#vore ocs
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holy shit it’s my sona if I put any effort into them ?! HOLY !!!!!!!!
More stuff under the cut
ok even though I now have this cute fairy design please continue to draw mango as a little blob guy it’s so cute
ok yes character intro thing??
“Mango” is a faerie (inspired by the Ariels in Ancient Magus Bride, good anime) - He/They/It
// they’re able to use their leaf-like wings to hide themselves
// also able to blend in with fruit, specifically mangos, hence the name!
// being clever and small, they tend to take on a sort of symbiotic relationship with many predators, doing small services or allowing themself to be eaten in exchange for protection or food
// however because they’re a little shit, he often bites the hand that feeds him. literally. be careful opening drawers he’ll pop out and BITE
// Despite being small they can and do prey on smaller critters, so can be considered both prey and predator. They gain energy from consumption without digestion. However they do not do this out of necessity, as they can sustain off of fruit just fine
// it originally had four arms, and doesn’t tell many people how it lost the second set
// The four mandibles/pincers (idk the word) on its face are able to hold its prey in place a la reaper leviathan from Subnautica
// be careful when swallowing, they have quite a few sharp bits!
// personality wise they are sociable but annoying as hell when they want to be. He think he’s a threat man
// follows the fae rules. don’t tell them your name.
// yes, they do taste pretty fruity
🌀🌀🌀 oooooh you wanna eat them so much ooooh you wanna send me asks so bad /j
+ initial doodles :P
#yumyums#mangos ocs#mango ribs#Mango Fae#vore talk#my art#v0re#soft vore#sfw vore#vore meme#unwilling vore#safe vore#vore oc#gt vore#tw vore#vore art#vore ocs#vore fairy ???
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I had a dream last night that I forgot about until now. Alexander and Lynette were at college together and both were crushing on the other hard but refused to admit it. So they just would like, scoot closer to each other when they were sitting together, or go out of their way to spend time together. Their friends were like "guys, you obviously like each other", and they would both deny it with everything in them when they were like cuddling or whatever. It was simultaneously very in character and very out of character, and very funny in hindsight.
LIKE SERIOUSLY. xD WHY DID YOU PUT THIS IN MY HEAD SO WELL! Lol, no, thank you so much for sharing it, buckaroo! Nice to see you around!
I know, it's not something that's going on in the story. BUT oh my gosh, I was having so much fun doing these doodles, THANK You for the inspiration! AND the ask in general!
AS ALWAYS, HAVE A SUWASOME DAY! NONNEGOTIABLE!!
#widfali art#lucky art#idiot bobean oc#asshole pred oc#vore story#I am so totally DYING#HEWP#vore ocs
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More mouth play >:3
#safe vore#vore art#vore oc#g/t vore#gt safe vore#v/ore#v.ore#mouth play#soft vore#sfw vore#cute vore#vore ocs#v0re blog#v0re#gt vore
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Dinu and Gustav picrew
Gustav-Dragon,lover and lunch for Dinu
Dinu-Dragon ,Gustavs lover who intensly desires to eat him
@ariel-seagull-wings @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @themousefromfantasyland
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"Saw you a lil down, Room. Let me help you~"
#tw vore#vore cw#vore tw#vore blog#oc vore#vore ocs#He doesn't like seeing me sad. 👍 (Comfort pred??#Yes it's self insert... <3
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I think it’s time I introduce my two main vore ocs: Clover and Lucas. (Warning: I’m pretty bad at drawing so I’ll be using Gac/ha Li/fe 2 for visuals. Sorry their designs kinda suck lol)
This’ll be a lot of information at once, so prepare yourself.
Let’s start with how they were created. Even though I identify as a pred, ever since my early childhood, I’ve had nightmares about being swallowed whole by scary monsters, usually carnivorous dinosaurs or giant snakes. The nightmare I had a few weeks ago (the nightmare that resulted in their creation) was similar, but ended very differently. Usually I would wake up the moment I get eaten, but not that time. No matter how hard I tried, I could not wake up. I had no choice but to stay in that monster’s stomach until I woke up on my own. I could hear its voice, muffled through the stomach walls, talking to other monsters, bragging about its catch. There are a lot of events that happened after that, but I don’t wanna spoil it cause I’m planning on writing a story about this and eventually posting it here, so let’s skip to when I woke up. I couldn’t stop thinking about that dream, so I sorta continued it through daydreaming. I gave them names and deeper personalities, I gave them friends and enemies, I gave them romance. I gave them life.
