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voraciousvore · 9 months ago

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Giganterra (Chapter 61)

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

Content Warning: soft vore/ endosoma, gore, fatality

Word Count: 3.1k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“My king,” the guard stated.

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

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

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

“Indeed.”

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

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

Final Chapter/ Epilogue

Tag List: @tinycoded360 @yummynomms @maybeiamdownbad

#tw vore #g/t vore #gt vore #vore writing #vore story #vore stories #soft vore #endosoma #micro vore #male vore #male pred #male prey #v.ore #v0re #v/ore

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spookyscarycreepydollgirl · 2 years ago

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You know I found an old notebook with some of my older vore content and you can really tell that I’ve gotten a lot better at writing sympathetic Prey and more complicated Preds. Cause my older stuff? Very much run of the mill fatal unwilling. Meek prey cruel pred stuff. That I remember often finding hard to marry to the themes of attraction and romance. Cause I wanted fearplay but I also wanted connection and to imply intimacy and I was grappling with how to juggle both. Also a lot of my older content was F/F because I wasn’t able to really face doing M/F content at the time. There was also a time when I wasn’t comfortable using labels like lover or girlfriend I found it hard to slip them into sentences naturally especially lover because of the implication of sex. So I’d write two characters that are very clearly supposed to be lovers and then say “best friends” because the idea of two people actually physically having sex enough that the term lover could be used for them freaked my younger self out. Sex repulsed was definitely the state of my mind back then so any sexual intimacy I wrote had to be non-consensual because the idea of the prey openly wanting sex was really hard to accept because the prey was an insert for me and I wasn’t ready to connect to a character like that. Now I’m planning out dialogue for a couple post very much consensual coitus and using male preds even though I avoided them like the plague when I started out. I still don’t think I want sex in reality but when you realise how many mental blocks I had around just writing a consensual sexual relationship it feels like I’ve really progressed as a writer but also because a lot of my creative decisions were a direct result of personal fears I don’t think it’s too out there to say I’ve also progressed as a person. Not that past me was lesser or anything but I think I’ve managed to make progress in tackling things she was unsure she’d necessarily ever escape the shadow of. So yeah I think in a sense I actually grew as a person and overcame some barriers just from continually writing vore as a hobby. Wild!

#vore talk #vore writing #It’s wild to think about really

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ao3-diablofic · 10 months ago

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by GoldFox20

During Diablo 3's Bastion's Keep arc, a solider is carried off by a flying hellbeast during battle.

CW: Contains nonsexual vore, torture, implication of fatal vore. Also, maybe slight spoilers for the game's plot.

Words: 3555, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Diablo (Video Games)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: Gen

Additional Tags: Vore

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/58909243

#Diablo IV #AO3

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vorish-ramblings-after-dark · 2 years ago

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Unoriginal fic title here

Another fic! Soft and safe vore with some fatal under the cut. If you need me to add tags, please don't hesitate to ask.

You are making your way back home after a long day of work at the port as the rain pours down on you. The thunder rolls in the distance and you shiver as the cold rain hits you. You really wish you had brought a jacket tonight. You freeze as you hear a deep guttural growl a bit ways off. You know the Zed-Stacks are out and about. You're not taking your chances tonight, and race for cover. You scan the area, not really seeing anything, until you spot a massive shape in the distance. You squint to try and make out what or who is off in the distance.

You realize it's Hercules. He's returned from another long few weeks away from the port out on the seas, and it looks like he's caught himself a little something. You watch as Hercules' powerful claws easily pull a sea serpent up to the surface. The serpent lets out a blood curdling screech before hissing. Hercules wrestles with it for a few moments, easily overpowering it. One would expect for him to just kill it before devouring it. However, that's not the case this time. You shudder a little Hercules opens his maw as wide as he can before he greedily shoves the sea serpent's head inside. The serpent writhes and tries to escape as the tug begins to swallow it down.

Most would turn and run seeing something like that, but you know that Hercules is relatively harmless, so as long as you don't disturb him when he's eating. Out pure morbid curiosity, you cautiously make your way closer to him, all the while trying to stay out of the rain. By the time you get close enough to him to get a really good look, the sea serpent is already three quarters of the way down. His stomach is already gurgling as the serpent fills his starved stomach, eagerly waiting to be filled to the brim with wriggling prey. Each powerful gulp easily pulling the sea serpent in further with each passing second.

You can't help, but feel sorry for the serpent, but at the same time, Hercules needs to eat too. Several more minutes pass, and he's finally reached the tail, which he easily slurps up before swallowing thickly a few more times, effectively sealing the sea serpent's fate as mere food for the massive tug. Hercules stifles a belch behind one of his anchor-like claws before sighing in contentment, relieved to finally have a decent meal in who knows how long. He picks up your scent, turning to look at you, seemingly surprised that you hadn't ran off like most humans.

"What brings you all the way out here in the cold rain, m'dear?" Hercules knows humans really can't withstand the cold and rain as much as a tug can, and it's not exactly a good thing for you to be out here for long. You can't help, but look towards Hercules' stuffed gut as it gurgles and groans contentedly around his massive meal.

"W-Well, I was just on my way home from work, and the rain started. I didn't bring a jacket or anything though." You reply, and look up at him. Hercules is silent for a few moments, as if thinking. Your heart drops a little as you hear a deep rumbling coming from within his body. How can he still be hungry? He picks up on your uneasiness before he smiles gently.

"Relax, m'dear. It's not my actual stomach. It's just my pouch. I'm afraid it's been for a little too long. Not the most comfortable feeling in the world, I admit.." Hercules chuckles softly. As tempted as he is to just snatch you up, he restrains himself. Although.. he could offer a bit of warmth and shelter from the cold rain. Nothing wrong with keeping warm and comfortable in his pouch for a few hours.. or perhaps the night. Of course, that is if you are willing to stay in his pouch for that long.

"Your… pouch?" You're not exactly well aware of the anatomy of a tug, but Hercules wouldn't actually eat you, right? At least, you know you're safe with him. The same can't be said about the Zed-Stacks.

"Yes, we tugs have pouches. It's a place where we can either store food, or even keep our Riders safe and sound. You know we wouldn't keep anyone in there if it weren't safe, or at least, I wouldn't." Hercules pauses for a few moments. "I suppose I can offer you some warmth until either the rain passes, or I could give you a place to stay for the rest of the night. You'd probably be safer tucked away in my pouch than out in the open like this. A Zed-Stack would be quick to snatch you up as a little snack." Hercules purrs softly. He has picked up the scent of at least one Zed-Stack in the area. It's not exactly safe for you to be out here like this, knowing a Zed-Stack could potentially be waiting for you to leave the safety of Hercules' side to snatch you up.

You think about it for a few moments. You know Hercules wouldn't harm you on purpose, and if it's safe for his own Rider to be tucked away in his warm pouch, it would be safe for you. He does have a point with the fact that a Zed-Stack would take up any opportunity they would see in order to get a quick and easy meal. The rain begins to pelt down harder. It's cold as ice, and that alone pretty much made you make your decision. You can't stand the cold anymore. You look up at him, and nod.

Hercules licks his fangs before ever so gently grasping you with his anchor like claws. He's doing his best to not seem so eager in swallowing you down, but the glint of hunger in his eyes is painfully obvious. However, you know you can trust him. Besides, he just ate an entire sea serpent. There's no way he can potentially want dessert to top off the massive meal he just ate. He opens his maw, and his warm breath washes over you, making the idea of being safely tucked away in his pouch not seem so bad after all. His glisten in the dim lights of the port as he drools with anticipation.

He ever so gently places you inside before carefully closing his maw around you. He's being as slow and gentle with you as possible. You rest on his tongue as his breathing reverberates all around you. Despite being covered in tug saliva, this isn't all that bad. It's definitely warmer than the cold rain outside. You're taken by surprise as his tongue gently pins you against the roof of his mouth. He purrs as he feels you squirm a little, enjoying the feeling of you wriggling about in his maw and savoring your sweet flavor.

After a few moments, he relaxes his tongue, letting you slide down into his awaiting gullet before he ever so gently swallows, slowly sending you down deeper into his body. The same powerful esophagus muscles that pushed the sea serpent down into his starved stomach with ease are extremely gentle with gently pushing and pulling you down, like an all encompassing embrace. You slow for a few moments, before he gently swallows again, sending you past his heart and lungs. The gurgling and groaning of his stuffed gut grow louder as you are pushed and pulled closer to your destination. He swallows a few more times, secretly grateful you trust him this much.

You easily slip into his awaiting pouch. The walls are incredibly soft, and have plenty of give to them, not meant to confine at all, more of to gently hold. The walls gently clench around you, catching you by surprise. The sound of his stomach hard at work at breaking down his massive meal is practically right below you. The sea serpent really isn't squirming much. His stomach has made quick work of the sea serpent, which is quite an unsettling thought. Then again, he was likely famished when he swallowed it down, so you really can't feel bad for it too much.

Hercules sighs, gently feeling at his pouch with his claws. "Are you comfortable in there?"

He stifles another burp behind his anchor like claws. It's a relief to finally have at least something in his pouch.

"Y-Yeah! I'm comfortable!" You call out, wriggling around a bit against the walls, prompting a purr from the Star Tug. The walls really aren't confining you or anything, letting you move around easily, more along the lines of gently holding you close.

"Good.. Now relax, and I'll let you out whenever you want. Just let me know, and I'll hack you up." Hercules purrs as he feels you stirring around in his pouch. You're not exactly filling, but you'll do for now.

"Okay.. thanks.." You settle down in his pouch. The walls gently hold and caress you as you relax, letting your aching joints rest after a long day of work. You hate to admit it, but this is way more comfortable than you thought it would be. His purrs reverberate all around you, relaxing you further. You wouldn't mind staying in here for a while, at least until the rain passes.

Hercules smiles as he feels you relax in his pouch before he makes his way back to the Star Dock. His stomach is still working hard at breaking down the sea serpent he had greedily swallowed down. He burps softly, softly apologizing to you before he settles down in his spot at the Star Docks. All of the other Star Tugs are fast asleep. No surprise there. None of them are usually awake when he returns home.

You begin to nod off. You could honestly sleep in here for the night. Surely, it wouldn't hurt and Hercules wouldn't mind, right? Besides, your boss can't really fire you for being late.. after being taken in by a tug. Sure, you gave Hercules permission to do so, but that doesn't mean you can't stretch the truth a little bit. Ever so slowly, you drift off to sleep.

Hercules sighs as he settles down, and relaxes, feeling that you've grown quite still, meaning you've likely fallen asleep. He doesn't mind it at all. If anything, that means he gets to hold you inside his pouch for just a little longer. He yawns like a cat, showing off all of his razor sharp fangs. All those weeks being out on the ocean really wore him out. Sure, he was able to sleep out on the ocean, but he is most comfortable at the Star Dock. He drifts off to sleep. Seems like you may getting a bit of a prolonged stay tonight.

#my writing #boatnoms #soft vore #safe vore #implications of fatal vore #if you know who it is you know

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brick-a-doodle-do · 3 years ago

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Some biological questions for chocolate Wilbur au or any nom one if you use the same logic and if you feel comfortable answering😌

Do the 'giants' in the scenario have like a second stomach or is it the normal one but due to the brains, or in the au instincts, that prevent them from being digested? Just a general explanation would be cool! I'm studying microbio and next year animal science so yoouu knooww thr stomach is covered a lot😅 thanks for all your speedy answers💜

ooh nom asks i love these :D also yep i'm always comfy w/ it >:)

okok sooo

ngl i am a basic person, so i'll spice this au up just a little bit, just for the potential angst :)

a human's body revolves strictly around instincts. if a human doesn't have instincts for a specific person, then being nommed will be harmful if not fatal for a tiny. but, seeing as tommy has instincts for wilbur, all is good and he can safely arrive in tommy's stomach without any harm being done (but, you know, the stomach is dark and humid. sounds like something else i know :3c)

oooh that's awesome :00 i hope you have/are having fun with it :D

#'thanks for all your speedy answers'#brickquiries #graci brickling #cw vore implication/mention #tw mention of fatal vore #*proceeds to answer this 8 hours later </3*#wilbur chocolate au

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smolcinnamonchipmunk · 3 years ago

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Prey who lose a very substantial bet in a Pred run casino and can only pay it back via noms (fatal or non fatal will work for this)

(I’ve been wanting to write something like this for a hot minute, but I never really knew where to go with this. I’m a huge sucker for bar/gambling stuff, but the way I like it is so specific that half the time *I’m* not even sure how to go about it. I was kind of tempted to do something with a Zootopia/Beastars kind of thing but decided to just go with G/t. There are so many kinds of branching ideas/different variations that I might eventually come back to something similar in the future.

I also have ZERO experience with casinos, so, uh, I kind of made some bullshit up with what little I know. Hence the absolute dumbassery of the main character in this, lol. The questions they ask?... Yeah, I was asking them to a friend that’s actually been to casinos and gambled.

That being said, hope you enjoy this! Sorry for, just, how *long* it takes to get to the vore. I speedran 80% of this last night too, so sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes!)

The Unlucky Clover

TW: Drinking; Unwilling, nonsexual, nonfatal, safe, soft oral vore; mention of drugs; implication/fear of digestion

Words: 7663

The lights and sounds as I opened the door and stepped into the casino were disorienting. Overwhelming for people like me who were more of the shut-in type and probably downright dangerous for anyone with phobias or sensitivities to this kind of thing. But, the whole stretch of street was lined with buildings flashing neon lights and music meant to catch passerby’s attention long enough for curiosity to set in so they’ll walk inside. I don’t think anyone came to visit with the thought of peace and quiet in mind.

Logically and cynically I knew that everything was meant to appeal to natural human faults to get people inside and keep them in, but I was also aware that I wasn’t immune to it. And, for tonight, that was fine. I was visiting, I’d never been to a casino, and I only had a set amount of money so that I wouldn’t go bankrupt.

The place I’d happened to walk into was called the Clover, probably meant to try and give people a ‘lucky’ feeling because of the whole four-leafed clover good luck thing. That was my best guess, at least.

Though, there wasn’t much green on the inside that I could see, mostly more attention-grabbing colors like reds and yellows. There also wasn’t a front desk, just a large entry landing that led down to the rest of the casino with a couple steps. There were a few ATMs against the wall beside a few palm plants, but other than that there weren't any, uh, normal entry procedures?

I don’t know, the closest thing I could think of to a casino that I’d been to were places like Dave & Busters where there was a front desk and people to greet you at it where you buy a game card or something and then you go inside after paying. This was so open and direct to the wall of slot machines between the entrance and the rest of the casino, it almost felt like trespassing.

But, what was more awkward? Standing around by the entrance to try and figure out where to go and what to do? Or wandering around doing the same thing, but you’re moving, so people are less likely to bother you?

I opted for the wandering around option.

I tried to not look as lost as I felt as I forced myself down the steps from the entry landing and walked past the first line of slot machines through a decently large gap between some. But, it wasn’t just one wall of machines. There were several rows in a weird staggering kind of pattern that I had to weave through to continue forward. Coupled with pillars, seats, and so many people, I almost immediately felt drained.

At the very least, I could see that people were just feeding the machines with cash bills. I knew gambling involved chips a lot, but I had no idea how those worked.

Past the initial, practically defensive wall of slot machines, there were more further inside, but they were scattered around the place instead of clumped up in such a hassling way. Probably to tempt drunk, desperate or tired people to think ‘Oh, just one more game’ and potentially milk whatever winnings someone earns back before they leave.

There were all kinds of game tables around and I could even see two mini bars on the floor. Poker, that weird game where you drop a ball and it lands in a wheel, someone was even playing some kind of VR gambling thing, and several other games that I probably knew the name of but wouldn’t be able to correlate to the unfamiliar tables and movements. And that was only what I could see, there seemed to be even more past pillars and machines that were all around the room.

Finding the main room a bit much for now, I decided to try one of the slot machines, sitting down at an empty machine and pulling out a dollar. Start off small, right?

