#prey crushs

[yuco-the-alien116]

👾 (for the ask game)

👾 What characters do you consider pred/prey crushes?

Oh my god... so fucking many characters I see as lred crush. But I have very few I see has prey crushes because I'm a picker eater I guess lol

I love all big robots, transformers and titan looking characters. I also think some dragons are pretty cool.i just like big guys and girls and they/thems

But PREY CRUSHES oh boy... oh my god

1. The book person from a mobile game I play

Omg look at him. Look at him! Bro is out here fighting giant eldrich monsters and getting his shit rocked. I just need to protect him. I also eat paper for fun so maybe that's it. The game is called lost pages, btw

2. Old detective cookie

I just really like old guys who are detectives. And since his a cookie. I will eat him. The game is c//ookie r//un k//ingdom

3.4.5. Another mobile game character. Actully 3 of them

Now, these are robots I would eat. But I would also let the two twins eat me, so idk. L//ou is just so cute and sweet, and I need to hold him and make him happy. The twins are so silly, aka just good cop bad cop, and R-/T is just a living security camera, and he needs a break. The game is B//rawl S//tars.

That's all I got off the top my head

[serpentface]

The fearsome gape of a tyger

Most 'cats' in this setting are not cats at all, but actually hyaenodontoid carnivores that convergently evolved into a similar niche as large ambush predators. Earth type felids DO exist, but are largely extinct, having been almost entirely outcompeted and replaced by these guys in the evolutionary aftermath of a continental merger. I do this to be a jackass.

Tygers are among the biggest and most dangerous to primates, including large primates with swords and spears such as elowey and humans.

[teal-fiend]

content: f prey, pred pov, unwilling vore, digestion

you're hanging out with your friend, and their friend who you've only just met.

this person is small, maybe the size of a raggedy anne doll. She's not a tiny, but she's a way away from being a regular sized person.

You're feeling a little bit hungry, but when your friend offers you something to eat, you refuse.

and so you talk for a while, the three of you. you learn this new person studies bio, going for a masters, and she does bug taxidermy - you forget what she called it.

it gets a little less awkward as the conversations progress, you get used to each other and then your friend goes off for a bathroom break. leaving the two of you alone.

it's quiet for a moment, something sits in the air.

your stomach lets out a deep, prolonged growl. you excuse yourself. she laughs self-consciously, and tries to say something to you, but you're already on the move.

you act swiftly, and make sure you get her head in your mouth quickly, and by the time she can make a noise, her voice is muffled by your throat.

you feel her struggling with your throat muscles, and it almost activates your gag reflex, but you ignore the ticklish, irritation, and swallow. You have to use some force, as you don't usually get prey this large. You swallow hard, feeling the prey make gradual progress down

there is a very real sinking feeling in your chest. it's immensely satisfying, you take one last big gulp, then you follow the sensation as your hungry stomach is suddenly filled with a bounty of a meal.

You can watch as your belly swells out as the prey finds itself at it's last destination.

you look down at your mid-section curiously. If you tighten your core, you can make your body look relatively non-suspicious. Just a bit of an outward curve. But if you relax, it's easier to see how full you look.

You look pretty stuffed. Like you've just had a big dinner. You feel your belly cutting into your pants, which now feels too tight.

you look over to the empty chair where your prey was sitting before you decided to eat. Her jacket is still on it, and her bag is still on the floor. You belch loudly, it catches you by surprise.

You don't really know where to go from here. it was a spur of the moment decision. You feel the person kicking your gut, which is a funny feeling. you've never had prey so big - usually it's barely perceptible, but this is noticeable. It doesn't hurt, but you can definitely feel when she tries striking your stomach walls.

watching carefully, you can notice your belly move on it's own, as she pushes against your skin. You notice lumps and slight bulges appearing and she moves inside your stomach. You laugh quietly at the realisation. you've never been able to actually see your prey wriggling in your gut before. it's kind of satisfying, or engaging. but it's also a bit much; you've never had food that puts such a strain on your stomach.

you scratch your belly, thinking about it. it's kind of uncomfortable, how full you feel. You feel a little groggy, maybe a nap would help.

you run your hands over your stomach, feeling how taut it is through your shirt. Yes, time to rest, and get all this digested.

