#vore stories

[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings: A retold, g/t story of Beauty and the Beast, with a sinister twist.

When he declines to help a beggar woman, wealthy aristocrat Christopher Penn was cursed to adopt a giant form with a terrible, monstrous burden, and the conditions to break the curse seem all but impossible. When a peasant girl, Danny, agrees to take her friend's place as Christopher's captive, he realizes that she may be the last hope of regaining his humanity and breaking the spell for good.

But who could ever care for a monster like him?

This will be an AU of ITWOM involving some familiar characters like Christopher, Danny, Sam, and Nathan - but you don't have to have read the main story to read this one. Lots of things will be changed around, so for all intents and purposes, these aren't the characters you know.

This story will contain g/t, angst, and soft/safe vore later down the road. It's still going to be a lighter read than ITWOM, but be warned nonetheless! This isn't the Beauty and the Beast story you know from Disney.

Read Chapter 1 below:

Chapter 1: Dark Night of the Soul

Contains: ~2k words | Chapter Index | Read this story on A03!

It was a night like many others, the night that Christopher Penn's life was changed forever.

A deluge had begun that evening, torrential rain bearing down upon the land with fierce strikes of lightning and thunder rattling the large windows of the mansion—but all this meant for Christopher and his guests was that they wouldn't be able to enjoy the garden out back, and their merriment was restricted to the large indoor space. The music still swelled and filled the air pleasantly, rising above the sounds of the storm outside and making it easy for the partygoers to forget how unpleasant it was outside the walls of Christopher's house.

The host in question flitted from person to person throughout the evening, engaging in the usual small talk and jokes, an easy and charming smile lighting up his face and those of the people he met with. He was a gracious and charismatic host, always making sure that his parties were the grandest, with his guests never wanting for anything. The people in attendance would speak highly of his events, of the balls and the dinner parties, that he was so keen to host. 

On the surface, Christopher seemed rather at ease, full of a charm and grace that would be befitting of someone from a wealthy family. But his actions were all surface level—each word and step he took was carefully choreographed and planned in advance. He was terrified, truly—each person he brought into his home was a potential ally, a potential for advancing his status, but they were also a potential seed to his own destruction.

Christopher had spent every day since his parents had passed rebuilding his family's reputation among the nobility. He could see past their charm—they despised his parents, and in turn, they despised him. His own reputation—the very thing that allowed him to live in such comforts still, to have any amount of power and social standing at all—was fragile and tenuous, and every interaction he had, no matter how seemingly insignificant it was, was an attempt to maintain its strength.

And so, while he seemed completely comfortable in this element, there was a latent anxiety in Christopher, hidden well beneath the surface. 

He almost didn’t hear the knock at the door at first, wrapped up as he was in conversation. But his manservant rushed to his side, rather insistently dragging him away.

“I’m sorry, Chris, she just won’t leave without speaking to you.” Sam’s stride was brisk, and they gave Christopher no choice but to follow. He offered a quick and profuse apology to the noblewoman he’d been entertaining before he caught up to Sam.

“You’re not able to send her away?” Christopher hissed, somewhat tersely. “I can’t be interrupted by every stranger that shows up here. I have guests to attend to.” 

“Hey, I tried!” Sam insisted. “I’m just one guy, and I also have guests of yours to attend to. She keeps coming back. All she wants is a quick word with you. Just humor her, and she’ll be out of your hair.” Sam ran their fingers somewhat anxiously through their own well-groomed locks. “We can just deal with it quietly, before she causes a scene. Some of the guests near the front door are getting a little antsy about it.” 

Christopher sighed wearily as he followed Sam to the main entrance. Perhaps if he had more staff, this wouldn’t be a problem. Most of the house’s staff had left in the fallout of his parents’ demise, with the sole exception being Sam—his personal servant who’d remained as doggedly loyal to him as they had the first day they’d been assigned to care for him. He’d never let on to his guests, but Christopher worked with Sam every day to keep the house in order, even helping cook the meals and clean. He had to keep up appearances as best he could. 

Sam pulled the grand front door open to reveal a woman on the other side—a pauper in beggar’s clothes, tattered and rain-soaked, hunched on his front stoop as she gazed up at Christopher. 

Christopher stood up straight and directed a cold, stern look towards the woman. He could feel several sets of eyes on him, and knew that there was a group of aristocrats watching the scene intently. He adjusted the cuffs of his sleeves idly as he spoke, as if he couldn’t be bothered to pay attention to the woman at all.

“I’m afraid you will have to leave. I have no room for beggars here.” 

The woman shivered slightly, tilting her head up further to meet Christopher’s face. Her eyes were wide and glassy, her face lined with creases from age and stress. “P-please, kind sir, I only need to come in from the storm for a short while. I won’t be any trouble. I…I haven’t eaten in days-”

The people nearby began to whisper, a touch of disgust coloring their tone. 

“This is an exclusive event,” Christopher interjected firmly. “There is a certain decorum that must be maintained. Please leave, or I will contact the authorities to escort you away.” 

If he had been at home alone that evening, he might have afforded some manner of small comfort towards the woman. But he couldn’t be seen sullying his hands with the poor here. 

A pleading, desperate look came to the woman’s face, her features falling into despair. “Sir, I will not survive the night!” Her voice was hoarse and rough, as if sandpaper scraped against the inside of her throat. “You would turn me away, to the mercy of the storm?”

Her cries had gotten louder—more of his guests had turned to look and whisper among themselves, casting uncertain and hesitant glances Christopher’s way. He didn’t need to hear them to know what they were all saying. 

What kind of place is this, where the host entertains beggars?

He is no better than his parents, mingling with such filth.

He doesn’t belong here.

He is not one of us.

He set his jaw and made his stance firm, his dark eyes fixed sharply down at the beggar. He couldn’t let this go on further. “Leave. Your welfare is not my concern.”

The woman’s face became suddenly sharper, each crease and wrinkle fading to a more youthful visage, and her muddy, round eyes transformed to piercing, golden ones. She no longer hunched, but stood straight up, rising to a height that forced even Christopher to look up in awestruck terror. 

“THEN YOU WILL HAVE BLOOD ON YOUR HANDS, CHRISTOPHER PENN.” 

Her tattered clothes transformed to flowing white robes upon her dark skin, her hair now falling in neat and lovely braids down her back, adorned with gold. 

She cast a scornful, acidic gaze towards Christopher as she looked down on him, each fiber of her being radiating with malice. 

His heart stopped beating—the entire world seemed to have gone silent, save for the strikes of thunder that almost seemed to accentuate every word this woman spoke. Her voice boomed with an unnatural volume throughout the entire hall. He didn’t need to turn around to know that every single person in attendance had heard.

He did his best to hide the quaking in his limbs. He couldn’t lose his composure, even now. “Who are you?” he asked, his voice escaping as nothing but a whisper.

The woman scowled at him, her expression one of pure poison. He could feel himself withering beneath it, despite all his efforts to keep calm. 

“You would not remember me, for the faces you entertain here are simply passing flights of fancy to you. I was your guest, Penn. And I saw past your charm. You use people for your own gain, grasping onto what little power you have like a pathetic child, desperate to rise above your place in the world.” 

She pointed an accusing finger towards him. “You have a vile, black heart, so cruel that you would send a woman away to her death when she asks for but a little kindness.”

“Hey!” Sam spoke up, a little timidly beside Christopher. “You can’t talk about him like-”

“SILENCE.” A loud strike of thunder shook the entire house, rattling the foundation and carrying the woman’s voice to the ears of every patron once again. A blistering wind tore through the open door, making the curtains tremble in its wake. 

Christopher thought that something seemed familiar about the woman—he felt as though he could recall a conversation with her, and she surely must have been at one of his parties. He searched for a name desperately, frantically wracking his brain for this woman’s identity.

“...Sybil?” he croaked, every ounce of confidence having long since left his body. His knees began to tremble, and he worried that they would soon give out completely. “Y-you may come in, I am so very sorry to have offended-”

“You have already failed, Penn. Now you repent, for you see my true form, and the power I wield.” Her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Your fate has already been sealed.”

The world was swallowed in darkness within only the span of a moment, and the screams of Christopher’s guests and Sam became drowned out by an all-encompassing blackness that surrounded him, choking the air from his lungs, squeezing his ribcage until he thought he would burst from the pressure. He could not speak, he could not move, he could not see. If not for the excruciating pain shooting through every fiber of his being, he would have thought he was dead.

“You will no longer hide behind your tawdry facade. A monster within, so a monster you shall become.” 

Sybil’s voice came from all around him, like a harsh winter wind that froze the blood in his veins as it passed over him. Her words had weight to them, laden with something powerful, and far beyond this world’s understanding. 

His body was changing, but in what manner, he had no way to tell. All he could feel was pain—pain and a clawing hunger, like an animal inside of his stomach ripping and tearing at the flesh within, desperate to break out. His head throbbed as sounds swirled in his mind, indistinguishable from each other as they rose into a crescendo of noise, and the silence turned to a deafening cacophony. Voices, screams, shouting, but no words he could make out. He thought that he could hear Sam, amidst all the chaos, but he couldn’t be sure.

And then, before the darkness of his vision cleared to reveal the full extent of the horror that awaited him, he was assaulted by the wave of a strong smell he couldn’t place, a scent that filled his lungs and made the desperate animal within his gut writhe and twist in agony. It was like the scent of the finest wine, the most tantalizing food in existence, in such a great amount that it was overwhelming—even though, in those few moments of blissful ignorance, he had no idea what it was that delighted his senses so, that made the pain almost forgotten, that made every bone of his ache with an almost feral hunger.

His eyes opened with frantic urgency, and the scene before him unfolded slowly into a horrifyingly clear depiction of the gruesome fate that had been thrust upon him. He could barely see the faces of the ones he’d invited here, but their frightened screams spoke loudly enough. No words came to his own mouth—he was frozen in horror, like an insect trapped in amber as the weight of what happened sunk in, pressing down upon him like a suffocating, terrible gravity.

Despite his transformation, Sybil’s words rang as clear in his head as they had before. 

“Ten years, Penn. Ten years to prove yourself, or this form will be your prison.”

* * * * * * * * * * 

Next Chapter ->

Thanks for reading! I hope to update this story semi-consistently, because boy do I have some things planned down the road. So stay tuned!

[qualityfunnyscenariosfire]

I Had a Nightmare

Gentle male pred x scared smaller prey

The sounds of the living room tv echoed through your apartment, your predator boyfriend sleepily staring at it as you snored in his arms. Curled up against him, you nuzzled into his soft chest just as your favorite tv show turned on, making him chuckle as you sunk a bit into his t-shirt.

Before you passed out from sleep exhaustion, he had been petting your cute little head all night to help destress from the day. Work and troublesome people for 8+ hours had took its tole on you, making you worn and pissed off at everything when the day ended. Now home, your hubby did what he does best and snuggled you. Getting relaxing kisses and massages as you unwinded, his larger hands doing most of the work as he whispered cute nothings into your ears.

He kept you snug against him as you slowly drifted off to a restless sleep, the only thing keeping him from joining you in slumberland was your obnixous snoring. It sounding like a cheese grater shreding a tuba while it was playing "Hot Cross Buns" backwards. He tried to block it out with TV noises but nothing worked.

You, on the other hand, was compketely unbothered as cute images in your dreams danced in your head. That is until the cuteness started to die as you began to shift in his arms. Whimpering and fidgeting came from you as the dream turned weird nightmare played in your head, alerting your pred as he slowly sat up and stared at you.

"Mmmmh....N-No! Please! I-I don't wanna die!" You whimper, tears dripping down your sleeping face as you suddenly kicked his soft tummy. Him stiffling a pain filled groan as he gently grasped your small shoulders. "AAAAAAHHH!" You scream, tears still flowing down your face as you tried to break fear.

The nightmare getting intense as you though that something was strangling you, spazing and shaking in your hubby's grasp. His deep voice of your pred caling out to you as he tries waking you up, shaking you as you struggled.

"A-Are you alright, little one?" He gently asked, kissing your forehead and gripping you firmly. His warm wet tiubge suddenly going across your face as yiur salty tears tasted sweet to him, using his saliva as a calming agent. It helping calm you down as its scent woke you.

"N-No! DON'T...oh....I..." You look at him, feeling his soft gaze let you relax once more as he stared at you intimately.

"You had a nightmare hun. Tell me about it." He reassured, settling you down on his large lap.

"it was...weird and scary. I thought somethung was trying to kill me." You explain, sighing a bit. "...it sounded like you...and acted like you too.."

I-I had a scary and weird nightmare. I-I though that I was going to be killed and chewed up/eaten alive b-by........." You look up at him in shock and got a little hesitant as you continued. "...........b-by...........b-by..........." "By who, dear? Spit it out, lil one." He say, rubbing your back. "You." You start to cry even more as you couldn't hold anything back. Your pred made a slight gap as he heard this. "Look at me." He says a bit sternly. You shakily look up at the pred, wiping the tears from your face hurriedly. He tilts your chin for you to fully look at him, his tounge slowly coming out of his mouth. "I would never hurt you." His deep yet gently voice says as he gently gives you licks of love. "I-I know. But my instincts and fears must've made me think the worse in my sleep." You say softly as he licks you gently. He nods and holds you against his soft belly, letting you lay down on it. "Well, I am going to eat you gently just to put you in my chamber for you to feel comfort and to show that no harm will come to you whenever I eat you." He gently says, nuzzling you all over. He makes soft purrs as he does so, just to add to his cuteness. You nod and shakily get ready, sitting on his soft gut. You felt his hands massage and caress you gently as your slowly lifted up to his lips. He gives you a quick kiss as his mouth opens up for you, giving you the view of his wet and dripping maw. You could feel his warm and gentle breathe all around as he slowly pushes you into his mouth, licking you all around. You moan softly as he slurps you halfway into him, your legs still sticking out. He tilt his head back and gulps you down slowly as his throat gently squishes you tightly as you slip down. He moans at your taste and does a second gulp, your legs following you down his throat. You land head and shoulders first into the fleshy and soft place as you slip even more down. The rest of your body soon follows as his gut welcomes you happyily. Your pred licks his lips at your taste and rubs his belly comfortably. "You okay in there? Hope it's not to tight?" He asks softly as his belly caresses you all around. "Mhm. It's pretty cozy and safe in here." You respond, nuzzling his belly walls gently. "Uuuurppp! That kinda tickles little one." He giggles softly, continuously rubbing his gut. He enjoyed eating you and wanted you to relax before you fall back asleep. You smile softy as the gurgles of his spacious gut echo in your ear as you're caressed all around. You purr softly and yawns. "Hehe...I'm getting sleepy against." You giggle as your eyes get droopy. "Rest now, little one." He purrs, rubbing his gut and lays down. His belly gently squishes you. You smile softly and drifts off, the sound of his heartbeat and belly gurgles act like a lullaby as you sleep.

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 46)

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

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

Word Count: 3.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chapter 47

Tag List: @tinycoded360 @yummynomms @maybeiamdownbad

[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.  

[benjaminthewolf]

Internal Glow (Vore Story)

HAPPY VORE DAY!

I'm probably not coming back because I'm moving into my college dorms in a little over a week and then it's back to school. But I am here with you now to celebrate this special day!

I can't wait to see all your interpretations of this piece!

      The feral, beastly winds of the winter sink a snap of icy fangs into the twitching fingers of your tiny body whilst you grasp, in rigid agony, the curved surface of the screw’s head. A surface caked wholly in a layer of snow and ice, searing the stinging burn of their bitter frigidity deep into the skin of your palm, and down your forearm.

     Forcing an acceptance of the pain’s presence in order to wrench the frozen screw counterclockwise, you close your eyes and grunt whilst gathering your remaining energy into the tingling forearm. The screw makes a sort of metallic scraping sound as it grinds around within its socket.

    Reality roars into both your numbed, solid ears, while flurries of snow-and-ice-packed winds surge onto your being from the left. As if intent on hauling you up and among them, carrying your defeated, spasming form to the drift it would settle to die.

      You yank out the now sufficiently loosened screw, and drop it into the snow where it would meet with its three companions. The cover of the air duct clangs to the ground, the tunnel now open to you.

     You’re instantly pushed by your instincts to shove your quivering body inside, causing the external screams of the wind to give way to the jolt of an internal, tightening warmth. 

***

     Cautiously sliding your hand sideways through the leftmost slit of this new air duct cover, which stood between you and the house’s interior, your still chilled, yet better dexterous fingers tap their tips onto the screw head. The final one to unscrew, no less. You extend your arm further past the cover, in order to firmly grasp the metallic hemisphere. Twisting your wrist counterclockwise, you can feel the screw rising out of place, before pulling it out the remainder of the way. Finally, the screw falls to the carpet, and you slide your arm and hand back through the slit.          

     This duct cover makes a far softer landing onto the dark purple shag carpet, before you enter at last into the room. 

     It appears to be space and alien themed, with a color palette of dark purple, black, and bright green. The blanket on the bed, and many posters on the walls, contain the classic symbol of an alien head: bright green, and guitar-pick shaped, with black, almond-shaped eyes.

     You take a few steps forwards, pondering as to what, exactly, you’re going to do now.

     *THWACK*

     “Wh-ah-.....” the owner of the room stammers in sudden bewilderment, standing in front of the newly wide open door. You know he’s the owner, as the very same alien symbol is present on his black t-shirt. 

     As the stand-off continues, you take the opportunity to vehemently scrutinize the man’s appearance, as to add him to your records of the people you have encountered over the years.

     A purple striped long-sleeved shirt lies underneath his black t-shirt, and he wears a pair of glasses with purple rims and red lenses. His skin is pure white, his teeth are sharp and jagged; and his upwards pointing, somewhat spiky, jet-black hair has hot pink dyed tips. 

     His yellow eyes with black sclera narrow in building rage. 

     Your body stands unable to respond.

     “WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK ARE YOU DOING IN MY ROOM?”

     Your eyes dart around in their sockets, searching vigorously for a good place to hide. In doing so, you note the sign taped onto the now-visible front of the door, telling you that, whoever this man is, his name is, (or at least he calls himself), “MJ 182”.

     “YOU…YOU! No. Nah. You know what?”

     MJ 182’s abrupt drop in volume sends a jostle of terror through your nerves.

     “GET’CH’YO ASS OVER HERE YOU PUNY LITTLE SHIT!”

     And thus, your body chooses flight.

     Jerking down onto all fours, your limbs propel you past MJ 182 and into the white carpeted hallway, following the sprinting motions of a wild mouse. Thrusting your arms outwards as your legs finish launching you forth, the slight amount of airtime you experience gives you the moments you need to haul your arms back towards your chest.

     “HEY! GET BACK HERE!” 

     You sense MJ 182 calling out behind you before heavy, rushing footsteps pound out the door. With them progressively gaining volume as time continues, it then becomes apparent that running away is no longer an option.

     Heaving your head upwards, your peripheral vision examines the states of the wooden doors on both sides of you. A slight crack in one door on the left lurches your attention to it, dragging your form behind as a result.

     Skidding to a halt on the dark red striped carpet once hidden behind the door’s shape, you soon hear MJ 182 sprinting past. Thus, you spend a few seconds hunched over, hands on your knees, simply catching your breath. Until the door creaks open and a looming shadow shrouds your field of view.

     Your body chooses freeze, and you find yourself unable to breathe. A pure white hand wraps its fingers around you to hoist you up off the floor. Your being gives a spasm as you brace to meet MJ 182’s furious, poignant face.

     A face bearing a tender, sympathetic gaze meets your frail form instead.

     “...who are you?” the face asks, with a smooth, soft, and gentle tone of voice. 

     “...why are you so cold?” it continues, with discernible rising concern.

     The face bears a pair of round, pink glasses, and a large purple hat with two long strips of cloth at each side. Two yellow strings dangle at the end of each strip, and atop the hat are two yellow horns. A light blue stripe lies upon the hat’s brim, under which hangs strands of jet-black hair.

     “Hey…I’m KC Glow.” The man eventually introduces himself. His other hand, retreated inside the long sleeve of his dark red striped hoodie-sweater which he wore backwards, rises up to give you a cautious stroke. “You were probably caught out in the winter storm…here, I’ll try to warm you up.”

     With that, KC Glow begins blowing humid air onto you from his dark purple mouth, before his sweater-covered palm delicately rubs itself over your body. With each huff, the steamy mist sinks deeper into your skin, ensconcing you within its breadth.

     A wavering exhale shivers out of your lungs, the tension in your muscles releasing.

     “KC GLOW? DID YOU SEE ANYTHING ENTER YOUR ROOM?”

     In the following moments, KC Glow’s instincts take over. With his eyes and sense of time both dilating in tandem, the palm that holds your being flies forwards, flinging you en route to his widened mouth. The instant a heavy weight lands on his tongue, his jaws click together.

     Suddenly, you are consciously aware of your situation. Gazing silently upon the rough ridges on KC Glow’s hard palate, while sprawled out on your back in immobilizing shock, you eventually turn your head to the right. Resting it upon the heated, squishy, dark purple tongue, you start becoming more attentive to the natural heat within the fleshy chamber. A voice then calls from outside.

     “KC GLOW?” MJ 182’s voice, lowered in both volume and intensity, repeats the man’s name. The door squeaks open as he enters the room.

     “Uh…eauh…no…I didt ee aythin…” KC Glow stammers in response, doing his best to not move his tongue or open his lips significantly.

     You press your back deep into the warm, pillowy muscle.

     “...what?” MJ 182 responds with genuine confusion.

     KC Glow’s jaws internally stretch as far as they can before his tongue swings to the right, dropping you into his right cheek. The slick, malleable pocket of dark purple muscle bulges outwards. KC Glow immediately attempts to suck in his cheek as close to his jaws as is comfortable for you.

     “I said I didn’t see anything!”

     You attempt to stand up as straight as possible in the curved pouch, your feet stabilizing you against KC Glow’s lower gum line. 

     MJ 182 raises an eyebrow just slightly. The sudden enlargement of the cheek hadn’t gone unnoticed by him. “Hey, what’s that in your cheek?”

     “What?” KC Glow asks in palpable discomfort.

     “Yeah, I saw that happen!” MJ 182’s voice raises in a subtle, accusatory tone. “What was that?”

     “...........air.”

     MJ 182’s eyebrows drop to his narrowed eyes. “Really, now?”

     With MJ 182 making his suspicions very obvious, reality slugs you in the face. You won’t be able to hide in here for much longer. The second KC Glow’s mouth was pried opened, it would be all over, probably for the both of you. 

     Left with literally no other option, your eyes begin to shift towards KC Glow’s dark purple pharynx.

     “Say aaaaah.”

     Thus, it became your turn for time to dilate around you.

     Crouching down and leaping through the gap between KC Glow’s jaws, your body rebounds upon the springy, sleek surface of the tongue. Swiveling around midair towards the back of KC Glow’s throat, the subsequent bounce launches your momentum forwards, resulting in a collision with the man’s bulbous, dangling, dark purple uvula. Gravity drags you to the ground near the root of the tongue, the uvula swinging frantically above you, where you’re able to gaze into KC Glow’s laryngopharynx below. The front of your face can just barely detect the short, heavy breaths heaving in and out the man’s lungs through his larynx. His vocal cords almost appear tightened from inability to respond to MJ 182.

     Shoving your arms up underneath your chest, you push the weight of your being forwards, and watch as the epiglottis flops over the laryngeal inlet whilst the pharyngeal constrictor muscles slip you past the upper esophageal sphincter.

     And then, everything was over.

     “Come on, buddy. Open up. You don’t have anything to hide in there, do you?”

     “No!”

     “Then open up!”

     That's when KC Glow became aware that you’re no longer inside his mouth. Yet, with his top priority at the moment being getting MJ 182 off his case, he opens it up. Any and all thoughts and emotions about this fact would have to wait until later.

     MJ 182 shoves his face right up to the thing, to find… nothing. Eyes narrowing in instantaneous disbelief, he steps back to angle his view towards KC Glow’s left cheek pouch. Empty. Then his right cheek pouch. Empty as well.

     “Push your tongue all the way out.” he orders. 

     KC Glow obliges.

     Glaring zealously down at KC Glow’s pharynx, his tonsils, larynx, and epiglottis all on full display, MJ 182 spends twenty-three seconds strenuously examining the area. Only to come up empty, again.

     Steadily pulling back his mellowed, yet flabbergasted face, he merely stands still for a few seconds, dumbfounded to his very core.

     “Dang. I…guess I was wrong.”

     Within the resulting silence, KC Glow detects something relatively large and bulky squelching its way down his esophagus.

     “I uh…wow. Sorry about that, man.” MJ 182 continues. Realizing seconds later that KC Glow is still in shock from the whole situation, he turns towards the door, instead of waiting for a response. “I’m just gonna leave you alone now.” he concludes before turning the doorknob, walking out, and closing the door behind him.

     Halfway down KC Glow’s esophagus, you realize you are finally safe.

     Your body huffs out a shudder whilst the esophageal muscles behind you contract. The muscles in front of you simultaneously relax, squeezing you further down towards KC Glow’s stomach.

     And yet, that fact doesn’t scare you at all.

     Why would it?

