Im Not Exactly At A Good Time To Repost My Movie Sonic Vore Story From Wattpad, But I Will Once I Get

I’m not exactly at a good time to repost my Movie Sonic vore story from Wattpad, but I will once I get time today.

Also, just for my constructive criticism and improvement, why do you all love the Peanut Butter Toast incident so much?

The Peanut Butter Toast Incident (Miles Morales Unaware Vore)

I never promised I was posting these stories in order, mostly because the next story in the chronological order has 4 parts and I’m conflicted on sharing in parts as written or all in one piece. This was the first story I got a request for, and to my knowledge the first Miles Morales vore fic. This does contain unaware vore of a teenager, so be aware that’s below the cut. Enjoy! Or don’t, just please don’t burn me at the stake. I’ve got work tomorrow lol.

(We will say this takes place bedore the second one but after the first. Also Y/N for flavor points (which means your name). I know he has a roommate, but oh well. A Marvel plot with this plot was suggested by nickyjel123, and I figured I’d use my own Marvel pred “crush” [idk the term for preferred pred in a non-sexual way if there is one])

A normal morning in a dorm is, as you’d expect, usually plain and consists of mundane tasks one does to prepare themselves for a long, monotonous day of school work. Things like getting dressed, brushing teeth, preparing one’s backpack, making coffee in the communal kitchen or some cereal if you’re a baller. This is done with a level of grog often from bad sleep. For Miles Morales, this was that morning. Upon unceremoniously popping open his eyes due to a loud alarm and slowly stretching and making his way out of the bottom bunk, he began to get dressed in uniform, a typical suit that made him even more tired. Slowly, he lifted his pants onto his waist, weaved his black, slightly cracked leather belt through, and buttoned way too many buttons. Checking himself in the mirror, he had bags under his eyes from a study-filled night previously and his hair was somewhat greasy, although today Miles couldn’t be bothered to rectify his uncleanliness with anything but layers of deodorant and a spritz of gel. This was his appearance as he went through the door and towards the communal kitchen.

For Y/N though, this would be a morning that would live in infamy for its lack of luck and sheer stupidity that could rival certain programs on children’s cartoon programming. Upon awakening, Y/N popped up and slammed their head against the ceiling, causing a red circular mark to appear on their forehead. This awoke the folks in the dorm above them, who of all people were the worst ones to deal with. The particular gentleman involved in the forthcoming drama has chosen to remain anonymous, but shall henceforth be referred to by a fake name: Buford.

Buford was a STEM student pursuing the highest level of education offered at Brooklyn Visions Academy and in several of the same classes as Miles. Buford, however, was a rougher personality from old money who was not fond of Miles, but more importantly hated Y/N due to their pursuing of art and their more effeminate personality. He would often call Y/N names in passing or would steal their things and destroy them. This time though, he was in the mood to make Y/N’s day so much worse. See, his brother had created a device that could reduce matter to a fraction of its size, effectively shrinking it. Due to the nature of atoms, this effect would be temporary and last for a time that hasn’t quite been measured, but was less than 12 hours based on testimony.

This device was Buford’s way of payback: to shrink them so that hopefully they’d end up getting into hjinx. See, he doubted Y/N could be actually killed; the increased density of the atoms made the recipient of the shrinking much more resilient to things like falls or being stepped on. It would just suck and scare Y/N some. So, Buford set his action into plan and shot an orb into the floor vent, as the bouncing would inevitably lead to it reaching Y/N’s bed. The orb made a loud electric banging sound with each bounce, bouncing faster until it eventually sunk down the vent and directly onto Y/N’s sore head, making a splatting sound as it was absorbed into their hair follicles.

At first, Y/N found this to be an annoyance, slightly peeved that Buford had, at least in their mind, shot them with some sort of pellet. As they made his way to the ladder, they thought it might be a couple inches taller, but chalked it up to their grogginess and near-concussion a few moments prior. However, as they descended the ladder, they found that each step was farther away from their foot, until they had to leap off the bottom of the ladder. At this precise moment, they took a deep look around and started realizing what exactly was happening to them: shrinking, and at a pretty good rate. They noticed the details of the carpet become finer and finer, and eventually decently sized until each little follicle was up to their waist. Thankfully, their oversized shirt and pajamas had been afflicted by this orb’s atom reduction as well due to complicated things that we aren’t going to bother explaining because any attempt to do so would be so far off from logic, it would be a disservice to us and you.

