbow, which is only now beginning to pass into his mouth, and try to tickle his face in some way. You feel his tongue move to pay attention to your hand, slithering between your fingers and leaving behind a thick residue of spit before curling around it and welcoming it in. If only you could giggle without the muscles immediately gagging you. 

He gulps again and those muscles suddenly squeeze hard–too hard. Your eyes squeeze shut with pain as the pressure on your head increases tenfold, threatening to crush your skull like an egg before they suddenly part. A tight ring forms around the crown of your skull and moves down your head, which momentarily hangs free in empty space. 

That is, until another swallow sends more of you in and squishes your face against something soft. You manage to open one eye and see a glowing wall of flesh speckled with dark spots. It seems to mold to your shape as you slide in, aided by both his constant gulps and the size of your own body. 

Speaking of your body, its entire upper half is now engulfed in his own. You kick your legs a bit, feeling them flail in the air as he works on your waist. A low grunt escapes from him as you move, causing him to shake and bend over ever so slightly. His hands move from your waist to your legs, holding them in place as his body suddenly shifts. The esophageal tube that had previously felt so tight suddenly loosens ever so slightly as he tilts his head back, letting gravity aid in sending the rest of your body down his gullet. Your arms pop free into his stomach just in time for you to brace yourself as several powerful swallows send you in up to your knees. 

It’s quickly becoming cramped in here. You’re not even all the way in, but you’re already being forced to curl, the walls closing in on your form as it stretches them. The heat is starting to get to you as well: what had previously been like a comfortable sauna is quickly becoming a smothering boil. The walls, glowing gently before, are now beginning to luminesce brightly enough to force your eyes shut again. As he slurps down your calves, tongue wrapping around one of them in a spiral, you hear a loud gurrrrrgle sound around you, accompanied by a sudden rush of hot fluid oozing from the walls. It washes over you, viscous and sticky, and quickly begins to burn–but before you can do anything to wipe it away, your legs slide down his throat and join you in his cramped gut, forcing you to adjust your position. 

The walls shift and stretch with your movements as you’re turned over, upside down, and splatted against them. Outside, the Collector moans as he runs his hands over his distended gut, kneading you into a favorable position for his digestive system to begin its work on you. The work of his stomach muscles along with the aid from his hands quickly subdues any struggles you might have had, squishing you into the fetal position and closing any gaps you might have taken advantage of. 

You’re trapped in position, the burning fluid on your body having spread out during the process of being squished around. You squint at the wrinkled walls around you, the dark spots on them almost hypnotic as they begin to shift, oozing more of that same painful fluid. It runs down your legs and arms, spilling onto your chest and threatening to pool at the pit of his stomach. The burning is no worse than a too hot bath, but you know it’ll soon worsen. Even with the haze of the drugs still clouding your system, you know what happens to things in stomachs. 

This was a stomach, right? You didn’t expect it to be so pretty. The glowing walls around you ripple with muscular movements, always trying to push you lower. They knead you studiously in a way that almost resembles a massage, if a massage was done with oil that burned you. You exhale, letting the heat of the gut around you begin to sink into your bones. It’s so hot in here. Your chest rises and falls slowly with each breath, but your heart is racing, just like the one not so far above you. 

Despite your circumstances you find it in you to laugh a bit. Pretty. Pretty like the stars. 

You rest your head back, sinking into the nearest wall. “Pretty…” you murmur, a loud gurgle drowning out your voice. “So pretty…”

Outside, the Collector tries and fails to stand, falling back on his ass and promptly flopping to the floor. His gut, stuffed with your form, bounces forward before settling on his abdomen, your visible shape clearly straining its glowing skin. He takes a few deep breaths, chuckling quietly and running his hands over his stretched skin. To think, he fit a human in there after all these years. It would appear he still had it in him. And they’d tasted so good. He’d forgotten what human tasted like, what with the Malaise eliminating most of them. 

The human shifted slightly in his gut. He watched the bulge of their arm and shoulder form, then slide back into conformity as his stomach squished against them with a groan. Every movement they made, he could observe, and every submission forced upon them, he could gloat in. Inside of him, they were nothing but a meal, and soon they would be melted down into a proper soup and pumped into his guts. The thought excited him, for some reason–usually he held no concern for the processes that occurred in his body, but this…this was something to indulge in. 

Perhaps it was the gas, still lingering heavily in the air. Perhaps it was the thrill of a meal after such a long time without one. Whatever the case, he wasn’t about to pass on this opportunity. 

He pulled himself up against the nearest wall, using both arms to accommodate for the extra weight now hanging from his midsection. Then he moved his hands back to his stomach and closed his eyes, focusing on the sensation of tracing his fingers over your still solid form. His gut was so warm, and the softness of his skin let his fingers glide over your form with ease. Each stroke brought on a new sensation of pleasure, which only seemed to accelerate the digestive process. His stomach grew louder, the gurgles and groans it had been occasionally muttering before quickly growing into a cacophony. 