I watched someone out of the corner of my eye so that I did the machine right, mimicking their motion and watched the little images flick by. Was it triple 7’s that were good? Was it different for each machine? There was probably some way to do this and I probably already fucked up, somehow, but I just told myself that I had a hundred dollar limit. Even if I lost it all just messing around with things, it wasn’t a huge loss.

The machine made its three noises as the images stopped on… a triple cherry? I wasn’t sure what that meant, but the little screen beneath the three pictures flashed “5$! 5$! CASH OUT OR KEEP PLAYING?”. So, I guess I earned four dollars? Curious, I selected “Keep Playing”. It asked me if I wanted to bet the five dollars or give it more physical money to use. I decided to give it another dollar and spun it again. This time, the slots were all mixed up and it gave nothing back other than the words on the screen, “OOPS! BETTER LUCK NEXT TIME!”.

Letting out a small hum, I nodded to myself as I filed away the new information. Scrambled icons meant a lost bet, got it.

So, I spent the next little while at the slot machines, alternating between giving the machine physical cash and using the winnings I slowly began to accrue. I got really excited when a ten dollar bet returned fifty dollars with another triple cherry and a few more dollars amounted to smaller winnings that also added, but my energy quickly began to fade as several more tries at the machine led to jumbled icons that meant another dollar wasted. Any remaining interest and excitement that wasn’t dwindled away turned into dismay when another play on the slots gave me three bomb icons that ‘destroyed’ whatever winnings were in the machine.

Whatever questioning I had about why people couldn’t just keep playing all night instead of cashing out low numbers was now answered.

“Goddamnit,” I hissed to myself under my breath, not even able to hear my voice over the drone of the casino. I mentally tallied how much money I’d lost to the machine and was relieved that I had seventy-eight dollars still, only having lost twenty-two to the slots. And I probably would have lost a lot more to my hubris and ignorance if the triple bomb hadn’t popped up.

Letting out a long exhale, I pushed aside the instinctive craving to continue and stood up. Weaving through people walking around and the gaming tables in the way, I walked to one of the bars in the massive room. I was thinking that, at the very least, I could have a drink or two to make coming here feel somewhat worth it before leaving even if I lost the rest of my hundred dollar allotment.

There were a couple people at the bar counter on the available stools, but most people seemed to just be walking up and grabbing their drinks to take back to whatever game table they were playing at.

I decided to sit at one of the stools near the end of the small bar, thankfully devoid of immediate bar neighbors on either side. I barely even settled and had the thought of what I potentially wanted to drink before the bartender quickly came over. Given the amount of activity and noise, I had been expecting at least a second to gather my thoughts before I was noticed.

“‘Ey, what can for you,” the bartender greeted, a woman in a black and green uniform. It looked nice, black button-up shirt and pants with a green swirly designed vest. There was a nametag, but I was too caught off guard to read it.

“Oh, uh, you guys do Amaretto Sours,” I asked, reaching for my wallet.

“Got everything for practically any named drink you could think of,” she replied, immediately pulling out a glass and shaker from behind the counter. “ID?”

I showed her my card showing that I was over twenty-one, and she nodded, quickly moving around the bar as she added the ingredients to the shaker and scooped ice into the glass from something behind the counter.

“Orange or lemon wedge,” she poured the drink into the glass over the ice and spun around to open the fridge.

“Uh, lemon wedge, I guess.” I’d never gotten Amaretto Sours with lemon wedges before.

“Alright, here you go,” the bartender turned back around with the finished drink, complete with the familiar single maraschino cherry and a lemon slice placed on the lip of the glass. She placed the glass down in front of me and turned to tend someone else at the counter, but I tried to catch her attention.

“Uh, wait,” I said, feeling a bit awkward when she turned back towards me. Sheepishly, I asked, “Don’t I, uh, need to pay?”

She blinked at me in surprise and confusion, replying, “Well, you’re not leaving the counter yet, are you?”

“I, well, no, but I’d rather pay for each upfront if that’s alright,” I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling like that was a very laissez faire way to go about alcohol payments. Then again, my experience was limited to only a few bars and this place had security, so maybe they were just really confident that would dissuade people from stealing or leaving without paying.

Besides, I couldn’t exactly start a proper tab without my card.

“Suit yourself,” the bartender shrugged after a couple moments, reaching for a card reader attached to the belt on her hip and pulling it off. She punched in a few buttons as I pulled out a ten - I decided she could keep the change if they couldn’t break a ten at the bar - and read out, “Alright, your total for one Amaretto Sour is-.”

“Taken care of.”

I jolted at the sudden voice from my right side, almost knocking over my glass as I looked over to see who was there. A tall dude who felt way too well-dressed compared to half the casino in vacation wear approached the counter on my right, basically taking the space and making a part of me grumble internally at the proximity. Giving him a glance over he had dark brown hair that was styled short and looked like he probably used some kind of gel or pomade, and his shirt was almost black compared to the far lighter tan of his pants.

“Uuuuh,” I frowned in confusion and surprise, trying to process his sudden appearance.

“Put it on my tab,” the man told the bartender, tapping the bar with a finger and I found my attention momentarily drawn to the glint of the rings on his hand in the casino light. There were three, one on every proper finger other than his middle.

Whoever this guy was, he must have been here earlier and given them his card already because the bartender nodded and printed a receipt to probably add to whatever other drinks the guy’s card had to charge him at the end of the night.

“I- you-you didn’t have to buy my drink,” I said automatically, the bartender already turned to take care of other customers. Unless I wanted to draw attention to myself trying to push for her to charge me instead, I was just going to have to live with the fact that this guy bought my drink. At least I already watched this one get poured, so I knew nothing was in it. That still didn’t stop the suspicion that came from some random person buying my drink.

“I know I didn’t have to, but I occasionally like to buy a couple people’s drinks when I'm here,” the man leaned on the counter with his forearms. I could see a couple people giving me some envious looks out of the corner of my eye that made me feel more self-conscious. Not like I *asked* him to buy my drink. “Name’s Arnoldo.”

“Right… well, thanks, I guess,” I took a sip from my drink, hoping that the man - pardon me, *Arnoldo* - would take the hint and just kind of… leave me alone.

Of course, he didn’t.

“You ever been here before,” he asked, dangerously close to the cheesy kind of pickup line that everyone knew about and I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes.

“Nope,” I replied, wondering how rude chugging my drink and just walking away would be. I settled for just taking another, larger swig of the Amaretto Sour, internally sighing and hoping that he would eventually become bored and walk away if I forced myself to only give small responses.

“Hmm,” Arnoldo seemed to struggle with my short reply, eventually saying, “Well, how are you liking it so far?”

“Uh, it’s alright, I guess,” I shrugged, glancing back towards the rather overwhelming room. “Bit loud for my tastes, but I figured I’d give it a shot.”

“Well, it is a casino. They’re not exactly known for being the quietest places on Earth,” the man chuckled, making my face heat up a bit in embarrassment.

“Well, I know that, but you asked how I liked it,” I took an embarrassed gulp of my drink, focusing on the burn it caused down my throat to try and distract me from it. “I was just being honest…”

“Ah, sorry, I didn’t mean it any type of way,” Arnoldo quickly responded, seeing him raise his hands a bit in the universal gesture of meaning no harm. The motion caught my attention and I looked over to see him look mildly apologetic. Giving him a bit more of a look, he seemed friendly, at least. I still wanted to keep up my guard, of course, but he sounded sincere. “I just think it’s kind of funny that someone would comment on something so expected. I take it that you don’t get out much then.”

“Not really, no,” I said, swirling my glass. “Coming here was kind of just a bucket list, giving it a try sort of deal. ”

“Well, what have you tried so far?”

“Uh… slots?”

“That… That’s it,” Arnoldo asked, raising an eyebrow. He shifted to look at me a bit more fuller, leaning entirely on his right arm as he turned to face me. “I hope you were at least going to try one of the other games. Just playing slots isn’t a very good experience.”

“I don’t know, maybe. I don’t know how any of the other games work,” I downed the rest of my glass anxiously, not really wanting to divulge that I had been planning to immediately leave. Placing the glass on the counter, it was quickly swept away by the bartender, who was quick to place it out of sight where used cups were probably stacked to be cleaned.

“You wanting another one,” she asked, and before I could respond to her, Arnoldo did.

“Put it on my tab if they’re getting another,” he said, giving the counter a tap. “And I’ll actually have an Irish Coffee for myself.”

I frowned, not really wanting all of my drinks to be on him, but sighed. “I guess I’ll have another Amaretto Sour… I should probably head out soon, I have to go meet a friend back at the hotel later.”

A lie, but maybe the thought of someone expecting me somewhere would prevent the guy from trying anything. Especially with another drink on the way.

The bartender nodded and started making both of our drinks, something I tried to keep an eye on still.

“I won’t stop you from leaving, but surely I can try and help you try some other type of game,” Arnoldo suggested, gesturing to the rest of the casino floor. “I’m sure you can get a hang of Blackjack, at least.”

“Uhh, which one’s Blackjack,” I asked, grabbing my glass as the bartender slid it to me and watching her walk over to the tiny coffee pot that had started boiling. Having seen nothing be poured or placed in my drink other than the normal ingredients, I took a sip as I mulled over the potential danger of accepting his offer to help me play a game.

“Card game,” he said, looking towards where I assumed the Blackjack tables were. “Basically, everyone gets handed a card at a time and can ask for another card or to stay and hold their number. You’ve got the Ace’s through ten which amount to the number they are with the Jacks being eleven, Queens being twelve, and the Kings being thirteen. The aim of the game is to try and get as close to the number twenty-one without going over against the dealer. Whoever gets the closest to twenty-one, or whoever gets twenty-one gets the amount they bet from the dealer. During home games, whoever gets closest gets the pot.”

“... Pot?” I asked, frowning a bit in confusion. The surprised look on his face told me that I’d questioned something rather basic.

“The pot is the collective of chips people bet on the game,” Arnoldo explained, smiling in amusement.

“Oh,” I sighed in exasperation at myself, planting my face in my palm with a groan. “I- sorry. You were explaining the mechanics of the game, so I thought it was a game thing…”

“Well, it is a game thing, but that’s just what the bets are called across the board.”

“Cool, cool. Well, learn something new everyday,” I dropped my hand from my face and took a swig of my drink. Even if I felt embarrassed to all hell, at least I still had the alcoholic tang of my Amaretto Sour.

“If you’re willing, I can help you out with one round,” he said, grabbing his Irish Coffee as the bartender finished it up and placed it on the bar counter.

I hummed a bit in thought. Part of me wanted to just go to the hotel I was staying at and just chill for the rest of the night. But, another part of me was curious about the other games, and if someone was willing to kind of show me the ropes, then my curiosity was peaked a bit further. And damn if I wasn’t a sucker for my curiosity.

“Eh, fine,” I swiveled in my barstool and hopped off with my drink in hand. “One game, then I’ll probably head out.”

“Sounds good to me,” Arnoldo straightened from his leaning position. I didn’t realize how tall he was while he was leaning beside me, but when he stood up I had to crane my neck to look up at him. I don’t even think I was shoulder height for him. He took a sip of his Irish Coffee and started walking towards one of the tables, saying, “Blackjack’s this way.”

“Uh, right,” I trailed behind him as he walked towards the tables. Whether he was mindful of his stride for me or he was slowed by the amount of people walking around, I was just glad I wouldn’t have to awkwardly trot behind him or speedwalk with the risk of spilling my drink. Eventually he slowed beside a semi-circle table with a person in green and black uniform on the flat side and an empty curved side with markings on the green surface. The table could hold five people along the edge, so with Arnoldo and I it left three spaces for others.

“Hey there,” the man behind the table greeted, pausing in his shuffling of cards.”Welcome to Blackjack! You waiting on anyone else?”

“No, no, just my friend and I here for now,” Arnoldo stated, placing his Irish Coffee in the cupholder at his spot.

I did the same for my drink at my spot after taking another long swig of it. I could already feel the slight fuzziness that came with becoming tipsy, so I decided that two was good enough for me.

“Alright, how much are each of you betting,” the dealer asked, shuffling the cards one last time before placing the deck face-down in front of himself.

“Uh, ten dollars,” I said, pulling out a ten and handing it to the dealer. He put the cash in a pack on his hip and placed a single chip with the number ten on its side in the little circle icon in front of my spot.

“I’ll be betting fifty,” Arnoldo drank from his Irish Coffee for a moment. The dealer didn’t ask for any cash and Arnoldo didn’t offer any cash or card. Yet, despite that, the dealer nodded and pulled out a chip with ‘50’ on its side and placed it in his circle.

I didn’t make a comment, shrugging internally. The guy did say that he was here often, so he was probably recognized. That, and if he had a tab already going, then the staff might have a way of knowing whose card was at the bar.

The dealer took a card off the top of the deck three times and placed one in front of himself, Arnoldo, and I. Respectively, the numbers ended up as ‘10’, ‘5’, and ‘8’. He looked between us and asked us if we wanted to stay or continued, and we obviously both decided to continue. All of us ended up less than ‘21’ still, with the closest being Arnoldo at ‘17’ with a Queen added to his cards. One more round went around and I ended up with ‘20’ while both the dealer and Arnoldo went over twenty-one.

“Congratulations on your first win,” Arnoldo said as the dealer reached into the chip holder and grabbed a ten chip to slide towards me. “You’ve doubled your chips with it.”

“What about your chip,” I asked, gesturing to his fifty chip before grabbing my Amaretto Sour and drinking some more for a moment.

“Since the dealer and I both went bust in the same turn, it’s considered a tie here,” he explained, drinking the last of his Irish Coffee. He flagged down one of the staff walking around with drinks and empty glasses on trays, placing his glass on the tray with a ‘Thank you’ and ordering another Irish Coffee. I suppose they floated around in case people didn’t want to leave their tables to go to one of the bars. “Neither I or the dealer pays the bet.”

“Makes sense, I guess.” I glanced down towards my two ten dollar chips. It wasn’t a substantial leap, but it also hadn’t been a substantial bet. And yet, I felt a bit of serotonin at the win that mixed with the warm buzz pleasantly.

“Are you playing another round,” the dealer asked, reshuffling the card deck.

Arnoldo didn’t answer first this time like he had with the bartender, instead looking at me expectantly to let me answer. I hummed a bit, checking my phone to check the time for a second before shrugging and going, “Sure, why not? All in.”

I slid my second ten dollar chip into my betting pool and Arnoldo nodded, adding, “I’ll also play another round.”

The dealer nodded and we proceeded to play again. And again. And again.

More people even came and joined the table to play between rounds, and I wasn’t as anxious with my one and a half glasses of alcohol in my system. I would even hazard to say that I was enjoying myself, even as I lost a round that I had bet twenty dollars on. It wasn’t that disheartening when I’d managed to double my bets a couple times with more money than I came in with in the amount of chips.

At some point I decided to try some other games at Arnoldo’s suggestion, taking my glass with me and the chips I’d gathered. The glass felt heavier, but attributed it to my buzz since it still just tasted like Amaretto Sour to me.

I tried Poker, but only played a few rounds since I found it difficult to bluff, though I did win the last game surprisingly. Taking sips between games, we played Baccarat, Craps, Roulette, and I eventually found that we’d made our way back to another Blackjack table. My head swam at this point, but I was having a good time, taking another swig of my drink as I won another Blackjack game with a full ‘21’.

“Yes,” I exclaimed, the rush of serotonin more prominent in my drunken state. The dealer handed me a hundred dollar chip that I added to my collection that had slowly grown over the night. I think I had about five hundred dollars worth of chips on me.

“You’re having much more luck than I,” Arnoldo sighed, crossing his arms after sliding his bet of fifty dollars to the dealer that accepted with a smile and placed it in the box. The man tapped a finger against the table, rings glinting, and suggested, “How about a round of Ultimate Texas Hold’em?”