You lie down on you friend's couch, and rest your hands on your tummy, feeling the prey's body just under your skin, and feeling the grumbling of your stomach as it gets to work.

--

Your friend comes back in, apologising for taking so long

they start to say "hey, where's (x)?" but they stop when they see you up close.

as you turn over to get up, your stomach sloshes and gurgles, you burp again.

"I thought you said you weren't hungry"

"I wanted to have room," you explain, as you pat your full stomach.

your friend is probably mad at you, but you feel smug about the situation. You know they'll understand - you can't help your instincts, and they shouldn't have left a predator alone with a perfectly edible prey.

"I thought you two were getting along"

You shrug, "eh..."

your friend mutters something under their breath, frustrated. but you just yawn, stretching your arms above your head, feeling the contents of your stomach bubble as you move.

"okay, time for you to go home."

You try to make them feel bad for kicking you out, but they don't seem to care. You find yourself on their doorstep. it's cold outside, but your full belly will keep you warm. You sigh and start your walk home. walking is good for digestion, at least. probably for the best.

[armed-with-a-waffle-iron]

Helena was actually aiming for my heart, Selina.🎯

The Masks of Matches Malone, Batman: Brave and the Bold (or that infamous Gail Simone episode that got fucking banned in the US).

[pareidolla]

i finally managed to get the Big Hunted/instinct ending and i would just like to say. would

[pansyfemme]

im loving your boyfriend era good for you jude #LOVEWINS #iheartfags

jude boyfriend era has me so happy all the fucking time. im like spinning around and going teehee and shit. i have made him like a dozen bracelets. it has been less than two weeks since we’ve been back in person and i have been losing it a bit. i want to cook him dinner all the time. its bad. i got it bad.

[mmmleckerlecker]

The Magic of Christmas

Summary: Santa grants you the gift of a full year in the North Pole with him. What you don’t realize is that YOU will end up being the true gift of Christmas.

Contents: m/?; fatal vore; willing pred; unwilling prey; size-difference; betrayal; painless digestion; long-term; a little bit of soul vore?

Wordcount: 2,398

* * * * * * * * * *

It’s the night of Christmas Eve, and you’re already curled up, fast asleep in bed. Until suddenly you are awoken by someone gently shaking your shoulder. You blink your eyes open and are startled to find someone standing above you. You gasp and sit up. The stranger in your room is dressed all in red and sports a great white beard. As you come to, you realize you’re looking at the man himself.

“Santa Claus!” you blurt. “What are you doing here?”

He smiles at you. His eyes are as twinkly and his cheeks are as rosy as all the stories say. He’s also much, much bigger than you ever expected. You wonder how he even fits down all those chimneys.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you since you were a small child,” he explains, his voice warm and rumbling. “Not once have you been on my naughty list, and each year I’ve admired your kindness, thoughtfulness, and your ability to bring joy to other people’s lives. It’s because of this that I want to give you a very special gift this year.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you ask, “What is it?”

You’ve always known Santa to be real, even when all your friends grew up and stopped believing in him. And now, to not only get to meet him but to receive such high praise from him… it’s a dream come true.

“As a gift for your enduring generosity,” Santa begins, “I’d like to invite you to spend the next year with me in the North Pole.”

Your jaw drops. You’re so honored by the offer that it takes several stuttering attempts to say, “Yes! I mean, yes please!”

Santa lets out a quiet chuckle, each set of, “ho ho ho,” like music to your ears.

“Come,” he says, holding out a mittened hand. “Let’s go.”

You spend the rest of the night at his side, flying over the earth in his sleigh. You expect to be terrified by the height and speed, but you’re not. You’re exhilarated. There are even several times you stop at a house and Santa returns carrying carrots. He hands them to you and lets you feed the reindeer.

When you’re not feeding reindeer or waiting for Santa as he drops off gifts, the two of you are engaged in conversation. A lot of it is asking questions about the North Pole. Very often, Santa’s only response is, “You’ll see.”

