macrocondy3point0:

Spoilers: It’s a nightmare.

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(( Lots of very very good things in here, making Damara a magical girl is very dangerous 38P ))

homestuckkinkideas:

There has been many a time Jade has been shrinking down people while on the ship to go onto the planets, but gets distracted half way through, leaving tiny people to scuttle around the floor to try and get Jade’s attention.

(( Always love stuff with the shrunken lands, this is sooooooo good 0u0 ))

moddux:

Another big Dragonrezi doodle for @alt-hammer

(( Huge Dragonrezi is still a very very good concept 0u0 ))

transformationstuck:

AA : I’m going to hollow out this planet at use it to pleasure myself.

(( Never enough planetary Homestuck 0u0 ))

twitchystitch:

had some talks with @macrocondy2point0 about a giant busty pirate Vriska that raids towns for liquor, this came from that!

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The contents of an entire mine’s output, along with several others to provide the components of the resulting alloys – what else could be strong enough – had to have gone into the ship docked just outside the harbor, not so much anchored as wedged into place.

Painted light blue in a style best described as erratic, and preferably employing a good number of curses of your choice while doing so, it was not a particularly pretty ship, if ‘ship’ was even the right word. It was just too big,a towering mass of metal studded with windows and port holes, crew peeking out through them, and even more below decks; there were over a dozen levels constantly below water, and even more when the captain, who also counted as its cargo, was aboard. Whether it really was a ship depended on your definition; it was a vessel that floated on the sea and carried things, so by the most generous definitions, it might be a ship, if one so large that it was nearly bigger than the entire harbor, casting a shadow over it and bobbing ominously. Even the largest ships anchored at the harbor looked like toys beside a beast that had floundered into the tub, and a beast which currently was not smashing all the toys but with a smug sense that it could the instant it decided otherwise.

It was not particularly armed in a conventional sense; a few cannons, the sort that channeled magic for destructive shots, some of the more common gunpower-and-balls types too. These seemed there merely for the look of it, or perhaps backups. There were a lot of grapple launchers, big ones firing chains as thick around as bridge cables to grapnels that would not latch into a ship as impale its hulls and hold it down for something, or some one,to get their hands on them. Being within range of this ship was as good as letting yourself get hooked.

There were a few other notable things about this ship: the spider motifs that made up so much of its stricture, from the webbing-style walkways to the ominous figurehead, and that the gaudiness of them was practically a visual wound on its own. The ship wasn’t armored beyond being so big, with the implication that it didn’t need to be; besides, those chunks of metal hammered into spidery shapes were probably pretty fearsome defenses. Every single crew member could breathe underwater; they weren’t all seadwellers or even all trolls, but those who weren’t were modified to breath underwater, gills protruding from the bodies of all the crew, a useful feature when they tended to get swamped every day.

But most importantly, consider that a ship’s design says everything about its function. Battleships carry a lot of troops, have the armor to take a beat, and the guns to deliver far worse. Pirate ships tend to be fast and expend defense for sheer hitting power; they want to catch up with targets and hammer them. Airships are made to be light, whether they stay afloat with blimps or complex magic, and so on. This ship, on the other hand, was basically a big cargo hold, or perhaps a floating throne, every inch of its space dedicated to holding a single gigantic troll woman, its structure a testament to her size and the needs of the crew to tend to her every whim.

The captain, Vriska Serket, was currently in town, a trail of demolished buildings in her wake. Massive clawed footprints, broken metal and obliterated wood was all that was left of the buildings she hadn’t bothered to move around, and she came to this seaport so often that the people there had grown used to it and altered the streets accordingly. Some distilleries hadn’t got the message, though, and all of them close to the sea were left in ruins. Massive claw marks scraped the ground where she had ripped the buildings out of the ground, shoving them into her mouth and sucking in the contents of the distillery right through her teeth. Everyone unfortunate enough to be in the buildings was swallowed as well, but wouldn’t be digested. No one was sure why, but Vriska tended to go easy on anyone that worked with alchohol, but she’d keep them in her stomach as punishment for not giving her alcohol. They’d be coughed up later; a good number of her crew had been brought into the fold this way. Once Vriska gulped you, it was the start of a new life.

Those that had the sense to have stored away spare alcohol for the annual offering, their distilleries were left in peace. Sometimes. If she didn’t get so thirsty she lost track and ate those buildings too. At least then she paid them in treasure, so they were at worst used to it by now.

Vriska was currently tending to satisfying her thirst for alcohol, which seemed to be all she wanted to eat. The ocsionalal sea monster, enemy crew that she didn’t like the look of, entire ships, and anything that woul fit into a bottle. Granted, at her size, she drank things by the ton, not in anything as small as a bottle. Though it was full day, the town was in shadow as her gigantic body sat down hard so that outlying bits of the town wobbled ominously at the ocean. An enormous mane of beautiful hair crowned with two cruel-looking horns did not quite obscure the fact that her breasts were probably bigger than her body from the waist, her backside so large it swelled over her impressively wide hips. Every inch of her bulged out of confinement of her clothes, and for all her thoughtless gluttony, she was very beautiful indeed.

