Just Eat 'Em

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[predatorsuggestion]

(So it’s been a while.)

(I haven’t posted in several months, but I thought I’d pop in quick to announce something I’m pretty sure most of you have figured out already: This blog is on an indefinite hiatus and I have no plans to update or interact with it in the foreseeable future.

I’m not going into a huge long spiel about why, but the basic explanation is: I started having personal problems IRL that distracted me from it, and from there, I’ll be bluntly honest, I just decided that I was tired of doing it and that it wasn’t fun to write for any more. Some of it was from basic boredom, some of it was because of pushy and / or demanding people, but most of it was just that I decided it had run its course and rather than having it become something I didn’t want it to be by keeping it going, I’d close up shop and leave.

But back to right now. I’m not deleting this blog or any of the posts on it, so feel free to like or reblog them as usual. If you want to write fics or make art inspired by any of these prompts, go ahead; if you were a regular anon or submitter and miss having a public platform for your writing, I’d strongly suggest that you try starting a scenario or suggestion blog of your own. 

I can’t truly say that I’ll never ever post here again, but at the very least I’m going to be taking a very long break from it. To the people who sent in constructive feedback, recommended this blog to others, and were generally just positive, helpful people, thank you. To the people who spammed my inbox, left annoying replies, and sent me creepy messages at 3 a.m., please enjoy this shruggy emote. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Until next time,

-D)

[predatorsuggestion]

I pin them against my stomach while I wait for my last meal to finish digesting. They pound against my body to no effect; their blows almost seem to bounce off of me. I press their head into my abdomen more firmly, giving them just enough space to breathe. They struggle and wail, trying to pry my hand off of them, trying to block their ears so they don’t hear the gurgling and whimpering of their predecessor. None of it works, and they finally collapse, still softly sobbing. We sit in relative silence until my stomach, finally empty, begins to growl. I smile down at them. They close their eyes and tense up. I bring them to my mouth and slowly, savoringly take them in. They fill my stomach perfectly; They’re too tired to fight, and curl up as my belly goes to work around them.

[predatorsuggestion]

The first time, it’s just the usual--Kicking, begging, screaming, doing everything that prey does when it realizes it’s prey. I doze off once their movements stop.

A while later, I awaken to hear something trying to sneak past me. I grab them, swallow them, then sit up groggily. It takes them a bit to start struggling, which seems odd, but I ignore it and start to go about my day. They eventually fade away like my prey always does, and again, I hear a faint skittering some time later. I crouch down, following it with slow, careful footsteps. Rounding a corner, I find... The same morsel I caught before my nap? I notice a glowing pendant around their neck, then put two and two together--The necklace must have revived them. They still haven’t seen me, and I hold my breath as they step forward. A few more moments, and they’re close enough for me to grab them. They screech in fear, then grow silent as they notice me grinning. I see the understanding spread across their features, and they scamper off when I release them. I catch them again with ease several times, watching as they grow more frantic with each round of our game. I’m in no hurry to make a meal of them.

I mean, what’s the rush? It looks like we’re going to have lots of time to get to know each other.

[predatorsuggestion]

I can still feel them shaking. I pat my stomach, trying to calm them down.

They don’t need to cry, they don’t need to be scared, they don’t need to be so upset. They can stay there until they’re ready to come back.

[predatorsuggestion]

Shh, shh. Look, you’re fine. I just need something to tide me over for a bit, okay? I’ll spit you out once I find better food.

Yes, I know it’s slimy in there. You’ll manage.

[predatorsuggestion]

I slink into their den as they sleep. How small and plump they are, breathing easily, soft head rested upon a tiny pillow of grass. I hoist them up by the ankle --Gently, so as to avoid puncturing the skin with my talons and waking them-- and lower them gradually down onto my tongue. The sensation of their body filling my mouth, encapsulated in saliva--The way they wriggle about within my throat as a push them down, as they awaken from the change in pressure--The way they squirm within my bowels, the way they fill out all the loose spaces in my abdomen, bloating me full--How I love them so very much. How sad it is when the struggle within my stomach desists, when this feistiness within my belly dismisses itself. Prey like them have yet to have given up. I know what has happened. I sigh in satisfaction and a certain brand of melancholy. If only prey like them could play forever.

[predatorsuggestion]

I toss them up, up into the air, catching them on my tongue and snapping my mouth shut. They screech indignantly as I suck on them, then grow silent as I push them backwards until they’re past the point of no return.

[predatorsuggestion]

There’s nowhere else to go. You’re cornered, and we both know how this is going to end. Crying for help is useless, because I’m the only other living thing here.