     KC Glow on the outside, meanwhile, finally processes the situation.

     “Uh………are you ok in there?” he pulls himself together sufficiently enough to ask.

     It’s a little difficult to hear him since you’ve slipped into his chest region by now, causing his heart rate to boom through your form, but you nonetheless attempt to assure him that you feel perfectly safe at the moment.

     “Great! Should I get you out now?” There is a rising undertone of panic present in his voice.

     In an effort to quench this panic, you assure KC Glow with full confidence that you’re going to be perfectly fine.

     The instant your words hit KC Glow’s brain, he jostles in a horrified stun, his brain crackling and staggering in error as it fails to process your words. His nervous system frazzles with confusion and uncertainty. Instinct, intuition, and rationality all come to the same consensus. He inhales a labored breath in an attempt to say something about the danger you’re in, semi-voluntarily lifting a finger as he does. Only to realize after that he has absolutely no idea what to say. Or how to say it.

      Deep inside KC Glow’s dark purple esophagus, a subtle grin of comfort forms on your face as you soak in the tactile sensation of the cushiony esophageal walls which squeeze in against your being before releasing. The rhythmic squelching presses the walls’ natural heat and glossy texture against your skin. Though of course, you know it’s only a matter of time before the esophagus would drop you to your ultimate destination.

     A deep, echoey gurgle releases somewhere below you, and you give a nod of acknowledgment that that time is soon approaching. 

     KC Glow, meanwhile, remains locked in incapacity to wrap his head around your current behavior. Your profound, unwavering confidence in your safety. Any possible logic, any possible interpretation, anything that would make it all make sense. He simply can’t find it.

     “But…how?! How are you so sure you’ll be ok?!” he eventually yelps out, the tension and worry even stronger in his voice. He sits himself down upon the edge of his light red blanketed bed, just in case his sense of balance fails him.

     You almost feel sorry that KC Glow doesn’t know. But you know. You always know. Unable to provide him the full answer, you simply insist he trust you on this. 

     KC Glow senses a twinge in his heart. For a while, the muscle beats at allegro. His vocal cords quiver with well foreseen inarticulacy. What to do in this situation is something entirely lost to him.

     Eventually, however, he resigns himself to silence as he scoots himself into the wall which his bed lies against. He places a sweater-covered hand over his abdominal region, and braces himself for the worst. His heart settles back to moderato. 

     Grounded upon this slow, steady tempo, the low-tone stomach below provides a rumbling melody. Improvised solos of growls and gurgles periodically interject. Occasionally, a high-pitched note is reached, before the peak gives way to the valley once more.

     At last, the lower esophageal sphincter enters your view. The instant your head is squeezed out, you can see that KC Glow’s stomach walls, like the rest of his digestive system, are colored dark purple. Finally, the rest of your body slips beyond the esophagus, and you plunge into the juices below.

     KC Glow convulses as he senses the resulting splash. His stomach begins sloshing and churning more actively, and gives an audible growl from the outside.

     “I-” KC Glow’s eyes begin to well up as the reality of the situation fully kicks in. “I CAN’T TAKE IT ANYMORE! ARE YOU ALIVE?” tears begin to stream down his cheeks as the prospect of receiving no answer ruthlessly overwhelms his mind and senses.

     “Yeah I’m alive!” you respond. 

     Why wouldn’t you be?

     Standing within the pool of harmless stomach juices, you begin to wade your way over to the stomach walls.

     “B-But aren’t you questioning why the liquids aren’t digesting you? ‘Cause I am! Why is it not digesting you? How-how is this working? WHY? HOW?” KC Glow cries with a strained, shaky voice.

     Sealed within KC Glow’s stomach, you are only able to shrug your shoulders. 

     You knew how it worked. You just never questioned why it worked. Why would you question it? What would the point even be?

     You tell KC Glow that there’s no point in questioning it, as you lie yourself down against the squishy, cushiony walls.

     “.....so you’re going to be ok?” a wholly defeated KC Glow squeaks out.

     Snuggling up against the goopy, churning walls of his stomach, you assure KC Glow that you’re both perfectly fine, and extremely comfortable.

     You nuzzle your head into the warm, pillowy, shifting smooth muscles, before rubbing them over with your hands, hoping this will help him calm down. 

     “...I don’t understand how you can just…accept it. Even if you don’t get hurt.” KC Glow speaks up again. “Don’t you want to know why, and how this is happening? This goes against…everything we know, and you act like it’s completely normal! Like everyone knows that, how, and why this works! You should be getting scientists to do a case study on you! You could be famous! You could take partial credit for any scientific advances that happen from the scientific community understanding what’s happening right now!”

     With the gurgles echoing around your ears, and the stomach’s internal heat ensconcing your skin, you attempt to dissapear into the surrounding ambiance.

     “I was terrified for your life, and you acted like you expected me to act the same as you! Don’t you understand how-” KC Glow’s speech halts. 

     “No…no…that’s enough from me. That’s more than enough.” you can sense deep regret in his voice.

     “Please forget I said anything at all! You just wanted to get comfortable after getting through a life-or-death situation, and now I’m just…” a silent, steady flow of tears trickles from KC Glow’s tear ducts and onto the body of his sweater over his abdominal region. He places his two sweater-sleeve covered hands on top of the area.

     “I’m sorry…I’m so sorry!” he sobs audibly before his head falls straight into his chest. “This wasn’t supposed to happen! It wasn’t supposed to be like this!”

     Sinking deeper into KC Glow’s rumbling, cushiony stomach walls, you ponder what you could possibly say to make the poor man feel better.

[malevorenhairylegs]

Feel like a total prey like this

[luckyshotwrites]

Ch. 103 // Christmas Eve // Day 81

Contents (Warnings): Sum up what's left (Angst, character and monster info as always). Read full chapter on A03

Wordcount: 3,400+

Song I correlate to this Chapter: None unfortunately

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

(Dec. 24th, Saturday)

Lynette

This is what I imagined speed dating was like. 

Wicks and Madre tossed me around most of the night. I'd get some gingerbread and sugar cookies from the cabin's kitchen, and Madre would tug me along to talk amongst the adults about conversations I knew nothing about. 

I played along as if I understood and hoped the "my mouth's full" excuse was good enough to pass. 

I'd occasionally also have a crisis if I looked at the gingerbread's cute, silly faces. I had to look away and bite or tear off their little heads to eat them afterward.

Then, when I slipped away from Madre, Wicks captured me and made me chill out alone with him. Until Wenna came to talk—she recently joined the C.P.P.A. and had yet to be assigned to a unit.

I received a lot of information about it at once simply by mentioning that I knew nothing about the units and classes. And here I was thinking they were named after DnD classes.

"Someone who first starts like me is a Classless. I'll graduate after a few months to first class and get assigned to a unit depending on my results and what I excel at." Wenna hopped in her seat on the couch. "I'm hoping for the medical unit because I'm terrible at fighting!"

"You're hard to grab," Wicks remarked. You guys did spar together didn't you?

Wenna wore a wide smile, her black curls bouncing with her, "exactly! Teleportation is my bread and butter." She looked at me, "I could teleport to New York in an instant if I wanted to." 

I acknowledged her impressiveness, which boosted her ego further. I turned my attention to Wicks, "What unit are you in?"

Wicks didn't like answering questions about work. He always gave me that same nervous grin he gave people who approached him to start small talk. "Chaos unit."

"Chaos?"

"Ooo ooo!" Wenna leaned forward in her armchair and over the floral arrangements on the coffee table, "Those are the first line of defense for the C.P.P.A.. They handle situations that require fighting, rescue, and any other thing that will cause "chaos" to the livelihood of everyone on Earth." She informed me with a trimphat puff at her chest. 

I would have praised her for the second time if her words didn't bother me. "I thought you were like Garter, in the recon unit, just reporting things!" I remembered all those times I called him, and he sounded like he was struggling. "You get into fights often?!"

"They're not bad—they usually give me missions in my capability range," Wicks said, not meeting my gaze. He focused his gaze on Wenna, his eyes narrowed, and his brow furrowed, intensifying the intimidating aura surrounding him. In response, Wenna recoiled, visibly shaken by the sudden attention.

"Oh, is that my mom calling me." When Wenna dashed out of her chair, my attention shifted to Wicks.

"Usually?!"

Wicks got up abruptly from his seat, exclaiming, in an urgent tone, "I need to go to the bathroom."

"HEY!" I grabbed his arm. "Wicks!" As I tried to hold on to him, he forcefully threw his arm down and broke free. 

He swiftly twisted and ran down the hall toward the bathroom. I didn't pursue him. 

He's as bad as me!

I let out a deep breath of frustration and sank back into the couch, crossing my arms tightly across my chest. The cushions felt soft against my skin, but I couldn't find any comfort in them. I looked over the furniture arranged in a way that encouraged conversation, with cozy blankets and pillows scattered about. I knew we'd open the gifts we got each other soon. 

My eyes drifted further near the crackling fireplace. The twinkling lights of the Christmas tree were not that far from it. I'd be concerned about Padre's tree placement if they didn't have magic. 

I smiled to myself, remembering our first Christmas together. It was initially weird as Padre wasn't there when Madre first adopted me. He came back a few years after I was with them. 

Was he part of the war? Madre said he was in the service. It wasn't on Earth, was it?

I saw Madre look toward me and ducked my head down. Oh no, please, no more adult talk. I waited for her to look away and quickly rushed across the living room to the wide open back sliding door. 

I made it to the patio. The fresh air and setting sun filled me with ease. It was a little chilly, but it was nothing that my reindeer stuffed animal sweater couldn't protect. I let out a giant sigh of relief. 

I admired the wind, which made the leaves wave. Inside, laughter bustled. Even though our family gathering was small compared to those I saw in movies, they all made a lot of pleasant noise together. 

I rested my chin on my forearms as I looked. I hope Drake and Alexander are having fun.

"You don't sound alright." Ulysses' voice sprang up from next to me. 

I jumped and looked over at him. He held a wine glass of what I supposed was blood and had an adorable ugly sweater that had a gingerbread man with his leg off saying, "Oh snap." I giggled at it. I hadn't seen him or Charletta most of the evening. 

"I didn't say anything," I replied. 

Ulysses indicated a heartbeat by making a beating motion on his chest. I forgot they can do that. 

"Oh," I knew covering my chest didn't do anything. "I haven't seen you and Charletta at the party much." I remarked. 

Ulysses moved his drink to his lips and drank. He did it slowly and I could see his red eyes were scouring over the forest as if it would hold a way to answer my question. 

You know, they could read us super well because of our heartbeats but their faces are easy to read too. A smile perked at my lips. Ulysses was especially easy to read because he didn't have longer hair like Drake. 

I playfully responded, "you don't look alright either." 

He pulled his drink away and softly breathed a chuckle. "Why don't we both confess then, but you first since I asked."

Dang. I didn't want to say anything to Drake's family. I can't lie to them either. "I was just thinking about Drake. I feel bad that he's alone and I kinda wanted to see his face when he opened the gift Wenna helped me get him for christmas." 

"He practically pushed us to go. He relishes in his me time." Ulysses said. "And Alexander went to see him so he's got more than enough to worry about." 

"Yeah." 

I smiled at Ulysses, "what about you?"

Ulysses tilted his head from side to side. He appeared to have an internal debate in his thoughts. It took him another minute to answer. "Well, it's uh, I-I feel awful that I can't provide things…" he cleared his throat and quietly muttered. "traditionally for Charletta."

What is he talking about? "Traditionally?" 

Ulysses put his hands over his mouth and spoke. "You know," his hands echoed his quieter voice. "What you humans do with eachother"

"What do we do?"

"LYNETTE." He split his hands enough to say that to me. "Our species are different, don't make me-"

"Hey, hey, what are you two talking about?" Charletta interrupted, throwing an arm up and around her husband's shoulder. 

Ulysses gasped with relief. "Nothing."

Charletta glanced at me.

"I don't really know anymore." I admitted.

Charletta went on her tippy toes sand planted a kiss on his cheek. "I suppose it was about the thing we should share with everyone else"

Ulysses's eyes went wide. "Today?" 

"Now, yeah. We might as well tell everyone." Charletta turned his body toward the glass sliding door and pushed me along as well. When I went inside Wicks caught my arm and pulled me onto the couch. Everyone was already seated in the living area still chatting. He brought me to an arm chair at which he sat on the arm rest next to me. 

"Don't leave my sight." He sassed in a whisper.  

"You did it first, having to go to the bathroom when I was questioning you." I sassed back.

Wicks got a cup from the end table and passed it to me. I took his hot cocolate bribe and swore in my head that I'd prosecute him later. 

We all watched as Ulysses and Charletta got everyone's attention. The stood in front of the presents and Christmas tree. 

Wicks drank his coffee flavored hot chocolate. 

"I was talking to our moms and they think it's best to share everything with you all before it becomes an unexpected surprise." Charletta flashed a grin at Ulysses, he reflected hers back. His eyes finally soothing.

He cleared his throat, set down his wine glass, and said the announcement to everyone. "We're trying for a baby." 

Wicks threw his hand over his mouth and coughed his drink into it. Wenna squealed at the top of her lungs. Edgar just blankly stared, while Pete's and Padre both lurched forward.

"How?" They both said with different tones, then they looked at each other, and Pete's broke his gaze first.

He doesn't like Padre, does he?...hold on. What he said finally hit me.

"Lynette, you're going to be a big sister!"

Her vocals entered my head. I hadn't heard it in years.  

Its melody was soft and gentle like a breeze through a flower filled meadow. It was like she was in front of me again, happily holding my tiny hands in her pale, thin ones. 

I couldn't paint her face anymore. There was only a warmth that fled when my mind played out the rest.

The loud bang in my memory brought me back, momentarily. 

Charletta went on. "The C.P.P.A. has been working on the preservation of some species. They share that species' genes with mothers to bear children of those genes, and so far, it's been working." She pressed a hand to her abdomen, "I've got to get another check up in the next week and If it doesn't work, we'll most likely try to adopt a little magus." She giggled at the end as she looked at her husband.

"Are you going to be okay?" My voice cracked. The room fell silent because of how loud I actually said it. I timidly fell back in my seat and Wicks put his hand on my shoulder. "I," I couldn't look at anyone in the room, nor did I want to. I was stuck on Charletta. 

Her hazel eyes hushed me sweetly, "If anything bad happens, which it won't, they'll stop it." I held my fear back, and I nodded, accepting her assurance. Wenna directed everyone away from my outburst with another question. She wanted to know how it worked.

I couldn't listen. Wicks leaned on me and Madre came over, "No te preocupes, Lyn. Charletta estará bien.” She ran her hand over my head and reminded me that I still had a family. 

It was something I tightly clung too, to keep myself from falling back under. 

...

Drake

He sat alone.

He couldn't deny that he wondered how the party was going at the Paytons. He encouraged his family to go even though they fought to stay with him.

It gives me time to watch this.

He wanted to finish the latest season of Tasty in Oubliette. 

His ears quickly caught a familiar beat near the door, so he paused the TV. 

There wasn't a knock. The asshole kicked the door open, repaired it with reversal magic, and came over to him like a maniac. You're in a good mood, ain't ya? Idiot.

Drake leaned over the couch to stare him down as he entered. "I don't remember saying break-in," he said.

"It's not like you have anything to hide. I know your shit taste in anime." His best friend threw himself down on the same couch as Drake. 

"SHIT TASTE?" Drake held his tongue. He knew Alexander said that to get on his nerves. "Asshole." Drake rolled his eyes and rested back into the velvet cushions. 

Alexander was the only person he'd ever allow in this room. Every family member knew about his secret room and generally had one of their own, but they all knew not to enter each other's without permission. 

You shouldn't be here. "Why aren't you at the party?"

Alexander rested his head back on the top of the couch. " It's not fun without you there," he said.

He listened to Alexander's heart. He didn't lie—he held the whole truth. Drake could tell by the stretch and pull at Alexander's cords that his best friend couldn't bear to be there alone even though he wasn't.

There's nothing we could say.

 He studied Alexander, noticing the slight scar on the side of his head, uncovered by his trimmed hair. He evened out both sides to match. 

Suddenly Drake's lungs strained. Not because of some mysterious entity. As far as they knew it was over. Andras was permanently out of his life, so he should relax.

I can't. Drake clenched his teeth a few times.

"What are you watching, anyway?"

Drake didn't respond. It wasn't over yet. He still had a few more things to do—things he dreaded but wouldn't give him peace of mind until he said them. He faced the TV, not paying attention to what was on the screen. 

Before he knew it, the words slid out from his lips. "I'm sorry."

Alexander fixed his gaze. 

Drake continued with what he could. "For everything."

His best friend nudged his shoulder with his elbow, "Why the hell are you apologizing for? You didn't do-"

"Shut it," Drake snapped with a turn of his head. Don't justify me. This is a long time coming." Drake hated this. It felt like there was a lava pool below him, and he was undoing the harness that kept him out of it. He couldn't take the suspense anymore. He had to face it. 

"I never apologized for what I did to you, dude..." Why is this so hard? Am I scared? Worried? He spoke with his eyes closed.

"I was a whiny, stuck-up brat, and I still kind of am." He winced with his smirk. "From the moment I met you, I hated you because I wanted to be you." He wrung his eyes tighter. "I was always treated like a kid, and I tell myself I'm not anymore. Yet I act so stupid sometimes that I might as well be."

Drake raised his hands, "My mom, my dad, my siblings, your parents, and even you tried to warn me." He threw himself up from the couch to face Alexander. "And I STILL did it all again. I put myself at risk, WISHING that Andras would come out so I could end this."

Drake refused to put his bangs over his face. "Why? Because I hoped I could kill him and rectify my mistakes, so I didn't have to get help." Drake moved his right hand to his forehead and pushed his bangs back. "I was so desperate to prove that I could do something that I put everyone's lives at risk." He gripped the front of his hair, tugging on it. 

"That way, I wouldn't have to apologize, and I could be seen as more than I…"

Drake's shoulders dropped along with his arms. "Am."

He wasn't worth a damn. He was a snarky, selfish jerk who cared more about how he was perceived than ever trying to improve. 

"It took Lynette, of all people, telling me I was weak to realize it. I couldn't fight Andras. I was scared of him." Drake started to cackle, though it hurt. "I'm scared. I don't want to be torn apart over and over and over..."

"You won't be." Alexander cut in. He said it with certainty. 

It made Drake jealous. You always say things like that. You... Drake detested the fact it calmed him. 

"I don't want to lose you," he finally said. You don't know the reprieve I felt seeing you alive after you rushed into that base!" Drake kept his hands from rubbing his eyes. "I love you guys, okay, even if I get so infuriated with you all sometimes, and you all deserve better."

He struggled to hold back tears, but they streamed down his face. "I'm sorry I never apologized like I wanted to, and I'm grateful you're still here."

Drake didn't have time to react. Alexander bounded up and hooked an arm around Drake's neck. Alexander brought him back on the couch after he made a noise that sounded like "ack!". He gave him a noogie. 

"You had to put up with my sorry ass. You already got punishment enough for everything." Alexander joked as he let Drake slip out.

Drake got to his side and put his hair back over his eyes. "Fuck you, dude. I spill my heart and soul," Drake wiped away some of his tears. He looked away. "And you just made light of it. I was an asshole to you." 

"Was?"

Drake shifted his gaze and grumbled, seeing Alexander's smug grin, "Don't smile like you're some kind of saint."

Alexander scoffed and rested back down, "I know I ain't."

Drake heard the rhythm slow, though Alexander's face didn't reflect it. He rarely reflected anything. Drake tuned into the harm brought upon Alexander by his mind. 

And Drake made the mistake of saying more. "It wasn't your fault." 

Alexander's beat uncomfortably increased. Drake watched him shift and try to laugh it off.

"Yeah, no shit, you're the one that kept getting into trouble." Alexander changed the subject. "You and the shrimp have that in common."

She is a magnet for trouble, Drake thought. He could feel himself getting a little hungry just thinking about her. That's so annoying. He shifted his eyes to Alexander. Do you feel like this all the time?

Drake followed Alexander's subject shift. 

"You and Lynette are similar. You both jump into danger for someone else's sake and love to get involved with someone else's business." 

Alexander huffed, "We're nothing alike."

"Yeah, you are." Alexander's heartbeat twisted. Why are you worried?

"She's just idiotically stubborn. She doesn't give up on anything even if she gets her answer..." Alexander complained and threw his arm over his eyes. "I gave it to her, yet she wanted more from me. I'm a monster. What else does she think she's going to get?" He chuckled dryly.

"We're monsters, but we're not heartless." Drake corrected.

Alexander laughed, forcing it out of his mouth. "Not you, no. You're not a wendigo like me."

Drake kicked Alexander's leg. "Chase."

Alexander went quiet, and they sat there in silence. 

Lynette's outburst showed Drake something he hadn't seen either. He had known Alexander almost his whole life and had not seen him wear fear quite like that. He couldn't imagine how much it hurt to make him look like that. 

Drake knew if he said something, Alexander wouldn't listen. He never did. So, Drake shamefully remained still. He didn't want his best friend to leave. 

Alexander sat up and broke the silence. "You never told me what anime you were watching." He pointed at the screen. "Because I really wanna know why you still have it freeze-framed on that girl showing her tits."

Drake threw his attention back to the screen and scrambled for the remote. "IT ALWAYS HAPPENS WHEN SOMEONE WALKS IN. YOU SHOULD HAVE SAID SOMETHING! IT'S NOT LIKE THAT. IT'S A MESSED-UP SCENE, I SWEAR!"

Alexander laughed as he watched Drake scramble. Once Drake had poorly explained everything, they settled in and resumed the episode. 

However, his mind stayed on that topic. You once told me you didn't need a reason to do the right thing. Drake glanced at Alexander for a moment. 

And now, ever since that day, you always give bullshit reasons for every good thing you do.

...

END OF ARC 3

Hey peeps! Sorry it has been taking so long. I have been having a lot of in real life stuff popping and it's been hard to process as of late. I hope you keep enjoying what I've got planned! Arc 4 - Dignity coming soon to a theatre near you! SO KEEP PROSPERING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY! (NONNEGOTIABLE)

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What I’d do for a Livable Income Part 2 (Synopsis/Chapter - List)

[nebbynebbu]

Shout-out to Toast, she named the humans and helped me by revising the writing!

If you like the story you can thank Lucky, Toast, Dio, Mystic and Lizard for hyping me into making it, kdjqwd.

All of the humans are in their mid 20s.

Overcast

CW: Fearplay, fear of being digested, implied digestion by the pred (doesn’t happen), brief description of blood, hard vore, cruel pred, unwilling prey.

A peaceful night fell into the town. Empty streets, the lack of sound…a perfect Saturday for the young Charlie to relax in their home. 

  That is, if their friends allowed it. 

  “Thank God those two were joking, I could not imagine b-” Interrupted by a knock at the door, Charlie left the couch and went to open it, only to be met with the two idiots in question. 

  “CHARLIE!” shouted both Dave and Mikey with genuine excitement, while simultaneously grabbing their friend out of the house and embracing them into a hug. 

  “No, you two are not getting me into any shenanigans tonight because of that rumor.” Charlie stood their ground, as if that would work. 

  Mikey decided to speak. The messy, dark hair and the hanging eyelids hinted that he wasn't fully awake–however, the enthusiasm said otherwise. “Come onnn… it will be fun though! Dave even found the doorknob! We wouldn't come get you if it wasn't real,” he said, doing jazz hands to emphasize the magical feeling of the object with a gleam in his copper eyes. 

  Charlie looked at Dave with a raised eyebrow. The pale man replied with a simple nod. Despite being the smallest, Dave was built and had quite the muscular figure. “I can't go against Mikey, just look at him! How can you say no to his face?” Dave gave them the doorknob and picked up a backpack from the ground that contained some snacks and three flashlights. 

  You know. All they need.

  Charlie rolled their eyes with a sigh, accepting defeat. “Fine, fine, let's get this over with. If I recall correctly, we need to position it in the air and gesture as if we were opening an invisible door...” 

  As Charlie made the motion, a wooden door appeared almost instantly. Opening by itself, it pulled the trio of humans inside, closing once they went through and vanishing without a trace.

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

  There was a small door in the wall, slightly above a cabinet. It gave a faint glow and spat the humans on the ground, but they couldn't identify where they were. 

  Holding a flashlight in his hands, Mikey turned it on and pointed around, but even with the lighting, he couldn’t make anything out in this place. “That’s one weird road. It doesn’t seem to end, and it’s made of... marble?” The last statement made it curiouser and curiouser for them. 

  “A doorknob as a key, a never-ending path, this pitch black darkness! What’s with this pla-” Dave shouted, but stopped himself as he noticed Mikey looking up. Mikey wasn’t moving. “Are we… being watched?”

  Suddenly, a burst of light took over the place. Could it be the sun? No, it was…

  …a lightbulb. 

  The mysterious place was like the kitchen of a regular house. Its size was crushing in comparison to the humans, who were not much taller than a nearby salt shaker. It had a maroon touch to match its wooden floor and table. The black marble cabinet served as the "road" for the humans' arrival. 

