Fatal Vore - Tumblr Posts
TUMTOBER Number 9 - Gray Fullbuster - Fairy tail
A progression that took me all day to make....I was going to make this day 9 and 10 but I thought ‘No. I love my followers, I’ll make something new that I haven’t done before and not cheat them out of a day.’ So here’s Gray in three states; hungry, with a vore tum and then a post vore thing that you can interpret as stuffing if you really want to. It’s my first time doing a sequence like this as well as posting a post vore piece so I’m sorry if it’s a bit weird.
Apologies to my non-vore followers. I promise I’ll do more stuffing and hunger ones for you soon. Gray was recommended as a request from my good friend @astral243 who also (once again helped with the dialogue.) I’ve not watched fairy tail in years and am waaaaay behind so I struggled with things Gray would say. (That rhymed....) I hope it’s good enough for you~
You know while I generally like the pred to be the one in control of reformation in vore, there is something to be said about the absurdity of finding out your functionally immortal by being eaten.
Spider and Butterfly (NSFW)
Warning: This work contains: A pred who exists in multiple states simultaneously, implied willing vore, implied fatal, implied digestion, implications of people being eaten in the past, magic and strange rules attached to that magic, some sexual situations. That aren't described in enough detail cause I am bad at it. Implied M/F vore, mentions of past instances of M/? Vore, If you like the Poem: The Spider and the Fly. You will likely see many similarities with this draft, if you have read that one source book for Changeling: The Lost that describes how someone should think of the True Fae as being both their kingdom and the actors within it. You probably know where I got the concept for the Pred existing in multiple states. If you have arachnophobia I'd strongly suggest NOT reading this draft as some of the imagery used may prove triggering. "Can I eat you Ida?" He asks softly, searching her eyes imploringly. "Would you allow me, the pleasure of unleashing my true self upon you? Of swallowing you whole and relishing your futile squirms as my stomach demonstrates just where we both know you belong?" She regards him attentively, considering him without disgust or fear, waiting for him to get to the point. So he continues. "Are you content with this mask I wear to lure prey in? Or could you accept the monster that lurks beneath?" Ida frowns at him thoughtfully and perhaps a little quizzically, it was an often unspoken but well acknowledged fact, that this body and his polite and genial personality were a lure. That at the heart his manor, lay his true self and the manor existed to ferry by trickery and fear those unfortunate souls who found it, towards his parlour door. Ida knew this, she was canny and had survived much longer than many of his "guests", to her this place was almost a true home, the shelter in the storm it appeared to be and Bastion was not a stranger, though he would always be an adversary, he was also something like a friend and when she allowed it something more. He longed to claim her, this mortal, who understood so well the rules of his domain, who understood if she disappeared into his parlour she would never be seen again. His stomach and heart equally ached at the thought of her leaving him, of her crossing outside the threshold of the manor one day and never returning. Of becoming the meal of a different monster when she left to forage for food, stubbornly and wisely unwilling to accept any food he offered her. Beneath the veneer of civility, the monster Bastion actually was, had become frustrated, not because prey might escape him, but because Ida might escape him, might go somewhere he couldn't follow and meet some fate he couldn't know. Hungry and alien as he was,he could think of no other solution, than to eat her himself, but none of his tricks phased her and so he was reduced to begging. She reached up and caressed his face, "Why do you look so saddened?" She asks, he holds the hand against his cheek, this is not his true body, but he treasures the touch all the same. "I do not wish to lose you" He confesses quietly. "I could so easily lose you, I cannot claim you on my own, I've tried so often, to close my jaws around you and drag you bodily into my web" He shakes his head at her suspicious expression, trying to convey that this is not another ploy merely a confession. "You know me too well my love, the longer you stay here, the hungrier I become for you." She crosses her arms "I'm not going to stop warning people to leave Bastion" She tells him her voice firm and resolute. He holds his hands up placatingly and shakes his head emphatically. "No, no, that is not what I meant, it is not that I am not fed, I do not mean to belittle your efforts, in defending other mortals, but many do not heed your warnings, or assume that you are on my side. No, it is not that I am starving for food, it is that I am starving for you, and you alone." He presses his forehead to