As you talk, you can’t help but notice the faint scent of sugar cookies that emanates from him and the way he has a habit of dotingly rubbing his impressively round belly (like a bowl full of jelly). You don’t think too much of it, however. He’s Santa Claus and he’s everything you’ve ever dreamed of.

At the end of the night, you land in the North Pole and are greeted by hordes of cheerful elves. They’re smiling and laughing as they show you around Santa’s Village before guiding you to your new room where you promptly crawl into your marshmallow soft bed and fall asleep.

The next year goes by like a dream. All the elves make sure to meet your every need. Taking you on sleigh rides, inviting you to snowball fights, teaching you to ice skate, and then always making sure to bring you some cookies and hot chocolate after every meal.

Living in Santa’s village is like living Christmas every day and you couldn’t be happier.

There’s only one small thing that nags at you. And it’s Santa himself.

You see him quite regularly, and every interaction with him is as magical as the last. But as the year goes by, you notice that he starts to lose some of his… glow. The twinkle in his eye grows dim, the rosiness in his cheeks fades away, he loses his distinctive sugar cookie scent, and even his round belly grows smaller and smaller until there’s almost nothing left.

You’re too polite to comment on someone’s appearance, but you also don’t understand how this could be happening. Everything about the North Pole is invigorating and full of life. The longer you live here, the more you feel its influence. You can even see it when you look in the mirror. Each day, your reflection glows a little more brightly, so how could Santa be losing his own glow?

In the last few weeks leading up to Christmas, you truly begin to worry for Santa. At this point, if it weren’t for the beard and red suit, you wouldn’t even be able to tell he’s Santa at all. It’s like all the magic has gone out of him. But whenever you ask if he’s okay, he simply chuckles, pats your head, and assures you not to worry. But you do worry. You even ask the elves about it in hushed tones, but they just laugh and dismiss your concerns.

On the night of Christmas Eve, Santa’s workshop is a whirl of activity as everyone makes last minute preparations for the Big Night, yet Santa looks as un-Santa-like as ever. Still, no one seems concerned about this, least of all Santa. And amidst all the other hustle and bustle, the elves still manage to find time to prepare the grandest feast you have ever seen. Turkey and ham and potatoes and gravy and green beans and cookies and ice cream and cakes and pie.

In the final hour before Santa’s departure, everyone sits down to eat. You’re at the head of the table while Santa sits all the way across from you at the other end. Every dish you try is the tastiest thing you’ve ever eaten. Even more so than all you’ve had in the last year (and you’ve had a lot of good food in the past year.) You can’t help yourself as you try each dish at the table, going back for seconds and then going back for thirds on all you favorites.

The only thing that puts a damper on your spirit is that Santa himself doesn’t really touch his food. But the elves don’t seem perturbed. They’re all feasting away. And when Santa catches you watching him, he smiles that same warm smile at you, a ghost of a twinkle in his eye.

After that, you’re too embarrassed to be caught looking at him again. You put your head down and pretend nothing is amiss. It’s only when you’ve eaten so much you feel like you’re going to burst does the feast end.

As soon as it’s over, the elves swarm about, cleaning up the table. Meanwhile, you hang back, trying to stay out of the way and nervously waiting as Santa makes a few last minute adjustments before his trip. You know your year in the North Pole is nearly up. You know the time to say goodbye is fast approaching. Something tells you that you’ll never see this place again, and the very thought of it fills you with a terrible, aching sadness.

Finally, Santa approaches, and you know it’s time to go.

“Come with me,” he murmurs once he draws near. “There’s one last gift I need to finish and I want you to be a part of it.”

You blink in confusion as he beckons you to follow. This is not what you’d expected, but you’re not going to argue. If Santa needs your help, after all he’s done for you, the least you can do is comply. Besides, if it means staying here a little bit longer, you’ll happily go along with it.

A little uncertainly, you follow him away from all the elves and into Santa’s private workshop. You’ve never been in here before, and you marvel at the wonders within. So many beautifully and masterfully crafted toys. You wonder how in the world you can help with one of these gifts. They all seem perfect already.

