#vore attempt

[nightmarevore]

honestly sad that vore audio is a bit of a lost art. it’s very good and i wish there was more of it.

[suzyandthefox]

50 Vore dialogue prompts if you even care

(Some of these will have heavier themes like self harm/suicide/etc, they meant to be used in soft safe nonsexual scenarios however)

(Tone of dialogue is up to you)

1: "Where am I?"

2"You're in my belly"

3: "Is it safe here?"

4: "I would have never done it if it wasn't safe "

5: "I'm scared"

6:"I'm all around you now"

7: "Just go on, eat me and end my misery"

8: "If you wish to die, then let me be your grave"

9: "Let me be home to you"

10: "Are you okay in there?"

11: "It's really wonderful here, thank you"

12: "You're safe now"

13: "Enough fighting, you can rest now"

14: "Let me swallow, for the sake of both of us,"

15: "What's that?"

16: "That's my heart"

17: "I didn't mean to do it, I'm sorry"

18: "I wish you just cut my head off instead of this,"

19: "Let me show you what happens to insolent little fools like you"

20: "I will give you the worst meal of your life!"

21: "You're staying with me, right?"

22:"I'm tired, can I sleep?"

23:"Sleep if you need to, I will be here when you wake up"

24: "What's happening?!"

25: "I'm not ready yet! Wait!"

26: "Place your trust in me, you have no one else after all."

27:"Your journey was meant to end in my mouth"

28:"Can you open your mouth for me?"

29:"Gentle,please, I'm still new to this."

30:"I almost want to go all the way down."

31:" Your throat is very... Inviting."

32: "Does it hurt when I touch here?"

33: "You're fascinating, "

34: "You taste horrible."

35:" Glad to know that you're suffering"

36:" Your stomach is empty, did you eat anything today?"

37:" I hate that I don't hate this"

38:" Please don't cry, you're going to be alright."

39: "Be careful please. "

40:" Don't go too deep, I won't be able to let you out."

41:" I'm trying to help you,"

42:" You're hurting me"

43:" I didn't think it would be so nice here."

44:" Be glad I agreed to this."

45:" You're very brave for this. "

46:" I'm bored, so I'm going to make it your problem. "

47:" Good luck trying to get out. "

48:" You're cute, I want to keep you in there forever."

49:" Entertain me, maybe I wouldn't eat you."

50: "Thank you, I owe you so much for this,"

[acorncake]

Could hank eat me pretry please 🥺🥺🥺 he's só handsome In your style

Hes not picky about who he eats

[blaackbiird]

I'll understand if you want to leave

[nomstellations]

They finally had their prey cornered. Having snatched them up into an alleyway after following them for a while, they loomed over their catch with a delightfully devilish grin. "I finally got you...don't even bother fighting. No one saw you, and no one will help you...~"

Their prey didn't cry out, or beg for mercy, or...anything. They pulled out their phone disinterestedly and started scrolling through it. "Oh, go ahead and try calling for help! All they'll hear is the sound of you being devoured~"

"Yeah yeah, sure."

They blinked, befuddled. Weren't they scared of being eaten? "Hey, I'm TALKING to you! I'm going to eat you!"

"I heard you the first time." They rolled their eyes, clearly not too worried about it. "Are you actually going to do it? I kinda had errands to run and you're interrupting them." "Y-you should be terrified! You should be begging me to stop, you s-"

"Whatever, you're not even going to follow through. I'm out." Brushing off the predator's arm, their former catch left the confused predator behind in the alleyway.

[wutwutno1]

This was way funnier in my head

[kayla-crazy-stuffs]

I Won't Let You Die (ShiIta)

Finally wrote something again wooo, so here I come with Naruto Shippuden content :)

Enjoy :]

TW: Safe/Soft Vore, kinda unwilling prey, attemted suicide, talk about eyes being taken out

Shisui was saved by Itachi just in time, being taken away from the anbus led by Danzo, who had stolen his right eye.

“Itachi… I thought you were… on a mission…” he said.exhausted, while looking at Itachi. “I felt like something was wrong so… I decided to come back..” he responded, clearly worried about his friend.

“I'm glad…” Shisui said as he looked at him with a small, slight smile. “I'm sorry for the inconvenience…” Itachi only shook his head. “You need to rest Shisui-…” “I need to talk to you first, Itachi…��� He interrupted, clearly implying that it was important.

Itachi nodded, understanding his friend. Shisui guided him to a cliff that ended in a river and turned to Itachi. "It seems that there will be no way to stop the clan's coup... Just when I was going to start the mission, Danzo stole my right eye so I can no longer use the Kotoamatsukami" he said.

“If the other villages find out about the Uchiha rebellion, they could invade us and it would be an all-out war… And that would have big consequences”...

He let out a small sigh before looking at Itachi. "Danzo didn't trust me to stop the coup so he will surely come for my left eye, that's why I will give it to you.." he continued as he took out his left eye and handed it to Itachi, who placed it in one of his crows.

“I can only trust you, my best friend. Protect our village and the name of the Uchiha..” “I have accepted it.. What will you do now…?” Itachi asked him, still a little worried. “Who knows if my death will change the situation a little… I have already left a note…”

Itachi's eyes widened in socks. “Wait, Shisui…-!” “Don't stop me Itachi…!” Shisui said, prepared to fall backwards, when in a second he felt slightly nauseous, falling to his knees before being picked up and held by hands larger than him.