hers. How he wishes he could touch her like this as his true self. The familiar suspicion in her eyes, is not as harsh as it once was long ago, it is more exasperated, less passionate, she does not trust him not to try and catch her. But she trusts him to not lie about their odd relationship. She trusts him to mean it when he confesses his hunger like a mortal might confess their undying love. He pushes her down firmly but gently holding her beneath him, wishing he could have her like this as he truly is. "Please" he implores "I need you, I want you, I yearn for you. Please, willingly come to me, please do not fear me, let me touch you, let me hold you, let me make love to you and then let me devour you and spit out your bones" He speaks it like poetry, like a lover asking to marry their beloved. Because for him it is. She has to understand that, she must know that, he has to make her see, that for him this is love, for him this is adoration. "Bastion" She says his name with a unique blend of exasperation and warmth. "I love you, it hurts me to see you so forlorn, But, you're asking me to die for you." "No my love" He denies, pressing his lips against the side of her neck. "I'm asking you to succumb to me, in body, in soul, in mind and in heart. Death is part of what I ask,but if you understood, it would not be fear of death alone that motivated your rejection. Even so, I beg of you, come into my jaws, I want you." He trailed spidery kisses along her body, she arched into him and he imagined her doing the same when his teeth were sharp and his mandibles were exposed. The trust, the attraction, the love but directed at the monster who would gobble her up without remorse. His stomach growled, the human one and the one inside his true body, the manor creaked in sympathy, a reflection of its masters longing. She was so beautiful and delicate, a butterfly he could never seem to pin, he longed to wrap her in his silk, to feast on her blood,to hear her call his name in a mix of fear and ecstasy, to have her understand what she'd done to him, have her experience it from the inside, have her understand how deep and twisted his hunger for her was, but also how wonderful, how unique, how special she was to him. She looks up at him and he feels as though she sees him, the real him, not the human host of the manor, nor the walls that surround them, but the spider at the center of this web. An eyebrow is arched at him, the look in her eyes is almost playful. "And? If I did give myself to you, how would you start your meal?" He stares at her surprised by her boldness, though perhaps he shouldn't be, how indeed? His grip on her tightens, he considers it. "At first I think, I'd just want to revel in the fact you were mine. In the fact the parlour door had locked behind you the second you stepped inside, in the fact you were before me, after so long seeing and experiencing you only through proxies." He bends and moves backwards as he speaks, lips gently trailing exposed skin as he travels lower and lower. "I would play with you, try to frighten you, test your resolve now you were before me, whether you became fearful or resolute, I would savour your responses to me, for though we have known each other for so long, I have never truly met you, nor you me." He spreads her legs apart and gently removes the white lace between him and his goal. Her breath catches as he trails kisses along her thighs, teasing and tantalizing with possibility before his tongue descends onto the soft folds of flesh below. She shudders and whines needily as he toys with and tastes her. Insistently and greedily he explores, until finally she finds it too much and comes for him. He pulls away and licks his lips playfully making sure she sees. He thinks about swallowing up the woman in front of him. He's undecided on if he would start at the head or the feet. But he knows either way he would be sure to taste between her legs thoroughly. He tells her so and she rolls her eyes at him, but he can tell she's pleased by the picture he paints, even if she's reluctant to give herself to him in reality. The possibility of convincing her to let him have her thrills him, the thought of having her knock upon the door to his true self willingly. He pictures it, her standing in front of his door, nervous but anticipating, unsure of what the monster beyond is truly like but generous enough to offer herself to him, Jittery like a bride about to meet her groom at the alter. Or a blood sacrifice about to die in an Aztec temple. She pulls him back towards her and touches the tip of his nose chidingly, no doubt able to tell he's thinking something devious about her. He snaps at the finger playfully, she shrieks and pushes on his chest with a pout. He grins and continues to answer her question. "I'd swallow you up, slowly and carefully at first, but soon my need for you would become too much, I'd begin wolfing you down, shoving you in, needily, licking and sucking and swallowing, until every last bit of you was sealed away within me. Only then would I allow myself to