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reclusiveopossum · 10 months

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In the mood to write for once. Both characters are nameless and probably won’t ever be used again.

It didn’t take long for him to catch up. I knew it wouldn’t, but I had hoped I had more time. My whole body ached, I had put all my energy into trying to get away. I don’t think he had to try much at all to walk up to me and block my path. I ran face first into his palm, and he scooped me up before I could pull away or save myself. I had just wanted a few days away. I went camping to clear my head-I didn’t sign up for this. He lifted me up to be level with his eyes, scanning over my little body, a mix of awe and something I couldn’t quite place swirling within them. I swallowed hard, and he copied me. My eyes fixated on his Adam's apple as it bobbed up and down with his swallow, terror seizing me as I started to process what was probably going to happen to me.

We had all heard the stories. I didn’t think they were real. Yet here I was, in the palm of and face to face with a giant. I didn’t know what to do. If I jumped I’d die, and if I stayed here I was sure to be torn apart between his teeth. I didn’t want to go out like this, I had so much to live for, so many things I’ve yet to do. My mouth ran dry, like all the moisture was rushing up and leaking from my eyes. That’s when he finally spoke, bringing his thumb up to brush against my back, like he was trying to comfort me. “Shh-hey, it’s okay..” he whispered, and yet his voice was still completely overwhelming. It was deep and smooth, the words slipped past his lips like honey. I would find it relaxing if it wasn’t coming from the man I assumed would soon cause my death. More painful sobs escaped me despite his attempt, and his face scrunched up, like he was hurt. I don’t know what could possibly be hurting him. He had his meal.

“Everything is gonna be alright.” He cooed, and he shifted to stand, bringing his open palm to his chest and cupping me against it. I scrambled slightly due to all the movement, but eventually I went limp again. I couldn’t fight this. I could feel his heartbeat in his chest. It thumped rhythmically beneath me and shook my body to its core. That organ alone was probably larger than my entire being.

The rest of the walk was silent other than his heart and the soft sound of his feet hitting the earth. I wanted to ask where he was taking me, why he hadn’t gotten this over with, but I didn’t have the courage to bring myself to speak, so instead I lay limp and crying against his chest as his thumb continued to caress me. Eventually the walking came to a halt, and I could hear the faint sound of a door creaking open, and shutting behind him. Oh. Did he plan on cooking me? This was sick-like some twisted children’s cartoon I couldn’t escape from. I found the strength to thrash against him, and I could feel him flinch, which I took as a victory.

He balled his hand in a fist and pulled me away from him, once again scanning over me and swallowing anxiously. My anger faded as quickly as it came as I remembered just how large he is. I was screwed. It took everything in me not to burst into tears again. He started to gnaw on his lip, moving to carefully place me on what I assumed was a coffee table, and sitting on the couch in front of it, hands placed neatly in his lap and away from me. I didn’t understand what he was doing, but I was grateful to be away from him.

For a long while we just sort of awkwardly stared, his large eyes boring into mine. I could take in all of him now, and despite knowing what he was going to do, I couldn’t say he looked threatening. He seemed as on edge as me, which was almost funny considering the circumstances. Finally I gathered the courage to speak, hands nervously tugging at the rim of my shirt. “What are you going to do to me?” I asked, voice much more shaky and quiet than I would have liked. His eyes widened a little at the question, and he furrowed his brows, scratching over his knuckles. “What?”

He sounded confused, and it made me a little angry. Did he not expect me to say anything? “What are you going to do to me?” I repeated more firmly. What do you want?” He swallowed, glancing down at his shoes and tapping them against the hardwood floor.

“Well, you saw me,” He replied after a while, his words slow, like he was thinking hard about what to say next. “And that isn’t exactly all that good. I can’t let you go now, but I..I’m not sure what to do.” He admitted, face flushed. I was dumbfounded. I managed to somehow get myself caught by the most incompetent man eater on earth.

“Well..why can’t I go home?” I asked, because staying here wasn’t something I wanted to do, and if I could somehow weasel out of this then by god I was going to.

He sucked in a sigh through his teeth, continuing to anxiously fidget in his seat on the couch. “You’ll tell other humans about me.” He said, finally looking up to meet my gaze again. “I can’t let you do that.”