“...Itachi...? Why…-?" "..I won't let you die Shisui..." Itachi interrupted before placing the ninja reduced to 4 inches into his mouth. He held him in for a few seconds before swallowing, feeling him go down his throat and into his stomach a few moments later.

Shisui let out a slight sigh as he settled into the warm, soft spot, leaning against one of the stomach walls. He didn't think Itachi would use that jutsu to prevent his death. He looked around trying to remember what his friend's stomach looked like, mostly because he couldn't see it since he didn't have the eyes to see, keeping his eyelids closed.

After a brief moment to make sure Shisui was alright, he quickly headed towards the Hokage, but not before picking up Shisui's note, since it would be pointless leaving it there if Shisui was going to survive. He explained the situation to the Third, who said that he would take action against Danzo and that they’ll regain Shisui's right eye.

After a few days they managed to recover Shisui's eye and transplanted both of his eyes back. With that resolved, Shisui was able to put his clan under the genjutsu they had planned to put on them to postpone the rebellion and be able to reach an agreement with them later.

//

The sky was clear and the breeze was blowing gently. Shisui let out a soft sigh as he looked at the sky, looking back when he heard someone approaching. “Hey, Itachi…” he said with a slight smile. The other Uchiha waved back and sat next to him.

"You know... You didn't have to go to the point of commit suicide, Shisui... Even if it was for our village and the clan..." he said softly without looking at his friend.

"I guess I was rushing into thinking that I couldn't get my right eye back and put our clan into genjutsu..." He paused for a moment and looked at Itachi sympathetically, knowing how he felt.

“...I'm sorry, Itachi…” This time he did look at Shisui, sighing slightly before giving a small smile. “Just promise me you won't do something like that again without considering other options, okay?”

Shisui gave a small laugh before smiling again. "Alright Itachi, I promise." He paused for a moment before looking at Itachi with a raised eyebrow.

“By the way, could you do the jutsu thing again? I couldn’t observe my surroundings well during that moment.” Itachi just laughed at the comment. “Okay, when would you like to?”

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

tag list

@local-squishmallow @brick-a-doodle-do

if anyone else wants to be tagged, ask me :]

[vorekody]

Calamari

Honey (drawn for the billionth time) tearing up Larken - whose guts I showed off here-

[cellohorsead]

No way, a hungry Kirin before 8/8?!? Illegal!

Wowie, what's this? Blatant posing within the gulping action of some hungry ass Kirin? Golly! It is the day before 8/8, and because of it, my brain is as empty as... idk, something hollow. I got not much to say aside from beware! Hungry kirins out there are quite dangerous, especially on 8/8! Dorks, nerds, and any other sort, beware of such a danger c: Oh, and yes, I do plan to share the one shameless story of Partisan and Pepper doing stuff. It's self-indulgent, has no proper plot, and is very much a byproduct of feederism brainrot I suffered from lmao

[quotemenevervore]

Hehehe I finished that rewritten section really fast

Content warnings: soft, safe g/t vore, parties are unaware it’s safe, character thinking he’d killed the other, character having bad thoughts about themselves, character attempting to throw up, mention of the prison but not what happened in it

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Dream perked up at the mention of the potions, and busied himself by going and collecting a good amount of them while George moved to the living room to try and relax until he couldn’t push it off any longer.

Sure enough, the other returned quickly with a piece of string, a totem of undying, and several potions. A good amount of them were splash potions of healing and regen, and then two regular potions, one of night vision and the other of shrinking. Setting the bottles carefully on the table, he handed the totem over to the brunette before sitting down on the sofa beside him. He pulled out his communicator, sending off a quick message before shutting it off and pulling a book out. “Who did you just message?” “Told Sapnap we couldn’t hang out today. He hadn’t made plans to, but you know how he is.” Not even a moment had passed before George got a message, opening his communicator only to read from Quackity, ‘don’t have too much fun with Dream ;)’ Groaning, he quickly replied ‘we’re not doing anything, we’re investigating something important. Fuck off’

“Should have waited until he got here to say anything. Now Quackity is gonna lord this over my head forever.” “You think yours is bad? Sapnap’s been blowing my messages up, I can tell.” The brunette snorted at the reply, tilting his head to get a peek at the cover of the book. “It’s just some basic stuff. Like a tutorial book, I guess would be a good word for it. Figured it would pass the time.” “Can I read it?” “I guess. Here.” Dream moved the book and himself so the two were sitting leg to leg, setting the book down between the two of them. “Better read fast, though.”

They got through the entire book before Dream finally became impatient enough to ask. “How long has it been since-“ “It’s been about forty five minutes. I guess if we’re gonna do it now would be the time.” George began uncorking the potions, drinking the night vision first before his face scrunched up at the scent of the other. He powered through, forcing himself to drink it as Dream got the other things ready. When George had finally shrunken to the five inches he usually became, the blonde already had the string ready to tie a knot around the other’s waist. He tied it as securely as he could, watching the other’s face for any sign that he made it too tight. The brunette wouldn’t lie, seeing the amount of concern the other was putting into making sure this went okay put a warm feeling in his chest, and he couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face.

At the same time, he couldn’t help the curiosity building inside him either. He’d always been stored by Sapnap, and Quackity had yet to have a chance to store him. Would being stored by someone without those instincts really be so different? He genuinely didn’t know what to expect, and it made the fluttery feeling in his stomach grow, but not out of fear. The knot was secure, the totem was in his inventory, and his communicator was in his pocket, waiting for him to start the call when he finally made it down. There was no way he could get gravely injured with all the precautions they put in place, and all that was left to do was see how this went.

