The Following Short Ramble Has No Name And Was Published Last Night Out Of Nowhere.

The following short ramble has no name and was published last night out of nowhere.

“Come on, bro, eat us!”

Being a predator in a school as prestigious as Hogwarts has its benefits. You could integrate with prey easier and protect your friends, good stuff. It’s when your friends find out about the storage stomach that things go wrong. Suddenly, they discover a shrinking spell and want you to swallow them. Why? Because studying blows and their teenage hormones block out the other things they could do for the sake of clout and “W Rizz”.

So here you are, your predator cravings on fucking fire and your friends wanting stored, despite you not wanting to get caught and lose more points for Hufflepuff than yesterday. Peer pressure wins, and you give in.

One by one, you slip each friend in, cover them with saliva, and take a gulp, sending them down to storage. Your finger tracks them from the throat to the collarbone. Once they’re down, they celebrate, moving so much you wanna hurl.

But hey, you did what they wanted, and now you’re on their good list again.

You need new friends.

Reblogging since I posted this 12 hours earlier than I usually post my stories, might’ve gotten lost in the shuffle lol

Wild Kratts Vore - The One with Tazzy Chris

This story was inspired by @voreaz , huge HUGE thanks to their blog for inspiring me to get out of my debating head and actually write Wild Kratts vore, something I’ve been considering since before I knew what vore even was. While I am trying to center this around the episode, I apologize if I deviate too far in the parts I’m not trying to deviate from. Also, continuity doesn’t exist until Athena P says it does, so until she drops a lore video, I’m ignoring it. (Also don’t tag her OR the fandom if you reblog this please, I’m already dying publishing this)

Silence in the night isn’t a thing.

Maybe you’re in the city and there’s cars driving by, or like a small town with the noises of bars, but out in the wilderness, there’s the best kind of night noise: living creatures. Crickets and cicadas chirping, wolves howling, owls hoo-ing, and other noises. The noises of the wilderness are an active sign of flourishing life, even in the times most are asleep, but for the Kratt Brothers, this was the best time to observe the Tasmanian Devil.

Out in Tasmania, the brothers were on a quest, a great and noble quest, to prove that these creatures weren’t actually as scary as people think they are. It was also a chance to help scientists track them, as they are sadly endangered and as such needed to be protected.

Chris was sure to pack only essential tools for tagging. After all, each material was extra weight and as such, only what was necessary should be brought, so while Martin revealing that he only brought a crappy Halloween mask, was surprising, he was calm. Not mad, just kind of surprised.

Aviva took this moment to call them via hologram, eliminating the chance Martin had to explain his thought process or share anything else he brought.

“Simply put the tag on their ear. It doesn’t hurt them and allows us to track them!” She told the boys before going back to work on something, whatever it was is unimportant. Now, one can’t simply grab an animal and put it on the animal; that would cause them distress and maybe pain. The fly cam was the mouseketool for the job, providing a safe and easy way to tag the devils. Walking towards the noises of these creatures, Martin asked Chris,

“Not to be a scaredy cat, but are you sure we wanna do this?”, either afraid of the dark or the very creatures that he preached to be misunderstood.

“We have to! T. Devils are disappearing so quickly, and the more we know about them, the more we’ll be able to help protect them from becoming extinct” Chris replied calmly, his patience grounding Martin’s slightly hysteric fears.

What would help this were if one of these T. Devils didn’t make a scary shadow via Chris’ headlamp, but guess what? Martin, while initially afraid, saw the creature making the shadow and the coating of fear was spread away. Martin did though, feel a tickling sensation on his leg and asked Chris accusatorily if this was a good time for a tickle fight.

“I’m not tickling you right now”

As it turns out, one of the unaptly-named devils was licking his leg, which frightened Martin into Chris’ arms. But these devils didn’t just create fear, they also ate food. Being scavengers, they found a carcass and began eating, giving Chris ample time to put on a tag via the fly cam. [Watching the episode right now for the sake of exposition and they can chew through BONE?!] Tagging went well.

