voreischill

[voreischill]

Would Ali ever betray Sangwoo?

I don't think so, Ali is a good boy who does everything SangWoo says. If he said to eat the whole two players, he has to do it.

[voreischill]

light sleeper prey and a pred that forgets that

[Pred is somewhere with super loud music]

"...hm?...wh-where are we?"

[the soft voice from his awakened prey makes him jump, he quickly slinks to a quiet corner of the room]

"hey uh...sorry, we're at that club"

"but-...nvm...can you just spit me out outside? im pretty sure i can walk home-"

[his abdominal muscles contract around the prey, but they relent very fast]

"no!...i mean...god that sounded..."

[he gently rubs his belly]

"i know it's probably weird to say...but i don't really wanna let you go...i mean if you insisted i'd probably let you but...how about i just go to a quiet bar"

"i don't want you to miss out on your fun...i know you really like this place"

"yeah...well the pred part of my brain is so amped up rn i can't think about puking you up...so i'm gonna go the quiet bar, go back to sleep"

"okie..."

minors dni

[voreischill]

flesh-manipulator prey sitting on your lap, caressing your body, and verbally guiding you through the discomfort as he uses his innate magic to contort your body into the perfect form to consume him

his hands push against the middle of your chest, as your esophagus stretching and your ribs become more flexible

he kisses you on the mouth as the tendons of your jaw contort just enough that he's be able to slide past them

his thighs squeeze your belly as the skin becomes stretchier

all the while he's gently cooing to you "good boy," "just breath for me," "you're gonna be such a good pred~"

minors dni

[voreischill]

Another Unbirth thing

[voreischill]

First time posting a writing...

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Content: Semi-unwilling pred, multiple prey, size difference (prey are like palm sized), safe vore, soft vore, very willing prey

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All Michael wants is to get out of here. Distract his mind from the hurricane that's having it's way in his head. The dread, the fear, the anxiety that eats away at his skin.

Maybe that's why he decided to go tramping aimlessly into the woods. No one around to hate him. No one around to fear the judgement of. He knows he'll be fine. To get back, all he has to do is follow the quiet until it breaks away into the noise of the city. But that's for later. Much later. These woods are better than trying to ignore the smell of people everywhere, of his friends, of his family. Just grass and leaves as far as the eye can see. The lingering scents of animals, leaving their marks in the underbrush. And… something… sweet? The air tastes almost like fruit, yet he sees none around. If there was an orchard nearby, he'd know, right? There'd be a massive farmer's market in town or something.

Michael stops and looks up. There's a trail of small winking lights floating among the branches. They almost remind him of fireflies. The presence of those same bugs might be why he didn't register these at first. He reaches up and pokes one. It sparkles, bursting into motes of light that slowly dissolve into the air.

Curious, he follows the lights. Up ahead he can hear sparking pops, rushing water, and soft hisses of indistinct noise. The fruit-like smell grows stronger. The air feels thicker, thrumming with some substance he can't identify. He decides to think of it like a confusing alien humidity. As he pushes himself through a wall of bushes, he blinks at the sight in front of him.

It's… a party? Seemingly random objects crowd the place (giant mushrooms, sure, but why is there a brand-new sofa here?) and even more of those lights illuminate the area. It's like a star-filled sky, flooded with sparkling lights that are replaced as quickly as they wink out. Blurs of color and light move around the area. A buzz of movement fills his ears– like insect wings, like a whistling breeze, like rustling leaves. At first he wonders where the people are. Only once he focuses on the blurs do they start looking like definite forms to him. Small people, decked with– no, embedded with crystals.

The pit in his stomach grows deeper at the realization. Then it itches at his insides, insisting he stop ignoring it. He wanted to get away from people. Yet here he is, ending up in a throng of them. Maybe that's on him. Being stupid and following what was probably magical lanterns for fairies or something.

He backs up, trying to retreat to the other side of the bushes. The fragile branches snap around his arms.