“What’s that,” I asked, sipping my Amaretto Sour and leaning on the edge of the Blackjack table.

“It’s like Poker,” he started to explain, laughing when I made a face. “Now, hold up, hear me out. It’s only against the dealer, not the dealer and everyone at the table, so you should have an easier time of it. There’s a few other rules that I think would make it easier for you as well.”

“Mmmm, yeah, why not,” I straightened, making sure I had my chips and everything else. Thankfully, I hadn’t lost my wallet or phone despite my brain feeling so light from alcohol.

I followed Arnoldo to a different corner of the casino floor, checking my phone on the way. I probably should go soon, it was already after midnight. Though the casino was open 24/7, I could tell that I was properly drunk and questioned if I was going to have gaps in my memory tomorrow, wondering just how much Amaretto liquor was in my drinks.

Reaching the Ultimate Texas Hold’em table, which was just another Poker table, Arnoldo tried to explain the game to me. I tried to listen and retain the information, but it slipped through my memory immediately. Oh well, I’d just have this be my last game of the night.

“Hey, I think I’m gonna head out after this,” I told Arnoldo, seeing him flick his wrist to look at his watch and check the time, nodding his head.

“Better make this one count then, huh?” he asked, settling in one of the chairs.

“Yup,” I sat down and chugged the rest of my drink, finally finishing it after a couple hours of games. I felt like I should have finished it a long time ago, but better late than never. I placed the glass down and heard the dealer ask about our bets, hearing Arnoldo say ‘five’ something, immediately thinking he said ‘five hundred’ and telling the dealer, “I’ll match.”

I saw them blink in surprise before shrugging and the game started. I could barely focus, the numbers and symbols on the cards practically swimming in front of my eyes, so I wasn’t surprised when I ended up losing to the dealer. I groaned and sighed as I tossed down my hand in defeat, pulling out my chips and sliding them towards the dealer.

“And, the other forty-five hundred,” the dealer asked, the question catching me off guard in my tired and drunk stupor.

“I- forty-five hundred?” I repeated in confusion, looking at the dealer with a frown.

“Mr. Lason bet five thousand and you said you’d match,” the dealer said, nodding towards Arnoldo who was sipping on another drink.

“I..” I blinked a bit in slack-jawed surprise, jolting in my seat. “Sh-Shit, I’m sorry, I don’t have anything more than my chips other than, like fifty dollars! I left my card to try and not have this happen. Is there, uh, is there a way I can pay in increments?”

The dealer frowned and opened their mouth to say something, but Arnoldo interrupted, pulling his glass from his lips and offering, “How about you play another round? Double or nothing. If you win, you get ten thousand.”

“But if I lose again, that just means I owe ten thousand,” I protested, any pleasantness from drinking gone. Now it was only the fuzzy swimming of my scrambled thoughts and panic as I realized that I’d unintentionally fucked up.

“True, true,” Arnoldo placed his glass down and seemed to think something over, though it seemed fake to me. Maybe that was the alcohol. After a second or two, he suggested, “How about this? Since I suggested it, if you lose, you just have to let me get you one last drink and you won’t have to worry about the payment.”

“I- What,” I asked, shaking my head in confusion. I couldn’t have heard him right. “You want me to play one more round, and if I lose I don’t have to worry about the payment and you’ll just get me one last drink?”

“That’s correct,” he replied, waiting for my response.

A bad feeling settled in the pit of my stomach, but I didn’t know whether it was the alcohol or the panic of potential debt to a casino. Arnoldo was giving me an out, even willing to take responsibility of my loss. I just hoped he wouldn’t go back on his word.

“I-I guess I don’t have many options,” I sighed, trying to shake off my drunken daze. I needed to be as clear-headed as possible for this next round, but I doubted I’d be able to win. At the very least, I only had to have one last drink. “Thanks, Arnoldo.”

Looking at the dealer, I begrudgingly said, “Double or nothing.”

The dealer nodded, dealt the hands, and I found myself beat within minutes despite trying my hardest to focus and win. I could feel a stress headache coming on, but at least the ordeal was over. I looked towards Arnoldo, half-expecting the man to not even be there to leave me with a ten thousand dollar mistake. But, he was still sat there in his seat and flagged over one of the walking staff's attention to order me another drink.

“Well, you tried your best,” Arnoldo placed his glass on the waiter's tray, glancing at them and adding, “Amaretto Sour, please.”

“Didn’t make much of a difference,” I groaned, scrubbing my face with both hands for a second as the waiter walked away. Looking towards him, I apologized, “I’m so sorry I fucked up like that, but thank you *so* much. I really owe you, dude.”

Even though I had zero idea of how to repay the favor.

“Well, good news is that I’m pretty sure that’ll be easy to do.”

“Really,” I asked, surprised. And a bit suspicious.

Arnoldo let out a confirmative hum as the waiter came back with my drink rather quickly thanks to our close proximity to one of the bars, grabbing the glass while I groaned and buried my face in my hands tiredly with the feeling of shame and embarrassment. I looked up after a moment, taking the glass as he held it out to me with a quiet thanks.

I drank a swig of the drink, grimacing with the knowledge that I was going to wake up with a lot of regret tomorrow and asked, “Do I have to drink all of the glass?”

“No,” Arnoldo shook his head. “A sip was fine. I’m not gonna stop you if you want to finish it.”

“That- Okay,” I said in confusion, shaking my head to try and clear it before taking another sip. I stood up with the intent to return the cup and added, “Well, thank you again. I really need to head to my hotel though.”

“I don’t think you’re in much shape to be left on your own,” the man replied, though he didn’t stand up from his seat.

“It’s not too far, I think I can handle the walk,” I turned to walk to the closest bar, barely making a few steps before a wave of dizziness washed over me. I gasped in surprise, quickly reaching out to catch myself as my knees buckled beneath me. An arm around my abdomen stopped me from falling all the way to the ground and a hand caught my drink, though it did end up spilling.

“Oh dear,” Arnoldo’s voice was right beside me and I was helped to my feet. “Perhaps that last drink was a bit much with the ones you’d already had.”

��I-I don’t know why they’re affecting me so much,” I frowned, head swimming more. It took a considerable amount of effort to not slur in my nauseousness. “I only had two.”

“You had a bit more than two,” the man replied, confusing me further. He walked to the bar and handed the bartender the glass. I think they asked if I was alright, but another wave of dizziness had me mostly just focusing on not hurling. I just heard Arnoldo’s answer. “Don’t worry, they’ll be taken care of.”

My vision swam as he walked me from the bar, closing my eyes against the feeling and opening them blearily. In what felt like less than a second, the surroundings were a normal hallway. It took me a bit of effort just to ask, “Where are you taking me?”

“My office,” Arnoldo said, just as we reached a door at the end with a plaque on the front. He opened the door and stepped into a fancy-looking office. There were cushy-looking chairs in front of the desk and he maneuvered me into one, commenting, “If I knew you were going to be such a lightweight, I wouldn’t have replaced your drinks as much as I did.”

“You replaced my drinks,” I asked in alarm, almost doubling over as a fresh wave of nausea hit me.

“I did, yes,” the friendly demeanor from the man was still kind of there, but it felt fake now. Now he spoke politely but sounded very business-like. “I didn’t put anything in them if that’s what you’re worried about. Well, not until the last one. You were a lot luckier than I was expecting, so it took longer than I thought.”

“Wh-What did?”

“You becoming indebted to the casino,” Arnoldo nonchalantly walked to a glass cabinet against the office wall, taking out a container of what I assumed was alcohol and poured himself a glass. “We run a clean establishment here, so no one can be indebted by betting more than they have.”

“Wha- Why indebt *me* then,” I exclaimed, not even sure if that was grammatically correct but not caring with my mind swirling from the alcohol and my thoughts. I watched him walk back to the desk and lean backwards against its front edge while sipping his drink. With my hunched over and nauseous position in the chair, he seemed even taller than before.

“Luck of the draw,” he replied. “Sometimes, I feel a bit peckish so I walk around the casino to look for unsavory folks. Sadly, there weren’t any around tonight and you seemed like a rather easy mark.”

I blinked a bit in confusion, struggling to wrap my head around his statement. He felt kind of hungry and decided to purposefully try to have me lose to the casino and go into debt? That literally made no sense to me. Was I in some kind of drunken fever dream? I supposed my confusion was very apparent on my face because he sighed as though this was incredibly inconvenient to him.

“You’ll see when it kicks in fully,” Arnoldo said, taking another swig from his glass.

Eyes widening with the fear of being roofied, I opened my mouth to try and demand what he meant, but yelped when another wave of nausea interrupted me. Not just nausea, but dizziness and sudden soreness over my entire body. I must have blacked out or passed out because the next thing I registered was opening my eyes against light that felt too bright and pushed myself up from a laying down position. Blinking away colored spots in my vision, I thought that I had to be dreaming.

There was no fucking way that I was actually suddenly tiny on the chair I’d been sitting on.

“There we go,” Arnoldo’s voice caught my attention, making me yelp in panicked surprise when I looked towards it and saw him. He was still leaned against the desk, but now he was absolutely *towering*. He straightened, placed his glass down on the desk and reached towards me on the chair seat, easily scooping me up in his hand despite me quickly trying to scramble away.

“A-Ah, what the fuck, p-put me down,” I shouted, struggling in panic against his hold as I was lifted. I could feel his fingers shift to get a better grip on me, his other hand cupping beneath me, probably in case I managed to wriggle from his grasp.

“Hey, hey, keep squirming like this and I might end up dropping you,” he said. Not threateningly, just as a fact.

That didn’t dissuade me from it whatsoever, not until I realized how high I was in comparison as I saw the floor far down below. My body was torn between continuing to struggle and holding onto one of the fingers to try and increase my chances of not falling to the ground. It eventually decided that falling would be worse for now, instinctively clutching onto one of the fingers around my waist and legs, while I repeated to myself, “This can’t be happening, this can’t be happening.”

“Sadly, for you, it is,” Arnoldo walked around the desk and settled in the chair behind it while holding me in front of his face. Eyes that seemed friendly before now had a glint that sent a shiver down my spine. “And you’re about to repay the little favor of looking past your debt. At least a portion of it. Ten thousand is an awful lot, you know.”

“I- Wha- What favor requires me to be-be… f-fucking tiny,” I exclaimed, struggling against the surrealism of the situation and my residual drunkenness. If this was a nightmare, it felt very real and terrifying.

“Like I mentioned before, I tend to do this when feeling peckish. It’s a particular kind of hunger,” he replied, reaching across the desk to the glass of alcohol he’d set down before, taking a brief sip before placing it down. “Let’s say… hmmm, I believe a thousand dollars per session seems fair, no? No more than a day for each. Of course, I’ll need to take into account your availability, unfortunately. I can’t exactly have you missing for more than a week straight. Cou-.”

“W-Wait, wait, wait,” I interrupted him, mind swirling as I tried to comprehend what he was saying. “What are you talking about?! What the fuck do you mean by ‘session’, and I’d rather not go fucking missing at *all*!”

“Dear, if you haven’t figured it out by now, I don’t think spelling it out for you is going to help,” Arnoldo furrowed his brow a bit, looking slightly concerned. Mostly, though, he looked a bit impatient and irritated at being interrupted. Not to mention that he still had a look in his eye that seemed to intensify. “Hmm, you may be too incapacited for any logistics talk… Well, we can discuss arrangements in the morning when you’re sobered up. For now, let’s get your first night out of the way.”

“I- wh-what are you talking about, what do you mean, woAH, WOAH, WOAH,” I cried out in panic as I was shifted closer to his face and a little above. The hold on me shifted so that the backs of my hoodie and shirt were pinched between the first two fingers and thumb of his hand, and his mouth opened to reveal the inside. I saw strings of saliva break, teeth the size of my head, and the tongue that extended slightly to cover the lower incisors. Surely, just surely, none of this was real, right? There was no way that I was this small and there was no way that I was about to be eaten, right?

Regardless of what I thought, I was jolted from my shock as I realized that I was being lowered towards his jaws, protesting and trying to tuck my legs beneath me. I could feel his breath against my ankles, could smell the alcohol and coffee on his breath from drinking earlier, and felt the humidity already start to dampen my shins.

The tongue shifted as I was lowered, extended further and curled beneath my feet to forcibly straighten my legs, something I tried to kick and squirm against. It amounted to nothing, grimacing as my legs were lowered into his mouth and immediately felt saliva soak into my pants on contact with his tongue. It bucked beneath me, licking at my legs for a second before more of me was lowered inside. I tried to brace my feet against the roof of his mouth but found myself unceremoniously forced the rest of the way into jaws, the fingers retreating and teeth clicking shut before I could try to clamber out.

“A-Ah, let me out,” I shouted in panic, knowing my cries would fall on deaf ears given that he didn’t react to any of my other protests. The space barely felt big enough to fit me, able to feel the tongue shifting beneath my back, ridges of his palette against my hands as I tried to press away, and the feeling of his throat against my ankles.

The tongue beneath me jolted and bucked, making me yelp in fear as it started lapping at me, soaking me in drool that clung to my clothes and hair. I squirmed against the movements of the tongue, my arms and legs shaking from fear and exertion as I struggled. Everything rumbled around me for a second and I realized that he was making a pleased hum that rattled me to my bones as though I was a mouthful of delicious food. Which, given the fact that he was fucking EATING ME, I probably was to him. The thought wasn’t pleasant.

After several seconds of intense tasting that left me gasping for breath, I blinked in confusion at some nudging from the tongue. Confusion that turned into more fear and terror as I realized that he was situating me closer to his throat to be swallowed, barely able to register what was happening before my ankles were tugged harshly and a loud swallow overwhelmed my senses.

I was dragged down into his esophagus, pushed and pulled by his throat muscles that constricted around me, making it hard to take in a breath. Blood rushed in my ears, the sound overshadowed by Arnoldo’s breathing and heartbeat as I was forced past. Seconds that felt like forever went by until I slipped into the more open space of his stomach, the air permeated with the scent of alcohol and coffee despite there barely being any at this point.

I tried scrambling to my feet to press as far away from everything, but the constantly moving walls and malleable lining made it difficult, falling back into the nearest wall and flinching.

“Mmm, you’re safe, by the way,” Arnoldo hummed a bit more above me, and I was able to feel him shift. There was a slight increase of pressure on one side of the stomach, making me flinch away. “I doubt you believe me, but I’m not going to say ‘no’ if you want to continue struggling.”

“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN I’M SAFE,” I shouted, instincts not helping me stop freaking the fuck out. Being eaten wasn’t supposed to be *safe*! I wanted to scoot away from everything, but there was no way to get away from the stomach I was inside of. The moving walls didn’t help with my swirling head.

“I mean that you’re safe. Nothing’s going to happen with you in there,” he replied, shifting again. I was confused for a second when I heard a very faint sound before realizing it was papers rustling. “You’ll be there until morning, where you’ll be let out so we can discuss your other ‘sessions’.”

I struggled to think, trying to recall what he’d said earlier about the sessions past the fear of the situation, eyes widening and exclaiming, “W-Wait, I’ll have to do this n-nine more times?! Y-You can’t be serious!”

“I am. I’m afraid you don’t have much of a choice. You’re still technically indebted. I gave a deal where you wouldn’t worry about payment by accepting a last drink, leading to this arrangement. If you’d prefer, you *could* try to scrape up enough money to pay the ten thousand dollars.”

I quieted, not certain how serious he was. My mind was also still doing spins, part of me wondering in panic if he was lying entirely about it being safe or if he’d let me die if I refused this ‘deal’. A large part was still in denial about any of this being real. Was I not able to focus due to being drunk or was I exhausted?... What time was it?...

Arnoldo decided to take my prolonged silence as either acceptance or thought, which was kind of correct. He hummed a bit and said, “How about we talk about it in the morning, hmm? Give you the time to sleep on it and process.”

