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snexy-the-snail · 10 days ago

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Containment Protocal, MK Style

HEHEHHE slowly getting into it, I'm not sure how I was to twist and turn things lol

The sun was high above Flower Fruit Mountain, warm and golden. Mk swore that it was always perfect weather, no matter what. The trees shimmered with light through their emerald canopies, the birds chattered like gossips, and the breeze rustled like a sigh through the long grasses.

MK was focused, breath even, and stance solid. At least, he hoped so; he was getting tired of running the same stance over and over again. When no correction came, he started to run through forms one after the other, staff spinning and legs sweeping. Wukong sat off to the side, tail lazily flicking, eyes half-lidded but focused. Mk having learned closed eyes didn't mean the celestial wasn't watching.

"Better," Wukong said as MK landed a difficult twist into a low crouch, "but that last sweep was too wide. You'd lose your footing on slick stone."

MK groaned, dragging the staff across his shoulders. "I was on slick grass." He didn't pout because that would be childish, obviously. Though he did smile slightly with his mentor.

Mk's smile fades when Wukong's ears twitch sharply, and his whole body becomes rigid. That never bodes well; part of him expected something big and ugly to charge out of the trees, his eyes snapping to the tree line.

"What is it?" he asks staff poised for a fight. The Monkey King didn't answer. His nostrils flared, his golden eyes flashing toward the northern treeline. MK also directed his gaze there, using gold vision, and still saw nothing. The ground beneath them gave the faintest thrum; however, birds scattered. Something had happened; that much was obviously more so when Wukong stood abruptly.

"Kid," he said, voice tight and unfamiliar. "I need you to trust me right now."

"Wait, what's-?" MK started. There were a dozen things he was expecting, to be tossed, carried off by a clone, maybe told to brace himself.

"No time."

Wukong's magic pulsed out with a shimmer of gold. MK barely had a second to register it before his body compressed down, fast, briefly falling through the air until he landed in something soft and warm. MK blinked up in surprise, a tad disoriented from the sudden compression. He was used to it, like riding a bicycle after a while or not.

Wukong hesitated, crouching over him like a wall of fur and muscle. "I'm gonna stash you someplace safe. You're mortal. Whatever this thing, it's not mortal friendly, bud."

MK opened his mouth to reply, but Wukong had already lifted him up, careful fingers cradling him close.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Just hang in there, okay?"

And with that warmth encircled him, a golden glow surrounded him like an odd sort of blanket. "Wait- hang on-" He squeaks, scrambling to try and lay down. He knew the rules; this was something he had way too much practice with.

Wukong tilted his head back and swallowed before he had time to lay flat. An 'oof' escaped him as he was awkwardly crammed into the celestial's throat. It wasn't ideal having his legs pressed to his chest, but he had managed to lift his arms up to make himself less bunched up. He hoped it eased some of the uncomfortableness.

He landed in a space with a squelch, huffing as thick slime instantly clung to his skin and clothing. Ugh, so much slime, oh! It glowed. "That's so cool.' he whispers, lifting a hand up to examine the soft, pulsing glow. The stomach flexed around him like a heartbeat, one that WUkong apparently didn't have right away, the steady beat happening after a second. Glowing threads of magic pulsed warmly from the lining like a living being on its own time.

"Wow," he shifts to his knees, his mind slowly catching up with him. "Smells weird in here. Like peaches and incense."

Outside, Wukong was crouched low, staff in hand, tail lashing. He braced against the tremors building in the earth. MK's voice rang out from inside his gut, muffled but clear. Wukogn grits his teeth, expecting a rapid fire of questions and freakouts he was not mentally prepared for. He had seen some of MK's magical rants and was not excited to feel that inside.

"Hey! Are you okay out there? This is actually kinda nice."

Wukong froze, his gaze dropping to his middle. "You're... not freaking out?" Any other mortal would be freaking out, screaming, maybe kicking. His stomach whines at the thought.

"Nah." A pause. "I grew up with Pigsy, remember? This is like a classic 'tummy time-out.' He used to do this whenever I got too rowdy in the kitchen."

"What." Wukong blinked, thrown completely off.

MK shifted, maybe a shrug? Or Just getting comfortable? Wukong wasn't sure and couldn't exactly see it. "I mean, yeah, he's a pig demon. It wasn't often, but ya know, squirmy kid, dangerous equipment, sometimes I needed a safe pen for five minutes."

Wukogn expected screaming that there would be panic, thrashing, and crying. That he'd lose the boy's trust in one terrified heartbeat. Instead, much to his surprise, MK acted like this was normal.