“What if I promise I won’t?” I asked, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“I can’t exactly trust you’re telling the truth.” I huffed, glancing off to the side ans chewing on the inside of my cheek while I thought of an argument.

“Who cares if a few humans know about you? It’s not like we can do anything to you.” I said, finally, holding my arms out to my sides to try and emphasize my point.

“One of you can’t do anything to me.” He corrected, rubbing a hand through his hair. “A group of you can do more than you’d think. I’d rather not test my luck.”

I slumped slightly in defeat, shifting to sit criss crossed in the middle of his table, much less scared than before, but still on edge. “Then..what now? Are you going to..”

I trailed off, not having the courage to say it outright. He didn’t seem to understand though. He tilted his head in the same manner a confused dog would, and it made me snicker to myself. “To what?” He asked, and I swallowed.

“Eat me.”

He blinked, before scrunching his face up in disgust and shaking his head, like I said something completely absurd. “What? No! What on earth gave you that idea?”

My own face flushed now, and I was quick to try and defend myself, waving my hands about in front of me as I spoke. “Well in the stories that’s what you all do to captured humans, so I-“

“You believe those?”

“Well-No! I didn’t! I didn’t believe in giants either but you’re sitting right in front of me, so-“

“Alright, alright. Calm down. No, I’m not going to eat you, or whatever other morbid ideas your human stories put in your little head.”

“Then what are you going to do to me?”

The question lingered in the air for a moment before he slumped back and sighed, shrugging. “I don’t know.”

“Well…let’s try and figure it out, together.”

#they are adorable #as he just gently holds the child and panics on the inside as to what to do with them #idk what it is about the trust needed for any gt relationship to work #but it makes my brain happy #Sorry it took me so long to get to this #but it’s definitely worth reading #like I mean yes #it’s angst #but it’s also so soft and I don’t know why #Also #There’s something about your dialogue and just overall description of mannerisms that just feels very tangible

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reclusiveopossum · 10 months

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Like green I wanna see where this goes >:3c

@imnotallowedauser

This was the first one I got, but I might do more. For now, pink and green

also this is where I got most of my colors ;P

#internal #these were very interesting colors to work with #soft vore #vore art

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reclusiveopossum · 10 months

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Hi. Give me colors to draw an internal with in asks. Only non-flesh colors aloud

Or a palette. That could also be good

#wanna draw a pretty colorful belly #But I don’t know what colors #So you tell me #i need something to do with myself

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reclusiveopossum · 10 months

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I got bored so I drew ur little guy

*ABSOLUTELY CRIES BECAUSE* HOW DID I NOT SEE THIS WHAT IS HAPPENING NO

THIS HAS BEEN HERE FOR MONTHS HOW DID I MISS IT ;-;

This is so gorgeous tho- the line of motion and the dilution of color because of the water works so well. Also how are all your poses so- tangible- I think that’s the word I’m looking for. Like- idk. I can feel the current tugging his hair and tail and the leaf and it’s amazing. This is so cool and so pretty and

I’M SO SORRY I DIDN’T SEE THIS

#Jem #Jem art #phyre why are you so nice I don’t understand #I’ve done nothing to deserve squishy bean art #aeeeeaaaghh #i will explode #or melt #I’m not sure #I’m feeling combustible #also this reminded me I’m supposed to be making more nommy art of Jem #i should get around to that

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reclusiveopossum · 10 months

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Self reblogging cuz, shocker, when you hiatus a story for three months your audience tends to lose interest and go down considerably eheh-

Sagebrush - Part 7

Welp. I unlocked more motivation and just finished. It’s been over three months since the last update and I’ve written and rewritten bits of this chapter so many times but I’m finally marginally happy with it. I do apologize if it reads sort of choppy for that reason and I also feel like the area I most struggled in was getting dialogue to sound the way it should, so honestly just expect that to be a bit off. I’m sincerely sorry for the wait, I just hope it's not that bad.