“I-I guess,” I replied. Grumbling tiredly, I rubbed my hands against my face to try and clear my head, my eyes feeling far more droopy than before. “God, I hope this is just a nightmare and I’m going to wake up…”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

#soft vore #safe vore #g/t vore #g/t #cinnwrites #cinnanswers

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jkknight98 · 4 years ago

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3rd times not the charm, neither is the 5th

It took me a while, but I finally finished the 5 in one story that was requested of me, Tommy wasn't really dealt the best hand in this story, but it looks like it might turn out well in the end?? That's for you all to judge

I hope you guys enjoy this story and remember to drink water and eat something today~

Warnings: fatal vore implications, mild blood mention, soft vore, safe vore, Tommy calling himself a monster, dehumanizing language.

Tommy was frantic as he coiled tighter around the squirming man and he puffed defensively at the larger naga before him, he never wanted Wilbur to see this side of himself, but he also couldn’t let him be eaten by his former mentor Dream. The larger being was frowning deeply under the painted mask, letting out disapproving noises as it circled him,” I don’t understand Tommy, the long play is over isn’t it, your supposed to eat those once they let down their guard,” the frown turned into a teasing smile as a hand gently ruffled his hair,” or did you get attached to it?”

Tommy let out a loud hiss and bared his fangs in anger at Dream, the terrified whimper that came from Wilbur almost made him stop, but he had to keep up the act if there was even a sliver of a chance of him surviving. “ Of course I didn’t get attached, I was going to see how long I could get easy food off the family before you ruined it by blowing my cover!” It took everything in him to not turn to apologize to Wilbur when he heard the betrayed gasp, and even harder to hold in tears as the man started to yell abuse at him, how everything that they did tother was for nothing. He had to ignore it though as he kept a steady look at Dream, who only just smiled at the hybrid’s reactions.

“ Well, if you didn’t get attached, go ahead and eat them then,” The larger naga leaned closer towards the squirming male before Tommy could jerk him away and flicked his tongue across Wilbur’s face and caused the glasses to get crooked as the elder leaned back and licked at his lips,” Otherwise I wouldn’t mind eating them myself, they might be a bit too big for you.” The bright green tail slowly made its way across the red one, but the siren hybrid was jerked away before the tail could get a good grip.

Tommy hissed again and placed himself to hover his upper body over Wilbur, placing his hands on the shaking shoulders to balance as he looked down on the male he considered a brother. He quickly worked his jaw loose and open wide, but not before closing his eyes tightly, he would break if he continued to look at the now tear-covered face. The moment he felt his brother’s head enter his mouth, tongue already tasting a bitter coffee flavor under the salty tears, he thought back to the times he tried so hard to hide this side of himself from his found family.

Strike One meeting

The first time was when Tommy ran into the family when he was about eleven in human years. He had gotten pissed with Dream trying to control his every action again, it was annoying and unfair in his eyes. So what if he wanted to walk around in his human form, he had clothes from the previous hunts, so it wasn’t like he was indecent. He just wanted to see how things were for the humans.

Tommy couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he took wobbly steps from rock to rock, giggling to himself as he felt the soft sensation of moss between the things called...toes if he remembered right. Why didn’t Dream want him to be in this form more often, sure his tail was a lot tougher and way stronger, but he felt like a deer with how his legs moved. Tommy gave a loud gasp as one of his legs slipped and he found himself crashing hard on his rear, also holding back tears from the long scrape he now owned. He couldn't muffle the whimpers of pain as he brought his hands to the wound, hissing in pain from a mere touch and seeing blood come back on his hands. It hurt.

He couldn't help the whimper that slowly turned into a wail, Dream was right, he wouldn't have been hurt if he had just stayed in his normal form like he was told-

His head popped up when he heard the sound of the bushes to his right shake and the upper torso of what he thought was another naga pushed through, looking concerned as the blue eyes met his own and softened,” Oh mate, are you alright?” He felt some comfort that it was a kind-looking stranger that found him instead of Dream, but as the man came further into the clearing, he could see similar legs to the ones he currently had, and the large black wings made it clear he wasn’t another naga. Tommy tried to back away in fear from this strange creature he’d never seen before, but his scraped knee hurt too much for him to run, let alone shift back to better defend himself. So he just watched as the man crowded down to his level and hold out his hand, palm upwards, and kept his voice low,” it’s alright…. I’m not going to hurt you, are your parents around, it looks like you took quite the fall,” the large wings on his back fluffed slightly as the man smiled,” did you try to fly without wings?”

This made Tommy laugh slightly at the joke which made the man smile as well, but that smile faded quickly as Tommy spoke,” I don’t have parents… and I just slipped.” He brought his arms around himself as he tried to think back that far, he didn’t remember much from after he hatched from his egg, just a lot of loud noises and smells he didn’t know at the time. The only thing Dream told him when he was old enough to ask was that Dream found him all alone and stored him for safety until he was big enough to defend himself, he did slightly remember being in a warm place for a long time.

The man took a slight step forward and Tommy flinched back again,” Why don’t I take you back to my house mate, get that knee of yours patched up, you could meet my two sons who are about your age while I find out how to help.” The man opened his arms in invitation but didn’t move forward, giving Tommy the full opportunity to make the choice himself. The man looked hopeful, but kept up a patient smile as he softly muttered to himself just loud enough for Tommy to hear,” Who would leave a kid out here in the woods, did he have to scavenge for those clothes?”

Tommy looked back down at himself, the clothes were pretty stained and ripped in different spots, and hung onto him loosely as the human who originally wore them were a lot bigger than Tommy. He was curious to meet kids his own age, it was only him and Dream for so long and he actually felt a bit comforted by the man’s presence, much more than he did his mentors. He slowly reached out his arms and held still as the man reached down and lifted him from the ground, letting Tommy wrap his arms around his neck and settle the boy against his hip. Tommy almost sighed at how warm the man was, holding back from nuzzling into the warmth as he did with his favorite sunning spot.

The man gave a soft hum as he started to walk the way he came from,” seems like you’ve been eating good at least, Right big man?” This made Tommy laugh again as the two traveled further away from the woods he was used to, but he found that he really didn’t care.

Strike Two shedding

Tommy had been living with the man called Phil and his two sons Wilbur and Technobade for a few years now, and while the first meeting was a little messy, but he was really happy with them. He and Wilbur had formed an extremely close bond despite the age gap between the two, and even the piglin hybrid wasn’t so bad once the initial hostility wore off, he even taught Tommy some mild potion-making. This was coming very handy since Tommy was getting close to the point where he would shed his skin before his next growth spurt, he normally didn’t have a problem with this as he could easily soak his body in a pond until the skin was loose enough to slide off, but he couldn’t do that here; or in human form. He couldn’t stop scratching at his skin as he felt the scales underneath shifting in irritation, he had thought a potion from Techno would help with the itching, but all it really did was cause his human skin to shed but did nothing for his hidden scales. It was to the point he was about to go made from the itchy feeling while sitting at the breakfast table with everyone, trying to eat the pancakes before him despite each movement felt like needles under his skin,” Phil can I go out in the woods after breakfast, I want to explore some more.”

Tommy understood that Phil was always slightly hesitant to let him explore on his own, after not finding any information about a missing child from the neighboring communities, the man was worried that Tommy might just disappear one day. Tommy couldn’t tell him a story he didn’t have but was also thankful that the man didn’t try to confine him to the house and still allowed him to roam the woods he was found in freely.

Would you consider taking one of your brothers with you, or do you want to be on your own again?”

Tommy could feel how much Phil wanted him to say yes, but he really needed to do this on his own, he didn’t want to scare his new family. He just put a smile on his face as he stuffed the last bite of his breakfast in his mouth, human food was pretty awesome,” and let those nerds find my secret hideout, no way, ill be back before dark.” His heart warmed about as Phil relaxed at his statement, ducking as Wilbur tried to ruffle his hair and Techno chastised him for talking with his mouth full, but rushed out the door after cleaning his plate in the sink. He ran as quickly as he could out the door towards the small lake he and Techno found while looking for potion ingredients, it was just big enough for his newly increased length and he could finally ease his pain of shedding. He only paused just enough to remove his clothing before jumping into the water, sighing in relief as his human legs merged tother and lengthened as the crimson scales emerged from his skin all along his formerly hidden tail, scaring the small school of fish that scattered as his tail slapped the surface of the water. “Fuck that feels good..” He looked down at his tail and grimaced slightly, the scales were a bit patchy in places, and his transformation had caused tears in different parts of his skin, it wasn’t going to come off in a satisfying one piece like he hoped it would. He could only sigh as he began gently running his hands under the frayed edges and started to slowly push back the pale surface, letting the water soothe the fresh scales underneath as the old was pushed away.

Tommy didn’t realize how much time had passed as he finished up the last bit of his shedding until he heard his name being called in the distance and looked towards the sky, seeing that it was getting close to dusk. He had eaten some of the fish around lunchtime and got completely absorbed in his task, and now it sounded like both Wilbur and Techno were looking for him, he needed to shift quickly. He slithered as quickly as he could out of the pond and took one last look at his tail, the different shades of red looking more vibrant and healthy, ready for his next growth spurt. He only just managed to get his human clothes back on when he saw his brother’s heads push through the bushes to his left and he realized that his shed was everywhere,” Hey Wilby, Tech, look at this stuff.” He didn’t like to lie, but he had to play it off as if he found it.

Techno’s face went very firm when he saw the shed and Wilbur’s first reaction was to curse lightly under his breath before rushing to Tommy,” Alright you little gremlin, you promised Dad you would be back before dark, haven't I told you not to make promises you can’t keep.” His hand was firm on Tommy’s wrist and was quick to pull him behind himself and Techno,” do you think it’s been around here recently, could it come back?” Tommy watched as Techno took the skin from his hands, giving it a quick once over before dropping it to the ground,” It’s still very fresh so it hasn’t been gone very long, we probably need to leave now.``

Internally Tommy was grateful that his brothers didn’t suspect him as they dragged him hurriedly back to the house, externally he put up a scared front as he didn’t understand why there was so much urgency to be pulled away from the lake.

Strike Three growth spurt

Naga biology, as Tommy slowly figured out, is very different from both regular snakes and humans. Dream was never really helpful when he asked questions about himself before, the older male just laughed and just told him to eat good and he would be fine, it didn’t make sense to him back then as he called his mentor a jerk for eating the rabbit he worked so hard to catch, but now he was thinking that he understood that now. When he lived in the wilderness it was pure luck if he got a decent meal once every day and it kept his growth very slow and it took him ages to get close to the same size as Dream, but now that he was getting three decent sized human meals a day thanks to his new family, he could see that he was getting taller much faster than he was before. It wasn’t long before he outgrew the clothes that Phil lent him, then he outgrew the ones that Techno lent to him ( much to the man’s annoyance) and he had now stalled at clothes that would fit Wilbur once he realized it was his food intake. He could only grin and laugh along as Phil joke that Tommy had to be a hybrid of something for him to grow so quickly, but he thankfully learned how to lower his initial portions down enough to still look normal and still filled him up, but finally slowed his growth down to be just a bit shorter than Will in height. He could only imagine how much longer his tail had gotten since his last transformation, he almost wished he could have taken one of Phil’s tape measures to look at his actual length but would have to just wonder.

Strike Four Instincts

As much as Tommy wanted to be Phil’s ‘normal’ son when compared to himself and his other sons, he couldn’t ignore the instincts that were ingrained into his every action. He couldn’t help but be drawn to Techno and Phil the most out of the family since they had the highest body temperatures in the family and as much as he played off hating the affection, he always melted into the warmth that they provided (he still flushed in embarrassment when Wilbur used the hair drier to make himself warm enough for Tommy to cuddle with him).

The worst instincts he had were the ones that came from the more predatory side, especially when the rest of his family was hybridized with prey species. Phil and Wilbur both had very bird-like tendencies that made Tommy's attention always snap to them and watch them intensely, which in turn caused the two to freak out on their own as their instincts flared. Techno on the other hand would stare back at Tommy with his hair standing in the end if Tommy put his gaze on him, it led to the other two in the family to poke fun at them when they started these contests of wills. It also led to Tommy always winning if they played any type of hiding and seek variety, he might have cheated a bit by hunting by scent, but he excelled at hiding as he was still flexible in his human form and could hide away in places the others really couldn’t.

There was one instinct of his that he hated, but could never ignore as it sent his anxiety skyrocketing if he didn't do it regularly, and that was marking his territory against other nagas. He couldn't stand the idea of another coming into his home and possibly attacking his family, they were part of his den and he would protect him with his life. He could scent in both his original and human form, his original form made it easier, but he learned how to just shift enough of his arm to rub/ grip branches during his walks around his perceived territory with his family. He enjoyed taking these walks with Willbur especially as the siren would work on future songs and would sing different lyrics for Tommy to judge, the hypnotic noise always soothing Tommy’s mind, until it didn’t.

He and Wilbur were walking on the far side of his territory, and close to the area that Phil first found him years ago. Tommy was walking across the same rocks he slipped in so many years ago, much to the amusement of his brother, he only got to laugh for a short bit before his head snapped up as a familiar scent drew closer to him and Wilbur, and felt his heart drop as he saw a familiar white mask slink its way from the bushes behind the siren…. In a clear hunting pose. This was the fastest he ever shifted as he rushed his brother and ignoring the shocked noise as he coiled around the elder and pulled him away from the bushes protectively.

Your out

Tommy couldn’t help the hum that rumbled from his chest as he shoved Wilbur’s head further inside his mouth, his taste was more pronounced than when he had been tempted to flick his tongue in the past, but back then it was only like he stuck his head into a coffee shop. It was as if he was tasting a freshly brewed cup, but a normal cup of coffee didn’t cry and have the occasional burst of salt, but he had to ignore it as he gave the first swallow, feeling his throat swell with the hybrids head and his jaw stretching to accommodate the shaking lungs. He wanted to hiss loudly when he felt a cold hand start to stroke his head,” I’m glad to see you’re healthy Tommy, you don’t know how worried I was when you disappeared years ago, I searched for you for weeks.” He just had to ignore Dream as he continued to swallow, wincing slightly as his muscles were very out of practice of eating large prey, too used to eating small portions, but it was a good type of pain as Wilbur tried to escape. He shifted his coils and lifted the body higher into the air so he could get the assistance of gravity, but tried to subtly comfort his brother as he used his hand hidden from Dream’s sight to grab the waving hand, giving it a soothing squeeze and rubbing the knuckles as he paused in his swallowing. The hybrid paused slightly when he felt the comforting touch, but continued to writhe as Tommy brought the hands and waste into his mouth.

His own hands went to rest over his human torso as the flesh began to swell as his current prey started to fill it, but flinched when he felt a second pair joined his,” You’re being such a good boy Tommy, I hoped to be here when you had your first human, it feels exhilarating doesn’t it?” Tommy could see Dreams face out of the corner of his eye, the elder was giving off such a creepy expression that it chilled him to his core, even when a very warm body was being shoved into it. “ how does it feel Tommy, to consume something with equal intelligence to you, to feel it last moments as it begs for release.”

Tommy nearly choked on the last of Wilbur’s legs once Dream finished talking, swallowing hard to get the last of the twitching feet into his throat as his mouth finally closed, and could only speak with a slight waver once all of his brother was confined in his upper stomach,” W-what the fuck Dream.” He shuddered as Wilbur squirmed inside, easily hitting every nerve in the stretched muscle, making the organ release pleased rumbles and squeezing the wriggling form into a more manageable lump. It felt much better than anything else he’d ever eaten but he wasn’t going to admit that to anyone but himself,” Why are you here Dream, I don’t need you anymore and you also just ruined my easy meal ticket, it’s not going to be easy to explain our disappearances.”