Now here’s where things get interesting. While Chris was using the fly cam, a devil came up to him and began observing this large foreign skin monkey that showed up out of nowhere. While Chris was joking about the devil giving him a taste test, what this animal found more appetizing was the creature suit, and took a chomp at it. Sparks and whirring caught Chris’s attention, who told the animal to be careful as to not cause a creature suit malfunction. But as things go, he jinxed himself and suddenly starting shaking as a green glow engulfed him and he became partially Tasmanian Devil, his brain rewired in a more wild sense. Chris was now half man, half creature. Instantly smelling something good, Tazzy Chris (as he was affectionately referred to by witnesses) ran on all fours for the sake of discovering where this meat was. Martin saw this situation and grabbed Chris by the leg just as his malfunction temporarily ceased, with Chris none the wiser of this incident. Chris walked along, malfunctioned again, and returned to normal just as Martin tried to inform Aviva of the situation, who didn’t believe him but started on their way anyway. Chris kept malfunctioning and unmalfuntioning with no knowledge or control.

So this happens, and while they’re still dealing with this crap take care of the whole Zach thing, because truly, that’s not what’s important here. What is important was what happened next [here’s where we deviate from the episode slightly]

This suit, as it turns out, was not something that could be fixed lickety-split. Rather, it would require being hooked up to a computer and the software deactivated so that the suit could be removed for repair. But it was 4 in the morning and since Chris had some level of control, the Tortuga gang decided to leave the issue until after they got some good night’s sleep. After all, it would require focus she just didn’t have, and Chris was too tired to be helpful. So, the issue was put off. With the lights off and sleeping bags out, everyone got in and got rested for a few hours of sleep for tomorrow’s next adventure.

Sadly, this wasn’t going to go too well, and that’s for one simple reason: Martin had been foolish. If you recall, I mentioned that Aviva had interrupted him before he could share everything else he brought. Now, this thing he brought was the miniaturizer, a glorified shrink ray. It was compact enough to fit in the cargo shorts Martin wore, and was so exhausted from taking care of Chris and Zach that he had forgotten to put it up. So there he was, tightly wound in his sleeping bag with a small device in his back pocket against the ground slightly. All it would take for catastrophe was Martin rolling over slightly and pushing the button into the ground. What do you think happened?

The zapping sound, muffled by the bag, was unheard as Martin was shrunk to a tiny size. Immediately waking up in fear and realizing what had just happened, he thrashed and panicked, trying to find his way out of this sleeping bag so he could get someone to help him with returning to normal size.

Meanwhile, Chris was struggling to sleep, as his Tasmanian form had taken over for a hot minute and was wide awake, being nocturnal. While he did roll to his side and start to close his eyes, from the slit of his vision still showing, he saw movement. Small movement in Martin’s bag. His regular reaction would’ve been to jump up and investigate, but the rather feral part of his fried brain saw something else in that lump, something that was quite shocking and yet not realized fully quite yet: food. Some small and defenseless creature that could satiate his ravenous hunger after being rejected the carcass he had so badly craved. It was something. Like a cat preparing for a pounce, he just stared at the lump, watching as it got closer and closer to the edge, tripping and struggling all the way. And then, he saw it: a tiny blue thing. It was extremely dark, so much so that the night vision wasn’t quite helping him decipher what on earth that was. What was it? A monkey? A mouse? Some poor unfortunate flightless bird, like a damn Kiwi?

It truly didn’t matter what it was at this point; it smelled heavenly, like the greatest diner in the state of Oklahoma. It would probably taste even better. Saliva started seeping from his mouth as he started craving whatever the hell that tiny little thing was. Now would’ve been a great time for the malfunctioning suit to switch back, but poor luck fell upon this poor turtle ship, as it would experience a quite unpleasant incident, one only discovered once the sun rose and the dust settled.

Martin, after much struggles and pushes, tripped out of the sleeping bag and onto the cold, hard floor, his arms catching him just in time to not faceplant. He took a moment to get up and tried to look around, to formulate a plan. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the massive green eyes of his transformed brother, his pupils widened beyond the point that they typically go in dark places. It was something more, Martin recognized. What exactly was triggering this response from Chris wasn’t quite clear though. Happiness of seeing his brother? Focus? Hunger? This though, was more analytical thought than Chris was doing.