Now that their origins have been established, let’s move on to actual introductions, starting with Clover. Clover is my preysona. They’re 19 years old, like me. They’re basically a more angry, tired, and gremlin-like version of me. They have a hardened exterior and don’t like letting others in, so they come off as cold and uncaring, when their true self is quite the opposite. They’re almost always seen wearing a hoodie. Even though they’re a mere 5’4”, they can still defend themself (when they’re not paralyzed with fear, which doesn’t happen often but still). They will bite.
Now let’s move on to Lucas. Lucas is the monster that ate me in my dream. He’s 19 as well. He looks very similar to Slen.derm.an, except he has four arms, no tentacles, no clothes (in the beginning; I gave him clothes later on), and a mouth filled with shark-like teeth. He’s 7’10” tall. He’s a major people-pleaser and will literally become a doormat if it means keeping others happy. Unlike his friends, he does not like digesting humans, and stopped digesting them altogether after meeting Clover. He’s beginning to suspect that his friends may not be true friends. He can fit up to 5 adult humans in his stomach at once (he learned this after an awful prank done by his friends), but if he still wants to be able to walk afterward, then 2 is the limit. Due to having four arms, he can’t wear shirts with sleeves, which sucks cause he gets cold easily. He also hates shoes and can only wear certain clothes cause he has a thing about textures. He also has a human form that he can transform into at any time. He can also transform certain parts of his body at will (for example, monster body with human head). I will make a post about his human form in the near future… once I design it.
I think that’s it. The story I’m writing about them is called “A Nightmarish Beginning”. The draft of part 1 is currently sitting in my notes app, so it should be posted sometime soon. I’d be glad to answer any questions about these two that you may have. Thanks for reading this far!
#sfw vore#safe vore#soft vore#vore ocs#digestion mention#vore writing#safe v/ore#soft v/ore#nonsexual vore#v/ore
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For some forsaken reason I'm not affraid to send this without the shield of bring anonymous. That aside, for the ask game:
💝
Ooh! Well, Ill answer this one for for the one of my ocs everyone seems to love, Val, heres a ref.
A gesture he appreciates is and sort of physical affection, from internal tum rubs to pets, he loves that stuff. Another gesture he very much appreciates is bringing him food as a gift, hes a foodie, so a meal will make him like ya, hes got simple likes and he doesnt mind :3
Thanks for the ask bud :3
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@tummygrumbls drew this for me! Go check out their art, they make some awesome stuff!
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new oc alert, everyone say hi Neo! :]
Neo is a daemon-cursed computer that is highly intelligent and craves the taste of prey. It can teleport you into a super secret area akin to a stomach, and nobody will ever find you..
And it’s a bit more on the cruel side >:D
Any asks about or even to him would be very much appreciated <33
#yumyums#v0re#mangos ocs#mangos universes#vore talk#vore tw#unwilling vore#cruel pred#soft vore#safe vore#vore art#tw vore#vore ocs#vore meme#Neo-1
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References For Wild Escape
Link To Story Here: Wild Escape
Size translates funny in this world, in our world he'd be 20 feet tall.
Name Meaning: Clifford means ford by a cliff, William resolute protector, and Haynes means enclosure.
Pet/Nicknames: Hakai, Peach Fuzz, and Clifford
Age: 24
Birthday: December 21st
Base Personality: He's a cocksure, cunning, comical, and curious individual. He has a lot of pride and generally won't back down from something if it threatens it.
Hobbies: He doesn't know why but ever since he was little he likes seeing lizards, spiders, snakes, or other of the mostly reptile variety skittering across the landscape. He finds great joy catching and releasing them after inspecting them too.
Goal: Earn the title of the sharpest focus user in the East.
Occupation: An Exterminator is one that takes down Yokai that have infested shrines, temples, or towns. They are far and few as it requires a certain eye to catch the stronger ones and a good level of resistance against corruption.
Extra Little Secret: His poncho is a little small because his mom made it for him when he was younger, he has not replaced it since.
Song: Hell's Comin' with Me - Poor Man's Poison
Size translates funny in this world, in our world she'd be 5 foot 3 inches tall.