Tommy didn’t like the laugh Dream let out as the elder went to touch him again, ruffling his hair like he once used to, but it didn’t hold the same warmth that came when his real family did it,” I thought you might have died the day I found a bit of your blood here and large black feathers, I thought you got taken by a giant bird, but what do I find after a few years doing old rounds? The fresh scent of the youngling I took in ages ago leaving a territory marking in human form and stealing the meal I would have wanted.” The cold hands came back to press at his stomach, and despite his efforts to back away, the green tail coiled around his own to prevent his escape,” Are you not going to put that lower, can’t do much with him in there.”

Tommy let out a loud hiss and shoved Dream away,” What I do doesn’t matter to you anymore, you need to get out of my territory so I can fix the mess you caused.” It took a lot of willpower to not focus on Wilbur throughout this interaction, the man had finally worn himself out and was breathing heavily inside, so much so that Tommy could fully feel it. He did take a moment to gently press at his head in a way that was comforting to Wilbur but would look like he was goading for more movement from Dream’s perspective.

He watched as Dream just moved to cross his arms, giving Tommy a hard stare before sighing loudly,” Fine, it seems like my nestling has grown up, I’ll leave your territory for now,” The elder moved back towards the trees giving a wave of its hand, “I’ll probably be back sometime in the next year when I do my rounds,” but Dream turned quickly with his arms still crossed,” Before I leave I want to see you put the human down.” The older naga looked at Tommy expectantly, making his stance very clear, and would not leave until he saw what he wanted.

This made Tommy pause, he didn’t want to put Wilbur further down since it would make things much harder to get him out when Dream finally left, but he still would be ok as long as he got him out within a few hours. So despite the renewed yelling and struggles, he placed both his hands over the writhing lump and press downwards while shifting his body side to side, working his brother down until his torso was completely flat and there was a new wriggling lump in his tail. Tommy bit harshly at his lower lip as he took in the feeling, but shook his head as he looked to glare at Dream,” Happy now, do me a favor and get the fuck out of my territory!” He watched as Dream laughed and slithered away into the bushes, he counted up to fifty seconds before quickly turning around and placing his hands on the still struggling lump,” Fuck, Wilbur… Wilbur calm down, it's going to be ok, I’m going to let you out alright.”

It hurt to hear the clear yell of lier from his stomach, but pushed the hurt aside as he gently rubbed at the lump,” I’m going to head to the pond to let you out ok, I’m so sorry you had to find out about me this way….I didn’t want you guys to look at me like I was a monster…” Tommy pulled his hands away from the quieted lump and began moving to the pond at a fast pace, he was already starting to feel sluggish from his ‘meal’ and didn’t want to risk falling asleep with Wilbur inside. His breath hitched as he felt soft stroking against the walls, causing him to purr against his better judgment, but it did give him hope that Wilbur forgives him.

It took a good amount of time for Tommy to convince his body to let Wilbur out, but he was happy to get a burst of the coffee flavor again as his brother was swiftly ejected from his mouth and into the pond. This caused the older male to curse loudly at the temperature difference, but before he could even get a word out, Tommy was already close to crying as he apologized,” Wilbur I’m so fucking sorry, I didn’t want you to find out about me like this, I never wanted to do this to you or anyone,” Tommy brought his hands up to his face and began to poorly attempt to wipe away the tears running down his face,” I don’t want to be a monster like Dream, I wanted to be normal like you, dad, and Techno-” He was quickly cut off by a splash of water hitting him in the face and he sniffed weakly as he looked Wilbur fully in the face.

His brother almost looked close to tears himself as he slowly made his way out of the pond,” Alright you gremlin...I’m not mad at you… You're still my ‘little’ brother, even if you have a tail.” Wilbur just sighed as he pushed his wet hair out of his face and moved to stand before Tommy,” You probably...no.. you did save my life from being eaten by that Dream guy, and even if your method was extremely gross, I’m not going to look at you like your a monster.” Wilbur then hugged Tommy around his middle, making the younger male start to cry again as he curled around his brother in happiness, but he did pause when Wilbur pulled away a bit to look up at him in concern-

“How are we going to tell Dad and Techno about this?”

#gt soft vore #soft vore #safe vore #tw vore #naga t0mmy #prey wilbur #mcyt g/t vore #mcyt g/t community #I really was a jerk to Tommy in this #jkknight anwsers #jkknight requests

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twistedtummies2 · 2 years ago

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The Wearing of the Green - Chapter 4

This is the fourth and final part of my belated St. Patrick’s Day Event Story Special. I’m glad I was able to get it all out by the end of the month. XD Again, this four-parter has been heavily inspired by “Darby O’Gill and the Little People.” (My major OC in this story, Bannor O’Brien, is based on King Brian from the film.) However, it also contains a lot of refrences and homages to other leprechaun-related things sort of sprinkled throughout. I’m curious about how many of them you guys recognize or have recognized. XD Up until now, I’ve had a lot of kinky teasing and implications, so to speak, but this final chapter is where the actual kinks come into play. Specifically, this chapter contains soft, non-fatal vore, macro/micro elements, belching, and very mild stuffing-type content. If none of that sounds up your alley, then it is probably best you avoid reading this. Also, I actually used a couple of violin covers of popular songs I like as the reference for the music that Bannor (my leprechaun OC) and Malleus use for their fiddle contest. Just for the heck of it, you can find the music I imagine Bannor playing here, and the tune for Malleus’ part here. Feel free to listen to them if you want. ;) Now, let’s finish this sucker off! Hope you all have enjoyed!

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“A fiddle-playing contest?” Prince Bannor O’Brien - the leader of the leprechauns on Sage’s Island - nodded enthusiastically, even as Malleus Draconia inspected the exquisite violin that had been dropped into his hands. Yourself and Grim sat upon the chest of diamonds inside the throne room of the fairy mound, eyes darting between the two soon-to-be combatants. “Aye!” confirmed Prince Bannor. “There be few things we Little People cherish more than the sound o’ merry fiddles, playin’ a wild tune! An’ I’ve played the fiddle plenty in me time!” “What a coincidence,” chuckled Malleus, smirking slightly. “I’m quite the fair hand with a violin, myself.” “Well, then perhaps I’ve found a worthy opponent!” laughed Bannor. “This musical battle will be legendary!” “Why are so many people in this world so over-dramatic?” you muttered to yourself. “Hm?” Malleus spoke up, his pointed ears pricking upward under the brim of the fine silk top hat he wore for the occasion of his visitation. “Did you say something, Child of Man?” “No, nothing,” you lied. The fairy princes shrugged, then looked back at each other. “Who shall be the judge?” asked Malleus. “You’ve sent all your servants away for privacy’s sake during this duel.” “I shall judge!” declared Bannor, with a proud grin. “Sure, an’ I can play ye a tune worth goin’ a mile aground to hear! No better to judge such a contest than meself!” “That hardly seems fair,” Malleus responded, although he did not sound overly concerned. “After all, wouldn’t you be naturally inclined to vote for yourself?” Bannor opened his mouth to retort to that…then blinked…before scratching at the back of his head with the point of his bowstick. “Ye do have a point,” he murmured…then grinned anew. “Why don’t we leave it up to the human?” “Me?” you blinked. “I think that sounds a bit fairer,” Malleus nodded. “Indeed!” Bannor agreed. “After all, they be the one who this contest is all about.” “What am I, chopped liver?” snapped Grim, huffishly. “You’re not worried I’ll cheat?” you brought up. Malleus raised an eyebrow in your direction. “Would you?” was his simple response. You actually took a moment to ponder that simple question. True, you wanted to go home, not stay here in the leprechauns’ underground palace forever…but you also knew from experience that you were generally trustworthy - if you did say so yourself - with judging things like this, and remaining as objective as possible. And after all, both of the competitors were putting their necks in the noose: if Malleus lost, he would be in the same situation as yourself. And if Bannor lost, he’d have to do anything Malleus said, as well as let you go. Knowing Malleus the way you did, you had a feeling that wouldn’t end prettily. “Well?” Bannor chirped, cocking his head, his large bright eyes giving him a sort of birdlike demeanor. You hesitated only a moment longer before nodding. “I’ll do my best to be fair,” you promised. “Good! That’s settled!” said Bannor with a firm nod of his own, then looked back at Malleus with a superior sort of smirk. “Now, which of us shall be the first to go?” “By all means, you go first,” Malleus purred in a smooth and somewhat oily sort of voice. “Might I be seated somewhere?” Bannor responded by hopping down from his oversized throne, then bowed in an exaggerated manner, holding his fiddle close to his chest as he swept out his cape and pointed to the throne with the bowstick. “Feel free to rest yerself upon me own seat, sir,” he said, and smiled smugly. “After all, ye may never get a chance to use a throne again.” “Not very bashful, are you?” Malleus observed, blandly. “When it comes to the fiddle, I have no reason to be. Sit, man!” Malleus bowed his head respectfully, then strode across the throne room, his booted feet clicking on the stone floor. With a swirl of the green frock coat he’d picked out for the occasion, he sat down, letting the Stradivarius he’d been offered rest gently in his lap. You glanced up at him, and he gave you a reassuring smile. You smiled back, but you sensed you were much more nervous. “Nya…you’re gonna make sure to vote for Malleus, right?” Grim whispered. “No matter what?” “I have to be fair,” you replied, half-sighing and shaking your head. “Let’s just hope he knows what he’s doing, agreeing to all this…” “It’s Tsunotaro,” reasoned Grim. “Doesn’t he always know what he’s doing?” “Debatable,” you chuckled, then added more seriously, “There’s a first time for everything. Now sit still and let’s listen.” Grim nodded, and watched alongside you as Bannor skipped to the center of the throne room and rosened up his bow. He plucked at the strings of his tiny, leprechaun-sized fiddle a few times, as if to test them; the test must have been successful, for he nodded in approval before tucking the fiddle under his chin and smirking at Malleus as he placed the bowstrings just behind the bridge. “Away we go!” he sang out merrily, and tapped his foot four times as he counted down: “Aon…dhà…trì…ceithir!”