“Ready?” Dream asked softly, and George didn’t hesitate before giving him a nod.

Getting eaten by three different people all the time gave Dream an advantage he hadn’t thought about before; He knew the best way to get George ready to be swallowed without causing him discomfort. He didn’t even get anywhere near the other’s teeth when he’d been gently placed into his mouth, and the movements around him were nothing short of calculated but gentle. It did not take long at all for him to be nudged back, and his nerves began to grow again. Even with the precautions they had in place, something could always go wrong. Gripping the totem of undying tightly in his hand, he used the other to pat at the tongue below him.

That was the sign Dream had been looking for, as he was then pushed the rest of the way back and tugged down with a soft swallow. Almost instantly, his friend gave a choked sound, and he froze up completely. “Dream!?” “String.” The larger rasped out, swallowing again and again to send him further down enough that his airway could clear and hopefully help the scratchy feeling the string left behind.

His hands were shaking badly due to the painful sensation, and honestly he should have expected an outcome like this. When the string was jerked out of his weak grasp to his next swallow, his mind froze in shock. He jammed his fingers into his mouth, trying to grasp the end of it before it was gone, but he was helpless to stop it as he swallowed a final time, the last of the string disappearing from his mouth.

Well… at least his throat didn’t hurt so bad now. The second his airways were clear, he was hyperventilating, scrambling to his feet to rush to the bathroom. He needed to let George out, he needed to let him out now they didn’t know if this was safe he couldn’t let anything happen to his best friend-

His throat hurt still, and he was shaking with adrenaline and fear, heart racing as he tried to make himself throw up. He would have thought feeling so sick at the thought of hurting his friend would make it a little easier for him to succeed at that goal, but all he was doing was dry heaving. Tears dripped down his face as he kept trying, unable to bear the thought of something happening.

It only occurred to him that it was a potion side effect when his abdomen was completely sore along with his throat and he still hadn’t thrown up George or the berry, only the saliva from his mouth. Collapsing against the vanity, he started full-on sobbing, arms wrapped around his stomach. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry George, it was a stupid idea you were right-“ his communicator began to ring, and he almost ignored it, he almost threw it against the wall. He didn’t want to talk to anyone after this, not after he was the reason George was going to die. Maybe Sam would lock him up in the prison, it’d be what he deserved-

He only faltered when he saw just who was calling. He answered immediately, shakily holding the com up to his ear. “Stop! Stop crying, you’re literally disorienting me, for Prime’s sake-“ “George?” His voice was raspy and weak, as if in disbelief. “I’m fine, I’ve been trying to tell you I’m fine but you couldn’t hear me! You need to calm down, Dream.” “Are you-“ “The berry’s whole. The potion shuts your system down completely, I’m safe. Just breathe, okay?” Now that the organ he was in wasn’t jumping around as often as before, he could feel his own fear beginning to subside.

~ ~ ~

When he’d been dropped into his stomach he couldn’t figure out for the life of him why Dream was freaking out, his heart beating rapidly enough to raise concern in him. It wasn’t until he felt something fall into the organ with him that he realize what had happened, finding the end of the string and holding it up to the communicator so he could identity it. “…Shit.” He whipped around, directing the light towards the other side of the stomach, searching for the berry and finding it whole with a sigh of relief. At least he wasn’t in danger. Of course, he couldn’t even begin to relax at that point, as the other began trying to empty his stomach, the walls clenching and relaxing around him and throwing him around as they attempted and failed to bring him back up. “..Dream? What are you-“ the next attempt threw his balance off, and he landed in an ungraceful heap on the floor, groaning as he tried to sit up again. His fingers were wrapped tightly around his communicator, knuckles white as he tried to keep his bearings as his friend continued to try and throw him up. He needed to get the other’s attention, he needed to calm him down. “Dream! Dream, it’s okay. You gotta calm down.” He tried rubbing at the stomach walls, something he did with Sapnap knowing it made him relax, but he got no kind of positive response, only hearing his friend give up, and begin to sob, shaking the organ worse than before. With a sigh, he pulled his hand away.

“Dream? Dream! I’m okay, I’m safe!” “I’m sorry, I’m sorry George-“ he can’t hear me, he realized. Quickly pulling up his contact on the com he wasted no time dialing him.

~ ~ ~

Eventually, the blonde had managed to get his breaths back to the semi-calm it had been before, wiping the last of his tears away as his shoulders slumped against the vanity. “Are.. are you sure you’re okay?” “Yea. Berry’s completely fine.” “George, how am I supposed to bring you up? The potion makes it impossible to throw up.” “I.. dunno. We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it.” The brunette tried once more to rub at the walls surrounding him, trying to ease them of their tenseness. Thankfully, it worked this time, Dream relaxing more around him. “Should I swallow another string-“ “I said we’d cross that bridge when we got to it. You’re just stressing yourself out. Go lay down.” “George-“ “Go lay down or I’m calling Sapnap.” A frustrated sigh answered him, but at least the admin listened, if the movement around him meant anything.

Once everything settled down again, he felt something press against him.