However much of Chris’s mind was there within his current state fluctuated, and right now, his mind was more wild than not. There was no thought, just animal instinct for a moment. With an unzipped sleeping bag, Chris lept out of his bag and pounced onto the unidentified creature, keeping it trapped within his hands. He had caught it and was in complete control of its circumstances now. Curiously, he picked it up in between 2 fingers by some sort of cloth. He ignored the fear that had covered Martin in a white, cold sheet and took a deep sniff of his brother. The smell was so strong, and so appetizing that Chris could wait no longer. Well, at least for a moment. Some more of Chris entered his mind, and thankfully this part told the rest that despite his lack of patience, he should be careful in not to harm this creature but rather to just swallow it whole. Such advice was swiftly taken.

Martin had never been more scared. He’d admit he was a bit of a scaredy cat, was frightened by shadows and the sort, but the fear was always ushered away by rationality and curiousness. This was different, however, in the sense that this was, at least to him, a real threat. He had no control over the situation, no rationality to lean on. For heaven’s sakes, his own brother was treating him as some sort of creature, a mouse, and not as his own flesh and blood brother, his lifelong friend.

Now if he thought that was bad, the lifting up above the head slow opening of Chris’ jaw to reveal his eager and awaiting maw sent a cold shiver down his spine and terminated any hope that this would be easily resolved. The sight was out of a nightmare. The teeth looked sharper and weren’t much of a pleasant invitation. The pink and squishy tongue covered with a veneer of saliva and lowered somewhat in preparation for his presence, for its next meal. At the very least his throat was healthy, flexing somewhat in anticipation for this event, and his teeth were white. The mouth of his brother was human, and yet in a way, more animal, more carnivorous.

The furred fingers gripping his shirt released, and he yelped as he landed face first into a pool of saliva and onto the squishy tongue. Quickly after, Chris’s teeth clicked shut and he was trapped. The tongue pressed up, pinning Martin against the roof and rolled him around with itself, tasting him, savoring him even, like a candy. Martin, evidently, tasted phenomenal, and he wondered if Jimmy ever felt the euphoria his brother was feeling. It wasn’t like that blue whale mouth he was in, as that was bigger and the tongue didn’t do all this. But his thoughts once again skimpered off in fear to the bunker in the back of his mind with their families in tow as Martin once again lost rationality and Chris moved Martin about the mouth, covering him in hot and slightly sticky saliva. I mean, it was NASTY, but in a way, to Martin, it was cool enough. He’d washed worse off of his clothes. Now that he was lathered and in place, the back of the tongue lowered and Chris slightly tilted his head back, allowing gravity to move his brother into his throat. Martin could only scream as he rolled into the back of the throat, and with Chris taking a deep swallow, he was forced into the throat. It took another swallow to get him far enough down for peristalsis to take over for him.

Chris put a finger on his throat to feel the irregular shape of the creature inside him, being tugged deeper and deeper. It was wonderful. This was unlike anything else he had ever done. The feral-ish (have to be careful using that word) part of his malfunctioning mind acting on its urges and following its basic instinct to consume, he felt satisfied at a good meal. Once the morsel that he usually called his brother disappeared beneath the collarbone, he laid back down on his sleeping bag as he felt the drop of Martin falling into his stomach.

It was an unceremoniously plop, really, as Chris didn’t catch himself and landed square on his head and fell backward onto his, well, back. It was indeed a stomach, humid as all hell, with wrinkles everywhere and a clear bile at the bottom that was really just a puddle. As far as sight was concerned, there was none, but as for smell, hoo boy. It was the smell of spoiled food of meals past, of bacteria’s chemicals. Truly, it was rank. He’d rather be back in the mouth of that grouper he saved the pufferfish from. The natural reaction to being eaten alive is usually fear, panic, sadness, etc, and while for a time this is how Martin felt, it was overcome by curiousness before long. He started recording with his creaturepad, marveling at the stomach walls moving and churning him around this moist environment, similar in a way to the swamps they’d been in in Florida while looking for crocodiles. The way the body worked was fascinating and his mind raced, taking notes of the process. How the mouth had soaked him and the muscles of the mouth joined with the throat to swallow him, how said throat had worked to swiftly move him down here, and how the stomach responded to his presence. It was a good thing, him being distracted from his circumstances, how he was trapped in an organ usually filled with acids that would break him down into nutrients to fuel the body.