And so began Bannor’s tune. The first few bars carried a wistful yet pleasant sound; a tune that spoke of good and magical memories, fading into the mind of the one who thought of them. Then, abruptly, the tune kicked into a higher gear: Bannor sawed away at the fiddle strings, bobbing and swaying to his own music as he picked up the pace. The tune retained its nostalgic sentiment, but the memory was growing clearer…and the memory was not simply a nice one, but a FUN one. There was a slightly boastful energy to the piece; as if the player knew he was great, and was happy to brag about that accomplishment…yet it did not spoil the sense of real emotion under the singing strings. It was the sound of a party that was never truly forgotten; the sound of first kisses, of dancing with a beautiful stranger for the first time. A song that spoke of the vibrancy of youth and times past, and the sense of joy that always filled one’s heart when remembering those long-forgotten experiences. The song of a single perfect night, with a perfect lover, and all one’s friends around them. The music was cheery, bright, and filled with quick flourishes; a melody that matched the merry nature of its player as Bannor. The leprechaun danced to his own music, prancing to and fro as he twirled his bowstick between bars, just to show off. His whole demeanor was one of frivolous joy, matching the partying tone of the tune he played. His cape swirled about him as he spun about at one point, before scratching out another chorus; the tune he played was peppy, almost poppy, and easy to dance to and recall. You suddenly realized you were moving to the beat in your seat as you listened; Bannor must have noticed, for he looked you dead in the eye as he pulled the bow across the strings with a long, sensuous sort of sound, and winked. The two-foot tall fiddler hopped up onto the crock of gold itself, as the music picked up again, and his heels tapped out a quick jig. Even this did not stop him from his playing as the music kept to its pattern, the song it played as easy to grasp as it was to understand, yet filled with unexpected complexities. The music was somehow both superficial and deep at the same time; a difficult combination to pull off, yet Bannor somehow managed. Hopping off of the cauldron full of coins, Bannor lighted once more upon his feet as he steadied his playing, as if his violin needed to catch a break as much as he did…then, with shocking swiftness, the music “flipped” back into its jovial, jaunty state, and remained as chipper as it started right up until - with a long, slow, meaningful slice of the bow - it swooped into its closure. Twirling both his fiddle and his fiddlestick, Bannor bowed most low, till his nose nearly touched the floor. Almost without thinking, both yourself and Grim applauded. “Nya! That was really good!” Grim cried out. “It’s been a long time since I’ve heard anyone play like that!” you laughed. Malleus clapped more politely, a small smile upon his dark lips. “Well played, Prince Bannor,” he complimented. “Very well played, indeed. I must commend your performance, I do confess.” “Thank ye!” twittered Bannor. His green eyes were aflame with impending triumph as he stood and smirked at Malleus Draconia. “An’ now,” he announced. “Ye can have yer own turn, I think.” The moment those words were uttered, the smiles on your face and Grim’s own fuzzy mug vanished. A worried look passed between you both as you seemingly only just then remembered what was on the line. It was a testament to Bannor’s playing that you had gotten so wrapped up in the performance, you completely forgot the stakes. It was going to be difficult for anyone to beat that, you felt… …But then, Malleus Draconia had never been one to settle for second best. Indeed, as Malleus rose from the throne - holding the fiddlestick and fiddle in one hand, and adjusting the hat upon his horned head with the other - he seemed thoroughly unfazed. Not overly confident, but not evidently very nervous either; a perfect poker face. Bannor swaggered around the dragon, the pair flashing a challenging glare at each other as the leprechaun prince hopped back into his throne, smirking with one hand drumming its fingers on the seat cushion, the other planting a fist into his chin. Malleus, like Bannor before him, calmly rosened up his bow and checked the strings. Evidently, he was displeased with one of them, for he frowned and adjusted the tightness of the A string. Nodding with satisfaction after plucking it again, he cleared his throat and gave a mild sort of smile. “I must admit, it’s been a little while longer than I’d like since I held an instrument,” he said. “However, we’ll see if my personal training still holds strong. Now, sit down in that chair, my friend…” He tucked the violin under his chin, and draped the bow across the strings. Now, at first, you were worried: much like with Bannor’s tune of choice, the piece Malleus began to play started off slow. In fact, it was even slower than Bannor’s song: the first few bars were low and tremulous, filled with a sense of strange ambiguity and mystery, very different from the nostalgic pleasantness of Bannor’s tune, and leaving you uncertain in more ways than one. The way the music abruptly changed - the tempo sharply jolting into a racing, pounding melody, like that of a runaway heartbeat - also caught you off guard, and left you unsure. However, any concerns you had soon dissipated, as the music went on, and the marvelous melody poured its way into your ears. It started off steady and simple; a contemplative, deeply emotional ballad, which carried emotions similar to Bannor’s song, but also somehow distinctly different. Where Bannor’s song had been gay and merry, filled with the simple happiness of youth, this tune was dark and lush, filled with all the melodrama of a Gothic romance. It spoke of love that would never die, and of sins that could never be forgiven nor forgotten. It was tender, yet vengeful; bitter, yet sweet. Its tone carried something that was ageless, something that was unable to stand within a specific period; as if this was a song that had been passed down through generations, whistling through the wind from some far off shore. As the music went on, it only grew stronger. Malleus began to play with the melody more, throwing in slick little flourishes that slid into the main beat with what had to be well-practiced ease. The sweeping sounds were mingled with striking, almost stinging masterstrokes, a sense of adventure and grand scope in every bar. This was not a song of humble parties and temporary pleasure, but the anthem of immortality itself: long strains of sanity, broken up by wild touches of hammering, maddening enthusiasm. A desperate and yet brooding tune. As the song went on, Malleus showed off more and more of his range, and the power the fiddle held in its silver-strung framework of sculpted wood. His fiddling arm pumped and the fingers upon the strings whirled themselves into a blur as he scraped away at the strings with intense, almost ferocious speed, only to then swing around into a calming, lullaby-like mood. The notes, themselves, ran the full gamut: while Bannor’s song had been exquisitely played, it had all remained the same basic key and range. Malleus Draconia seemed to put the fiddle to the test of its own merit, the bowstrings summoning screaming, wailing shrieks of haunting exultation, before dropping down to the lowest notes possible, creaking like the hallowed walls of an aged crypt. Then he would let them fall even lower, till they became the mere whispers of a phantom, before flying up to their highest capacity. In all, where Bannor’s had been peppy and poppy, Malleus Draconia’s song was a rocky yet timeless tune of both melancholy and passion combined. The intensity of the music seemed to flood through Malleus himself, for - like Bannor had - he began to dance to his own tune…yet even then, his eyes remained closed, his expression tranquil and almost dreamlike, as if he were lost in another world, where only the music could reach him. Finally, after summoning several long scores of high, fast notes from the fiddle’s beautifully crafted construction, Malleus Draconia pulled from its plates, posts, and ribs a few final long, dulcet, eternal chords, and - dragging the bow across the strings with something like a hiss - his part of the competition came to a close. Malleus let out a sigh through his nostrils as the music echoed its last notes through the chamber…then he opened his glowing green eyes as a serpentine smile fell across his face. “Was that sufficient?” he asked, softly. So softly, in fact, it almost hurt to hear. Your jaw was on the ground. Grim’s eyes had widened to the size of dinner plates. Even Prince Bannor O’Brien was utterly gobsmacked. His mouth opened and closed a few times, but no sound came out. Malleus chuckled softly, a victorious glint in his emerald eyes. “Speechless, are we?” he crooned. “Well, then am I to trust that my concerto was the superior piece?” “Oh, yeah,” you said, without hesitation or any show of even trying to give Bannor credit. “That was…WOW. Just…just WOW.” “Thank you, Child of Man,” Malleus replied, obeisantly. All Grim could do was clap slowly, completely flabbergasted. Bannor glanced between yourself and the cat-like imp, then back at Malleus, who was staring at him expectantly. The little prince looked back at him, clearly shaken to the core. “I’ve played fer many centuries, but by the stars above…!” He shook his head and sighed, then gave a half-hearted smile as he repositioned himself, his own fiddle and stick disappearing in a wisp of golden mist as he knelt down upon the throne’s seat, bowing his head and swirling his cape dramatically before him in a show of old-fashioned submission and respect. “I yield,” he said. “Good,” was all Malleus said, then looked over at you and Grim. He smiled gently. “The power of the leprechaun’s Come Hither should now be removed. Ashengrotto and Bucchi are waiting just outside.” “Azul?” Grim asked, ears pricking up. “Ruggie?” you wondered aloud. “Yes,” nodded Malleus, and pointed with his own bow towards the stone door. “Meet with them, then collect Spade and Trappola. After that, please head back to campus.” Malleus looked back at Prince Bannor. Something truly devilish glittered in his eye. “We fellow fairy princes,” he said, sibilantly, “Have an arrangement to discuss.” Bannor gulped nervously. You looked between Malleus and Bannor, sensing the tension…but you nodded in easy agreement. “Alright,” you said, then nudged Grim as you sat up from the treasure chest. “Come on, let’s get moving.” “Nya! You don’t hafta tell me twice!” laughed Grim, hopping up from his own seat before smiling and waving to Bannor. “Thanks for all the tasty tuna, Bannor! It really was a lot of fun…but we’ve gotta go back to Night Raven! The Great Grim’s gotta keep training to be the most awesome mage ever!” Bannor gave a weak smile back and nodded, saying nothing. You smiled apologetically to him as he looked at you, then beckoned for Grim to follow as you both headed towards the exit. Bannor lifted a hand, and the stone slab parted just enough to allow both yourself and your feline-esque friend room to leave. You cast one last look back over your shoulder, just in time to watch Bannor stand and sweep one hand limply through the air…shutting the door once again. Now, the leprechaun prince was alone in his throne room with the dark prince of the fae. “I never thought I’d hear fiddlin’ like that from anyone other than…well…meself, I suppose,” said Bannor, with a mild chuckle. He gave a sad sort of smile to Malleus. “I suppose I should point out I never meant to hurt either o’ them. And as fer our own bargain…I probably woulda just asked ya fer a favor or two if ye’d lost.” “You played well, Prince Bannor,” Malleus replied, and placed the Stradivarius inside the box from which it had come, before striding back towards the throne. “I concede you did far better than even I anticipated. But there were few contests of choice you could have picked that I would have lost.” The words were not spoken out of arrogance, but simply as a matter of fact. Bannor looked up, still standing upon his throne, as Malleus glided over, looming over him. Two pairs of green eyes peered into each other; two were anxious and soulful, the other two cold and hard as lime glass. “Unlike you, I have every intention of reaping the rewards of our agreement to the fullest,” Malleus said, darkly. Bannor sighed and crossed his arms. “Faith, yer a hard man, ye know that?” he grumbled, and raised an eyebrow with a pouting sort of look on his freckled little face. “Alright. Our agreement stated I’d give ye the two humans an’ a wish if ye won. So name yer wish!” Malleus smiled. It was a slow, dead sort smile; the smile of a reptile before it strikes for the kill. Bannor immediately felt unsettled. “A wish?” Malleus cooed, coyly. “Why on Earth would I demand a wish from you, little man?” Bannor blinked in confusion. “Yer sayin’...ye don’t want the wish?” Malleus nodded in confirmation. His green eyes were owlish and unblinking, only further unnerving the leprechaun prince, who fidgeted where he stood upon his gilded chair. “But…didn’t ye say-?” “I said that you would be forced to do something for me. One simple thing. That doesn’t mean I wanted to make a wish; I told you if you wanted to think of it like that, you could, but it’s not the same thing.” “Ah. Well, um…then, pray tell, wh-what is it ye want me to do?” Malleus Draconia’s fangs gleamed like an assortment of pearl daggers, as his lips curled into a rare and truly frightening grin. He answered with a single word. “Die.” Bannor cried out as, without any further warning, one of Malleus Draconia’s fingerless-gloved hands swooped down and snatched up the little prince by the waist. The doll-sized little man tried to pry Malleus’ hands free with his own tiny mitts, as his small feet kicked frantically and uselessly at the empty air. He was hoisted up as easily as if he were made of stuffing. “ACK! WH-WHAT IN CHERNABOG’S NAME ARE YE DOIN’?!” yelled Bannor, then let out a strained sound as Malleus squeezed tighter, the superhuman strength of the half-drake threatening to bend his bones. “I am taking what I am owed,” replied Malleus calmly. Then, before Bannor could retort, he leaned in, and let his forked tongue slither free from his jaws, slathering it across the face of the eighteen-inch-tall royal. A rumble of pleasure echoed out from the dragon fairy’s diaphragm. “Mmmmm…Bucchi was not lying about your flavor,” he breathed out, shakily, grinning evilly into Bannor’s stupefied face as the leprechaun spluttered in shock. “No…no, NO! Y-Ye can’t be SERIOUS!” Bannor screeched. “I am deathly serious, Prince of the Shoemakers,” Malleus glared menacingly, his expression stormy and filled with simmering rage. “You kidnapped one of the few mortals I actually care about. Someone I would stop at nothing to protect. Worse yet, you took them when they were under MY guardianship: this is an offense to my title and lineage.” “Kidnapped?! Wait…y-YOUR guardianship?!” Bannor exclaimed, and shook his head, wide-eyed and beyond terrified. “L-Listen…w-wait now, ye don’t understand! W-We can talk this over…!” “I am in no mood for talking,” growled Malleus, and squeezed again, making Bannor squeal. “Y-Ye can’t…can’t just EAT me!” Bannor managed to protest through gritted teeth. “Yer in MY kingdom, ye fire-breathin’ fool! What…wh-what do ye think will happen if ye-?!” “We made an arrangement, as peers of our races,” Malleus responded with a supercilious smile. “In this instance, I am beyond reproach, by the very rules we had our contest under. I would have expected a leprechaun, of all creatures, to have known how a loophole functions.” “Ye…ye tricksy, deceitful, connivin’, double-dealin’, high-handed…!” “Oh, by all means, continue to insult me,” chortled Malleus, then leaned close and whispered into Bannor’s ear. “It will make your digestion far more entertaining to hear those cries change inside my stomach.” GRRRRLLLLG… Bannor shuddered as he heard Malleus Draconia’s belly rumble. Malleus licked his lips as he rubbed his belly with one hand, pawing at his middle through the fabric of his costume. “Mmmmm…isn’t it fitting, in a perverse sort of way?” he cooed. “This whole mess began because a student of Night Raven College was going to eat you up, little prince. And now, I do believe it’s going to end with that very notion becoming a reality. Really, though, you ought to thank me: if you think it’s bad inside of my belly, I doubt you even want to try and IMAGINE the hyena’s.” “My people…!” “Ah, yes. Them. Fear not, I will not cause any further problems for them. Really, perhaps you shouldn’t have dismissed them all…perhaps then I could have had a bigger meal, if any of them tried to stop me.” “I’ll make ye choke, ye cheatin’…!” “I highly doubt that. Thank you for the amusement, Prince Bannor. Now, if you’ll excuse me, seeing as I’m here on a feast day…” Malleus opened his jaws wide. Beyond the curl of his forked tongue and the slippery muscles of his cheeks, Bannor could see the glowing green of his innermost chambers, the gullet pulsing and flexing as it prepared to enjoy its next meal. The tongue ran across the tips of Draconia’s ivory fangs before he spoke again… “...I think I’ll help myself to the hors d'oeuvres.” And before Bannor O’Brien could so much as threaten to leave a changeling in every bed - NOMPH! - Malleus Draconia shoved the Prince of the Leprechauns into his jaws. His mouth clamped down around his prey’s chest as he crammed the little person into his maw. Bannor continued to cry out, cursing in violent Gaelic as Malleus hurriedly began to gobble him up, shoveling more and more of the little caped figure into his gullet as rapidly as he could. He took no time savoring even a single bite; typically, the dragon would not wolf down his food so rapaciously… GULP…GUUULLLP…GUUUUULLLLLP…! …But sometimes, expediency took prominence over tidy table manners. The dragon’s throat bulged grotesquely, the pale flesh straining against the ascot he wore as he guzzled down his victim. Bannor’s form could be seen writhing in the neck-tube, as he squirmed for dear life all the way down the esophagus. Each time Malleus swallowed, the muscles would tighten with almost hydraulic power, forcing a wheezing cry from the leprechaun, whose heart beat against the gullet walls with a staccato rhythm faster than any jig he danced. He could feel more and more of himself sleeping into the ghastly, glowing digestive tract of the half-dragon prince. His waist, his hips, his thighs…inch by inch, the red-haired little elf was forced downwards with inexorable power. The more he wriggled, the further he seemed to descend. As he slid deeper and deeper into Malleus Draconia’s internal furnace, the leprechaun could feel the foul atmosphere grow increasingly worse; Malleus’ breath had actually been fairly decent, but now that he was nearing the stomach, the odor became increasingly acrid and sour. This was combined with the slime and mucus smearing his fine suit, and the oppressive, steaming heat that made his face turn almost as red as his hair, as sweat speckled his little brow. Soon, only the leprechaun’s buckle-shoed feet remained beyond the larger prince’s lips. Malleus pushed the twitching toes past his lips with a SCHLUPP sound. He grimaced at the dull taste of bland, black leather…then threw his head back, tugging at his ascot to loosen it slightly as he swallowed the last of his meal… GUUULLL-LLLUUUP! …And sent Prince Bannor O’Brien into his belly, whole and alive. The lump in the tall, pale, horned fae’s throat vanished behind his sternum…then Malleus sneered slightly, as his stomach sloshed, and his midsection became noticeably bloated. After all, even for Draconia, swallowing something the size of a whole catfish was no easy feat when in humanoid form. His stomach strained against the buttons of his shirt, vest, and trousers. Carefully, Malleus eased himself to sit upon the throne, his dark-clawed fingers quickly darting across his abdomen as they began to fiddle with and undo the buttons… GLORSH! “Ahhhhh,” Malleus sighed with relief, as his pale belly was allowed to spill outward, resting in his lap. The sense of released pressure was so great, the dragon boy felt all thought cease in his head, relaxing into the welcoming sensations of a full, swollen belly. He belched thickly and chuckled softly, placing a hand to his mouth in mock embarrassment as the other petted his stomach lovingly. “UUUURRRRRLLLLLPK! Oof…oh, DO excuse me…I believe something I ate isn’t agreeing with me,” he chuckled to no one in particular, smirking as he saw lumps and bumps form on the surface of his muscular belly. Muffled curses and cries in a foreign tongue came from the gut of the dragon as Bannor was forced to curl up inside the green-tinted gastric chamber. The walls - illuminated as if by the dragon’s inner fire - were a faintly-glowing green, just as his gullet had been. There was light, but it was scant and eerie in nature, allowing Bannor only the barest illumination of his gurgling surroundings. He kicked his feet through the mucky murk that was made up of a blend of stomach fluids and residue from whatever Malleus had eaten last. (Was that a whiff of ketchup Bannor caught in his smarting nostrils?) He banged his fists into the pulsing, veiny stomach walls, jabbing at them and smacking them as they rippled around him, pressing down and then pulling back in rhythmic motions as they worked to churn him up…just like anything else the dragon had ever eaten… “Let…LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT, YE WRETCHED BUFFOON!” Bannor boomed at the top of his lungs. “Y-YE WON’T GET AWAY WITH THIS! I SWEAR IT!” Malleus, outside, grunted and stifled another belch in his cheeks. He puffed it out of the corner of his mouth and fanned the stinking air before his face with one hand. The other traced this fingertips across his bare belly in random shapes as he smiled with a sense of sly satisfaction. “HHHRRRLLLMMMPH…phoosh. Hm-hm-hmm…oh, come now, Prince Bannor. Why so…ooooh, aggressive, eh?” Malleus shivered, kneading into his stomach with his hand as it let out an almost possessive burbling noise. He could feel his guts clenching around his prey, then loosening again as they tested the meat packed within. “A wondrous future lies before you! Or rather…inside of me. After all, I should think going from Prince of the Shoemakers to some more weight on my hips would be considered a promotion. Or do you not agree?” The way Bannor kicked indicated that no, he did NOT agree AT ALL. Malleus grunted and chuckled from the motions, belching once more and smirking as he drew circles around his own navel with one claw. His stomach was swollen, but not gruesomely or grotesquely so. It felt taut and tight; whenever he tapped it, ripples went through it, and it shifted slightly. “UUUURRRRP…heh heh heh…still unhappy? What a shame. Perhaps next time you will think twice about taking from a dragon’s hoard. I would have imagined a leprechaun to know better than to take another fairy’s treasure from them.” “I…I didn’t mean to!” Bannor screamed out. “Look, j-just let me out! I…I’m tellin’ ye, we can discuss this! Ye don’t-!” Malleus growled and flexed his abs, his stomach muscles tightening around Bannor threateningly, silencing the leprechaun, who squealed in discomfort as he was crunched in from all sides. After a moment, the stomach loosened its hold, but it was still rather cramped in the swampy prison of draconic gluttony. “Tell your lies to my stomach, little man,” snarled Malleus. “I’m sure my bowels will be quite interested in hearing them.” Bannor whimpered; he still continued to fight, but his anger was starting to give way to panic. He could feel the juices tingling against his skin as they soaked into his regal costume. He pushed upwards, frantically trying to find some way to make the enraged, ravenous fae sick. “I’ll…I’ll give ye a gut-ache like ye wouldn’t believe!” he shouted. “Yer g-gonna regret this! I promise you that!” Outside, Malleus Draconia smiled lazily, reclining in the throne of the leprechaun king as he poked at the bulges his squirming meal made on the surface of his stomach. “Will I?” he drawled, airily. “What a shame…do let me know when I start to. That is, if there’s anything left of you that’s solid by that point.” With a dark chuckle, the head of Diasomnia massaged his wriggling, whining new meal. It had been a while since he’d enjoyed something that could squirm this way… …He wanted to savor this sensation. Just a little longer. “Keep kicking, my dear little friend,” he cooed, poking his stomach teasingly. “I’ll be belching your lifeline of oxygen away soon enough. If it’s any consolation, in the meantime…” Malleus licked his chops as he heard Bannor let out a keening noise within him. “...You truly were magically delicious.” The dragon’s menacing laughter echoed through the hall, mingling with the muffled calls for help from within his belly. However, as his laughter came to a halt, Malleus’ pointed ears pricked up, as he heard a new sound. It was the sound of tiny feet. A lot of tiny feet. A slippery smirk came over his face. “How predictable,” he whispered to himself, drumming his fingers over his stomach.