As you’d expect when someone who’s usually decent height becomes a few inches tall, fear gripped their heart like a snapping turtle: unceasing and hard. At this moment, Y/N had nothing: no aid, no way to call for help, no method of finding anyone, and not much vocal power to even try. Some other factors included the fact that it was cleaning day, so someone would be in to vacuum them up, as well as it was a school day, so if they didn’t get help soon, they’d have to wait until 4, or later if Miles didn’t come back, as was a trend.

A trend that didn’t offer Y/N too many favors. Miles was pretty good at art, but Y/N couldn’t get pointers on theirs for often several days at a time. Typical schoolwork was not our protagonist’s strongest still, which made things even worse when help vanished from the dorm. They often had to find someone else to help them, which tended to be people who didn’t exactly know what they were teaching either.

However, it was the morning, and they knew that Miles would be eating peanut butter toast in the kitchen for an amount of time as he would often talk with a friend or two. If Y/N could make it over in time, they could get help. As quick as they could (which was honestly not bad pace), they ran off to the dorm commons.

Miles got distracted in the communal kitchen for a minute catching up on last-minute studying for a Physics exam that was inevitably going to nab him a decent grade. Whether this grade was up to scrutiny was another question. This setback didn’t matter too much; Miles tended to eat pretty quickly without his table manners being watched like a hawk by his parents. They had always done everything they could to raise Miles to become a model member of society: making sure he was putting in maximum effort into his work, learning life lessons, and other things that would keep him from a life of poverty and violence. Unfortunately, one lesson was not taught, a lesson that doesn’t matter nearly as much unless you’ve got an enemy around: check your food BEFORE you eat it. It was a lesson often learned by those with allergies and the picky eaters of our society, oftentimes the hard way for the latter who naturally assumed their sandwich wouldn’t have mayonnaise and made their server suffer for their lack of foresight. For those without that though, who cares?

Y/N panted, but as they looked up, an exhausted gasp emitted from them. Miles was gargantuan, his upper details barely visible from their view, but the smaller details of their shoes and legs were heightened. Every speck of sweat, every scratch and imperfection in the leather, every leg hair was visible as if it was under a magnifying glass. Those details were heightened at a level humanity often never gets to see. This daze that Y/N experienced didn’t last, as it was rudely shattered by the bellowing pop of the toaster.

Time was running out. Y/N found a stool and wrapped themselves around the leg of it, inching their way up like a caterpillar. After lots of pain, they managed to reach up onto the seat and pull themselves off. They jumped onto the handle of a drawer, but losing grip in one of their hands. Sweat from their hand transferred to the handle and loosened its grip too. Looking down, the hard tile promised a swift death to anyone who dared fall from such a height onto it. Closing his eyes, his grip let loose and he fell…

As Miles spread his peanut butter onto his toast, he thought about his roommate, Y/N. He heard a bang from their hall, and he wondered if it was Y/N banging their head hard or if it was Buford ding-dong-ditching him for the 2nd time this week. He was fully aware of the beef between the two, and hoped that he wouldn’t have to go to Buford’s again and risk losing their acquaintanceship. Then again, Y/N was a closer friend, so did he need to ditch Buford.

His thoughts lead the peanut butter toast to slip from the plate, landing upright below the handle of the drawer, exactly where Y/N fell. The timing was perfect, and Y/N survived by falling into the peanut butter. The impact still winded them for a moment, but they realized they were in this peanut butter. They didn’t realize yet that the peanut butter was slightly sticky.

