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ryanmarshallryan · 1 month

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I've been having a lot more people reach out about the vore stories I write, so thought I'd throw it out there if anyone wants to donate to help me have more time to write stories, or likes my style and wants to commission something let me know over dm!

I usually write thinking from a prey perspective, but was feeling hungry after eating salads for a month and switched to pred for this story.

DIET BACKFIRED

I love my weight. I think my belly looks great on me. When I see those old statues of historical figures with dad bods I see myself and love it. But after gaining 25 pounds in a few months from stress, I decided to try out a diet for a bit, just to be cautious of my health. Man, it was hard. And this morning my hunger took control.

I was preparing a salad, heated up some chicken to mix in, sprinkled in some shredded cheese, spinach, lettuce, cucumber, tomato and such. All I could think about was how wonderful it would feel to have a full belly again. Not just feeling satisfied, but pigging out and shoving as much down my maw as possible. Feeling the gainer bug while also trying to diet was not going to work for me. I tore through my cabinet to find an old box of cookies. I opened the box, came to my senses and closed it, then decided I didn’t care and ate the remainder in one sitting. To try to slow myself down and tire out my palette, I tried to eat a bunch of lettuce, but then added a bunch of croutons and snacks without thinking. I still felt hungry, but just left the kitchen to stop myself.

Later, I hung out with my work-out buddy, Max, and vented about my hunger, “I’m still eating a lot! Just replacing chips with a lot of low fat snacks. So if the quantity of food I’m eating is the same, why am I always feeling sooooo hungry? Ugh.”

“Bro, sounds like you need a cheat day. But, hey, if you’re stressed about having too much high fat food, I can help you eat big while still holding back on the chips.”

“Well it can be helpful to sit with the feeling for a while. So if you start feeling hungry, write down exactly what you are craving and what that feels like. By the time you are done writing it out, if you’re still hungry for it… go for it. If the feeling passes, then move on,” Max continued.

“I’m sure we could try it, but I don’t see how much of a difference it’ll make.” I replied. I knew Max worked as some sort of private personal trainer or something on the side, so I felt inclined to believe him, but my stomach was doubtful.

After our workout, we visited a smoothie place and got large chocolate banana protein smoothies (after writing out what I was craving and waiting a moment before deciding to go through with it). I sucked mine down so fast I got a mild brain freeze.

“So how are you feeling? Hungry for another one?” Max asked, playfully placing a hand on my gut and giving it a quick rub.

“Ugh, I would totally go for a burger and fries right now… no, onion rings… actually both,” I replied, as Max handed me a notepad and pen. I wrote down the menu in my mind and thought about how it can be nice to feel so full without another care in the world.

“It’s been a few minutes… still hungry?” Max said with a sly smile.

“What do you think?” I asked him, lifting my gym shirt up to reveal my hairy belly, which gave a perfectly timed gurgle.

Max drove to my favorite burger joint and ordered a few meals and insisted on paying “This is my idea, don’t worry about it… for science!”

After downing two large burgers, a full bag of onion rings and a couple sides of fries, plus an apple that came with Max’s meal that he was too full to finish, I sat with my gut extended out in front of me.

Max leaned over to me, pulled my shirt up over my belly and patted it with his closed fist as if knocking at a door, “So how are you doing, hungry guy?” He put his ear to my side and listened intently to the stomach gurgles, occasionally making sounds of “Mmm,” “Yes, I see,” “Interesting.” I couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the absurdity of Max speaking to my belly.

“What’s so funny about listening to your gut? Intuitive eating is no joke,” Max said with a joking smile, “What is your stomach telling you?”

I thought for a moment, grabbed the notepad and wrote down ‘Though I should be full and done eating… Ice cream would hit the spot right now… Surely that would fill me up, and fill the void the low fat snacks have opened.’ I handed Max the written note.

Max looked from my belly to my eyes with a poker face, “I know just the place.”

In a few minutes we rolled up to Max’s apartment. Inside he pulled out some pints of cookies and cream ice cream and some mint chocolate chip. He handed me a spoon and opened the containers and sat across from me.

“Do you want me to get a bowl?” I asked.

“Nah. Try to intuitively eat. Just eat until your body feels done.”

“So… eat until there’s a nationwide ice cream shortage?”

Max threw his head back laughing, “If we get to that point, maybe we’ll pivot to a new tactic, but for now, feel free to eat as much as you want.” He looked endearingly into my eyes, and I felt my gut rumble, whether by digestion or hunger, or both, I couldn’t discern.

As I scooped down ice cream, we chatted about hunger, about scarcity mindset when it comes to food, and he told me some interesting facts about digestion and how to make room in one's stomach faster than normal by laying on the left side.

“Is this the stuff people need to know for your personal training work and such?” I asked.

“Personal training stuff?” Max gave a look of puzzlement then laughed, “I think I said that sarcastically a while back. A few guys pay me to help them gain weight and eat big. So sort of a personal trainer, but kind of the opposite effect that most would expect.”

“Ohhh, this tactic makes a bit more sense now,” I replied, continuing to eat the ice cream.

“Well, I thought if I encouraged you to experience the ability to eat as much as you want without restriction, you’ll realize that you don’t have to eat everything. It sounds like you are always hungry, because you are always denying that you want food.”

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true,” I went to scoop up more ice cream then realized I’d eaten all of it.

“How are you feeling?” Max asked, rubbing the top of my belly.

I felt a grumble deep in my stomach.”I can definitely feel my belly full of food, but I also could definitely do the whole thing all over again.”

Max considered me for a moment, then started listing off some random digestion facts again. He put his head on my stomach again, lifted my shirt off my body, listened again, took his hands and gently opened my mouth wide and peered down my throat, until I started laughing and he couldn't hold my mouth open.

“What are you doing? You think my stomach is gonna speak back to you in English?” I joked.

“No… but I wonder if I could better understand your hunger if I could better see inside your gut. Hmmm, maybe even just peering down your esophagus…”

“Don’t you need a fancy scope for that or something?”

“Not if you’re willing to relax your throat for a moment…” Max said. I shrugged, and he straddled my lap and shoved his head into my mouth. I could feel his energetic breathing against my tongue and wondered how on earth he could see anything down my throat with his head blocking light from the outside.

I heard a muffled “I’d like to see a bit further…” and felt him push his whole body forward into me. His shoulders shoved their way into my maw and stretched my jaw wide like an opera singer. I choked a little bit feeling his scratchy hair make contact with my uvula and the bottom of my tongue. I reflexively closed my lips over his skin and swallowed as the hair and breath tickled my maw. I realized that my peristalsis must have taken a bit of control, because I was surprised to see that I was looking down at his lower back with his arms pinned to his sides. I felt his nipples and pectoral muscles sliding against my tongue and felt his head squeezed tightly through my lower esophagus. What was going on? Though the sensation was filling me with dopamine and adrenaline, I realized that somehow my body was getting ready to eat a whole human, so I mentally prepared myself to try and regurgitate him. But instead I felt him force himself deeper into my throat, as his feet pushed off against the floor, and his upper torso wriggled and squirmed to slide deeper into me. I felt a sloshing in my gut, and heard a muffled intake of air and the continuation of more digestion facts being spewed out of Max’s ever curious mind obsessed with digestion.

Since Max seemed so intent on getting inside my stomach, and I knew I would need to breathe soon, I decided to help him out. I lifted his legs up over my head and felt gravity pulling him down my throat. I pulled his gym shorts and such off him and felt the interesting texture of his little belly over his abs, mixed with gym sweat and belly hair, felt past his hard on and groin, and his thick thighs as they all passed over my tongue and against my soft palate. My stomach finally began to feel full, as it sloshed with its soupy contents of dinner encasing Max’s squirming upper body. I knew Max’s hands had been freed from the tight grip of my esophagus as my inner stomach felt a peculiar tickling sensation with Max rubbing it from the inside. I felt him poke around and heard his muffled casual observations about my stomach.

I felt Max’s muscles seize up as he put his legs together tightly and let them slide easily down my throat. I felt his cold feet tickle my tongue, uvula and esophagus until they finally plopped into my stomach and I felt my throat open enough for me to exhale and breathe in more oxygen finally.

I took a few moments to gather my thoughts and catch my breath, feeling Max move around and curl up into a ball inside my tight stomach. I looked down to see the bulge his head made toward the top of my belly, with other odd bumps sticking out that I assumed were his knees and feet pressing up against my stomach walls. I felt his clammy hands push up against my stomach as he surveyed his new situation.

“Max, I forgot to write this craving down first.” I said, jokingly.

“Don’t worry I already did!” I heard him shout back, hearing it almost come up through my own throat. I stared in confusion at the opened notepad next to me and flipped to the last written note that read ‘Ice cream and everything else isn’t satisfying enough. Maybe eating me will do the trick. - Max’

My belly gurgled in surprise, “You planned for me to eat you?”

“I did shove myself down your throat, didn’t I?”

“But why would you -”

“Hey you didn’t try and stop me, bud,” he replied. I felt a pat against my belly, and shivered a little bit.

“Yeah, but I thought you just wanted to glance inside, but you wriggled in deeper!”

“Are you mad that I did?” Max asked. I felt him shifting his weight inside my gut and resting into me.

I considered the events of the night. I had really craved a day to just eat all I wanted, and Max gave all that to me and more. Even though I definitely didn’t expect him to force his way onto the menu, my belly felt much more satiated than it had been. “... I’m not mad at you… just want to make sure you know what you’re getting into… but I do have a confession.”

“What is it?” Max asked, shifting around and pressing his head up against the place where my hand was resting on my belly.

“I could go for some orange sherbert right now… I think your diet tactic failed.” My stomach added a large grumble and groan in agreement.

“Failed for you, maybe. But I’m cozy!” Max tried to stretch out a bit and I watched my stomach bulges shift in a funny manner, and felt my belly tighten and knead Max in response. “Plus, I think I figured out why you’ve been so hungry lately.”

“And what have you discovered?”

“That you should have eaten me ages ago! Once I’m digested into belly fat you’ll have more energy stored in your cells for longer, so you won’t be as hungry all the time! It’s simple science,” Max replied matter of factly.

“I’m not sure that science is sound, but as long as you’re happy, I’m fat and happy.”

“If you don’t think the science is sound, maybe you ought to repeat the experiment. Have a cheat day every once in a while,” Max replied, as he curled into a tight ball again and let my stomach relax and get to work over him. “I know I’ve been seeing that cute guy at the gym drooling over your gut, you know, the one who always wears that green hat? I’m sure he’d love to be a part of your next cheat day once you’ve had enough of your salads and diet again.”

I enjoyed the peace of feeling Max getting comfortable deep in my gut. I took deep breaths and felt my diaphragm move Max around slightly as my chest expanded and contracted. “Maybe I’ll ask him. But I’ll leave it up to him whether he wants to take it as far as you did tonight.” I rubbed my belly and stared, mesmerized at the lumpy spots on my belly indicating Max’s body relaxing against my stomach walls. I felt his heartbeat in polyrhythm against mine, with his breathing patterns tickling my stomach walls. I tasted the lasting flavors of his skin on my tongue, mixed with ice cream and other sustenance I had downed throughout the evening. Good thing we worked out first, to balance out this sharp intake in calories. So I suppose even if I had a cheat day from my diet, eating a whole human balances out to be healthy, right?

#gayvore #male vore #m/m vore #fat

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urfavoritewriter · 4 months

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More Than Neighbors

A commission for an anonymous user here on Tumblr, thank you for commissioning me!

Content: M/M Vore, Oral Vore, Endo, Digestion, Melting Digestion, Multiple Instances of Vore, burping

The sun cast a warm glow over the new neighborhood as Jake and Andrew arrived at their freshly leased apartment. The building, a quaint three-story structure, stood proudly with a coat of welcoming beige paint. As they stepped inside, the scent of fresh paint tickled their noses—a sign that this place was truly their canvas to fill.

The apartment had a cozy charm, with sunlight streaming through the large windows that adorned the living room. The kitchen, though compact, exuded a functional elegance, complete with gleaming appliances and granite countertops. A promising beginning to their life together.

With an exchange of glances and a shared smile, Jake and Andrew embarked on a rhythm of unpacking. The air was charged with the excitement of new beginnings. The sound of cardboard boxes being shuffled and furniture being arranged reverberated through the apartment.

Jake's lively voice, filled with enthusiasm, echoed, "Babe, I'm thinking the couch should go right here, what do you say?"

Andrew, a bit more measured in his responses, replied, "Yeah, that works. Gives a nice view of the TV and opens up the space."

Their shared brainstorming intertwined with the mundane yet significant task of setting up their home. Little did they know that this cozy abode would soon become the stage for a more unconventional kind of interaction with their neighbor. Or, at the very least, one that Jake attempted to hide really well.

"I'd love to stay and help, but I've got to go to work. Maybe wait on the heavier tasks till I'm back home, and set up what you can until then," Andrew suggested, a hint of regret in his voice as duty called him away.

Jake nodded, a teasing grin playing on his lips. "Sure thing, babe. I'll leave the heavy lifting for when my strong man is back in action." He winked playfully, earning a chuckle from Andrew.

As Andrew prepared to head out the door, Jake couldn't resist a mischievous comment, "Thinking of greeting our neighbors later. You know, being the friendly new guy in the building."

Andrew shot him a sidelong glance, his lips curling into a smirk. "Just don't get into any trouble. And no overly friendly offers, alright?" he quipped.

Jake feigned innocence, a twinkle in his eye. "Who, me? Never!" he teased, giving Andrew a quick peck on the cheek before sending him off to work with a playful swat on the butt. "Hey, I just want to make sure we're on good terms with everyone around here. Plus, who knows, maybe they're super cool."

With a peck on Jake's cheek, Andrew replied, "Alright, social butterfly. Do us proud. See you later, okay?"

"Sure thing. Have a good day at work!" Jake replied, continuing the mundane task of unboxing their many sentimental objects for the next hour.

Jake took a moment in the shiny new bathroom, adjusting his hair and shirt. He wanted to make a good first impression, not just for himself but also for Andrew. With a deep breath, he looked at himself in the mirror, nodding as if giving himself a mental pep talk.

Feeling ready, Jake strolled out of the apartment, locking the door behind him, and headed for the next door. It felt a bit odd, making the rounds so soon, but he figured it was better to know his neighbors sooner rather than later.

Arriving at the door, he took another moment, clearing his throat and then knocked twice. The anticipation was a mix of nerves and excitement, not knowing who would answer the door.

The door creaked open, revealing a man with a dad bod, dressed in a blue gym shirt that depicted a muscular guy lifting, paired with black shorts. The shirt hugged his form in a way that accentuated his physique rather than hiding it, and the casual attire only added to the relaxed charm he exuded. This was Thomas, the neighbor Jake was about to get to know.

"Hey there!" Thomas greeted, a friendly smile on his face. "You must be the new neighbor. I'm Thomas." He extended a hand, a firm handshake revealing the calluses of someone who might hit the gym often.

"Jake," he replied, returning the handshake. "Nice to meet you, Thomas."

Thomas chuckled a bit, the friendly tone still lingering. "Likewise, Jake. So, what brings you to this side of the building?"

Jake shifted slightly, feeling a bit shy under Thomas's friendly gaze. "Just moved in with my boyfriend, Andrew, next door. Thought I'd say hi to the neighbors."

"Ah, the happy couple! Welcome to the neighborhood," Thomas said, rubbing his chin playfully. "You know, you're lucky to have me as a neighbor. I'm like the unofficial welcoming committee around here."

Jake grinned, finding Thomas's confidence oddly endearing. "Well, lucky us then. Thanks for the warm welcome."

Thomas leaned against the door frame, his demeanor casual but with a hint of self-assuredness. "No problem at all. Say, why don't you come in? I was just about to make some tea. A little neighborly chat won't hurt."

Jake hesitated for a moment but couldn't resist the friendly offer. "Sure, why not? Tea sounds good."

The apartment had a pleasant aroma of warmth and familiarity as Thomas led Jake in. It was a cozy space with an inviting feel, making Jake feel a bit more at ease. Thomas moved effortlessly to the small kitchenette, pulling out two cups and preparing tea.

"Here you go, Jake," Thomas said, handing over one of the steaming cups. "I've got a knack for tea, so enjoy."

"Thanks," Jake replied, taking a sip, the warmth of the tea comforting in his hands. "You've got a nice place here."

Thomas grinned, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Yeah, it's my little bachelor pad. Not as neat as it could be, but it's home."

They exchanged pleasantries, Jake finding himself drawn to Thomas's charismatic demeanor. The conversation flowed easily, with Thomas expressing genuine interest in getting to know his new neighbor. At one point, Jake couldn't help but voice a thought that had been lingering in his mind.

"You know, Thomas, you're a pretty interesting guy," Jake said, a playful glint in his eyes. "And, well, quite attractive."

Thomas's response was a cocky smirk, as if he'd expected the compliment. "I get that a lot, and for good reason."

Jake blushed slightly, his admission out in the open. "I hope I'm not being too forward or anything. It's just, you seem like a cool guy."

Thomas chuckled, the cocky edge still present. "No worries, Jake. I can handle a compliment. And cool? I'll take it. We'll have to hang out more, get to know each other better. Maybe introduce me to that boyfriend of yours."

Jake nodded, feeling a warmth spreading through him. "Yeah, that sounds great. Andrew would love to meet you, I'm sure."

With that, the conversation continued, the two sharing stories and laughter, the bond between neighbors growing stronger. Little did Jake know that the more time he spent with Thomas, the deeper his fascination would become. Jake couldn't stop eye-ing his neighbor's dad bod, and especially his slightly protruding belly, which was cozy and inviting.

"What's up?" Thomas said, noticing Jake's attraction to his body and his extended silence.