Name Meaning: Cassie means shining over man, T (redacted), Valentine means strong and healthy.
Pet/Nicknames: Niña salvaje, Cass, and Yokai Shifter
Age: 22
Birthday: August 13
Base Personality: She’s spirited, skeptical, sardonic, and self-reliant. She like to explore and see everything she can to get away from her small town. She's usually very watchful and sassy at times, but overall her hearts in a good place.
Hobbies: She has a various rock collection as eco-disasters happen to uncover unique rock shapes and gems. So she has a plethora of the pretty ones at home.
Goal: Find a way to live with humans, so stunted don't have to keep hiding from them. She wants to keep exploring the world.
Occupation: Eco-Treasurer, a person that goes out after an eco-disaster caused by a multitude of Yokai in one place and or a shrine owners wrath, to collect the items created and left behind. There are generally treasures left at which can only be opened or access if someone has the ability to read old runes.
Extra Little Secret: She often dreams of being as tall as Kuna from her world, so she'll climb up high and pretend to be one.
Song: "Mi Capitán" - Kiltro
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Aleric gobbling up a dragon
@ariel-seagull-wings @theancientvaleofsoulmaking @themousefromfantasyland @scarletblumburtonofeastlondon
#oc#oc's#oc's art#tw vore#dragon#vore art#dragons#dragon art#dragon pred#dragon ocs#oc dragon#witch oc#vore ocs
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Cardinal Randall
He's my OC so uh.
Ask questions about him for lore. use these emojis in my inbox so I know it's about him.
Normal ask for him = 🍁
Vore ask for him = 🍂
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Beneath Veiled Faces pt.1
Disclaimer: Robin's and Alma's views on vore doesn't reflect mine. Robin may come off as a little preachy in that one monolog, but just keep in mind that they have strong opinions formed from their own life experiences, and Alma has (less strong) opinions from her own. It's no way intended to say that one type of vore is inherently better than another- the reason the pred here gets the come uppance is purely plot armor lmao. Also, I've never been to a bar or had alcohol! Can you tell? XD Content: NSF/W vore, alcohol, intoxication, discussion of consent and ethics, panic attack, anxiety, unwilling vore, fatal digestion, hurt/comfort, secret missions, first meetings, secret identities, background murder, past slavery, not too graphic violence, unnamed female pred and unnamed ambiguous prey. Lots of fucking world building.
Robin scans the room once again, ears straining to listen to the wind from inside the mixed bar. The lights are dim this time of night, most patrons having either left or had one too many. The perfect time for most predators to make their move on people too drunk to properly fight back. Or run.
This area of the city has been struck with a string of disappearances, all prey folk. An obvious new hunting ground for an inexperienced pred. No matter. If they do this right, their target won't get the experience to get away with it smoothly.
The bartender gives them a strange look from across the room. Robin had tucked themself into the back booth, back to the wall, ordering only the occasional food. It was, admittedly, good food. They're obsessed with the cheese-stuffed potato skins and the sweet potato fries covered with some sort of sweet glaze. But they hadn't ordered any alcohol in a bar all night, just using a fork to stuff their face with finger food. And they had just been caught looking too closely at the patrons and the exits.
Stars they must look so suspicious. They just know they've got ‘that look’ in their eyes again, as Cedar keeps pointing out, that gives people the impression that they're ‘staring straight into your soul’. Ugh. Guess it's time to go up to the bar and actually order something, or blow their cover.
They hand over their ID and smile without teeth. The bartender eyes them a moment longer, before handing it back. He's a tall pred folk, one that would tower even above other mortal preds. As it is, Robin's palms start sweating in their gloves from having to almost throw their head back to look him in the eyes. They focus instead on the little enameled pin tucked across his collar, a cutesy little ghost saying ‘boo-mbtastic!’. As they start to read the menu for something light to sip, he speaks up. “I saw you looking around a lot tonight.”
“I'm waiting for someone,” they confess. It's not the whole truth, obviously, but they can't lie even if they wanted to. He chuckles. His voice rough enough it makes them shiver. They hope they're not flushing. “Got stood up, huh?”
They move to shake their head, but stop mid-movement. A sweet scent tickles their nose, and they have to swallow thickly against the sudden flood. The stool next to them shifts as someone slides in.