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“PREFECT!” You grunted as, without warning, Ace and Deuce nearly tackled you to the ground. You chuckled and hugged them both back as Grim trotted up and nuzzled their legs with a pleased purr. Ruggie and Azul were following close behind you, each dusting themselves off and looking mildly miffed. After leaving the hall of the leprechaun prince, Patrick had led the four of you through the corridor, back to the bottom of the great well that led into the fairy mound’s palatial depths. Once you had reached the spot - the entryway looming above you like a full moon - he suddenly disappeared, seemingly into thin air. This oddity was quickly followed by another, as a swirl of what seemed to be mighty wind whipped around the three of you, and carried you back up through the well’s long tunnel to the surface once again. “Good to see you both,” you said to your friends from Heartslabyul. “Nya! How come you didn’t give me that reaction?” pouted Grim, pausing in his affectionate nuzzles. “Oh? Does the Great Grim WANT to be cuddled like a stuffed animal?” smirked Ace, teasingly. Grim immediately took a couple steps back and hissed. “That’s a no,” snickered Ace. “It seems like you two managed pretty well,” Azul observed, adjusting his spectacles; his usual tic. “Not a scratch on either of you.” “Not only that, but where have all the Little People gone?” frowned Ruggie, ears twitching as he scooped up his long-discarded hat. He brushed it off and looked around, a little perplexed. “Weren’t there a bunch of those morsels fighting you both?” “More like trying to fight,” Ace snorted cockily. “There were, but I guess they must have chickened out or something,” Deuce responded. “Chickened out?” you repeated, confused. “What do you mean?” “Well, we were bouncing around, flinging magic and deflecting attacks, and all of a sudden that little guy who was leading them-” Azul recalled the name: “O’Reilly?” “Yeah,” nodded Deuce, and went on: “Out of nowhere, he called something out I couldn’t understand…and then - POOF! - they all just disappeared outta nowhere. Real shame, too, the fight was getting pretty good…” Ace, Azul, and Grim each rolled their eyes at Deuce’s words. Ruggie let out his trademark snicker. You, however, felt a bit worried. Your expression must have shown it, because Deuce gave you a look of concern. “What’s the matter, Prefect?” he wondered. “How long ago was this?” you asked. “Just a few minutes ago, basically right before you arrived,” Deuce answered. Ace nodded to confirm and agree with this statement. “Huh. Sounds like it might have been at the same time that Patrick guy disappeared on us,” Ruggie Bucchi observed. That was too much of a coincidence to BE a coincidence. You shared a glance with Azul; his expression matched your own. “Malleus said he had business to deal with,” you said, ominously. “Fairies can have some interesting forms of intuition,” Azul replied. “Perhaps they sensed something was amiss in the throne room, and hurried to see what was going on.” “Psh. A bunch of tiny people versus Malleus Draconia?” scoffed Ruggie. “Come on, I think that’s ASKING to be dragon food.” “That’s exactly what worries me,” you said, and spun on your heel, hurrying back towards the well. “MINION!” shouted Grim. “Where are you going?!” You paused at the well to give a weak sort of smile over your shoulder. “To save the leprechaun prince. Again.” And before any of your friends could stop you, you hurled yourself over the edge and found yourself tumbling back down the well once more.

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“Let him out.” Malleus’ smile now showed off his teeth. Patrick and O’Reilly stood at the front of the proverbial pack, as the rest of the leprechaun guards - who all looked a bit tuckered out after their skirmish on the surface level - stood behind them. More than a few of them were trembling. Malleus Draconia supposed he could not blame them. The Little People were low on the fairy totem pole…and the sight of one such as himself, with their own prince trapped and squirming inside his belly, would have likely been more than enough to instill fear in even the hardiest of creatures. Still, his green eyes danced with a mixture of respect and amusement. Patrick and O’Reilly showed no such signs of terror. Only simmering outrage. “Your bravery is admirable, little ones,” he commented, stroking the underside of his belly as he spoke. “Unfortunately, I believe I am well within my rights in taking this course of action.” “Don’t hand me that!” spat O’Reilly. “Ye led a team o’ interlopin’ mortals here, on the night o’ the most important holiday our people celebrate! Ye challenged our ruler to a duel, which ye knew he had nearly no hope o’ winnin’! An’ to top it off, ye tricked him an’ ye ATE HIM after winnin’!” “And I think there’s nothing you can do about any of it,” chuckled Malleus. Patrick snarled something in Gaelic. Malleus’ expression softened slightly. “You have my sympathies, Leftenants,” he intoned, and then rose from the throne, still cupping his bloated gut with one hand as Bannor’s fists pounded at his belly walls, forming tiny dents and bulges on the surface. “If my own bodyguards were present, they would, I hope, have the same reaction in such a situation. Unfortunately, as it stands, I have claimed my prize…” He patted his stomach. It made a “blortle” sound and wobbled. “...In a manner that does not defy any of the fairy laws at all. Perhaps I am bending some of the rules slightly, but I have broken none. Considering your monarch stole what was rightfully mine from me-” “SHUT UP! I DON’T WANT TO HEAR ANY OF IT!” yelled Patrick. “JUST LET HIM OUT!” Malleus’ sympathetic expression shifted. He lifted one hand - the one that wasn’t tracing circles around his own navel - and the cane he had dropped earlier flew through the air and into his grasp. “Do not come between a dragon and his prey,” he said, warningly. “I have tried to be as fair as possible to you all, under the circumstances, but my patience is not infinite.” Sparks of electricity began to surround the scepter-like topper of the staff. The leprechauns all took a step back. “Do not force my hand,” Malleus said coldly, and scratched at his stomach. It sloshed, a muffled whimpering sound coming from the curled up royal packed inside. “This feud is between your prince and myself, but I can easily take this further. I would advise you not to cause me to become angry. Let me leave with my meal, and manage as you will from there…or stand in my way, and at least two of you will join him.” Patrick and O’Reilly’s faces finally did show fear, but nevertheless, they took up fighting positions. Their soldiers seemed equally scared, but they still followed suit. Malleus seemed disappointed, but only for a moment. A wicked smirk painted his lips, which he licked subtly. “Very well, if you insist. I suppose I could go for some dessert…” “STOP!” The sparks disappeared from Malleus’ weapon, and his eyes widened in surprise - in fact, his expression almost bordered on shock - as he looked past the leprechauns to the source of the voice. The little green guards all looked to see who had spoken, and soon showed matching looks of amazement. “Prefect?” murmured Malleus. “You!” exclaimed Patrick, as you ran across the room from the entrance, pausing about halfway to the throne. “How did ye get in here?!” “You left the door open,” you drawled in response. “I know you guys were in a hurry, but next time double-check.” Patrick flushed and said nothing as O’Reilly gave him an almost scolding sort of glance. You paid little mind to the lieutenants. You fixed the dragon prince with the firmest expression you could, as Malleus continued to stare at you, as if stunned by your appearance. “Let him go, Malleus,” you all but commanded. “This really isn’t worth it.” Malleus blinked twice…then his expression cooled and he smiled. “I’m surprised you’re making such a demand, Child of Man,” he purred, and rubbed his belly up and down in a smooth, almost seductive sort of way. “I honestly would have expected you to be the most supportive of my methods in punishing this thieving little creature.” You blushed and squirmed slightly. “If my…INTERESTS had anything to do with it, I wouldn’t have saved him from Ruggie to begin with,” you muttered, then spoke aloud. “Malleus, you really don’t understand what’s going on. These…extremes really are not necessary!” “I say they are,” scowled Malleus, gripping his belly possessively. “How can I be sure he won’t put the Come Hither on you or Grim once more? How can I keep you safe when the threat of being stolen away is always present?” “He wasn’t trying to STEAL me. At least, not exactly,” you sighed. “He was…trying to help me.” Malleus just looked at you. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. “...Help you?” he repeated at last. You nodded. “And what help could he offer that I was not already able to do?” he retorted. “How did keeping you a prisoner ‘help’ you at all?” His gaze softened, there was a sadness to his eyes. “I might not have seen you again, my friend,” he whispered, in a shattered sort of voice. “I’m not saying what he did was right,” you replied. “But how is what you’re doing any better? You’re taking him away from the people who care about him most. Just like he took me away from you.” “I’d call that karmic justice.” “I’d call that two ridiculous misunderstandings!” you almost shouted, an action that made Malleus and the leprechauns alike jolt back, slightly startled. You took a breath then moved closer, approaching the throne. Once you were near enough, you placed a hand on Malleus Draconia’s swollen belly. You could feel Bannor wriggling beneath his skin. You tried your best to ignore the mixed emotions that flooded you as a result as you looked into Malleus’ glowing green irises. “Please,” you implored, softly. “Let him out. This doesn’t have to end this way for anyone.” Malleus looked back at you for a moment, as if checking to see if you would blink. When he blinked first, he sighed, then gave a small sort of smile. “Alright,” he agreed. “Since you are so adamant, and I am clearly in a…precarious position, as it is…” He glanced towards the leprechaun guards gathered ‘round before looking back into your face. “...I’ll do as you ask.” You smiled gratefully and backed up a few paces. The leprechauns at your feet all kept glancing between yourself and Malleus, with mixed expressions of apprehension, confusion, and more than a few looks of anxious hope. Malleus closed his eyes, as if focusing, one hand pressing into his stomach firmly. His nostrils flared as he began to breathe in…his Adam’s Apple bobbed as he gulped down air, sending it into his bubbling gut. Muffled noises of scared confusion came from his stomach as Bannor reacted to the influx of “fresh” (it wasn’t so fresh by the time it reached him) air in the sac-like prison of flesh that squelched and squished around him. Knowing what was coming, you turned pink in the cheeks, then looked down towards Patrick and O’Reilly. “Uh…you and your friends might wanna cover your ears,” you warned. “Just a heads-up.” Taking your advice, the leprechauns hurriedly plugged up their pointed ears with their fingertips. It wasn’t a moment too soon, for a second later, Malleus’ green eyes widened as he thumped his chest with his other hand. His cheeks swelled up almost comically…and then… “UUUUUURRRRRROOOOOOAAAAARRRRRRLLLLLLLP-HACK!” The rumbling, wet burp - a most uncouth display from the prince of the dark fae - was concluded by an unpleasant wretching noise. Something solidly visibly came up from Malleus’ stomach, the thick swell in his belly shifting upwards, back into his gullet. He grunted and burped a few more times - shorter, more strained sounds than the first blast - before, finally, a familiar form came slipping from his open maw, and flopped onto the floor of the throne room like a limp fish. Naturally, the solid object was Prince Bannor O’Brien. While Malleus summoned a handkerchief from seemingly thin air and wiped at his mouth - looking mildly disgusted by his own crude behavior - you knelt down beside the eighteen-inch royal. He was covered in a heavy film of stomach slime, his garments utterly ruined, but he otherwise seemed unharmed. With a groan, Bannor’s eyes fluttered open. A few unintelligible mumbles, almost as if he were talking in his sleep, left the leprechaun’s mouth as he blinked blearily up at you. A small smile began to form over his face…but soon, a look of alarm filled his emerald eyes, when he saw Malleus looming over him. Draconia held up a hand, in a placating, patience-seeking gesture, as if to assure Bannor he would not harm him. Bannor glared back, but his expression softened as he looked at you once more. “Did…did you…save me?” he coughed out. You nodded with a slight smirk. “Yeah…for the record, I think rescuing you from somebody’s digestive system is becoming a habit, Your Highness. Please, let’s stop it.” Bannor gave a weak smirk in return. Then his eyes lit up. “Wait…did ye…did ye come back to stay?” he asked, hopefully. “I knew it! I knew ye couldn’t stay away-!” You shook your head, stopping him in his tracks. “Listen, Bannor…your home is amazing. It really is. And I know you mean well. But a person isn’t something you can just hoard like a piece of treasure, no matter what your reasons for doing so are. And besides, I think you really need to get all your facts straight.” “All me facts straight?” Bannor repeated, with a frown. He tossed his head indicatively upwards, towards Malleus. “About him, ye mean? Because-” Bannor paused. He felt the top of his saliva-slickened scalp and frowned. “Hold on…where’s me crown?” “BRRRUUUPP!” Malleus burped again, and a familiar gold-and-emerald crown flew from his jaws. It bounced and rolled across the floor with a jangling sound. The leprechauns gathered around looked almost as green as one of Malleus’ flames; the dragon prince pardoned himself under his breath, covering his mouth, seeming genuinely embarrassed. You couldn’t help but snort with laughter at the look Bannor gave the half-dragon. You quickly composed yourself and spoke up. “Let’s get things on track,” you said, catching the sludge-coated leprechaun’s attention. “Bannor…you never needed to take me away from Night Raven. I didn’t need a new home, because my old home was never really in any danger.” “But…but yer dorm was flooded, wasn’t it?” “Hardly a cause for the greatest alarm, when there is magic around,” Malleus muttered, speaking up and joining in the explanation. “The Prefect’s house is only TEMPORARILY unusable.” “Temporarily?” repeated Bannor. “Yes,” Malleus nodded. “They came to me for help, after I’d seen it all happen.” “I was under his protection, staying in his dorm, until my home got repaired,” you said. “That’s why he was so upset and why all…” You gestured to the prince’s ruined cape. “...THIS ended up happening.” Bannor seemed stunned. “Then…then ye mean to say…I took ye away without there ever bein’ a real reason fer it?” “I’m afraid so,” you chuckled. “Your messenger only got part of the information needed. It wasn’t their fault or anyone else’s; this whole thing has just been one mountain made out of a misunderstood molehill.” You then looked up at Malleus. “That’s also why I wanted to let him out,” you said. “Malleus, he wasn’t trying to kidnap me outright, or hurt me…Bannor just wanted to help. I saved his life, and he was trying to repay the favor by helping me out of what he thought was an irreversible situation.” Malleus’ eyes widened for a moment…then narrowed again. “I see,” he whispered, then looked at Bannor and bowed deeply, one hand to his heart as he bent down on one knee. “In that Event, fellow prince - and I say those words without sarcasm - it is I who am in the wrong. My actions were greatly unwarranted, and could have proven beyond unfortunate for both our races. No apologies of mine can be enough, I’m sure, but I give them to you nonetheless.” Bannor paused for a moment, looking Malleus up and down, before finally giving his answer: “After I get the stink o’ dragon gob outta me hair an’ skin, I think I’ll be able to accept that apology.” Malleus smirked, but only for a fleeting moment. Bannor gave a nervous smile in return. It was equally fleeting. He grunted and got to his feet, his cape still dripping goop onto the floor. “Ahem…I - ugh, excuse me, the smell really is rank - AHEM! I feel I must apologize, too. Me choices were equally bad. I assure ye, all I wanted was to repay the person who helped me, an’ I suppose I was too overzealous in that endeavor. By all rights, they belong with ye, at Night Raven, not here among the Little People. I hope ye will accept me own apology…and, uh…I-I hope ye won’t…y’know…eat me again…” “I think I prefer more filling meals,” grinned Malleus, almost teasingly. Bannor’s nervous smile returned in full force. “Ahem!” coughed Patrick, and your eyes and those of the two princes turned towards him and O’Reilly. They and the leprechaun guards were still watching all this unfold. “Y’know, grand as this may be…we still have a feast to get back to,” Patrick grumbled. “Aye!” O’Reilly nodded. “The night can’t last forever, sir!” “Faith, an’ yer right!” exclaimed Bannor, then grinned up at you and Malleus. “Might I invite ye to join us fer the party, once I summon back my people?” Malleus was all but brimming with delight at the moment the word “invite” was uttered. You chuckled, and nodded. “I think we’d be happy to. After you clean up, of course,” you said, gesturing to Bannor’s clothes. “Ah! Nothin’a bit o’ magic can’t fix!” laughed Bannor. He snapped his fingers, and with a simple spell, his clothes returned to their clean state, and the smell of Malleus’ stomach acids disappeared into the ether. You were almost sorry about that last part. A few moments later, Patrick came jogging over, offering the Prince his now-clean crown. Bannor replaced the crown on his head and swirled his cape, his freckled face beaming with its usual cheerful radiance. “Summon the Little People back to the dance!” he ordered. “O’Reilly, go fetch the other mortals upstairs! They’re all invited to join in the celebration!” “We’ll make sure they behave themselves,” you promised, as O’Reilly hurried off to the surface, and Patrick raced away to gather the rest of the leprechauns from their hideaways under the ground. “Thank you, Bannor!” “Sure, an’ this is the least I can do,” Bannor replied, then a slight smirk crossed his lips. “In fact…seein’ as this whole chaotic debacle was caused by my own foolery, would ye be against takin’ an offer from me?” “That entirely depends on what it is,” Malleus said. “The offer is for yer mortal friend here,” said the leprechaun prince, gesturing to you. “Me?” you blinked. “Yes, you! Ye’ve saved me life TWICE now, an’ ye helped clear up a nasty mess! Fer that, I insist upon givin’ ye somethin’ in return!” You were about to deny the offer…but, for multiple reasons, you second-guessed that choice. An idea thus came into your head… “Well…honestly, I kinda feel bad asking, but…I understand leprechauns give three wishes to mortals who ‘capture’ them,” you said, with a twinkle in your eye. “Would that apply to those that help them?” “It can, if I say so,” said Bannor with a grin. “I’m the Prince, y’know! Go ahead! Wish yer wishes!” “Remember,” Malleus warned. “Only three. And be careful what you wish for, Prefect.” “That’s alright,” you said with a smile. “I already know what I’m going to ask for.” Malleus smiled, as if he had suspected as much. He waved a hand elegantly in a “go ahead” gesture. Your own smile widened as you looked back into the little prince’s expectant gaze. “My first wish is…”