Mind if I have a taste? I’m awfully hungry.

[predatorsuggestion]

I burp contentedly, then smile as they start kicking again--They don’t like it when I remind them that they’re dinner. I rub my stomach fondly, then lean in and start to tell them what’s going to happen to them in great detail--How they’ll be squished around, slowly broken down into mush and absorbed, how they’ll be welcomed to my body, my essence, and how I’m the only person who will ever know what happened to them. There won’t be anything left over when I’m done, and eventually I’ll forget about them like all of the other morsels that became part of me.

And then they start crying. I can’t imagine why.

[predatorsuggestion]

For me, the peak is in the throat.

When my prey is fully enveloped, trapped inside the mouth, and finally, slowly pushed down to my gullet. I like to see my own flesh swell and roll. To see my body function with lazy mechanical purpose, and tuck my meal safely away where it belongs. I love the feeling when my prey squirms and strains in my throat, and know they are unable to avert their fate.

But sometimes, I like it the other way as well. I enjoy the struggle in embrace. I enjoy the squirming between my lips. And I am ecstatic when I gulp, when the meal is pushed into the throat… And the lump barely budges.

Now it’s me who squirms and strains, swallowing and swallowing at my well-earned meal, trying desperately to fit them down. Their fingers are clawing at my own fingers, on the other side of the thin wall of flesh, my hands impatiently stroking at this stubborn bulge. I throw my head back, stretch my whole taut around this troublesome morsel, one leg kicking as if the shock will loose the stubborn little prey.

Do I need to get something to drink? Shove another small one in my mouth? Do cough it up? No! I would never.

I swallow again. And then slowly, mechanically, the lump shifts. Little by little, it slides down my throat. I still gulp heavily, my body still strains and stretches. But as the meal slowly eases lower, my body relaxes at the same gentle pace. My gulps become more shallow, and my hands leave my throat, instead awaiting at their destination. My belly. I grow confident, and finally, with one last, weak gulp, satiated. I sigh a long breath of relief, and massage the fatty little meal with the heels of my palms.

For me, struggle is well worth the effort.

[predatorsuggestion]

Calm yourself, little one. I'm only holding you in there until I find some real food. If you're nice enough, I'll even share it with you.

[predatorsuggestion]

They yell and curse, fumbling wildly in my stomach as it begins to slosh and churn around them. I don’t normally feel all that bad about eating these adorable little meals, and now I can’t dig up even a scrap of guilt--I was just so hungry, and they fit perfectly into my belly. They stop struggling as the walls close in on them, curling them into a ball and preventing any further movement. They just got there, but my stomach’s already gurgling loudly. I would apologize and say that it was an emergency, but we both know that I would have done this regardless of whether I was starving or not.

[predatorsuggestion]

That sharp grunt that tinies make after a short drop when they fall into my palm, my pocket, my dessert plate.

[predatorsuggestion]

Squirm all you want, cutie. You’re going to be in there for a very long time.

[predatorsuggestion]

They beat their hands against the inside of my belly, trying as hard as they can to elicit some sort of negative response from me. It feels nice, being massaged from within like this. They give up on the struggling and go back to their earlier attempts to pry my stomach’s sphincter open. The lack of movement annoys me, and I press my hand into my abdomen, pushing the walls in around them and pinning them in place. My stomach groans loudly, reminding them that they don’t have much time left. I squish them around quite a bit, earning some louder noises and harder churning; When I let go, they’re more than ready to play again, but they don’t last long very before passing out--Apparently I overdid it. Oh well.

[predatorsuggestion]

Finally, food that admits that it’s food. They’re not happy, but there’s nothing they can do, and they know it. They’re relatively still as I lower them in, only starting slightly when my throat contracts around them. In my stomach, they get as comfortable as they can, then wait in silence for whatever I have in mind.

[predatorsuggestion]

Are you always a predator? I ask because I've never met anyone who is 100% predator, except one guy who isn't active anymore. I feel like they're extinct.

Ahh, more or less? I guess for the sake of accuracy I’d say that I’m, like, 99.999% pred. I have this recurring scenario where I’m eating and sometimes being eaten by alternate versions of me, and that’s about the only time the 00.001% of prey stuff comes in. The thought of being somebody else’s prey actually makes me kind of uncomfortable because being a pred is such a huge part of my identity and I don’t like to feel so powerless. I can’t entirely understand why my partner loves it so much, although I’m very glad that she does!

So, basically, yes, I’m always a pred, unless I’m dealing with me, in which case I am slightly more okay with being prey.