#possessive-prey

[doginprogress]

When Ponzi gets excited she brings me presents. Usually it’s a pillow or a toy. Today it was a blanket 🩷

[momodita]

snapshots. [—millions knives]

TAGS / WARNINGS: trigun stampede verse, no crash       au, gender neutral reader, possessive behavior,       plant mating cycles (implied aphrodisiac       effect), jealousy, implied predator/prey WC: 1,000 NOTE: buff knives save me. save me buff knives.

✗ MINORS / AGELESS / BLANK BLOGS WILL BE BLOCKED.

“What do you think of Vash.”

Knives doesn’t ask questions—he makes demands. You’ve barely set the tray with his supper down before he speaks. This side of the ship is out of range of the hull’s lights. He’s facing away from the window, but even his reflection seems to stare. The air is noticeably sweet—almost unbearably so. Like honey.

“Good evening to you, too.” The tease comes first, reflexively. His nose wrinkles, expression testy. He’s confined himself to the ship’s residential sector all day: no wonder he’s extra irritable, you didn’t hear anyone else en route to his room.

“Answer me,” he commands.

You appraise him, pausing. His clothes are loose—as casual as he’ll allow himself. He looks no less ruffled than normal, but his body is poised: the eerily motionless outline of him stark against the midnight stretch of glass.

“We’re friends? I'm sure he would say the same.” You pull words with careful truth. Since childhood, Knives has stuck to Vash like glue. Rarely are they seen apart, except the occasions they fight and when duty pulls them to different sectors.

Vash is companionable and easy to approach; the same cannot be said for his brother. Yet over the years you’ve come to consider Knives somewhat of a close friend as well.

You tell him this—cheerful despite his mood—but he merely stares, expression pinched; unsatisfied. The honeyed air is so thick, you can almost feel the crawl of it in your lungs.

“You’re hiding something,” he insists, agitated. “That’s not all, is it?” He’s losing patience. You’ve no idea what inspired these questions, what he hopes to gain from asking them. Is he perhaps envious of his brother’s wide network of friends? In no lifetime would he care for tips on getting along with people. That’s how he's always been—a far cry from his personable, people-loving brother, but no less intelligent.

Head tilting, your confusion is obvious. “…What’s with the interrogation?” If you’d known he was in the mood to scrutinize, you wouldn’t’ve volunteered to bring his dinner.

“Answer me.” He steps forward, closing the short distance between you. Instinct tells you to flee, but it’s just Knives. He’s just Knives. “I’ve seen the way you look at him. How he dotes on you.”

Vash dotes on everyone. He supplies you snacks during long shifts, he cracks jokes that make you laugh, he listens to your worries, he keeps you company in the wee hours—but he does that with everyone. He’s let you nap in his room a couple times, but it’s closer than yours and you’ve been found dozing off in the kitchens. A bed is better than the floor.

“Knives, are you alright?” He’s got all the movement and concentration of a hunting animal. The kind you’ve seen from archived media. You take an instinctive step back.

He descends upon you like a wall. The years have been kind to his height and build: he closes the distance between you in just three strides. Fear blooms, unbidden and merciless—you think he’s going to hit you. But there’s a bruising pressure around your arm, his grapple like iron as his heaving chest presses against you—into you—forcing a hasty retreat until your heel knocks the door.

The movement pushes air from your lungs, and you realize late—much too late, far too late considering who you’re dealing with—that he is the reason for this sweet aroma. It fills your nose as he aligns your bodies together, all but squishing you into the cold steel.

“Stay,” he hisses. A wide, hot palm pressing into your hip. “Tell me what you think of my brother.” The hairs on your nape stand straight as he speaks against your temple. “All of it.”

(The other crew members had seemed apprehensive. One suggested to wait for Vash so he could do it. But it’d gotten too late. There was no guarantee he’d come back. They’d been apprehensive, but maybe… maybe not for the reason you initially thought.)

“You’re not for him,” he’s saying, sounding almost delirious. “You’ll never be for him.”

“I’m not for anyone!” Alarmed by his strength—his unwillingness to release you, struggling is an easy choice. “Knives, let’s think rationally—”

“I am thinking rationally.” He looses a rough, clipped breath. Nerves splinter a fierce trail down your spine when his face presses into the length of your throat.

“You’re not.” It’s useless to admonish him in this state: he listens to nothing. Not logic, not facts, not even Rem. “Knives, let me—let me get Vash. I’ll get Vash and we can—”

The teeth are a surprise. They scrape up your throat—a ragged breath flickers down your esophagus, fingers jumping up to fist into the material of his shirt. The heat of his body is unrelenting. The saccharine smell is so violently potent. It makes your knees oddly weak.

“You’re mine.”

…What?