"Say, Thomas," Jake spoke, his voice a little shaken and apprehensive. "I was wondering if you could… You know," He said, avoiding his neighbor's direct gaze. "Swallow me up?"

The revelation hung in the air, creating a moment of awkward tension between Jake and Thomas. Jake's request was so unexpected that even Thomas, with his confident demeanor, was momentarily taken aback.

"Swallow you up?" Thomas repeated, a bemused expression crossing his face.

Jake, realizing how unusual his request sounded, quickly began to backtrack. "Oh, uh, sorry. That was a weird thing to say. I just thought, you know, it's been a long day with all the moving, and I thought it might be a way to relax. Forget I said anything."

Thomas, recovering from his initial surprise, chuckled. "Hey, no need to apologize. That's definitely one way to unwind. But, you know, what about your boyfriend? Shouldn't he be the one you'd want to spend your evening with?"

Jake hesitated for a moment, glancing around the room as if searching for an excuse. "Andrew's at work. He won't be back for hours. I figured it might be a good time, you know?"

Thomas raised an eyebrow, the cocky smirk returning. "Well, well, looks like I've got some competition with your boyfriend's schedule. Alright, Jake, let's give it a try. Why not?"

Jake's eyes widened in surprise, the realization sinking in that Thomas was actually considering his bizarre request. He stammered, "Wait, really?"

Thomas chuckled again, approaching Jake with a playful glint in his eyes. "Yeah, really. I was beginning to think the tea in me could use some company." He teased.

As Thomas moved closer, Jake felt a mix of excitement and trepidation. Little did he know that this seemingly casual decision would set the stage for a series of events that would reshape the dynamics of their relationships in ways he couldn't have imagined.

Thomas's demeanor shifted, and a dominant aura enveloped him as he towered over Jake. With a wicked grin, he leaned in, his tongue emerging to sensually trace patterns across Jake's face, leaving a glossy trail of saliva in its wake.

Jake, caught in a mix of surprise and arousal, felt a shiver run down his spine. The dominant display was more than he had bargained for, but there was a certain allure to Thomas's confident and commanding presence.

As Thomas continued to lick, his teasing commentary echoed through the room. "You wanted to relax, right? Well, I'm here to make sure it's a memorable experience for you."

Jake, unable to resist the heat building within him, nodded in agreement. "Yes, I… I wanted something different."

Thomas, seemingly pleased with Jake's response, opened his mouth wide. The sight of those teeth, the expanse of his tongue, and the moist interior of his mouth created a mesmerizing spectacle. Jake, transfixed, felt a combination of excitement and anticipation.

With deliberate slowness, Thomas brought his open mouth closer to Jake's head, giving him a teasing pause. "Ready for the next part?" he asked, a wicked glint in his eyes.

Jake, feeling the heat of the moment, nodded again. "Yeah, go for it."

Thomas didn't waste any time. He extended his tongue and, with a deliberate and sensual motion, began swallowing Jake's head. The sensation was unlike anything Jake had experienced before—being enveloped by warmth, the pressure increasing gradually as he slid further into Thomas's mouth.

As Jake descended into the darkness, he couldn't help but marvel at the intimacy of the act. The feeling of Thomas's teeth grazing against his skin, the wetness of his tongue, and the gentle pressure surrounding him created a heady mix of pleasure and surrender, and he couldn't be more grateful that he had been forward with his request.

Thomas relished the sensation of Jake's head nestled within the confines of his mouth. The warm, tight space engulfed Jake, and Thomas couldn't resist savoring the unique flavors that each part of his captive offered.

With a deliberate and practiced motion, Thomas began the process of swallowing Jake further. His hands, which had initially rested casually on Jake's torso, now came into play. Fingers pressed gently into Jake's sides, aiding the swallowing process and ensuring a smooth descent.

The fabric of Thomas's shirt stretched as Jake's form traveled lower, gradually disappearing into the voracious depths of Thomas's mouth. The sensation of Jake's descent was hot, tight, and surprisingly intimate. Thomas's throat worked rhythmically, each gulp accompanied by a low, satisfied hum.

As Jake's upper body passed the point of no return, Thomas reveled in the feel of his buttocks. The firm, plump curves were a tantalizing delight, and Thomas couldn't resist using his hands to savor the moment. Fingers kneaded into the soft flesh, ensuring every inch of Jake was embraced by the consuming journey.

Thomas's thick hands squeezed Jake's buttocks inside his mouth, relishing the feeling of the soft flesh yielding to his grasp. The act was both sensual and commanding, a testament to the control Thomas exerted over the devouring process.

As Thomas continued the deliberate swallowing, the bulge in his throat expanded, signaling Jake's gradual descent into the depths of his belly. The once-taut fabric of Thomas's shirt now strained and stretched, barely containing the increasing mass within. The sight was both enticing and provocative, the visible contours of Jake's form pressing against the fabric.

GULP!

With each successive gulp, Jake's head popped beneath the surface of Thomas's belly, causing a noticeable bulge from the outside. The fabric of Thomas's shirt clung desperately to the expanding mass within, the tight material pulled upward by the gravitational pull of Jake's journey into the man's digestive abyss.

The struggle of the fabric against the growing bulge was accentuated by the relentless swallowing. Thomas's throat worked with practiced precision, each gulp drawing Jake further into the churning depths of his belly. The once-cocky bachelor now seemed entirely consumed by the act, his concentration evident in the rhythmic motions of his throat.

The tight shirt, now strained beyond its limits, surrendered to the pressure. With a final, audible rip, the fabric gave way, exposing Thomas's expanding midsection. The bulge, no longer restrained by clothing, continued its ascent, offering a visual spectacle of Jake's gradual submersion into Thomas's digestive embrace.

Thomas's belly was much more pronounced with Jake entirely swallowed up, showcasing his curled up form beneath the bachelor's muscles. He rubbed his belly, moaning, as he let out a huge burp.

BuuuUuUuUuUuUrPPP!!

Thomas grinned, running a hand over his now exposed belly, the remnants of his torn shirt hanging from his waistband. "Well, shit, there goes my favorite gym shirt. And I thought it was tear-resistant. You owe me a new one."

He looked down at Jake's bulge inside him, the corners of his mouth curling up mischievously. "But, you know, it's worth it, just to have you all cozy in there, buddy."

Thomas reclined on his couch, feeling the subtle weight of Jake nestled within him. The torn shirt hung around his waist as a makeshift reminder of their unusual encounter. He ran a hand over his rounded belly, savoring the comforting fullness.

As hours passed, Jake found a peculiar coziness within Thomas's belly. His words, though muffled by the fleshy confines, conveyed a sense of contentment. "So damn cozy in here," Jake's voice reverberated, the sounds dulled by the warm expanse of Thomas's belly.

The bachelor lounged, occasionally shifting in a way that cradled Jake further within him. Thomas chuckled, responding to the muffled remarks. "Yeah? Glad you're enjoying it, buddy. Just chill. We got time, and let me know when that boyfriend of yours is about to come."

Hours drifted lazily by as Thomas continued to chill on his couch, occasionally rubbing his belly as if patting a pet that lay within. Jake, within the comfortable confines of Thomas's belly, began to squirm subtly. His muffled sounds conveyed a sense of restlessness.

Jake's voice was muffled, the words barely decipherable but hinting at the desire to be released. Thomas, catching on, sat up with a casual grin. "Alright, time to set you free, little guy."

Thomas leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees, as the process of regurgitating Jake commenced. A low, guttural sound accompanied the motion, reminiscent of someone trying to force out an unexpected cough. As the first signs of Jake's reappearance became evident, a mixture of saliva and stomach acids accompanied him.

With a final, controlled heave, Jake emerged from Thomas's mouth. The dampened form of the once-swallowed man glistened, adorned with a sheen of Thomas's digestive fluids. Jake coughed and sputtered, the residue of the endosomatic adventure clinging to his form.

Thomas chuckled, leaning back as he wiped a stray droplet from the corner of his mouth. "There you go, Jake. Back to the land of the living, or at least out of my stomach."

Jake fumbled for a nearby napkin, wiping off the remnants of Thomas's digestive embrace from his face. He hesitated, glancing at Thomas with a mix of uncertainty and arousal.

"Fuck, that was hot as fuck," Jake admitted, his cheeks flushed. "Do you think, um… That maybe we could do this regularly?"

Thomas reclined on the couch, a cocky grin forming on his lips. "Regularly, huh? Well, who am I to say no? My gut's taken a liking to your round shape, and I figure I'd want to make use of this torn shirt again."

Jake, still catching his breath, grinned at Thomas. "Thanks, man. That was something else." With a casual wave, he headed back to his apartment, the door closing behind him.

In the privacy of his own place, Jake couldn't help but marvel at the wild experience. "Damn," he muttered, glancing at himself in the mirror. "Shower time before Andrew gets back."

Over the next few weeks, Jake found himself drawn to Thomas's door almost as if by an irresistible force. The frequency of his visits increased, and a peculiar routine developed—almost every time Andrew was out for work, Jake would find himself knocking on Thomas's door, eager for the sensation of being swallowed once more.

It became a clandestine affair, a secret passion that Jake couldn't resist indulging. The cozy afternoons spent nestled in Thomas's belly provided a unique escape, a refuge from the outside world. Thomas, despite his initial cockiness, seemed to enjoy the arrangement just as much.

Their encounters varied. Sometimes it was a quick, spontaneous venture, while on other occasions, Jake lingered longer, savoring the warmth and tightness of his endosoma retreat. As Thomas rubbed his belly in contentment, Jake relished the intimacy of the experience. The thrill of being swallowed, the muffled sounds of Thomas's surroundings, and the cozy darkness of his gut.

Each gulp, each audible swallow, became a part of their unspoken agreement. The torn gym shirt, now a remnant of many sessions, hung as a testament to their peculiar encounters. Thomas, ever the cocky host, reveled in the power dynamics of their arrangement. He would tease Jake with casual remarks, mocking him for how much he craved being inside him, how his gut's taking him from his boyfriend, and relishing the satisfaction of being the one in control. The muffled sounds of casual chatter, the gentle burps that followed, became routine.

One day, after weeks of their clandestine routine, Jake found himself stewing away in Thomas's gut. The familiar sensation of being enveloped in warmth and darkness was his routine escape from reality.

"Almost time for you to be out, bro," Thomas said, getting on his knees, preparing to regurgitate Jake, as they had done several times before. But, before the expected release, Jake squirmed in protest.

"Fuck, just take me," Jake said, his words muffled by the tight confinement of Thomas's gut, fully taken over by a surge of lust.

Thomas, taken aback, paused, looking at Jake with a mix of surprise and confusion. "You mean… like, for real? You want me to…?" he hesitated, gesturing toward his own belly.

Jake, caught in the moment of passion, nodded, confirming the unexpected twist in their usual routine. "Yeah, man. Digest me. Take me in. I want it," he muttered, his voice filled with a mix of desire and abandon.

The unexpected turn left Thomas momentarily stunned, but the allure of Jake's plea proved to be too intoxicating to resist. With a smirk and a shake of his head, Thomas took a deep breath and said, "Glad you said that, a few more weeks and I wouldn't have been able to stop myself from ending you whether you asked for it or not."

Thomas sat back, a casual air about him as he reclined, teasing Jake about the gravity of his words. "You know, bro, you just signed up for the no do-overs, no take-backs deal. You're in my gut now, and you're gonna stay there."

Jake, a mix of excitement and realization playing on his features, squirmed a bit, confirming his acceptance of the unspoken agreement. "Yeah, man, no turning back. I'm all in."

Thomas, with a mischievous grin, decided to take Jake's commitment to a new level. "Alright, bro, you signed up for the 'no more talking' package too." taking Jake's acceptance as a cue, tightened his gut, muffling Jake's words almost to the point of illegibility. With a smug smirk, Thomas leaned back, basking in the moment as he let out a colossal burp that reverberated through the air.

BuuUuUuUurP!

The sound echoed around the room, a declaration of the new reality they had both willingly entered. Thomas, still chuckling casually, patted his slightly bulging belly, sealing the unspoken contract between them. The muffled, indistinct sounds from within only served to emphasize the intimate connection they now shared.

Thomas glanced at the buzzing phone, a smirk playing on his lips. "Looks like someone's missing their boy, huh?" he teased, waving Jake's phone in the air. "Got a bunch of missed calls and texts. Your boyfriend's probably worried sick about where you are."

He chuckled, placing the phone on a nearby table. "Man, I wish I could see the look on his face when he finds out where you really are. In this big, bulging gut of mine." Thomas patted his belly with a satisfied grin. "But we'll let him stew in curiosity a bit longer. Gotta savor the anticipation, you know?" Thomas said, as he headed to his bedroom.

He sprawled across his bed, one arm behind his head, the other idly rubbing his rounded belly. The bulge from Jake's presence was noticeable, a testament to the intimate arrangement inside. He chuckled, a low, satisfied sound, as he felt Jake squirming within him.

"First night you're staying this long, bro," Thomas remarked, speaking into the empty room. "Better get used to it because, after tonight, you're not coming out. You're gonna be part of me for the last few nights of your life." He shifted slightly, getting comfortable, and let out a contented sigh. "Sweet dreams, man."

The morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on Thomas as he woke up, his gut still pronounced from the previous night's indulgence. Stretching languidly, he sat up, feeling the weight of Jake nestled within him.

Yawning, Thomas got out of bed and ambled towards the bathroom. The tiled floor felt cool beneath his feet. Leaning over the sink, he caught sight of his reflection in the mirror. With a toothbrush in hand, he began scrubbing his teeth clean.

As he brushed his teeth, his gaze shifted to the protruding belly that pressed against the edge of the sink. Thomas grinned cockily, aware that Jake was experiencing his morning routine for the first time.

"Morning, Jake, you good in there?" Thomas teased, speaking as if Jake could hear him. "Can't quite make out what you'd be saying, but I thought the gesture was nice." He chuckled, imagining Jake's muffled protests from within the confines of his gut.

Finishing up in the bathroom, Thomas got ready for the day ahead, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips.

As Thomas went about his day, the vibrations of Jake's phone periodically echoed in the room, a persistent reminder of the outside world that seemed increasingly distant. Each buzz was a testament to Andrew's growing worry and curiosity.

Teasingly, Thomas leaned back and patted his belly, as if saying to Jake that he's here to stay. "You know, bro, I think your body's getting a little softer in there. I'm known to have a rough digestion."

From Jake's perspective, the world inside Thomas's gut was undergoing a slow transformation. His clothes, once distinguishable, were becoming indistinct as they melded with the acids. The sensation was peculiar and, at times, disorienting, as his skin slowly melted; It was pleasant, it felt cozier than any of the previous time he's been in here, but it was still disorienting.

The muffled sound of Andrew's persistent calls and messages on Jake's phone served as a distant background noise, a stark contrast to the cocoon of warmth and semi-darkness that enveloped Jake within Thomas's belly.

On the second day, Jake's form inside Thomas's gut underwent a notable transformation. The once distinct features of his body were now indiscernible, a result of the ongoing process of digestion. The clothes that clung to him had long since lost their original form, merging with the liquefying remnants of Jake's physique.

Thomas, perhaps subconsciously or out of growing curiosity, patted his belly, noting a subtle change. The solid tautness that characterized Jake's initial presence was giving way to a softer, more pliable feel. The acids worked persistently, melting away the boundaries of Jake's form. It wasn't an ethereal or surreal process; it was the gritty reality of digestion, the breaking down of flesh and bone into a churning mixture, but despite that it still felt good to Jake.

The sudden, impatient knocking on the door jolted Thomas from his casual reverie. He swung the door open, and there stood Andrew, a mix of worry and irritation etched across his face.

"Hey, sorry to bother you this early, but have you seen Jake?" Andrew asked, his concern evident in his tone. "He's been missing for two days, and I'm getting really worried."

Thomas, wearing a hoodie that conveniently hid the changes in his midsection, shook his head. "Nah, man, haven't seen him. Sorry." There was an apologetic note in his voice as he subtly adjusted the hoodie.

"Fuck," Andrew said, seeming distressed and unaware of Thomas's gut. "Sorry. Just… Let me know if you ever do, okay?" He said, as he continued to the other apartments to ask his other neighbors.

Thomas closed the door and laid back against it, he couldn't resist a teasing smirk. He lifted the hoodie, revealing the slightly softer, bulging gut beneath. "All it took is a lift of my hoodie to show him where ya went. Too bad he'll never figure it out." he remarked, the cocky edge still present in his voice, as Jake squirmed inside his acid-filled gut.

On the third day, Thomas decided to hit the gym, his usual routine slightly altered by the recent addition of Jake to his physique. The once-toned bachelor now sported more of a dad bod, and a slight beer belly had developed, a testament to Jake's presence in his gut.

As he prepared for the workout, Thomas couldn't resist teasing Jake. "Well, bro, today's gonna be a tough one on you. Might speed up your digestion a bit," he quipped with a chuckle. "But hey, I figure I'll make the most of the gains from eating you. Gotta look more attractive when you're gone, right?" The casual banter flowed easily, as he got to exercise his muscles.

Thomas began his gym session with some heavy deadlifts, the weight clanging against the floor with each controlled drop. The impact reverberated through his core, the vibrations felt by Jake nestled within the confines of his bulging belly. With each lift, Thomas's abdominal muscles flexed and tightened, pressing against Jake in rhythmic pulses.

Moving on to bench presses, Thomas lay back on the bench, the pressure of the weights causing his gut to push outward. Jake, caught in the middle of this bodily symphony, experienced the compression and release as Thomas completed each repetition. Sweat glistened on Thomas's forehead, a testament to the exertion he was putting into the workout.

Transitioning to squats, Thomas's movements became more dynamic. As he descended into the squat position, Jake was subjected to the pressure between Thomas's thighs, a sensation that intensified with each rise. The fabric of Thomas's shorts stretched tightly over his expanding waistline, a visible reminder of Jake's presence within.