“..Guess I could tell Skeppy and Bad what the potion does.” “Make sure your voice is better first. You know how much Bad worries.” “My voice is as good as it’s gonna get.” As George scoffed at the response, his call was ended, and before he could complain about that as well, Dream spoke up, his voice echoing around him. “If something happens, tap three times. One for yes, two for no otherwise. Sound good?” He tapped the wall once before continuing to rub at it, now trying to distract instead of comfort the larger. A content sigh sounded above him, and he relaxed as he felt something- Dream’s hand, what else could it have been- rub against him from outside. Not that it was hard to relax, of course. Dream wasn’t as warm as Sapnap, not by a long shot, but the darkness and the warmth was comfortingly familiar, along with the larger’s heart beating and breathing now that it had settled. Even his voice, which had become mostly background noise as he spoke to their demon friend, was a comforting rumble to relax to. As his eyes closed, he wondered if maybe he should have let Dream know he was falling asleep.

He found he didn’t really care. He’d deal with it when he woke up.

[fastfur07]

Ok, here's a slightly riskier idea:

A prey is kidnapped and taken to a vore-based restaurant, whose clientele is… not the catch-and-release type. Their pred, while searching for them, goes unwittingly to the same restaurant, only to have their own prey served to them.

[gorgin-gals-muses]

"Of course, I could surely go for more!" Fubuki ate two turkey legs. "And more?"

"And more!" Fubuki ate a plate of fries. "And more?"

"And- HUOOOARP- more!" Fubuki ate a tin of brownies, groaning. "And more?"

"And... mnah.. mo- URP more..." Fubuki ate a quart of ice cream, clutching her oozing, overfilled gut. "And more?"

"A- urgh... and... huff- mmmnnn... more..." Fubuki ate two beef bowls, feeling her stomach go numb, pinning her to the chair with its weight. "And more?"

"Oourp... no... no more." Fubuki didn't want to eat that. "No... more? Aren't you hungry?"

"..."

"Yes." "Then eat."

"..."

"OOUUAAAAAAUUUUURRRRrrrpp."

Fubuki had never felt more full in her entire life, completely unable to reach past the spherical mass of her bloated, packed gut, she felt her food thrash and buckle within her as she digested. Her mind and body felt like tiny extensions of her belly. She ate... what did she eat? She couldn't remember.

Maybe it didn't matter. She gasped and heaved. All she wanted...

"..."

"Is there any more?"

[maw-and-pawp]

I've been having some hurt/comfort thoughts for awhile now. I might make some ocs around this. SFW, platonic (queerplatonic?), victim blaming, blood mention, background murder, found family, angst and fluff, vore-adjacent.

A pred and a prey duo, in an unlikely friendship. The pred is smaller than the prey, and is somehow vegetarian, but is definitely still intimidating to the prey due to their long claws and sharp teeth and stoic face. They're aware that they come off as threatening to others, and do their best to be kind with their actions, and hide their claws in thick gloves. Besides, if no one knows exactly what they're capable of with those claws, then the chances of being traced back to their "nightshift" are low.

The prey is a survivor of an almost fatal digestion, and they would've been just another victim if their pred hadn't saved them and brought them to a hospital in time. Since then, the prey has both developed trauma from the encounter, and a fragile bond with the pred. The pred insisted to give them their number, afterall. To call just in case they needed help again. For anything.

They started talking, and one thing led to another, and now it's a common occurrence to find the pred in the prey's apartment, taking care of stuff the prey can't always manage on their own now. Making sure the prey doesn't forget to care for themself, helping them run down to the laundromat, cooking for the both of them when the prey can't get out of bed. The pred has been helping them when their family is either too far away to, or blames the prey for what happened (you wouldn't have been taken if you hadn't been alone that night, we raised you better than to go to a mixed bar, let alone by yourself). Because of that, they keep the pred's night time habits to themself, and pointedly do not ask about the faint smell of blood whenever the pred shows up in the mornings. They don't want to know (and they'd like to keep plausible deniability, thank you).

The prey's been going to a support group for others like them. People who were lucky. Someone suggested something like exposure therapy once, mostly as a joke (which wasn't well received). Which...honestly at this point, the prey is tired of being a live wire after what happened, and they would do just about anything to just Go Back To Normal now. So the idea stuck. All they had to do is work up the courage. The prey doesn’t fully trust the pred afterall. They can't after what happened, and what they know the pred is doing to other preds. It's not illegal, technically, if sufficient evidence is found that it truly was in spontaneous aid to a caught prey. But it's not spontaneous. And the pred isn't going to court.

But the pred did say that it was ok to ask for help, even for the 'small' things. Not once have they made them feel like they were anything other than a person...a dear friend. Right. A dear friend. It would be fine.

So they ask to listen to the pred's stomach one weekend. The pred is flustered, confused, stoic face twisted up into a look something like they just got slapped in the face with a fish. Which would be funny, if the prey's heart wasn't trying to run out of their chest from nerves. They quietly explain what they mean to the pred, and the pred's eyes soften in understanding, face unscrunching into something once again unreadable.

The pred is...awkward. If the prey wasn't wholly consumed with their own worries, they would've picked up on the pred's rigid stance as fears of their own...They can't remember the last time someone had touched without the intention to hurt, or to take. And they need to be calm, or their big prey friend will be on edge and that would defeat the point. And their friend deserves to feel safe. Heaven help anyone who takes that away.

They set up in the living room. A cushiony chair is pulled up - a small couch really - and they somehow maneuver the pred to sit in it and the prey to kneel without saying a word. Lots of awkward shuffling, and a pillow for the prey's knees later, and the prey is nosing into the pred's stomach gently.