“Heyyyy bestie, no time no seeee,” the stranger says. A young prey woman sits next to them, swinging her feet and leaning her face in her hands. A faery prey woman. What in the world…?
“I saw you yesterday, Alma. Like I see you every night.” The woman - Alma - hands over her ID and smiles with teeth. Her pink nose is flushed red already, her pupils blown so only a ring of spring green can be seen. Has she been bar hopping? “Are they with you tonight, then? You can't keep leaving your dates hanging. This one's been here all night waiting.”
The other faery looks surprised, before turning her face to where he's gesturing. She looks them up and down, and smirks conspiratorially. “They are now! You don't mind, do you?” Robin shrugs. It doesn't matter to them, although now they'd have to find a way to thank her for saving their ass there. The man raises an eyebrow and mutters something fond under his breath about ‘damn kids, had me worried’.
They both order, and the bartender turns to start preparing the drinks. Robin tilts their head at the faint whisper in the wind. It's something to focus on instead of the way their stomach clenches. They've eaten enough food tonight, they don't need more, and they've just met Alma. That's not how it's supposed to go back in the homeland. And they've had enough of the nontraditional way. Never again.
She studies them over the edge of her glass of wine. Seemingly sizing them up in turn. After a moment, she comes to a decision, and hisses quietly in their mother tongue, words having a strange accent to them. “Y'know, I thought I was the only one on this side of the Veil.” She smiles toothily, swaying some. They resist the urge to grab her arm to steady her.
“Me too.” They take a sip of the sangria they ordered, trying to wash her scent down with another sweet thing. They need a distraction, so they ask the first thing that comes to mind to keep the conversation going, leaving one ear pricked towards the wind. “What brings you here?”
She snorts. “To the bar or the jungle? Because if it's the first, buddy that's so cliche to ask What's A Pretty Thing Like You Doing In A Place Like This.” Alma giggles as she downs the rest of her wine. She fully turns to face them, leaning her elbow up on the counter not made for her height. Her upright ears flutter, once, twice.
They roll their eyes. “I'm not hitting on you, obviously. You don’t have to answer that if it's personal.”
Alma rolls her eyes right back. She sobers some as she mulls it over. In a hushed tone, she replies, as if anyone happening to be listening could actually understand them. “I'm not the real Alma Florimell. Well, I am but not. It's a whole deal.”
They hum to themself. “Changeling?” They pretend not to be invested in the answer. Truly, how alone must she feel if she was willing to answer a vulnerable question from a stranger? Or drunk. Probably drunk. They shouldn't ask anymore questions like that, then.
“Yeah. Switched at birth and all. Like in a bad comedy drama. I'm lucky that my hosts wanted me even after they realized I'm not normal,” she rambles. The bartender notices that her drink is empty, and she motions for a refill with a muted smile. She sways again. Maybe she's had enough for tonight… They quietly ask for some water in english and push it towards her. “And, well, the real Alma isn't on speaking terms with hers, so I guess I dodged a bullet.”
“You are normal, Alma. Perfectly healthy and average for someone like you, as far as I can tell. And yeah, the plant thing is a little weird, but you're all just weird to me in general.”
They decide to look around again, instinct telling them that something was off. Nothing was out of the ordinary at a glance, though. Exactly how it was before they got caught. They frown slightly to themself before turning back. They redouble their split focus towards the hunt at hand.
“Whatever…” she brushes off. There's no reason to believe them, afterall. They don't even know why they said that. Robin glances down to their hands. Half the glass is gone somehow. Oops. “Wait, how did you know about that?”
“It's really common. It would be weird if you didn't feel more at home with plants than people.”
A momentary silence descends between them. Robin scrambles for something to say. They feel dizzy; from the alcohol or from the sweet treat they're talking to, they can't say. Their stomach rumbles in interest at the thought. They shake their head, realizing they're staring.
It's Alma that breaks the silence. “So, what about you? How’d a windborne end up here? You're not trooping faeries. It must be hard living in a city, especially with no prey. Unless I don't know anything and I should shut up now. No seriously I won't be offended if you tell me to, I ramble all the time, especially when I've had too many. Like now. Yeah.” She sips her water to illustrate the point. The little preything really could talk, huh? Robin likes the sound of her voice, it's deep and smooth, reminding them of Cedar in a strange way. When he's totally relaxed and not nearly soprano from his anxiety. They take out their phone and shoot off a reminder to take his melatonin gummies while they're thinking about him.