CW: death of a pronghorn via gun, ponderance of said death, blood and what I suppose could count as mild gore, feral prey i guess, but I don’t really consider what’s in this chapter to be noms, bullet wound

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Nuzzling into the softness pressed against my face, I sighed, curling a bit closer around the small body sprawled limply beside me. The tangible heat it gave off was strange but nowhere near unwelcome and I just sort of spilled over it, letting my brain begin to slip back into sleep. That is until I inhaled some of the fur, breath stuttering into a sneeze I barely had time to muffle with a hand as spatters of chromatic information hit the front of my brain. The fur was hair, the hair belonged to a person, that person was Sawyer, and I had apparently rolled over at some point in the night to quite literally spoon around him. All of this still glittered around the edges with a rainbow sleep haze, but it fell into place well enough. I sniffed, rubbing my nose and regarding his sleeping form a bit apprehensively. I sincerely hoped he hadn’t been awake to know. . .

The first night, I’d practically pinned him down to make sure he didn’t run, but my intention this past night was to give him at least some space. All afternoon, he’d flinched nearly every time I’d so much as moved a hand around him; I couldn’t imagine he’d be too inclined to cuddle up with me and I’d known that. He was processing the fact that by all human standards, he’d been eaten alive and should be dead now. I didn’t blame him for being jumpy or wanting to keep his distance.

I slid my arm gingerly out from under him in order to sit up, drawing back and pressing the heel of my hand into my injured shoulder as I dragged my gaze from the human to assess the camp instead. After disentangling my tail from his now curled frame, I bent to peer at the white ash that was all that remained of our fire, poking at it with a stick and kneading it over until I unearthed a few faintly glowing embers. Still painstakingly quiet, I began gathering twigs with which to rebuild the flame in order to warm the remaining quail, mind drifting in the silence. Why couldn’t I just let him go. . . my life had been so much simpler on my own, so why. . . Yes, he reminded me of him, but the thing was, he wasn’t him and I knew that, so why was it so hard to just be logical, eat him for real, and move on?

The next few days offered no answer to this question and I only found myself growing more attached as the fear he had of me began to thin. He changed my bandages. I reapplied denta leaves to his cheek and he actually let me touch him; prop him in my lap and press the poultice into the wound without flinching or pulling back, just sitting there patiently. Even before I’d stored him, although forced to tolerate it, he’d been very wary of my touching him, and it felt good somehow.

Though none of this was remotely helpful in convincing myself to get it over with and kill him.

It had been just shy of a week since the night I found Sawyer when a herd of two dozen or so pronghorn wandered into the vast dip in the land we’d made camp in the night before. The human was sitting with his back against my bag, shaving away at a small, rather belligerent piece of wood with the knife I’d lent him. Under close supervision of course, and taken away at night. What he was making, I had no clue, and he refused to tell me, but as long as it kept him occupied, I didn’t exactly mind. He was drawn into it enough that he didn’t seem to have even taken notice of the gathering herd of antelope quarter of a mile off, grazing against the scruffy vegetation.

I watched them silently for a few moments, ears quivering slightly, before dropping beside Sawyer, eye glittering with something perilously close to playfulness.

He glanced suspiciously sideways at me, one brow arching. “What do you want?” The volume to his bored monotone was enough that I peered over my shoulder to check whether he’d been heard, but the antelope seemed relatively unperturbed. Sawyer, however, who had followed my gaze, looked back at me with bared curiosity, his mask of indifference dropping for a brief few moments. “What are they?”

Grinning faintly, I edged a bit closer, voice still low. “Food.” I rested my chin on one hand, letting my head tip sideways slightly. “You wanna come? You could cut whatever you want off before I eat the rest,”

His gaze flickered back to them, then to me again, nose wrinkling with a frown as he whispered back, seeming to have caught on. “I- I don’t know how to dress a deer-”

I shrugged, tail coiling absently. “Well I certainly don’t- we’ll figure it out. Or you can just stay here, up to you,” Whether it was because I was afraid of what might happen if I left him unsupervised again, or because I simply wanted him with me, I didn’t know, and really, it was just as bad either way. But there was no one but myself here to tell me otherwise, so I might as well savor it while I could.