It's tense underneath their face, and the prey can hear the pred's breath hitch when they first make contact. Slowly, the pred relaxes into the touch, when pain doesn't come. The pred still grips the seat like a lifeline. (It's dizzying, to be so vulnerable, and to do it on purpose)

Then, the prey takes a breath, and presses their ear to the rumbling gut beneath them (it was just before lunch, like they planned). It whined and begged and burbled, warm and hungry. It sends a cold jolt of fear through them, making them freeze. It sounds so loud, so needy, just like it was when it was all around them that night when the acids started flowing in -

Tears are wiped away before they even know it exists. The pred strokes a finger gently through the fur between their eyes, hesitant but firm. They hush the prey, remind them that it's safe. They can stop if they need to. They don't even have to do this at all. They sound close to tears themself. The prey looks up into their face.

The gaze is piercing as it always is. But not unkind. They really would stop if the prey gave the word. They'd get up and get on with their days, and the prey wouldn't be just a meal stewing away inside their pred friend. The pred is more hungry for the tofu in the fridge than them, and their pred is a full head shorter anyways. Even if they wanted to, their pred couldn't take them past the point of no return.

(They wonder what it's like to be so short. Preds were usually a head taller than the prey or more. Perhaps their pred isn't a vegetarian by choice at all - they can't catch anyone being so small. They might also not be quick and strong and lethal by choice either...it must be easy to confuse the pred for a prey, or it might not functionally matter to some)

Armed with this knowledge, the prey nuzzles back in without a word. Their pred's breath hitches again, and comes out shaky when the prey snakes a hand upwards to run their thumb gently over their clothed lower belly. The same comforting little circles that their pred had been rubbing between their eyes a moment ago. They tense along with the motion, and the prey goes rigid again as the wet glorps roar again under their sensitive ears, announcing to the world just how much their pred's tummy was enjoying the attention (even if it would prefer attention from the inside at the moment). The prey counts the pred's climbing heartbeat, and stubbornly holds on even as they (both) shake in restrained fear. As the hour passes, they've never felt so safe and yet so afraid.

They decide that it's been a productive day, schedule another encounter next weekend, and break for lunch. No, the prey did not eat the last of the tofu, thank you very much. They much prefer the beansprouts anyways.

[luckyshotwrites]

since the other anon already asked. is xander ever going to see lynette as something other than food? and does lyenette consider any of the coworkers as a friend

Hmmmmmmmmmmm

I cannot answer the first one, I KNOW it's a wait and I'm sorry.

I feel organically speaking it wouldn't be rushed because they only work together. They've had very few interactions outside of that setting, but nothing too deep.

Lynette at this point is far to passive and doesn't know how to approach things quite yet. And Alexander- actually more will be explained later.

Does Lynette consider any of them friends: Out of all of them, she thinks Viola and June are friend material. However as she moved quite frequently she doesn't always know how to approach friendships. Nor how to get to know someone better, etc. She still tries to be friendly and nice to anyone she meets though.

On night crew, she's weary of Drake, but trusts him the most out of everyone there. So in her eyes, he's nearly a friend.

(Now, Lynette would not introduce any of them to Wicks. She'd be afraid Viola and or the others might attack him as he's not on the same contract, and that June might spill the monster beans. XD

Funnily enough, she'd maybe be willing to introduce him to Drake. Only because she doubts he'd attack Wicks, and Drake acts really calm compared to the others).

I hope this answered your questions well enough and THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THEM!!

Again, I'm sorry it's a slow burn. There's so many characters/stuff I have to set up with these chapters. It's like- I just put a bag of popcorn in the microwave, all those little threads or passing remarks are the kernels, and I promise, once it starts THEY all are going to start popping. I hate waiting to trust me.

HAVE A SWELLARINO DAY, COOL CAT!~~~

[emrynbird]

She yearned for freedom and solace from her familial home. He wished for companionship after a life of isolation. After a chance encounter at a masquerade ball, a deal is struck between the two to provide what the other desires. But as the horror behind unspoken truths becomes known, this marriage of convenience takes a dark and emotional turn that thrills her...and frightens him...

In the Jaws of an Oak is an illustrated erotic monster romance that is one part Regency fairytale and one part "Bloodborne-esque" horror, following an aromantic woman who is a survivor of abuse and a noble, cursed beast. For fans of Beauty and the Beast retellings where the beast only becomes more monstrous instead of turning human.  

This novella is 34k words with 18 illustrations, includes aromantic, pan, and sapphic representation, and will available August 14th, 2024 on Amazon and itch.io in epub, PDF, and paperback formats.

For full content warnings, see below...

This story explores themes of abuse and grief through the framing of the FMC’s newly found kinks surrounding fear and the MMC testing the limits of his most monstrous qualities. While not seen on page, it is heavily implied the FMC is a survivor of sexual violence and incest. Birth control via herbal remedies is taken on page and there is a brief mention of pregnancy and childbirth. While a majority of this work is queernormative, there is a brief instance of homophobia (past). 

There is one violent death that is described on page that involves dismemberment and being eaten, while all others are briefly mentioned along with attempted filicide.

The FMC and MMC have a significant size difference, that is made even greater via the MMC transforming, and engage in sexual acts akin to BDSM, which include: teeth play, biting, choking, pinning/restraining, deep penetration, knotting, anal, fellatio, tongue fucking (oral, vaginal), and vore-adjacent death ideation.

[fiber-optic-alligator]

Hello! I’ve always been curious about the “human in a space shuttle somehow ends up on a cybertronian ship and all the bots are trying to figure out what this random metal this is while the human is terrified” plot.