Within the 5 seconds it fell, Miles gripped the toast, unaware of his roommate near the edge. A sense of vertigo fell upon Y/N as they rose up to Miles’ level. Their near-death accident not only had been prevented, it might nab them help. As loud as their baby little lungs could provide, they shouted out for Miles for assistance. Despite their effort however, their sound waves were unable to penetrate Miles’ large greasy ears, in part due to a loud fan keeping the air circulating in the room, an in part due to his minute size. At the very least, Miles’ eyes worked perfectly and hopefully would notice them waving their arms. It was with a degree of effort and their frustration that their arms had sunk into the thick, creamy peanut butter. Despite all of his effort into waving, they couldn’t penetrate the creamy butter. Their only hope was for Miles to spot them. To their utter fear, when Miles opened his mouth wide, revealing all of the details in their tongue and gums that they realized in fear that they had not been noticed. They couldn’t help but notice that his teeth were white and shiny, but sharp and somewhat pointy. The taste buds and other spots on his thick pink tongue were quite obvious at this size. Saliva coated it in a thin veneer, revealing Miles’ ravenous hunger. His throat looked healthy, with a lack of tonsils noticeable and his uvula being relatively short, not grabbable, that’s for sure. As their heart beat faster and faster with fear, Miles bit down on the bit of toast Y/N resided in. Quickly, Y/N was covered in moist toast and water-soaked peanut butter and was swished back and forth, somehow missing every single tooth that bit down on the clumps of food in Miles’ mouth. Hot, somewhat minty, somewhat rank breath filled the cavern and made the air stagnant. This was hell. Every single second that ticked by was filled with yelling and fear, filth and heat. Y/N screamed for help, begging Miles not to swallow. A wet sound rang through as their begging fell on deaf ears and they slid towards the awaiting opening to the throat.

Miles switched the fan off, and while continued chewing heard a familiar voice, extremely quiet but close at the same time. In order to hear this voice better, he decided to gulp down the food in his mouth, sending Y/N down the slick, wet tube known as the esophagus. He thought he had heard the voice say not to swallow, but he couldn’t imagine why.

Fear coursed through Y/N’s vains as the rhythmic gulping sent them further and further down the tube, squeezing them and keeping air from their chest, nearly making him pass out, until eventually they fell into the stomach, face first into the liquid below. This place was essentially a smelly sauna cranked. The place was immensely hot and stagnant, with a liquid smelling of acid hiked up to Y/N’s chest. White bubbles covered the walls like vines. Despite what they had just learned about the sulfuric acid present in the stomach, Y/N weirdly felt no pain or any other effect. It was just unbearably hot. They continued to yell, but were drowned out by the churning noises as the stomach processed the toast clumps next to him. Just when they thought this couldn’t be any more miserable, clumps of peanut butter and toast fell onto them and penetrated their already-ruined clothes and just made them feel even worse, as if the humidity couldn’t ruin their mood more.

Miles, finished with the meal, wondered what the voice had wanted him not to swallow for. It has sounded like Y/N, but it couldn’t have been them. Maybe it was his imagination or someone’s phone in the hall behind the wall they were facing. Around this time, Buford entered the room, eyeing Miles as he grabbed a protein shake from the fridge.

“Hey [Buford], have you seen Y/N this morning? I’m worried about them?” Miles inquired.

“No”, Buford said, giggling.

Miles didn’t believe Buford, saying, “Don’t lie to me. I know you two have something against each other. If you did something, I’m going to have to report you, and I don’t think that would be worth your time with how many warnings you’ve received already.”

Buford realized he wasn’t in the mood to go to the office despite the fact that his parents would make this charge go away like the others.

“Let’s just say my new atom reducer works…”, he replied, dashing away like a coward.

Miles, tired as he was, attempted to piece together everything in his mind. He wondered if Y/N had managed to get to him…

About this time is when he realized what had happened: he had somehow, someway, eaten Y/N. His closest friend here, he had just swallowed them, consumed them like they were nothing to him but just a garnish. Miles felt light-headed and a sense of vertigo at this moment and ran to the trash can, vomiting everything in his stomach out.

Around the time Buford came around, Y/N had gone from yelling to crying. They were now alone in this hell of an organ, with nobody knowing about this. He was going to die here, and nobody would even know what had happened. His tears were interrupted when the entire stomach sloshed to the side, knocking Y/N into the juices. The entire stomach squished up, and Y/N was shoved forcefully back up the tube and expelled past the uvula and every single tooth into the waste bin.