“GIMME!” She roared, voice blasting across the rooftops. A crowd numbering in the thousands watched her solemnly as official brewmeisters (a very prestigious job now that Vriska had claimed this sea as her territory) towed a massive canister filled to the brim with what they saidwas the finest liquor, but was probably just the stuff that even the dregs of the earth would be too good for. Vriska didn’t appear to notice, cheerfully lifting it up and chugging it down. Her enormously thick lips didn’t miss a drop, slurping it down with a noise like a turtle caught in a suction pump, with so much force that the huge canister was crumpled. After a moment’s thought, she ate it too, jaws stretching wide to toss it in.

The crowd applauded. Vriska raised her arms, breasts spilling out into the street and pressing against the buildings on either side. From their perspective, she looked pretty much like an obsidian-colored mass of breasts, crowned by blue hair and sapphire horns. They couldn’t see much of her face, but as far as they could tell when they could see her get up, and how far away that face was, it was really pretty. Some people got a much better look as Vriska’s mood abruptly swung another direction and she leaned forward on her own breasts, resting upon them like a mattress. Buildings leaned gently off their foundations as she pressed herself forward onto the street betwee her own cleavage, her breasts wobbling like the most attractive water mattress imaginable. “So,” she drawled in what she thought was a seductive tone, the townsfolk suddenly lurching forward in rapt hypnosis. “One of you little shits. You knowI’m hot, right~?” The seven eyes on one side of her face winked, with an edge of danger beneath; it was… unwise to give her the slightest reason to feel insecure, but satisfying her ego could be just as dangerous.

“Oh dear, oh dear,” mumbled the mayor, overlooking this from a safe distance on a nearby tower. “You promised me you wouldn’t be back for half a year!”

“I said we might,” said Eridan Ampora, Vriska’s first mate and the only person that bothered doing anything on their ship. “After we cleared out all our competitors. Was quicker than I figured.”

The mayor, who’d gained his position by ‘arranging’ things so that he had a major stake in every guild on the island and rigging the elections, was not really a bad troll. Yes, he was extremely ambitious and fiarly corrupt, but harmless in his way. He probablydidn’t deserve Vriska Serket rampaging to his town every other week, and coming back every time she didn’t loot enough alcohol to satisfy her voracious thirst.

He was a violet blood with a very warm tint to him, face encrused with so many barbels that he had a beard going down to his chest, and worked hard to look like a crusty old sailor when he had never swam more than a dozen feet out his whole life. Despite their blood being the same, he looked quite different from Eridan Ampora, a big and broad thickset figure that cut a dashing look in a wizard’s robe that had been carefully cut to look like a proper pirate’s longcoat. His abject gloominess was a far cut from Eridan’s long-suffering resignation. “What happened?” mumbled the mayor.

Eridan shrugged. “Vriska ate them all.”

The mayor winced. “Then maybe she won’t be hungry…?” he seemed hopeful.

Eridan shrugged again. “Vriska liked how most of them tasted, so she kept them on as, uh.” He made quotation shapes with his claws. “Assistants.Those ships didn’t even take the edge off her being hungry.”

“…So she’ll want more alcohol,” the mayor said gloomily.

Eridan glanced sideways. Vriska was now leaning back, parts of her body glowing with a bioluminsecent light so that she looked like a night sky alit with blue stars. The townspeople were rubbing her body; the bulges through her giant leggings, the edges of her thighs… a crowd in particular were arranged in a hasily constructed walkway around the bulging globe of her stomach, rubbing her belly to ease digestion. Others were clustered on her breasts, massaging them to her every specification. Others were crawling up her face into her lips and into her mouth, using their bodies to pleasure her in every random way. From the shapes sliding down her throat, plenty of them were going down her stomach.

“…Yep,” Eridan noted. When Vriska was frisky, she got thirsty.

The mayor noticed this. He sighed. “Can you at least convince her to let the townsfolk out of her stomach and not just take them with her?”

“Depends on how much the discount on the repairs to our ship is.”

“You cutthroat fiend!”

Eridan cackled. As the mayor groaned and tried to work out how much he’d be losing out on his daily cut, Eridan pondered whether Vriska was using her mind control on all the people here, or it was just their natural response to such a big troll body. Trolls had a certain effect on other species, of course; they saw such enormous bodies, positively shimmering with raw sexual energy, and inhibitions just shut down and they hadto submit to the troll’s desires. With his eye currently on the colonial empires making a proper mess out of the islands further east, he wondered if he could weaponize it. Make the crews give themselves up to Vriska as Vriska’s crew carved out a pirate empire straight to their homelands.

Well, Vriska already ate every single pirate crew from here to Fef’s dominion, Eridan noted. Seems like we’re practically honorary privateers or some shit.