"This is kinda cozy, honestly," MK added, Wukogn feeling him flopping down against the stomach lining, the muscle shifting to accommodate. "You're way warmer than Pigsy."

A beat. Then two.

From the canopy, something hissed, a thousand-legged shadow crawling through the underbrush. Wukong's eyes sharpened. His gut clenched protectively, just enough to hold so the small thing inside wouldn't be jostled. Just enough to keep MK nestled.

"Hold tight, bud," he said quietly, a smile ghosting across his lips now. "I'll be back before you digest."

"Hey! I know you're lying!"

Wukong laughed, tense but grateful, and vanished in a flash of golden cloud, barreling toward the danger with a quiet storm curled safely behind his ribs.

The world around MK gently shifted and would blur at times, which was a little dizzying, a deep thrum echoing through the plush walls as Wukong moved. It was weird; he could literally see how Wukong's magic worked, pulsing when used, glowing brighter, or dimming. MK remained still, tucked in tight as the stomach muscles around him flexed, briefly holding him in place before relaxing again.

His fingers idly pressed into the soft lining beneath him. It pulsed faintly with golden chi, warm to the touch and strangely pleasant. No sting of acid. No burning. Just ambient, living energy, like the heartbeat of the mountain itself. MK chuckled to himself, rubbing the back of his neck.

"Pigsy would laugh his tail off if he saw this."

He remembered the first time, years ago, he'd knocked over a pot of hot broth, bolted around the kitchen shrieking, and Pigsy, in a moment of demonic exasperation, had scooped him up and gently tucked him away for five minutes in a place where he couldn't knock over anything else.

The memory made him grin. That time had smelled like spice and ginger. This? This smelled faintly of peaches, incense, and old stone warmed by the sun.

Above him, the stomach walls flexed again, not in a dangerous way, just responding to Wukong's movement. MK could faintly hear it: the distant boom of impact, the scrape of claws against the rock, and the sharp, irritated growl that only Wukong could make when someone dared threaten his mountain. He winced at a particularly loud crack above, followed by another growl, one that rumbled straight through him.

"Yikes. That didn't sound friendly." He comments to himself, not expecting an answer as Wukong fought. Still, MK wasn't worried. If anything, he was fascinated.

"Celestial biology's wild," he muttered to himself, reaching out to press a palm against the golden inner wall. "Feels like- like being in a bowl of jello."

The chi wasn't just light. He realized it shimmered like threads woven through the tissue, gently shifting in patterns and wards. Protection. It was magic, not just muscle. Something sacred. MK shifted to lie on his side, cheek pressed against the soft lining.

"Gotta say, Monkey King," he called up toward the ceiling if there was a ceiling, "this might be the fanciest tummy time-out I've ever been in."

A rumble passed through the chamber in response, almost like a hum. Maybe Wukong heard him. Maybe he was just fighting hard and pissed off. Either way, MK stretched, feeling the tension of training seep from his muscles.

"I get why Pigsy did this now," he mumbled sleepily. "Can't break anything. Can't get into trouble. Warm. Kinda like a weighted blanket, but alive."

Outside, Wukong struck with a growl that shook the space-like lighting, the glow nearly blinding. MK barely shifted; he was held too securely at the moment, the stomach walls compensating for every motion, protecting him from even the harshest jerks of the body.

MK tucked his hands behind his head, eyes fluttering closed as the golden glow dimmed with his senses. He took a deep breath, thinking how it was almost funny, how natural it felt.

"Man," MK murmured. "Next time Pigsy says I need a babysitter, you're tagging in first, huh?"

The last echoes of the fight faded into the wind.

Wukong stood still for a moment longer, golden staff shrinking in his hand, breath curling in the air from exertion. His fur was singed in a few places, a long gash across one shoulder already closing with a shimmer of light. The earth around him was scored and cracked, trees uprooted, and rocks split open, but Flower Fruit Mountain stood safe behind him. MK was safe inside.

He laid a hand against his stomach, where MK still nestled, quiet and still. Too still. No struggling. No yelling. No screaming.

Wukong's ears flattened slightly. That wasn't… normal, especially for a mortal. He inhaled deeply, murmuring a quiet spell. The golden warmth of his body shifted, magic unraveling just enough to guide MK gently back up the way he'd come.

A soft cough and MK's small, slime-slick form appeared in Wukong's palm.

And still no panic. No flailing. The kid simply blinked up at him, squinting a little in the light. Wukong braced for something. He hadn't exactly heard all of what the kid was saying during the fight, focused on not taking any strikes to his middle.

"Yo. That was wild. Your stomach glows. Same with the slime. Like—actual gold glow. That's so cool."