  Who lived here? Mikey was confused. Then, the sight of their spectator had his body refusing to make a sound, frozen firmly in place. 

  His spiked fur had earthly tones that faded into grey. Hair covered his eyes, leaving an unnerving grin as their only guide to the creature's emotions. His strong physique was accompanied by scars that covered his entire body. Some resembled shooting stars–how curious. 

  He was a wolf. Something about the scars cutting through the wolf's fur reminded Charlie of a forest in the winter after a massacre–something soft and grey cut through by something harsh and bloody.

  “Um, a trio…?” the wolf spoke, the voice coming out in a low growl. “This night just got interesting.” Their eyes were locked with the humans, but the wolf didn't move an inch. He only stood there, patiently waiting for their reaction.

  “We…we need to go, now.” The trembling voice belonged to Charlie. They grabbed both of their friends' hands, going back and forth and looking in every direction in hopes of seeing the door. All three of them were shaking now.

  Charlie had hoped for a moment to breathe, but the wolf was already in front of them.

  “Going so soon? It isn't polite for visitors to come in without asking. Since I'm in a good mood, I suppose an exception can be made for you little morsels.” 

  The deep, guttural aspect didn't make any of them feel secure. If anything, it was worse. 

  The wolf grasped all three of the humans in one of his hands unceremoniously. He picked up a plate with the other and placed it on the table, dropping the humans on top of it. He sat in the chair and used his arms to rest his chin. “How about a game? No one can refuse a good game.”

  “Charlie… I don't think we should trust our host so blindly. If you didn't notice yet by his size and how he acts, we will get crushed,” Dave whispered, shoving his hands into his jacket in an attempt to stop the shaking. 

  “I-I know, but we don't have a choice here. The door is gone and so is the ‘key’ we had,” Charlie replied. They knew the Wolf wouldn’t make the “game” fair–but what choice did they have?

  “What kind of game…?” Mikey asked innocently, with a certain curiosity in his tone. His eyes refused to look at the wolf.

  “Oh, it's something simple, no need for those ones overflowing with rules. Each of you have five minutes to decide who is the first, second and last one to…” The Wolf gave a chuckle, the grin revealing some of his teeth. “...become my meal, of course. But I'm feeling kind-hearted tonight, so you may choose the order, my little morsels~” He took an hourglass from his pocket and flipped it upside-down, the falling sand announcing the start of the “game.” 

  “We, we, we- we can find a way around this! It's a game, he's just playing with us!” Mikey said. His friends could almost hear a quiet "…right?" coming out at the end of the sentence. His body was shaking. 

  “Mikey, everything is going to be just fine, ok? I’ll think of a plan with Charlie…” Dave knew they didn't have a chance, but he would grasp at the tiniest glimpse of hope he could find. “...I’ll give myself first, indulge him enough for you two to hide, find a solution, anything, okay? I know I can hold him off for a while, but I need you to promise that you’ll take Mikey and think of something.” Dave affirmed.

  The arguing took a while, but due to the little time they had it seemed like hours had passed and so they stopped, except... Mikey was quiet.

  The sight made them freeze in terror. 

  Mikey’s arm was halfway in the wolf’s maw. He was breathing heavily, desperately looking for something to hold onto. He grasped the pearly whites which would soon seal his fate…which was a mistake. 

  “Stop…stop-” The sound came from Charlie. They raised a hand in the wolf’s direction, trying to reach their friend's hand, until…a crimson fluid fell on Dave's shoulder, descending from the wolf’s jaws. Their eyes followed the trail till they met the source–an arm with light brown skin that stopped moving. 

  Charlie briefly saw the hourglass. It was hazy, but they quickly saw the state of the sand–empty. The humans had forgotten about the time.

  Dave fell onto the ground, his face covered in what remained of his friend. Something stirred within him, ancient as time itself, stronger than joy, far deeper than anger…fear. 

  A cacophony swelled in his head. Glk. Dave couldn't focus on anything but the sound as the wolf swallowed. Glrk. 

  Mikey was gone. Only the two humans remained. 

  “However, as much as I adore this taste, it wasn't worth the mess for such a delicacy. Besides, what value does a dull morsel hold? What a shame.” He licked the deep red that stained his fur–after all, he had manners–but soon he turned to the trembling forms on his plate. “The strongest one is the easiest to break, how peculiar~” He was grinning. 

  Dave looked up. His empty eyes gave up as tears rose to the surface". “I-I was going first–you should have taken me, that wasn't the plan, can’t you take me instead?! T-that's, that's–THAT'S NOT HOW IT WAS-” 

  The words barely came out of his lips before he was interrupted by the wolf, who leaned closer to the plate. “Tsk, tsk. Oh, my dear visitors, five minutes each. If I were to make an exception, I would simply take it as an invitation to play with the rules. Perhaps I could eat you sooner?” The wolf flipped the hourglass once again and gave them a grin, the same one they had been met with earlier.

  “NO-N-no…we will play, he only needs time. Dave…” 

  Dave was silent. 

  “…Dave. D-” 

  When he finally spoke, Charlie saw that Dave’s rainy, soulless eyes were still facing the wolf. “W-we are already going to suffocate in your stomach! Mikey got hurt! ...monster...you’re a monster.” As soon as he finished, almost immediately, a hand grabbed him. It was different from when he had Mikey in his grasp–it clenched him, hard. 

  The wolf gave another chuckle, accompanied by a sarcastic tone. “Your little friend got so desperate for things to be over that he got a simple bruise. I didn’t do anything~” His grip got tighter. “My food might not show its fear, but the smell is so intoxicating, the heartbeat gets louder...and since you look so brave now, tell me, little morsel, are monsters born…or made?” 

  He grabbed Charlie and left the table, making his way to the couch. He laid down, putting Charling on top of his stomach and resuming the play with Dave. Charlie was quiet. All they could do was watch–they felt powerless over the wolf, hugging their legs and waiting for all of this to end. 

  The wolf picked Dave up by the collar of his shirt and parted his lips, dangling the frightened human over his longing maw. He dropped him, only to close his teeth with a snap.

  Dave sighed. His body was shaking but he felt...relieved.

Dave didn’t fight or thrash around as one would expect. His eyes were closed, trying to think of it like a bad dream. Soon, he would wake up safe and sound in his home. Just as he grabbed this glimpse of hope, the wolf pinned him on the hard palate with his tongue, slowly drifting his meal to its end. 

  The corridor of the wolf’s throat moved on its own, almost as if it was another being. With a single, deep gulp, Dave was hugged by the pulsing walls, choking on the feeling of serving as food for another being. He passed out. 

  “Not much of a fighter, huh. Not that a broken toy has a purpose, anyway.” 

  One human remained.

  Grrgle. The wolf turned his vision to Charlie, who flinched upon hearing the wolf’s stomach.

  A river flowed from Charlie’s eyes. They tried to wipe it away, but it didn’t stop. It finally hit them. 

  They’re gone. 

  “C-can you... promise it won’t hurt? That they didn’t suffer?” 

  The wolf slowly turned his head to face the human. They could feel him exhaling a heavy, humid air. The feeling of the unknown made Charlie uneasy. They were shaking. 

  Erov gave them a toothy grin. “Boo~” 

  …all of the humans were gone.

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

  A peaceful night fell into the town. Empty streets, the lack of sound…a perfect Saturday, except...that already happened. Charlie woke up in their home–they fell asleep on the couch. It was late. “Just a bad dream...thank-” 

  They couldn’t help but notice their friends sleeping on a mattress on the floor. Mikey had a scar in his arm. “Did he always have that scar...?” Charlie mumbled. Mikey did fall sometimes, but never to the point of getting hurt. 

  Charlie thought about it for a while, but as soon as they looked at the bedside table, they found a doorknob on top of a letter. Charlie’s heart skipped a beat. 

  It wasn’t a dream.

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

A huge wolf rested on his bed, the cold weather of a cloudy day presenting him with a small light indicating the dawn. His chest expanded and contracted as he breathed, a rhythm almost therapeutic with the tranquility of the environment. He was in a protective pose, as if one of his arms served as a shield for the tiny being sleeping in his presence–much smaller than the wolf, but who found comfort in the overwhelming figure.

  He woke up, slightly breaking his position in hopes of not waking the little being as he rose from his bed. He pulled his hair back, holding it in a bun. The wolf opened his eyes–black as the night itself, with a blueish-silver glow to their irises. He was awake.

  Despite his serious expression, his countenance was calm. Erov had lost the playfulness he displayed when messing with his food. He looked at the fragile form sleeping on his bed again–it was shaking.

  He sighed and laid down again, putting his head closer to the form. “Shhh…I’m here…” He was worried, but the form turned in their sleep and hugged the wolf’s snout. “Rrrrrr…” Erov gave a low growl–though it felt almost like a purr. He had things to do this morning, but he could wait. They needed him–they were someone important who cared about him.

  In that moment, just for a second, the world stopped and felt warm.

[toast-tales]

Cursed Cravings, Chapter 12: The Beast

In which Danny sees what Christopher has been trying to hide from her. Contains: 4.4k words | Chapter 1 | Read this story on A03!

There was something odd about Christopher’s behavior the week after the ball he’d put on, but Danny couldn’t put her finger on what it was, exactly. He’d taken to isolating himself in his room more often, and every time she saw him—because he still served her meals, at least—she swore there was something more gaunt about his face, dark circles weighing beneath his eyes and a grim sort of fatigue about him. He’d started leaving his horns uncovered, and after a few days it almost seemed like they were slightly longer than before, extending past the back of his head so that his bun couldn’t have hidden them if he tried. Or so it seemed—when she asked, Christopher quickly denied it, and the subject was never brought up again. 

He kept saying he felt sick, that he just needed to rest. She couldn’t figure him out—he seemed to actively avoid any company with her, yet when he did grace her with his presence for those brief moments, it almost seemed like he clung to those seconds, as if it hurt for him to leave. His sentences were short and to the point, but his eyes betrayed a strange, inscrutable sadness.

She asked about the reason for his morose attitude, constantly. He simply denied it.

It went on this way for almost a week. Each day, Danny saw less and less of him until he disappeared completely a few days ago, with Sam being the one to deliver her food to her room instead. Sam always dodged the question when Danny asked what Christopher was up to. 

That day, a week after the ball and three days since Danny had seen the giant last, Danny gave a pointed look towards the door that opened of its own accord as the familiar wheeled cart made its way into her room with a tray of food atop it. “Where is he, Sam? Is he still feeling sick?” 

An increasingly small part of her was annoyed at the fact that she cared. If anything, shouldn’t she prefer to have less contact with her captor? 

In truth, she hadn’t felt much like a prisoner at all in the past few weeks, which was surely the first sign that she was beginning to lose her grip on reality. The second sign was that she had genuinely started to feel concern for the giant with the way he’d been carrying himself—such a stark difference from his usual, smug, confident facade. She was worried that there was something genuinely very wrong. 

The cart that rolled up to her bed sagged, its legs curving downward in something that seemed to convey a familiar weariness. Sam hadn’t been in the highest of spirits either lately. “Yeah. Chris is, uh…he’s not feeling much like his usual self lately. He’s…resting.” 

“Is he sick? What’s wrong with him?” Danny’s brow furrowed. Could giants even get sick? What would they do if he was? Surely they couldn’t just call for a doctor.

Sam hesitated, the cart bending forward so that Danny could grab her food. It was a motion one could almost describe as sheepish. “He’s…he’s fine, this happens every so often. Don’t worry about it.” 

Danny took the plate of food, but barely gave it a sideways glance as she set it next to her on the bed. “Can I…see him?”

The cart snapped back up to its normal height very, very quickly. “No. That’s, uh…not a great idea right now.” 

Danny stood up to her full height—which, all things considering, wasn’t very intimidating, especially since she was struggling to keep her balance on a giant mattress. But she was at least taller than the cart that served as Sam’s temporary body, and that was good enough for now.

“Oh? And why not?” She crossed her arms defiantly, hoping Sam had a weak enough will to give in to her interrogation. She was tired of the lame excuses and the vague responses. She wanted answers. 

The cart rolled away slowly before it stopped in its tracks, and Sam’s voice came from the curtains above her on the bedpost—quiet and, if she had to guess, purposefully stalling for time. “Listen, I, uh…I can’t talk about it.” 

She redirected her gaze to the general location of Sam’s voice, casting a withering glare towards the green gossamer that seemed to be curling even tighter around the bedpost. “What, did he forbid you or something? Why can’t you just tell me what’s wrong with him?” 

Is he hiding something? If it was just a regular illness, something that happened a lot, surely he wouldn’t be acting so weird about it, right? Is it more serious than that? 

Or is he just…avoiding me for some reason?

The curtains deflated with what sounded like a heavy sigh, and she saw the flame in the lamp on her nightstand diminish to almost nothing all of a sudden. Sam’s voice came from the lamp, as soft and sad as the tiny flame they’d nearly snuffed out. “Trust me. It’s probably better if you stay here, and don’t worry about it.”

Danny had never been one to relent, and she wasn’t about to start now. Every passing moment strengthened her resolve, but she knew she wasn’t getting anywhere if she couldn’t convince Sam to help. “Hell no. I want to see him. And you’re gonna take me to him.” 

“Why do you want to see him so badly?” Sam asked, plainly.

“Well Jesus, it almost sounds like he’s dying or something,” she grumbled, before she nearly bit her tongue as she thought of how insensitive that could be, given she still didn’t know if that was the case or not. She redirected her gaze elsewhere, although with Sam, she never really knew if she was making eye contact in the first place. “I’ve just…been worried about him. I want to see him, if something’s really wrong.” 

The flame of the lamp flickered nervously before it regained itself, beginning to burn a little brighter than before. “You…care that much about him?”

What a weird question. “I mean, I at least care enough to make sure he’s not dying.” She gave the lamp a look that bordered on pleading, though she tried to convince herself she was still remaining firm and resolute. “Please, Sam.”

The room was silent, with only the whistling of the wind in the trees outside to fill the air. For a moment, she thought that Sam had left—but somehow, she could still feel the manservant’s presence in the room, tremulous and uncertain as they seemed to consider her request.

“He’s going to kill me,” she heard Sam mumble to themself.

She nearly fell over as the blanket beneath her lifted up slowly, before floating off of the bed and landing gently on the floor. 

“I’ll…I’ll let you into his room.” 

Danny scrambled off of the blanket, giving it a warm grin as she righted herself again. “Thanks, Sam. You’re the best.” 

The blanket folded itself neatly back onto the bed, its edges giving a neat little flick of pride as it did so. Sam chuckled lightly. “I know.” 

The cart that had rolled in with Danny’s now-forgotten food bent down so that the bottom shelf of it was low enough for Danny to climb onto it. She scrambled on, and it began to make its way towards the open door, moving slowly and soundlessly down the hall.

The cart slowed down even further as it rounded a corner to be met with the grand entrance hall, rolling to a stop at the foot of the huge wooden staircase in its center. From Danny’s extremely low vantage point, it curved up further than she could see. She got off the cart as it bent down again, and a corner of the fabric runner on the stairs beckoned her over with a tiny wave. 

As she approached it, the deep red fabric scooped her up and began to smoothly lift her up the enormous stairs, one by one.

“Hey, Danny?” 

She stared blankly ahead as she traveled upwards, knowing it was better than looking behind her as they rose higher than she’d ever been in the house before. She’d never been taken to the second floor of the mansion. “Yeah?”

Sam’s voice came from directly beneath her, closer than she’d ever heard them. “I know it wasn’t under the…best of circumstances, but I’m really glad to have met you. And Christopher is too, even if he doesn’t admit it.” 

A weight sank into her stomach like a ship with lead sails, slow and heavy. She figured out what it was that had been bugging her about Christopher and Sam’s behavior lately—besides the fact that they both continuously dodged her questions. Their actions, the way they spoke, everything was colored with a sort of…finality, as if they were preparing for some inevitable end.

Was Christopher…going to die? 

At the moment, it was the only thing that seemed to make sense to Danny. She felt her hands going clammy all of a sudden as an icy chill prickled across her skin. No. No, surely that couldn’t be the case. Could it?

I mean, if he dies, I go free, don’t I?

The thought came and went without leaving a mark behind, like a leaf blown away by the wind. Her freedom wasn’t even close to the forefront of her mind anymore—not to mention she only had a week left, anyways.

And what good was freedom if her friend had to die for it? 

That word stuck and wedged itself into her brain—friend. Was Christopher her friend? Had she really just called the giant who’d imprisoned her for weeks her friend? 

She brushed that mess of confusing thoughts aside. Friend or no, she didn’t want to see Christopher die. She doubted there was anything she could even do if that was the case—but at the very least, she wanted to be there for him. As little sense as it made, she needed to be there for him now.

“I…I’m glad to have met you too, Sam. You’ve been really kind to me so far.” She laughed, though the sound was prickled with nervousness. “But I think you’re being a bit dramatic. I’ve still got a week—you’re talking like this is the last time you’ll see me.” 

The runner reached the top of the stairs and gently helped Danny onto the wooden floor before setting back onto the stairs with a sad resignation about it. “Well, you know…I’ve been around for a while. I’ve seen a lot of people come and go. Mostly go.” 

It felt a bit strange to do so, but Danny bent down to give the corner of the runner nearest to her a gentle pat, hoping Sam was still possessing it. She gave a short, strained laugh as she tried to swallow her nerves. “I’m not going anywhere for now, Sam. Just…take me to Christopher.”

There was another long rug that ran all the way down the hallway, and its edges fluttered weakly in an invitation for her. She stepped onto it and the red carpet moved her along the hallway, cradling her entirely as it did so. She had to admit—it was an efficient, if slightly weird way to travel.

The closer they seemed to get to their destination, the slower Sam moved, until the rug crawled to a stop just outside a huge, intricately designed wooden door at the end of the hallway. It was, by far, the fanciest door she’d seen so far in the mansion, and it loomed overhead like the face of an enormous cliff.

Danny stepped off the rug and turned to face Sam one last time. “Thank you again, Sam. I really appreciate it.”

The rug settled almost uncomfortably back onto the floor. “Just…remember what I said earlier, okay? He’s not his normal self right now. Try not to…judge him too harshly.” 

Danny smirked. “How bad could he be? It’ll be fine, I got it.” 

The door opened just a crack, enough for Danny to make her way through it to the room on the other side.

It shut behind her with a soft click.

The first thing she could hear was Christopher’s labored breathing from the bed on the other side of the room, leagues away from her. And then, suddenly, it stopped. It felt like all of the air had been sucked out of the room—it was absent of Sam’s familiar presence, and dead silent. A pin drop could have cut through the tension.

“Christopher?” she called out tentatively, raising her voice even knowing that the giant should be able to hear her anyways. “Are you okay?”

“Danny?” Christopher’s voice was weak and trembling—he sounded almost shocked. “You…you shouldn’t be here. Sam shouldn’t have let you in. You need to leave. Now.” 

This did not dissuade Danny from proceeding further—it only made her approach the bed at a faster pace than before. “Leave? You sound awful. I came to check up on you, bastard. And I am not leaving until I figure out what the hell’s wrong with you.”

She saw the giant sit bolt upright in bed as she got closer, staring at her down on the floor with an expression she couldn’t make out clearly, with the shadows from the lamplight casting half his face into darkness. His hair was a frenzied mess, not neatly put up like it normally was—it hung limp and tangled over his shoulders, revealing the horns on his head clearly. They wound around his scalp before curving up into thin, sharp tips that reached well above the top of his head.

Are they…bigger than before? He didn’t say anything about them growing like that. 

He gripped the blankets with a worrying intensity, like they were at risk of flying away from him. He didn’t even seem to be breathing as he sat there, still as stone. 

She boldly stared back at him, his behavior only making her more confused—and concerned. “What’s up with you?” 

His grip on the bed linens tightened further, as if his muscles had begun to seize. “I…don’t…” His chest heaved with a single, heavy breath as he inhaled deeply, and his whole body trembled. “Please. I don’t want to…I don’t want to do this. You…you need to leave.” 

She decided that she was close enough to the bed now—still able to see Christopher’s face over its edge—so she planted her feet apart in the most confident stance she could muster and crossed her arms as she’d done earlier with Sam, ignoring every warning from the anxiety that was starting to creep into her body. “No. Put aside your fucking pride for one damn minute. I’m here because I care about you, okay?”

“Danny, Danny listen to me. I can’t…” He gripped his stomach, a painful growl escaping through his clenched teeth.

“Look at yourself!” She waved at him frantically. “You’re in pain. I’m not gonna just leave you when you’re hurting like this.” She spoke more gently, her voice laden with compassion. “I told you, you don’t have to hide things from me. I’m…your friend, Christopher. I want to help.” 

She realized it didn’t even feel strange to refer to him as a friend, though it had been the first admission from her own mouth out loud. She couldn’t deny that she cared about the person in front of her, and that she hated to see him hurting like this. She just wished she knew what to do.

“It’s because you’re my friend that you need to—AAAGH!” Christopher doubled over and cried out suddenly, a sound that wrenched Danny’s heart with a deep, piercing ache. It was a cry of frustration and despair as well as pain, loud enough to make her ears hurt from the volume. 

She winced, but did not budge.

She felt so incredibly powerless on the floor. She couldn’t get closer to Christopher, she couldn’t do anything to reassure him…she couldn’t really do anything at all.

“Sam,” she called out, knowing the house’s spirit could hear her from wherever they were in the house, praying that they would help her again. “Bring me up to him.”

“Don’t,” Christopher growled, still doubled over atop the bed.

At first, there was no response—and then she watched as one of the bedposts twisted and curled in on itself, its wood silently forming into a tiny, human-sized spiral staircase that wound all the way to the top of the giant bed. Danny wasted no time in rushing over to it, leaping up the stairs almost two at a time.

“God damn it, Sam,” Christopher seethed.

“Chris, she’s right. You’re just going to hurt yourself at this rate. You can’t—”

Christopher made a sound somewhere between a growl and a moan to cut off the voice that floated hesitantly from somewhere nearby. “Shut up.” It wasn’t an authoritative command by any means—more of a quiet whimper, but Sam complied nonetheless. 

When Danny finally reached the top of the stairs, she was nearly out of breath, but she still yelled despite her lungs gasping for air. “You are so fucking stubborn, bastard. Just tell me what’s wrong!”

Though he was still bent over, kneeling on the bed with his arms wrapped tightly around his middle, Christopher’s head snapped to face her in an instant, his wide and bloodshot eyes fixed on her with a newfound intensity.

It was hard to tell in the dim light, but they almost seemed…darker.

“Leave,” he gasped, desperation clawing at every edge of his voice. She could see now that there was a slight tremor in his fingers that clenched the fabric of his shirt. “...please. You don't…you don't deserve this.”

Danny took a few more steps toward the giant, slowly, like she was approaching a spooked horse. “Christopher,” she began, a much quieter authority in her voice.

She could hear every breath he took in the aching silence as she approached him, but as she reached his body and put her hand against the wide expanse of his knee, his breathing stopped. His eyes never left her—he didn’t even seem to blink.

He’s been alone here for a long time.

“You’re not alone right now. I don’t know what’s wrong, but whether you like it or not, I’m gonna be here for you. Got it?” 

She heard the giant swallow, his lips trembling. Finally, he managed a single, quivering word.

“Why?”

She huffed a quiet laugh. “For such a smart guy, you sure ask a lot of stupid questions. ‘Why?’ Because believe it or not, I give half a damn about you. That’s what friends do. They help each other.”

Christopher shook his head as if to refute her notion, but he didn’t say anything else in reply. He squeezed his eyes shut, muttering something under his breath she couldn’t make out.

A tear fell from his eyes to the sheets below.

“Now, can you just tell me what’s wrong?” Her voice was gentler, as if she was talking to a troubled Nathan instead of a miserable giant.

His lips barely parted as he mumbled out a single word.

“S…starving…”

Danny cocked her head, confused. “How can you be hungry? You said giants didn’t need to eat—”

Something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye. Her gaze traveled to his palm that still clung to his shirt tightly. She saw a dark, crimson color stain his fingers and the white shirt in the dim light—not from an underlying wound, but from his palms themselves. He was somehow pressing his nails into his palms so hard that they had begun to bleed.

“Hey! Don’t do that, you’re hurting yourself, dammit!” She’d been ready to climb up his knee to get closer when she stopped suddenly, her breath catching in her throat. 

Christopher slowly unfurled his fist and let go of his shirt, revealing the fresh, bloody wounds in his palm—and fingers that had somehow grown long, sharp nails, just as black as his horns. It looked almost like a dark malaise had begun to travel down his skin, coloring his newly-grown claws and the tips of his fingers as black as pitch.

Christopher’s eyes snapped open to view her with a sudden, intense urgency. 

The giant’s eyes were black—completely, like an inkwell had spilled behind his eyelids and drained them of light. 

A sharp spike of fear slithered down her spine in an instant, but she still didn’t move until she heard the next word from Christopher’s mouth—broken, raspy, and sounding not entirely…human or giant. 

“Run.” 

The fear inside of her snapped like a wire and she threw herself away from the giant, obeying his instruction without a second thought. Putting herself so close to Christopher meant that she had more ground to cover to get to the staircase Sam had made for her, but she bolted for it all the same. She only narrowly avoided Christopher’s first attempt at grabbing her, his hand shooting out towards her with a wild ferocity like he’d become possessed by some feral animal.