The stair climber machine was next on Thomas's agenda. With each step, the rhythmic impact resonated through his body, creating a gentle rocking motion for Jake. The pressure on Thomas's midsection increased, and Jake felt the subtle shifts as his surroundings changed with each step.

Finally, Thomas engaged in some core exercises, targeting his abs directly. Crunches and leg raises emphasized the region where Jake was nestled. The compression intensified with each repetition, the steady burn of the workout echoed within Thomas's bulging gut.

Throughout the entire routine, Thomas's banter continued. "You feeling the burn, bro?" he teased, fully aware of the unique experience Jake was undergoing within the confines of his ever-changing gut.

As the days progressed, Jake's once-solid form continued its relentless transformation within the acidic confines of Thomas's stomach. The digestive juices worked with ruthless efficiency, breaking down Jake's flesh and bones into a formless mass. The initial resistance of his physical structure gave way to the corrosive power of the stomach acids, reducing him to a mixture of liquid and dissolved remnants.

The process was slow and methodical. Jake's consciousness began to wane, his awareness slipping away in sync with the dissolution of his physical being. He became entangled in the chemical dance of digestion, losing touch with the boundaries of his form as the acids invaded every nook and cranny of his thick form.

The sensation was a paradoxical blend of pleasure and obliteration. Jake, in his reduced state, was suspended in a state of half-consciousness, afloat in the warm, corrosive embrace of Thomas's stomach. The once-distinct features of his body blurred into a formless, melted amalgamation, his essence merging with the strong digestive acids of Thomas.

As the dissolution progressed, Jake's thoughts became fragmented, his sense of self dissolving along with his body. The blissful haze of digestion enveloped him, a surreal journey into the abyss of being broken down and absorbed.

Thomas reclined on his couch, a self-satisfied grin playing on his lips. His fingers drummed lazily on his bloated midsection, now transformed into a softer, beer-belly dad bod. The once-defined muscles were replaced by a plump layer, evidence of Jake's gradual assimilation into Thomas's physique.

"Look at this," Thomas mused, patting his slightly flattened stomach. "You're almost all mine, bro. I've been digesting you real good. Your essence is now part of what makes me, well, me. Bet you can't even comprehend that with how melted you are."

He let out a hearty belch, the sound reverberating through his sloshy midsection. Thomas's arrogance echoed in his words, a mix of crass amusement and self-satisfaction.

"You thought you could handle being in my gut regularly, but look at you now. Just a sloshy mess, melting away into nothingness. And here I am, getting beefier, looking better than ever," he continued, chuckling at the thought. "You're practically my personal enhancement, bro. A little seasoning to make me even more irresistible."

Thomas shifted, adjusting his posture to emphasize the changes in his physique. The casual arrogance in his voice painted a vivid picture of a man reveling in the results of his unconventional dietary choices.

"In a few more days, you'll be nothing but a memory, a part of my gains. Can't say it wasn't a good run for you, though. The best thing you did was willingly dive into my gut."

Thomas stepped out of his apartment and immediately encountered Andrew in the hallway, looking disheveled and anxious. Andrew's eyes widened at the noticeable change in Thomas's physique.

"Dude, have you seen Jake? I've been going out of my mind looking for him," Andrew pleaded, concern etched on his face. "You know what, don't fucking answer. I know you would've told me if you had already."

Thomas feigned innocence, scratching his head. "It's good, dude. Jake? Uhh, not sure, man. I mean, I've seen a lot of people around, you know? Can't keep track of everyone." He said, "Maybe he ghosted you or something. It happens. But hey," He gave Andrew a pat on the shoulder, "I'm here for ya if you need me, dude."

"Thanks, man." Andrew said insincerely, wanting nothing more than to know where his boyfriend went, but still appreciating the offer.

As they moved further away from each other, Thomas couldn't resist a sly grin, his hand casually rubbing his now beefier belly. "Damn, Jake. Not a word to your worried boyfriend? Never took you for the silent type." He teased as his stomach growled, knowing that Jake wasn't in a state to respond let alone comprehend, only existing for a few more days before he's fully digested down by the bigger man.

#male pred #male vore #digestion #male prey #m/m #gay vore #endosoma #melting digestion #reoccuring vore #burping #endo

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pietropudge · 4 months

Note

Brenton!Dick Grayson is that hot teacher who's gigantic butt is constantly in someone's face whenever he bends over to help students and you look forward to it every day. You find out he's subsidizing his income by doing OnlyPreds in secret.

a/n — something short since I liked the idea (and Brenton is my favorite titan's actor, next to Ryan), may write a part two!

warnings — vore, not done to us. brief in this but lots of talks of preds and prey and a mention of disposal