Pocketing it, they finally process her words, and freeze. Well, she might not get it, but maybe they can subtly tell her a partial truth so she can draw her own conclusions… They pull up their left sleeve just enough to reveal the old brand curling possessively up their forearm. Their master’s use-name, written in the faery tongue in bold characters. It's an old and ugly memory, but their master’s attendants made sure it healed cleanly. The only apology they could give them as a child freshly ‘acquired’. They don't acknowledge the gasp to their right as they calmly explain, “I'm a free hound, but I can't ever be sure it would stay that way if I went back.”
They pull down their sleeve and fit it back over their glove snuggly. The leather squeaks as they testingly clench their fingers. Stalling, so they don't have to acknowledge the fear Alma is radiating at their side. Her heart is beating so fast, rushing blood close to the surface, making her scent flood the air. It's soured with terror. So dizzy, and shaky, they get up to leave her alone. It's fine. They get it.
Her fingers shoot out and clutch their sleeve. “It's fine! I'm sorry for reacting like this. Give me a minute, you don't have to go!”
They rip their arm away, baring their fangs in a snarl. Heart hammering, they can't breathe enough air into their lungs, and their world lurches forward from the rush of adrenaline and oxygen deprivation. The stool rushes up to meet them and they cling onto it like a lifeline. Everything blurs out of their awareness for several long moments.
When they come back to themself, their ears are ringing, and the bartender has come from behind the counter and laid them down flat on the ground so they wouldn't crash and bring glass with them. He's speaking softly to them, and someone next to them is guiding them through a breathing exercise. They vaguely recognize it as the same one they use with Cedar when he has attacks. Their ears ring.
Robin is guided back onto the stool, Alma saying something to the bartender, who after a moment retreats to get them a glass of water. She very carefully doesn't touch them, but she does lean forward into their line of sight, pretty lips softly smiling. It doesn't reach her eyes.
“Sorry. I didn't mean to scare you…”, she murmurs. “I didn't know.”
“I should be the one apologizing. Just. Don't touch me suddenly. Don't grab my arms like that. And we’re golden.” They gulp down their water in one big swallow. “Thanks for helping me through that. You didn’t have to.”
“Yeah I did, idiot. I messed up. I fix it. Thems’ the rules.” She leans back out of their space. “I think I owe you something now, though. For being frightened unnecessarily, and causing a situation where you'd panic.”
“You don't owe me anything. It's fine. It's over, and it was an understandable reaction to that. It's fine.”
She tilts her head, regarding them thoughtfully. “What about dinner? You don't seem like you've gotten enough to eat recently. Your presence is weaker than I know it should be. Or well, it's late for dinner. I could be dessert?”
Robin bites back the first three answers. They are not going to make decisions with their stomach, thank you very much. “Don't offer me your body out of a perceived obligation. That's weird. I would be weird for saying yes to that.”
She flusters. “Hey, don't talk about it like it's sex! And it's not obligation! I thought, maybe, that you would be tempted if I said it like that. To be honest, I just want to disappear right now. Be far away from everything. I don't know, the chiropractor is too expensive. I need to get factory reset and no one is biting. It's just fulfilling a need for eachother. And yeah, I am sorry for earlier. I know bloodhounds don't get a choice in what the person on the other end of the leash makes you do. It was irrational. You'd have torn my throat out already if you were still under someone's thumb. And I know that I get the munchies after a panic attack, I thought that it would probably be welcome to offer you a meal.”
They hum in thought for a moment, choosing their words carefully. “It's not inherently sex, you're right. But I need to approach it like it is. It's a lot of the same questions about consent and autonomy about our bodies. It's not like here in the mortal realm, they die from this all the time. They can't have a culture around respecting a prey as a person in the same way we can. It's inherently intimate, at least for me. You're both food and a person, but here it's food or a person. It's so strange to think about it like that. It feels wrong.” They shiver in disgust at the mere thought. “So following that logic, I'm pretty sure we're both too intoxicated to be making that decision right now.”
Alma’s voice turns teasing. “You've had literally one drink. You're not that much of a lightweight, are you?”
“Guilty as charged. It's the bird bones. Can't be too heavy to fly and all.” They smirk. “Who knew hollow bones were bad at making blood, too?”