But that was peculiar, how they were just not there, something Martin picked up on after feeling the mucus on the stomach wall protecting it from self-destructing. Why on Earth weren’t digestive enzymes present? He was grateful they weren’t here so he wasn’t in danger, but still, perplexing, no? The space without said threat was relaxing in a way, the heat and limited bile working to soothe his weary body and tired mind, to sort of whirl him to sleep. While he was laying against the wall, he was fighting to stay awake, but ultimately, he lost the battle and dozed off to unconsciousness.

Hours passed, and as the sun rose, Chris had fallen asleep, but Aviva had woken up, had already hooked his suit up to her computer so that she could patch the code and allow Chris to be free from his creature power suit. She knew that T. Devils were nocturnal and Chris too by extension, so she wouldn’t be pressed for time to do it before Chris’s suit glitched again and he went off to do something. This was barely an inconvenience this way.

When Chris finally rose, his suit had been removed and was back to normal, oblivious to the events that had transpired just hours ago. He took a look at Martin’s sleeping bag and found it empty, save for the miniaturizer. It looked like it had gone off. This was worrying: if Martin had shrunken in the night, where was he now? Then, he heard a peculiar sound from his core. A sound unlike the heartbeats and gurgles that were standard, it was almost . . . Snoring?

Peculiar, but it couldn’t be what he thought. He should just call Martin, ask him where he was. When he dialed Martin, he could hear his ringtone coming from-

His suspicions were true. He theorized that his tazzy form had seen Martin shrunken and decided he was prey, catching him and swallowing him whole. But there weren’t any acids present, thankfully, so Martin had unintentionally fallen asleep. He didn’t blame him: it had been a LONG night, so he needed some rest. Chris chose not to inform the others of his discovery, but rather to talk a morning walk. Once Martin woke up, Chris would release him. They’d tell the others that he had had a run in with a hungry devil, but not which hungry devil. Then, they’d wait until night to tag more of the devils. But until then (and until Aviva and Koki inevitably found out the truth and lectured them), it would just be an alone nature walk, but with Martin, not truly alone.

I’m not exactly at a good time to repost my Movie Sonic vore story from Wattpad, but I will once I get time today.

Also, just for my constructive criticism and improvement, why do you all love the Peanut Butter Toast incident so much?

Donkey Kong Scene Rewrite

This was originally published on Wattpad on February 8, 2024. Warning: Contains near vore and Mario movie spoilers under the cut, so um yeah, I can’t tell if it gets better or worse from here lol. Enjoy!

As Mario steps out into the blinding light, the deafening sound of hundreds of Kongs cheering rings in his ears. Or, now that he was regaining his senses, it sounded like booing. It was booing.

He’s starting to regret this.

The plan had been simple on paper: Travel with the princess and Toad to the Kong Kingdom, and beg for the assistance of the great Kong Army. In practice, though, this hadn’t worked out so well, and the gang had been denied. Mario, desperate for the help and for his brother to be saved, doubled down and refused to leave until they got said army, with the agreement being that Mario would fight the son of the mighty Cranky Kong.

Mario now stands idly, awaiting his challenger while the crowd lambasts him. Suddenly, silence filled the stadium as monstrous footsteps are heard from the large doors. Mario’s heart rate accelerates as his anticipation, fear, and regret grow immensely, sweat dripping down his face. With no further warning, like a frog on 5-Hour Energy, a large ape with a red tie bounces into the arena. Now, the crowd’s previously demeaning sound had become a sound of admiration.