words — 2.3k

summary — check the ask!

~~~

It was about that time again. Seventh period—your seventh Heaven. The last class of the day and the one that managed to fly by the fastest because you were actually engaged in what the teacher was teaching. Not because the depths of learning criminal justice in high school was anything life-changing, no, it was the teacher himself that held your attention.

His lesson had yet to start, choosing to do the rounds around everyone’s assigned seat to place their latest essay face down on their desk. You were one of the first to arrive because of how close your previous class was to his classroom, so he handed it to you personally, just as you walked through the door.

“Ah, there you are, the very last one I had,” he said in a way you could listen to on a loop. His hands were now empty, stilted as he almost didn’t know what to do with them. "Nice job."

Your paper had an A-plus and a one-hundred written in red pen at the top. Thumbing through the pages, he hadn’t marked a single thing incorrect with the red ink. “Thanks,” you said, taking your seat. It was in about the center of the class, not too far away from the front but also not off-center in a way that would make looking to the side become annoying. You had to think that, on some level, Mr. Grayson had a soft spot for you by doing all of this. Probably somewhere on the cushiness of his padded ass.

That was the real appeal of his class because he literally put the ass in it. Later on, when everyone filed into his classroom and he was deep into his lecture, he decided to break it off for some individual learning. And low and behold, he was helping the person in front of you who posed a question that must have had a really long answer, because Mr. Grayson bent over, his dark dress pants doing anything but slimming down his figure. His ass was looming over your desk, and while you had your head buried in the worksheet he passed out and the textbook needed to find the answers, you looked up to see what had turned had blocked your peripheral vision like it was the bill of a hat.

Lifting your head, it was his ass, shifting back and forth as he lightly shifted his weight between each foot. His ass swayed as a result, so hypnotic and so close to you. It was almost painful to know how unattainable he was. You wanted him but knew it could never happen. The only issue was that he was unlike the gym coaches, who perved on the teenage girls and even had odd relationships with the star athletes at school. Although, you were glad he didn’t run the risk of getting disbarred from every school within fifty miles of here, because you got to see him every day. Mr. Grayson kept a respectable sense to his actions.

Now, there were some things he did that were simply out of his control. You can't do much about being blessed with an ass as fat as his, so it wasn't really his fault. You were the one staring at it, thinking about getting his attention by grabbing it instead of raising your hand.

Before you could do anything, the final bell rang and you heard his voice call out a few names to stay behind—probably to discuss grades. Thankfully, your name was kept separate from that list.

Returning home, you can’t shake the thought from your head. His ass was so close to you it was almost like you could have dove into the navy blue depths of it! He had assigned more homework that was due tomorrow—a few online assignments with multiple-choice responses, nothing crazy. But all you could think about was him while doing the work. You needed to find release, fast.

A big fantasy of yours was the predacious nature of humanity. Some people could eat others whole, enough to define them as an entire subspecies in Mr. Logan’s biology course. School rules prevented predators from teaching at a multi-meal school of both prey and developing predators alike, claiming that it would interfere with the natural order of the next generation. By introducing older predators into the pool of newer ones, it would run the risk of diminishing predators too weak to fight back against their own kind and prey from society—where it was anyone’s game. It’s why disappearances at school were common, the occasional high-school sweethearts that surfaced being forever in love as one of them would eat the other during their first kiss.

Regardless of the rules, you still imagined that Mr. Grayson had gotten such a fat ass from doing the work, the hard work of swallowing prey like you. While your imagination could carry the session, you just needed a little video to kickstart the fantasy. Opening a new tab next to Mr. Grayson’s preferred site to manage online assignments, you started a search for amateur vore videos. Gulper, BestBelches, and even PornHub barely had anything new that you hadn’t seen already. It seemed that everyone was getting greedy with their recently documented meals. You went to the last site you could think of—Twitter, home to original amateur vore videos, if you knew where to look, that is. A new video was making the rounds through a few accounts you followed and the video happened to land on your timeline, and it was damn near perfect to what you were looking for.

The start of the video was nothing special, a man walks into frame, his thick thighs and general figure reminding you of someone that you couldn’t quite think of. It wasn’t until his ass came into the picture, the cheeks thick and coated with a light smattering of hair that acted as the draped curtains to a head sticking up his ass. That’s when it hit you—this guy looked like Mr.Grayson from behind! Down to the tufts of hair peeking out at the top of the video, his head cut off to keep himself anonymous. The narrow torso leading to his wide ass was also of note, a reminder of the way that Mr. Grayson’s dress pants often struggled to contain him in the ways that mattered. He was standing near a balcony, looking out proudly over the city in front of him. The caption read something generic like, “what a great view.” But it clearly wasn’t the original video.

In the bottom-lefthand corner of the video was a watermark, a link to an OnlyPreds account called TeachingLessons. It didn’t align with the username of whoever posted it, so this must be a teaser for something more. You knew how these things worked and you needed to see the whole video and whatever else was posted on his account. There was a small part of you that hoped that the account didn’t belong to a snack like that guy as you searched for it… you had subscribed to a few too many OnlyPreds that were one-off accounts made to look like they’re run by predators but are actually just posted by the consumer to help the prey out. Whether that money goes to a family member or possibly used to pay back debts, you didn’t know. All you knew was that you got to see one really good video for a steep price without even learning who the predator was, so it was some high-level scam. Hopefully, this was an actual, regular poster that you could imagine as Mr. Grayson in so many different positions. You made the account using your real first and last name but fudging some other details like making your username a combination of random numbers and letters that was unlike your gamertag or social media handles and putting the profile as a random picture from your camera roll that had no recognizable information in it. After going through the painful steps of creating an account and paying for his OnlyPreds, you were free to check out all of his posts.

The most recent post was the video you had seen on Twitter, but it was marked at twenty-six minutes instead of just thirty seconds. You decided to save that for last, taking your dick out and stroking to everything else first, making sure that you had invested in something that was worth it. The rest of the account had videos of him belching, playing with his gut, sucking guys up his ass, and shitting them out in various restrooms and unconventional locations. There was no consistency as the houses all seemed to be the prey’s given how the location changed in each video, so there was an air of mystery that heightened your enjoyment. It made it easy to picture him in your bedroom, leaving you as a pile of shit on your own bed or ruining the carpet, morbidly reminding you and your classmates that you wouldn’t be safe forever.

After scrolling for a while, you ended up at the very last post. It was posted only about a year ago from today, yet there were well over a hundred videos filling this guy’s OnlyPreds. He must have been insanely active, and it made you wonder how much he ate that he didn’t record. You refreshed to save time because you were ready to form the final fantasy in your head. The site reloaded and his most recent video was back on your screen, the clip had sound, unlike the thirty seconds that barely fed your desires. This was much longer and drawn out. The men were both standing in frame at the start of the video, sounds of kissing and their hands roaming around each other, but the former was cropped out due to the anonymity provided. In the background, the window and the city it overlooked were still the same as in the clip you saw—the sun still rising in the early morning when this video was filmed. They slowly shuffled out of view of the camera, some noises of skin on skin and kissing continuing. Then, a deep sputter rang out as if the suction of a seal was broken. That’s where the clip of who you imagined as Mr. Grayson returned into frame, carrying the body of the other man behind him. His head was glued to his ass, a majority of it sucked between his cheeks and encompassing his neck. You almost expected the video to end, but it kept going. The man’s neck disappeared with a few heavy grunts from the man you were calling Mr. Grayson.

He was going down on the guy as the sun rose, the time elapsed to make it a more watchable experience. For all twenty-six minutes, you watched him fit an entire make into his ass. Well, not his ass, but it looked as such since his back faced the camera, so his swelling gut was nearly invisible until everything was almost inside. He had the feet of the man remaining, and you were at the twenty-four-minute mark. In just two minutes, the feet were going and he did a slow turnaround. His swelling gut was flashed to the camera, shaking violently and making a cavalcade of noise from its own activity and from the guy inside. He wobbled over to the camera, taking it off of its stand and doing a quick pan around his gut before the video ended.

Even after shooting a load, you couldn’t get it out of your head. There was a bit of hope going into the next day that Mr. Grayson would give your mind more material to work with.

At first, the day seemed to be amiss. Your favorite teacher would usually pass you by on the way from eating his lunch in the faculty room while you were headed to a different class and express some kind of friendliness, but he wasn’t there today. It gave you a bit of worry that there would be a substitute today, or, your worst fear, he was finally snacked on by a predator with an insane appetite. He did share with the class how he was single and still looking for someone, so he could have been eaten in a failed attempt at a date. Thankfully, your worries were put to rest when you walked into class. He was there with some nice khakis that showed off everything in the front and back.

But he never greeted you and never said anything about the online assignments you did last night—which were auto-graded and had a perfect score. In fact, he ignored you for the whole period until the end. He called out one name at the end of class, and you were dreading to hear who it was. Your name and it was only yours. You ceased packing up your things and stayed seated at your desk. A few students leaving let out an “ooh” or “ah” but were nudged out by Mr. Grayson as he moved them towards the door. He shut it and walked over to take a seat on your desk.

“Do you know of the site OnlyPreds?” He asked, looking down at you.

You were quick to spill out an admittance of guilt like he was interrogating you just as he had demonstrated before in mock trials, ”How’d you find out?"

He reached down, patting your shoulder before getting off of your desk. ”Try using a fake name when you subscribe next time."

"Are you going to...?" You could hardly finish the sentence, so he did for you.

"Eat you? Not as long as you keep your mouth shut. Those videos are secret, but they're proof, and if you have been paying attention in class... you'll know what they can do to me if they get out. Do you really want to see that happen to your favorite teacher?” He paced around, and even though he had threatened to silence you with his enormous ass, you couldn’t take your eyes away from it.

“No..." You softly let out.

He smiled at your obedience, "Good boy, you were always my favorite for a reason.”

#male prey #male vore #male pred #v.ore #v0r3 #vore x reader #v0re #same size vore #fatal #titans vore #titans #dc titans #nightwing vore #dick Grayson vore

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tabbytums · 2 days

Text

clenches fists. i love casual unwilling vore

A pred ordering delivery and when the food is delivered, they swallow up the delivery driver and take the rest of their food inside.

A professor nonchalantly swallowing a student in the first row and digests them during the course of their lecture. What? They were hungry and had to skip their lunch to finish grading papers. That student was probably failing anyway.

Someone taking a taxi and not having enough money so the taxi driver eats them. If they can't pay the fare, the least they can do is be the pred's lunch.

A pred swallowing the electrician/plumber when they arrived at the house, not realizing their roommate/partner had hired them to fix something. Oops.

Someone going to the gym and getting swallowed in the locker room because a pred needed their pre-workout snack.

#tabbygrumbles #soft vore #digestion #implied digestion #vore talk #casual vore #unwilling prey

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nightmarevore · 1 year

Text

I Get A Craving and I Wake Up For You

Size on The Side Verse, Info Here.

Rowan and Luke, Pred / Prey vore dynamic, Original Characters. Rowan belongs to @wonderful-bellies, Luke belongs to me. (Character refs)

Rowan and Luke think about the time they did a vore for the first time. (Part One!)

Ao3 Link

Read The Next Part Here!

Word count: 5,454

Contains: Soft safe vore, mentions of same size vore, g/t vore, g/t cuddling, fearplay, unwilling to willing prey, fugue state pred, guilty pred, one somewhat eager prey, extreme cuddling. endosoma.

Things had been very different in the apartment since Luke and Rowan had been on that hiking trip. Rowan had said that he didn’t want to mention it again, and Luke almost felt bad trying to not bring it up again. Your roommate revealed that he was a predator and needed to eat people in order to survive, and then after eating you, told you to keep quiet about it and to never bring it up again? That was absolutely ridiculous. Not to mention, the two of them had ended up being more lost than they expected. Rowan had traveled around that hiking path with Luke inside of his stomach for practically a whole day.

When Rowan got home and let Luke out, he told Luke they could forget about it, and then Rowan left to lock himself in his room…

What the fuck was that? There was NO way that Luke could even BEGIN to forget about that. From the time he spent inside Rowan’s stomach, to the time they spent actually TALKING to each other like that, it was… kind of nice, if he had to have an opinion on it. Luke had spent weeks trying to force his weird, grumpy roommate to open up to him, and when he did, it was because of some weird, obscure biology thing that Luke had only heard about vaguely.

Since then, Rowan locked himself in his room, only coming out to grab something from the kitchen, to work, or to go to the gym. He seemingly was avoiding Luke now more than ever. How very, very annoying.

It didn’t help that Luke found it so relaxing while he sat in Rowan’s stomach. Despite the situation of being stranded on a hiking trail with no sense of direction, Luke was locked away in Rowan’s stomach. The organ was soft, warm, and he had been so close to Rowan that he was quite literally INSIDE of him.

It did nothing to subside the aggressive, possibly one-sided crush that he had on his predator of a roommate.

Now, when he found his mind straying towards his feelings for Rowan, his mind showed him images of Rowan’s open maw as he stared straight down his throat. The image of Rowan’s mouth enveloping his head and aggressively swallowing him down out of sheer desperation. When it happened, it felt like time had stopped. The moment Luke agreed, Rowan was already attempting to swallow him down, yet all Luke saw when he closed his eyes these days was Rowan’s sharp, white teeth. The back of Rowan’s throat. Saliva that fell from his lips as the predator realized he was about to have a meal.

Oh, my God, Luke! Shut up!

The size-shifter slapped his own face as he realized just what he was thinking about. His face was hot, and he was incredibly flustered. If he wasn’t lying in his own bed, he’d be embarrassed and hoping that Rowan was nowhere to be seen.

No, in this case, Luke was wide awake in the middle of the night, his brain trailing off back towards Rowan’s fascinating “condition” as he called it. Why did he think of it so negatively?

Luke recalled saying nothing but positive things and reassuring Rowan that it was fine if he had to do it, so why? And why was Luke so obsessed with being eaten again? It was his first experience ever being eaten by anyone, and it being by Rowan, no less. Did it have to do with his crush on him? He couldn’t get it out of his head.

He couldn’t get Rowan’s heartbeat and breathing out of his head. The flesh that surrounded him as he rested inside the organ itself…

Luke slapped his face again.

***

Rowan’s stomach growled.

A hand that rested on his stomach balled the fabric of his shirt into a fist out of frustration. Of course he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten anyone since the hike with Luke, and regular food hadn’t helped at all, no matter how much he ate. How frustrating was that?! How UNFAIR was that? Rowan didn’t want to rely on eating people, he never did. Yet here he was, wide awake in the middle night, starving and thinking about eating his roommate again.

AGAIN.

Rowan had never wanted to bring up the fact that he was a predator to his roommate. He moved here to start over and never get close to anyone, and yet because of some stupid fuck up, Luke knew his secret, and the predator had never been more embarrassed. After finally getting back onto a normal trail and into Rowan’s car, then finally home, Rowan was okay to accept that this would never be brought up again, and he told Luke to forget about the whole thing.

It might have been a mistake to do so. Rowan found himself thinking about grabbing his roommate and swallowing him down again. Every time they made eye contact, every time Rowan could even SMELL his roommates sweet scent, he found himself wanting to shove him into his mouth. His stomach growled again as he continued to think about it, and the predator even began salivating. His grip tightened, and Rowan rolled over to his side and curled into a ball. The hunger was unbearable.

To eat Luke again. His perfectly freckled face. The size-shifter’s sweet flavor and smell. The way that the man filled his stomach up and had such a nice weight in his belly… The fact that he could easily make out the figure of Luke inside of him. The after taste of Luke’s flavor that remained on his tongue even after the final swallow. Feeling his prey shift, settle, and fill him up from the inside.

If he was being honest with himself, Luke was the best meal he’d ever had.

And now here he was, unable to sleep, and obsessing over the idea of eating his roommate again.

This was so fucking stupid. Nobody was supposed to know about this. He hated the fact that he was a predator. Luke must think he’s some sort of freak. If he was in Luke’s shoes, he would think he was a monster.

If only he could have Luke inside of him again. If only he could feel the sensation of him sliding down his throat and settling in his stomach. Rowan’s hand loosened, and he instead rests his hand on top of his stomach. God, he was so hungry. The best he could do was to just not think about it. If he avoided Luke enough, then maybe this craving would go away?

There was only one way to find out…

Luke hadn’t slept. No, he was awake, and he had no idea how long he had been laying in bed for. When he rolled over and reached for his phone, the time read 12:42 p.m.

Fuck… He really hadn’t noticed the passage of time with the pillow on his head. An attempt to emulate the tightness of Rowan’s stomach around his head. The size-shifter sat up, got out of bed, and walked out of the room towards the shared bathroom the two had. He spent time to quickly get himself cleaned up. Between brushing his teeth to brushing his hair, he was practically all set for the day. He tied his hair up in a bun, not necessarily feeling like dealing with it too much today.

Luke didn’t know if he was going to see Rowan at all today. They only saw each other occasionally; still the same as before. It frustrated him so much. He thought they were going somewhere. It seemed like Rowan opened up to him when he was inside his stomach, so why did he immediately lock himself back up when they got home?

Luke, getting himself worked up about it, letting out a frustrated sigh as he rubbed his temples. Maybe he should just… Try harder? If he stood in front of Rowan’s door and demanded that he talk to him about what the hell this “condition” is, then maybe they could come to an understanding? Luke walked out into the hallway, closing the door behind him, then made his way over to the living room.

When he arrived, he was met with the sight of Rowan spread across the couch. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but it was a shock to see him out here.

What WAS he doing? Would it be wise to approach him?

Despite his better judgment, Luke made his way over to the couch, slowly looking over the sight he was seeing. Rowan was asleep, laying on his back. His face flushed as he realized that Rowan’s shirt was lifted, exposing his middle.

Oh, god.

( imagine what it must’ve looked like from the outside when he had eaten you? )

Luke’s face fell a deep red. He couldn’t stop staring at his middle as he got even closer to the sofa and the man laying on it. His eyes were practically glued to his skin as he imagined what it must have looked like when Luke had been swallowed down. His mind trailed back to the cramped space inside his stomach. The warmth surrounding him. The groans Rowan’s stomach made as it had him trapped inside comfortably.

Good lord.

Luke walked around to the front of the couch, and he kept his eyes glued to the sleeping man. He wished he could talk to him, but now, he got the chance to admire the man. It wasn’t a bad thing at all. Now, he could take in his features. The scars on his face were clearer now more than ever. He had to wonder, how did Rowan get them?

Luke crouched down to sit on the floor in front of the couch. He let out a soft sigh, green eyes shifting from Rowan’s face to his stomach. He switched between his mouth and his stomach on occasion, thinking about being inside of his mouth, then his throat, then his stomach.