“Mmmmm…” he purred, pressing into his gut with his palms and kneading circles at the base of it. “So…good…”

Inside, the liquid had grown into a much larger pool. It was up to your waist, the burning growing to a painful searing. You’d been quiet, trying to endure the pain, the fog of your mind clearing with the stark realization that you were being digested. In the glow of the stomach walls you could see your flesh beginning to flake off, blood pouring from fresh wound to join the opalescent acids eating away at you. Your breaths quickened, your head spinning from the pain, the heat, and the lack of air. And then his voice sound around you, breaking through what had become an orchestra of gurgles, groans, and ominous rumbling from below. 

The words found their way out of you before you even knew what they were. 

“Hurts. Please. Stop. Please.” You look up, as if he can hear you. “Please let me out. It’s burning. Please!” 

He glances down at his stomach, narrowing his eyes deviously at the quiet pleas coming from within. The Collector’s tongue peeked between his lips, licking your flavor off them and leaving behind a cruel grin in their wake. 

“Mmmm…don’t think so,” he teased, poking where your head was. “Too good…too good, to let you…” 

Didn’t he want this human for something? He couldn’t recall. They just felt too good in there. He stretched his legs slightly and pressed down on his gut, back arching at the sudden squirming that erupted as a result. A scream sounded when he pressed again, which made him laugh. Good little human. 

“I thought you wanted me alive!” You scream, the walls suddenly forcing you below the pool. The drugs have left you now, and you’re in full panic. “STOP! You need me alive! I’m not food! I-I’m a human being!”

The walls around you squeeze tighter, which causes the fluid level to rise again. You cry out in pain as the acids singe your neck. 

“PLEASE! COLLECTOR!” 

The gut around you rumbles, the walls shaking for a moment before they suddenly collapse in on you all at once, smothering your head beneath the acids. Distantly, a loud belch sounds. You squeeze your eyes shut and hold your breath, praying the pressure lets up before you start to drown. 

The Collector belches loudly as his prey pleads, thumping his chest twice to force any extra air out of his gut. It erupts into a flurry of sudden struggles, something that might have helped it when it was still outside of him. Oh well. Now all that does is send small jolts of pleasure through him, warming his nethers and making his chest heave a bit faster. 

He burps again, this one much smaller than the other. His prey’s final struggles seem to be beginning, evidenced by how they’re rapidly weakening. The blows that previously stretched his skin now barely cause a dent. He exhales sleepily as he watches an elbow jab poke out, followed by a kick from the other side. Neither cause any form of discomfort to him. 

“Enjoy my digestive system,” he purrs, patting his gut. “I’m sure we’ll have…so much to learn about each other…” 

A yawn stretches his maw and sends a few strands of spittle flying. He blinks sleepily, resting a hand atop your form. “Mmm…warm in here…mind if I nap, a little?” 

He doesn’t get any form of response from you. 

“Good…to know…” he rumbles, slumping against the wall. “So…good…” 

In a few hours, he’ll wake to someone slamming a fist on the door. When he rises, it’ll be with a softened, sloshy gut hanging from his midsection, working on pumping the nutritious slush that had once been a human deeper into his body. By the time the sun sets he’ll find himself with a fresh layer of pudge on his pecs and belly. The last of you is gone before the time loop even resets. After the next four, he completely forgets you even existed, your presence on his belly soon disappearing as his body metabolizes the rest of you for sustenance during his travels.

At least you escaped the Malaise, in one way or another.  

[loveandvore]

Prey who has a horrible habit of getting munched. Maybe they just have awful luck. Maybe they’re a bit on the meek side and it makes them seem like an easy target. Maybe they’re cocky and court danger a bit more closely than they should. Regardless, they’re winding up in someone’s stomach on a daily basis.

Luckily, they have a pred friend who’s always there to fish them out of whatever guts they’ve landed themself in. And maybe that’s part of why they’re always getting eaten- they know they’ve got someone who will rescue them, so they don’t have to be too worried…

Until one day their pred friend just wants some peace and quiet, and decides they’re tired of always being at the beckon call of their high maintenance prey friend, and just… ignores their texts and calls. Maybe they’ll regret it later, but for now they just want to catch some zzz’s and have some time to themselves…

This is a kink post minors DNI

[askbombasticblake]

we know what you did.

Funny, because I also know what you did, Shiloh.

I know that you kept your college roommate's secret, instead of telling campus police that Tianwei was a p3d0ph1l3, because she told you some sob story about her parents being abusive & nearly dying in a housefire.

I know that you were perfectly fine taking part in a harassment campaign against me and my ex-wife on behalf of Lily, and only apologized to me when I started getting clout.

Speaking of Lily, I know that you're not the "strong, angry abuse advocate" you claim to be because you gave NEGATIVE amounts of pushback to being her mistress, and only broke away from her when the money ran dry.

I know that the only time you believe victims over predators is when they have something to offer you that the predator doesn't, which is why your current simultaneous hate campaign against NF & Dormiyu (both victims) and support campaign for Poppy (an unapologetic predator) rings so fucking hollow.

You talk about understanding behavioral patterns so goddamn well, well I can see your pattern clear as day. So I wonder, how long will it be before your pattern of "bleed a pred dry, then backstab them when it's convenient" will last this time, hmm? What will be the breaking point for you to stop supporting Poppy?