You nearly go limp against him—the shock saps you of any fight. He’s acted this way a handful of times before. The memories are finally resurfacing: being easily aggravated, making impossible childish demands. It happens infrequently, but on a schedule. And this syrupy fragrance… you’ve experienced it before in a diluted form: years ago, when Vash had been red-faced and forced to tell you about certain cycles—

“Knives, this smell isn’t—don’t tell me you’re—”

“You came to me willingly,” Knives breathes, rough and low. His markings begin pulsing with light. His mouth is hot and wet as it moves over your rabbiting pulse. Hungry. “You knew.”

Oh. Oh no.

“I came to deliver your food,” you protest, muffled into his chest as his arms tighten, squeezing you against him. He looses something like a growl into the dip of your shoulder, rubbing his face there. “Knives,” you plead.

Distant thundering footsteps approach. His eager fangs are sharp—they threaten to break skin. And you, for all your struggle, cannot muster the coherence to protest.

[fanofspooky]

Can you do scream queen PJ Soles? Please 🙏

Scream Queen - P.J. Soles

[lesbianoms]

Cold, scary, apathetic pred who finds herself strangely head over heels with a talkative prey she works with, so she shrinks her down to half/quarter her size and traps the prey in her belly, like an adoring owner keeping a bird locked up all pretty in a cage.

The prey goes through every emotion in the span of a few hours. She's angry, banging on the stomach walls with her small fists, yelling and hollering to be let out, before she realizes the gravity of her situation. And then she starts crying, letting out these little plaintive, heartbreaking sobs. Asking what she did to deserve this.

But to the pred, it's such sweet music. She just watches the little movements and struggles all across the round swell of her belly. She acts unusually warm towards her prisoner, like an animal in love, stroking her prey through layers of clothes and skin, poking and prodding at her beloved meal, cooing so softly.

"You alright in there, pumpkin~?" the pred asks in a velvety purr.

They prey lets out a soft whimper from inside, and the pred just chuckles and poffs a hand over the gurgly tummy.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere, sweetie. You're mine now. ❤️"

[urfavoritewriter]

Possessive Love

Content: M/F Vore, Relationship Vore, Oral Vore, Digestion

"Buuuuurp!"

The low, resonant sound echoed from Luis's lips, the aftertaste of his girlfriend still lingering on his tongue. Smacking his lips together, he ran a hand down the firm curve of his belly, feeling her gentle movements within.

"God, babe, I knew you tasted good," Luis teased, his fingers kneading into the flesh of his abdomen, "But damn, you're like a fine wine, and I just can't get enough of that taste." Another burp escaped him, bringing up the unique, sweet-salty flavor of her skin.

Luis continued to caress and rub his belly, feeling every squirm and kick. "I loved our relationship," he began, his voice dripping with mischief, "But I realized, why share you with the world when I could keep you all to myself? And I mean, all to myself." He grinned, leaning back, his distended belly rising prominently. The way it moved and twitched under his fingers was intoxicating.

A soft moan escaped his lips, a testament to just how much he was relishing every second of this. "It's fascinating, isn't it? Just a few minutes ago, you were there, in my arms, looking so beautiful and free. And now," he chuckled darkly, "you're in here, trapped, becoming one with me."

His fingers traced lazy circles around his navel, teasingly slow, as if he wanted her to feel every inch of his touch even through the layers of flesh separating them. "I'm going to enjoy every moment of it, feeling you melt and merge with me. I've always wanted you closer, babe, but I guess this is the closest we could ever get."

Each word dripped with a sensual edge, painting a vivid, intimate picture of their bond. "We were great outside, but inside... Oh, inside, it's even more intimate, don't you think?"

Another burp erupted, a longer one this time, carrying with it a more profound taste of her. "Damn, your taste is addicting," he whispered, almost to himself. "I can't believe how good you are, how perfectly you fit inside me."

Luis's eyes sparkled with a mix of love, possession, and dark satisfaction. "Our relationship just reached a new level, baby," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the taut skin of his belly. "From now on, you'll always be a part of me."

[your-fuccked-up-dad-volume61]

violent obsession is the only thing i can offer you🔪🌹

[the-black-manor]

If you sleep with your window open, then you can't complain when I creep in during the night and use you to my own ends. I pin you to the bed with my body and force my fingers into your mouth to silence you when I see your eyes widen and a scream begin to form in your throat. Don't be afraid, darling. I won't harm you. I only mean to breed you.

My eyes and sharp teeth glint in the pale light of the moon, but I'm a silhouette otherwise. You can't see who's taking advantage of you in what you thought was your safest place. I start by grinding against you, working myself up, using your body to massage my clothed cock until it's hard and throbbing, straining against my trousers. And then I'm under your covers with you in the blink of an eye, and we're both naked. My body is pressed against yours, my soft lips against your neck, peppering kisses along your pulse point and collarbone as I use my cockhead to prod at your entrance. You grab at me, nails raking down my back, trying to turn your head to get my fingers out of your mouth, but it's no use. I'm much bigger than you, darling. You're not going anywhere. You don't mind if I fuck you, right? You don't mind if I use like a toy, getting off on your warm, tight hole. You feel so good...