Rowan was a predator. He needed to eat people. Luke was aware that people like this existed. Now, after experiencing it himself, Luke wished it could happen again.

After staring at Rowan’s bare skin for a few more minutes, Luke came to a decision. With a deep breath, he decides to shrink himself down. They had a moment of intimacy in the past. Luke could do anything to have it back.

Once small, Luke adjusted himself and took a deep breath. He began to climb up the side of the couch, digging his fingers into the seams of the fabric. Once at the top, Luke looked back over to Rowan’s face. He was still asleep. Good.

The little man silently made his way over to Rowan’s middle and placed his hands against his skin. He looked back over to the larger man’s face to see if he’d woken up or stirred. He saw no reaction. The man had to let out a breath that he didn’t know he was holding in. Looking back to Rowan’s middle, then to his face, Luke shifts slightly to pull himself on top of the man. He had to crawl over to the center of his stomach slowly to make sure that Rowan wouldn’t feel it and wake up. If he did, Luke would be in for a world of embarrassment.

His skin was soft even now, and it was hard to think that during their hike, it stretched out to fit his full body. Rowan said that he was almost able to make out the position that Luke was curled up in. He said that he could tell where his head was. He really, desperately wanted to know what it looked like from the outside. He had no idea if Rowan would ever indulge him. It was hard to figure out a way to even think about bringing up the idea of being eaten again without setting the predator off. He didn’t want to make him angry.

Now that he was in the center of the man’s middle, the tiny man crossed his legs and watched Rowan’s sleeping face again. Luke had always found Rowan very handsome. They never had a close moment together that wasn’t the hike. It was a shame. Luke’s crush on his roommate led to him wanting to try and get closer and closer with him, but the grumpy man refused to let Luke even try and start a conversation. It was so unfair.

With a small breath, Luke rolls his shoulders and leans forward, letting himself lay down on his own stomach against the larger man’s skin. He turns his head, placing his ear against the other’s belly. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Could he hear Rowan’s stomach from the outside? It was loud enough from the inside, but he didn’t know what it would sound like from the outside.

Like this, laying against Rowan’s skin, he found himself finally relaxing. He found himself practically melting into the cushion of Rowan’s belly. His once tense shoulders finally loosened, and he just focused on listening. It didn’t take long for him to hear a quiet, low groan from the predator’s middle. It was quite a shock, and his eyes shot wide open. His face shifted red, and the size-shifter looked up to Rowan’s sleeping face. He was still asleep, and he had to wonder what caused him to want to sleep out here in the first place. Was it because Luke was locked in his room all day that he came out here?

After a moment of watching Rowan’s face, Luke finally settled back down and placed his ear flat against the man’s exposed skin once more. Since he could hear his stomach, maybe he could lay here and pretend he was inside… That would be nice.

Another sound, but this time it was loud, long, and sounded almost hollow. MUCH different than when Luke was inside. It almost sounded like Rowan’s stomach was calling for him… That it desperately wanted him inside of it. It sent a chill down Luke’s back, and he couldn’t help but continue to listen intently. This… This was nice. Finally, Luke let himself close his eyes and felt himself doze off.

Rowan stirred lightly in his sleep, and his nose began to twitch as he smelled the air around him. A familiar scent filled his nostrils, and he knew that smell anywhere. It was what he’d been craving for the past week. It overwhelmed his senses as he focused more on it. He slowly opened his eyes, realizing that there was a soft, subtle weight against his middle. When he lifted his head to look down, green eyes focused on the figure. It was Luke, curled up against his center. Against his stomach…

Luke was tiny against him. How tall was he like this? He knew Luke was a shifter, but they hadn’t had time together for him to really see it.

His mouth began to water. Luke was so close. The weight of him laying on top of him made Rowan want to swallow him down to feel his weight INSIDE of him. If he ate him, the craving would end… If he ate him, he could keep him locked away… If he ate him, his Luke, everything would be okay.

The predator couldn’t help but drool. His meal had presented itself to him, and god he was so fucking hungry. His stomach lets out a long, aggressive groan. It felt like it could’ve echoed throughout the living room.

( Just eat, please God, you’re so hungry. He’s right here, just grab him. )

Absolutely ravenous.

Now fully awake, Rowan’s instincts take over. He needed to eat, he couldn’t hold it back anymore. No more hiding, no more starving himself. He needed this. He NEEDED this. Luke was a free meal, who was Rowan to deny a free meal?

Sitting up, the predator reaches a hand to grab the man who was seemingly sleeping on his middle. His grip was tight, and the only thing on his mind was eating his roommate. He needed this so badly. It would be fine, Luke would be okay. It was only going to be for a while…

( Or maybe you should keep him inside your stomach, that would help with the craving. He should stay there, don’t you think? )

Yes, he should, shouldn’t he…?

The sleepy Luke in his grip looked around, then up to Rowan. His face was red and picked, and though one hand was stuck in his grip, the other rested on the top of the predator’s hand.

“Shoot, I’m… I—I’m sorry, Rowan! Don’t… Don’t get mad at me, okay? I was just… I saw you sleeping out here, and then I couldn’t…” Luke hiccuped. He looked like he was about to cry out of embarrassment. His tiny hand gripped tightly onto Rowan’s larger hand. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I just wanted to…”

Luke’s voice trailed off. He realized how he was about to embarrass himself even further. He didn’t know if he should mention that he wanted to be eaten again.

Rowan’s grip tightened, causing Luke to squeak.

“Rowan, stop that hurts, I said I’m sorry! P-put me down, okay?” Luke’s voice was desperate.

Rowan was scaring him a bit. It was then when he realized that Rowan was drooling, and his teeth started to show a bit. They were sharp… Was he hungry? He almost looked how he did during the hike, but this time, he wasn’t entirely there.

The only thing on Rowan’s mind was how hungry he was, and how perfect Luke looked. He growled lightly, his free hand raising to wipe his mouth.

“Luke, you know, you… have a very nice smell. It’s so nice, it’s delicious.” He began, bringing the shrunken man closer to his face. By this point, it was obvious Rowan wasn’t himself. “I need to eat you so badly, I’m so hungry. You had such a nice flavor before. I need to eat you, I need to eat you…”

Luke’s face was completely red as he was pulled closer to his roommate’s face. As he spoke, he got a clear view of his teeth, and it was shocking, to say the least. He was so close to Rowan’s mouth, and this time, he wasn’t the same size as him. He was tiny and vulnerable in Rowan’s grip, and the predator was talking so desperately.

Earlier today, he thought about how much he wished he could get eaten again, and now here he was, in the man’s grip with his breath on top of him, and he was completely frozen in fear. His mind was practically blank by this point.

Rowan’s grip on Luke loosened, and his other hand picks him up from his hand by the shirt. His fingers pinched Luke’s shirt from the back and lifted him off of his hand. The tiny’s eyes widened, and he began to squirm and thrash around. His legs kicked the air, and he threw his arms and hands against the two giant fingers holding onto him.

“Rowan, you’re scaring me, let me GO!” The shifter yelled out. “What’s gotten into you? What is this?!”

The predator stared at Luke as he lifted him up, closer to his face. With his scent even closer to his face now, Rowan’s lips parted into a sharp, toothy, hungry smile. He continued to drool. His hunger would be sated soon, he was going to be fine. Luke was going to make a fine meal, he fit so perfectly inside of him in the past. The idea of eating him again psyched the predator up even more.

He couldn’t hear Luke’s words anymore. The only thing he could hear was his growling stomach and his own soft, hungry growls. He lifted Luke higher into the air, a smile remaining on his face. Rowan looked right up to Luke as he hung from his shirt. The predator opened his mouth wide, parting his teeth and holding his tongue out.

The two make eye contact with one another. Time stopped for Luke one more time. He had a straight view of Rowan’s mouth. Rowan had nothing but a cloudy, hungry look in his eyes. A gaze that saw nothing but food. Luke’s heart sank to his stomach, and even though he was looking at the exact same thing he couldn’t get out of his head just hours before, why did this feel so different?

Then, just then, Rowan’s fingers let go of the tiny’s shirt. Luke didn’t have time to process—he was falling, and Rowan’s mouth was getting closer. And closer. And closer.

Then he was staring at the back of the predator’s throat.

The anticipation of expecting the shifter’s flavor hitting his tongue was rewarding. Luke landed in his mouth, and his lips wrapped around him upon feeling the impact. His upper body was stuffed into his mouth, leaving his legs to flail and kick his face. His teeth didn’t bite down on the smaller man’s body, instead avoiding him, but his lips wrapped around his torso as his tongue explored the tiny’s body.

His flavor was exactly how he remembered it. Not only was his prey’s natural scent sweet, but his flavor? It was heaven. If he wasn’t so hungry, he would’ve loved to savor this moment.

Luke punched around inside the predator’s mouth. He hit his tongue, trying his best to avoid his teeth. They were so sharp, one wrong move and he’d get cut. Rowan had avoided scratching Rowan with his teeth during the hike, but now? He wasn’t sure.

“Don’t hurt me, don’t fucking hurt me, you idiot!” Luke yelled out without thought, adrenaline forcing itself through his veins.

Luke’s legs flailed and kicked as hard as they could against Rowan’s chin in an attempt to push himself out. Despite this, Rowan’s lips were very tightly wrapped around his body. Rowan’s mouth began to vibrate, and a soft, purring sound surrounded the shrunken man.

Rowan smiled, parted his lips, then began to push Luke further into his mouth with his finger as he rolled his head back. Luke’s head was just in front of the entrance to the predator’s throat, and below it looked like pure darkness. It obviously was much larger now that he was small, but the view was terrifying. Everything fell still.

Rowan’s purrs stopped. Taking a deep breath through his nose, the man excitedly but desperately swallowed hard.

Rowan pulled his fingers away as the tiny slipped further into his mouth, and he felt his upper body enter his throat. He began to purr at the sensation of his meal slipping into his gullet. Now that his prey was starting to go down, he didn’t want to stop. So the predator gave into his instincts, letting his body take over. He swallowed once more, pulling the rest of the tiny’s exposed body into his mouth. Rowan’s eyes closed and his purrs crescendo as more of Luke entered him. His lips curled into a smile behind Luke’s feet, saliva still dripping from the corner of his mouth.

Luke was so fucking delicious, why didn’t the predator commit to this sooner? Why did he take so long to sate his hunger? Craving him and refusing to indulge was way more painful than actually eating him.

Luke should be a visible lump in his throat right now, right? Out of pure curiosity, Rowan lifted his hand to press it against his neck. Though his throat vibrated with purrs, he could feel Luke thrashing inside the muscle that trapped him. Against his finger even more so. His gullet naturally tried to pull his food down, and he could feel the man slide down against his finger ever so slightly. However, some of his prey still remained in his mouth, and he wanted to savor the final swallow.

He wanted to remember what it would feel like.

He pressed his finger firmly against the Luke-shaped lump in his throat, and though he could hear muffled yells, he didn’t care. His mind and stomach were screaming at him to finish the job. So Rowan gives in, swallowing hard and loud. He felt Luke against his finger and inside his throat. The sensation of eating him felt out of this world. He was enjoying this, and God did it feel good to let himself indulge. Why did he feel so awful about being a predator?

He can’t remember why.

Another swallow, this time quick and sharp. He just wanted the tiny down and inside his stomach. He was so hungry. Just settle inside, please, please, please. His stomach screamed with another loud, hungry growl as it waited in anticipation for its prey to enter it.

( I need you inside my stomach, I need you locked away, I’m so fucking hungry, you’re all I can think about. )

There was a tightness in his chest as Luke slipped past his collarbone, and all the predator could do was take a deep breath and place his hand flat against the pressure. He let out a huff, instinctually swallowing to trick himself into feeling his food slide down faster. His hand slid down to his middle, anticipating the sensation of Luke slipping inside his stomach and filling him up.

His weight was so close inside him, and it was all he could think about. His roommate, his Luke, his meal, his prey.

The moment was obvious. It was warm. It was fast and it was filling. He felt his middle grow heavier as Luke’s head entered, soon following with the rest of his body. His stomach expanded underneath his hand, distending his stomach and making it somewhat round. Of course, he wasn’t at all as big as the first time he ate his roommate, but the curve of his stomach told him all he needed to know.

Rowan let out a deep, satisfied sigh of relief as all of Luke finally entered him. He pulled his head down, taking his hand off of his stomach, and admiring the bump that his roommate created. His green eyes were foggy as he stared at his exposed middle.

Most importantly, Luke’s taste remained on his tongue.

***

Being pushed deeper inside of Rowan’s mouth then aggressively swallowed completely winded the shifter. His arms and head are completely wrapped by the predator’s flesh as he was pulled down into the gullet of this… beast. This wasn’t Rowan. It couldn’t be. What had gotten into him, why was he not like himself? Luke shut his eyes as he thrashed around. Despite how tight his throat was, Luke tried his damn hardest to get the predator to snap out of this. This roughness was uncharacteristic. At least last time, Rowan tried to be gentle.

“Rowan, stop, I—I don’t want to be eaten like this, please, STOP!!” The shifter yelled out, squirming and attempting DESPERATELY to pull himself out. Of course, the throat had a tight grip on him. It was crushing. Suffocating, even. Tears began to swell up in Luke’s eyes, and he continued to keep his eyes shut as another audible swallow pulled him further into the predator’s body.

Something pressed against him from the outside, though he struggled to react properly. He couldn’t move at all, his limbs being pressed and held still. Luke didn’t want to open his eyes. If he did, he wouldn’t be able to see anything anyway. All he could do was attempt to get Rowan’s attention, but it was obvious by this point that he wasn’t paying attention.

( You got what you wanted, didn’t you? )

Another, quicker swallow sent him further down and squished him. The tight space was almost unbearable with how hard Rowan was trying to get him down. His predator had finally sent him sliding down the rest of the way, leaving Luke to be gently massaged and pulled further down, down, down…

A familiar sound grew closer and closer as he fell further down. Rowan’s heartbeat. Even the sound of his lungs and the gentle purr that surrounded him. With the swallowing over, Luke remembered what it was like before. Rowan’s heartbeat was calming and surrounded him. It gave him something to focus on. It relaxed him. Even now, it relaxed his body and caused him to loosen up.

That’s right, Luke was safe.

Luke finally opened his eyes back up, seeing nothing but darkness. That was okay. He took a deep breath, calming himself and letting himself relax. Finally, his hands felt the entrance of something, and the esophagus pushed him through, guiding the rest of his body inside the chamber. Warm air hit his face, and though it was spacious at first, the more Luke was pushed inside, the less room there was. He was forced and pushed into the organ, and it squished him from all sides. It wasn’t as bad as the tube that sent him down here, but it expanded with him. Finally, the entirety of his body was deposited inside the chamber. Rowan’s stomach.

He could hear a deep breath from above. Rowan sounded so satisfied. His heartbeat began to slow, and Luke was greeted by another loud gurgle that filled his ears.

He couldn’t move much, but the position he sat in was uncomfortable. He pressed his hands into the flesh underneath him, attempting to roll upright. Gravity was not in his favor currently, and if he remained in this position any longer, he might get a headache. Despite how hard it was to move in his resting place, Luke used his strength to flip himself, which was quickly followed by a gasp from above. Luke pushed himself the rest of the way up, finally managing to make a complete roll. He was quickly forced back down into place as his turn finished, and he settled into the roll of the stomach behind him.

Rowan’s purrs grew louder. Luke felt a pressure from the outside pressing down on him.

Rowan could feel and see Luke move from inside of him. His stomach fluttered. It felt so warm and nice, feeling the tiny shift around and settling inside him. He rubbed his round middle, letting out another satisfied sigh.

“Luke, you’re… so perfect, you know?” The predator begins, wiping the remaining drool off of his mouth with his free hand. He turns to his side, laying down on the couch and pulling his legs closer to himself. His focus was his stomach and the prey inside of it. “You’re so delicious, and you fit so perfectly inside of me.”

Luke was silent. He wasn’t moving anymore, but he could feel him sink down.

“God, I could swallow you down a million times, and it would be so satisfying each time.” The man’s voice is quiet, and he continues massaging his stomach. He was so full, he was so satisfied. Luke, his craving, his meal, was safely inside him, filling him up. “I love it, you know… I love feeling you move inside, I love the feeling of you going down. Your flavor is sweet, it makes me think of cherries.”

Inside, Luke’s eyes were heavy. His face was red. Rowan’s words and compliments relaxed his body, on top of the steady purring. His heartbeat and breathing rhythmically surrounded him. This was what Luke couldn’t stop thinking about. He may have been held in place by Rowan’s stomach, but it… was like an embrace. Rowan was hugging him from all sides, wasn’t he?

A tiny hand shifted and began to rub against the flesh underneath it. Luke took a deep breath, letting his eyes close.

“Rowan, I… I really love you.” The tiny whispered, realizing just how tired he was. He finally could let himself fall asleep. Surrounded by the sounds that echoed throughout his brain only hours before, Luke drifted to sleep.

Rowan continued to rub his stomach, purring as he spoke.

“My prey, my perfect prey. I think you should stay… I think I should… keep you inside there. Do you know how wonderful you feel in there? I was so hungry, craving you. It hurt. But now I have you, and I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to keep you locked away.” Rowan mumbled, beginning to lull himself to sleep.

He was still so tired. Now, he was full and happy, and so tired. He finally managed to sleep earlier before being woken up, but now? All he could do was lay here and fall asleep. He couldn’t help it.

“I can’t believe how delicious you are…” Rowan mumbled one last time before he dozed off.

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swappingbryn · 1 month

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Bulking season is easy when you’re a gay vore. I found a cute, slightly toned twink at the gym, invited him home with me, and *snap* I had loads of lean calories. He’ll add nicely to my body when I do my cut.

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

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tag 9 people you want to know better

tagged by my sweet honeybun @thyme-in-a-bubble

last song: vore- sleep token

last show: criminal minds (can't believe i didn't watch this sooner)

last movie: ready or not (13/10 recommend)

currently watching: criminal minds & the hunger games series (back on my dystopian bullshit)

currently reading: the ballad of songbirds & snakes- suzanne collins (pls send me book recs! i need more things to read!)

current obsession: weightlifting. i never thought i would be that person, but i've been going to the gym lately trying to get some sarah connor arms/shoulders, and seeing actual results is pretty fucking cool. i literally don't give a shit about anything else other than having buff arms.

no pressure tags: @albatrossandivys @andromedaa-tonks @saintmurd0ck @grippingbeskar @itwasthereaminuteago @shadesofsteve @spoodermain @yarrystyleeza @pleasurebuttonwrites

#tag game #tag games #court rambles

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urfavoritewriter · 7 months

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College Group Project - Part 2

Content: College Vore, Male Pred, Male Prey, Muscled Pred, Nerd Prey, Fatal Digestion, Unwilling Prey. Second part is about the hours-long digestion. Read the first part HERE.

Likes and Reblogs are very appreciated!

Max, still revelling in the euphoria of the moment, shifted his weight and tried to adjust to the new heaviness in his gut. Eli was no longer beside him, but rather, an unmistakable presence within him. The room seemed to have grown smaller in contrast to the impressive bulge protruding from Max's midsection. The silhouette of Eli's curled body was clearly visible through the taut fabric of Max’s shirt, his form outlined in the smooth curve of the stomach.

Max grunted slightly as he moved toward his desk. Sitting down wasn't as simple as it used to be. The chair creaked under the additional weight. With Eli inside, he had to spread his legs apart to accommodate the swollen belly, leaning slightly back to balance the shift in his center of gravity. He rested one hand atop the bulge, the other supporting him from behind, fingers splayed across the chair's backrest.

"Feeling snug in there, Eli?" Max chuckled, the vibrations of his voice coursing through his stomach, a tantalizing reminder to Eli of his predicament. "I must say, you add quite the weight. Didn't realize you were this… dense."