"Hey!" Someone shouts, and he hopes that it's not directed at him. Then that someone flies into his vision, promptly dashing that hope. "You busy?"

"What?" Michael asks.

"I said, are you busy?" The fairy repeats, hovering in front of his face.

"I, uh. No. Why do you ask?"

"Great!" The fairy claps their hands together, beaming. "We need some variety over here. Make some requests, get crazy! Wishes, if you insist on it. We've got mana to burn."

"I'm…" He glances past them, into the thick of the gathering. Some faces have turned towards him. If he's leaving, it's not going to be unnoticed. Or unjudged.

"Sorry, I don't know what this is about. I don't want to intrude on your, uh, party?"

The fairy gives him an odd look. "It's a casting festival. We've been running out of ideas and we still have mox-ridden to take care of. So come on! Get in here, sit down."

That clears up next to nothing, but Michael nods like he understands. What he expected was a demand for why he's there, or maybe a yell for him to leave. Not… this.

"Um, okay." He never was good at speaking. He's not sure if this will be any different. Michael clumsily extricates himself from the bush, bringing plenty of leaves with him.

"Go, go!" A new voice shouts. He can feel the press of attention on him, of much smaller eyes following his comparatively giant self. The idea of standing feels nauseating. At least that confusingly pristine couch will come into use. He sits.

Michael picks a leaf out of his air.

"Allow me." Yet another stranger comes near him, waving their good arm. The other is stiff, composed entirely of gem. Or encrusted with it? He's not sure. Before Michael can figure that out, all the broken twigs and leaves in his hair transform into butterflies, fluttering away.

"Ah." He states. There's movement behind him, and the pressure of being watched is now crushing. God. These people are, what, palm-sized? Smaller? He doesn't know. Because he's not focusing on that. Definitely. Most certainly not. But there's a bunch behind his head on the back of the couch now aren't they. Why are they there. He's boring he's not interesting.

Something hisses, and he decides to ignore the basket of rubber snakes someone just manifested.

"You don't talk much, do you?" The first stranger says. Michael isn't sure when they followed him, or if they were there all along. He just sort of shakes his head, feeling too sick to speak.

"Hey, wait." The crystal-ridden fairy gestures out their good arm, holding a hand out. "Hold up your hand."

Confused and too afraid to say no, he does so. They press their hand against his finger, thoughtful.

"Oh, this is perfect. You drain magic!"

"Uh. I– sorry. I don't, I don't think I can make it stop. Is that… is that gonna be a problem?" He asks despite knowing the answer is yes.

"Not at all!" The fairy laughs at him, and there's tittering behind his head. The fear of why they're laughing drowns out the actual words.

"I've got an excellent idea. You're a vampire, aren't you?"

"You can tell that fast?" He asks.

"Not many things can be mana sinks and alive beings." The fairy pauses. "Technically alive."

Before he can ask what being a vampire has to do with anything, another voice pipes up.

"Eat us!"

Alarmed, Michael spins around to stare at the miniature crowd behind him. "Huh??"

There's a chorus of agreement, of laughter, and beaming smiles. He starts to wonder if his hunger is making him delusional.

"Look!" The same voice cries, now identified as belonging to glowing blue fairy. "This is a golden opportunity. We need to burn mana, you need to absorb energy. It's an easy solution!"

"But why– why eating? Isn't that dangerous for you?"

"Psht," A green fairy scoffs, "We could get out even if wanted to stop us."

"Are… are you sure? If you get out with magic, and I'm… taking it…?"

"Just one of us has way more mana than you could ever take at once. And guess what! You take it best through eating, which is why that's the only way it'll actually make a difference." At this point he isn't sure who's speaking. They're all strangers to him, overwhelming and bright. The constant switching is making his head spin.

"Look," A brash voice says, "We’re basically doing you a favor.”

Something pokes his belly, and Michael reflectively swats at the offending person. They easily flit backwards out of reach, giggling at him.

“I’m–”

“Come on!”