Miles quickly spotted Y/N and cupped them into his palm, hyperventilating and panicking.

“I’m so sorry dude, are you okay?! I’m so so sorry! I can’t believe I let this happen to you!”

Y/N replied hoarsely,

“It’s fine, I’m good,” Y/N replied, tears still stuck on their face indicating that they weren’t good at all. Miles grabbed a moist paper towel and washed Y/N off. This was an odd sensation. Here he was, holding his friend in his hand, cradling and protecting him in his most vulnerable position, like a baby is by their mother. Y/N felt like a baby, but felt nurtured and protected, cared about. Staring into Miles’ large spherical eyes, he saw Miles in a different way. More than a friend, but a protector, a caregiver, maybe even more. They almost didn’t want this moment to end.

Miles checked his watch and realized he was running out of time. Apologizing, he left Y/N on the dresser of the dorm with a granola bar and a cotton ball for a chair, and dashed out. Y/N was usually annoyed when Miles left him in times like this, irritated or just generally apathetic. But now, he wished that Miles would be there, not for his help, but for his presence and care. There was also the issue of their classes. They would have to miss them and had no alibi or excuse. Thankfully, Y/N generally had a good reputation and didn’t miss many classes, so punishment wouldn’t be that severe.

By the time Miles returned that afternoon, Y/N had returned to normal size, clearly having showered and changed clothes. They kinda looked cute in their Rolling Stones shirt and lounge pants, with their messy hair nearly covering their eyes. The situation earlier had been a nightmare for them both, and would be henceforth referred to as the “Peanut Butter Toast Incident”, but was more of a bonding experience for the two. Miles moved from peanut butter toast to other kinds of toast and refused to eat it with peanut butter up until the writing of this story at least.

We’d love to tell you that Buford changed or got any consequences for this, but nothing could be proven for sure. Burford improved none, as you’d expect. A few weeks later, due to separate circumstances, they did move a floor up in the dorms, but that’s about it.

As for Miles and Y/N, this was the start of a close relationship, whether platonic or romantic we don’t care to know. It was either way the start of something new between the two that started with Buford and some peanut butter toast.

Tumblr 1000% knows what they’re doing. I would be shocked if they didn’t. Strangely enough, I don’t think I’d really care about this anime besides this one scene.

Could use more saliva imo.

Reblogging since I posted this 12 hours earlier than I usually post my stories, might’ve gotten lost in the shuffle lol

Wild Kratts Vore - The One with Tazzy Chris

This story was inspired by @voreaz , huge HUGE thanks to their blog for inspiring me to get out of my debating head and actually write Wild Kratts vore, something I’ve been considering since before I knew what vore even was. While I am trying to center this around the episode, I apologize if I deviate too far in the parts I’m not trying to deviate from. Also, continuity doesn’t exist until Athena P says it does, so until she drops a lore video, I’m ignoring it. (Also don’t tag her OR the fandom if you reblog this please, I’m already dying publishing this)

Silence in the night isn’t a thing.

Maybe you’re in the city and there’s cars driving by, or like a small town with the noises of bars, but out in the wilderness, there’s the best kind of night noise: living creatures. Crickets and cicadas chirping, wolves howling, owls hoo-ing, and other noises. The noises of the wilderness are an active sign of flourishing life, even in the times most are asleep, but for the Kratt Brothers, this was the best time to observe the Tasmanian Devil.

Out in Tasmania, the brothers were on a quest, a great and noble quest, to prove that these creatures weren’t actually as scary as people think they are. It was also a chance to help scientists track them, as they are sadly endangered and as such needed to be protected.

Chris was sure to pack only essential tools for tagging. After all, each material was extra weight and as such, only what was necessary should be brought, so while Martin revealing that he only brought a crappy Halloween mask, was surprising, he was calm. Not mad, just kind of surprised.

Aviva took this moment to call them via hologram, eliminating the chance Martin had to explain his thought process or share anything else he brought.