“Oh boy. Let's hope you never have to go to the ER!”
“Yeah. Let's hope.”
They settle once again into a comfortable silence. At some point they relocate to the booth Robin had claimed earlier. Alma ends up ordering 3 more wines, and they show her the magic of the glazed sweet potato fries. She teases them for eating fries with a fork, and they dare her to wrap her hands in napkins and not get any grease or glaze on them. She fails spectacularly, over and over, until Robin can't breathe because they're laughing too hard. She playfully kicks under the table.
While they're having fun in good company, the other preds at the bar watch in curiosity. Some had been concerned earlier, when the short one had keeled over. Some were watching with bated breath, placing bets on when the little pred was going to stop playing with their food and eat the tiny prey. In anticipation or cynical worry.
And one was thinking to herself that the little pred was weak. That together with the tiny preything, they'd make a filling meal. The tiny prey was drunk, it wouldn't put up much fight. Couldn't walk, let alone run, so all she had to do was swallow the other one first. Oh yes. It looked so tasty. She hoped her prey paired well with the margarita she's been nursing the whole night.
Her stomach burbled in interest at the thought of dinner tonight. Or perhaps, that was last night's prey still processing. Such a pretty thing, so trusting. It filled her up nice and good. She went home with a squirming gut that night, and put her favorite soap operas on. Rubbed her belly as it purred, bubbling and churning in delight as the little thing screamed for help. Slowly being drowned out by her massive gut roaring to life, thrashing getting weaker as her stomach clenched and melted her prey into nothing. Gods, she can't get enough of it. Truly, this was what she's been missing out on?
She follows them out after they split the bill, and the little pred helps the tiny one walk. They stagger a few times, and the two stop for a moment so the tiny one can bend over a bush. She hears them hiss quiet words to eachother in a language she's never heard before. They sound like snakes, but if snakes were Italian. How interesting.
She slips unnoticed past them with a casual walk. An alleyway was only a bit ahead, where they'd have to pass to call a taxi home. Perfect. Now, just to wait.
Robin sighs in relief as nothing ends up coming up. It's been a long night for Alma by the looks of it, and they mentally prepare to get strange looks from the taxi driver as they carry a nearly blackout drunk preygirl home. She'd probably be fine on her own, seeing as faery prey are fighters when they don't like what's happening. Vicious things. But it's rained recently, and if she passes out in a puddle…
The hunt tonight was fruitless so far. Well, maybe they could take Alma home and come back to continue. The predator has been attacking in a circular pattern across the city, Missing Persons last being seen at a bar and disappearing after the establishment closes, or after they leave. So the culprit is choosing the victims inside the building.
Of course, serial killers or traffickers aren't entirely ruled out. But the broken antler pieces left in alleys suggest an amatuer predator breaking off the natural defenses of their prey, not wise enough yet to remember to clean up afterwards. Or someone clever enough to make it look like a predator attack to throw off investigators. Not that the police have been any kind of useful to a simple case like this so far. That's why they have to step in now.
They curse their circumstances in their head. If only there were more faery prey - willing prey - they wouldn't have heard about this so late. The wind would've carried the screams for help to them from anywhere in the world. But the longer they go without eating, the more the wind fades from their awareness, the harder it is to maintain the glamour that safely hides away their wings in a pocket dimension. They haven't eaten prey since they were a teenager…
They slowly lead Alma away from the bush as she straightens back up. The designated area for the taxi was just ahead, a little alley between them and the waiting bench.
Someone grabs the back of their shirt and yanks. They feel their body be pulled back into the shadows, reflexively letting go of Alma in the process. Adrenaline shoots up their spine. Something wet hits their face - drool - and they instinctively twist around in the grip of their captor. The attacker is over powered, or caught off guard by their strength, and loses some of their hold on them. Robin strikes out where they're guessing the face is of the predator, and tries not to grin when they feel a crack underneath their fist. They've struck true once again.
The person goes flying. They watch as they - she, bounces off the side of a dumpster and lands on her knees. A vindictive, predatory part of themself purrs in satisfaction in seeing their target brought low. She groans. Growls some generic insult. Or threat. They don't really care what she has to say.