As uncertain as he still seemed, he set down the oddly shapen lump of wood in his hand and curled his legs up under him the way he often did before standing. “Alright fine, but don’t blame me if I mess up the meat or something.”

My ears flicked up in spite of myself, but I hastily flattened them again, tipping my nose up. “And what’re you gonna do about it if I do?”

He just squinted back at me, deadpan, getting carefully to his feet, slipping the knife into his belt, and turning to study the spindle legged creatures making their slow progression across the steppe.

Straightening now myself, taking this as confirmation he was ready to leave, I turned to start across the field, glancing back just to ensure he was following.

The human’s forehead creased as he cast about for something, his head finally coming back up to frown at me questioningly. “Don’t you need the gun?”

I smiled slightly, unsure of what he meant. “I wasn’t planning on needing it, why?” Was he scared? Or was he planning to grab it off me and try to shoot me with it. . . I wasn’t sure honestly.

“B’cause I highly doubt I’m s’posed to eat something full of venom and I’m not really in the mood to test that out.” He inclined his head in a sort of placatory gesture.

But he was right; he probably shouldn’t be ingesting meat imbued with rattlesnake venom. I waved a dismissive hand at him, nodding. “Yeah, go ahead, you can bring it.”

I watched him visibly hesitate, gaze darting from me to the rifle leaned against my bag and back. The question he was asking wasn’t hard to guess, but it had been intended.

“C’mon, if you want it, you can carry it. We should go before the get too far.”

He was still obviously unsure if he was actually meant to, but he scooped up the firearm nonetheless, holding it to his side.

This way, if he tried to shoot me, I’d have no choice but to kill him, if he succeeded in killing me first, then he deserved to live, and if he didn’t even try. . . well, then I was still in the same, uncertain place that I had been for nearly a week now. And if I were honest, I was hoping for the latter, even if I knew I shouldn’t.

I could almost feel the jagged question pressing out from him in desperate spikes, he just adjusting and readjusting his grip on the gun and raised his eyebrows at me, voice surprisingly level when he spoke. “We gonna go before the hear us and run?”

Nodding, I tugged myself from the coil I’d reverted to and started across the curved earth, scenting the air every now and then to ensure he was still there.

If he were any other human- of his species anyway- I wouldn’t have even suggested he tag along; they were all far too loud, sure they owned the land and that it would bow down to them because they told it to. Sawyer, on the other hand, was surprisingly quiet; light footsteps trailed a yard or two to my left, even in the dry foliage against was barely a faint shuffle, nearly drowned out by hiss of my own scales against the earth.

Seven, maybe ten minutes later, I ducked behind the rather large sandstone boulder I’d been aiming for, maybe thirty feet from the unsuspecting herd of pronghorns, Sawyer stooping beside me. I slid my bag gingerly from my back, lowering it slowly to the ground in order to fish out the powder sac and hold it out to the human who, yet again, hesitated, locking eyes with me for a brief moment before scooping it up.

I caught his wrist before he could slide the ramrod out though, mouthing, “Not yet.” in an over enunciated, voiceless breath.

He nodded, but tipped his chin in the vague direction of the deer, eyebrows raised.

A faint smile drew over my face and I raised a finger to my lips before turning to peer inches over the rock just to ensure I had a good idea of the land before curving my tail out from behind the rock. Keeping the end carefully still as I slowly let the length of my body sprawl out over the stubbly earth, one hand pressed into the stone until finally, I stilled, only my ears twitching to catch the faint sound of grass blades being severed as the antelope ate. I exhaled, edged forward ever so slightly, muscles tensed to spring, and let the end of my tail vibrate in the reflexive rattle it was made for. There was a brief pause, then the ground beneath us trembled faintly with the pound of bounding, frantic hooves, and I coiled my tail back up behind me.