“Simply put the tag on their ear. It doesn’t hurt them and allows us to track them!” She told the boys before going back to work on something, whatever it was is unimportant. Now, one can’t simply grab an animal and put it on the animal; that would cause them distress and maybe pain. The fly cam was the mouseketool for the job, providing a safe and easy way to tag the devils. Walking towards the noises of these creatures, Martin asked Chris,

“Not to be a scaredy cat, but are you sure we wanna do this?”, either afraid of the dark or the very creatures that he preached to be misunderstood.

“We have to! T. Devils are disappearing so quickly, and the more we know about them, the more we’ll be able to help protect them from becoming extinct” Chris replied calmly, his patience grounding Martin’s slightly hysteric fears.

What would help this were if one of these T. Devils didn’t make a scary shadow via Chris’ headlamp, but guess what? Martin, while initially afraid, saw the creature making the shadow and the coating of fear was spread away. Martin did though, feel a tickling sensation on his leg and asked Chris accusatorily if this was a good time for a tickle fight.

“I’m not tickling you right now”

As it turns out, one of the unaptly-named devils was licking his leg, which frightened Martin into Chris’ arms. But these devils didn’t just create fear, they also ate food. Being scavengers, they found a carcass and began eating, giving Chris ample time to put on a tag via the fly cam. [Watching the episode right now for the sake of exposition and they can chew through BONE?!] Tagging went well.

Now here’s where things get interesting. While Chris was using the fly cam, a devil came up to him and began observing this large foreign skin monkey that showed up out of nowhere. While Chris was joking about the devil giving him a taste test, what this animal found more appetizing was the creature suit, and took a chomp at it. Sparks and whirring caught Chris’s attention, who told the animal to be careful as to not cause a creature suit malfunction. But as things go, he jinxed himself and suddenly starting shaking as a green glow engulfed him and he became partially Tasmanian Devil, his brain rewired in a more wild sense. Chris was now half man, half creature. Instantly smelling something good, Tazzy Chris (as he was affectionately referred to by witnesses) ran on all fours for the sake of discovering where this meat was. Martin saw this situation and grabbed Chris by the leg just as his malfunction temporarily ceased, with Chris none the wiser of this incident. Chris walked along, malfunctioned again, and returned to normal just as Martin tried to inform Aviva of the situation, who didn’t believe him but started on their way anyway. Chris kept malfunctioning and unmalfuntioning with no knowledge or control.

So this happens, and while they’re still dealing with this crap take care of the whole Zach thing, because truly, that’s not what’s important here. What is important was what happened next [here’s where we deviate from the episode slightly]

This suit, as it turns out, was not something that could be fixed lickety-split. Rather, it would require being hooked up to a computer and the software deactivated so that the suit could be removed for repair. But it was 4 in the morning and since Chris had some level of control, the Tortuga gang decided to leave the issue until after they got some good night’s sleep. After all, it would require focus she just didn’t have, and Chris was too tired to be helpful. So, the issue was put off. With the lights off and sleeping bags out, everyone got in and got rested for a few hours of sleep for tomorrow’s next adventure.

Sadly, this wasn’t going to go too well, and that’s for one simple reason: Martin had been foolish. If you recall, I mentioned that Aviva had interrupted him before he could share everything else he brought. Now, this thing he brought was the miniaturizer, a glorified shrink ray. It was compact enough to fit in the cargo shorts Martin wore, and was so exhausted from taking care of Chris and Zach that he had forgotten to put it up. So there he was, tightly wound in his sleeping bag with a small device in his back pocket against the ground slightly. All it would take for catastrophe was Martin rolling over slightly and pushing the button into the ground. What do you think happened?

The zapping sound, muffled by the bag, was unheard as Martin was shrunk to a tiny size. Immediately waking up in fear and realizing what had just happened, he thrashed and panicked, trying to find his way out of this sleeping bag so he could get someone to help him with returning to normal size.