From the confines of Max's stomach, Eli could feel every movement, every breath his captor took. The walls of the gut squeezed and massaged him rhythmically, making any hope of shifting or adjusting himself futile.

Max's shirt, which was once loose-fitting, now seemed stretched to its limits. The fabric clung to the swell of his stomach, the seams appearing as though they might give way. There was a pronounced tightness around his midsection, the pressure from Eli's form making the belt on Max's jeans dig into his waist. The button looked like it might pop off any second.

"You know," Max began, running his fingers over the taut surface of his belly, tracing Eli's form, "I can't help but wonder how you're feeling right now. Completely surrounded, enveloped, unable to escape. It’s a bit poetic, don’t you think?"

He leaned forward slightly, the movement causing a tighter constriction within, making Eli all the more aware of his helplessness. "I hope you're comfortable," Max teased, "because you're going to be in there for a while.

With each futile squirm and shift from Eli, Max's belly rippled and shuddered. From within, Eli could feel the constant clenching of Max’s stomach muscles, making his enclosed space even more restricted with each passing moment.

“Ooh, a little fighter, aren’t we?” Max grinned, feeling the movements from within. “You know, all that struggling is only going to help me. It’s like you’re stirring yourself up, getting ready for digestion.” He chuckled, a dark gleam in his eye.

Max adjusted in his seat, the added weight and movement from inside causing him to shift uncomfortably. Every twitch and push Eli made had an effect. The tight confines meant that each prod was easily felt against the walls of Max's stomach. As he tried to find a comfortable seated position, he leaned back, spreading his legs wider to make room for the pronounced bulge. His jeans strained, the material digging into his thighs.

Reaching down, Max began to massage his belly, his strong fingers pressing into the contours of Eli's form. Despite the distension, the faint outline of Max's abs could still be seen, a testament to the hours spent in the gym. His fingers traced each of the muscles, emphasizing his control over the situation.

The pressure increased as Max began to squeeze deliberately, compressing Eli even further within the confines of his stomach. The sensation was intense, each squeeze forcing Eli to feel the powerful grip of Max’s innards. “Feeling the burn yet?” Max taunted. “My muscles aren’t just for show, you know.”

Eli’s muffled protests and desperate pushes against his fleshy prison were met with increasing amusement from Max. But as the minutes ticked by, and the initial thrill started to wane, Max’s attention shifted back to the task at hand.

“You know, Eli,” Max began, his voice dripping with sarcasm, “I invited you here to work on the project. And if you keep up this ruckus, it's going to be quite hard for me to concentrate.” He smirked, tapping lightly on his belly. “So, how about you settle down in there, huh? Give it a rest. Because either way, I have a project to finish.”

In the first hour, Max settled into a rhythm. The open tabs on his computer displayed articles, research, and data graphs. He found himself deeply engrossed, typing away as ideas began to flow. But every so often, he would feel a faint thud or a twist from within, reminding him of Eli's presence. At one point, he felt a particularly strong wriggle, which caused him to pause and chuckle. “Still trying to make your opinion heard, huh, Eli? Well, keep it down; I'm actually trying to work here.” With a smirk, he took a moment to stretch, his fingers lightly brushing against the top of the rounded bulge. The sensation seemed to still Eli, if only for a moment, before Max returned his focus to the project.

By the second hour, Max's stomach had grown noticeably quieter. The acids and enzymes were doing their job, slowly breaking down the intruder. Every now and then, however, Max would still feel a feeble movement. It seemed as though Eli, despite the odds, was holding on. Not that it bothered Max much. In fact, he took a certain pleasure in it. "You really are determined, aren't you?" he mused aloud, feeling a weak, fluttering push from inside. "But trust me, Eli, by the time I’m done with this project, there won't be much left of you to protest." He said it lightly, a hint of jest in his voice, but the dark undertone was evident.

As the third hour neared its end, Max's progress on the project was evident. Pages of notes, diagrams, and written content filled his screen. His concentration was occasionally broken by the slight gurgling sounds emanating from his midsection. The digestion process was in full swing. Eli's movements had dwindled to almost nothing, the occasional twitch reminding Max of his slowly dissolving passenger. "You know," he murmured, a hint of nostalgia in his voice, "I almost missed our little back-and-forths, Eli. But I have to admit, you've been a… productive motivator." He leaned back, taking a moment to glance down at the now slightly less pronounced bulge. With a sly grin, he added, "By tomorrow, thanks to you, I'll have a completed project and some added muscle definition. Not a bad trade, if you ask me."

The room was filled with the soft hum of Max's computer and the occasional rustle of papers. But as the fourth hour began, another sound began to join the symphony—a desperate, frantic movement emanating from Max's gut. Eli, it seemed, was rallying his remaining strength, making one final, desperate bid for freedom. Each squirm, each attempt to push and stretch against the fleshy walls, only served to make Max more aware of the life within him.

"Back with a vengeance, are we?" Max quipped, feeling the surge of activity. He momentarily paused his work, resting both hands atop his belly, feeling the contours shift beneath his fingers. The rhythm of Eli's movements, previously weak and intermittent, now came in waves of intensity. "You've got spirit, Eli, I'll give you that." Max mused, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk. But the smirk faded as a particularly strong jolt from Eli took him by surprise. It seemed Eli wasn't quite ready to give up.

By the fifth hour, Max felt a mix of amusement and mild annoyance. He had to adjust his seating position more frequently, sometimes leaning back to counterbalance the vigorous activity inside. He could feel every twist and turn Eli made, every push against his stomach walls. The sensation was… intense. More than once, he found himself pausing, taking a deep breath to collect himself. "You do realize," Max drawled, addressing his midsection, "that this is all in vain? But I do admire your tenacity. It's almost… commendable."

As the clock struck the end of the sixth hour, the once intense and frantic movements began to wane. Eli's energy was diminishing, the acids and the unyielding pressure of Max's stomach taking their toll. The once sharp jabs became mere flutters, then eventually, mere twitches. Max, sensing the decline, leaned forward, his ear almost touching his belly, listening intently. "Almost done there, Eli?" he whispered, his voice a mix of mockery and genuine curiosity. But all he got in response was a soft, almost imperceptible movement.

With a sigh of both relief and satisfaction, Max settled back into his chair. "You gave it a good run," he murmured, his fingers lightly drumming on his belly, "but now, it's time to finish what we started." As he returned to his project, Eli's once-vibrant presence faded, leaving behind only the slow, methodical work of digestion.

As the ninth hour approached, the room was cast in the soft glow of the laptop screen, accompanied by the rhythmic tap-tap of Max’s fingers on the keyboard. He leaned back, stretching his arms above his head, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. The project, which had consumed so much of his time and focus, was finally complete.

Closing his laptop, Max glanced down, taking a moment to admire the swollen belly that protruded from his frame. The gentle rise and fall as he breathed was punctuated only by the subtle gurgle of digestion at work. “Looks like I’ve finished on time, Eli,” he mused, giving his belly a gentle pat. "Thanks for the… motivation."

Standing up, Max moved over to the full-length mirror hanging on the door. Turning sideways, he assessed the pronounced bulge critically. “I guess I’ll be carrying you around for a few more days,” he murmured, poking the soft mound. “Maybe I’ll just tell everyone I’ve been indulging in a bit too much beer lately.”

Chuckles filled the room as he imagined the looks and comments he'd get from friends and acquaintances. "A beer belly, or rather an Eli-belly," he smirked, appreciating his own joke. "Either way, I guess we'll be spending a bit more time together."

With one last glance at the mirror, Max powered down his laptop.

#digestion #male pred #male prey #male vore #muscle pred #muscled pred #hunk #lean prey #nerd prey #betrayal #painful digestion #fatal digestion

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thatoneweebsworld · 1 year

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Caffeine

Just a little thing I wanted to write featuring @mysticcomfort's and @theprotectivepred's sonas, I love you both so much and the way you encourage each other brightens each and every day.

CWs: the softest and safest of vore, protective pred, apprehensive prey, anti-caffeine, super duper caring pred I'm so sorry I love you all so much

Griff awoke to somewhat loud noises coming from the other room, obviously the screams of a raging streamer. "Myst, it's three in the morning, got to bed." Griff sat up slowly and then opened the door to the office. The orca then spun the gamer chair to drag Myst's attention from the game on-screen. "Were you drinking Monsters again? What did I tell you about those?" Myst pulled at the desk to reorient themself to the keyboard, pressing a command. "I'm on stream! Thank god I didn't have my camera on, they don't know you're an orca!" They grabbed for the half-emptied can of energy drink Griff now held out of their reach. "Tell your stream you're going to bed or I'm going to cut it off." Griff approached the router's plug. "No, lemme finish this round!" Griff then unplugged the router and crumpled the Monster in their hand. "Go. To. Bed." Myst booted a single-player game. "I've got more where that came from!" They were about to settle into a cozier survival world, but felt their shirt hitch. "Myst, you're coming to bed with me. There's nothing you can do about it."

Griff opened their mouth and dropped Myst in, instantly swallowing once to truly hold them in place. "You're not going anywhere. Got that?" Myst tried to use the fangs to pull themself back out. They hadn't given in just yet. "No, I have one more can!!!" Griff swallowed again, this time harder and pulled the ginger in up to their neck. One more sent them down, squirming all the way. Griff followed the active lump with their finger, grinning with satisfaction. "Now we can both get some decent sleep. Don't worry, I'll let you out before I go to the gym tomorrow morning. Which is in... oh, two hours." Myst curled their knees up to their chest and glanced up. "Now. Go to sleep. You're not getting out." Myst finally settled in fully and felt the crash of not being on caffeine wash over them. Griff's heartbeat overhead only hastened this process. Griff lied back down on their bed, no longer plagued by the gamer noises. They gently wrwapped their arms around their distended middle, probably just a little too happy to once again be holding their roommate securely inside. Myst melted at the gentle pressure. "Good night Myst."

#extreme cuddling #soft vore #safe vore #protective vore #caffeine

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twistedtummies2 · 9 days

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Super Beanfest, or Harps & Monsters - Part 1 (Commission)

My last, long-delayed commission from the February round. This is an interesting one, because of how it's going to work: once again, myself and the commissioner are going to attempt to do a multi-part comm, spread out over the course of several months/rounds of writing. The commissioner is @clouddreamer101, for a very long time, they and I have had an idea for a multi-part story for Twisted Wonderland. The story has two basic purposes: introducing their OC, Harmonia (based on the Golden Harp from "Mickey and the Beanstalk") in a proper piece of writing, and also shipping them with my big lad, Billy (based on Willie the Giant from the same cartoon). The two have been shipped together by us for a VERY long time, so it's nice to finally write a full and proper story getting that ship sailing.

Oh, there's also some stuff going on with the canon cast, for the record, with the main focus being Epel Felmier. Because why not? XD

This is the first part of the story, and I will write the other parts with the other commission rounds to come. On that note, if anyone from that next round is reading this, I will be contacting you all sometime within the coming week. In the meantime...some boring stuff...

Rating: T (for safety's sake, above all else)

Disclaimer: All characters and settings from Twisted Wonderland belong to Disney & Aniplex. Billy belongs to me, Harmonia belongs to the commissioner, and the other OCs who cameo in this section belong to either one of us or to another user from Tumblr who, for the time, shall remain anonymous.

WARNING: This section does not contain any DIRECT kinks, aside from some macro/micro elements (if you even count those), but it DOES contain implied vore and other kinky implications. Later chapters shall be more overt, for the record; the rating may go up depending on how those future chapters work out, just for consistency's sake. In any case, DON'T LIKE? DON'T READ.

When will chapter two be done? Probably next month. Till then, keep your eyes peeled, boys and girls...and don't worry! More stories are on the way. ;)

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“Well! It looks like success at last!” “Shhh! Not so loud!” Deuce Spade clamped his mouth shut firmly and nodded at the hiss from Jack Howl. The pair were dressed in their Gym Uniforms for Night Raven College. In Jack’s arms, he carried an unfamiliar third party member: a small young man, with shiny blonde hair, and eyes the color of golden coins. He was dressed in a rather fancy-looking suit, as golden as his eyes and hair, with buttons that resembled musical notes. Jack adjusted his grip as he held the blonde youth bridal style; the wolfman blushed at the intimate position as he began to carefully walk off, carrying the golden boy with him. Deuce took up the rear; he was holding a pair of bean blasters in his hands. “Thank you,” whispered the young man with yellow hair, in a timid little voice. Jack just grunted noncommittally. “You’re welcome,” he grumbled, then smirked. “I guess even Royal Sword students can be helpful sometimes.” The RSA member in question smiled shyly. “Come on!” Deuce called out…then, remembering he wasn’t supposed to be so loud, dropped his voice to a whisper. “Come on, Epel! What are you waiting for?” Epel Felmier had paused at the rear. He was dressed much more extravagantly than his two fellow NRC classmates: garbed in a black beret and the red-white-and-orange getup of a Farmer uniform for Beanfest. The effeminate fellow looked upwards, biting his lip thoughtfully, large aqua blue eyes narrowed. Overhead, a towering figure loomed, snoring so loudly, the entire colosseum around the four shook to its foundations. The giant leaned back against the bleachers, hands folded over the upper curve of his big, fat belly, which rose and fell like a living hill over their heads. Epel’s focus, however, wasn’t on the titan’s face, nor on his gut: it was on the (extra extra extra extra) large leather boots the colossus wore. He saw that the looped ends of the laces were dangling low and long…and the feet were close together. A sly smirk crossed Epel’s face, and he crept closer to the giant, taking hold of the laces as he moved between the ogre’s feet. “What are you doing?!” the RSA student hissed in alarm, as Deuce and Jack watched with perplexed expressions. “Making doubly sure he won’t follow us,” Epel replied, and began to try and tangle the laces together into a knot. “I’m taking no chances. Just in case the big guy-” The snoring suddenly came to a short stop. Epel froze at the sound’s stoppage. He saw Jack, Deuce, and the RSA student all turn pale as a trio of sheets. “...M-Might wake up-EEK!” Epel cried out as the feet jerked to either side, and the laces he still held pulled him clear off the ground as he held them tightly in his hand, stretching him out. The tiny Pomefiore Poison Apple looked up… …And gulped nervously as he saw a pair of cold blue eyes glaring down angrily. The giant growled, snarling, revealing his rather sharp-looking, bone-crushing teeth…and a fat hand began to reach for Epel. Felmier gulped nervously, as the shadow of those greedy fingers overcame him. “...Oh, crab-apples…”

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Three Months Earlier…

“Pick up the pace, potatoes. Unlike that mangy cat in Savanaclaw, I like to be on time.” “Oh, oui-oui, Roi du Poison! We follow in your footsteps like carefree lambs!”

Epel Felmier rolled his eyes and repressed the urge to groan, as walked behind Rook Hunt and Vil Schoenheit. They, along with the rest of Pomefiore - and, in fact, the rest of the school - had been called into the Assembly Hall at Night Raven College. The auditorium was already packed, and more and more students were still pouring in, ushered by their Housewardens and Vices into the seats. Carefully but quickly, Epel found a seat of his own. It wasn’t too long till all of his dorm members were seated; Rook and Vil took the last two seats remaining, with the former immediately to his right, and the latter just beyond, each sitting straight and tall. Vil’s expression was one of cool, detached, business-like calm, while Rook wore his usual not-so-blithe smile. Epel looked around. He frowned in confusion as he scanned the faces - and, more importantly, the heights - of all the assembled students from Pomefiore. Someone, he quickly realized, was missing. “Pssst! Hey! Hey, Vil!” he whispered. Vil’s eyes slid towards Epel ominously, his expression showing a hint of stern disdain. Epel flinched and took a breath, realizing his mistake. “Um…e-excuse me, Housewarden.” “That’s better,” smirked Vil, and turned to look at Epel fully. “What is it, Epel?” “I don’t see Billy here with us. He’s pretty hard to miss,” the lavender haired young fellow explained. “So where’d he go?” Vil shrugged. “I’m not sure,” he admitted. “The Headmage called him to his office earlier today, and I have not seen him since. This was before he announced the Assembly.” “Not to worry, Monsieur Pommette!” Rook chuckled cheerily. “I’m sure Monsieur Geant will be quite alright!” Epel frowned, turning away from the pair thoughtfully. He wasn’t necessarily WORRIED about Billy: the shapeshifting ogre could easily take care of himself in many ways. If anything, Epel envied the big lug: he was somehow able to be both extra super manly and strangely adorable at the same time, a struggle the young Felmier was still going through. A small smirk crossed Epel’s face and he chuckled. He and the giant actually had quite a bit in common…but sheer size could not be one of those similarities. He wondered how Billy would have done in Savanaclaw… Shaking his head to clear it, Epel, straightened his posture (he’d caught Vil side-eyeing him again at his hunched seating arrangement), and tried to dismiss the matter. If Billy had gone to see Crowley, then he would probably arrive when the Headmage arrived. No need to be concerned, as Rook had said. It wasn’t too much longer till all were assembled. Finally, Dire Crowley - adjusting his gloves, top hat, and Venetian mask as he entered - stepped into the center of the auditorium stage. Using a simple voice-amplifying spell in place of a microphone, he walked up to the podium and gained the attention of the student body. All idle chatter ceased as the Headmage addressed them.

“Quiet! Quiet all! Listen, everyone! Can you all see me? Can you all hear me? Good,” nodded Crowley, when he was certain all eyes were on him. “Ahem…I’m sorry to have stopped classes so abruptly, but I have some major news, and given the…rather sudden nature of this news, I felt an immediate assembly was best called for. I’m sure all of you are aware of our annual Beanfest competition here on Sage’s Island, correct?” Mumbles and murmurs of recognition came from the students. Epel cocked his head curiously, wondering where this was going. Beanfest, of course, was an important occasion at Night Raven College: every year, the student body would be split into two teams - Farmers and Monsters - in remembrance of the legend of Happy Valley. The legend told the story of a daring farmer who rescued a magical Golden Harp from the clutches of a monstrous giant. Billy’s absence was now almost comical: he was a descendant of the ogre that had matched wits with the farmer those centuries long past. The size-shifting giant was very proud of his heritage, and got VERY excited over Beanfest. Epel shivered a bit, remembering how Billy had swallowed some farmers the last Beanfest, as a means of capturing them…watching the giant belch entire people out of his gut was not exactly a pleasant sight… In any case, however, Beanfest was still a few months away. Why was the Headmage bringing it up now? “Well! You’re all in for a special treat this year!” Crowley’s voice barked, as he clapped his hands together, a rather eager smirk on his dark lips as he spoke. “For this year’s Beanfest, we’ll be collaborating with our…esteemed rivals at Royal Sword Academy, for what their headmaster and I have decided to call… Crowley paused impressively, as if to build up suspense…then threw out his arms and cheered to the high heavens. “SUPER BEANFEST!” The chirp of a lonely cricket was the only sound that answered his booming cry. Crowley’s exuberant expression quickly cooled. He lowered his arms, looking rather embarrassed. Then a single hand shot up. “Um…Headmage?” “Yes, Mr. Spade?” Epel looked towards the hand as it lowered, to see a rather befuddled Deuce tilt his own head in confusion equal to Felmier’s own. “How is ‘Super Beanfest’ different from…well…normal Beanfest, I guess?” “Ah! I’m glad you asked!” answered Crowley, who sounded rather relieved that SOMEBODY cared enough to wonder. “That’s where the collaboration comes into play: instead of a contest between our own students, against each other, Super Beanfest will be a battle between the two schools. Now, things may be a bit confusing, so do pay attention: one student from Night Raven College has been pre-selected to act as a ‘Head Monster.’ Another student at RSA has also been pre-picked to play the role of the Golden Harp.” “Wait…the harp is actually going to be a person?” an anonymous student called.