Will it be her requesting an incest ERP? Will it be her hitting on your "daughter" Ruby? Or will it come down to her no longer accepting your emotional and financial mooching?

It's gonna happen eventually, and I'm gonna be there to watch it. Because unlike your current "Mom", I have the means to clear my conscience. My brothers have filled in the gaps in my memory, and given me the peace of mind to clear my name. And on the legal side of things, I'm currently in talks with my cousin, a lawyer down in Texas, to take my case pro-bono so I can sue you & your wicked "family" for everything you took from me.

Your days are numbered, Salizar. And the clock is ticking.

[sillyromance]

🩹,💗,❗️?

Good day, dear anonymous!

🩹 - healing vore:

I think it's very interesting concept which has a kinda joint base with comfort vore but still stands out of other vore scenarios as a unique thing. There is a mix of two directly opposite actions: sending someone inside your stomach and... healing their wounds with this! Using such unusual combination, artists get an endless amount of angsty and comforting scenarios - and also a great push of their imagination limits: their characters can possess anatomical features no one ever thought of before. As for the action itself, it's just very good for a pred to know that they won't ever feel lost or helpless in case their prey friend get into trouble which can lead to the latter being badly injured. The prey feels safer too when knowing their big pal is around... Sensations are pretty enjoyable as well: the feeling of your ache being instantly eased by the miraculous liquids, combined with a soothing vibe of the cozy stomach massaging you is unspeakably beautiful...

So, I definitely love such way of healing!

💗- the most favourite trope:

Well... I suppose: a gentle pred/ a kind and submissive prey. If there are these two, I will love any scenario from safe to fatal. Although, there is one I love the most:

Safe vore/reformation:

A prey comes home after a really rough day; the pred sees it, however, their little friend doesn't admit it. Instead, they just head to their room and start working again - or go to the kitchen, seeking for something to eat... Meanwhile, they big partner watches them silently for some time. The pred hasn't dined yet. But they know perfectly what they want for a snack right now - so, the big guy grabs the shorter one in a nice, tight embrace, saying the prey they were going to dive right in without any delay. The latter tries to protest at first, but quite soon they submit to the gentle cooing and warmth of the pred's hug: the little one sleepily thanks their partner and, finally, gets swallowed up; settling in the warm belly, they gladly sense their sore body relaxing and their mind clearing as tender walls move around them, the gurgling mixing with the pred's calm breath and heartbeat and creating a comforting symphony of natural peace which helps the prey to doze off. The pred feeling good for their friend and for themselves smiles and rubs their visibly rounded stomach which is lovingly churning over its favourite meal...

❗- discovering vore:

I'd say it has been a long way. I remember when I was four me and my father often played a game: he was a monster and I was its prey who had to avoid being eaten. Of course, everything was just for fun: we messed around a lot, giggling and encouraging each other; he often wrapped himself up in a large blanked to seem bigger and "scarier" and then "attacked" me in the darkness with a "monstrous roar". Usually, everything ended up with him "devouring" me which he always loudly announced while I was still laughing after a great session of tickles. I think, that's how the fun began...

The older I got, the more I felt that something strange was going on with me. I was fascinated with snakes who could swallow their victims whole. Sometimes my grandma asked me to read aloud some fairytales - but if it was Red Riding hood, I couldn't help but lowered my voice as it was coming to the "tense part" because I felt quite uncomfortable about it. Especially, because I saw that exact scene in a way I wasn't able to really understand.

But all I knew was that I liked it. It was just... special.

There were other things too; but it is too much to tell. If shortly, there were thoughts. They came to me periodically; and when they did, I sank in them for an hour or two. Then I was trying to imagine myself as both a pred and a prey - and what it should feel like to be one or another.

Once I decided to search in the Internet for something that could satisfy my needs... And there it was. Vore.

I won't lie if I say that I was scared at first due to my mind, basically, connected vore with cannibalism (the mistake many people make when they come across it for the first time)... I literally suffered after I figured out it was I seeked for. Consequently, I tried to block this part of my nature by completely denying it. But things were getting only worse: I couldn't concentrate on my usual businesses, I felt terrible, I was reading and watching EVERYTHING vore-related, even if I didn't like it at all - but I just had to ease the painful pangs attacking my brain. So, after some time, I gave up. I thought it was the best option because that way at least I wouldn't go crazy about the things and I would be able to go around my day without uncontrollable "hunger" I had for vore. That's what saved me.

Slowly, I understood that I wasn't bad or weird. I was simply built like that - like many other nice people, and there was nothing in vore that would really mean harm to anyone. My mom who was aware about my problems supported me as much as she could - and she accepted my interests without any negative words about it. After giving myself freedom, I could study and filter the information I was consuming and, finally, I discovered what I TRULY liked. I calmed down at last. That's when the blog was started which turned out to be the finishing dot in the book of my struggles.

Now, I'm into vore from the bottom of my heart - and I'm not ashamed of that! As many say, it's OK to be different since there is no threat to others. Our features are what make us - us. It's the truth we should never forget about.