“Found you,” Robin breathes, and Alma slurs. The prey woman leaning on the opposite wall wastes no time in reaching into seemingly nowhere and bringing forth five long purple needles. She throws them. One lands in the dirt by the target’s feet, one in the brick wall, two in the metal, and one strikes true into the predator’s engorged gut. They feel sick as they watch the flesh wobble on impact. The woman goes limp almost instantly.
Robin eyes her for a moment before turning their head to stare at Alma. “What do you mean, ‘found you’?!” They once again say in unison. They shake their head. “You first.”
“I ho arouuund,and…*hic* smell nice. It makes them. It makes them want meeee. So I figired, I've got Para. The stiff that makes you jot move. I trick em into eating it along with me if they're gonna just *hic* take meeee.” Alma rambles. “Yooou turn”
“...I go around and find predators that don't take no for an answer. And I make them take no for an answer.”
“Ohhh you're the killlllerrr. Cooooool”
“And you’re the cause behind preds becoming paralyzed suddenly. Nice.”
“Yeaaah” She slowly sinks down the wall, and Robin moves to help her up. “I wanna go home now.”
The adrenaline is slowly starting to wear off, and the exhaustion setting in. Robin is tired down to their bones after tonight. All in all a successful hunt, with a new ally/friend to boot, but they've done more emotional work tonight than they have since the night they ran. “Yeah. Let's go home.”
Two taxi rides, a deadweight girl on their back up a flight of stairs, and a worried phone call later, Robin is closing their own apartment door behind them. They're asleep in Cedar’s bed before their head hits the pillow.
#nsf/w vore#vore story#unwilling prey#female pred#fairy prey#fairy pred#digestion#fatal vore#hurt/comfort#first meetings#tw alcohol#tw intoxication#tw paralysis#its lighter than the tags suggest#robin bvf#alma florimell bvf#beneath veiled faces#nblw vore#vore ocs#v0re#cruel pred
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Alright enough serious horror lore lets talk soleil / monty as a silly vore character
Monty can be surprisingly sympathetic. His violent actions are largely a result of him not knowing better. He desperately craves physical and even mental affection. He’s very affectionate with his prey but will write it off every time it is commented on.
Such affection manifests in many ways. He rubs, pets, and squishes his belly alot. He’ll call his prey sweet pet names and talks to them more like a possessive boyfriend than anything else.
He can shape-shift many traits, though he is bound to not stray too far from the traits of the depiction he currently possesses. Since his main form is that of a cartoon from a style known for stretching and other forms of bodily contortion, he can get away with a fair bit. He can get fairly big, sharpen his teeth, and even wrap his arms around prey like a snake.
The nature of his stomach changes depending on what he’s possessing. It’s sticky and full of ink when he’s possessing a cartoon, but soft and full of stuffing when he possesses a plushie. his ability to digest his prey persists throughout all forms, though some do have more difficulty than others.
Unique for one of my characters, soleil digests his prey fully and does NOT regenerate them. they are just, dead.
If you’re lucky enough, however you may make him so fond of you he wont kill you. However, this doesn’t mean he lets you go. Instead he’ll keep you in his belly much longer. However, so far nobody’s been able to stay in his graces for that long.
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Some Terrible Character Ref Sheets
I didn't feel like making nice character refs so these are just mediocre sketches that I colored. Who wants to spend time on the reference sheets when I could just start Putting them in Situations?
Maybe I'll do an actual story with them? I probably will mostly just do short stories and drawings. Sthelasia is a wyvern centaur thing. Corian calls her "Lacey" for short. Corian is a squirrel boy with lots of freckles. Sthelasia usually uses his full name but occasionally calls him "Cory".
Transcription of the writing in the picture, cause I know my handwriting is terrible:
Sthelasia (Ste-lay-see-uh):
[bi flag] [graysexual flag] "Lacey"
curious
aggressively affectionate
protective
impulsive
distractible
can change size at will
Corian:
[straight ally flag] "Cory"
timid
compassionate
surprisingly scary when upset
easily flustered
cinnamon roll
protect at all costs
Size chart shows Sthelasia's regular size vs Corian's size (who is human sized)
#ignore the fact that the pronunciation of Sthelasia is different in the caption#I messed up in the image ok?#also I know I gave the reptile woman mammalian breasts#they're ornamental#or something#idk shut up#OC:Sthelasia#OC:Corian#vore ocs
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