“Correct!” Crowley crowed. “The goal of the Farmers will be to rescue the Golden Harp, as is usually the case, but this Harp will be another student instead of a simple prop. The Harp and the Head Monster will be stationed in a yet-to-be-disclosed location. Further rules about this matter will be explained in the future, but the important point to note is that the Head Monster must guard the Golden Harp, and the Harp must remain stationary inside the Head Monster’s ‘lair,’ unless accompanied by the Farmers.” “Interesting,” murmured a thoughtful voice. Epel wasn’t sure, but it sounded like the voice of Riddle Rosehearts. “So, our students will be taking the role of the Monsters to try and blockade Royal Sword’s students?” “Ah, this is where things get interesting,” said Crowley, waggling a finger and with a twinkle in his eye. “You see, my dear students…you WON’T be playing the Monsters, aside from the one Head Monster chosen. Instead, our school has been selected to play the Farmers.” “What?!” exclaimed several students at once. “We get to play the heroes saving the day?!” gasped Cater Diamond’s voice. “That’s totes cool! Ha, I’m gonna have to come up with some fun hashtags right away…!” “Please don’t,” groaned the irritated voice of Sebek Zigvolt. “When was this decided?” Vil demanded to know, his sudden call causing Epel to jump slightly in his seat. “When I lost the straw-pulling lottery to decide,” drawled Crowley, in a dry voice, with a drab look. He quickly brightened up again and went on, holding up his hands to placate the stirring students as he continued… “ANYWAY! On the date of the Event, a group of students will be selected at random to act as possible candidates for Team Captains, and the Head Monster and Golden Harp will select their respective Captains from the chosen pool. The Captains will create a general strategy at the start of the game, and lead whatever students they choose in the event: simple as that. The choice will be totally based on their decisions, and with our schools so separate, there should be no inherent bias on either side. Also, since this is the first Event of its kind - and as it has yet to be determined if there will be another like it in the future - the Headmaster of Royal Sword and I have agreed that all students will be permitted to participate. PERMITTED, but not required: if you wish to back out for any reason, you may.” “YES! THANK YOU, ZEUS!” came a voice that could only belong to Idia Shroud. Several people rolled their eyes, including Dire Crowly. “Anyway, All of Sage’s Island will be the battleground, and the teams will meet at specific ‘camps’ off the campuses on the island,” the Headmage went on, then shrugged nonchalantly. “Beyond all that, the rules are essentially the same. Farmers will take out Monsters using bean shooters, Monsters have to try and trap Farmers to keep them from getting the Golden Harp, and bits of gear and special uniforms will be scattered around the woods on the island for both teams to try and find. You all know the drill from there. So, are there any questions?” Epel immediately raised his hand. “Yes, Mr. Felmier?” Crowley pointed him out. “Excuse me, but you said you’d already picked who the Head Monster and the Golden Harp will be,” Epel commented. “So…who are they? Or is that confidential information at all?” “Not in the least,” chuckled Crowley. He seemed greatly amused as he grinned at Epel and the other students. “In fact, the Head Monster is someone you should know very well, Mr. Felmier. Someone everybody here should know! After all, even among our esteemed student body…” Crowley stepped aside from the podium, doffing his hat, as if introducing some grand circus act.

“...You could say he’s larger than life.” The instant those words left Crowley’s lips, Epel suddenly knew exactly who he meant. It all made sense. Why one certain person was missing from the Pomefiore group. Why they’d been called out of class earlier. And perhaps even why this Event had been arranged in the weird way it was. THUMP-A-THUMP-A-THUMP. Pounding footsteps seemed to rock the entire hall. Whispers and murmurs echoed through the assembly area. At the podium, a black and white tie was straightened somewhat nervously, and an indigo vest was adjusted as it clung desperately the sizeable, heaving mass of lard and muscle buried beneath the clean, constricting school uniform. Gapteeth were briefly visible as the absolutely gigantic figure at the podium - standing somewhere between seven and eight feet in height - took a breath and ran one huge, fat hand through their carrot-colored, crew-cut hair. Then, baby blue eyes sparkled as their expression became first a proud and challenging smirk…and then a beaming smile. “Hi there, Little Friends!” cheered Billy Geant, saluting everyone playfully. “I just wanna say one thing: don’t worry about when the big day comes. I promise…I won’t go easy on you.” Epel gulped. Beside him, Rook chuckled, cupping his chin as his eyes narrowed almost deviously. “Sacre bleu,” Hunt murmured. “This just got a bit more interesting…”

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Meanwhile, across the island, in the gilded halls of Royal Sword Academy, a lonely figure was walking through a seemingly empty corridor. The figure was a young man, just slightly below average height, though he seemed much smaller with the way he walked as he trudged through the palatial hallway. His slender, slim physique didn’t help much either; his thin framework bordered on the unhealthy in its leanness, making him seem even tinier than he really was. Ironically, the blue-and-white standard issue uniform of RSA he wore made him seem a little bulkier, in contrast. The young man sighed, brushing some stray strands of his blonde bangs away from his golden-hued eyes. In the corner of his left eye was a tiny birthmark; a similar beauty mark dotted his chin. He adjusted a small white hearing aid he wore in one ear, pausing in his dreary march to look upwards. As sunlight spilled through a stained glass window, it illuminated his soft, almost effete features, which gave him a somewhat androgynous appearance. “Why?” he groaned to the ceiling beyond, voice echoing slightly in the extravagant passage. “Just…just why?” “Why, you ask?” The young man let out a mousey squeak of alarm and looked around, rather startled, as a new voice seemed to croon into his ears. The voice seemed to come from nowhere, and yet everywhere. “Why is one of my favorite questions,” the voice continued to coo. “I’m also partial to ‘Who?’ and ‘Where?’ But ‘Why?’ It’s such a silly thing to ask…and that’s why I love it!” The blonde-haired boy sighed again, this time with some mild irritation. “I’m not in the mood for games right now, Che’Nya,” he grumbled, crossing his arms impatiently. “You-” PFBBBT! The young man eeped and spluttered as a tongue suddenly appeared out of thin air, blowing a raspberry into his face. He glared, huffishly, wiping the speckles of spittle from his cheeks one one sleeve as a disembodied grin, filled with sharp, pointed, pearly teeth, sliced its way inches from his face. “Spoilsport,” came a voice from the mouth, as a second pair of golden eyes popped into view a little over the grin’s crescent curve. “Come on, Harmonia! What’s biting your tail, huh?” Harmonia frowned and turned away. “Why should I tell you?” he mumbled. “You’re just going to tease me.” Che’Nya’s whole face - feline ears, purple hair, and all - appeared in thin air as he gasped with horror. “Me?! Tease someone when they’re on the brink of des-purr?” he punned, the disembodied catboy’s head circling around him. “What makes you think I’d do something like that?”

Harmonia just eyed the neko skeptically…then sighed and sat down on a nearby bench. “Just leave me alone,” he mumbled. Che’Nya’s expression faltered. He looked concerned…but only for a few seconds. The look gave way to a knowing sort of smirk, and the Cheshire Cat swirled into full view. He was dressed as he always was: in an oversized white uniform coat that hung loosely about his frame like an undone straitjacket, along with blue jeans dotted with badges and buttons. He sauntered over and sat beside Harmonia on the bench with a sort of brotherly smile. “Let me guess,” he purred. “You’re upset about Headmage Ambrose’s arrangement with NRC, aren’t you?” “I’m upset about being chosen to play the Golden Harp,” Harmonia replied, glumly. “Why?” Che’Nya asked, tilting his head curiously. “I thought you just said that was a silly question,” Harmonia retorted. “Oh, it is, but it’s also a fun one to answer,” grinned Che’Nya, and nudged him with his head, like a cat nuzzling and pawing at its master. “Come ooooon! Tell me! Tell me!” Harmonia half-heartedly pushed the Cheshire Cat back, and just grumbled, “Forget it. Go away.” “Awww, now that’s not very nice at all,” pouted Che’Nya. “Come on, lighten up! After all, you can’t very well protect Happy Valley if you aren’t happy, can ya?” “I’M NOT PROTECTING THAT PLACE!” Harmonia suddenly shouted, snapping angrily at the cat and leaping from the bench. Che’Nya jumped back, rather startled as the golden boy began to march away. “Just…I don’t want to hear anything else about Happy Valley, or Golden Harps, or…!” “Whoa, whoa, whoa! Turn down the juice!” Che’Nya exclaimed, and hurriedly moved to block Harmonia’s way. His own yellow eyes had become soulful and serious, a rare expression on the feline’s face. “Listen, I can tell when a person needs a listening ear. I’m the Cheshire Cat. I have all the answers…” He playfully tapped Harmonia’s nose, smiling anew. Harmonia squeaked and covered his snout, which made the cat grin wider. “...You just have to keep from getting confused. So go ahead. Lay it on me. If you don’t bite, I won’t.” Che’Nya’s grin made sure to show all his teeth on that last sentence. Harmonia bit his lip, squirming a bit…then sighed. “How much do you know about me?” he asked, timidly. Che’Nya shrugged and slung his arms behind his head lazily. “Nyaaa…I know a little,” he yawned. “Your family line is descended from the magic of the Golden Harp itself, and your Unique Magic comes from her power, passed down through generations, blah blah blah…guess your problem is you’re tired of being typecast?” “Something like that,” admitted Harmonia with a nod. He hugged himself and turned away. “It’s more than that, though. I’m…well…I’m scared.” “Scared?” meowed Che’Nya, raising an eyebrow. “Of what?” Harmonia looked up at him with anxiety in his eyes. “The whole reason they’re doing this Event is because of me. Well…me and one other student.” “Who?” Che’Nya asked, and then giggled. “I really do love that question. ‘Who.’ So many answers you can come up with, and most of them won’t be correct!”

Harmonia decided to ignore that random bit of weirdness, and simply went on. “Some other student at Night Raven,” he said, gravely. “And just as I’m descended from the Golden Harp…” “...They’re descended from the Giant.” Harmonia’s eyes widened. “You…you already know?” Che’Nya smiled oh-so-innocently. “I might have overheard the two Headmages talking to each other. Just a little bit,” he winked. “Then you should know why I’m scared already!” Harmonia said, exasperatedly, and began to tremble as he hugged himself tighter, rubbing at his own shoulders, as if he were experiencing a chill. “I’m descended from the harp, THE harp! And…and he’s descended from THE giant! It’s…it’s like putting a cat and a mouse in the same room, you know it’s not gonna end well!” “Well. That depends on if you’re the cat or the mouse,” smirked Che’Nya, licking his lips in emphasis. “What if he eats me?” whimpered Harmonia, ignoring the cat completely. “Or…or wh-what if he crushes me flat? What if I get stolen a-and taken away, l-like a trophy?” Che’Nya clucked his tongue. “What if, what if, what if?” he chanted in a nasally, mocking way. “Listen, Little Harmony, that’s one question I DON’T like. What’s gonna be is gonna be! There’s no need to get so worked up about it. It’s better to just decide to stop fighting it and go with the flow!” Harmonia scoffed. “Easy for you to say, you’re not the one at risk here. If there’s one thing my family drilled into me that I actually gave any care about, it’s that you can’t trust giants,” Harmonia replied. “They’re greedy monsters. They smell bad. Th-they eat people and smash them just for fun…” “Oh, so you’ve met them all, then?” Che’Nya grinned, almost tauntingly. Harmonia went silent. “Maybe this giant will be a monster, but maybe he won’t be,” Che’Nya went on. “You say you’re tired of people judging you just for being the Harp’s descendant? Well, how do you think he’d feel?” Che’Nya smiled with surprising kindness as he leaned down to Harmonia’s level. “Besides, it’s just a GAME, Little Harmony,” he mewed. “When it’s all over, you can come back home to school.” “Yeah, if I survive,” droned Harmonia sadly. “Gods, I feel like I’m a pawn on a chessboard. No, worse: I’m a chess king.”

“Nya? How is that worse than a pawn?” “Because the King doesn’t DO anything. That piece literally just exists to be captured so somebody else can win the game. The King can’t move very far in any direction and really SHOULDN’T move. It sounds important, but it’s…useless. That’s exactly how the rules have made me out to be.” “Hmmmm…purr-haps,” conceded the cat. “But there ARE still moves the King can make to help protect itself and win the game. As for pawns, they can become queens if they reach the end of the board.” Harmonia was silent, mulling that fact over. Che’Nya chuckled. “You know…in the legend of Happy Valley, the Golden Harp wasn’t completely helpless,” the kitty-boy recalled. “If I re-mew-mber correctly, she actually HELPED the farmers defeat the giant. They couldn’t have won without her. Maybe you should stop seeing your past as a curse, and use that legacy inside of you to your advantage.” The feline giggled. “Or maybe you can just sit nice and pretty and golden-goosey, and you’ll get by without aaaany problems! That works too, don’tcha think?” Harmonia looked Che’Nya up and down, as if he was trying to decide how serious the Cheshire Cat was. “I guess that’s fair,” he said at last, then gave a small sort of smile. “Maybe you have a point. And…well…it’s all decided already, and I’m the only one who CAN’T back out. It would defeat the whole purpose if I did. Might as well just…work with what I’ve got, right?” “That’s the spirit!” cheered Che’Nya, chucking Harmonia lightly in the shoulder with one fist, then smirked wickedly. “And besides, getting eaten by a giant wouldn’t be THAT bad for you, would it now?” Harmonia turned a little paler, and a slightly hysterical, nervous little laughed left him. “HA HA HA HA, you’re funny. No. Just…just no. Please, disappear now,” he groused. Che’Nya laughed loudly.

“You got it! I’m good at that!” he sang out. “After all, it’s what Cheshire Cats do best…” As he began to swirl away, bit by bit, Che’Nya arched an eyebrow sneakily and added: “What do you think Golden Harps do best, hm?” Before Harmonia could answer, Che’Nya had vanished into the ether. He looked around, as if to make sure the cat wasn’t still watching him…then sighed softly. “I guess I’ll need to find out,” he mumbled, and walked away. He held himself a little taller, trying to boost his own self-confidence. All the same, he still felt dreadfully nervous inside.

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The day of the Super Beanfest competition came. Epel Felmier was dressed in his gym uniform, as was standard. The schools had arranged a rendezvous point, midway between the two campuses in the woods. This was where the Captains Pools would meet, and the Head Monster and Golden Harp would make their selections. Epel was the first of the Farmer Captains Pool to arrive. Not necessarily by choice, admittedly: the young farmboy (wasn’t THAT a coincidental background) had found sleep difficult, and had woken early partially as a result. He was seated upon a boulder, looking up at the early morning sky through the gaps in the trees above. The Pomefiore student breathed deeply, allowing his eyes to slide closed. The smell of the trees, and all the rustic odors of nature around him - particularly of the sweet berries and other fruits he could detect somewhere in the green woods - reminded him so much of home…but the faint scent of the sea breeze, wafting through the bushes and brambles from the beach beyond, gave it a sort of ethereal quality one could not find in Harveston. Epel had come to enjoy it here, in the forest…which gave him some confidence he sorely needed. Epel breathed out heavily; not quite a sigh, but very close. He wished he could say the Captains Pool for his school had been chosen with strategic brilliance, and that he’d been elected as an option due to practical reasons of belief in his abilities…but that wasn’t the case at all. The same method that had been used to decide which school would be the Farmers and which school would be the Monsters (minus Billy and the Golden Harp) had been used to determine the Captains. Epel had just been lucky to be chosen. This, Felmier reflected, shouldn’t have bothered him too much: if there was one thing a certain sledding match had taught him, it was that he had the makings of a leader, and he’d always been one to challenge other authorities to begin with. But truth be told…he was worried. This was different, in his mind. There was a lot more riding on something like this. If he got picked, he’d have the pressure of not just a small team of people, but an entire school, heaped upon his shoulders. And if he didn’t get picked, then it would honestly be a bit saddening; he couldn’t help but feel such a choice would mean he wasn’t perceived as fit for the role, and he was very tired of being judged so simply. Either way, he couldn’t win. “Excuse me!” came a voice. “Are you from Night Raven College?”

Epel opened his eyes, and looked to see who had spoken. His eyes widened in surprise at the rather peculiar figure he saw striding towards him: it was a young man, about the same age as himself, but standing a little bit taller. The young man had blonde hair and curious golden eyes, which looked like the yolks of two expertly-cooked eggs in a sea of milky white. The fellow youth wore a hearing aid, but this wasn’t what made him seem odd: it was the very bizarre costume he wore, which was a rather fancy, somewhat old-fashioned-looking suit colored almost entirely in sparkling, glittering gold. The buttons on the coat and vest were made to resemble musical notes, and the cuffs and the trousers remind Epel of the bars on a sheet of music. Topped off with high-heeled (but still fairly masculine-designed) shoes, the newcomer cut was certainly a spectacle to behold. Epel blinked a few times, feeling he might go blind…then awkwardly nodded. “Uh…yeah,” he greeted, slowly. “Howdy-I mean, hello. My name’s Epel. Lemme guess: you’re the Golden Harp?” The newcomer smiled shyly. His timid demeanor didn’t quite match his over-glitzy costume. “Yeah, pretty obvious, isn’t it?” he chuckled, indicating his outfit. “Can’t deny that,” Epel said, with a smile that was slightly forced. He couldn’t help but admit he felt a little surge of bitter apprehension surge inside of his heart: to say that Royal Sword Academy and Night Raven College were rivals was often putting it mildly. The two schools were arch-enemies, and many NRC students would have leapt at the chance to quite literally pounce on the newcomer just for a lark. Epel had faced a few defeats against the rival school in the past, and wasn’t particularly happy to see the leading figure of the opposing team - the one who’d be choosing a Captain from his pool - so suddenly and alone. The newcomer didn’t seem to notice. He smiled in a friendly way and held out a hand. “I’m Harmonia,” he greeted. “Harmonia A’Cappella. It’s nice to meet you.” “Mutual,” Epel lied, as he shook Harmonia’s hand. The descendant of the harp smiled a bit wider, then tilted his head. “Hold on…I think I’ve seen you somewhere before,” he murmured…then his eyes widened. “Wait a bit! Were you in the VDC Championship? The one where Neige competed?” Epel narrowed his eyes and nodded. “Yes,” he replied. “I was one of the lead performers.” He braced himself for what Harmonia would say next; he expected some show of pithy pity or perhaps even a bit of boasting…something about how he shouldn’t feel bad, because he did good, too, even though Neige and his posse were SO good… “Wow!” Harmonia laughed. “It’s such an honor to meet you! I’m so sorry, by the way, you guys were ROBBED that year. Seriously.” Epel gaped. “...Wh-what?”

“Don’t get me wrong: Neige is a cool guy. I’m in his dorm at RSA,” said Harmonia, and rubbed the back of his head with a light laugh. “But, uh…I’m sorry, that children’s song over what YOU guys did? That’s just INSANE. You guys had so much STYLE! So much POWER in your voices! There was so much skill and so much emotion, and the song itself? That just…wow, that honestly really hit me in a good place. Right here.” Harmonia patted his chest in emphasis, giving a sympathetic smile. “You guys should have won. Not us. I’m seriously sorry the judges didn’t take your side.” Epel blinked a few times…then his smile started to become more genuine as a hint of pink colored his cheeks. “I mean…well…thank you! It honestly means a lot to hear you say that,” chuckled Epel, then smirked. “I’d expect the Golden Harp to know a thing or two about music.” Harmonia shrugged. “Well, I do, but it’s not necessarily just for those reasons. Honestly, I’m more experienced with classical stuff,” he sighed, sounding a bit disappointed as he sat down in the grass nearby. “I’d like to change that sometime. You’re so lucky, by the way.” “I am?” “Dude. You got to work with VIL. FRICKIN’. SCHOENHEIT. Do you know what I’d give to even meet him for two seconds?” gushed Harmonia, and smiled in a sentimental way, looking askance. “He and Neige…they both helped me in a time when I really needed it…” “Funny. The Housewarden never mentioned helping someone like you,” Epel remarked. “Oh, not personally. I mean…listening to their music, watching their movies. They inspired me. They made me want to-wait. Did you say HOUSEWARDEN?!” “Yes!” giggled Epel, enjoying the look of utter spellbound awe on Harmonia’s face. “He’s the leader of my dorm. That’s one of the reasons I took part in that contest.” Harmonia just stared. He was filled with admiration, his expression one of purest wonder. “Wow,” he whispered again, and laughed softly. “I’m a little jealous. You were so great onstage, too! It must have been fun.” “That’s, uh…one word for it,” Epel chuckled nervously, remembering the horrors of Vil’s Overblot behind the scenes. “I have to admit, one nice thing was that it was public: meant no one could make the mistake of thinking I’m a girl ever again, if they saw it live or on TV.” “Psh. Yeah, I can sympathize with that,” snorted Harmonia, and gestured to his own face. “I don’t get misgendered TOO often, but it’s annoying when it happens.” Epel’s smiled had become a real grin. He was quickly starting to feel he liked this RSA student. “Are you excited for the competition?” he asked. Harmonia’s smile faded, and he looked away. “Honestly, I’m…really, REALLY scared of meeting the Head Monster,” he answered, nervously, fingers fiddling around each other.