Wukong's mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. He had no idea what he'd expected, sobbing, accusations, vomiting? Some wide-eyed horror at having been eaten alive? Sure, the kid had said he had experienced it before, but this wasn't what he expected. Not a fascinated teenager brushing golden stomach slime off his face like he'd just finished a carnival ride.

"I-uh-" Wukong started, but MK was already continuing, wiping his hands on his pants with a grimace, this huffing as if realizing his pants would be in the same state as his hands.

"I didn't bring an extra pair of clothes, though. Can I go dunk myself in the stream real quick? I, uh… kinda look like I got hugged by a magic slug."

Wukong stared.

MK blinked up at him, oblivious to the silent, screaming thoughts behind those golden eyes. That wasn't right. Mortals weren't supposed to be okay with that. He'd swallowed him whole without much warning because it was the only way to keep him safe, and now the kid was just… chattering?

His hand trembled. Just slightly. Barely noticeable.

He masked it with a grin, all tooth and bravado. "Careful, bud. You start thinking that's 'cool,' I might start charging for stomach tours."

MK snorted. "Eh, you'd owe Pigsy royalties. He did it first."

Wukong let out a bark of laughter, too sharp, too relieved, and lowered MK to the grass. A subtle flick of magic expanded him back to normal size, restoring every detail with practiced ease. Wukong's eyes scanned him the entire time, checking his limbs, aura, expression, and anything out of place. Anything wrong. MK just wiggled his boots and looked down at his slime-streaked shirt with a wrinkled nose.

"Ugh. I am soaked."

Wukong exhaled slowly, his muscles finally relaxing, and it became even more obvious that MK wasn't shaken. Wasn't traumatized. Just mildly annoyed about the laundry situation.

"Tell you what," Wukong said, voice softer now. "Skip the cold stream. I've got old clothes back at my place. Stuff from when I was younger before I grew into all this." He gestured at himself, fur fluffing grandly. "You can dig through it. Might be something your size."

MK perked up. "Really? Awesome! Way better than dried slime."

Wukong chuckled, still watching him, still trying to make sense of this mortal boy who took everything in stride, including being swallowed whole by a celestial.

He gave MK a light pat on the back, letting the playful gesture hide the way his hand lingered just a second longer than necessary.

"You're a weird one, kid," he said, half to himself.

"Takes one to train one." MK grinned up at him, eyes bright; Wukong chuckled, nudging the boy with his shoulder. They headed back toward the temple.

#safe vore #extreme cuddling #protective vore #endosoma #comfort vore #vore mentioned #g/t vore #lego nomkie kid #LMK noms

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snexy-the-snail · 12 days ago

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Within Me the Sky

HEHEH Pred percy strikes again! @notmyprey

Percy grits his teeth, curling up against a tree. The evidence of him stumbling through shows various footprint sizes, and some accidentally snapped trees. The bitter feeling had come back, tearing through his chest like the deepest pain he had ever felt. He always tried ignoring it. No matter what. Poseidon told him not to harm himself, Mr.D called him dramatic, Apollo learned not to say anything, and Hermes would just sit with him.

"Percy?"

Jason.

Percy hated how his mouth started watering, just like it had been doing when the younger campers were practicing their stances, how he felt the urge to surge forward and swallow any of them whole. He shudders, digging his hand into the dirt, seeking out some sort of grounding.

"Not right now. No- you don't- not right now I'm going.." He trips over his own words, disgusted to see glowing saliva dripping onto the ground.

"You think walking away will change anything?" Jason asked quietly. The words made everything surge in Percy, the new godling standing suddenly. His fists clenched, eyes flashing with the blue-green glow.

"I'm not the kid you used to know, Jason. I'm not the guy who can just dive into a fight and come out clean. I'm a god now. I'm supposed to be immortal, but this- this feels like a curse."

The wind picked up as Percy raised his hand, and suddenly, the ground beneath them cracked with a deafening sound. A jagged fissure split the earth, glowing faintly with divine energy, just inches from Jason's feet.

"Get away," Percy hissed, the power surging dangerously close to spilling out. He hopes the display would make Jason leave. He couldn't stand the idea of swallowing his friend, making him even more afraid.

Jason stared into his glowing eyes, unafraid. Not moving a muscle, even stepping forward around the crack.

"No," Jason said firmly. "I'm not leaving you. You're not alone in this, Percy."

Percy's breath hitched, a mix of anger and desperation swirling in his chest. "I told you. Go back to camp. Leave me be."

Jason took another step forward, calm and steady. "You don't get to push me away. Not now. Not ever."

The crack in the earth hummed with raw energy, but Jason didn't flinch. Instead, he raised his hand, steady and sure. "You don't get to fight this alone; you can't. We both know you need it."

