My names Tom, and I’m a cc!Tommyinnit factive of @skullsnbruises these idiots. But I wanted my own blog.
While I don’t mind questions about being an alter, treat me like a fuckin’ person too.
Heads up-
I POST VORE.
If you don’t like that shit, or if you see it sexually, get the fuck out politely! Otherwise, I don’t I really have a DNI, just don’t be an asshole and we’ll get along.
#TOM TALKS text posts
#TOM ARTS visual art
#TOM WRITES fics and rambles
#TOM POLLS polls
And then fandoms will be tagged with # vore tw if vore is included. If I end up on your feed and you don’t want me there, block me!!
Nothing was right, nothing was right, why can’t it be right?!
You frowned, reorganizing the cups. Who put them out of order, out of their organization?! You looked around the cabinet for your cups, the cups you always used. But when you looked, they weren’t there. You checked the other cabinets, the other places where the cups could hide, only to find them in the sink, covered in a milky substance.
Well f—, guess you weren’t drinking anything today. You were half expecting someone to approach you and tell you to just suck it up, to get a different type of cup. But those were yours. They felt just right, they were just right, and they didn’t scare you unlike the rest of the cylindrical dishes.
Somewhere during your internal monologue you had grabbed a knife. It was a big knife. Tears crept to your eyes as you quickly put the knife back in the drawer, don’t touch the knives, never touch the knives, you can’t trust yourself with them.
You frowned, turning away from the kitchen and walking to his room. You didn’t like it.
- - -
You looked around, where was it? Where were they? The rain outside became heavier as Sapnap’s screams increased in volume. Too much. You reached out to grab your favorite sweater, the sweater you always wore, but it felt wrong, so, so wrong. You dropped it quickly, arm recoiling.
You looked at the pile of finished papers, of signed deals with different countries. And you felt no pride. Instead you felt worse. You tried to play some music, but it only made it worse, adding to the stress. You wanted to scream, to cry, to let it all out, but if you did, they would think less of you.
You reached out and grabbed your bedsheets, feeling the blankets. They felt terrible. You took a breath, knowing what to do when it got overwhelming. You walked over and turned off the lights, that always helped when you were dealing with this.
But when you went back to the bed, the blankets felt the same. You hated it. When you gripped it, you threw it across the room, choosing to fix it later. You wanted to cry.
You threw yourself on the bed, squishing the blob that Dream had given you.
“George?” You looked up, locking eyes with Dream. You jumped out of the bed, practically flying into the taller’s arms. “Hey, what’s wrong?” You shook your head, you didn’t know and you couldn’t even say anything. You just hugged tightly onto Dream in silence.
“Can I help you with anything?” Dream asked, and you nodded quickly, shrinking down. “Pocket?” You shook your head. “Stora-” He couldn’t even finish before you nodded vigorously. The speedrunner smiled as he lifted his friend carefully up into his mouth. You hated just how sticky the saliva felt against your skin, but didn’t complain as you were quickly swallowed down.
You were pushed down into your friend's organ, laying carefully against the plush walls. They felt better than your bedding.
“Don’t worry, I’ll clean up your mess.” You heard Dream speak. “M-kay.” You muttered, letting your mind ease itself into unconsciousness and serenity.
Daredevil stunt where the prey is chained/tied up and swallowed and has to escape before digesting similar to being buried alive with concrete poured over