feel some modicum of relief, some shred of satisfaction." He nuzzled her affectionately. "Once you were within me, I'd be in awe, the lingering taste of you on my tongue, the way you're beautiful body stretched and filled my stomach to its limits, I'd be amazed at how good you were and how good you were still being. Cherishing the knowledge that after waiting for so long, you were finally mine to savour, mine to love, mine to keep. You'd be afraid, how could you not be? We both know what I am and what I intend. But even so when I speak to you, you'd find yourself calming down, trusting me, accepting that although this was going to kill you, you would find yourself no less in love with me and no less sure of my own love" "Bastion" The look in her eyes is awed by his confession, she is attracted to the danger in him, she always has been, but has she ever truly understood how intertwined his hunger for her is with his affection? He's spoken of it before but perhaps she's never truly comprehended. He continues determined to make her glimpse the world as he does. "When digestion starts, your fear returns, but even as I lose myself in the all encompassing pleasure of my body conquering yours. I still find time to tell you, that you are cherished, that you are loved. Your struggles intensify, you can't help it, my stomach is overwhelming, it's love for you has no limits or boundaries. Though you are so much more to me than a mere meal, in this movement, I am the eater and you are the eaten. I come in time with your death throes and as you succumb to me, I feel your soul relax and surrender willingly, trustingly to mine. Now, we are one, we are complete and there is nothing more to fear." She looks at him with longing of her own, for the first time he can tell that she's actually considering it. Was it truly so simple? Had he just needed to be honest with her? About what his hunger for her actually was? She intertwines her hands with his and draws in a shuddering breath, she looks at him seriously and asks "If I did say yes, would you truly still love me?" Of course he would! it confuses him that she would even need to ask. But then again, he has come to understand the young woman before him, just as she has come to understand him. Ida flirts with death and danger, quite literally in fact. She has willingly made her home in his hunting grounds, despite knowing all too well that is what they are. Is her fear of entering his parlour truly motivated by literal self-preservation? Or is it a more personal kind of loss? He squeezes her hands comfortingly and asks what to him seems a very simple question. "Why would I ever stop?" Tears fall from her eyes and he wipes them for her gently. It takes a little while for her to collect her self but eventually she sucks in a breath and exhales it gathering up the scattered pieces of herself to continue their conversation. "I want to be yours Bastion" She admits quietly, "But!" She holds up a hand before he can say anything. "I-I can't walk up to that door alone. I know you aren't allowed to take me across the threshold like this, but, could you walk me towards it? And the you on the other side of the door, I know you can drag people in if they get close enough, even if you can't actually leave. If you offer me your hand, I'll take it." He feels his heart sore, the true him in the parlour reflexively swallows the drool pooling into his mouth, the manor seems to brighten and calm shadows less long, walls less worn. He embraces her gratefully, She's so beautiful, so wonderful, she does not deserve to meet her end inside his true self's belly. But she's going to and oh how he's going to make her feel his gratitude for it. The him in the parlour, gets to work, fangs ache and chelicerae twitch, as venom is prepared, a venom infused with his endless gratitude towards the young woman who will soon come to him.Shaped by his desire for her, it is something that will ensure she enjoys what is to come as much as he will. He dearly hopes she recognizes his gift for what it is.
If my last draft post didn’t explicitly spell it out. I love the Spider and the Fly dynamic in vore. What I mean by that is I love Preds that can’t get to a prey unless they cross certain boundaries first and who slowly wear down a prey psychologically not with threats or meanness but with pure unadulterated charm and affection. Especially if it’s entirely sincere but entirely deadly regardless. There’s just something about a creature that can’t go against its nature to the point it doesn’t know how to not kill you, only how to lure you in with honey rather than vinegar. Also the tragedy of a prey who’s so used to being treated badly that there’s something almost comforting to them about knowing damn well that no matter how nice the pred is they’re ultimately still dangerous. Like the prey is so broken they can only accept the niceties because they know it’s coming from something unapologetically dangerous.
This probably says something about my own trust issues to be honest. But let’s not analyse that too much.