Mario, hoping to find any sign of weakness, assesses his opponent. This large brown ape, now identified as Donkey Kong, is probably double his size. He wore a hairdo swirled like frosting, massive arms and pecs that could crush a cannonball. Around his neck was a red tie with “DK” embroidered in yellow. Immediately, he demolishes two barrels with his gargantuan fists.

I’m screwed.

“Enough with the showboating!”

Mario comes out of his daze just in time to encounter a glimpse into the dynamic between father and son and Donkey Kong’s current ego trip.

“What do you mean?!” Donkey Kong incredulously asks. “It’s what they came here for! Dancing pecs!”

The zealous ape then proceeds to flex his pecs, causing even more wild fanfare. In an attempt to get things started, Cranky Kong yells,

“Okay, simmer down. I said SIMMER DOWN!”

Once Diddy Kong gets the memo, Cranky begins to explain the rules. Mario listens intently.

“Now, since I want this fight to last more than five seconds, I put power ups around the arena. You’re welcome, Mario.”

“I don’t need anything special to break every bone in your tiny body!” Donkey Kong yells, killing most hope Mario has.

As the crowd cheers, most intelligent thought leaves the mind of our favorite red-clad plumber. A nervous laugh emits from him, followed by an “Alright” and a charge towards Donkey Kong. He jumps. He prepares a punch…

Only for Donkey Kong to slam his head against the faded red girder and repeatedly slap Mario in the face. Currently, Mario is in pain as each thick slap connects with his sensitive facial skin. Peach and Toad can only cringe in horror as their kingdom’s only hope is made into a fool before the crowd.

“Guess you’re not getting my army!” Cranky Kong confidently jests as the younger Kong kicks Mario in the stomach, sending him careening nearly off of the girder.

As Donkey Kong has his ego fed by the cheerful crowd, Mario, not about to be deterred, takes a moment to climb back up. Above the ape’s head, a glowing power up box glows. Mario forms an idea. If he can get the Super Mushroom, he can grow to Donkey Kong’s size, leveling the playing field. Unaware of the existence of other mushrooms, Mario begins running towards it.

“It is on like Donkey Kong” the other creature in the ring quips. However, despite his charge, he is unable to snatch the sly Mario, who slips under and grabs the mushroom in the box.

“You’re about to pick on someone your own size,” Mario ironically says, taking no notice of the color of the mushroom. Popping the foul-tasting mushroom into his mouth and quickly consuming it, Mario lets out a yell and begins charging towards Donkey Kong. He had not realized what literally every other soul there had: the mushroom was in fact the rare Mini Mushroom. Not often found in arena duels, this mushroom is the antithesis of the Super Mushroom: it shrinks instead of grows.

Mario slows as his war cry quickly becomes a war squeak. Shrinking to a miniature size, Mario quickly realizes how badly he’s screwed up. He’s now only a few inches tall and susceptible to damage from everything. The previously large ape is now a towering threat that had triple the advantage. He also has no way of reaching a power up.

Donkey Kong is initially surprised by this. He had been expecting an actual challenge from his oversight. Perhaps he shouldn’t have boasted. Oh, but now. Now his “opponent” was a bite-sized nuisance with no defense.

The ape bends his head down to Mario’s level and emits a giggle. Mario’s heart rate is currently running a 500-yard dash as his fight or flight instinct came in. What little rationality he had at this point chose flight. Mario fruitlessly scurries away as in three bounds, the massive Kong bounces Mario into his palm.

As he now gazes into the endless spheres of black known as the eyes of Donkey Kong, his flesh turns white and a cold sweat overtakes his hot, tired sweat. No bullying from his old bully Spike, no misadventures he’d faced, not even any of the previous events today could ever live up to the megalophobia Mario is currently facing.

Meanwhile, Donkey Kong is smiling at his newfound plaything. What would be the best course of action? How can I knock out his sense of determination while putting myself on a pedestal? I wish I had eaten breakfast…

With the new silence from a crowd awaiting anything, a new sound cuts through Mario’s miniscule ears.

The deep, gargled growling of Donkey Kong’s stomach.

Slowly, a thought enters Mario’s mind. A horrifying thought, similar to the epiphany the Kong is having, that’s just accelerating as the spheres he looks into dilate.