What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK. WHAT. THE. FUCK.

“CHRISTOPHER!” she cried out, not slowing down in the least or daring to look behind her before she finally reached the stairs, leaping down them as quickly as she could. “Christopher, snap the fuck out of it!”

That can’t be him. He wouldn’t attack me like this. What the FUCK is going on?

Christopher seemed to be beyond the point of engaging in conversation. She heard him growl in frustration as he scrambled off the bed, frantically swiping around the bedpost to grab her again while she was part of the way down the staircase. She decided to leap down to the floor and ignore the rest of the stairs entirely, feeling his fingers just barely graze her as she did. The impact wasn’t exactly soft, but she tried to keep her knees bent and let the adrenaline propel her forward.

She couldn’t outrun him. She had to be smart. Under the bed. It was her only chance—she sprinted under the bed frame, aiming for the middle that would hopefully be far enough out of his reach. It was dark, and dusty, and she thought she could see the shadow of what looked like a spider carcass somewhere ahead, but it was easy not to think about it when she was gripped with the terror of her life being on the line. 

She’d only been able to buy herself a few seconds of rest to catch her breath. A horrible, deafening SCREECH made her throw her hands over her ears, and in a split second the dark safety she'd managed to claim gave way to open air as the entire bed—the huge, ornate, four-poster bed—was shoved out of the way, scraping against the hardwood floor and leaving her standing completely out in the open. Christopher towered over her, breathing heavily. The light from the window behind him cast him in shadow, making his horned silhouette all the more terrifying.

Danny was frozen in place. There was nowhere for her to go. Snarky retorts would do next to nothing here, and it was clear to her that no matter how much she tried to fight, she was supremely outmatched in every way. 

The air was stripped from her lungs in an instant as she was snatched up and lifted high into the air, level with the giant’s face—there was none of the usual care for her comfort, no grace and poise about his movements now. She could feel the sharp point of his claw press against her chest, but not hard enough to cause any pain—yet.

A bit of Christopher's blood stained her shirt.

She stared at the giant’s face with wide, frantic eyes, still not quite able to put together what was happening. There wasn’t a hint of humanity left in Christopher’s face—his pitch-black eyes bore into her like a wolf about to pounce, ready to tear her flesh apart. It wasn’t the giant she knew. It wasn’t Christopher at all. 

It was a monster.

“I know you’re still in there, bastard,” she gasped, her voice wavering despite her desire to be brave. “I know this isn’t you. Please, Christopher.” 

It could have been her imagination—but she swore the grip on her loosened slightly, a slight tremor running through the hand that held her. 

The giant swallowed again, and this close to his mouth, the innocuous action sent another chill up her spine. What is he going to do to me? Is he going to kill me? 

Is he going to…eat me?

The hand that might have possibly considered letting her go had no such plans anymore—his fingers tightened around her again and she felt the sharp tip of his claw against the base of her throat, preventing her from moving or looking anywhere besides straight into the unfeeling void that had taken over Christopher’s eyes. 

He moved her so close to his face that his lips brushed against her, and she fought to contain her body’s sudden shaking. 

“Please,” she whimpered, “don’t hurt me, Christopher.” 

She felt his lips tremble, as if there truly was something inside this monster holding him back. She held her breath as she waited, praying silently that it was her friend and that he would regain control of his senses.

It was her only hope left.

A few ragged, hoarse words escaped his lips, as if it was a struggle for him to simply force them out—as if he was trying to speak while having the air choked out of him, like an invisible noose was tied tightly around his neck. It still didn't sound like Christopher’s normal voice.

“You’ll…be…safe…”

His lips parted against her.

She couldn’t understand why she had lost the will to fight—it went against every fiber of her being. She never gave up, even when things seemed hopeless. Normally, she would scratch and bite and claw her way out, scream and yell and curse until her throat was sore. 

But she didn’t. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes, her heart pounding so fast she thought it would burst, but she could not summon the anger she needed to fight back and escape. 

Her world changed in an instant as the giant pushed her into his mouth, and everything became dark and wet and cramped. Whether from fear or shock, her body went limp as she submitted weakly to the horror that surrounded her. 

She believed him. 

A giant beast had snatched her up in its claws, growling like a wild animal and shoving her into its mouth to consume her whole.

But when her friend told her she would be safe, she believed him.

And it was yet to be seen whether or not that was the last stupid decision she’d ever make. 

* * * * * * * * * *

Next chapter ->

I'm sure you were all wondering when some of the tags on this story would actually come into play, weren't you?

Tune in next week for Chapter 13: Matters of the Flesh. And thank you for reading!

FANART of this chapter by the wonderful @safe-from-sharp-teeth !

[qualityfunnyscenariosfire]

HEY

Ik I haven't msde official posts in a long time but do you guys want vore stories again? Idk

[voraciousvore]

Giganterra (Chapter 61)

Prologue/ TOC | Previous (60) | Final Chapter/ Epilogue

Content Warning: soft vore/ endosoma, gore, fatality

Word Count: 3.1k

------ Chapter 61: The Deepest Layer of Hell ------

As Chester leaned over to test the king’s dish, he smelled Ronny. He didn’t know why, or how, since Ronny wasn’t present in the dining room. He sniffed closer and perceived that the prince’s scent was coming from the plate of pasta. He located the source and stabbed into one of the rigatoni noodles with curiosity. 

“No!” Eren gasped from below, almost inaudibly. Chester made eye contact with her and noticed her frantically shaking her head, silently pleading with him. He looked back into the noodle with renewed interest as he lifted it up. 

There he was: Ronny, smaller than an ant. He was barely a dot, like a flake of pepper, indiscernible if not for Chester’s superior olfactory capabilities. Chester barely managed to hide his surprise. Why was Ronny in the king’s dinner, miniaturized into nothing? He glanced over at King Richard. The brute was drooling over the tiny lady in his food, as expected, but appeared to be completely oblivious to the presence of his son. Chester had seen him eat enough people to know that he enjoyed terrorizing his prey before chowing down: He’d be tormenting Ronny if he intended to devour him. 

So why was Ronny here? If, by some odd twist, he’d been accidentally shrunk, he could cry out for help or run away. If he didn’t wish to be eaten, he could make himself known. That didn’t appear to be the case, and Eren’s reaction was not lost on Chester either. They were up to no good. He was certain of it. 

“Chester? Is there a problem?” King Richard questioned with impatience. Chester’s heart jumped into his throat. He had only a millisecond to make a snap decision. 

“No, sire,” Chester responded. He allowed the noodle with Ronny inside to slide off his fork back to the plate. “Oops.” 

“Then hurry up already,” the king growled. “I’m starving.” Chester picked out a different noodle and tasted it. 

“All clear,” he confirmed, and backed off, his heart hammering. He could scarcely believe what he’d just done, but the more he contemplated his decision, the more he knew it was the right one. If the prince was taking decisive action against his father, Chester wasn’t going to stop him, for he harbored no fondness for the ruthless king that ordered him to be flogged for his failures. A spark of hope ignited in his soul. If Ronny assassinated his father, and Chester won favor for allying himself with the successor in a critical moment, he had a chance to save Jackie. Chester excused himself from the dining room as soon as he was able, not wishing to be implicated in any plot in case the prince failed. 

Ronny panted from the stress, collecting himself after being dropped in a squishy mess. He slowly became aware that Chester had retreated without exposing him. However, he had little respite, burdened with the horrifying knowledge that he was about to be eaten alive. The giant began to dine on his dinner, impaling his massive fork into the pasta around Eren. He used more force than necessary, with the sole intention of frightening her. He poked her with the prongs, causing her to yelp, before scooping her up. Ronny peeked out and watched with horror as the giant’s mouth opened wide and engulfed her. He slurped her off the fork, savoring her rich flavor as he rolled her around in his mouth. 

Ronny clasped his own neck with discomfort as he watched the king swallow. The giant hummed with satisfaction, a thrumming roar, as his Adam’s apple bounced in a decisive stroke. Ronny had witnessed the king eat countless humans, and had indeed swallowed multitudes himself, yet the sight of a woman who was as big as a giantess to him being gulped down an even more massive throat produced within him a visceral reaction. He would sprint like a rabbit, if he wasn’t pinned down in his hiding spot with paralyzing fear. 

His insides lurched as the colossal fork collided against the bottom of the plate with an earsplitting screech. Metal scraped on porcelain and the eating utensil raised with a mountain of pasta noodles. The whole pile was ingested with startling speed, with minimal chewing as the goliath jaws flexed a few times in mastication before the food was sent down. 

The microscopic prince trembled. He didn’t consider the grisly possibility that he might get crushed by the giant’s molars. He may not even make it down to the stomach alive. Normally, Hardon wasn’t keen on chewing up the miniature people that he ate, preferring their frantic thrashing in his guts, but of course he wasn’t aware that live prey was currently present in his food. 

Ronny had barely processed this looming threat before the fork attacked again, this time skewering his pasta cave. The prince shrieked before quickly covering his mouth with both hands, desperate to stay quiet. He whined faintly as he flew up into the air, his stomach flip-flopping with dread. He looked out through the noodle entrance to behold a pair of titanic lips that stretched across his entire range of vision. The lips separated, opening to foul darkness. The food, along with Ronny, was thrust inside. 

Ronny belted out an involuntary scream. A barricade of teeth chomped down behind him. He jumped forward, out of the noodle as it slopped down into the pit. Ronny slapped onto a bumpy, squishy, slimy surface and struggled blindly to escape his fate as his mind overloaded with alarm. The wet carpet beneath him flexed in a rolling wave, and Ronny realized with horror he was laying on a gigantic tongue. The revelation was petrifying enough to freeze him in place. 

Whimpering uncontrollably, Ronny cranked his head back to observe the interior of the giant mouth. The roof of the mouth was ribbed and vaulted, as high above his head as the ceiling of a grand cathedral. The teeth were as big and craggy as boulders, crashing together as they demolished the pasta into paste in a mushy cacophony. Ronny’s skin gave off just enough of a magical glow to illuminate the enclosure of moving red flesh and bone around him. He bounced on the tongue as the enormous jaws chewed with chaotic, jerky motions. 

The muscular tongue shifted with sentient purpose, rubbing and sloshing against him. A wave of saliva swept him up and oscillated in the cavernous maw. The tongue reared up and slammed against him, squishing him into the enormous molars with shocking force. Ronny felt like he would pop under the strain; he harnessed all his willpower not to squirm, sucking in a deep breath before he was submerged by the wet wall of meat. He realized, with horror, that the giant was tasting him. 

Did he know? Could he recognize the taste? Ronny didn’t have time to think as the huge tongue wrestled him down into the ridge of gums. By sheer luck, he narrowly avoided getting wedged between two teeth. The pressure was unbearable, but the prince knew he’d be discovered if he struggled. He let out a soft wail as the taste buds raked his bare skin, leaving behind a thick film. Fortunately, the tongue relented, and Ronny gasped for breath as he was scooped up by the fleshy mass and backslid along a trail of saliva and processed pasta. 

“MMMMMMMM,” the giant sighed, rumbling the cavity like an earthquake. A gust of breath whooshed over the prince, and he understood with apprehension that he was approaching the base of the tongue. He raised himself up, bedraggled and saturated with filth, to behold the massive gullet yawning above him. A current of moist, malodorous air rose from the depths of the dark hole, hinting at just how far down the unplumbed chasm continued. Ronny involuntarily shuddered. 

The saliva and chewed-up slop pooled around him and started to suck back with a grotesque slurp. Ronny cried out as he realized what was happening, but was powerless to halt his descent as he slid down into the hungry black abyss below. He caught a final glimpse of the gates of fearsome teeth, the curved palate at the top, and the dangling uvula before the passageway of the throat closed around him and gulped down the mushy bolus, with Ronny mixed inside. 

Ronny, lubricated with a thick coat of spit and mucus, slid down the slippery pipeline with minimal resistance. He was so miniscule that the squeezing ripples of muscle hardly compressed him at all. He screamed and cried with the knowledge that nobody would hear him over the sloshing of fluids and the throbbing of the giant’s gargantuan organs all around him. He felt like he was descending to the center of the earth, into the molten core, with how hot and dark and deep the channel became as he fell. The esophagus felt like it would never end. 

The heat increased, and Ronny believed he could hear gurgling, like boiling magma, in the void below. As he plummeted down, a pattern like a starfish appeared at the base of the tunnel and rapidly advanced towards him. He dropped into it, squeezing through the ring of muscle and then falling an alarming distance through open space. He splashed into a stinging sea that bubbled with vociferous energy, as if alive. 

Ronny broke; being eaten alive was too much for him to handle. He was in hell. He forgot his mission as his eyes were assaulted with the horrific imagery of wrinkled, pulsing walls of dripping red that stirred the frothing contents of the stomach into a whirlpool. He was too small to resist the flow as he rotated in a steady churn in the enormous chamber, lost and helpless. There was no way out; he was trapped. 

“Oh god! Help me! Get me out of here!” he wailed as he paddled and flailed pathetically in the digestive juices. “Help! Please!” He bumped into a half-digested chunk of an unrecognizable food item and yelled shrilly. The loud grumbling of the belly as it processed the giant’s dinner was loud and disturbing, drowning Ronny in a mess of noise and vibration. He felt like he was going to die. 

Suddenly, a voice called out to him from the darkness. “Ronny!” An immense glowing figure, like a gastric sea monster, waded towards him, parting the bubbles and bits of food in a wave before her. She wrapped her fingers around his small form gently and raised him out of the muck. “Are you okay?” 

“No!” Ronny bawled. “This is horrible!” 

“I know. The first time is always the worst,” Eren replied soothingly. “But you’ll be okay. The magic will protect you from digestion. You won’t be harmed—physically, at least.” Her features softened with sympathy. 

Though she was trying to comfort him, her words were a sickening punch to the gut for the prince. He’d inflicted this exact torture on hundreds of humans throughout his lifetime, without a second thought. He felt even worse when he thought of Tanya, and how he had swallowed her in a terrible betrayal, leaving her to marinate in his belly for hours. Really, he deserved to suffer. Yet, she had the kindness in her heart to forgive him. His appreciation for her blossomed all the more. 

Eren held Ronny while they were in the giant’s belly, doing what she could to calm him down. He was especially spooked when King Richard spoke. The reverberation of his bass voice caused the pathetic little prince to cower and cover his ears. Eren placed her hand over him protectively. She might not be so kind to him when he was big, but when he looked so frightened and small she couldn’t help but take pity on him. 

A few hours passed, with Ronny barely holding himself together. The time came for Eren to leave, as the giant king swallowed down the rope to let her out. “Sorry, Ronny. I must go,” she said, lowering him down into the acid pool. She released him into the foul waters and grasped the rope with both hands. 

“Don’t leave me in here alone,” Ronny squeaked with alarm. “Please!” 

“Be brave, Prince Ronny. And good luck.” Eren was hauled up, until she squished through the entrance to the stomach and disappeared from sight. Ronny floundered in the gastric soup, his heart sinking like a stone. The giant shifted his body, producing choppy waves of acid that nearly pulled the prince under. 

Time crawled by at an agonizingly sluggish pace. Ronny grew fatigued from swimming and straining to stay afloat in the acid, constantly swirled by restless muscular contractions. He was too tiny for his feet to touch the bottom, and the stomach lining was too slick to provide any stability. He was already afraid, but the long, exhausting hours inside the reeking, throbbing sack wore him down to a nub.  

A new, insidious fear wormed its way into his psyche. What if Milton was wrong about the shrinking potion? What if the effects were permanent, or lasted days? He might never grow back. He might die in here. He was trembling not only from fear, but from weakness, as he labored to stay afloat in the circular current. Drowning, a demeaning and awful death, was a real possibility. 

As his energy reserves dwindled, Ronny observed that the digested food was draining out of the stomach, through another exit. He mustered all his remaining strength to swim away, but he got caught in the current and dragged down. With a nasty slorp, he was sucked down with the rest of the giant’s processed dinner into his intestines. 

Ronny cursed venomously as he tumbled through a large tube and plopped into a fold of intestinal lining. He sprang to his feet, only to slip in bile and smack back down into a forest of wiggly tubular protrusions. He broke out into incoherent screams and sobs. He was at his limit. He didn’t care about anything anymore, except getting out. 

“Tanya! I’m sorry Tanya!” he howled, tearing at his scalp. He felt like a total failure. This was his punishment, if he died a miserable death in this gross pit. His sanity was slipping. The rancid, harsh fumes were making him delirious. His throat was dry and hoarse from screaming so much. He believed his time was up; something had gone terribly wrong. The magic potion had failed him, cursed him, and he was going to die in here, wallowing in viscous fluids. 

He pounded the folds of flesh and villi with his fists in pure agony. “Tanya!” he repeated in a garbled sob. That was the worst part of the whole debacle. He wouldn’t be able to save her. He had failed to protect her. 

He recoiled into a ball as King Richard spoke in a blaring voice that vibrated the hollow space. The king was belittling him, mocking him for his insignificance, as if he knew exactly where Ronny was. He was sure of it. “LEON, I’M DONE WITH OFFICIAL BUSINESS FOR THE DAY. I WISH TO RETIRE TO BED WITH MY DARLING TANYA.” His purr of pleasure was as loud as a rockslide. 

“NOOO!” Ronny caterwauled to nobody. He was helpless to stop him. He could only imagine the filthy giant fingering her, rolling her nude body in his hands as he leered lecherously down at her. How scared she must be, her tiny face frozen in a look of horror. Ronny punched and kicked the rippling, dripping walls with frustration. “STOP IT!” 

A hot spark snapped inside him. Ronny bristled, placing his hand over his gut. The burning spread outward, tingling with pins and needles in an increasingly intense sensation. His bones popped and crunched like twigs and leaves underfoot. He grunted as his limbs contorted and his innards spasmed with a gush of pain. All at once, his body exploded outwards. He felt tremendous pressure on all sides as he outgrew the loop of intestines he was ensconced in, until with a sickening pop he burst through. He shredded the giant’s organs in an instant, tearing and ripping with extraordinary momentum. A cage of ribs momentarily constrained him before it shattered to pieces, spilling guts in all directions. 

Ronny suddenly found himself back to his normal size, in clean, fresh, cold air, thoroughly drenched in blood. He blinked and looked down. He was sitting on a couch in his father’s study, surrounded by strips of raw meat, loose chunks resembling ground beef, blood, and broken bones. The king’s body had bloomed like a carmine flower, leaving no corner of the room untouched by sanguine splatter. His face was unrecognizable, as was most of his form. A severed limb, still mostly intact below the shoulder, lay on the couch with the hand facing up. Tanya sat in the limp hand, dumbfounded. 

“Tanya! Tanya, are you alright?” Ronny cried, reaching for her with lurid crimson hands. She shrieked, stopping the prince in his tracks. Leon, who was standing nearby, scooped Tanya up defensively. 

“Oh my,” the advisor choked incredulously. “Prince Ronny? Is that you?” The disheveled prince was hardly discernible under the excessive layers of gore. 

“Y-yeah...” Ronny murmured. He flinched as a menacing figure approached him in his peripheral vision. He turned to face the threat, only to witness Ajax lower himself to his knee in a bow. 

“My king,” the guard stated.  

Ronny’s eyelids fluttered with confusion. “Right. I am king now.” 

“Yes...” Leon agreed. “Um... Your Majesty... why don’t we get you cleaned up? And then we can... discuss things...” He gulped, scarcely maintaining his composure. 

Ronny nodded. “Yes. Yes. That sounds like a good idea.” He shifted, wincing at the squelch of fluids beneath him. He gave Leon a very intense look. “Things are going to change a lot around here.” 

“Indeed.” 

“I don’t know the first thing about being king, or ruling a kingdom, as my father never trusted me enough to teach me properly. But you do, Leon. I’m going to need your help.” He held out a sopping wet hand. “Please.” 

Leon hesitated. His eyes scanned King Richard’s obliterated corpse with fresh understanding as he grasped what Ronny had done. He looked back up at the prince with hardened determination and firmly clenched the new king’s hand, christening his own hand in the blood of the old order. “Of course.” 

Final Chapter/ Epilogue

Tag List: @tinycoded360 @yummynomms @maybeiamdownbad

[benjaminthewolfnsfw]

On Voideyes' Pile (Vore Story)

Y'all haven't seen me in a hot minute, haven't you? I'm most likely not returning, because college is coming up, but I am here to celebrate with you on this special day! Voideyes, Dove, and Kittypet are all from this really obscure Warrior Cats fangame called Warriors: Road to Immortality.

Kittypet is also technically the reader, because they're the placeholder for the player's custom cat protagonist character.

WARNING: EXTREMELY GRAPHIC UNWILLING DIGESTION! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

Kittypet suffered in their sleep.

     Yes, the exact same Kittypet who had joined ThunderClan as an apprentice many moons ago. They were well past graduation, now.

     Any cat that hadn’t stolen essentially the entire stash of Catnip within their Medicine Cat’s den and proceeded to ram their head against the ground for ten minutes straight, claiming that: “The worms! The worms are gonna suffocate!”

     …………….

      -would expect to wake up exactly where they had fallen asleep. And this was true for Kittypet, too. 

     Well, sort of. They had fallen asleep in their nest in ThunderClan’s camp. And while they most certainly awoke in ThunderClan’s camp, they did not do so in their nest.

     They let out a…I suppose you could call it a yawn, if a yawn were to include a sharp gargling from the back of the throat and a few seconds of vicious full-body jerking. They then spent a solid thirty seconds locked in a thousand-yard glassy-eyed stare, limbs extended as if they were about to take off towards StarClan. And my oh my, if Kittypet didn’t WISH they could join StarClan for the totality of their existence in this plane.    

     Eventually, Kittypet’s sore, cramping lungs desperately forced an exhale, though a following inhale seemed downright impossible to permit. And that was when the dull, yet acute and radiating ache localized at the surface of their abdominal region was able to send its pain signals to their brain.

     Kittypet instinctively yowled before becoming meticulously aware of each and every single nerve ending at the site of their current agony. 

     Their head swiveled downwards, as if all of their muscles had vanished a moment prior, their eyes thus making contact with rock. Combining this current information with what they longed they couldn’t feel, Kittypet was able to deduce they were lying belly-down upon a sharp, yet jagged tip of the rock.

     And then their brain processed what vast, yet formerly indecipherable smudges of detail they had previously perceived, before the rock was a part of their knowledge. A gag was heaved out of their currently shriveled lungs.

     They looked up. Then left. Then right. Then left. Then center. Then down. Then up. Then center. Then left.

     Indeed. Their worst fears had been confirmed. 

     Aside from this, they only needed their periphery to discern what was directly at their sides. Right now, though, Kittypet needed to finish their thoughts about ThunderClan’s camp. Well…it’d be closer to the truth to say “ThunderClan” ’s camp, but at this point did that really make a difference?

     The Warrior’s den to the left still had a giant rock on top of it. Kittypet wondered where the remaining Warriors slept. Or, before even that, where they even were in the first place. And…who they even were…in the first place.

     Kittypet turned their head right, towards the nursery, and was instantaneously struck with the same exact combination of terror, mourning, and disbelief they had experienced upon their first encounter with that nursery. Taking shortened, labored, miniscule breaths, one after the other, in through their nose, Kittypet was still able to recognize the Kits’ scents. 

     Including Dawnkit’s.

     Kittypet wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved that she hadn’t been killed again, or sorrowful that she was still here.

    As well, in attempting to take in the Kits’ scents, Kittypet had also taken in the scents of the two cats lying next to them. Or, rather, the two prey-sized corpses of the two cats lying beside their, as they now understood, equally shrunken form. The exact same cats as last time, no doubt. Kittypet didn’t even need to wonder how they hadn’t become crow-food yet.

     The scent that Briarstar on the left exuded indicated that…whoever he actually is…or… was…in this…place…he had died in his sleep. Which checked out considering how old, and…decrepit, and…senile wasn’t the best word, but it wasn’t like Kittypet was in any position to think of a better one.

     Nettleclaw on the right, on the other paw, positively exuded shock. Whatever had managed to overpower her…Kittypet could only think of a few candidates, and one of them was Rabbitclaw. Kittypet shuddered. They wouldn’t put it past the Clawmaster. That cat was made of only two things: Wind, and ego.

     At this point, having become fully aware of their situation, Kittypet could’ve focused all of their energy into getting themself off the rock.

     Could’ve.

     Had the shadow of a small bird not descended over the grass lying in front of them, sending them into the panic response of immobility.

     And as if the situation wasn’t soul-suckingly horrid enough as it was, it got worse.

     Way. Way. Way. Way. Way. Worse.

     Kittypet lamented over the fact they couldn’t scream the cat’s name, though for what possible reason, not even they knew.

     The ghostly pure white cat, eyes void and mouth null, calmly strode towards Kittypet, who remained painstakingly aware of each pawstep. Whilst a constant pulse of anguish seared deep into Kittypet’s abdomen, the horrid, fur-spiking cat progressively stole more and more space within their field of view.