It would be interesting to see it played out with any character, but for the sake of direction, I’d like to request this with the Lost Light Crew?

It could be vore if that’s what you feel like wrong at the time, but I’d also go for some good ‘ol fearplay.

I apologize if this is too vague, have a good day/night and I love your writing!

Thank you for the request Glitch! I hope this is up to your expectations! I hope you don't mind that I picked specific members of the Lost Light crew to include in this story. Feedback is always appreciated! Have a great day/night as well! :D

Doctor’s (And Scientist’s) Orders

Pairing: IDW Ratchet, IDW Perceptor, and IDW First Aid x Human Reader

Word Count: 3115

Summary: You are a teacher who is being sent from Earth to a colony on Mars. A new life as an educator for the red planet’s children is on your horizon…until you are thrown terribly off course and end up in the bowels of the Lost Light. All seems lost for you when you find yourself injured and cut off from human society, at the mercy of the three Cybertronians who end up finding you and taking you in, whether you want them to or not.

The first thing you hear when you come to is the horrid screeching of your ship's alarms.

  You groan and sit up. Smoke and flickering emergency lights greet you when you open your eyes. Electricity sparks from the stasis tank you were asleep in. Gas spurts from the ceiling, and everything is strewn about with the chaotic air of a tornado that just tore through an entire town.

“Warning,” your ship’s AI urgently alerts. “Breach detected. Damage is collateral. Warning-warning-” It sputters and fizzles out.

  You rub the back of your head and feel something warm and sticky coat your palm. When you pull your hand back to take a closer look, you see blood.

  Shit. That’s not good.

  Standing up makes you feel like you are going to puke. Your head throbs and every breath you take sends piercing pain through your chest. Dragging yourself out of the stasis pod takes longer than it should while black spots dot your vision as you stumble to the dashboard and press your hands against it. “Run ship diagnostics,” you manage to rasp. The voice that struggles to exit your mouth is one you hardly recognize. It is thin and strewn with violent coughs. A metallic taste coats your tongue. More blood.

  The AI glitches as it attempts to answer you. “Severe damage to hull. Severe damage to engines. Severe damage to thrusters. Life support online, but rapidly depleting. Escape pod offline.”

  “Shit,” you breathe. “Try contacting Earth control.”

  “Communications systems offline. Attempting self-repairs. Current status…5%.”

  “How long until repairs are complete?”

  “Estimations indicate repairs will be completed in…5 days.”

  Not good. Not good at all. You push yourself away from the dashboard and take in all that has happened. This was not how the mission was supposed to go. When you were chosen to be sent to Earth’s Mars colony as a teacher for the young children growing up on the red planet, you thought it would be a smooth seven month trip with you peacefully slumbering away in stasis. You were supposed to be woken up by fellow human beings, not a devastating crash resulting in your ship being decimated. Something must have thrown you off course. A freak asteroid strike probably. Which begs the question…where exactly are you?

  Ignoring how much pain you are in, you hobble through the remains of the vessel and head for the airlock doors. They remain tightly shut when you make it to them, hiding the knowledge of where you are from view. “Open the doors,” you call out to the ship.

  “Warning. Remaining onboard is strongly recommended. Current exterior environment is unknown.”

  “Override. Open the doors.”

  The doors whoosh apart. You know there’s oxygen outside. If there hadn’t been, the ship would have prevented you from even entering the airlock chamber in the first place. Stepping off, you expect to see the barren landscape of Mars, or the alien environment of some other planet you might have ended up on. Part of you thinks you might still be on Earth; perhaps something went wrong with the ship before you could even break the Troposphere.

  What you see surprises you. You are in some sort of…massive cargo hold.

  Gigantic metal crates surround you, most of them exuding a pinkish glow. There are lights on the ceiling far above you, but they are dim, and serve little aid in giving you an estimate of just how large this place is. Turning in a circle, you feel awe fill you. “Yeah,” you murmur to yourself. “The ship definitely didn’t crash on Mars.”

  Speaking of your ship…you take in the damage. It's an absolute mess of warped, crippled metal doomed to remain collapsed on its side until self-repairs are complete. It would take days, maybe even weeks, for damage of this caliber to be fixed beyond the communications systems. With no way to contact Earth or Mars, you truly are stuck.

  You close your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. Calm. You are calm. There is absolutely nothing to worry about. Yes, your ship is destroyed. Yes, you are suffering from critical wounds. Yes, you are in an unknown place with seemingly no way out. But you're alive. That’s what matters. And now you just have to survive for five more days.

  You hear thumping in the distance.

  It takes you a moment to register the pattern of heavy steps that are coming towards you. It’s something alive, you realize with dawning horror. Wherever you are, you have obviously made quite a racket, and now this planet’s local faunal residents are going to seek you out. There’s no way for you to know exactly what sorts of animals live here; any technology you might have used to your advantage is directly connected to the ship. With the ship offline, thus go the tools as well. You are completely in the dark, relying only on the little information about alien lifeforms you have to keep you safe.

  You don’t need that information to know you have to hide right now.

  You scurry back into the ship, biting back a shout of pain. God, there’s pain everywhere. How have you not passed out yet? Adrenaline does wonders for the human body, you sourly think to yourself when you have to lean against the wall to catch your breath. A hacking cough swells within your chest. When you cover your mouth with your elbow and release it, blood is splattered over your suit sleeve.