He’s going to eat me.

A thought that would become reality as Donkey Kong’s lips parted, revealing the dark, moist, cavernous interior of his mouth. His tongue pulsates in anticipation, and his hot breath falls upon our plumber, the smell having the faint scent of rotting banana.

Only pure primordial thoughts (and perhaps Ave Maria) could be conjured up as Mario is tossed, flying into a divot created by the ape’s tongue. He’s then pushed against the hard roof of the maw, being savored. He could only yell as he went further into the cave.

On the outside, Donkey Kong’s mind is racing with intrusive thoughts.

I’m really about to swallow an opponent!

My fans are going to enjoy this.

This is the taste of victory.

This was a mistake. Mario is soaking in salt. Donkey Kong doesn’t like salt.

Back with the snack, the tasting muscle keeps quivering, trying to push Mario away from the gaping hole at the back. Mario can feel every twitch of regret, the physical manifestation of second thoughts. He can tell Donkey Kong is attempting to swallow him, to be able to revel in the victory of defeating his opponent in the single most humiliating way: to turn a threat into just a morsel, a snack, to make the saying “He’ll eat you for lunch” literal.

(Not that the ape would truly consume him. After all, this was just for show. He was just going to regurgitate him anyway, and throw him out of the kingdom to fend for himself like the tiny thing he was).

And yet, these second thoughts keep Mario in a pool of salty saliva, preventing him from going down the ever-so-close throat. Hope begins to simmer in Mario’s mind that he will be freed instead of going into the stomach.

Donkey Kong is struggling. The pressure pushing him on, but his body simply not having it. The wish to entertain isn’t able to beat the rejection of the salty body suspended on his tongue. Eventually, the overriding of instinct fails. Mario is spat straight into the ground with a patootie and returns to normal from the impact. Despite all of the digestive fluids soaking him and everything on him, that sense of determination he’d always had returns.

The crowd, while disappointed that Mario wasn’t stewing in their hero’s guts, are certainly happy that Mario has been thoroughly shamed. Victory for Donkey Kong is still likely. Unfortunately for Kong, despite all of the fear Mario’s just faced, all of the embarrassment in front of the princess, all of the failures so far, Mario chooses to continue fighting…

I promise the TMNT 2012 vore fic is on its way. I’ve been quite busy these past few weeks, but the story is around… let’s say 75% done. My hope is to have it published today or tomorrow.

I’ve actually had the Wattpad cover done since before I started writing, because for some reason I actually planned this out somewhat beforehand. I don’t usually show them off here because they just serve the purpose of being a cover with the story name, author name, and pred-of-the-(metaphorical)week, but F it.

I’m not drawing covers because I don’t do color. Sorry!

The Introductory Post

Hey everyone! I’m tefifonconnoisseur (or tefi if you want), and I’m here to write SFW vore fanfiction, maybe G/T. I’ve been posting on Wattpad since February and have a request drive going there, although you can also request things here. I have a list of stories to write anyway, might as well.

Typically, I prefer to write for fandoms I’m familiar with for the sake of writing in character, so as an example, while I have to admit Bakugou has pred energy, I don’t know enough to write for him. Fandoms I’m familiar with and will write for include (but aren’t limited to) Mario, Sonic (I’ve written for the movies for these), TMNT, lots of Disney and Nickelodeon, Courage the Cowardly Dog, The Hollow, Pokémon, TF2, Marvel, DC, the Wild Kratts, other PBS Kids shows pre-2016, and Harry Potter. I prefer male preds to female personally, but like idk

What I’ll write:

*Giant/Tiny

*Oral Vore (Soft and Safe)

*Most tropes (Fearplay, fluff, unwilling or willing pred and/or prey, unaware, food/drinkplay, and most others)

What I won’t write:

*Non-oral Vore

*Hard and/or Fatal Vore

*Full Tour

*Real People, seriously, no

*Characters whose voice actors have passed away for some reason

*Characters under the age of 14 (I’m willing to age up certain characters, but depends usually).

For a moment, I’ll just be reposting stuff from Wattpad. I will post stories on both platforms.