My cock fills you completely, stretching you almost to the point of pain, and you struggle against me harder as panic sets in. I'm inside of you, buried deep, and I'm throbbing with the need to unload. But not before I've had my way with you. I took the time and went through the effort to get in here without an invitation and I fully intend to make good use of it.

I buck my hips, setting a steady pace, hammering against your insides with each thrust of my girth, massaging all the best spots. You try and fight the pleasure that's bubbling in your core, but your body betrays you and you clench around me, earning a low growl in your ear. I nip at your pulse, and as you feel the weight of my body on top of you and my cock forcing its way inside, you realize that your struggle is folly, and fall still beneath me.

There's a good little human. The fight was fun, I'm sure, but now it's time to relax as I pleasure myself. You're not getting away from me. Just lie back and let me take care of everything. You left your widow open. You wanted this, didn't you? Oh, I'm sorry darling, I can't hear you with my fingers in your mouth. That's okay. I already know the answer.

The spring in your stomach tightens as my pace grows erratic, and it's your climax forcing you to squeeze my cock tight that finally pushes me over the edge. Your muscles contract and you curl into me as I bite down hard on your neck, my fangs piercing deep and drawing sweet crimson. You taste so good when you cum. I drink as my cock twitches and throbs, releasing thick, hot ribbons of fresh cum deep inside of you, again, and again, and again.

You start to feel dizzy and your hands fall away from my back. I pull my red lips away from your neck and nuzzle into the space where they had been as I thrust my hips once more, fucking my cum deeper, even while my climax still shakes my body and more of my seed floods into you.

I can feel your stomach swelling, pushing against mine. You feel so incredible, I just can't stop cumming, and you're squeezing with each twitch of my cock, milking me hard. Your body is drinking me up as tears run down your cheeks. There's nothing you can do now. I have claimed you for my own, made you my pet, and bred you thoroughly.

And this was only round one.

[s3xdollboy]

AAAAAAA

Not me thinking about the day my boyfriend can get his hands on me for real...

Totally not obsessing over the thought of him absolutely terrifying me and being so sickly sweet and uh "predatory"??

But like in a gentle yet threatening way the first time????

As in like- he's being gentle and saying such sweet things but it's all slightly threatening and and like he could like tear me apart whenever he wants too..

Like like im trembling despite being treated sweetly??

Like idk what's going on with me rn I feel like im going crazy- im crazy idfk I should stop thinking so much-

[pretty-starboy]

im not that tall. But I love to think of myself so tall and big that I'm towering over you. You are my prey and you make me feel so ferel. But yet you have tamed this beast. You have me muzzled and collared.

You are still so small and weak. Yet I don't want to harm you. No I'll protect you from other predators you are mine.

And I'll mark you as mine that way everyone knows it. You belong to me.

[in-fair-verona-we-set-our-scene]

I think Slay the Princess is so popular partially because the *gets stabbed* "I'm in love" reaction is both intentional on the part of the developers and then they completely follow through on it.

[every-dayiwakeup]

The way Billy acts in the Holloway house mirrors how he acted when he was around Karen in that same season.

We don't ever see teen Billy's real smile, except for when he's on the court.

This smile is relaxed and carefree.

For example, his smiles here are all fake. Forced. There's an overly polite expression he wears, and it's shown in how he talks, too.

In both cases:

his facial expressions are controlled, except they're caused by different things.

he's been put in a position where he has his autonomy stripped from him.

his eyes look like they're screaming for help.

His job and car are two things that grant him what he cannot get at his house (which would be some freedom and control of his environment/himself). Karen takes that away from him, and so does the Mind Flayer. She shows up at his work with her friends and preys on him. He drives to meet her and gets caught in another predator's web.

And after, when he's driving his car, he's no longer behind the wheel. It's his car, and he has to sit there while he's being taken control of.

[the-dread-quinn]

Wdym casual?

I want to violently eat your heart, spit my affections in your face and feed on your soul.

[fanofspooky]

Scream Queen -

P.J. Soles

Requested by anonymous

[mango-ribs]

cw: Possessive Pred

You know, many prey are teased for being nothing more than a meal, born to be food and always will be. Some even pride themselves on it, serving themselves up to any hungry predator on a silver platter.

But not you, my dear.

You are not food, you’re not prey. When I met you, you weren’t scared. You didn’t shy away even as I drooled with hunger because you knew that being an easy meal was not who you were.

Until I made it that way.

I made you into prey. You are only a meal for me, and I intend to keep it that way. You deny it and maybe weep some sweet tears, but you know deep down no-one else could do this to you like I do. On your own, you are a being - But to me you will always be just a tasty snack.