  That’s when you hear the growling.

  It’s unlike anything you have ever heard before. You’ve studied a multitude of animals. You’ve heard big cats roar, wolves howl, hyenas cackle, and birds screech. This is not a growl you can associate with any of those. It…holds similar qualities. But there’s something about it that remains blatantly off.

  It sounds strangely like the growl of a machine.

  You look outside of the airlock doors, and something huge lumbers out from behind a stack of crates. The first things your brain registers are its red and white armor platings, its bright blue eyes, and the horn-like finials extending from its forehead. It’s humanoid, yet possesses qualities that remove it from any such grouping. This thing is definitely not like you in any sort of way beyond having a face and walking on two legs.

  “It’s…a robot,” you whisper. It’s a giant fucking robot moving all on its own, and looking none too happy to be here.

  The mechanical creature snarls, lips upturning to reveal sharp canines that are probably longer than your arms. It hasn’t noticed you yet. Its focus is trained on the datapad it holds in its hands. Your mind is blown. This is obviously a member of a clearly intelligent race. Have you just discovered a new extraterrestrial species?

  The robot looks up. At first, its eyes scan the crates around you, and it doesn't seem to notice the little ship nestled between them. You remain still, prey instinct taking its course and demanding you freeze where you are. Hopefully it will just move on…

  It backtracks, and to your utter horror, it makes direct eye contact with you.

  Fucking shit, you think.

  The robot stares at you with an expression of pure shock. You stare right back with an equal amount of terror.

  It steps towards you. That’s all it takes for you to scream at the ship. “Close the airlock doors! Close them now!”

  The doors slam shut. You hear a shout from the robot, and everything shakes as it thunders forward. You stumble and fall with agony ripping through your poor body when you make contact with the floor. The cry that leaves you is riddled with pain.

  “A-Activate self-defense protocol!” you order the ship.

  “Self-defense protocols offline,” it says back.

  “Well, how long until they are online?!”

  “Estimated time equals…ten hours.”

  “That’s not enough!” you scream rawly.

  A gentle tapping echos from the other side of the doors.

  You push yourself back, heart pounding as you listen to the robot move all around you. It’s growling softly to itself, and you can hear it touching the ship, running massive mechanical fingers across the walls that act as the only barrier between you and potential doom.

  You don’t know what to do. Panic makes you frantic and you desperately try to think of how you can get yourself away from the monster outside. You have no way to defend yourself. You can’t even run. This thing wants you out, and you know it has the power to rip your ship apart in order to get to you if it wishes for it.

  Suddenly, everything rocks. Your stomach drops when the entire ship shakes and you feel it being lifted into the air. Realization of what is happening hits you: it’s picking it up. If it can’t get you, it’ll just have to take everything.

  “Nononono!” you cry out. The ship tips a little, and you slam into a wall with a grunt. “Stop!” You bang your fists against the metal. “Put it down! Put it down now!”

  The robot simply growls in reply. You don’t even know if it hears you. There’s nothing you can do to stop this. You slump back and cover your face as hot, helpless tears finally begin running down your cheeks.

  “What exactly is it?” First Aid asks as he peers down at the mangled hunk of metal sitting before them on the medibay berth.

  “It’s a ship,” Perceptor flatly replies with a silent “What else would it be?” evident in his tone.

  “This is a ship?” First Aid looks horrified. “But it's completely destroyed! How could it have gotten here?”

  “It must have crashed during our last refueling.” Perceptor lays his servos over the top of the ship, examining it closely. He huffs and straightens, looking at Ratchet. “Where did you find it?”

  “The cargo hold,” the medic replies. “I was down there searching for some extra medical supplies I know we have stored. I wouldn’t have seen it if it hadn’t been for what’s inside.”

  “There’s something alive in there?” First Aid gasps.

  “A human,” Ratchet replies. “It locked itself inside when it saw me.”

  “Impossible.” Perceptor shakes his helm. “Humans are an endangered species that only occupy a small sector of a primitive solar system. They don’t have the technology to make it this far out in space.”

  “Well, clearly they do. I know what I saw. These old optics aren’t that far gone.” Ratchet raps his knuckles gently against the ship. All three mechs have to lean in close so they can hear the soft squeak from inside.

  “How do we get it out?” First Aid asks. “It could be hurt!”

  “It is hurt,” Ratchet answers. “I saw it before it hid itself away. I don’t know how severe the injuries are, but I know it's in pain.”

  “Then what are we waiting for? We need to help it!” First Aid presses his forehelm against the ship and whispers softly. “Hello, little human? Please don’t be afraid! We aren’t going to hurt you!”

  A whimper is all he gains in reply.

  Perceptor crosses his arms. “I can force it out, but you won’t like how I do it.”

  “You can’t hurt it,” Ratchet sharply snaps. “That would be cruel.”

  “I’m not going to hurt it,” the scientist bites back. “I’m simply going to pump a nontoxic gas into the ship that will cause it to eventually lose consciousness. It will have no choice but to come out, and then we can go on from there.”

  “Are…are you sure?” First Aid wrings his servos nervously. “I don’t want it to be scared of us.”

  “Whether it’s scared of us or not doesn’t matter,” Ratchet says. “It’s injured, and if we don’t do something, it’ll succumb to those injuries. It’ll understand we don’t want to hurt it after we patch it up.” He nods to Perceptor. “Go ahead, smoke it out.”