     As if able to sense their languishing vocal chords, incapable of overcoming their imposed choking strains, Voideyes spoke up themself. 

     “Hush your suffering, my little prey. Everything will be over soon.”

     Before Kittypet could even begin the process of gathering together all the mental resources they would need to process those words, Voideyes’ head tilted downwards, moving forwards soon thereafter, at an ominous, gradual pace.

     Only able to recognize on an implicit level the question of how Voideyes could possibly eat prey without a mouth, their question was instantaneously struck down once the spectral cat’s skin where their mouth should be made contact with their form.

     Phasing through the barrier as if it had never existed at all, Kittypet was promptly graced with the strangling presence of darkness. It was quite the good thing then, that they, as all cats do, possessed night vision.

     Rather than sight, however, the very first sense which granted Kittypet information was smell. They recognized those scents. All of them. Swirling about within the dampened midsts of Voideyes’ maw, were many fellow ThunderClan cats. Ravenwing. Amberflame. Galeflower. Kestreleye. 

     …..

     Uncertainty gouged into Kittypet’s mind. 

     They intook one great final whiff. 

     Tempestcloud?

       That was when Voideyes’ tongue made its move, in order to engulf, fully, Kittypet’s form within their maw. Kittypet spasmed as the piercing, rigid papillae upon the warm, slimy muscle compressed against their skin… the result of which granted Voideyes just enough time to slip the shuddering body inside. All the way inside.

     Now, it was just Kittypet, and Voideyes’ pointed, glistening fangs. Far sharper, shinier and, perhaps most bloodcurdling-ly of all, numerous, than a cat’s fangs ever should be. Pitch black gums lay close beyond, as the tongue began to pull itself backwards.

        Kittypet’s head brushed against Voideyes’ plump, dangling uvula, before their eyes, dragged by nothing but desire to comprehend, bore deep into their shadowy pharynx. Kittypet strained to make out where their mouth ended and their esophagus began. Yet, any attempt to reach a satisfying conclusion was curbed into dismal futility the moment wings flapping leisurely gave way to gentle cooing.

     Kittypet’s heart ceased, their breathing halting mid-exhale. And then, for reasons they had long stopped trying to question, they found their body was wholly flipped around, gazing vacantly towards the front of the maw.

     Through a steeled duration of stillness, Kittypet awaited another coo.They knew for a fact it was coming. First, however, they were met with the decidedly different sensation of squelching esophageal muscles squeezing around their legs and tail, dragging them downwards into the slick tube. No more than a second later, Dove peered her head inside.

     Kittypet’s soul collapsed. Voideyes’ three words screeched throughout the collectivity of their being. The squishy echoes of another gulp rang boisterously around the maw, pulling their lower body into the esophagus. The words boomed louder and louder within Kittypet’s eardrums, forcing their heart rate to imitate. Dove merely cocked her head and took a singular step forwards.

     At this point, Kittypet’s innate survival reflexes mandated an override of their fear response to remain still and silent, physically forcing them to finish exhaling, before gagging in a breath of oxygen. There was no feasible way they could pay any possible mind to Dove’s piqued interest in this sudden physical change. She took two steps forwards, nearly bringing her being’s entirety inside with them.

     “GETAWAYGETAWAYGETAWAYGETAWAYGETAWAYGETAWAYGETAWAY!”

     Kittypet wailed in their mind, with a terror for their life far eclipsing the one Voideyes was currently evoking.

     Dove, seemingly also able to read minds, was encouraged only to walk further in. Her full body was now inside Voideyes’ maw, whilst Kittypet’s chest became entrapped by the ghost cat’s esophagus.

     “Cooooo-ooooooooo?” Dove trilled from her own throat as she only drew closer. 

     Voideyes swallowed one more time, leaving only Kittypet’s head and arms outside their esophagus. And then, something shattered inside Kittypet.

      “SAVE ME, DOVE!”

     “C-Cooo?”

     Dove leaned in towards Kittypet, her large, dark, beady eyes protruding from each side of her head. She seemed to seep directly into Kittypet, her gaze alone severing the connection between their body and mind, before her claws slid smoothly around their heart.

     *Click*

     Kittypet’s consciousness returned just in time to observe Voideyes’ gnashed fangs tightening the pressure between their hold, as if fully intent on fusing together.

     The last thing Kittypet could sense was a horrified: “OOOOOOO-COOOOOOOO!” before their head and arms slipped beyond Voideyes’ pharynx.

     With each consecutive wave of peristalsis, Kittypet felt their own throat closing up even tighter. So much blood pounded within the veins between the swollen walls, that the resulting heat may as well be sealing it shut.

     Drenched in totality by the combination of saliva flowing down from the maw, and mucus lubricating the esophageal lumen, Kittypet’s sopped fur clung stiff to their skin, drawing the muscular tube’s unique tactile perceptions even closer to their being.

     The fierce, stinging fever in their forehead brought to their ears a consistent, overpowering thump, categorically overriding any possible attempt to aurally detect anything beyond.

     Kittypet’s time could only draw out for so long, however, and the moment they could sense that their tail, which had previously been brushing against the esophageal walls, was now against nothing but air, their brain’s grip on their own consciousness staggered furthur. 

     With their sanity crackling like a hollow twig beneath a paw, the rest of Kittypet’s body inevitably dove beyond the lower esophageal sphincter as well. A moment of freefalling ensued. And then, Kittypet ruptured.

     Sizzling shadowy waters fervently engulfed Kittypet’s form as their twitching body remained just buoyant enough to avoid drowning. Having sensed the arrival of a meal, the gastric pits in Voideyes’ stomach walls began secreting the enzymes they needed to digest it. 

     As protein “scales” comprised the outer layers of their fur shaft cuticles, with layers of proteins, (as well as lipids), lying in-between, proteases enclosed upon Kittypet’s body. Hydrochloric acid proceeded with activating pepsinogen into pepsin, and denaturation, (through ionization), of different protein structure levels commenced, each of which subsequently lost their functions.

     The keratinocyte proteins upon Kittypet’s epidermis were similarly denatured by the pepsin, searing away at their fur follicles as they permeated into the dermis, simultaneously causing nociceptors in the dermis, (signaled first by their epidermal free nerve endings), to release neurotransmitters into the central nervous system. All the way up to the brain.

     Kittypet stopped thinking. 

     Consciously, semi-consciously, and unconsciously. 

     The electrical signals within their brain fuzzed around for a while, before fizzling out of existence entirely. 

     From there, the gastric acid burned into the hypodermis, breaching Kittypet’s veins and arteries, and dying the deathly waters around them a rich, vicious red. The red blood cells, white blood cells, plasma, and platelets, swirled around amongst the pepsin in cellular disorientation, inevitably succumbing to the gastric enzymes’ denaturation.  

     As the stomach was unable to, (fully), break down lipids, the digestion of the fats within their subcutaneous tissues was a job reserved, instead, to the duodenum of the small intestine.

     Regardless, being a liquid, the gastric acid merely seeped around the lipids, dissolving into Kittypet’s muscles, (their skeletal muscles, specifically), that which are known for their compositions of proteins. The connective tissues of the epimysium, followed by the endomysium and perimysium, each had their collagen fibers ravaged to unrecognizability as the pepsin continued their work. Now, they had access to Kittypet’s smooth and cardiac muscles.

     Soon enough, all that remained of Kittypet was their skeleton. Sloshing around within the lifeless cellular chyme of their own remains.

     Said chyme was thus churned, by the very same merciless stomach, through the pylorus, where the process of digestion would finish, via amylase and lipase from the pancreas. 

      Meanwhile, however, Kittypet’s indigestible bones began to render themselves to transparency. They faded out from the ghastly waters, and into external reality. Far from floating aimlessly, within the harrowing, lethal depths of Voideyes' stomach, the bones appeared instead, to rearrange their spatial structure, all by themselves, onto a nest within ThunderClan’s camp.

[benjaminthewolf]

Living Up To Your Name (Vore Story)

Welp, this was one of the most difficult vore story projects I've ever tackled.

Mainly because of the battle scenes. Yeah, needless to say, battle scenes are hard to write.

But this is the Sky/landers franchise we're talking about. Fighting is kinda, ya know, their whole thing, so-

Word count: 7,623

WARNING: INJURY, SWEARING

     Astroblast gradually shifted his head around on his pillow as he let a muted, scratchy half-murmur half-gnarly-grumble vibrate itself around in his voice box for a few seconds. Reluctantly rolling his crystal body over on his bed so he was now lying upon his front, heaving out a mildly despondent sigh as he did, the light elemental Supercharger soon after attempted to let his mind drift away from hazy consciousness (just as he had done all throughout the same night, so be it), and enter eventually into a state of tranquil, steady slumber, so he could finally get some good rest for next morni- 

     *FWOOMP*

   “ASTROBLAST!”

      Automatically and instantly lurching upwards as an instinctively hysteric “AAAAH!” burst out of the crystalline man’s throat, Astroblast urgently shot open his eyes, and swung his head around his room so he could decisively figure out what was going on. As soon as he did this, he immediately realized two things.

     Firstly, and most importantly, the one, or actually, the ones who had screeched out his name, and caused this sheer panic as a result, was the three of Fiesta’s amigos. Despite all being tiny skeletons, they were currently breathing in and out very rapidly, whilst leaning against the frame of the door they had just broken open in tremendous exhaustion. 

     Secondly, Astroblast was able to figure out from the height and angle he was looking at them from that he had apparently activated subconsciously his anti-gravity floating ability from the shock, and was now hovering approximately two feet over his bed, still positioned with his front towards the ground, as a result. Also due to this, his white and gold-trimmed pajama shirt with “I Come In Peace” printed in its center was now visible to the trio. His pajama shorts were similarly visible, and possessed the same color palette. 

     In the time it had taken him to comprehend this second fact, however, one of the amigos, coincidentally, the one in the middle, aptly known as “Dos” had finally managed to catch his breath enough to speak up to Astroblast once more.

“WEDON’TKNOWHOWATALLBUTCOUNTMONEYBONECAPTUREDFIESTAANDHEALSOTOOKTHECRYPTCRUSHERANDFIESTASUMMONEDUSAFTERDISTRACTINGCOUNTMONEYBONESOWECOULDGETTHECRYPTCRUSHEROUTOFTHERESOWECOULDGETHELPANDNOWTHEY’REUPPASTSKYHIGHLANDSANDYOURSUNRUNNERISTHEONLYONETHATCANGOUPTHERECAUSEITSALIGHTELEMENTAREAANDTHESUNRUNNER’SALIGHTELEMENTVEHICLEANDWENEEDTOGOUPTHERERIGHTNOWORELSE-”

     “WAIT-WAIT-WAIT-WAIT-WAIT-WAIT! SLOW DOWN!” Astroblast finally brought the incoherent ramble to a halt. “ALL I HEARD WAS ‘FIESTA’ AND ‘COUNT MONEYBONE’! WHAT HAPPENED, EXACTLY?”

     Realizing he was talking way too fast for Astroblast to keep up in the following moments, Dos promptly shut himself up, slapping his two skeletal hands over his mouth with an “E-” noise, before Uno, the amigo to his left, ultimately decided to speak up instead.

     “Uh…it's kind of a long story, so maybe it would be best if we told you while you’re getting out of your pajamas and into your space suit, and…grabbing your laser gun and all that.” he relayed to the Supercharger far more comprehensively.

      Taking a few moments to reorient himself after this proposal, and all of the utterly unhinged, non-stop madness that had come before it, Astroblast sighed out a far more calm and collected breath of “Okay…”, before giving a firm nod back to the amigos. Proceeding to float downwards towards the floor, maneuvering himself into an upright position as he did, Astroblast eventually stuck a landing in front of his closet, whilst allowing all of the initial shock of the moment to gradually flow out from his being. As he was reaching for the door handle, however, something suddenly perked up in his brain. 

     “Uhhh…do you think you guys can…” he awkwardly attempted to ask the little skeletons. “...turn around?”

     “What-OH! YEAH YEAH YEAH, OF COURSE!” Uno responded in sudden comprehension of what, exactly, the crystal man meant, before instantly swiveling around. Dos and Tres would resultantly follow shortly after, in a shared sense of mutual, implicit understanding.

     “So yeah, since we’re all magically linked with Fiesta, he kinda just filled us in on all the details mentally when he summoned us.” Tres began to explain. “So here’s basically what happened…”

****

     “OI!”

     “OI!”

     “OI!”

     “WAKE THE FUCK UP YOU BONEHEAD!

"...Heh. Literally..." 

"BUT GET YOUR BONY PELVIC ASS UP OFF THE FLOOR! I SAID OI!”

     “...”

     “ARE YOU IGNORING ME ON PURPOSE OR ARE YOU REALLY JUST THIS INEPT?”

“WAKE UP!”

     “.......................”

     “Alright, that’s it.”

     “¡DESPERTARSE, TÚ ESTÚPIDO CULERO HIJO DE LA FREGADA! ¡VETE A LA CHINGADA Y CHINGA TU MADRE! ¿TÚ OÍR, IDIOTA? ¡TU MAMA!”

     “*GYAAAAAAAAAAH-* ¡MI MADRE NO TIENE ABSOLUTAMENTE NADA QUE VER CON LO QUE ESTÁ PASANDO AQUÍ!-”

     “¡Buenos días, motherfucker!”

     “MONEYBONE!”

     “THAT’S COUNT MONEYBONE, TO YOU, FIESTA!”

     And that was when Fiesta boiled over. 

     The undead Supercharger skeleton needed nothing in the way of rational thought. He needed nothing in the way of sight or sound. And he most certainly needed nothing in the way of consciously harnessing his strength in order to respond to Count Moneybone with his fist.

     A great cracking noise could be heard resonating around the two rival skeletons’ current vicinity. Seconds after, with the moment of fury gone by, Fiesta could critically think once again. Thus, he was given no other choice but to examine all the details pertaining to both himself and his most hated enemy the second his eyesight cleared up; as well as to their surroundings, a little later. With all of this new information at hand, then, Fiesta was rendered both silent and imobile rather quickly, as he subsequently connected all the dots.

     “...well, I guess I can’t blame you for trying…” Count Moneybone spoke up with his signature tone of royal, arrogant calmness. “...but I think you’ll find that trying to…oh, what was the phrase again? Oh yeah! ‘Slug me in the face’! Is kind of a lot harder when you’re THE SIZE OF AN AVERAGE SEWER RAT! BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAH! Ahhhh~” 

     Fiesta only remained reticent and unmoving, as reality at last began to settle. 

     The indisputable fact of the matter, in isolation from everything else, was that Count Moneybone had somehow managed to capture him. That meant that right now, his goal was to learn as much as he could about the situation, in order to evaluate all of his options, and formulate a plan for escape. Moments after this had settled in his mind, Count Moneybone resumed his villainous chuckling. 

     “AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! OH YOU ACTUALLY THOUGHT YOU HAD A CHANCE, DIDN’T YOU?! OH, HOW RICH IS THAT, NOW? HOW RICH IS THAT? ….WELL CERTAINLY NOT AS RICH AS ME! HAHAHA! …OR AS SMART! HEH!”

     That was when Fiesta realized that he knew exactly how to get Count Moneybone to reveal his hand.

     “...aaaaaanyway!” the former ruler of the underworld abruptly shifted the subject. “WELCOME TO BEYOND SKYHIGHLANDS, FIESTA! THE BRIGHT, CLOUDY, BASICALLY UNREACHABLE REGION WHERE SKYLANDS GIVES WAY TO THE VACUUM OF SPACE!” he hollered out in theatrical glamor, gesturing out and towards the landscape before them.

     As Fiesta had naturally expected, based on his skeletal rival’s description, he observed that Count Moneybone was standing upon a giant, glistening platform of clouds. Aside from the ones on the ground, the light blue, shimmering sky around them was also lightly decorated with the occasional pure white wisp.

     At this point, since Fiesta was still yet to speak another word, he appeared to be dumbstruck and muted from realization to Count Moneybone, as he took a few flamboyant strides forth. In reality, however, the shrunken skeleton was merely prepping his plan for probing, while continuing to note his surroundings.

     “Oh, and don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little gimmick…” Count Moneybone cockily sneered before calling out a cheeky: “TA-DA!” and revealing to Fiesta the Crypt Crusher, simply by turning himself around; the vehicle parked about five meters from where he stood.

     “Oh, yes! Brought your stupid little funeral procession car all the way up here, too! HAH! I’m sure you know what that means, dont’ch’ya!”

     Fiesta spontaneously let out a stifled gasp, as the magical light blue eyes within his bony sockets widened to at least twice their size.

     “EHEHEHEHEHE, YES! I suppose you could say that I’M in the driver’s seat, now!” Count Moneyone immediately quipped in a sense of satisfactory superiority. “...except THIS driver’s seat contains a rift engine!”

     As Count Moneybone wasn’t currently looking at him, Fiesta couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the thoroughly self-absorbed former underworld ruler, who had all but seemed to have forgotten that engines aren’t located in the driver’s seat. Nonetheless, this news was still very good, as the presence of the Crypt Crusher meant he had a surefire option of escape up here with him.

     “If I can just summon my Amigos while making sure Moneybone is distracted, they can use its rift engine to get back to the academy in no time! But since this is a light elemental zone and there’s only one person at the academy who has a light element vehicle, they’re going to have to find Astroblast as soon as possible!”

     Fiesta momentarily glanced up to examine Count Moneybone’s current expression. He appeared to be staring down at him in victorious bliss, most likely still assuming that his tiny rival wasn’t speaking due to contemplating defeat. 

     “Okay, I’ll start off by asking him how we got here, and move into how he got, specifically, into a light elemental zone in due time. But the most important thing is that I have to keep him talking for just about as long as I can!”

     “Aww…what’s wrong, wittle guy? Is wour defweet just two much fwor you two handwleeeeeee?” Count Moneybone joyously mocked the still silent, tiny Fiesta.

     “Alright, Moneybone…”  Fiesta suddenly spoke up rather calmly, much to Count Moneybone’s sheer and sudden, though attemptedly suppressed, shock. “If you think you’re so high and mighty, and smart, since you’ve apparently already ensured your total victory over me, why don’t you just go ahead and answer this one, simple question for me? Hmm?” he continued on in an outwardly apparent state of regulated fury. “HOW IN THE NAME OF THE ANCIENTS DID YOU EVEN GET US UP HERE IN THE FIRST PLACE?” 

     A thoroughly uncomfortable pause proceeded to follow, one in which Count Moneybone’s skeletal brow steadily furrowed deeper towards his similarly narrowing eye sockets.

     “Oooooooooohhhhhhhh, I see!” he eventually spat out through grinding teeth. “So YOU think you can just wake up in the clutch of COUNT Moneybone, see that you’ve been bested by his technological, and magical capabilities, and then go on to insult him like a petulant little child, hmm? Well I’ll have you know that I’ve been able to magically teleport objects for YEARS! So what makes you think I can’t develop my skills to where conscious beings can be affected too, huh, Fiesta?”

      In the midst of Count Moneybone’s rant, Fiesta had wasted absolutely zero time summoning his amigos, telepathically informing them on the situation as they appeared, before the three miniature skeletons collectively understood that they needed to take the Crypt Crusher back to the Academy, scampering over to the nearby vehicle in heightened urgency, as a result.

     “‘What makes you think I can’t develop my skills to where conscious beings can be affected too, huh, Fiesta?’” Fiesta quoted back to Count Moneybone in rising spite. “Oh, I don’t know…maybe the fact that…you’re an undeniably incompetent piece of shit standing proudly at the peak of the Dunning-Kruger graph’s mount stupid! And the just as indisputable fact that you failed spectacularly at the one, singular, though might I add, EXTREMELY IMPORTANT, job that Kaos gave you back in Superchargers is WAY more than enough proof for me of that point!” 

      There would only be three exact seconds between those words hitting Count Moneybone’s metaphorical brain, and the result.

     “WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAT”??????????????????????????????????????????????????

     Count Moneybone violently, hysterically, viciously, barbarously, and dementedly screeched at the top of his metaphorical lungs in explosively unwavering, frothing fury as Fiesta only glared up into his eyes in purely staunch contempt. Casting a bit of a sidelong glance over at the Crypt Crusher as the Amigos revved it up and began to drive, Fiesta, as he knew it was best for him to maintain his current facial expression, internally smirked back at the arrogant Count screeching at him; and doing so in nothing but purified, genuine hate. 

****

     “Geez! Was he actually screaming that loud for that long?” Astroblast asked in slight disbelief as he continued to steer the Sun Runner upwards through Skylands’ stratosphere; the elongated, wispy white clouds swishing past the windshield in an instant up against the light blue background of the sky.

     “Ayyyyup!” Tres, huddled up with Uno and Dos upon the seat beside him, (resultantly sharing a seatbelt with them), promptly responded. “Good thing, too, or else we probably wouldn’t even be here in the first place!”

     “Well, I mean, having no windpipe does mean there aren’t really any consequences for doing something like that, so…” Uno added in soon after.

     “Yeah, that’s true, too.”

     “I wonder if they’ll still be screaming at each other when we get there!” Dos lightheartedly pondered with a chuckle.

     “Maybe! I dunno!” Tres giggled out in response.

     Astroblast internally heaved a pained sigh paired with a sharp eye roll. He understood that the amigos weren’t Skylanders in their own rights, and didn’t have nearly as much experience in these kinds of situations as he or Fiesta did…but even so, now was not the time for idle chatter, and Astroblast felt that they should know this. 

     “Well…” he eventually spoke up in an abruptly lowered and serious tone, which seemed to accomplish the intended effect of indirectly reminding them all that this was an urgent rescue mission, “There’s only one way to find out.” 

     Astroblast leaned forwards just slightly in the driver’s seat whilst significantly narrowing his eyes.

He knew based on his ship’s continual Rift Engine-aided velocity, and how far the area defined as being beyond Skyhighlands was from the academy, that the four of them were mere seconds away from arrival by now. It was extremely important, then, for him to properly time the Sun Runner’s deceleration, so that they wouldn’t find themselves breaching into space.

     Gently pressing down on the brake pedal, Astroblast could feel his ship slowing, at a smooth, yet still extremely G-Force intensive rate, causing the three Amigos to get viciously thrusted backwards into their seats.

     “OH-WHAAAAAAAH! OH THANK THE ANCIENTS THAT SEAT BELTS EXIST-WRUUUUUUUNGH!”

     Tres screeched out in palpable terror, as his bony body was given no choice but to lay there and soak in the impact.

     Astroblast opted to say nothing as his surroundings became progressively more discernible from the Sun Runner’s braking. Eventually, the ship slowed down to a stop, and the three Amigos were able to gradually pull themselves together.

     “*Bluuuuuurgh*...uh…we’re ok….we’re ok, right guys? Ok yeah, we’re good.” Dos stammered out while shaking himself into reorientation. 

     Astroblast was once again tempted to speak up, if only to ask how the Amigos weren’t used to these levels of G-Forces after years of riding with Fiesta in the Crypt Crusher, but once again, ultimately decided to refrain. 

     “...alright, then…” he mumbled out, whilst driving the Sun Runner forth at a pace slow enough to scan the cloudy terrain below him. “...well now we need to find those two, and-”

     “OH, WELL LOOK DOWN AT YOU, FIESTA, THINKING YOU’RE SOOOOOOOOO SMART! OF COURSE LIGHT TRAPTANIUM CAN BE USED TO ENTER LIGHT ELEMENT ZONES! IF IT HAD TO BE A LIVING THING, THEN HOW WOULD YOUR OWN O’ SO PRECIOUS CRYPT CRUSHER GET INTO AN UNDEAD AREA WITHOUT AN UNDEAD DRIVER? HMMMMMM?”

     “...well, that was easy.”

     Immediately steering the Sun Runner in the direction of Count Moneybone’s screech, it wouldn’t be very long before Astroblast and the amigos spotted a royally dressed skeleton pricked up in a royally pissed-off stance, glaring down towards his furiously clenched fist, continuing his verbal barrage without any form of a break in between each sentence. 

     Astroblast proceeded to press a few buttons on the Sun Runner’s control panel in silence, whilst the Amigos collectively decided to hold their own. A soft wiring sound could be heard building up inside the Sun Runner, as upon the vehicle’s windshield, an electrical screen appeared to boot up. Utilizing this screen to zoom in significantly onto the back of Count Moneybone’s skull, Astroblast brought a golden target icon onto the screen, and maneuvered it onto the skull’s back’s middle. The amigos could only metaphorically hold their breath in preparation for what they figured out was going to happen next.

     *FWOOSH*!

The slim and precise, yet powerful laser blast shot itself across the sky, and towards the still hollering form of Count Moneybone just beyond.

     “SO IF YOU TELL ME ONE MORE TIME THAT I DON’T POSSESS THE SKILLS NECESSARY TO STEAL YOUR CRYPT CRUSHER WITHOUT SETTING OFF ANY ALARMS, I AM GOING TO-”

     Fiesta had indeed taken note of the Sun Runner in front of him by now, yet still knew he had to remain in character to ensure Count Moneybone stayed distracted. As a result, he was just barely able, from the very corners of his eye sockets, to watch the bright, red laser that was shot from the ship zooming closer to his far larger nemesis, who remained utterly oblivious to its presence.