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“Well? WELL?! Don’t keep us in suspense! C’mon, let’s hear it!” You chuckled as Ruggie Bucchi nudged you in-between bites of a large sampling from the buffet he had gathered. His tail wagged happily as he slurped and chomped up heaping helpings of meat and potatoes from his plate. Scooping them up with a fork. You chuckled, nursing the cup of cider in your hand as you sat upon the chest of diamonds once more. “It wasn’t for the gold, Ruggie,” you said. “So don’t act so excited.” “Awww,” whined Ruggie, his ears dipping down, as he looked longingly towards the crock of gold in the corner of the hall. He pouted slightly as he saw Grim was chowing down on the contents of another crock…which was filled with fresh, full-sized tuna. “Was your first wish for that?” he asked, pointing to Grim’s gluttonous display with his fork. “Yup,” you nodded. “I figured Grim wouldn’t shut up if I didn’t give him something like that, for a start, and besides, there’s enough tuna there to feed him for a week…” On cue, Grim let out a huge burp and cheered with joy before digging right back into the tuna inside the cauldron, practically upside down as his trident tail whipped about joyously. You squirmed as Ruggie gave you a sly smirk. “Can you count on that?” he teased. “...Well…okay, maybe it’ll feed him for a day, but that’s still something.” “Shishishishi!” Ruggie snickered, and stuffed some beef into his own fanged mouth. “All the same, I’m surprised you didn’t try to get it with your second wish,” spoke up Azul Ashengrotto. He was drinking some cider himself, standing on your opposite side from Ruggie Bucchi. “Wouldn’t the gold have been useful to you?” “Honestly, in my opinion, it would have been more of a bother to me than anything else,” you shrugged, then gave him a slightly teasing smile. “Don’t tell me you weren’t planning to find some way to get it all from me, if I HAD taken it.” Azul’s chilled expression as he sipped from his cup spoke volumes. “Thought so,” you chuckled. “Honestly, Azul…all I really want is to get Grim and I back home to Ramshackle Dorm. So, my second wish was that the plumbing would be perfectly fixed by morning, and my third was that the dorm would never flood again.” “You do realize, that won’t save your home from other potential problems,” Azul noted. “And just because the plumbing is fixed, not everything will be.” You shrugged a second time. “If that happens, I’ll deal with it as it comes,” you replied. “For the moment, I’ve gotten all I need and want…” You looked out over the hall of the leprechauns. A gentle smile crossed your face as you watched the merriment around you: Ace and Deuce laughed and danced together, in the middle of a wide group of the Little People. They all tapped their feet and clicked their heels to the merry tune of a pair of fiddles. Malleus and Prince Bannor smirked at each other over each of their shoulders, as their violins sang out the tune of The Fox Chase. You found yourself tapping your own foot and bobbing your head to the jolly, jaunty music, chuckling as you sipped from your cup of cider and sighed. “...I’ve made a new acquaintance, my dorm will be safe for a while, and I’m certainly experiencing a night to remember,” you concluded, and turned to Azul. “Honestly, what more could I want?” “Your altruistic ideals are truly charming,” Azul said sincerely…then turned away as he added under his breath. “But between us, I’d rather have the gold.” “Hey, cheer up, Azul!” grinned Ruggie. “Now that we know where the fairy mound is, we can easily catch ourselves a leprechaun another day!” Azul’s expression shifted in a sly and sneaky smile. “Why, Ruggie…how could you possibly suggest such a thing? Taking advantage of our hosts that way,” he tutted, insincerely. “Perish the thought.” Ruggie snickered nastily. You smiled and shook your head wearily, taking another drink as you simply soaked in the sounds of the dance around you. You didn’t have the heart to tell either of them that all memories of the fairy mound’s location would be removed from their minds, as well as from those of everyone else…except for you and Malleus. After all, Malleus was a prince of the fae, so he would always know…and you had asked - not wished, but simply asked - if you could join in the Wearing of the Green next year. Naturally, Bannor had been happy to agree. It was nice to have friends in high places. As you were pondering the cheerful atmosphere, Ace and Deuce suddenly came bounding over to you. “Come on, Prefect!” laughed Ace. “Don’t just sit around, let’s dance!” You blushed as you put down your now-empty glass. “I, uh…I-I dunno, I’ve never danced to-” “No buts!” grinned Deuce, and each of them took hold of one of your arms. “Let’s go!” You cried out as the pair dragged you into the center of the throne room…but any protests you had soon dissolved into laughter as the three of you spun round and round, capering to the beat of the twin fiddles. Malleus and Bannor, seeing you join in the frivolity, each grinned and picked up the pace of their playing, the music becoming even faster and more exciting. Soon, Azul and Ruggie were clapping to the beat, cheering you on as you and your friends danced about. The leprechauns applauded as you kept perfect step to the tune. You weren’t sure you’d smiled so broadly in all your life. Silently, you wondered if Bannor would agree to let you bring some friends along next year. For all of the craziness that led up to this moment…a party like this, you decided, was something that shouldn’t be a once in a lifetime event. Besides…they all looked good in green.

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“So, how was your evening?” teased Lila Vanrouge, leaning against the doorframe to Malleus Draconia’s chambers. The fae prince hummed thoughtfully as he shut his wardrobe; he’d long since changed out of his top hat and frock coat, and was now redressed in his school uniform, ready to begin the day’s classes. “It was…eventful,” he chose to say. He smirked over his shoulder at his fatherly assistant. “Incidentally, it appears that their skills in cobbling are not the only place where the Little People show good taste.” Lilia grinned toothily. “I could have told you that,” he practically purred. Malleus chuckled. “Well, at any rate, it’s been quite some time since I’ve been able to attend a festival of such…entrancing energy,” Malleus said, and a soft, almost sad smile came to face. “Madness only knows when I’ll get another chance.” Lilia’s smile turned sympathetic. “I’m sure it won’t be too long,” he promised, then checked the clock. His smile fell. “Oh, dear…I’m going to be late for my first class. I’ll have to see you later, Malleus. Please make sure you’re on time to your own classes…oh! And don’t get too rough on the sports field today, okay? I know how you young ones can get after a rowdy night.” “I’m not freshly hatched anymore, you know, even when compared to you,” frowned Malleus. Lilia just giggled and waggled his fingers in a jokey sort of wave, before merrily traipsing off towards his class. He shut the door behind him. Malleus rolled his eyes, shaking his head as he went into the adjoining bathroom of his dorm room. He was in the process of checking to make sure his horns were in good condition, and did not require extra polishing…when he heard a knock on his door. “There’s no need to check on me, Silver,” he called out, with a slightly irritated sigh. “I’ll be right out.” He’d guessed it was silver on account of the fact Sebek would have been accompanied by a great deal of random shouting. However, the voice he heard that DID call through the keyhole was that of neither of his attendants. “Good to know, but wrong human.” Malleus didn’t teleport, but he reached the door so swiftly, he might as well have. He opened it quickly but carefully, and looked down at you. “Prefect! This is a pleasant surprise,” he grinned, then cocked his head to one side. “Is everything copacetic? I was under the impression that your wishes would have provided a suitable fix to your housing problem.” “Oh, they did, I just came from there,” you nodded. You smiled shyly up at the dragon prince, your hands behind your back. “I just…well…I wanted to say thank you.” “Oh?” Malleus replied. “For what?” “For everything,” you almost laughed. “For giving me a place to stay, for coming to my rescue, for listening about Bannor…I don’t know if anyone else here at Night Raven would have done everything you did, in the way you did, just for me and Grim. I’m grateful.” “Your gratitude is appreciated, but there’s really no need to worry yourself,” Malleus smiled. “You’re one of the few people I can call a true friend, Child of Man. I would gladly wrestle with demons and catapult angels if it meant I could keep you safe and happy.” “Don’t say stuff like that. At the rate I keep getting into trouble, that might actually end up becoming a thing, you know.” “You say that as if my statement would be any less true,” Malleus smirked. You chuckled, and a slightly sneaky smile crossed your lips. “Well, in that case, I’m hoping you won’t refuse me this,” you said, and revealed your hands from behind your back. Malleus stepped back slightly. He blinked at the object you had thrust toward him. It was a folded piece of card stock, with the logo of Ramshackle Dorm printed on the front. “What…is this?” Malleus asked, tapping the folded card with one long, strong finger. His eyes were wide and questioning. “It’s an invitation,” you answered. Malleus Draconia’s pointed ears pricked up. His wide eyes somehow seemed even wider. His pupils almost seemed to dilate. “An invitation?” he repeated, softly. “For…for me?” “Are there any other devilishly handsome half-dragons in the vicinity?” You smirked wider at the vague hint of green that came to the prince’s alabaster cheeks; his own form of a blush. He carefully accepted the invitation. “Might I ask what the occasion is?” he inquired. “Nothing too special,” you shrugged. “Basically, since Bannor wiped the memories of everyone but you or I about what happened last night at the fairy mound, I figured the ‘sudden and miraculous fixing of Ramshackle Dorm’ deserved some kind of gathering.” “A housewarming party,” Malleus smiled. “Something like that,” you answered, shrugging once again. “But I DO have my memory,” Malleus reminded you, tapping the side of his head in emphasis. “Well, yeah, but you’re my friend. And you were one of the ones who helped me. I couldn’t just leave you out, could I?” The look Malleus gave you so resembled a lovesick puppy that you couldn’t help but giggle. He must have caught himself, because he once again blushed faintly before clicking his heels together, straightening his posture…then, holding the invitation behind his own back and his other hand to his heart, he bowed regally. “I would be honored to attend, dearest mortal,” he intoned, grandiosely. “Good. Don’t be late!” you sang teasingly. “I shall be fashionably early,” Malleus promised. “That works, too,” you chuckled. After that, you bid the fairy prince a polite but hasty goodbye; you both had places to be. In your case, while you had no classes that day, you needed to get everything ready for the party tonight. Feeding a dragon, a hungry octopus, Ruggie, Ace, Deuce, and the resident bottomless pit of the Haunted Mansion was all going to prove QUITE the challenge. A very, very, very blush-inducing challenge. As you exited the castle of Diasomnia’s dorm, and walked along the thorny path that led back to the mirror portal, you suddenly heard a familiar voice… “Y’know, I’ve never particularly understood the appeal o’ this place…I prefer greener pastures, I suppose.” You turned your head…and smiled. Bannor O’Brien was standing under a pale thorn bush, smiling up at you with a twinkle in his green eyes. He had removed his cape and his crown, and looked much the way he had when you had first met him. “What are you doing here?” “I was sittin’ in me throne room, an’ the thought came to me. ‘Bannor,’ says I to meself, ‘tis at their side ye should be. Just one last time,’” he said, with a slightly sad smile. You smiled back, much less sadly, and knelt down to be on more level ground with the prince. “It doesn’t have to be the last time. I said I’d visit next year, didn’t I?” you said, softly. “I know,” sighed Bannor, and looked up towards the sky. “But even for an immortal like meself, next year can feel like a lifetime away.” “Everything is fixed now at Ramshackle Dorm. I’m truly thankful for that.” “Never let it be said a leprechaun didn’t give anybody exactly what they wished for,” said Bannor, puffing out his little chest with pride. “After ye saved me hide twice, I couldn’t exactly rip ye off, could I now?” “I’m thankful anyway,” you chuckled. You paused, then decided to continue: “I want you to know…I actually did almost feel tempted to stay.” Bannor’s eyes widened. “In all the stories I used to hear from my grandparents, the fairy mound sounded like a dream come true. And in a way, it was. I never saw dancing so fine, or heard piping so shockingly sweet, or listened to a pair of fiddles so grand. I definitely never imagined I’d be sitting on diamonds. But like I said to Grim, mortals need bitter to go with the sweet…I could have been happy there, but I don’t know for how long. And besides, like I said, all I needed was my home back.” Bannor nodded slowly in understanding. “I suppose Prince Malleus an’ yer fellow mortals must’ve known that,” he murmured, then smiled up at you gently. “Y’know, fer all their strange points…ye seem to have a great collection of friends.” “I know,” you said, without an ounce of humility, then smiled a bit wider. “You know…you could be part of that collection, if you wanted.” “Me?” blinked Bannor. “Why not?” you smiled. “But…mortals and leprechauns-” “I think we’ve established I have no interest in your crock of gold, and I certainly don’t plan on making any more wishes at the moment.” “But what about the rest-” “We can keep it secret, at least for a while,” you said. “The only ones who need to know are you, me, Malleus, and probably Grim and the Ghosts. I think you can take that much without worry, right?” Bannor’s eyes sparkled like the brightest emeralds of Sage’s Island. “I be forever grateful,” he breathed. “There’s no need for that,” you chuckled. “To be honest, Bannor, I think I’ve had enough of that level of gratitude for a while.” Bannor smirked. “Ye’d better get used to it…my friend,” he said, nearly choking up on the last two words before his voice steadied once more. “When would ye like to meet up?” “I have a day off today. How’d you like to come with me, maybe help me out preparing for a party I’m having tonight with my schoolmates?” “Grand!” Bannor chirruped, and gave a wink. “In that case, I’ll see ye at Ramshackle!” With a snap of his fingers, the leprechaun disappeared. You smiled and stood up, then stuffed your hands in your pockets. As you continued along the route that led back to Ramshackle Dorm, you sang softly to yourself; an old song your grandparents had taught you, what seemed another age ago. You’d never expected the song to become a reality in any way. “In a shady glade, one moonlit night, a leprechaun I spied. With scarlet cap, and coat of green, and crúiscín by his side. Tick-tack, tick-tack, his hammer went upon a tiny shoe! And I laughed to think of a purse of gold, but the fairy was laughing, too. Yes, I laughed to think of a purse of gold, but the fairy was laughing, too…”

The End

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