“Gimme free access to all those trade route maps and secret current charts you like to pretend nobody knows about,” Eridan said aloud. “And maybe, just maybe, I can talk Vriska into wanting to head eastwards for better liquor and nicer-tasting enemies.”

The mayor looked pleadingly at him. True, he had made a good deal from Vriska’s appetite cutting a dent into all the pirates that used to prey on this town and those like it. But now he was the only game in town, and she played hard.

He winced; admitting to anything was an offense to his personal code of 'me first’. “I’ll think about it,” he mumbled quietly.

(( This is very good stuff and a very good concept aaaaaaaaa 38D ))

twistedtummies2:

A fatal vore story commissioned by @memes-fullfill-my-life. Features Jamil Viper as the lucky predator being fed, and a particularly unpleasant Borrower as the prey. ‘Nuff said. XD

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It was nighttime on Sage’s Island - the magical isle where both Royal Sword Academy and Night Raven College stood tall and strong. The moon shone down harshly on Night Raven, the black castle glittering like an onyx opal in the silvery shine of the great, pearly sphere. All was quiet; unusually so. The witching hour was close at hand, and the air was deathly still: all the students, it seemed, had gone to bed, and even the ghosts who haunted the Ramshackle Dorm seemed active. Nothing at all seemed alive in any given spot; from the waters of Octavinelle to the gardens of Heartslabyul, all was sleeping.

Scarabia was no exception…at first. If someone HAD been awake at that black hour, they might have picked up the tiny sound of miniscule footsteps pitter-pattering through the palatial halls of the ornate dormitory. A tiny creature - no bigger than a mouse - was still stirring, and moving…and hurrying.

Said creature dashed on soft-soled little shoes through the hall. Occasionally, they would pause, ducking behind the base of one of the small palm trees in the place to catch their breath and check their surroundings. The little one pressed their back against the back edge of the pot in which the tree was planted, nearest to the wall, where the shadows were most heavy; they sighed with some relief as the silence remained unbroken by anything but their own footfalls, breath, and beating heart.

The tiny creature was a Borrower: for any stranger among us who may not know, Borrowers are little people, who live in the homes of bigger folks, like yourself or I. They refer to themselves a Borrowers because they “borrow” things from humans and other larger beings that dwell around them. If you’ve ever lost a bobby pin, chances are it’s because a Borrower found it first and decided they could use it for something. The same goes for any time you might have dropped a small piece of food on the floor, only to find it seemed to disappear before you could pick it up; in all likelihood, a Borrower noticed it and snatched it away.

Most Borrowers are friendly; they distrust humans, but they don’t particularly dislike them. They simply don’t want to be caught in the event the people they are borrowing from are not nearly as nice as they are. Like any race of sentient beings, however, for all the good that will exist, there will be bad ones…and THIS Borrower was a bad one indeed.

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Two words to describe how I feel about this: in love!

@twistedtummies2 is back at it again with a wonderful story. I was wondering when fatal vore was gonna make a reappearance in the twst works of their page.

As this was a commission from someone I also can’t help but promote in hopes that they get paid to pump out more delicious stories! ❤️

The Beast of Bell Island part 28 - SIZEKINK .COM

Both Michelle and Ryan came running, though, eyes wild. “What are you doing!” they shouted in unison, glancing up at the sky. The helicopters could be heard, but no longer seen through the suddenly dense clouds. “What?” Jack turned. “They can’t see us.” “You don’t know that!” “According to the…

[Image picturing a sketchdump of a giant Nash in various stages of working a small human woman down his dick until she winds up in one of his balls. There’s some mututal masturbation, some internal shots, some dirty talk, and a nice little cumshot at the end.]

So Nash’s cockthroat is lined with villi that become erect when he does, helping coax prey down deep into his thick shaft and full balls (with some massaging on his part of course) and making it so that they can’t get out until he’s done with them. Yum. He doesn’t digest his prey, much preferring to watch them wiggle out of his soft dick afterwards, flushed and panting, and absolutely coated in cockdrool.

Another favorite of his is feeling his prey masturbate while snuggled up tight in his sack, being stimulated by their movement and the vibrations from their voice, until eventually their fluids mix with his, and he gets to geyser out their combined pleasure~

And here’s a doodle of his teeth - too bad he’s not a hard vore pred, those chompers would be perfect for shearing little bodies apart.

[Image showing a closeup of Nash’s mouth, with a set of teeth that are a mix of human and shark. His molars appear to be comprised of several rows of sharper teeth, while the front teeth are more typically flat. He’s smirking lecherously and wants you to hop in.]

d don’t forget folks, you can submit anonymous asks via my wordpress blog, no registration or even an email address is necessary! Have sketch requests? Questions to ask my characters? A random shitpost you want me to read? Hit me up!

[NSFW IMAGE: A big black and red mech hunched over a small human splayed out before him on a table, a dick half his size is nestled between his open legs, with globs of jizz smeared across his belly and chest. He’s covered in purple bite marks.]