     “AND DON’T YOU GO ON THINKING THAT JUST BECAUSE YOU HELPED DEFEAT ME ONCE, THAT AUTOMATICALLY MEANS I’M GOING TO GET BEATEN AGAIN!”

Count Moneybone spat onto the captive Fiesta.

“SO MAYBE-EEEEEEEEEEEE!”

     The following moments seemed to come by the pure, yet acquired force of instinct alone, as Count Moneybone’s pupils dilated.

     *SNAP*

   “AAAAA-HAH!”

     Instantly realizing the jig was up, Astroblast knew that he needed to get as close as he could to Count Moneybone, so he could better analyze his next moves.

     Count Moneybone, now donning his suit of robotic armor, gave a muted, sneering “Hmph.” as the Sun Runner pulled in closer to, though still far above, his position. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Astroblast Danger Guts himself! Oh, I’m so scared!”

     To this, Astroblast could only narrow his eyes before Dos stood up on the shotgun seat to clap back.

     “Hey! He’s got a sick-ass laser gun, and you don’t!”

     “*Pffft*! Like that stupid little ‘Special Class EZ 9,000 Laser Gun’ could do any more damage than a Chompy bite-”

     Not willing to waste any more time, Astroblast let loose a laser barrage on the skeleton, being sure to avoid his robotic suit’s left hand where Fiesta was still being clutched. 

     “-AAAAGH-A- GRRRRRRR-!” naturally rather ticked off from getting attacked whilst off guard, Count Moneybone snapped his bony fingers once more, summoning into the skies an entire air support squadron of his own robots; all of a model similar to that which he had used in his final battle during Swap Force.

     Thankfully for Astroblast, even though Fiesta’s Amigos weren’t as experienced working in the Sun Runner as they were the Crypt Crusher, they still knew their way around Supercharger vehicles’ supporting firearms, and were not hesitant to show it.

     “TAKE THIS YA STUPID…COPTER BOT THINGS!” Dos hollered out from the shotgun seat as he and his fellow Amigos gathered up around the Sun Runner’s supporting firearms control panel in front of the very same seat.

     With the Amigos covering him, Astroblast was free to focus on Count Moneybone, who was, no doubt, firing back at the Sun Runner in the form of purple plasma ball blasts from his robotic suit’s wrists. Weaving in and around to dodge the shots, Astroblast kept his gaze locked firmly onto the former ruler of the underworld; knowing once the snarky Skeleton’s robotic armor gave in, he would be rendered essentially helpless. Utilizing his Sun Runner’s Satellite Support move, the crystalline Supercharger could now see Count Moneybone’s health bar above his suit’s skull headpiece, whilst he continuously whittled it down with his lasers.

     “HEY! WOULD YOU STOP MOVING AROUND? IT’S WORKING ANNOYINGLY WELL!” Count Moneybone eventually roared up towards the still-firing Spacecraft and its occupants.

     The instant this remark hit Fiesta’s metaphorical ears, the captive Supercharger burst out into a prolonged bout of half-smirking half-chuckling at his former dictator and prolonged mutual rival.

     “You never actually learn anything, do you?”

     “SHUT UP, FIESTA, OR ELSE YOUR LOWER JAW’S GETTING RIPPED OFF, TOO!”

     “Hah! Oh really? Well I’d just LOVE to see you try!”

     Swiveling his robotic suit’s head around to meet with Fiesta’s challenging gaze, Count Moneybone let a growl progressively rise up in his metaphorical throat.

     “I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT I ONCE PUNCHED ONE OF THOSE STUPID TROLL SHREDNAUGHT MACHINES OUT OF COMMISSION WITH THIS SUIT! IN ONE PUNCH! SO UNLESS YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP RIGHT NOW, EXPECT TO SEE YOUR MANDIBLE ON MY TROPHY SHELF!”

     Fiesta held onto the resulting silence for only a single second “...what suit?”

     “WHAT-?”

    *FSHWINK-CLUNK*

    “.......................................................uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh……………………the one that’s now in pieces on the floor?”

     “Alright, Moneybone! Hand him over!” Astroblast called out to the defeated skeleton as he slowly lowered the Sun Runner towards ground level. “Everyone here knows what’s going to happen if you don’t, so why don’t you just save yourself all that trouble, and put Fiesta down NOW?”

     “...........................................uh……..” Count Moneybone blankly vocalized, his immobilized body shaking in bewilderment as his eyes betrayed the dawning of reality. “Uh-......umm…….I-” and then, just like that, the infamous former ruler of the underworld perked all the way back up. In stance, in demeanor, in everything. Just as if nothing had ever happened at all.

     “Oh, oh you may THINK you’ve already won, but what kind of evil genius doesn’t have a secret backup plan lying up their sleeve?”

     “What? What is he-no. No, I can’t just assume that he’s bluffing. I gotta stay on guard!” Astroblast internally deliberated as the metaphorical neurons within Count Moneybone’s skull began firing for the very first time in the entire encounter.

     “YES, YES! LIE THERE IN SHOCK, OH WON’T YOU? BECAUSE I JUST SO HAPPEN TO HAVE ONE MORE ADVANCED SECRET TECHNIQUE LEFT!” Count Moneybone continued, ending his sentence with a dramatic point into the air. “WITH A TWIST!”

     “Secret technique? Wait a second IF THIS GUY ACTUALLY THINKS HE’S GOING TO OUTRUN THE SUN RUNNER-”

     “YEET!”

      “WHA-?”

      “FIESTA!” the three Amigos shrieked out in rising horror.

     Immediately slamming the Sun Runner’s gas pedal, Astroblast lurched forwards in order to zip his way over to the newly airborne Fiesta, before his momentum was brought to a nauseating instantaneous halt a second later by a newly snapped-in barrage of Count Moneybone’s air support robots. Looking through a stray gap in the currently robot-smothered windshield, Astroblast could see Count Moneybone sprinting forwards upon the clouds, presumably in order to snatch up the now undoubtedly unconscious Fiesta before he could.

     “YOU THREE HOLD BACK THE ROBOTS! I’LL GO AFTER FIESTA!” Astroblast called out to the Amigos as the Sun Runner’s windshield flipped open. With the robots now having been launched into every conceivable direction, Astroblast snagged the swiftly-dwindling opportunity and lept out of the driver’s seat onto the ground.

     Sensing a faint: “WE’RE ON IT!” echoing from behind him, Astroblast’s astronaut boots pounded against the floor as he began gaining ground on Count Moneybone.

     “MONEYBONE!” Astroblast screeched out to the sprinting Skeleton before him.

     “HUH?” Count Moneybone heaved out before taking a glance over his shoulder.

     “HEY, WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT MY LASER GUN AGAIN?”

     “...uh…uh-oh.” 

     Promptly picking up the pace, not out of the need to make it to Fiesta first, but out of his own natural instinct for self-preservation, Count Moneybone let a terrified: “AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!” escape his metaphorical lungs as he continued scampering forth. Ultimately, however, his overflowing metaphorical synapses were eventually forced to admit that he couldn’t keep himself out of firing range forever. And that was when it finally came to him.

     “WELP, GUESS IT'S TIME TO MAKE USE OF THE CLASSIC VERSION!”

     Before Astroblast behind him even had a chance to react, much less attempt to figure out what that even meant, Count Moneybone had completely swiveled himself around.

     “RUN AWAY!” he began to wail as he hotfooted himself out of danger.

     “Ugh…” Astroblast groaned while rolling his eyes. 

     Placing his laser gun back at his side so he could have both hands ready to grab ahold of Fiesta, Astroblast continued sprinting forwards. 

     “There’s absolutely no way that Count Moneybone could’ve thrown Fiesta any significant distance. I’ve gotta be getting really close-THERE HE IS!”

     As he had suspected, Fiesta was out cold. Astroblast needed to look him over for injuries as soon as he possibly could, and to this end, as the shrunken Supercharger gained more and more room in his field of view, Astroblast timed a leap forwards with an outstretched arm.

      Successfully snagging the skeleton off the floor with his right hand as a result, Astroblast immediately began feeling over Fiesta’s body to make sure he wasn’t severely injured. He couldn’t care less that he’d landed on his chest from his leap. All that mattered was whether or not his friend was hurt.

     A swift preliminary check told Astroblast that Fiesta hadn’t gained any major breaks or fractures from getting thrown across the terrain. Importantly, that meant moving or handling him wasn’t going to exacerbate any injuries. 

     “...okay, now that Fiesta’s safe, I’ve gotta go back and help the Amigos clear out the rest of those robots, so we can finally get back to the Academy!” he internally noted to himself.

     Now, there was nothing left to do except get up off the floor and go. To this end, Astroblast attempted to pick up his left foot so he could place it onto the ground and push himself upwards. Only to feel his entire leg getting violently dragged back down to the floor, seemingly a millisecond later.

     “WHA-”

     “HAH! DID YOU REALLY THINK I WAS GOING TO GIVE UP THAT EASILY?”

     “MONEYBONE!”

     “THAT’S COUNT MONEYBONE TO YOU, ASTROBLAST DANGER GUTS!”

     Not only had the skeletal former dictator somehow slid himself back into the game, he seemed to be keeping a bewilderingly firm hold on Astroblast’s leg, preventing the Supercharger’s escape. It would only take one glance backwards, however, for this momentary mystery to be solved.

     “AHAHAHAH! NOW WHAT SORT OF EVIL GENIUS DO YOU THINK I WOULD BE, IF I DIDN’T HAVE MORE ROBOTIC ARMOR SUITS AT MY FINGERTIPS?”

     Astroblast strained to reach for his laser gun at his side, only for the full force of the suit’s left foot to come crashing down upon his forearm as he did. An overwhelming barrage of sharp, tingling pain signals shot straight to the crystal man’s brain before the numbness began to settle in.

     Count Moneybone only smirked as he immediately followed this up with a plasma ball blast straight  to the face. The superheated purple orb struck Astroblast square on the left cheek, creating a great, branching crack in the region, and causing him to give a pained: “GURNGH!” sound as a newfound burning sensation seared into the wound.

      “JUST HAND HIM OVER ALREADY! WE’RE NOT PLAYING THIS GAME OF KEEP AWAY ANY MORE!”

Count Moneybone spat out to the writhing Supercharger below.

“NOT LIKE YOU CAN REALLY DO ANYTHING ELSE ANYWAY! …EXCEPT DIE, OF COURSE!”

     Astroblast continued to breathe as he lay trapped within the armored skeleton’s grasp. Count Moneybone, then, continued awaiting an answer, positively reveling in the elation of his ultimate victory, as he did.

     “...no.” Astroblast finally broke the silence, in a pained and ragged, yet, to Count Moneybone, shockingly composed tone. “No. There’s still one more thing I can do.”

     Without skipping a single beat, Astroblast shakily moved his arm holding Fiesta in closer to his face, as he glared Count Moneybone straight down his undead pupils with narrowed eyes.

     And that was when he opened up his mouth.

     It seemed as though time itself had dilated around the two conscious beings to a point where it halted entirely. Yet with each passing nanosecond, Count Moneybone’s metaphorical neurons were able to continuously piece together exactly what Astroblast was doing. Still, he could only react as fast as his metaphorical brain could process his actions. Bound by his physical limitations within the shackles of time’s linear arrow, Count Moneybone was resigned to the role of a mere observer, whilst Astroblast’s own movements progressed.

     Astroblast knew very well that this might just be the only possible way he could protect his friend in this moment. That meant that no matter how Fiesta tasted, or how hard he was to swallow, Astroblast was going to get him down to safety. Down to a place where the shrunken skeleton was quite literally surrounded by his friend. Surrounded by the soft, malleable walls of his stomach, but also by the solid, firm, crystal exterior that acted as his skin.

     And so, Astroblast stretched open his crystal jaws, exposing the fleshy interior of his maw, as he extended his white-colored tongue, where Fiesta would be laid down. Upon the unconscious skeleton’s first contact with his fellow Supercharger’s taste buds, the sensory receptor cells zapped his flavor up to the crystal man’s brain; just as fast as time would allow. Though Astroblast’s brain was certainly not in a position to focus its resources on examining Fiesta’s taste, the signal was nonetheless received. Thus, as Fiesta was slid further along the warm, squishy surface of the tongue, his mildly spicy chili pepper flavor was dragged along with him. It certainly wasn’t anything Astroblast couldn’t handle, though. (Especially not after all his Enchilada Night experience). So, the light Supercharger merely shoved his skeletal friend deeper into his maw, as Count Moneybone stood by, imobile.

     Eventually, Fiesta was pushed deep enough into Astroblast’s maw to where his skull headpiece bumped against his white uvula. The plump, bulbous sack of flesh swung back and forth for a while from the strike, as Fiesta’s shoes entered into the maw at last. 

     Able to sense the entirety of his friend’s form tucked away within his maw, Astroblast swiftly snapped shut his jaws, enclosing Fiesta inside the warm, damp chamber, and causing a *click* noise to echo throughout it, not like Fiesta could even hear it in the first place. 

     Count Moneybone sure could, though, the detection of which only solidified in his mind the notion of what Astroblast was going to do. For even though his maw was sealed up and secluded, it could still very much be pried open with force. No, for Fiesta to be truly safe, he needed to go somewhere deeper.

     Raising up the back of his tongue, Astroblast could sense Fiesta’s skull headpiece scraping against the alveolar ridges upon his hard palate. Soon, gravity would draw the skeleton downwards and towards the crystal man’s pharynx. With sealed jaws leaving hardly any room for comfortability, Astroblast could sense both Fiesta’s skull headpiece as well as the felt on the back of his Mariachi suit brushing up against his soft palette, naturally resulting in a second contact with his uvula. Nonetheless, he understood deeply that right now, the most important objective was to keep his friend safe. Consequently, the crystal man’s white colored epiglottis covered up his laryngeal inlet, as his upper esophageal sphincter opened up. Fiesta’s head and skeletal upper body were thus slid past the laryngopharynx, and into the muscle region of the sphincter, as the downward pushing motion of swallowing squeezed the aforementioned sections of his body into the esophagus. 

     Astroblast didn’t waste any time completing the job, swallowing again in order to shove Fiesta’s  middle body into the muscular tube; once more for his legs, and one final time for his Mariachi shoes. His esophagus’ rhythmic, involuntary contractions of peristalsis could handle the rest.

     And that was when time came rushing back. 

     Astroblast heaved in a gasp of air the instant Fiesta’s shoes slid past his upper esophageal sphincter. Reality began to settle in as a newfound jolt of adrenaline hit his veins. One second later, he could sense that Count Moneybone’s hold around his leg had loosened, as he was still very much stunned. Yanking his leg out of the former dictator’s grasp and planting both his feet on the ground whilst forcing his arms up underneath him, Astroblast gathered all his energy into his left leg. 

     At last, the full force of an upwards striking kick smashed squarely into the skull headpiece of Count Moneybone’s robotic suit, completely cracking the thing open and exposing the fragile form of the skeleton’s head lying within. 

     Now back standing upright, Astroblast needed only to kick the skeletal villain straight in his delicate skull, exactly as he did with the headpiece; thus removing him from the battle entirely. 

     Count Moneybone’s eyes rolled into the back of his sockets as his jaws dropped open from the shock. Soon enough, the entire suit toppled over all at once, as the electronics within began shutting down; presumably due to the unconscious state of its user. 

     Now, there was nothing to do except run.

     His feet striking against the cloudy grounds of the light zone, Astroblast’s adrenaline continued to course through his being, before he spontaneously became vividly aware of Fiesta halfway down his esophagus.

     The continuous peristaltic motions within the organ guided the skeleton towards the stomach as Astroblast’s body continued running forwards. Astroblast himself, however, wasn’t sure how long he would be able to keep doing so, mainly considering his injuries. As a result, whilst Fiesta proceeded to move beyond his collarbone, he began to look around for some cover he could safely hide behind.

     Until he could find some, though, he needed to keep going.

     Suddenly able to sense his lower esophageal sphincter opening up as Fiesta was squeezed through, Astroblast finally spotted a cluster of boulders lying in the distance. Picking up his pace as Fiesta made a splashdown in his stomach, Astroblast could sense his fellow Supercharger’s form sloshing around within the non-acidic liquids of the organ. Eventually, however, the shrunken skeleton’s body settled down against the stomach wall, stabilizing him within the crystal man’s guts.

     As he approached the assemblage of boulders he spotted, Astroblast’s speed began to slow. Not only so he could bring himself to a stop when he reached his refuge, but also because he didn’t want Fiesta to get swirled around in his stomach anymore, which was already naturally churning to begin with.

     At last, Astroblast had slowed to a walking pace, as the boulders were now right in front of him. Continuing to pant strenuously as he set himself down against the largest of the bunch, Astroblast shakily placed his left hand over his middle, as an extra layer of protection for Fiesta within.

     The crystal Supercharger could faintly sense a gurgle emulating from the region, as his wholly exhausted, injured body began to slip into unconsciousness. 

****

     The very last thing Fiesta remembered before he struck the ground was, well, being hurtled through the air en route to the ground. Needless to say, then, the moment the shrunken skeleton began to regain consciousness, he did so with hardly any clues about where he could possibly be at this point. That was precisely why, the moment a low-pitched, echoing, rather boisterous rumble graced his metaphorical ears, Fiesta’s interest was roused. 

     Based on the rumble alone, Fiesta could presume that wherever he was right now was an enclosed space, as the echoes didn’t sound as if they had traveled very far. As his metaphorical brain continued to wake, he was soon able to sense that there were many softer noises of similar tones and timbre resonating in his surroundings as well. 

     Something about those noises sounded…familiar. As if he should be able to pinpoint exactly what they were. But as Fiesta knew he wasn’t exactly awake at the current moment, he wasn’t going to force himself to try and figure out their identity quite yet.

     Instead then, he merely examined this mystery chamber’s warmth which his body was now detecting, whilst his bony fingers felt their way over the wall, or obstruction, or whatever else, he was lying up against. The heat itself lay within that glorious sweet spot range that anyone would wish their bed’s blanket would bestow onto them at night. It was comforting, as though it was physically wrapped around him, ensconcing him within an ease of relaxation which could easily lull one to sleep. Yet it did not overheat his form, to where he began yearning for the release of cold air. 

     As for whatever he was lying up against, Fiesta’s first impressions as he glided his fingers over its surface, was that it was slick, damp, and smooth to the touch, yet malleable, and pillowy in its firmness. Fiesta was soon to realize after making these observations, that they were moving as well. Moving in the same way that one’s chest would move up and down as they breathed. Noticeable, yet subtle, rhythmic, and constant. But that wasn’t the only thing that was moving.

     Swishing faintly beneath his bony waist seemed to be some form of liquid pool. Judging from the fact he wasn’t feeling any pain, Fiesta presumed it to be similar to water in nature. Taking in a breath through his skeletal nose, he could sense no sour or bitter smells within his current surroundings, which only further supported that presumption. Exhaling from the same region, Fiesta was now feeling considerably more aware of both himself and his present confines. Thus, there remained nothing else left to do but open his eyes, and figure out once and for all where he was. 

     The moment Fiesta’s eyes flickered open, he was immediately graced by the color white. Once his eyes took the seconds they needed to refocus, the forms of the shifting white walls, and the clear-colored rippling pool below, became apparent. Taking a swift glance around, Fiesta could now be certain he was within an enclosed, secluded area; and that this area was, for now at least, safe. But…what was this area, exactly?

     Heaving in and out a sigh as he repositioned himself with his back against the wall, and his legs straight out in front of him, Fiesta lay down for a moment, before yet another question struck his being.

     Where was Astroblast right now?

     The last time he had seen his fellow Supercharger, he was piloting his Sun Runner near the ground, in a confrontation with Count Moneybone. Fiesta leaned forwards just slightly, and tilted his head downwards in thought. What had Astroblast done, exactly, after that? What had gone on between the crystal man and the Count after the latter had thrown him off into the distance? Fiesta glanced up and around the cushiony, heated chamber he was currently in. Had Astroblast put him in here? Still, where was here, exactly? Where was this white, compact, warm, damp, liquid-filled, squishy-

     Fiesta’s bony body froze up. 

     Yet another deep rumble reverberated across the churning walls, as Fiesta tilted his head upwards. Sure enough, there it was. All the confirmation he needed. He had no idea what the name for it was, but that was the lower esophageal sphincter he was currently staring at. Returning his head to its default position, Fiesta sat down in silence for a while, before eventually picking himself up and taking a couple of steps forwards whilst gazing at the liquid pool beneath him. Yet again, there it was, right below him under the waves. Though he could not identify it by name, he was gazing at the Pylorus, the sphincter leading from the stomach into the small intestine. Astroblast’s pylorus.

     Slowly returning to where he was laying before, and settling himself back down, waist deep within Astroblast’s stomach juices, the shrunken skeleton merely sat there in silence, save for the natural gurgling ambiance of the organ, and let himself take it all in.

     Eventually, however, his mind had finished doing such.

     Even if he was in Astroblast’s stomach, that was nothing to worry about! I mean, how else was his fellow Supercharger supposed to keep his shrunken form away from Count Moneybone’s unrelenting pursuit? It made complete sense! Plus, at the end of the day, what mattered most was that he was safe.

     And that was when a newfound sensation of mental clarity and calmness flooded over him. Only for it to completely dissipate just as fast as it had arrived. 

     He was most certainly safe right now. But could the same be said for Astroblast? Judging from the fact that he hadn’t heard the crystal man’s voice yet, and that he hadn’t felt the stomach’s spatial position change at all from any potential walking, running, or general moving around, Fiesta concluded his fellow Supercharger was most likely unconscious. 

    Still, that left one more very important question yet to be answered. Unconscious in safe surroundings, or unconscious in unsafe surroundings? Just as he hadn’t heard Astroblast’s voice since he woke up, he similarly hadn’t heard…well, anything else coming from outside the stomach. But this didn’t automatically mean his friend was out of danger. His years of experience as a Skylander had certainly taught him that well.

     At the very least, Fiesta did know that Astroblast was alive, and that his bodily functions were most likely all stable. He also knew Astroblast wasn’t being moved by anything or anyone. Yet, until he could get verbal confirmation from that man himself that he was okay, he would have no way of knowing for sure whether or not he really was.

     For now then, all he could do was wait, and stay vigilant about his observations. If anything about his current surroundings or situation changed, Fiesta would leap right on it. Leaning further back into Astroblast’s stomach walls, Fiesta gave a slight nod to himself, knowing what he needed to do.

****

     The very first things Astroblast could sense as his consciousness began to return were the sharp burning and throbbing sensations emulating from his damaged cheek; swiftly followed by the dull tinging in his injured arm. Still, he had regained a significant amount of energy since he had gone unconscious, and was therefore ready to get up and start moving again.

     But first, he needed to check on Fiesta. Upon his jittering eyelids opening wide enough, Astroblast glanced up, and upon seeing nothing of immediate danger, glanced down to his middle. He could sense that there was still pressure being exerted onto his stomach walls. That meant Fiesta was still in there. Judging from the fact he hadn’t heard anything besides gurgles coming from his guts since…well, since the tiny skeleton first arrived, Fiesta was also probably still unconscious. But he was still inside his stomach, and that meant he was safe.

     Now that he knew his friend was okay, Astroblast tilted his head back up, and glanced around his immediate field of view for a more thorough assessment of danger. After once again spotting nothing that could be of danger to him, he cautiously turned his head to the left, and then to the right. Still no danger. Even so, he wouldn’t know for sure whether or not he was safe until he looked behind himself.

     Cautiously placing both hands in front of him on the ground for support as he slowly shuffled onto his knees, Astroblast turned himself around in order to examine the region which was previously behind him. Nothing. That meant he was safe for now. Nonetheless-

     “Astroblast?”

     Reflexively leaping onto his feet in silence whilst yanking his laser gun from his side and aiming it in front of him, Astroblast swiftly came to his senses moments later.

     “Woah there, amigo! Calm down! It’s me!”

     Shifting his gaze back towards his midsection, Astroblast softly exhaled a relieved sigh.

     “Fiesta!”

     “Yep, that’s me!”

     “Are you okay?”

     “Most certainly! Are you?”

     “Well,” Astroblast hesitantly responded, not wanting his friend to get worried about him. “I took a couple hits back in a scuffle with Count Moneybone while trying to keep you away from him, but other than that, I’m fine.”

     “Well, you certainly succeeded in that, now, didn’t you?” Fiesta lightheartedly chuckled.

     “I…guess I did!” Astroblast replied with a giggle.

     “How did Moneybone even react to that?”

     “Shock.”

     “Eh, makes sense. Where are the Amigos?”

     “Count Moneybone summoned more air support bots, and I needed them to keep the robots back using the Sun Runner while I went after you on foot.” Astroblast explained. “Which basically means we’re just waiting for them to catch up at this point.”

    “I see. Guess it's time to start waiting, then!” Fiesta replied whilst placing his skeletal hands behind his head, laying one leg on top of the other, and leaning further back into Astroblast’s stomach walls.

     “Ummmm….” Astroblast awkwardly spoke upon this action, “...do you want to get out of there, or…”

     “Nah. It’s a lot safer in here, after all. And comfier. And warm. And…okay I think you get the picture.”