When the pred says they’d never harm you but their definition of harm doesn’t consider digesting someone and imprisoning their immortal soul harm.
I don’t usually like Observer scenarios cause I’m a pretty private person and I rather like the immense possessiveness and intimacy in vore. But if it’s to hammer into the head of a prey character what a pred character wants to do to them. I can be flexible. Plus I don’t really like making prey characters that are alright with watching someone else get eaten and digested, unwittingly turned on? Sure. Actively okay with what’s happening? Not so much. Kinda like how deliberately cruel Preds are a turn off for me. Incidentally cruel Preds? Ones that can’t help but take pleasure in the thrill of the hunt or the subjugation of another due to innate instincts? Those I’m fine with but Preds that don’t care about their prey are kinda a turn off. The sort of pred that would lovingly and dissonantly reassure their prey that they’re alright even as the prey can feel themselves dying. Is more my thing than the pred that delights in the fact their prey is suffering. I like tragedy and angst but I don’t really like when that tragedy and angst are linked to apathy or just someone being an asshole to someone else for its own sake. I like Preds who are doing their best to make sure their prey enjoys being eaten even if the Pred is delusional in thinking that the prey would ever be able to enjoy what’s happening to them. Similarly I like Prey that are conflicted about how it feels to be eaten. Like they don’t necessarily want to die but a primal part of them is attracted to their own death. Or maybe just this particular death at the jaws of this particular pred. Because vore is kind of a metaphor for a fear of intimacy when I write it. I feel like both parties should find it intimate even if they also can’t truly control it or handle it healthily. I also like yearning and longing. On both sides. This should be obvious from the fact that a lot of the longer things I’ve written focus on the anticipation of being devoured rather than the devouring itself. I think it can be pretty hard for be to write digestion scenes I’m happy with but scenes of the Pred longing to devour the Prey? I think I’m pretty good at that.
I love romantic willing prey in fatal vore, because the Preds know they are a monster and that what they desire is monstrous, that genuinely they don’t deserve to get what they want. And then the prey comes along and says “I know what you are and I accept you completely, even the parts of you that you think I shouldn’t accept, even the parts of you that you don’t accept yourself”
And that’s something that I think even a hungry twisted monster would be grateful to hear.
Metamorphosis Ida can’t help but lean into his touch, can’t help the way her heart hammers and responds to even his most blatantly monstrous pronouncements of love.
Bastion is not human, not even truly a person as most would understand it. But his love is utterly sincere, corrupting and hungry just like everything else about him, but sincere.
To Ida, who has never felt such honest devotion, it is terrifying yet enticing and the fact she will surely die if she gives into him. Seems to become less and less important the more time she spends with him.
She knows she is letting him get to her. She is being seduced into being his prey. But the spider has become trapped by its own cleverness. The love is real and it drives the monster to near madness.
Bastion is not human, he does not know how to be human. He knows only how to lure and devour. He knows this and begs her to come to him anyway. Begs her to allow him to have her.
In his own way, he is scared of losing her. Ida knows that from a human perspective Bastion is mad. Perhaps even from the perspective of his species he is equally mad.
For his hunger for her seems to frustrate and sadden him. He is attached, hopelessly so and it makes him all the more desperate to catch her.
His onslaught of her is relentless. The Manor tries its best to remove all semblance of fairness, in its desperation to ferry her to his parlour door. But even at its worst, the Manor is bound to fairness, it can do its best to feel relentless, but to someone who understands its rules and tricks as she does, escape is still a possibility and escape she does again and again. Until one day, the collected mask of her host breaks not with anger or frustration or malice, but with soft pitiful pleas. He begs her to let him have her, confesses his love, does not deny that it is twisted and hungry, monstrous and terrifying.
But begs her to feed herself to him regardless. She doubts she can trust this confession, but Ida is tired and lonely and the spider makes it so hard to remember how to think like a person.
When she finally finds herself in his web, He continues to act act as if he loves her. Sincere and utterly monstrous. She finds she can’t love him any less now that she knows, the thing behind the door is as in love with her as the human mask always claimed.