And I don’t care how many times I get to prove that to you.

[teal-fiend]

The priest had a request for an exorcism. She usually dealt with house hauntings, never a haunted person. But her new business partner assured her it would be no issue.

The priest parked in the gravel driveway of an old Victorian home. She emerged from her black cadillac, in her black robe, her dark hair braided neatly. She wore leather gloves, holding a sleek black briefcase, the only white being her clerical collar. 

She rang the doorbell once and seconds later it opened to a distraught older woman, hair frizzled from stress. She invited the priest into the home, and brought her to the parlor. The priest accepted a cup of tea, and listened to the lady’s struggles.

“It’s my son,” the old woman said, “he came home to help me clean my basement… but he wasn’t the same afterwards, I’m at my wits end, his wife refuses to see him. He’s scared his own children. Please Mother, help him. You will, won’t you?”

“Of course,” the priest said in a calming voice, like a psychotherapist. “Where is your son now?”

“He’s down there still, he hasn’t come out in days”

“Oh dear,” the priest said sympathetically. “Could I perhaps have a moment alone with him, if you don’t mind.”

—

“Hello David,” the priest said politely. David snarled at her.

“I’m sure you know why I’m here.”

‘David’ grinned maliciously. He didn’t look right, his teeth were wrong, and it seemed like he had black mould growing on him. Not healthy. 

“You think you can just get rid of me?”

The priest sighed despondent, “I haven’t had much luck in the past to be honest. I don’t know how much you demons communicate with each other, but I’ve never had a reputation as a formidable exorcist. 

David laughed at her candidness. 

The priest smiled politely, “but recently I’ve gotten some assistance.”

She patted her briefcase. The devil’s eyes flashed to it, a kind of recognition registered with them.

“It’s been a game changer, really.”

David looked a little curious, a little scared, “what’s in there?”

“I’ll show you in a minute, but first, I’d like to give you the chance to leave of your own volition.”

David stared at her humorously. “You can’t threaten me.” But there was some fear in the devils’ voice, or at least anticipation. It could tell there was something wrong. There was something off about the briefcase, but they couldn’t put their finger on it.

It was just a briefcase; sleek, black, a slight reflective shine. But it seemed to buzz with an energy, maybe it was just how the priest was talking it up, making it seem important. But whatever was in there couldn’t be all that dangerous to the devil. Salt, sage, holy water, the works. Nothing the devil couldn’t dodge.

 In fact, it planned to kill the priest soon, but it waited for her to reach over and unclasp the silver lock, and as she lifted the bag open, a shadow leapt out and knocked David back, latching onto him and leaching into his eyes and mouth, seeping in like ink. 

And that was it. David opened his eyes, appearing calmer, he licked his lips as if he had just tasted something.

“Mm, that was good.” He picked at his teeth. “You got it?” the priest asked. 

“Ah, yep, all taken care of,” he patted his stomach.

The empty briefcase lay open on the table. As it was now, empty, it looked a lot like a normal briefcase. David too looked less possessed, but that was only because this demon was better at hiding it. 

“Okay, get back in the bag.”

The demon sighed, then re-emerged, spilling out of it’s temporary host and landing on the table. It was hard to describe a shadow as being full, but it looked full. It slinked back lazily into the briefcase, and the priest closed the lid on it, pressing it down slightly so the latch would fit. 

David shook his head, “I’m back…” “Are you alright?”

“I… I think so? Is it…?” he looked at the briefcase, because it twitched like there was a struggle going on.

“Um, yes,” the priest said, “I’ve extracted the spirit from you, and I have it in here. Don’t worry, I will dispose of it properly.” She petted the suitcase, as if trying to calm it. David looked sceptical, but since he didn’t fully understand the situation, he took the priests word for it. 

“Thank you,” he breathed, bowing slightly. 

“Not at all,” she said, chipper, “Would you like to come upstairs.”

—

The older woman embraced her son when she saw him, the priest said goodbye quietly and left them to have their reunion.

She walked down the gravel drive with her suitcase - a little heavier than it was when she arrived, her arm ached slightly. 

She laid it to rest on the passenger seat of her car, placing it gently because it seemed like too much disturbance would cause it to rip open. It looked cramped, like someone had stuffed too many folders or perhaps clothing into it at once. 

She carefully put the seatbelt through the handle and buckled it in so that it wouldn’t fall into the footwell during the ride. She placed a hand on it, the leather was warm to the touch, and pliant. She rubbed back and forth soothingly and felt it grumbling under her hand. She heard too a faint, muffled, meaty gurgle inside. 

“Good job.”

[alexandrasdesires666]

“I’m going to ruin you. I’ll be your first, and I’ll fuck you so thoroughly that I’ll be your last too. You won’t want any other man after I’ve gotten my hands on you.”