Percy's glowing eyes flickered, the tempest inside him raging for a moment longer, then slowly receding. The fissure was sealed shut as if it had never been there to begin with. He hated how he had destroyed and fixed it like he hadn't been some sort of cosmic horror.

Jason's smile didn't make the bitter feeling in his chest any easier. In fact, it only made his mouth water more. "You're still you, Percy; this isn't changing much. You've always been protective." His friend stepped closer, body like he wasn't in danger of being swallowed down by a god.

"Y-yeah. changes a lot when you eat your friends." He grumbles, folding his arms over his middle. The wind held so many scents around him. He lets a breath out, squeezing his eyes shut, clenching his fist until the pressure gives the feeling of blood- no anchor dripping from his fist.

"It's more of holding," Jason responds easily, his voice closer now. Percy jolts as he feels his friend's hand resting on his arm.

With speed that even scared him, he pinned Jason to a tree, his powers crackling wildly as he struggled with himself. The bitter feeling felt like a Greek fire burning throughout his chest. He cracked an eye open, Jason standing there fine, not even a wince of pain.

"You're hurting yourself, Perce." Jason was calm, perfectly calm, as if he wasn't some sort of monster. As if he wasn't going to be in a stomach. A laugh chokes from his throat, his grip still firm on Jason's shoulders, his form taller now.

"Trust me. If I could feel the pain, I'd welcome it." He whispers,

Jason stared up at him, unwavering even in the face of godly power pressing down on him. The glow from Percy's eyes painted Jason's face in a surreal, oceanic hue but still, not a flicker of fear. No resistance. Just quiet, resolute presence.

Percy hated it. Hated how seen he felt.

"You can't feel pain, sure, but you still feel other emotions." Jason said, his voice low, steady. His hand came up again not to fight, not to fend off, but to rest gently against Percy's arms.

"You want me to-" Percy's voice cracked as he tried to choke down the words, but they clawed their way out anyway. "You'd really let me eat you?"

"It's more holding." Jason's expression softened from something serious to something more- more friendly, more like a teenager.

Percy reeled, body trembling with suppressed power. "Gods, Jason, why?!"

"Because it's not death, Percy. You know that." Jason soothes himself by pushing gently against the hold Percy had on his shoulders. Not to break free but to close the distance. "This isn't the end. It's part of what you are now. What we are. You didn't ask for it, but you're not cursed. You're divine. And I'm not afraid to be part of our section of the world."

Percy's fingers tightened for a moment, power crackling at his fingertips. But Jason didn't move. Didn't flinch. Just kept speaking, calm and constant like the sky itself.

". I'm offering because I trust you. Because gods do this. And I know, I know, you'd never hurt me."

The woods were quiet. Just silence and Jason's steady breathing, a heartbeat that Percy could hear. Percy's chest rose and fell like the tide in a storm. Every word Jason spoke seemed to deepen the ache inside him, the hunger that wasn't just physical but divine aching need to consume, to take in, to hold within himself.

The kind of hunger only gods could know, that terrible intimacy of swallowing something and knowing it would live on inside you. That it had to.

Jason's hand still rested on his arms. Steady. Grounding. It was more comforting than it should've been.

"Why do you make this harder?" Percy whispered. His voice was barely audible over the breeze rustling the leaves, over the pulse of divine energy in his ears. "You were supposed to be afraid. You were supposed to run."

Jason gave a faint, wry smile. "Yeah, well, not listening started rubbing off on me."

Percy let out a low, shuddering laugh. His eyes gaze at Jason's, smiling when Jason doesn't flinch. Percy felt wrong, like he was in a tight sweater. His skin shimmered with celestial light, his hair rippling as if underwater. Still, Jason stood. Still, he stayed close. Percy hated it, but a sense of relief curled in his chest as well. He was larger than anything he had felt his body shift into yet. Percy had no desire to figure out how big he really got.

"I'm scared of losing myself," Percy admitted, squeezing his eyes shut, hating how he felt that bitter feeling twisting violently in his chest, demanding he ease it.

"I'm not," Jason whispered.

That's all it took. Percy opened his mouth and leaned forward until he felt the warmth of a body on his tongue. The crackling power was different from what he was expecting, like licking a battery. Jason didn't fight, didn't scream. His eyes fluttered shut, his body loose, accepting, as Percy's mouth closed around his shoulders, then his chest. Every inch was a battle between revulsion and need, desperation, and trust, but Jason's calm presence made it bearable.

Percy didn't need to breathe, but the thoughts came like breaths as he swallowed.

He wasn't violent.

He wasn't monstrous.