  The scientist’s right servo transforms into a syringe. Ratchet watches with anxiousness churning in his tank as Perceptor presses his left index digit against the side of the ship and presses a small hole straight through with little resistance to stop him. A terrified shout from the human within causes First Aid to whimper.

  Perceptor sticks the upper part of the syringe into the hole, pumping gas into the ship and pulling it back out after a moment, wisps of vapor trailing from the tip. A few seconds later Ratchet hears a string of weak coughs from inside. There is a tense moment where all three of them stand there, and then the doors open and you stumble out with a cloud of gas nearly enveloping your tiny form. You wheeze into your servos, then notice the mechs staring at you and try sprinting right back into the ship. Perceptor cuts you off, slamming his servo down and pinning you under his digits before dragging you back even though you yelp and thrash. You squirm one last time in his grip before suddenly going limp.

  Perceptor gently shifts you to lie in the center of his palm. For a terrifying moment, Ratchet thinks you are offline when he sees how still you are with your optics closed. But then his sensors pick up on the rapid beating of your organic spark, and he relaxes. Not dead. Just simply unconscious.

  “Give it here.” He holds out a waiting servo. Perceptor hands you over; you are given a quick look-over as Ratchet scans your body. There is a nasty cut on the back of your helm, and your vents are gravely bruised with terrible red marks. “Internal bleeding,” he mutters. “As well as external wounds. The crash really messed it up.” He curls his digits lightly over you and brushes his thumb over your forehead. “Doesn’t have a fever though, which is good. Damage is minimal, nothing life threatening. I can have it fixed in a few hours.”

  “You know how to heal organics?” First Aid questions.

  “I’ve been around for a long time. War changes you. I’ve had my equal share of saving Decepticon-ravaged planets inhabited by organics as well as machines.” Ratchet walks over to another berth, being careful not to jostle you too much. “First Aid, go grab the restrainers. We’ll have to keep it still so it doesn’t accidentally hurt itself when it wakes up.”

  “You’ll have to keep it sedated too,” Perceptor says. “I can help with that. Just a little puff of the gas will keep it asleep.”

  “Thank you,” Ratchet says, then pauses. “Listen. Don’t tell anyone about this yet. I don’t want everyone flocking into the medibay and stressing it out. We could accidentally scare this thing to death if we aren’t careful.”

  “I won’t.” Perceptor nods. “Just…make sure it heals properly. I don’t doubt your expertise, but…” He looks down at you, and his optics soften. “It hurts my spark to see something so small in so much pain.”

  First Aid returns with the restrainer. It’s a small mechanism that runs on magnetic power, created by the Lost Light’s resident mad scientist, Brainstorm himself. Ratchet places it directly over your lax form. With a quiet beep, it presses lightly over your midsection, and magnetic bindings weigh down your ankles and wrists. Seeing you trapped like this makes him feel guilty. This obviously isn’t going to be something you will like when you wake up. But there’s no other way for this to go. You won’t understand his good intentions until he heals you. Until then, he has to keep you still.

  He grabs a small serum of glowing blue liquid and bends over you, gently pinching your little fleshy cheeks and working your intake open. “C’mon little one, drink up,” he whispers when he carefully forces the liquid down your throat. He sees your faceplate tighten with discomfort, but your throat pulses as you subconsciously swallow. “There you go. Good human, good human.”

  “What are you giving it?” First Aid asks.

  “Something I learned to make back in my early days,” he replies. “It heals from the inside. Works on both organics and machines.” He pats your cheeks praisingly and draws away. “There. That should help with the bleeding. It’ll be fine now. I’ll continue to monitor it over the next few days.”

  First Aid exhales a relieved sigh. Perceptor reaches out a tentative hand and brushes your hair away from your closed optics. “It’s so small…so soft…”

  “We have to be careful with it,” First Aid frets. “We don’t want it to break.”

  “Listen.” Ratchet’s tone hardens authoritatively. “I said this before, but I’ll say it again. We have to keep this between the three of us. Don’t tell anyone about a human being in here.”

  “But what about the captain?” First Aid asks. “Shouldn’t he know?”

  “The captain can’t know. If he finds out there's a human on the ship, he’ll go nuts with excitement and probably end up accidentally crushing the poor thing. Until I confirm it’s not going to drop dead at any moment, we keep it a secret. Got it?”

  Both bots nod. Ratchet nods with them. “Alright. I’m going to stay here and make sure it’s condition remains stable. You can come back tomorrow to check in on it and see how it’s doing.”

  Perceptor dips his head and leaves without another word. First Aid lingers, optics never leaving you.

  “It’ll be fine,” Ratchet reassures him. “I’ll take care of it. Go recharge.”

  It takes a lot for the other medic to step back and exit the medibay. Ratchet watches him go, then sighs and drags a servo over his faceplate. Becoming the caretaker of an injured organic lifeform was not something he had planned for today. Primus, how the hell am I going to tell Rodimus?

  A soft noise drags his attention away from the alarming thought of what might happen if the extroverted captain learns about his new “crewmate.” He looks down at you and startles a bit. Your eyes, foggy and unfocused, are staring right at him. There’s a fatigued expression of utter terror on your face that once again has his spark feeling like it's been ripped from his chassis and stomped on.

  “You’ll be okay,” he whispers to you. “I promise.”

  You close your eyes and let your helm loll to the side. Ratchet watches the soft rise and fall of your chassis for a few moments longer, then dims the medibay lights and returns to his previous work on the other side of the room.

  Never do you stray far from his mind.