     “......alright, then! I’ll just…sit down, and start waiting, too.” Astroblast responded whilst carefully lowering himself to the floor, not wanting to disturb Fiesta within.

     Finally getting settled on the ground after a while, Astroblast proceeded to lay there in silence for a few seconds, before Fiesta perked up once again.

     “You know, I don’t know where you got this idea from, Astroblast, but however it happened, I guess it really does make you Astroblast Danger Guts!”

     To this, Astroblast could only give a stunned grin and a soft *pfft* sound as his uninjured cheek began blushing slightly. “...I-...I-I mean-” he struggled to form a response. “...well yeah! I… guess it really does! Heh…”

     Giving the walls he was presently snuggled up against a slight rub in solidarity, Fiesta then decided it would probably be best to stay quiet for a while.

     Thus, the two Superchargers rested silently in the midst of each other’s company, until the Sun Runner became visible over the horizon.

[malevorenhairylegs]

Unfortunately caught by a chef pred who definitely wanted me to be delicious

[lizard-shifter-noms]

Broken Bloodlines Epilogue

——————————————————————————

and were to the end! an epilogue to this chaos!

wellp, time to work on arc 3 now! (that means Hiatus for a while)

have fun reading!

and as always reblogs are appreciated! (Also ASK’s are open so feel free to bother me!)

AO3 Link for those that prefer the layout there; https://archiveofourown.org/works/44627188

——————————————————————————————————

During the following three days I would have nightmares every time I went to sleep, so I ditched napping at the lookout rock like I usually did in favor of helping people during the day.

In the night though…

It wasn't pretty, while I didn't toss or turn like most people would have simply because not moving while sleeping had been so ingrained in my time as a street Bastard.

Being plagued with reruns of people dying in front of me wasn't nice, even if I hadn't known anyone who died, well Oakley kinda died?

That was another constant piece in those nightly horrors,  Oakley burning to nothing but ash, again and again and again.

After the first one I woke up to see Fable had moved to sleep beside me instead of the loft.

Seeing that calmed me at least somewhat from the rising panic and let me calm down a little.

Knowing Fable was there helped remind me that the battle was over and there was no danger anymore,  and that my friends were okay now, well, most of them at least.

Barsen’s Funeral had been crowded, very much so,  It almost looked like the entire castle was there.

Maybe it had been the entire castle, I didn't know many people still.

That was also another part of my nightmares, finding the corpse of Barsen.

Sometimes the nightmares drifted from what had actually happened to a kaleidoscope of horrifying injuries, corpses and a blood stained  riverbank that fell into itself.

After The third day of that repeating horror I went to Oakley,  just wanting something that would at least not make my entire nervous system feel like it was about to explode.

That and I wanted to ask for a compass, I'd trade it somehow.

Though of course I didn't tell Fable about the compass, as far as he knew I was just going to get a sleeping aid that wasn't alcohol.

“So you want something to stop the nightmares? 

AND a gift for your brother who is going to leave in like two days?”

I sheepishly rubbed the back of my neck, yeah that might be asking a little much of him, but if he didn't want to help that was fine!

It was his stuff after all, and he had already helped a great deal with everything so he had no obligation to do more.

He whipped me gently on the head with some old scroll.

“Say that earlier next time! If he's leaving in two days you shoulda asked that sooner you dumbass! Now let's first see what I can give you for sleeping and then we can talk about the compass thing!”

I looked at him surprised, he really was an enigma, but at least he was still willing to help.

Even if I didn't quite always understand the things he criticized about what I did, and when I did them.

Though i could understand the time issue thing, i should have asked sooner but i didn't really get a chance to do so as Fable was around me a lot, and when he wasn't it was someone else.

In the end he gave me something that consisted of a thing called valerian root extract and was supposed to calm down.

After instructing me on how much to take and when we moved on to the compass gift idea.

“So what exactly do you want to do? Just give him a plain old compass?”

I shook my head at the winged man.

“I thought about painting it, like green with pastel blue flowers”

Oakley tilted his head in that Birdlike manner of his and then marched to one of the walls where three chests were set up next to each other.

“I'll look what i can find, as for you, you can go and get me an eighth of a kilo of copper, i'll need that later”

Copper? What? And what did he need that for?”

“Copper? Where am I supposed to get that?”

He just shrugged while halfway into one of the chests.

“Ask Rikaad, i bet the royal treasure chamber has at least some of it,  or go dig a mine and be really lucky”

I rolled my eyes at him even if he didn't see it.

“Alright ill as Rikaad, if he says no i'll ask for a shovel instead”

Finding Rikaad was easy, he was still busy with paperwork,  paperwork that at least had been somewhat sorted now.

After explaining what I needed it for he readily gave me what I needed, saying something along the lines of it being the least he could give me after I helped him so much.

I confusedly hid it in one of my pockets, at least I knew for a fact Rikaad would keep his mouth shut about the surprise.

Going back to Oakley I handed him the copper which was a little more than he needed but whatever.

Then he told me to look at the table and pick a design.

While I was gone he had apparently whipped up ten different designs for how to paint the compass.

From all the flowers depicted I only recognized two, a Blue Flax flower and Forget me not.

I ended up choosing the forget me not design, i liked the shape of them a little more.

Also, Forget me not as in forget me not after you leave.

Then he kicked me out and told me to come back after dinner time.

What the fuck.

Things really never made sense if Oakley was involved,  Then again he was some sort of Semi immortal magic wielder who just didn't use his powers very much.

Why the hell was I even questioning what he did anymore? 

Either it made sense or it didn't but that wasn't my problem.

The rest of the day was pleasantly boring. 

We helped rebuild a barnhouse that had gotten hit by a trebuchet and I had to heave a new support beam two stories up while in Ardua form.

I still didn't dare go around as a Giant simply because I knew that would scare a lot of people.

Fable was also there and helped,  by making more of those light bubbles so we could work on the roof even as the sunlight didn't quite reach that side of the barn.

That of course derailed the entire thing for a good hour simply because people wanted to see an Elf perform magic.

I was secretly very glad a lot of guards had come with us,  including Nea who proceeded to whack anyone who even looked mean at me or Fable with a willow stick.

Those hurt a lot, I knew from experience.

She also informed everyone she could that the Fae ban wasn't really in place anymore and the rest was just paperwork waiting for approval.

I did appreciate her even if she was needlessly violent a good part of the time.

After the sun was about to begin to set we headed back home and ate some sort of potato mash thing with stew.

Walking back to the shed I told Fable to go ahead and that I wanted to ask Oakley again on how much of that valerian stuff to take just to be sure and not overdose or something.

That was only partially true,  I would ask him again while I was there just to be safe of course.

But the actual reason for going there was something else entirely.

I really hoped Oakley was good at painting metal,  he was on paper sure, but metal was a little different than that.

Knocking carefully on the door so as not to startle him I patiently waited till he opened it and beckoned me inside.

Looking around I saw that he had shoved almost everything off the table in the middle of the room, literally, there was stuff in a heap on the floor.

The only thing still on it was a piece of fabric that clearly had something underneath it.

I could guess what that was, also Oakley really liked theatrics huh.

Eh, if he wanted to he could, it wasn't bothering anyone.

He walked over and around the table to stand behind it.

Then with a dramatic swing of his wing arm ripped the cloth from it.

“Tadaa!”

I stared at what Oakley had done with the compass, when he said he needed the copper I hadn't expected him to actually SCULPT with it!

Yes, Sculpt, on the compass he added leaves and flowers like I had asked for, but not only painted like I had thought.

The three dimensional ornaments looked beautiful and whatever paint Oakley got completely masked any trace of metal.

“You good? Or did your brain stop working?”

I blinked and looked back at oakley.

“Uh, i really thought you'd just paint it and not,  I don't even know how to describe it but I love it!”

It really was beautiful, and each of the forget me not was painted with an ethereal sort of shading.

“Yeah i can tell, your pupils are big”

“What?”

I looked at Oakley confused at the weird statement.

“Oh didn't you know? When people look at something they like,  their pupils get bigger! Quite an endearing thing really!”

I hadn't known that, well i doubted that was common knowledge or else people would fight about that as well.

“Uh well then i don't even have to say anything huh?

But really, thank you so much!”

I meant it, he had no reason to help me,  but he always did anyway even if i had no idea why.

He nabbed it from the Table and shoved it into my hands.

“Yeah yeah, you owe me a favor! 

Now scram i need to pile my stuff back on the table!”

I laughed a little at his clearly theatrical grumpiness.

It was very clear he didn't intend anything mean about that.

“I will, i will don't worry, but uh just to be sure,  and so I have something I can tell Fable, 

how much of the Valerian thing am I supposed to be taking?”

He flapped his three fingers against his forehead for a moment before telling me and then shoving me out of the door.

Oakley really was an enigma sometimes, but a likable one.

So now it was time to walk back to the castle in the dark.

I hated that part, I was fine with darkness but I wasn't exactly fond of being alone outside while there could be who knew what.

Luckily after only a few paces I heard a familiar meow and the cat appeared.

She walked all the way back with me and then kept walking in the direction of the kitchen.

I briefly wondered if she just didn't want to walk alone as well.

Making sure to hide the compass properly on myself before stepping inside, I quietly opened the door.

Slinking in, I closed it as silently as I could and walked over to the corner with my stuff.

Fable seemed to be already asleep so I went quietly to avoid waking him up.

Taking off my shoes I also hid the compass under some freshly washed spare shirts, to avoid it getting scratched I put it on the second last one and then put the other, identical, shirts back over it.

There, now there wouldn't even be a suspicious sound should I drag the cloth a bit too much while taking a new one.

Yeah that would work, and tomorrow I'd get a nice wrapping for it and the day after that I'd give it to Fable.

Two days, well technically only one and maybe a half,  and then he would leave.

I wasn't exactly happy about that,  In the past week I had grown to really like him, sure he was my brother but that didn't set in stone that we would get along.

But we did get along great actually,  especially now that he had control over his own brain again.

But I guess he was right, if he felt like he couldn't figure out what type of person he was here in Kamerasca then staying didn't make much sense.

I'd just wish he'd at least stayed for a month instead of a week.

Taking the Valerian stuff Oakley gave me and checking twice that i got the right measurement in the cup i drank it like i had seen people do shots at the bars in the city.

Surprisingly it didn't taste as awful as I had thought,  but it still wasn't on my list of liked things.

Shifting back to Ardua form I yanked some of the blankets that were strewn about closer to me and settled down to sleep.

The stuff Oakley gave me actually worked, there still were some nightmares but not as many and definitely not as severe as before.

What a relief.

The next morning I felt at least a little bit well rested so while it wasn't a hundred percent effective it did help a lot already.

The day was then over way too fast for my liking,  but I did spend the remaining time with Fable and Robin.

Arthur and Rikaad were busy with paperwork again.

During the day I also managed to get a pretty little bag in a lovely red hue.

This would be perfect for the compass!

And it was, it fit perfectly inside of it and I tied it with a neat little bow while Fable got comfy on the loft for one last time.

And way too soon the day of departure had come.

I took the hidden gift out of its stash and put it in my pocket to give it to him later.

Fable himself was currently in the Kitchen getting provisions and I didn't doubt that the kitchen staff would shove at least some sweets into his hands.

Well, this was it, Fable was going to leave.

He promised not to go without saying bye to everyone so he would wait on the other side of the protective wall of the castle.

At this point he had to be there now so I'd better hurry along.

It would feel weird to have the shed to myself again, 

though I didn't doubt that Robin would stay overnight a lot of the time.

The walk over to the gate felt weirdly long,  even though it wasn't actually that far from my place.

The oversized entrance itself was wide open, allowing for easier back and forth as I saw some other people talk to Fable.

Including Nea and Norrin as well as Arthur who hadn't really liked him at the start.

Nice to see that changed enough for Arthur to come say something as well.

Walking through the gate I was joined by Robin who sprinted after me and only narrowly avoided collision.

We then turned to Fable, who was standing in the sunlight and got a ‘friendly’ shoulder punch from Nea.

Nea then left, walking past us and waving at him while dragging a not so happy looking Norrin with her.

So that left only me Robin and Arthur to speak with Fable.

My mind blanked, what could I say?

Luckily I was given a little bit of time to think of something as first Arthur said his grumpy goodbyes and then Robin his more positive ones.

They both left then to give us some space.

“I- uh, i got something for you before leave”

I pulled the little red bag out of my pocket and held it out for him.

He carefully took it and started untying the string with only barely hidden curiosity.

“I know it's not a lot but i thought it would be nice to give you something to remember me by, even if that sounds a bit cliche”

Man i sounded absolutely stupid, this was the last time i would be able to talk to him! And I was butchering it!

Just like the day he appeared at the castle, heh.

By now he had managed to open the clumsily tied bag and pulled out the compass.

He held it like a coin in his fingers and turned it so the sun shone on every facet.

For a split second I saw his pupils get bigger, and if Oakley was right, which he surely was, Fable liked what he saw.

He turned to me.

“This is beautiful, how did you get your hands on this?

The only other compass I have is old and cracked, which is why I navigate by stars most of the time.

But I can't exactly do that at day or when the weather is bad,  so this is perfect.

Thank you”

He moved a step forward and hugged me, I immediately hugged back, almost not wanting to let go as that meant he would leave.

But there was no way I could hold on forever so eventually I let go.

I was sure Fable was about to turn away and walk off when he got distracted by a mewling sound.

The cat! What the hell?

Fable turned the other way again and bent down to pet her.

“Hello Gloxinia, here to wish me goodbye too?”

What.

Don't tell me he actually managed to find a name the cat liked.

“You named her??? Wait, how did you find a name she liked,  and what does Gloxinia even mean?”

Fable stood up again, this time holding the cat, and looked at me.

“One time I was reading a botany book and the cat decided to sit on top of the pages, a page depicting a flower whose name is also Gloxinia.

So i just tried to call her that and it worked”

I was done trying to understand anything pertaining to cat,  and Oakley, forever now.

Why even try when the answer just made it more confusing.

Fable put the cat- Gloxinia on the ground again and turned to face me.

“Well, i cant say ive ever been good at saying goodbyes,  so i guess, this is it?”

At least I wasn't the only awkward one here.

“I guess so? I'm not good at this either but I do wish you luck and safe travels! And if you get the chance, try to write me a letter?”

He nodded.

“Of course, i'll even try to send some souvenirs,  though i cant promise they wont get stolen during the delivery”

That sounded nice, just not the stealing part.

I was about to say something more when I heard someone shout from up above.

Looking up I saw Oakley, well who else did I know that could fly?

He landed a few feet away from us to avoid blasting us with the dust his wings disturbed.

“Wait just one second! I got something for the both of you! 

And I assure you you'll find it highly practical!”

What was he talking about? Well he'd say that in a minute but it probably had to do with whatever was in the big satchel at his side.

He walked the few feet left towards us and pulled out two nearly identical books.

The only difference between the two was that one was decorated with blood red poppies and the other one with sunshine yellow Dandelions.

I could guess that one was for me and one for Fable.

I was proven right when Oakley shoved the one decorated with poppies into my hands and the other one into Fables.

I curiously opened the book only to find that all of the pages were empty.

I looked confused to Oakley who by now had fished a feather and some ink out of the satchel.

“Thanks? I think, what are these for?”

Oakley just tilted his head to the side like an owl.

“Well if you open the first empty page of both of your Logos books i can show you!”

Logos book? Was this something magical? 

I still did as he said though, and so did Fable.

He dipped the sharp end of the feather into the ink and then wrote in simple letters hello in the middle of my book.

I was confused for a second before I noticed that the words had appeared on Fables pages as well.

Ohhh so definitely magic!

Wait if what was written in my book showed up in his then he didn't even have to send a letter! He could just write to me using these books!

“Oakley, this is genius! Thank you so much!”

Fable also agreed with me though he did have one question about it.

“What happens when the books are full? 

And we don't have any empty pages left?”

That was a very good question actually, would he have to come back from who knew where to get a new one?

Oakley gently took Fable's book again,  and then poured some of the ink all over the page.

Of course it appeared in my book too and both of us exclaimed in confusion.

Oakley just waved that off.

“Relax, i'm just gonna show you what to do when you ant to get rid of the old writings”

Oh, that made a lot more sense.

He closed the book and held it over the inkpot again who he had wrapped into his tail to free his hands.

Then he ran his hand along the spine of the book and tapped the cover twice.

All of the previously spilled ink dripped out into the inkpot and when he opened the pages they were empty once again.

Oakley really was a master at magic, or at the very least really creative with it.

“Ohhh, that's actually awesome! And you get the ink back as well!”

Though various kinds of Ink might mix weirdly.

The winged man nodded.

“Yes! Just don't hold it over yourself while doing that or you're gonna stain your stuff!”

Well that one was rather obvious.

“Thank you so much Oakley! 

I think that's the most useful thing I've ever been given!”

It was, also i never received that many gifts anyway so that wasn't hard to do.

Fable nodded as well.

“That will make communicating a lot easier, thank you”

Oakley made a weird salute and then flapped up into the sky once again.

“Well, see ya sometime I hope! And good journey you pale Elfling!”

With those words he was gone, he really was extra sometimes.

So now we were alone again.

What now? 

He turned to me.

“Is anyone else planning on randomly appearing?”

“Not that i know, but Oakley is Oakley so he was probably the only one”

At least I hoped so,  this had completely derailed what we were actually doing.

To be fair whatever that was it was awkward as hell.

Since I really doubted anyone else was going to appear that meant Fable was going to leave now.

Like right now right now.

“Well, i wish you the best on your journey,  and that you find whatever you are looking for”

There wasn't much to say anymore, and even if we forgot something we now had the books so it wasn't a problem.

He smiled, for real this time.

Slightly crooked with his teeth partially showing.

He hugged me again and for a moment we both just froze.

He squeezed me for a moment, which put my ear next to his mouth, And then he whispered in my ear.

“My actual name is Andariel”

Just that and nothing more, but my eyes went wide at the sign of trust he had just given me.

For a true member of the Feyfolk do not give their names out lightly, if at all.

But he trusted me enough to tell me his real name, one I knew I'd never speak out loud or write down.

For a single moment i squeezed back, vowing silently to never ever tell anyone what He had just told me.

“Thank you for trusting me, i will keep my lips sealed about it forever”

Was all i could say as my mind blanked otherwise from this immense show of absolute trust.

He stopped squeezing me so hard, but still didn't let go yet.

“I'm going to miss you little brother”

“So do i, but at least we now have those Logos books as Oakley called them”

“That man is definitely not sane”

I couldn't agree more with that, but Oakley was still an alright, 

if sometimes over the top guy.

I just nodded into his shoulder and he let go for one last time.

“I promise when i found what i'm looking for i'll come back here to visit”

That sounded nice, and until then we had the books.

I continued to stand there till long after Fable had disappeared behind the treeline and it started to get dark.

I stood there long enough for Robin to have to come and drag me back to the shed.

When I told him Fable had successfully named the cat he pouted.

But he did like the name she had been given.

It was weird to be alone in the shed, thus far almost always someone had been here, mostly Robin or Fable.

But now it was silent, and that didn't help with the nightmares.

Despite the stuff from Oakley they came back to haunt me worse than the previous nights.

A knock on the door woke me up.

“Uhh‽ whasgoin on?”

There was another knock on the door, a much more timid one this time.

Since I was in the Ardua form I couldn't really open the door, and I didn't feel like shifting.

“S’not locked”

I yawned and the door slowly opened to reveal a familiar redhead.

“...umm i just…i dunno make sure you're okay? Now that Fable is gone”

It didn't sound like that's what he originally came here for but it was appreciated nonetheless.

“mhm , im fine, space just feels empty now”

It did, and it was strangely quiet, not sure if I liked that any.

Robin just stood there awkwardly and fiddled with his nails.

“Don't keep standing in the doorway,  c'mere and tell me why you're actually up this late”

He looked to the ground for a second and then closed the door behind him before making his way over to me.

He flopped against my side face first and stayed like that for a few seconds before he answered.

“I had a nightmare”

It was quiet and muffled against my fur but still plenty understandable.

Ah, so that's why.

Well, misery loves company or however that saying goes.

“You're not the only one, you actually woke me up from one”

He looked at me.

“I did? Umm well, can I stay here? Just- just till tomorrow?”

“Sure! I don't mind, it's a bit too quiet now anyway”

He clambered over to my head and settled in the bend of my arm,  like he'd done many times before.

I wouldn't ask what the nightmare was about, but I could guess.

Since he had been at the castle during the battle the only really horrible thing he had seen was Barsens corpse.

It didn't take a genius to figure out it had been that.

“Thank you”

He curled up where he was and I settled down as well.

It wasn't that much later when I heard quiet sniffling.

Looking at the redhead I could see he had curled up as small as he possibly could and was almost silently crying.

“...I miss him, why'd he have to go like that? 

He didn't even say what he was gonna do.

And who's gonna take care of the plants now?”

He mumbled into the fur of my arm.

So I had been right then, it was about Barsen.

“I miss him too, i think everyone does, as for the plants, i don't know”

At some point a new gardener would be hired,  had to be as everything would go unkempt and wild otherwise.

Robin shuffled closer to where my shoulder connected with my neck and tried to burrow himself in there.

“...i don't wanna sleep, what if i get more nightmares?”

I could understand that, before I asked Oakley for help I had trouble not just staying awake as well.

“I don't think you'll have nightmares every time you'll sleep,  but we could go ask Oakley for help tomorrow?

He did help me with that so i'm sure he'll find something”

I tried to reassure him.

He just tried to burrow even deeper into my mane as if it was a forcefield that would keep bad dreams away.

“It's too quiet, in my room i mean, i'm used to have other people around me when i sleep and now everytime i wake up and it's silent i have a moment of horror where i think everyone else in the room is dead”

Oh, so it wasn't only the nightmares.

Right, he'd lived in the dorms of the Guard academy which he shared with Rikaad and Arthur.

It was actually very unlikely he'd ever been alone for so long so I could imagine having the quiet be weird to him.

“Well, now that's Fable not here anymore you could just have the loft? 

I don't really use it aside from looking out the window when it rains”

That and then maybe my own nightmares would also get better, even if just to have the reassurance that my friends are alive and well.

“...You sure? It's your place”

I nodded.

“Yeah, now that Fable’s gone it's gonna be lonely so i wont mind don't worry”

He hmm-ed and detangled himself only a little from my mane.

“Okay, … hey  can you uhh, i don't wanna be- im cold and i don't want to wake up to silence again, so could you-?”

The sentence was horribly jumbled and it took my tired brain a good bit to catch on,  well while I tried to decipher what he said he did move one of his hands to softly poke the corner of my mouth,  the only thing he could reach from where he was.

Ah, so like after the celebration party or during the thunderstorm then.

“Like during the storm? But only if you're sure”

He nodded, having moved to now be more next to my head.

“Mhm, i can hear your heart like that so i know i wont wake up thinking people died again”

That did make some sense in an admittedly weird way.

If he was tucked away like that there would be no way for him to wake up alone.

“Alright, shoes off though who knows what you stepped in”

He obliged and tossed them towards the door where they landed in the middle of the floor two meters apart from each other.

Yeah, sure, that worked, but I wasn't gonna put them away now he could do that himself tomorrow.

“Alright then, ready?”

I asked him tiredly and he nodded while tripping over himself to get more in front of me instead of next to my shoulder.

I bent down and took his entire upper half into my mouth before he even had a chance to completely right himself up again.

He seemed confused for half a second but then gave an amused sound.

It was late and I didn't want to take forever so I quickly tilted my head back a little and let the ginger slide all the way in.

I paused for a moment in case of the small chance that he didn't want to anymore.

No protest came which didn't surprise me since he was always strangely okay with this.

Well i was partly to blame considering i kept enabling him,  but as long as he didn't get the same idea should he ever stand in front of a Dragon or whatever it was fine.

I softly swallowed and he slid halfway into my throat.

For a moment he made a strange movement and I stopped confusedly.

But after a second I noticed he was not in distress and instead was trying to tickle me,  probably as revenge for nabbing him up from the floor like that.

It was largely ineffective, if anything it just felt a little funny, so I swallowed again and he was now completely squished into my throat.

Another swallow and he was fully inside the storage pouch where he slipped around a bit to get upright again.

“Are you alright?”

He stopped moving for a moment.

“Hm? Yeah i'm fine, a little upside down, but-  uhh thank you,  i just- i didn't want to be alone so thanks”

I could practically see in my mind how he was fiddling awkwardly with his hands as he said that, but it was nice to know he was alright.

Maybe now we could both get some sleep without any unwanted disturbances.

“Good to hear, I think we should both sleep now,  if anythings wrong you can just wake me okay?”

He sleepily agreed after turning ‘upright’ and then settled down.

He must have been really tired, well so was i.

Laying down and using the arm without the bracelet as a pillow I closed my eyes.

Shortly before falling asleep I hear Robin mumble something that I could just barely translate to ‘you're warm’ before I joined the dreaming world.

For the first time since the battle there were no nightmares as I slept, 

just a small and protective warmth.