“I guess I would be, too, if I were you,” nodded Epel, then scooted closer with an assuring smile. “Billy is actually in my dorm, too, you know.” “Billy?” blinked Harmonia. “The Giant’s name is…Billy?” “Yeah, why?” “I dunno, just…I expected a giant to have a name like ‘Rothbart the Terrible’ or ‘Redjac the Ravenous,’ not just…um…Billy.” Epel snickered. “His name’s not the only thing that will surprise you,” he said with a merry twinkle in his blue eyes. “Trust me, you’ll be fine. But, uh…can I give you some advice?” “Huh? Oh, um…s-sure, what’s that?” “Whatever you do, do NOT piss him off,” Epel warned. “Keep on good terms with him, and you have nothing to fear.” Harmonia let out a very, VERY nervous laugh. “R-right, uh…ha ha ha…n-no pressure…” In his mind, the mantra of I am so dead, I am so dead, I am so dead kept repeating itself. “Well now!” a voice called out. “This is a surprise! And here we thought you were running late!” The voice was addressing Epel, who turned about, recognizing it. It was Dire Crowley, who was leading a group of NRC students - the rest of the Captains Pool - into the woodlands. The other options for potential Captains, courtesy of the random raffle, were Vil, Deuce, Jack, Riddle, Sebek, and Cater, who approached in that same order. Vil seemed mildly impressed (which, with him, could be taken as the highest form of praise), while the rest mostly seemed astonished to see Epel so far ahead of them. “Well, I wanted to be bright and early,” chuckled Epel in greeting, and helped Harmonia stand up as he went to greet his fellow classmates. “Hmph. And who is this human?” Sebek huffed, haughtily, crossing his arms and sticking his nose up, while the rest eyed the golden-garbed figure with curiosity. “This is Harmonia A’Cappella,” Epel introduced his new acquaintance. “He’s the Descendant of the Golden Harp, and he’ll be choosing one of us as the Farmer Captain. Right, Harmonia?” “R-Right,” stuttered Harmonia, and approached the group somewhat nervously. “It’s, ah…it’s nice to meet you all.” Jack and Sebek grunted, noncommittally. Each eyed the RSA student with a sort of dubious interest. It was clear that each of them was focusing on him as an opponent rather than as an ally, at the moment. The others, however, were thankfully more openly welcoming. “A pleasure, I’m sure,” Riddle greeted, politely, and held out a hand, which Harmonia shook firmly. Riddle smiled. “A decent grip there. I approve.” “Don’t think we’ll go easy on you, no matter which of us you choose,” Deuce piped up with a bold smirk. “We’re gonna save you no matter what!” Harmonia and Epel shared a look; the way Deuce said that made it sound like he was planning to punch the Harp in the face rather than rescue him. “Uh…well…thank you, I think?” Harmonia replied. “That’s such a cool costume!” Cater suddenly exclaimed. “Oh, you have GOT to let me get a picture of it! It’s so totally cammable! Can I? Please?” Harmonia, a bit overwhelmed, stammered out an agreement…and a few moments later was blinking camera flash out of his eyes as Cater snapped a hurried selfie.

“Awesome!” squealed Cater, eagerly tapping at his phone. “HashtagGonnaSaveThisLittleDude! HashtagGoingForTheGold! HashtagSuperBeanfest! Aaaand…send!” The other NRC members all rolled their eyes at Cater Diamond’s antics. By now, Harmonia had recovered, and was standing before Vil. For a moment, he just stood there, clearly unsure of what to say. Vil arched an eyebrow impatiently. “Well?” was all he said. “Speak up, golden potato. I can tell you’re busting at the seams, with the way you’re shaking.” Harmonia needed all his willpower not to immediately burst into an explosive squeal of joy. He knew that would never do. “I, um…I just wanted to say, I…I’m a REALLY big fan of yours, Mr. Schoenheit,” he said, timidly, and held out his hand. “You have absolutely no idea what an honor it is to meet you in person. Um…I-I hope you win. F-For my sake, I mean! Heh heh…yeah…” Vil blinked twice…then smiled, slightly superciliously, and returned the handshake. “It’s always a pleasure to meet a fan,” he said, honestly. “If things go well for our team, when the competition is over, perhaps you’d like an autograph?” Harmonia was astonished and delighted. His eyes sparkled like the Sun. “Oh! Oh, y-yes, sir! That…that would be AMAZING, thank you, sir!” “We’ll see then,” nodded Schoenheit, then gripped Harmonia’s hand more tightly and leaned forward, his smile somewhat sinister. “However, right now we ARE in a competition. I think it would be wise for both of us to keep our heads in the game. Don’t you?” “Ah! Oh, y-yes! Yes, that’s true! Um…thank you again, Mr. Schoenheit. Sir.” Vil chuckled softly, and released Harmonia’s hand. “You’re welcome,” he said, serenely but sincerely. Harmonia was still beaming with joy as he stepped back. While these introductions had been going on, Dire Crowley had been busy checking his pocket watch. “Well,” the Headmage of Night Raven spoke up. “The other team should be arriving shortly, as well as our Head Monster.” “Correction, Headmage Crowley!” called a somewhat creaky sort of voice. “The other team has arrived!” Harmonia and the Night Raven crew looked to see a group of students approaching from the opposite side of the woodland clearing. The expressions on all of the Night Raven students’ faces turned a bit cold as they saw the blue robes of Ambrose LXIII - headmaster of Royal Sword - and the similarly-hued gym uniforms that were worn by the students following close behind him. A few of the newcomers were familiar to the NRC students already: one was a young fellow in a green beret, who hovered over the rest of the RSA Captains Pool with a cocksure smile on his face. Sebek quickly recognized him as Matthew Satyr, who had bedeviled the NRC crew during the Scavenger’s Hunt competition. Another familiar figure was Neige LeBlanche, who waved cheerfully at Vil as he all but skipped forward. Vil responded with a cold sort of smile and a curt nod.

Others, however, were less well-known. One was a strapping youth with dark-toned skin, and long, somewhat shaggy, curly hair. A pin that resembled a sunflower was stuck into said hair, and from beneath the moppish top sprouted two curled horns and a pair of pointed animal ears. His mouth was filled with sharp teeth. His hands ended in long white gloves, which tapered at the fingertips, as if to conceal claws. These were barely visible as he crossed his arms and snorted like a buffalo; his demeanor was a perfect match to that of Howl and Zigvolt. Another had curious, pinkish skin, and brick-colored hair that was tied back into a long ponytail. He, too, had horns: they were colored sky blue, and resembled those of a Long. He had pointed ears, and carried a long, golden-tipped staff in one hand. His smile was boyish and slightly mischievous, a sort of sneaky gleam in his deep brown eyes. The other two appeared to be good friends, given how they stood very close to one another. One had a somewhat dopey, blithe sort of smile on his face, contrasted by blue-gray eyes the color of steel. His hair was a sort of honey-blonde shade, and his body was plump and soft in form. The RSA member who stood a little behind him, as if hiding shyly from the rest of the assembled people, had black hair that matched his dark eyes. His expression was somewhat dour, and a small bandage stretched across the bridge of his nose; another was visible curled around one of his fingers. Along with his gym uniform, he wore a sort of fanciful hood, which resembled the ears of a donkey. “I count six possible Captains here, Ambrose,” sniffed Crowley, somewhat snootily. “Where is your seventh? Or do you intend to volunteer yourself?” “Hardly,” chortled Ambrose, with a jolly smile. “I assure you, my seventh option IS present.” “Oh?” piped up Riddle Rosehearts. “Then where has he gone, sir?” Riddle stiffened as a familiar giggle entered his ear, and he felt a long, fluffy tail suddenly sweep across his front, curling about from somewhere behind him. “Gone?” purred a voice. “I’m not gone. Or then again, purr-haps I AM gone. Yet I’m still here! Curiouser and curiouser, wouldn’t you say?” The tail swept up, tickling Riddle’s nose and making him sneeze. As Riddle staggered in surprise, the tail vanished…then reappeared on a tree branch above everyone’s head. The body of Che’Nya soon apparated into view. Unlike all the other RSA members, he was dressed in his usual clothes, rather than a gym uniform. He was licking the back of one hand, like a cat grooming their paw…but stopped, twitching one pink-furred ear when he saw the looks everyone flashed his way. “Sorryyyyy!” he sang out, teasingly, sticking out his tongue and winking at Riddle, who gave him a flustered glare. “I could NOT resist!”

Some of the RSA members sniggered, while Riddle just grumbled under his breath. Cater shook his head wearily while Deuce rolled his eyes. “You all know him, clearly,” chuckled Ambrose, then gestured to the rest of the students with him. “Not to mention Mr. Satyr and Mr. LeBlanche. As for the rest, allow me to introduce Qiao Zhou, Paisley Burr, and Ivo DePrece. All that’s missing is our Head Monster,” Ambrose observed. “Then we can begin the selection. He IS on his way, isn’t he, Headmage Crowley?” “Of course!” harrumphed the Headmaster of Night Raven, and looked towards Vil. “You did tell him the time to meet us, didn’t you?” “I did,” Vil confirmed. “And Billy rarely disappoints me. Anymore.” “I g-guess that’s good to hear,” Harmonia spoke up. “So, um…in that case, how soon till he-?” He was cut off with a yelp when, suddenly, the earth beneath all their feet seemed to shake. Then it happened again…and again…and again. A sound accompanied each quake: THUMP-A-THUMP-A-THUMP! All of the NRC students smirked. They knew that sound. The RSA students, meanwhile, began to mill about in alarm: Qiao Zhou dropped into a battle-ready pose, holding his staff with a determined glare. Matthew Satyr, similarly, grabbed hold of his dueling rod, which he had brought with him. Paisley blinked and stumbled back a bit, eyes rather wide, while Neige yelped and held onto his hat, letting a startled squeak of “Jiminy Christmas…!” Only Ivo and Che’Nya seemed thoroughly unfazed: the Cheshire Cat was grooming himself and didn’t even appear to notice. Ivo, meanwhile, just gave a dull, almost bored, slow blink as he remained standing behind Paisley. Harmonia seemed the most frightened of all. He knew these were the footsteps of the giant he’d been warned of all his life: the descendant of the nightmare his family had once faced many decades ago. Already, his mind began to conjure up hideous images of what kind of horrendous beast could be approaching. He trembled, and even began to pray silently, as his heart beat quickened with every step…until, finally… CRASH! Two trees were pushed aside, and a mountainous figure stepped into view, looming over all as his shadow fell across them. Gasps of amazement came from the RSA students. Harmonia felt his heart catch in his throat, as he saw a giant pair of boots, covering feet the size of a couple of boats. His eyes trailed upwards, and he saw a truly tremendous body, covered up by the purple-and-green camouflage of a Monster uniform. Wide hips and thighs thicker than any tree trunk transitioned to a belly bigger than anything the Golden Harp had imagined. Muscles could be detected beneath the burly arms’ sheaths of blubber, and a barrel chest rested at the top of the diaphragm. Harmonia felt himself start to whimper, as he continued to look up, up, up…and into the giant’s face… …And at that point, his expression shifted, as he saw round, soft cheeks, a pair of bright, baby-blue eyes, carrot colored hair…and a happy-go-lucky gap-toothed smile. “Hello down there!” the giant called happily. “Sorry I’m late, little friends! Had trouble getting my pants on, heh…anyway, I can’t wait to play with you all! This is gonna be so much fun!” Harmonia gulped nervously. As those sweet, happy words and a surprisingly childish giggle filled the air, all he could think of was one thing. Oh, sweet Gods…he’s adorable.

“Mr. A’Cappella,” Crowley piped up, waving one hand between Harmonia and Billy respectively. “Allow me to introduce Billy Geant: Night Raven’s resident giant, and descendant of the Monster of Happy Valley. Mr. Geant? Meet Mr. A’Cappella.” Billy nodded, and smiled down at A’Cappella brightly. “Hi, Mr. A’Cappella!” he bellowed, and knelt down, holding out a single finger towards him. “Nice to meetcha! You can just call me Billy!” Harmonia froze up as that hand swept down towards him. He paused, looking Billy up and down carefully. The ogre was even larger than he had imagined, and he could practically feel gravity’s draw on his body. He glanced towards the giant’s belly, which sagged low and heavy, spilling over and across the titan’s thigh from its obesity. He shivered a bit, and then held out one comparatively puny hand, and shook the tip of Billy’s fat finger. The skin was warm. Soft. Clean. For some reason, that surprised Harmonia: with the way his family described giants, he’d imagined the the skin to be hard as stone, callused, horribly sweaty, or unpleasantly leathery in texture. He hadn’t expected it to be so…nice. “Th-the feeling’s…mutual,” he said, and smiled a tiny bit. “And, uh…just call me Harmonia, okay?” “Okay, Ammonia!” Snickers suddenly erupted from several people. Vil facepalmed. Harmonia blushed. “N-No, uh…it’s Harmonia.” “...Harmonica?” “Close! Close, um…say it with me slowly, okay? Har-mo-ni-a.” Billy nodded slowly, knitting his brow, focusing REALLY hard as he repeated: “Har-mo-ni-a…Harmonia!” “That’s it!” grinned the harp boy with a giggle. “See? You can do it if you try.” Billy blushed and giggled a bit. “Thanks, uh…H-Harmonia,” he said gratefully. Harmonia smiled wider, as he saw the big behemoth scratch the back of his huge head in embarrassment. He would have been lying if he said that he didn’t feel some trepidation, still, but…the giant didn’t SEEM ill-natured. If anything, he seemed…sweet, and even all that hugeness was starting to seem more cuddly than intensely intimidating. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad.

“Good morning, Housewarden!” Billy cheered, giving a respectful nod to Vil, and then a mock salute to Epel. “And hello, Epel!” “You seem excited this morning,” Epel smiled, somewhat teasingly. “Why wouldn’t I be?” Billy laughed in response. “Don’t expect us to be any less competitive, just because we’re part of the same dorm,” Vil said, warningly, crossing his arms with a smirk. “I expect you to do your best today, Billy. I shall be doing the same.” Billy smirked back. “Oh, trust me,” he said, and licked his lips none-too-subtly. “I’m not going easy on anyone. I promised you all that from the start.” “If the niceties are out of the way,” chuckled the voice of Headmage Ambrose, “I think it’s time we get this game underway. Don’t you, Headmage Crowley?” “Indeed!” boomed Dire Crowley. “So! Mr. Geant, you shall be first: who from this pool…” He tipped his hat in the direction of the RSA team. “...Will you pick for the Monster Captain?” Billy’s giant head swung around on his shoulders. It tilted slightly as he blinked his very large, baby blue eyes at the seven students from Royal Sword. Matthew and Qiao puffed out their chests with pride…then noticed each other, frowned, and tried to nudge one another aside, like a couple of schoolboys vying for attention. Paisley smiled in a dopey, dumb way and gave a little cheery wave (Billy waved back), while Ivo just blinked in a slow, drab way. As for Adam, he gave a smirk and flexed one arm, showing off the firm biceps beneath his gym suit, while Neige gave a friendly smile and a bow. Che’Nya just swirled into view on top of a nearby log. He smirked, rolled his eyes, and yawned, nonchalantly watching a butterfly go by. Billy immediately pointed a finger towards Che’Nya. “This one,” he smiled. “I want him!” Riddle blanched and sucked in air in a sound of shock, startling everyone else. Only Che’Nya and Billy seemed not to notice. The giant was beaming, and the Cheshire Cat looked astonished. “Me-ow?” he responded, pointing to himself, wide-eyed and surprised. “Yuh-huh!” Billy nodded enthusiastically, and looked toward the two headmages. “I want the pink kitty!” “Interesting choice,” murmured Ambrose, sounding intrigued. “Why would you choose Mr. Alchemivich, eh?” questioned Crowley. Billy blinked. He looked between Che’Nya and the Headmages, as if he seriously couldn’t get why they would even ask that question. His response was slow and measured, as if he were explaining to children… “Pink. Kitty. Do I need another reason?”

Harmonia had to bite his knuckle to keep from squealing with laughter. Qiao, Matthew, and Adam all huffed in disappointment, while Paisley, Ivo, and Neige offered congratulations to the Cheshire Cat. Every single student at Night Raven flushed with embarrassment. Several of them seemed to become very interested in their shoes, all of a sudden. Riddle’s expression still bordered on the mortified. “Yes…well…ahem!” coughed Crowley, who seemed equally flummoxed. “A very…unorthodox method, Mr. Geant. We’ll see how it serves your fellow students in the competition.” “Thank you, Headmage…I think,” chuckled Billy, scratching his pink cheek. “Now, Mr. A’Cappella,” Ambrose LXIII spoke up, stroking his white beard. “Would you be so kind as to choose your team captain from the Night Raven side?” Harmonia’s smile faded, and he turned serious. Tossing some of his golden bangs out of his similarly golden eyes, he looked towards the seven NRC members. He had to admit…this wasn’t an easy choice to make. Naturally, he had a bias towards Vil Schoenheit: a celebrity, an entrepreneur, a Housewarden…he had ample credentials. Then again, he knew that Riddle Rosehearts was a Housewarden as well; he’d seen him on television in the Magift competition. Deuce Spade, Jack Howl, and Sebek Zigvolt all seemed strong and hardy; Harmonia got the feeling none of them would be brilliant strategists, but they certainly had physical fitness on their side. And then there was Cater Diamond…who was snapping selfies of himself, winking and sticking out his tongue… …Yeah, Harmonia dismissed him immediately. But that still left six other candidates who could work out well… The golden boy’s eyes finally fell towards Epel. Small. Effeminate. Almost doe-like in appearance, with somewhat untidy lavender hair, and a light sort of voice. A smile painted Harmonia’s face, and he pointed to his choice. “I elect Epel Felmier for the Farmer Team Captain.” The other Night Raven students seemed utterly floored…except for Cater, who laughed and clapped Epel on the back with a cheer of, “WOO-HOO! HashtagCongratulations!” “M-Me?” Epel gasped, seemingly just as surprised. “Why me?” Harmonia shrugged in response, with a gentle sort of smile. “I’ve only known you for a couple of minutes, but I somehow feel the two of us are kindred spirits. Not only that, but you have strength and experiences that I’ve never gotten to enjoy. If I were to be in charge of a team, I’d hope to have a leader like you.” He extended a hand to Felmier. “I have faith that you and your friends will save me.” Epel blushed…but then a confident smile crossed his face. He shook Harmonia’s hand firmly and nodded. “You can count on me.” “I hope so,” chuckled Harmonia. “And so the choices are made!” Ambrose declared, clapping his hands together with a smile. “The game can finally commence!”

“Indeed,” nodded Crowley, and addressed both teams. “Both sides will be led to their respective main camps, where the participating students are gathered. The Head Monster will bring the Golden Harp to the Colosseum. The Captains shall be given fifteen minutes to select their aids and devise a strategy. In exactly a half hour, the hunt for the Golden Harp will begin. Myself and Headmage Ambrose will now lead our students to their headquarters.”

The two Headmages, having announced this, shook hands with each other (Crowley’s smile was extremely forced, Ambrose’s less so), and then marched off, leading their teams away. Epel cast a brief glance back at Harmonia and Billy before hastening off. Harmonia and Billy watched as the rest soon disappeared into the woods. The former gave a nod to Che’Nya, who smiled back and winked, giving a salute before swishing his tail as he swaggered off with the other RSA members. “Bye-bye, little friends!” Billy sang, waving farewell to all of the students…then looked down at Harmonia. Harmonia, in turn, looked up at the giant. They were now completely alone. Just the two of them. The Monster and the Harp. Nervous, anxious, fluttering feelings flitted about in Harmonia’s chest as he suddenly realized his vulnerable state. There were no Headmages, nor even other students, here to try and help. From this point on, his life was quite literally in the hands of the ogre. For a moment, he worried that now would be when the proverbial shoe would drop: when the titan would suddenly go from seemingly sweet and tender to showing his fangs (either literally, figuratively, or both). But instead, Billy just smiled down at him with a happy “little” look on his face, blinking his big blue eyes curiously. “So,” the giant said at last. “Are you ready to go?” “G-Go?” peeped Harmonia, backing up a step. Billy giggled and tossed his head indicatively. “To the Colosseum! That’s where you and I have to stay while I’m guarding you! Part of the game, right?” “Oh! Oh, r-right, um…s-sure, I…I’m ready to go when…when you are-EEP!” Harmonia flinched as a huge hand - larger than his whole body - suddenly swept down again, and stretched palm open before him. He looked between the fat hand and Billy’s face, as Geant smiled in a playful, exuberant way that showed the gap between his teeth. “Come on then!” Billy cheered. “It’s okay, little friend. I won’t hurt you! I’ll be super-duper careful, mega promise!” He crossed his heart with his free hand and added, “Giant’s Honor!” Harmonia nearly retorted that he didn’t know giants HAD honor…but already, he felt that would be a cruel and unjust response. He could tell saying such a thing would have hurt Billy’s feelings, and…well…somehow, he already knew that hurting Billy’s feelings wasn’t something he wanted to do. So - with the caution one might use when trying to defuse a bomb - Harmonia stepped up onto the soft, slightly springy-feeling surface of the giant’s plump palm. He sat down and braced himself as, a moment later, Billy rose back to his full height, carrying Harmonia up, up, up off the ground. The Golden Harp willed himself not to look down, as he could already feel his stomach flip from the change in air pressure and the feeling of gravity shifting beneath him. Billy smiled and cocked his head as he looked at the little one in the palm of his hand. He had to bite his lip to keep from squeeing. “Awww…you’re ADORABLE!” he cooed, unable to hold in his excitement, a blush painting his face, as he lifted his other hand, pointing one finger at Harmonia. “You’re so little, and you have such a cute little outfit…I wish I had a cool golden outfit like that! You look awesome!” Harmonia felt a little breathless as he nudged the finger away, not wanting to be poked, and barely managed to eep out a sincere but somewhat scared, “Th-thank you.” “You’re welcome!” grinned Billy, and cocked his head the other way. The action reminded Harmonia so much of a curious puppy, it was kind of hilarious. “Comfy there, little friend?” “M-More or less…” “Then let’s get moving,” Billy nodded. “Hold on tight, and don’t worry: I won’t let you go.” Under the circumstances, Harmonia felt there was a certain irony to those words…but he decided not to comment on it. Instead, he just sat quietly, as Billy began to march through the woods, his giant footsteps shaking the forest around them as he tromped in the direction of the Colosseum. The games had begun.

To Be Continued in Part Two…

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