Jason was safe.

The final swallow startled him; how easily Jason slipped down his throat. Feeling a crackling warmth slipping deep inside his core and settling under his ribs. He lets a shaky laugh out, a hang brushing over his chest.

A gentle pressure rested against the inside of his ribs, like a heartbeat that he forgot to have at times.

And then, like a ripple across calm water, he felt it.

"Hey."

Percy blinked, eyes lifting slightly. His powers pulsed much like a heartbeat, startling his body into making the noise again, steady and warm.

"Jason?" he whispered aloud, though he already knew. Who else could it be? It was still..new getting used to holding someone inside like this.

"Yeah. I'm here." Not mocking, not teasing, steady. A confirmation that he was fine. Something Percy even now desperately wanted to hear.

Percy laughed, choking a little on it. "Gods… this is so messed up." He had eaten his friend. It hadn't been the first time, but still, it shocked him how alone, how shocked he felt that they were safe every time.

"It's not wrong. It just is. And we're okay."

Silence passed again. Not uncomfortable. Percy hated the silence. It always left him thinking, which usually resulted in the past. Things he should have done better, people he had lost. He wasn't sure how long it was, but he spoke up again, resting his head against the tree.

"Do you ever think about the battles? The old ones?"

"Which ones?" He felt Jason shifting inside, leaning more solidly against the 'front' of his stomach. He hoped it was comfortable.

"All of them. Kronos. Gaia. Tartarus." Percy swallowed hard. "That last one. With the pit. I thought I was going to die. Like, really die." The tremor started, and there was a comforting pressure from his friend. Was it rubbing? Well, that was new; it was comforting in ways Percy never expected.

"Me too." Jason's voice came quiet, honest. "More times than I can count. Even when I smiled or made jokes—I was scared out of my mind."

Percy let his eyes drift to the canopy above. The moonlight streamed through, broken into trembling patterns by the breeze whenever the branches shifted. "I used to pretend I was fearless. For everyone else. For Annabeth. For the campers. Even when my knees were shaking."

"I know." Jason's voice was warm. Familiar. "You didn't fool me. Not really." there was a teasing tone to it. They both knew it was a lie, Jason having admitted that multiple times he had mistaken Percy for some type of god.

Percy was quiet for a moment, a pressure from his eyes. It didn't sting anymore; the pain never did come, just weird bouts of pressure. They didn't say anything; they didn't need to. He wasn't really interested in continuing to talk about emotions he struggled to feel now, like he was stranded in a desert, wading through the sand. He squeezes his eyes shut, resting a hand firmly on where his sat sat.

Percy had let Jason out. Not in an awkward trying to cough him out or guide his body out his throat, more of a flash. Something he was getting a handle on, much to his annoyance. Less human. More divine.

The winds swept gently through the pines on Half-Blood Hill, rustling the grass around the two figures sitting in the woods. The evening had fallen, casting a gold-tinged twilight over Camp Half-Blood. From here, they could just barely see the glint of Long Island Sound, the water calm for once. Jason's skin was tinted with a soft blue glow.

Percy sat hunched forward, elbows on his knees, a faraway look in his sea-green eyes. Beside him, Jaso leaned back, hands clasped behind his head, the breeze teasing the hair that wasn't plastered to his face. His glasses glinted softly in the light. They'd been silent for a while.

Percy didn't answer right away. When he did, his voice was flat, bitter. "And now I'm a god. I can do so much more and nothing at all." Jason looked at him. Percy's jaw was tight, eyes cold.

"I didn't ask for this," Percy continued, voice sharp as a blade. "I didn't want to be a god, and the worst part is it wasn't even any of the gods that did it. It was me."

Jason didn't flinch at the venom in his tone. A soft look of understanding on his face.

"I'm going to be a different kind of god," Percy said. "I'll be the one that listens. That watches. That protects. Not from a marble palace on Olympus- but from the ground, where I can do something about it."

Jason was quiet for a long moment, then smiled faintly. "That's exactly why I'm glad you're a god."

Percy turned to him, surprised.

"Because even if you didn't want it, you're the only one I trust to hold that kind of power. You always hated it. You never asked for it. That's what makes you worthy." Jason continues, a look Percy couldn't fully identify in his friend's eye.

"Thanks," he muttered, his voice choked and thick with emotions.

Jason reached over and clapped him on the back. "Storm and sea, we're best friends in that department, yeah?"

Percy smiled just a little.

"Yeah," he said. "We're still here."

#safe vore #pjo vore #extreme cuddling #endosoma #protective vore #vore mentioned #g/t vore #comfort vore #pjo soft vore #pred p3rcy #marshmallow

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