It should be impossible to recognise, the human mask in the hungry monster before her. But she does, she hears the love and adoration, the dark and deep hunger that can only grow in response to its attachment to her.
Bastion does not understand how to love like a person, the notion that his hunger would soften or fade in the wake of his devotion is incomprehensible.
He cannot be filled or satisfied so easily. At least not by love alone. But when he wraps his jaws around her and swallows her up.
She gets the sense that perhaps, if he finishes digesting her, he might be more human for it.
She has changed him, as he has changed her. He is not something that changes well or easily. She can feel that it pains him to absorb her, he loves her and he loves how it feels, but he’s not used to the souls he devours, staying, he’s not used to receiving love, any more than he is to giving it.
He clutches at his stomach and heart, calling her name in confusion, Unsure how to deal with her staying with him, he does not want to let her go. But does not understand how to sift through her human perspective.
He has no sense of conscience, no sense of restraint, but through her, he does. It’s confusing to him, so confusing to be so heavily influenced by the one he devours. He does not resent her for it, but he is afraid, so afraid, of these strange pangs in his chest of the liquid pouring freely from his eyes.
He does not comprehend guilt or remorse and yet their union lets him experience it. “What have you done to me?!” He pleads with her, but though he can feel her presence she cannot answer him as she is. “Ida please, I don’t understand” He sobs “I feel more satisfied than I have ever felt, so why?” She cannot answer but even if she could, she would not. He will learn now that she is with him. He will learn so many things, he could not before. And Ida is content, knowing he has not rejected her, even as she corrupts him from all he understands, into something new and complex. “You are what you eat” has never been more appropriate or more damning.
He groans in pleasure as he feels her soul beginning to struggle against his. He can taste all the parts of her he admires as though they are spread out across his tongue. As her physical body weakens inside his belly, her soul opens up to him, helpless and trapped on all sides by a stomach made to keep more than flesh.
“Oh Ida, you are every bit as beautiful as I knew you would be” He cooed, hunger and adoration intertwined.
Can she feel how beautiful she is to him? Or does his hunger overshadow that part of him even now? When all walls and secrets between them should be dissolving? He hopes not, he hopes his admiration sears her soul as deeply as his stomach acids sear her flesh. He hopes she drowns in his adoration, that she softens in his gratitude, that she is undone by his regard.
Her soul seems to recoil at the very idea that he feels so strongly. It is not that she does not desire him or recognise him. But rather, that she is afraid, afraid that his love will disappear if he sees any more of her, if he sinks his fangs too deeply into what makes her, Ida. She thinks he will reject her, that he will spit her out. She underestimates the depth of his hunger, the depth of his love. Even after he has licked clean every scrap of her, he is confident, he will never stop wanting more.
She cries out and whines as his stomach tightens, were she anyone else, it might have been simple fear, but here and now he senses that she is overwhelmed by the feelings inside him. She wants to be corrupted and overtaken, to drown in him and succumb to his twisted ravenous affection. She has never felt more loved and that truly scares her. She does not believe she deserves him.
Which is ridiculous, when it is he who does not deserve her. He is a monster, a predator, a hopeless glutton, who is at this very moment digesting the one person he values most in all the world. If she wants him as much as he wants her, who is he to deny her? To reject or abandon her? He is nothing but a simple minded spider, a gaping void of hunger that can never truly be fulfilled. If Ida wants him, all of him, then she has but to ask and he will lavish her in affection until she forgets where his love ends and she begins.
Thinking about the fact that though Bastion can make all kinds of mind bending venoms that numb or even enhance pain. His initial bite is incredibly painful. Then thinking about the fact this man would absolutely care enough about Ida’s comfort to wrap his thumb in silk and let her bite down while he bit her.
Reformation was invented so vore artists and writers could depict fatal Preds with crippling separation anxiety.
Sometimes I think about willing fatal where the prey doesn’t want to struggle or show fear because they don’t want to upset or hurt the pred, but like there comes a point during digestion where they’re running completely on instinct and they can’t NOT let on that they’re afraid. And instead of feeling disappointed in the prey, the pred just speaks gently to them like a scared animal, rubbing soothing circles along their softening form and letting them know it’s okay, it’s okay to be scared, they understand it’s scary, but the prey only has to bear with it for a little longer and then the two of them will be one.