“I…” Michael glances away, frighteningly aware of the gathering crowd around him. He clutches his shirt, pressing his fist into his middle. A rumble teases him in return. They'll be fine. They'll be fine? And he. He doesn't think he can get out of this situation anyway. He'd been desperate to avoid his friends and their insisting, but this is astronomically worse. The anxiety and the hunger alike dig at his insides. "Okay."

There's a pregnant pause.

"Open up, then!" Someone shouts. Admonished, Michael opens his mouth, displaying his fangs and empty throat. All of a sudden there's a taste on his tongue. A slight weight presses against it, and wings tickle against the roof of his mouth. He flinches, snapping his jaws shut and reflexively swallowing to rid himself of the feeling. Something wriggles down his throat in surprise.

He looks down at his stomach in a panic.

“Shit! Shit, I'm sorry, you– I didn’t mean to throw you down so fast–”

“Forget that! It’s my turn!” Another fairy presses tiny hands against his lips.

“Uh–?” The moment his mouth opens, they push inside, kicking their legs against his teeth to propel themselves down his throat. In that moment, he’s grateful he no longer has a gag reflex. He swallows, and their lemony taste slips past his tongue along with them. Michael doesn't know if he should be glad for or dreadful of the rapid pace.

His stomach seems to have no opinion one way or the other, merely growling at the prospect of being fed. There's a tittering of excitement around him.

Another approaches, face eager. He hesitates, but opens up his mouth for them. God, another. How many will there be? He hasn't bothered to count the amount around him, but he hopes it's not all of them. The way his gut gurgles implies disagreement.

Someone touches his middle again, and he gently waves them away. He can't speak, not with the current fairy deciding to take their time searching his mouth. His tongue twitches, and it's with great chagrin he realizes he's drooling. They taste like sugar. Artificial fruit. They push forward, and Michael takes that as a sign to swallow. He can feel the warmth of energy slip past his throat, moving deeper inside him. It collects in his stomach. He doesn't dare look down at it.

Even as that someone tries to touch him again.

"What are you doing?" He snaps, unable to help it.

"I want to see if I can feel anyone from out here," They say, perturbed.

"Well– just don't. If you want to touch anything, do it from inside." Even as he says them, Michael regrets the words.

"You hear that? You're next!"

"That's not what I–" He stammers, trying to correct the assumption, but they're already staring up at him with such big, desperate eyes. The noise dies in his throat. How is he supposed to deal with a look like that? Michael sighs and opens his mouth. The fairy, eager as the rest, dives in. It's some small relief that he can't choke. He swallows, pressing fingers against his lips. The taste of their skin lingers, crystalline and sweet. The movement of their small body disappears inside him.

That's what he wants to think, anyway. In reality, he can feel squirming inside his gut. Small pressures that he can feel for moments, only for his stomach to disguise the sensation with a deep growl. Hunger still itches at him. The edge has been weaned off, dulled. But he doesn't feel full. Doesn't feel satiated. As much as he hates to admit it, this crowd might be right. They're kind of doing him a favor. Instead of going home and starving, hoping he won't do anything…

With an uncertain sort of confidence, he holds his tongue out. Michael doesn't even see this one, only knows they're in his mouth. He draws his mouth closed, and– oh, no, okay, a second has decided to clamber in. Michael hums in protest. With his tongue he presses one against the inside of his cheek, swallowing one at a time. There's a little bit of a rhythm now.

The way they slide down his throat. His stomach squirms, and he grimaces. The sensation is foreign, and he can't tell if the movement makes him feel sick or thrilled. That's a pretty consistent doubt, though. Not knowing if he's happy or disgusted by the situation at hand.

"Me next! Me next!"

"One second…" he pauses, taking a deep breath. How many has he eaten? He hasn't been counting, but it feels like far too many. Not enough. He wonders whether he'll be able to fit all of the fairies that flutter around his head. They stare expectantly at him, hover above his shoulders, lower in front of his stomach. Is it sticking against his shirt now? Now that he looks at it, he can see it glowing with a handful of different colors. They flicker and move through his skin.