My hand went out almost subconsciously to shield Sawyer while they thundered closer and I leaned forward, the first few breaking past before I had time to react, veering away from the rock with air spiraling tangibly off their galloping bodies as they ran. I flexed the muscles in my tail, locking on a single loping deer speeding toward us and waiting for the precise, calculated moment before I shot forward, reminding myself midway through in a flash half splintered thought that I couldn’t bite it. Instead slamming into it hands first, careful not to sink my claws into it to avoid causing more pain than was necessary. Grass tore up from its roots beneath us as we skidded and the antelope bleated in some mix of surprise and terror. The herd split off around me in a blur of movement I couldn’t afford to focus on; only the one trapped beneath my hands mattered now, trying in desperation to kick out at me and whaling as though clinging to the hope that one of its kin would come back for it. I eased some of my weight onto its legs to keep it from hurting itself, gently pinning its head so it would stop flailing. “Sawyer- c’mon, the gun, it’s scared-”

One ear flicked back at the sound of him pounding the ramrod in over and over, his panting mingling with the labored breathing of the creature beneath me. “I’m- working on it.”

Dark, frightened eyes fixed on mine, soft brown ears laced back, its nose twitching furiously. I could always break its neck, but that was never a perfect process and I’d like to make it as clean as possible.

But Sawyer’s shadow fell over my side before I broke and gave in to such measures. He paused, seeming to study the top of the thing’s head, gaze seeming to trace deliberate lines, then pressed the muzzle of the gun several inches above its eyes, exhailed, and the valley rang with the crack that followed, spreading out and ricochetting back.

Sticky warmth clung to the sleeve of my coat and the hand I’d shifted to the now lifeless neck of the deer.

Sawyer’s breaths came shallow, and I raised my head to look at him, his lips slightly parted, gazing down at the creature lying quiet in the heather. The life that was there seconds ago pressed from its frame to leave it silent, prone, so so vulnerable.

No, it wasn’t new, and no I wouldn’t forsake meat simply because of it, but ending the innocent life of something this beautiful always effected me far more than any of Sawyer’s kind ever would. They had hurt people, there was justification in killing them, they were the reason he was gone and there was no sense in holding back. But this graceful, blameless creature was different.

“You have the knife?” My voice was low; almost gentle.

He nodded simply, hand snapping to his hip and sliding the blade from his belt, stepping around to kneel adjacent from me. For not knowing how to dress a deer, he hesitated very little before carving into its thigh.

I sat back to watch him, quiet while he worked and only speaking when he was finished, hands dark with blood. “There’s a drawstring sac in my bag you c’n put that in to keep the flies out until we can cook it. I’ll- I’ll finish while you’re over there since I doubt you wanna um. . .”

His face visibly blanched several shades and he stood hastily, holding the dripping, rough edged piece of flesh out from his body in an effort that I assumed was to avoid staining anymore of his clothes than he already had. Bending to retrieve the the riffle, he skirted past me. “Hollar when you’re done, alright?”

I nodded and once I’d watched to ensure he had reached the rocks, I took the pronghorn’s hind legs in my mouth and swallowed deeply.

It only took five or six minutes to work the whole deer down, and I was sat back with the front hooves slipping into my chest cavity, waiting for it to reach my stomach before rejoining Sawyer for his sake at the very least. The hunt had gone well, I was sure the herd had found each other again by now, and I was relatively relaxed.

So the pain that exploded through the right side of my abdomen, seering through my back, deep into me, knocked me sideways. I was vulnerable while eating anyway, but my guard had been entirely lowered. I’d been defenseless, unsuspecting, and now-

Somehow I’d ended up on the ground, sprawled on my side, mouth open as I struggled for air I couldn’t breathe. The deer felt stuck, lodged where it was and I couldn’t breathe.

The resounding sound of gunfire only registered in my brain moments later, rippling through my thoughts over and over.

Until finally, it settled frigidly into place. He’d done it. I’d forgone proper precautions and he’d taken his chance while he could. Sawyer had shot me and if I didn’t die here, I would have to kill him.

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- most venoms are generally nontoxic if ingested and would only cause damage if you had an ulcer or tear somewhere. So both of them are wrong. the only reason Dally doesn't know is because they don't generally share their food with humans, so. though I doubt he'd take that chance anyway; Sawyer Is Not Allowed To Die - pronghorn don't actually qualify as antelope both because they shed and regrow their horns and because true antelope only exist in Africa, Asia, and the Middle East. They aren't quite deer either. They are, in fact, most closely related to giraffes and okapi.

<- Part 6

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#morning reblog

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