I go absolutely feral when preds in vore refer to digesting the prey and say something along the lines of “no one will know where you’ve gone, it’ll just be our little secret”. Like fuck yes disappear me and act like it’s something intimate and sordid between the two of us. Or like a magician pred who after a show takes their volunteer or assistant back stage and says to themselves and their prey now that they’re in private as if it were a show just between the two of them “and now ladies and gentlemen I’m going to make *preys name* mnnn~ disappear <3”
I like soul vore and soul entrapment where the pred is entirely open about what they intend. Just the entire concept of someone admitting that when they say they want all of you, they really mean ALL of you. Is really great to me. But also the idea of a pred that doesn’t warn the prey they’re going to be stuck within them forever. Or if they do the prey doesn’t believe them or thinks they’re just talking metaphorically only for it to dawn on them once they die that they are literally trapped for eternity. I like that concept as well, just the dawning realisation that not even death is an escape.
What if a pred just straight up didn’t understand people’s objections to being eaten like: “Hmm? Oh! Don’t worry about them dear. Those are mostly screams of horror. I do my best to ensure digestion isn’t actually painful. They’re just being melodramatic. Honestly. I don’t know why you humans always get like this.”
I like to imagine that if someone else other than him tries to endanger Ida. Bastion becomes incandescent with rage. The thing is he’s not normally an angry person, or really that sadistic either, ghoulish and predatory sure, he enjoys hunting and eating. Gets excited at the thought of sinking his fangs into something, enjoys the whole process of devouring people etc and sure people can get really distressed and hurt when he’s hunting them, but it’s not really the goal for him so much as the inevitable consequences of a creepy spider monster being hungry and trying to eat you. He’s not a deliberate tormentor unless torment will get you in his jaws and once you’re his he generally doesn’t try to drag things out unnecessarily. But if someone went after Ida? That would be a different story. He would be very pissed and honestly quite scary. I think he’d have that calm rage that isn’t actually remotely calm but appears that way on the surface. Intellectually he’d probably have some inkling that he was being cruel beyond what was usual for him and that maybe torturing someone who’s already going to be his prey is just pouring salt in the wound, but he’d have such little experience with being angry and scared on someone else’s behalf that I don’t think he’d be able to find the breaks and it would be the person who decided to threaten Ida’s problem.
Me thinking about the fact that Bastion would definitely call Ida a good girl while digesting her.
The “sacrificed to a god” trope in vore is great but what I really like is when it turns out the prey actually knew the god in their human guise. Cause on the one hand the pred is someone they trust and care for but now they’re also this cosmic and mercurial force of nature that their community reveres and they’ve been sacrificed to. I like the idea of the prey struggling to reconcile all that. Especially if the pred seems on some level to be that person they knew but now they can see the bits that were always there, hidden just out of reach. The prey doesn’t want to die and it’s hard to reconcile that their friend would ask this of them. When they thought they were being sacrificed to just their people’s god it was something they weren’t happy about but they couldn’t say no to and had to do. But now that that god has a name and face they recognise it’s confusing they don’t know why their friend would make them go through this. They ask and their friend admits they are being selfish but informs the prey that they won’t give them up. That there’s no point being a god if they can’t take what they want and what they want is the prey.
I am a monster, that I cannot deny, but just because I am a monster, just because I fundamentally do not deserve acceptance, does not mean I do not crave it. Do you understand what seeing you in my web does to me? What you have given me by allowing me to catch you? You have granted me more than a meal Ida, you have granted me acceptance, unconditional love, nourishment that is both physical and spiritual. Gazing upon your beautiful face with eight eyes instead of two. It saddens me to think, I might never find a way to repay you for what you are offering me. For though I adore you, all I know of love is hunger, it’s something I am well suited for, after all I am my hunger and very little else, but is it worthy of you? You have chosen to speak to me in my own language, to be my prey, to allow me to feast. But what is your language Ida? What can I do to make you feel accepted? What can I do to make you feel loved?