"Right."

Michael's stomach growls again. At the end of this, he's going to be stuffed…

[voreischill]

And more vore, with different characters! Got to try some extra details for this one~

[voreischill]

Preds with bad joints (me) having to wear knee braces to be able to stay upright after eating prey.

Preds with anxiety (also me) who constantly worry about random things. Like, if the pred bumps their belly on a table, will that make their stomach stop working? What if one day they just pop open like a balloon?? Frightening times all the time.

Preds who have sleep issues (again, me) who cant sleep when their prey is still squirming.

Or the exact opposite, where the pred neeeddds prey to be squirming inside them to sleep properly.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk.

disabled preds.

preds in wheel chairs who had to make some adjustments to the wheels to support the weight of prey

preds with lots of chronic fatigue who sometimes don’t have the spoons to hunt as normal

preds with walkers who have to figure out how to hold them to walk with prey in their bellies

press with canes who find it handy to have something to support the extra weight with

autistic preds who infodump to their prey or are unaware that they’re not hungry for cereal and in fact are experiencing the prey drive type of hunger.

preds on adhd meds who can’t hunt while meds are working because they have no urge to eat, and also get distracted while hunting by random stuff they like

preds with chronic pain having to find alternative ways to hunt to accommodate themselves.

preds with a disorder/illness that kinda acts up when they haven’t eaten/have too many prey kickin around

shout out to my fellow disabled preds, yall are under appreciated, pls add on anything else as needed.

[voreischill]

if you “”make”” AI generated kink art you’re such a loser. true fetish work comes from the soul and the AI can’t be horny while making it so it means nothing.

[voreischill]

Squid game just dropped in my freetime

[voreischill]

Pred fattening up their prey via stuffing said prey with more, slightly smaller, prey.

[voreischill]

smoothing down

[voreischill]

I have started working on my animation skills.

[voreischill]

Thinking about healing stomachs, and the idea of injured prey being like crack for preds with those stomachs.

Imagine a pred who’s normally just a sweetheart, always trying to help people and is just an all around good guy, but there happens to be a prey with some type of injury like a broken arm or something around them, and this pred just can’t help sneaking glances at them, licking their lips, and thinking about eating them, though they try to hold themselves back to not scare the prey or cause any issues.

Eventually the pred can’t take it anymore and ends up eating the prey after getting them both alone.

It’s jarring to both the prey and predator, the prey being shocked at being suddenly eaten of course. While the pred is shocked that they would even do this, especially because of how much they’ve pushed themselves to avoid it.

Despite the prey not being in danger, the pred desperately wants to get the them out because they know they’re scaring this person, yet they just can’t. No matter how much they try, how much they want to, they just can’t bring themselves to release their new meal.

They’re broken. They need to be fixed. So the pred will keep them until they’re fixed.

The pred hates that they’re doing this, keeping someone against their will like this, but they’re technically doing something good for them, right? Their arm will be fixed! They don’t need to let them out, in fact, they shouldn’t. They can be let out when they’re healthy. Just ignore them for now…

[voreischill]

do u do vore rps?

I dont know. I dont honestly role play almost ever, so I am not all too good at it. But I would be open to trying it if someones patient enough.

[voreischill]

I love the idea of saliva that stings because it’s part of the beginning of the digestion process. not actually how saliva works but I can dream. Especially if the stinging indicates an intent to digest from the pred. maybe you didn’t know before you let me get so close, but now you definitely do, and I sure as hell am not gonna let you escape now. No matter how hard you fight

[voreischill]

whats ur favorite kind of vore?

Depends on what you mean by, kind of vore.

If you mean in reference to oral vs. others, then oral and unbirth are my two favorites.

If you mean vore tropes, then unwilling pred x any willing prey x observer who is practically shoving the prey down the preds throat is a wonderful trope. Another trope I love is annoyed pred x gleefully happy prey.

😊

[voreischill]