You hardly notice when Santa shuts the door quietly behind you. Your attention only returns to him when he puts his hands on your shoulders and turns you to face him.

You swallow as he looks you up and down with his icy blue eyes.

“Wh- what’s the gift you need help with?” you ask, thrown off by the intensity of his gaze.

Instead of answering, he merely smiles again and says, “I’m so very proud of you for all you’ve done to inhabit the spirit of Christmas. If it weren’t for people like you, Christmas wouldn’t be able to happen at all.”

You feel the heat rise in your cheeks. Your heart is soaring with elation. You don’t think you’ve ever received such high praise. “Of course,” you squeak. “You’re welcome.”

“Merry Christmas, my child,” he mutters before leaning down and planting a light kiss on your forehead. You feel a little electric shock go through you from the contact.

And then your insides shift and you freeze as things take an unexpected turn. The kiss turns into something so much more, and suddenly you feel your entire head being engulfed by Santa’s mouth.

It’s only when he begins to swallow you down that you realize something is very wrong. You start to panic. You struggle and kick and beg to be released, but none of it has any effect. You just feel more and more of your body sliding down Santa’s throat and being crammed into his stomach. By the time your feet join you inside, you’re sobbing and fighting for your life. But it’s all in vain. You’re trapped.

After several long minutes of trying to escape, you tire yourself out, curl into a ball, and resign yourself to your fate.

You can’t believe this is happening. After so much wonder and magic, you end up here, betrayed by Santa, someone you’ve loved and trusted your whole life. And you thought he loved you in return.

At least it doesn’t feel too bad in here. It’s actually quite soft and warm with a sugary sweet smell. You’re reminded of that first night you’d met Santa and the sugar cookie scent that had followed him. You’d almost forgotten about that. It had disappeared so long ago…

And then you’re surprised when you feel someone rubbing at you from outside and hear Santa’s voice.

“There you go,” his voice rumbles all around you. “Just relax in there.”

“Santa!” you call and push back where you feel his hand. “Please!”

But Santa doesn’t miss a beat. “Unfortunately, I can’t let you out, but you’re giving the greatest gift anyone can give.”

You go still. “What do you mean?”

You’re not sure if he can hear you, but still he goes on to explain. “You see, I can’t actually produce my own magic. Instead, all magic in this world resides in you, in humans. You attract it to you and absorb it. Only you all cannot sense it or control it. But I can.

“So every year, to keep the magic of Christmas going, I must take the magic from a single human who best inhabits the spirit of Christmas. The past year you’ve spent here has only strengthened the magic within you. I’m sorry to do this, but it’s the only way to rekindle my magic. I hope you understand.”

You kick out and very colorfully explain that you don’t understand, but now you’re sure he can’t hear you because you only receive a distracted pat in response. It’s then you realize there’s nothing else you can do. This is how it ends for you.

You can feel every little movement as Santa leaves his workshop and climbs into his sleigh. And then, for the next few hours, you feel him squeezing through chimneys and stacking presents beneath trees. He doesn’t acknowledge your squirms and occasional kicks beyond a distracted rub and a comforting word. So you’re surprised when you suddenly hear what sounds like him conversing with someone else.

You strain your ears and are able to make out what Santa’s saying, “So as a gift for your enduring generosity, I’d like to invite you to spend the next year with me in the North Pole.”

You go still. You know those words.

Then you hear a muffled reply from whoever Santa is talking to, and before you know it, Santa is back in his sleigh with his new human. For the rest of the night, you listen to the two of them chatting amicably. You even overhear Santa telling them that they can feed the reindeer. And every once in awhile, you can feel Santa lovingly caress you within his stomach. You have flashbacks to one year ago when you were on the outside and witnessed him doing the same.

Then everything clicks together. You’re not the first to end up here. And you certainly won’t be the last.