———————————————————————————

PREVIOUS / OVERSIGHT

ARC 3

[luckyshotwrites]

Ch. 53 // Girls Day Out // Day Off

Contents (Warnings): How bad can a girls day be? (vore mentions, angst, vore attempt, slight teasing, some action, and as always character/monster info).

Wordcount: 4800+ (Sorry it took a while!)

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

Day 42 (Ending of the Halloween Party)

We only got a little explanation as to what happened. Someone started a fight inside the mansion. When most of our group got a hold of Alexander, he refused to give details. He simply told us not to worry and to make our way home, much like Viola and the two others helping her did to the rest of the crowd. 

Elliot and June walked me to my car. It mainly was June sticking onto me and Elliot steering our direction. 

Not that I felt I had to say anything, "I hope you two drive home safe too."

June giggled and tapped on his face, "Elliots driving! I don't have my glasses. I can't drive without them."

Oh, right. Tristan explained he only sees energy without them. It works the same with June too. 

I told them to both have a goodnight and drove off. I wish I had more time. I finally felt safe with protection. As I drove home, I made a mental check mark, another reason the morning crew seemed the way to go besides Beatrice being there.

I got home a little after one in the morning. I texted Wenna about her costume and texted Drake to thank him for the invite. I didn't do much besides be... my throat forged a grumble out of frustration. 

The thoughts at least forced me to recheck all the windows and locks on the doors. Everything's on lockdown, I thought. I made it back into my room and slipped into the shower. The touch of the cold water jolted my body. It wasn't ice cold but not warm either. It was hard, especially now, to feel anything warm and wet, even without the gooiness. 

I pushed my thoughts to the end of the party. What happened? Alexander seems involved, along with Wenna and Drake. They weren't around after it. If something happened with Drake, I'd expect Alexander to be pissed. That's his best friend.

I scrubbed thoroughly and let the wild theories scurry into my mind. I let them. I wanted a distraction.

After another ten minutes, I left the shower, got dressed, and looked back at my texts. None of them replied except Drake with a simple thumbs-up emoji. 

What are you doing out this late anyway, Wicks? I asked. Why couldn't he tell me if he's dating someone and out with them? 

I wasn't mad at him for needing time alone if that was the case, but it'd still hurt if he lied to me instead.

I sat back on my bed and sat cross-legged. I wish I was different. Would that be better? I didn't know what I'd do as a monster. My family would freak out if I told them magic and monsters are real. I can't imagine if I was one...they'd shun me. I bounced a few times back and forth and then yelled out. 

"ARGH!!" I threw myself back on the bed and covered my face. This is why I didn't want to stay home. I wanted to... I let my hands fall. "Distract myself." And I chose to go out somewhere dangerous. What am I thinking? It turned out fine, but what if it didn't? Then what? We were all rushed out after. Would I have gone home with them? 

I took a deep breath, "the bets, the days, focus on the days. It'll be over soon." I said. The empty room reflected my sentence back. I can't play the "oblivious game" with Alexander, he'd get pissed, and Lev would offer to give me "demonstrations."

I clutched my damp hair. "Do I keep trying to engage with them? What about the girls' day? It's Wednesday?"

I tossed Lev and Alexander out of my mind. "OKAY, Drake, Zilla, and Claudia. Those are the three I should talk to. Zilla might be WILLING to have a conversation with me, Claudia would be a valuable asset, but she seems all over the place..." I groaned.

"And then there's Drake. He's probably the most trustworthy out of the night crew..." Or at least he isn't out to get me. 

I closed my eyes in an attempt to sleep, though the party plague. I tried to keep a silly train going and joke about the fun I'd coming Saturday. Charletta, Wicks, and I would be back under the same roof. I could already hear the yells and trouble we'd get into. It brought me an ounce of comfort, but I couldn't quite sleep until Wicks got home. 

...

Day 44 (Nov. 2nd, Wednesday)

"HEY!" Wicks pushed me back into my room right as I was leaving it. "No, no, no, you are not wearing that, Lentils."

"What-" I tried to protest as he got behind me and pushed me forward to my closest. "I'm looking good!"

"YEAH RIGHT." Wicks said with a playful tone, "every bit of that looks good on it's own NOT together." He pointed to the closet, "now try to pick an outfit and I'll tell you yes or no."

He walked across the way to my bed and sat back on it. I had just made it, so I squinted at him for ruining it.

I looked in the mirror beside my closet. I liked my, "duck this" shirt and skirt with parachute pants combo. Plus I wore my favorite red boots.

"I want to keep my duck this shirt!" I declared pulling at the fabric to show him.

He had both of his hands on the edge of the bed. His lips wiggled with a smile. He did a fake eye roll, "ugh, fine.~"

"Thank you, Liege." I replied as I searched through my clothes. "So what else do I need to change?"

Wicks laughed, "Lentils, just find some jeans and white or black tennis shoes."

"That sounds plain."

"Better than looking like a clown, we got..." he lifted up his hand to count.

"Three days including today left." I lifted up my pink polka dot jeans.

"LENTILS, MOM TOLD YOU TO THROW THOSE AWAY!"

I hugged the jeans to my chest, "I love them, they're so pretty!"

Wicks came home Tuesday afternoon and slept pretty much the whole day. Over these past two weeks, he's been lively and that was no exception today. However, there was still something there, something I had yet to understand.

...

Zilla

She adjusted her black leather jacket before she sat down. She released a big sigh after. I should have got breakfast before I got here. Her eyes skimmed over those who joined the girls' day and the other monsters sitting in the waiting room. She smiled. There are so many lovely smells. 

Her violet beams soon traced over the redhead briefly. She took note of how she sat. Her body was slightly hunched with a closed-off reserve. She pulled back at the thought. 

So many other choices. Monsters are better. Zilla said it like a reminder, way more filling than puny humans. 

She fidgeted with her white mini-dress and the black leggings underneath. The six of them waited for their baths to be ready. Viola picked a Spa, "Relax and Sit Back." Above was the human portion of the spa, while underground, where they were, harbored the spa for monsters. It was still decorated much like above with white interior walls and granite floors to slide across. They were some of the first people here along with the others in the area so the staff were finishing up a few final touches down the halls.

"I should have gotten breakfast," Zill expressed to the group. 

Lynette flinched as expected.

Zilla continued, "You don't have to worry your sweet little head. We're not like Wendie or Lev." The staffed called back those in the waiting room. They all got out of their seats, none of the monsters were out of their cases yet. They strode down the hall to the far left, passing the elevator they used to get down. 

"They aren't very nice to you, are they?" Viola asked Lynette.

She grumbled instead of giving a complete response. 

"Yeah, Zilla's right. I only eat humans on SUPER rare occasions. I don't want to spoil myself too much." Claudia said with a cheery grin, "and your safe from Viola..." she started to chuckle pointing to Tila, "and your WAAAY too big for itty bitty, teeny tiny fairy pants." 

Tila shot her a glare. "You used an unnecessary amount of descriptors. I'm not that small." 

Your species was the smallest I'd ever seen on Yexodele. 

Claudia taunted her, "you're less than a foot tall! Ten inches at most!" She patted her head and tried to mess up her hair. Tila grabbed at her hand and they started to argue further. Tila's voice raising into more of an embarrassed and fluster shrill as it went on.

It brought a smile to Zilla's face, though her ears picked up the conversation next to her. It made her switch to it.

"Speaking of feeling peckish." Beatrice hummed, finally getting off her phone. "How about you let me eat you for the rest of this spa day, honey?" She lulled over Lynette like a vulture.

Like she'd say yes. 

Lynette teetered away. Zilla could see Beatrice's pink rose colored hue get it's bristles ready to prick her. Why should I be surprised? You've got yourself another monster bullying you. 

"I'd rather enjoy the day," Lynette replied as they entered the giant bathing room.

The floors were a smoothed crème rock with high walls and waterfalls sputtering over the tops of those walls. They led below to massive pools of clear crystal water. There were several divots of pools varying of different sizes with thick paths along the middle to allow them to walk between the levels of depth.

On either side, left or right there were hanging racks for clothing and staff on standby to help monsters with specific needs either with the water, or lack of swimming capabilities. Zilla eyed the one in back that looked the deepest with a few rock structures coming out of the middle for secure holds.

Zilla pointed out, "that pool looks big enough for all of us." She hadn't been able to really go out to places and stretch out often. "this is going to be great, Viola~." 

Zilla smiled as the others were taking off their clothes in approval. Zilla started to pull of her jacket and heard her phone ring. She pulled it from her jacket pocket.

"The bother" it said with a picture of Zane's face. Zilla moved back to the door from which they came, she put her back to the wall next to it and answered.

His voice boomed with joy before she even said a word, "ZILLA! How is my lovely sister doing!!"

She ran her hand through her barely tamed grayish-white hair, "what is it?" Her voice held nothing air.

"Heeeeey," Zane's petulant pout was audible. "I just wanted to know how your girl trip is going and who you're with?"

"The girls at work, I told you." She heard June's excited tone in the background saying 'HI!' to Zilla. They are probably at the end of their lunch.

"Right!" The curiosity of a Cheshire cat purred in his next question, "did Lynette go too?" Zilla held her answer. He sang sweetly, "Zilla~."

She nodded and looked over her group, "she's with us, yes."

A soft, amused snicker came out, "it's like she doesn't learn, does she?"

"Viola's here."

"And what if Viola leaves? Claudia wouldn't watch her, Tila could easily get distracted by another species she's never seen before, and Beatrice doesn't care for her safety," Zane said.

Zilla shut her eyes. If I was in her position. I would have left the pizzeria on day one. 

"I know not every monster would pursue her and you know not all of them will ignore her..." She heard her brother whisper, "I surely wouldn't."

...

Lynette

HOW- I felt heavily abashed. Everyone stripped without a second thought. I get why they want us to get clean before a massage, then we'll have the sauna after, but this is so...

"What's the matter, Lynette?" Viola asked.

I glanced back at the her form that stood over me, confidently. My eye level wasn't much higher than her chest. I turned away.

"Can I do it in my clothes?" I muttered.

Claudia popped up in front of me, "aw, come on! You don't wanna swim in soggy clothes!" 

I faced upward. How are they all okay with this?

Luckily, a staff member approached me and offered me a swimming suit to change into. After a little bit of uncomfortableness changing in the open, and I followed Viola to the furthest and largest pool.

She held her hand out to me, "you can swim right?"

I nodded, "I wouldn't want to go in if I couldn't." I met her hand. She pulled me into the water with her. The swim in the warm water to the top, felt a little frantic but I burst through with a gasp. I immediately did a backstroke away from the giant Zilla that laid across the water with her tail, clung to one of the rock pillars at the center.

While Claudia and Tila remained in their human cases, they looked to be "chatting" with further mockery, mostly from Claudia.

I pulled back, not too far from them on another rock. Where's Viola? I questioned. I partially put my arms on it in case I had to pull myself off. It was then when I sniffed at my skin and the flowery scent really hit me.

"Does it have soap in it?" That really didn't burn my eyes coming out.

I caught the studious, mint-green haired girls attention, "genarosi." She released Claudia's head which she had been holding under the water.

"Genarosi?"

Claudia continued to lay face down in the water, not moving. She slowly drifted away. Is she okay? I reached out toward her. Tila's response steered me away from her.

"A specific plant that feeds off bad bacteria such as Staphylococcus epidermidis as well as germs and dirt." She lowered her head in the water, let the water go into her eyes, then she popped back up, "it affects you the same as water, unless you are allergic to the plant. Which you'd know upon entering the water." 

That's pretty cool...and it would have been terrible if I was allergic. I heard a sweet melody from above me.

"I wonder what Lev's doing right now."

I peered up, Beatrice sat on the flat top like platform of the rock, in her monster form. Her wings continued to flutter off some of the water.

I sheepishly grinned, "that's one person I don't want to ever think about."

She rolled her eyes and looked off toward a few other patrons, "he is rude, but..." she smiled, "he's powerful, and I'd love to see that Drakin form.~" Her voice muttered quietly, "I wish he grabbed me again after my insult at the party."

Tila came in, "I'm also curious about Lev's drakin species. His mannerisms and closeness remind me of the Tazmakin, but I've seen his scales once." She shook her head, "red is such an unusual color."

"He is strange!" Claudia said splashing Tila. She Splashed back.

Beatrice sighed longingly, "he might be more willing to talk about it if I gave him an offering." Her eyes fell on me. I pushed from the rock. 

"No thanks," I said. 

"Persumptious of you," Beatrice said. "Like you'd be good enough for him." 

Please explain that to him, Beatrice. Get him to EAT real food. Or energy-charged food.

I felt too intimidated to say that aloud to her, especially with the look she gave me.

I faced Tila who was pushing Claudia's head under the depths again.

I inquired anyway, "Drakin? Like Dragon?"

Tila nodded letting Claudia up. Claudia laughed as she resurfaced.

"The humans call them dragons, yes. Most of our species possess different names compared to what humans gave us. Some monsters told to humans what to call them when some of the first monsters ended up here. And some of the names were given to us." She pressed on her chest. "Escora is what my species is called, but we are in closer relations to the species humans call fairies, so we took up that name. There are plenty of name differences from our world to yours."

"So, do all of you have different species names?"

"And real names, yes," Tila replied. "Translation errors, plus any sort of dead giveaways, are what we try to avoid."

Oh. "You're not using your real names?" That makes sense; excluding Zilla, everyone has basic names. 

Tila shook her head, "we've-" a wave knocked her off balance. It threw me back into the rock and the creature exploded up from the water. It's grayish blue tentacles sprang out from the back of its head. At least that's what I assumed, not that I stuck around to stare at the being at least twenty feet tall.

I scrambled to escape it, but one of its thick tentacles wrapped around me. 

"Hey, hey, it's me, Lynette!"

Viola's sweet, softness touched my ear. She brought me up to face her and her pale, near transparent beauty and not too much at the spiked, rugged exterior below her torso.

I had felt dizzy by the sudden whip up, so I need to catch my breath.

"It's okay, see!" She spoke so close to me that I was able to see the rows of teeth inside her mouth. And it was like her smile mocked me.

It might have been a combination of the sudden spook, the fact she held me so close, and the whiplash, but all I could do is weakly smile before I passed out.

...

Beatrice

Her hue narrowed heavily on Lynette once they got her out of the water. Everyone was finishing with their soak anyway. She flew across the water and landed gracefully on the drier land near the clothing rack. 

Viola had activated her human case again and tried to comfort Lynette. 

She's so sure of herself, isn't she? What kind of human thinks they're better than a monster? Her lip raised in a snarl. You think you're so much better and more capable, huh? 

She saw the row of individuals that were there for their massages. She noticed the male, in particular, speaking to Lynette and Tila. 

She brought her fingernails up and whispered over them. Beatrice knew waiting for it to grow back would be annoying, but she figured it'd be worth it now.

"As soon as you get the human alone, she's all yours." Her voice intertwined with her black pinky claw. She passed the guy who leaned over Lynette and pricked him in his back. The stab wasn't hard enough to notice, similar to a mosquito. She pulled back her finger quickly before the others saw. The male simply scratched his back, and then her smile widened. 

She could feel his mind, and a soft snicker left her lips. Lynette, I tried to be nice and give you such a gracious honor. Let's see how you feel about this. 

...

Lynette

It tickled at first, hurt in a bad way, and then started to hurt in a good way. I never got a massage beside the ones we tried to do to each other as kids mimicking walking on someones back. It took a little for the guy who pressed on my back to be gentle enough not to break it.

Their timer went off after an hour. I saw Tila get up from the bed next to me. I went to get up, but the male with orangish blue hair doing my back spoke out.

“Let me get out this last knot.” 

I tried not to linger on Tila as she finally got a towel around her. I remained down and agreed.

Tila and her masseuse left the room, going to the sauna. I felt his hands pull away. 

I went to get up, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw his skin tear. I scrambled off the table and my palms failed to hold my body. My face collided with the ground. It stung, specifically my nose and forehead as the rest of my body collided sideways onto the hard, cold floor.

I heard one of his palms slam onto the table. I threw myself up, to see the giant being hunched over the space. Tila and I were in the smaller space given our size. He was definitely similar to a fish, like a mix between a goliath tigerfish and catfish with a humanoid body.

I got to my feet and aimed for the thick, delicately designed wooden door. He shifted the table behind me and right before I reached the knob, his hand came around my left shoulder and torso. His other then went to my hips and waist on my right side. His slimy, cold and wet webbed fingers tightly gripped my body.

My left arm was pinned, and my right flailed as he picked me up.

"HELP!" My voice sounded more pitiful than anything when it left my throat. I could barely yell. 

I tried to push his fingers apart. His hands wouldn't budge.

The being lifted me up and opened his mouth over me. I saw his giant teeth go over my head as its tongue pressed at the back of my hair. 

It closed its mouth and placed its teeth down on my neck with enough pressure to make sure I didn't move my head.

Meanwhile, its tongue pushed and prodded underneath my head and around the sides of my face. I kept my eyes and mouth closed. Afraid to make any rash movements in fear, not that I thought it would matter.

He removed the pressure, to take in more to swallow.

I threw up my free hand to get to his lips and push them away. But instead, I grabbed something else that moved by it.

“AH-URCK!” His throat whined.

His suddenly let go. I didn't and fell out of his jaw. His body went forward with it, and I dropped what I held once I touched the ground. I cracked my eyes open scrubbing the saliva off. Then, darted for the door and crashed into it.

I threw it open, and saw he held his whisker. His face scrunched up and what followed was a loud growl. It threw itself forward and I slipped out.

I darted in the direction of people on my right, down the hall of many doors. I recognized the two, one by their bombastic jumps, and the other by her, long crazed hair.

I called out in panic, “CLAUDIA, ZILLA!"

They both turned around and watched me. I tripped over myself to get to them. I didn’t even feel comfortable calling their names. They have no reason to protect me.

I felt the being encroach, his dense slaps got closer.

Zilla tipped her head toward Claudia, I couldn't hear what she said. She then dropped her towel and ran at me with a grin. What followed Zilla's action was Claudia dropping her towel too. I didn't care why at this point.

I saw a hand whirl up from Claudia. It sprang at me and wrapped around my upper torso before the monster touched me. 

Zilla's form broke as I passed her. 

“Whoa,” Claudia threw herself back with me. We narrowly avoided the giant tail that whipped out into the wall. “I always forget Zilla’s SO big!” 

“Th-thank-you.” I said between breaths. 

Claudia smiled with innocence, “Zilla’s idea. She’s been waiting for an excuse to eat one of the employees here.” She giggled as she started to walk off with me, “we were trying to brainstorm an idea before you came along.” 

"Still, thank you..." I wiggled a little in her noodle arms-like grip, the fishy slime still covering parts of my face and hair. “Claudia, do you mind cleaning me off and putting me down.”

“Right!” She did so and dropped me. I gained my footing after stumbling a bit, “you tend to attract a lot of monsters, hmm? You should work on being less tasty.”

“That’s not that kind of stuff I want to hear after…he might have killed me.”

Claudia shook her head as she turned back to watch what happened with Zilla. I refused to look and simply listened to their scramble.

"Unlikely. At least right away, most monsters' bodies would want to recharge with you first." She looked at me with an unbothered expression, "if they wanted to, it’d be at least a couple of hours before any monster would start digesting you.” 

I held my stomach. I could feel my breakfast fighting to come up. Yet Lev and Alexander act like it's no big deal.

That thought made me think about the two. I've stayed in them for hours. Especially Alexander- I know he told me it takes concentration to digest something, but what if-

The fear started to solidify all over. 

She held her hands up, “at least that’s how it works with my body. Tiny Tila would know a lot more than me in that regard.”

I stepped back into the wall near the corner, "doesn't that bother any of you?"

"We need to eat," Claudia said. "I doubt any of them would kill you. Why would someone want to eat a human just to kill them? Unless they have some vendetta against them and need the energy." She nodded along with her statement, "other than that, especially in your case, it'd be a waste."

I swallowed back my urge to throw up. You eat food. Not people. 

"You've got a knack for getting into trouble," Zilla said, moving beside us. "It all worked out, so thanks."

My body jittered when she said that. Why do you not- My heartbeat felt heavy, like it sunk with my panic and worry. I wanted to drop down and curl into a ball. My legs were already together, and my arms were wrapped around me. 

It was then I realized she was standing next to us. STANDING.

I exclaimed to her, "DID YOU CRUSH HIM!?" I disregarded her naked body and the two towels she held. I faced her and took a step closer.

Zilla's eyes widened like she hated that I said that then her violet eyes fell back to their calmness.

She chuckled and looked away, her sharp nail traced her abdomen, "I have a seal that allows me to size-shift those eat." She started to walk around us after that. She waited for us to follow before she continued. "I can't really move around the pizzeria in my actual form. Much like me, a lot of monsters do this." She pressed at her abdomen, which held s slightly noticeable.

She passed her other towel to Claudia. They both got covered up.

I never really thought about that. They'd be too big, and I think Alexander's mentioned it before. 

My attention fell on a worker coming down the hall accompanied by two others that looked like security.

"Zilla, looks like you're in trouble!~" Claudia chirped as she walked around the corner, ushering me. When I didn't come immediately, she got my wrist.

Zilla groaned, "save me a seat."

Claudia strung me along. I want to go home and play beast crossing. That's a nice, harmless game. Wicks brought me new consoles, as he said he would, so games were back in business.  

We stopped outside the giant box. It could fit at least 100 people. 

Upon opening it up, a gust of steam washed over my face. I stumbled back; it reminded me of Lev. They were partially the reason I didn't like taking warm or hot showers anymore. 

Her extra limb came out again; it pushed me forward. "Let's go."

I didn't have a choice and moved in with the others. We were the only ones inside. 

"Where's Zilla?" Viola asked, sitting with her legs spread open. Clearly unashamed. 

"A few workers caught up to her after another monster tried to eat Lynette," Claudia said as she plopped down next to Viola on the far side. I went down on the other. "Zilla was happy. The staff, not so much."

Tila called out at me and pointed, "I was just with you. What did you say to him?"

"Nothing!" I exclaimed, "it's not like I asked him to attack me. He just snapped."

"No one would attack you without reason, honey," Beatrice said from a few seats on the bench away. She gave me the side-eye.

"Beatrice, don't be mean." Viola sighed as she patted my shoulder, "I'm glad you're alright." She looked over at me with worried eyes. "I never have this much trouble with Elise."

"Elise? Isn't that the partner you mentioned- she's human?"

Viola smiled, "right, you haven't met her yet. I've told her a bit about you. Having another human friend who knows about monsters would be nice for her." A small laugh left the muscular woman's mouth, "not that she doesn't have enough already being a giver, but one more wouldn't hurt, specifically for you."

A giver?! I still couldn't wrap my head around being okay with that. Not that my situation was too different. I don't purposefully give myself to monsters though!

"Claudia, Beatrice, you've both eaten Lynette, right? What do you think?" Tila asked before I could speak.

“Lynette?” Claudia peered over Viola at me and smiled, “she’s a weirdly funny human.” 

Tila shook her head, “isn’t she abnormal?”

I muttered, “weird..."

Claudia nodded, “yeah, you are weird; you're hanging out with the monster club.”

Tila shouted out with a little more vigor. "CLAUDIA, ENERGY-WISE." She exhaled with annoyance. “I have a theory about Lynette based on her knack for trouble." She put her hands together on her crossed legs. She sat on the top most bench. "Lynette might be a Jenkai...though my knowledge about them is surface level at best."

“Jenkai?” I had never heard that term before.

Beatrice perked up and laughed, “A Jenkai is supposed to be the highest quality delicacy with energy that makes monsters stronger. I wouldn’t consider her that highly.”

I flinched and hung my head down. Highest what? Why is it all food related?! 

“It’s a thought. Jenkai’s are rumored to be a human with more energy than normal. And it’d make sense since Lynette denied prior involvement with magic, and as far as we know, Jenkai's suddenly possess their special energy and don't keep it forever. So it would explain how she's avoided everything until this point.”

I scooted further off the bench and smiled with hope, "wait, are you saying if I am, I'll be cured sooner or later?" I said it like a disease. 

Tila shrugged, "from the little information I possess, yes. You'll most likely be a normal human after."

That means I won't have to deal with stuff like this anymore? And Alexander might want to eat me less. 

Claudia nodded enthusiastically, “sounds interesting," she then scratched her head, "how does a Jenkai happen, is it done to them?”

Tila puckered her lips like she ate something she found dissatisfying, “that’s the mystery of the fairytale...” She sighed, “We discussed it amongst my clan before, but the information was scarce. It's like most monsters have a brief idea on the subject and nothing else.” 

Viola held up a hand. Everyone fell silent, "hey, everyone," she ran her eyes over them all. "Before we go on with this, I want all of us to promise now, this won't be mentioned outside of this room." Her soft gaze fell onto me, "we don't want Lynette to be in even more danger."

You say that, Viola... I then looked at both Claudia and Beatrice. Yet why did we have to say this around the two I trust the least with anything about me.

...

Thank you for reading! :D Have a gouda day! (Nonnegotiable, if you're lactose intolerant, you're about to be in a lot of pain, sorry, not sorry. Lol).

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