And so the night comes to a close. You feel Santa return to the North Pole and listen to him bid his new human goodnight before heading to bed himself. As you will yourself to sleep too, you wonder how long this is going to last…

You end up remaining inside Santa for far longer than you expect. From what you can tell, you’re in there for months. You never feel any pain, but you can tell your physical body is slowly being broken down and absorbed. It gets harder and harder to find the strength to move, but every time you do, you’re once more met with a comforting rub and a few soft words.

As the months go by, not only do you lose the strength to move (you’re not even sure if there’s anything left of your physical body to move), but you find it harder and harder to stay conscious of what’s going on outside your little prison. But you’re roused just enough when you hear Santa say one last sentence to someone on the outside.

“I have one last gift to finish, and I want you to be a part of it.”

What little remains of your consciousness flutters a bit as you recognize those words and realize it must have been a full year now. It’s time for you to be replaced.

And just as you have this thought, you feel everything slip away, and you’re met with a void of endless darkness. There’s quiet and freedom. At last, you find peace.

[coldtortelloni]

just a quick doodle of harley, that's all

[furiousgoldfish]

abusers will tell you that you're too weak, pathetic and incapable to survive without them and then at the same time demand you to be resilient enough to withstand abuse, threats and violence

[nerdsandqueens]

I really thought I could get away with not conceptualizing Andruil as anything other than a background affinity in Ghilan'nain's story. But it's clear that her relationship with Ghilan'nain was one of the big things about w/e is going on with her. And the opportunity to write wlw isn't a downside.

Problem is, all the lore I can cobble about Andruil is... something.

Leaning toward the less than flattering and less dimensional in characterization. Just like all the Evanuris, it begs the question what they were like other than demented individuals. Despite some implications, it's far more interesting to think Ghil had an active hand in her own descent into villainy. A desire only encouraged, not orchestrated by another. But also not wholly innate.

The juxtaposition of a softer person and the choice to become the complete antithetical opposite is evocative. A total corruption of a former self deemed weak - nothing more than to be a sacrificial lamb for your better self to be carved out of. Ultimately to be left behind and forgotten.

I think once Ghil's mind was made, she destroyed her own creations systematically to ascend ala crimson behelit from Berserk. I like to think one aspect of her that makes her terrifying is that once she makes a decision, she carries it out like an robot that can do nothing else. She has decided to perfect you. With very little remorse. Very little feeling. Perhaps in the guise of sacrifice. Perhaps not. Look how beautiful you are - crafted in her design.

And it would cheapen Ghilan'nain's eminence to attribute all her villainy to Andruil. Please, I would never be so insulting to the Mother of the Halla in all her grace. 🦌🙇‍♂️

I want something far more complex.

All I can think of now is that Andruil is probably the most terrifying version of Athena you could ever imagine. And that's hot. I can work with that. Worth contorting yourself for.

[stormvanari]

“class” doodles

[thefanciestborrower]

You know what I’d also be offended if someone tried to dip me in mayo. He’d go much better with ginger sauce thank you very much

[lionblaze03-2]

mousefur and longtail are both asexual aromantic in some sort of qpr relationship with one another. Do you get it do you see my vision

[vroomian]

Ollie's an absolute heartthrob. Especially with the short hair. And super built, I am swooning! She popular in Hell?

oh there were a few moments in the beginning where she had to fend off Val's offers for a job. Unfortunately for him, Ollie is a homebody who stays in her workshop, and has her maid/assistant Thea do her outside errands.

(I'm thinking despite her appearance Ollie is actually a very gifted technomancer/artificer. She can fix or create just about anything with enough time. which is how Alastor and her meet at first!

someone's gotta fix his microphone after all!)

Ollie's actually very intimidating to most demons, just from her size and build. But yeah she is verrrry popular, especially with the ladies lol.

[yougirlsyoudrivemecrazy]

Some of my fictional crushes.

This is just some…I have many many many more….

[heartbreakincident]

this line to an nb step felt soooo loaded, like. in what way, exactly, were you trying to tell eden you were gay, chen. to imply interest, or to imply disinterest? in context, it really seemed like the latter (and eden certainly took it as that).

especially since he's now bringing it up AGAIN in the context of his lingering crush on ortega AGAIN. eden is wondering if he has to start putting on the clown makeup.