Meanwhile, Chris was struggling to sleep, as his Tasmanian form had taken over for a hot minute and was wide awake, being nocturnal. While he did roll to his side and start to close his eyes, from the slit of his vision still showing, he saw movement. Small movement in Martin’s bag. His regular reaction would’ve been to jump up and investigate, but the rather feral part of his fried brain saw something else in that lump, something that was quite shocking and yet not realized fully quite yet: food. Some small and defenseless creature that could satiate his ravenous hunger after being rejected the carcass he had so badly craved. It was something. Like a cat preparing for a pounce, he just stared at the lump, watching as it got closer and closer to the edge, tripping and struggling all the way. And then, he saw it: a tiny blue thing. It was extremely dark, so much so that the night vision wasn’t quite helping him decipher what on earth that was. What was it? A monkey? A mouse? Some poor unfortunate flightless bird, like a damn Kiwi?

It truly didn’t matter what it was at this point; it smelled heavenly, like the greatest diner in the state of Oklahoma. It would probably taste even better. Saliva started seeping from his mouth as he started craving whatever the hell that tiny little thing was. Now would’ve been a great time for the malfunctioning suit to switch back, but poor luck fell upon this poor turtle ship, as it would experience a quite unpleasant incident, one only discovered once the sun rose and the dust settled.

Martin, after much struggles and pushes, tripped out of the sleeping bag and onto the cold, hard floor, his arms catching him just in time to not faceplant. He took a moment to get up and tried to look around, to formulate a plan. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the massive green eyes of his transformed brother, his pupils widened beyond the point that they typically go in dark places. It was something more, Martin recognized. What exactly was triggering this response from Chris wasn’t quite clear though. Happiness of seeing his brother? Focus? Hunger? This though, was more analytical thought than Chris was doing.

However much of Chris’s mind was there within his current state fluctuated, and right now, his mind was more wild than not. There was no thought, just animal instinct for a moment. With an unzipped sleeping bag, Chris lept out of his bag and pounced onto the unidentified creature, keeping it trapped within his hands. He had caught it and was in complete control of its circumstances now. Curiously, he picked it up in between 2 fingers by some sort of cloth. He ignored the fear that had covered Martin in a white, cold sheet and took a deep sniff of his brother. The smell was so strong, and so appetizing that Chris could wait no longer. Well, at least for a moment. Some more of Chris entered his mind, and thankfully this part told the rest that despite his lack of patience, he should be careful in not to harm this creature but rather to just swallow it whole. Such advice was swiftly taken.

Martin had never been more scared. He’d admit he was a bit of a scaredy cat, was frightened by shadows and the sort, but the fear was always ushered away by rationality and curiousness. This was different, however, in the sense that this was, at least to him, a real threat. He had no control over the situation, no rationality to lean on. For heaven’s sakes, his own brother was treating him as some sort of creature, a mouse, and not as his own flesh and blood brother, his lifelong friend.

Now if he thought that was bad, the lifting up above the head slow opening of Chris’ jaw to reveal his eager and awaiting maw sent a cold shiver down his spine and terminated any hope that this would be easily resolved. The sight was out of a nightmare. The teeth looked sharper and weren’t much of a pleasant invitation. The pink and squishy tongue covered with a veneer of saliva and lowered somewhat in preparation for his presence, for its next meal. At the very least his throat was healthy, flexing somewhat in anticipation for this event, and his teeth were white. The mouth of his brother was human, and yet in a way, more animal, more carnivorous.

The furred fingers gripping his shirt released, and he yelped as he landed face first into a pool of saliva and onto the squishy tongue. Quickly after, Chris’s teeth clicked shut and he was trapped. The tongue pressed up, pinning Martin against the roof and rolled him around with itself, tasting him, savoring him even, like a candy. Martin, evidently, tasted phenomenal, and he wondered if Jimmy ever felt the euphoria his brother was feeling. It wasn’t like that blue whale mouth he was in, as that was bigger and the tongue didn’t do all this. But his thoughts once again skimpered off in fear to the bunker in the back of his mind with their families in tow as Martin once again lost rationality and Chris moved Martin about the mouth, covering him in hot and slightly sticky saliva. I mean, it was NASTY, but in a way, to Martin, it was cool enough. He’d washed worse off of his clothes. Now that he was lathered and in place, the back of the tongue lowered and Chris slightly tilted his head back, allowing gravity to move his brother into his throat. Martin could only scream as he rolled into the back of the throat, and with Chris taking a deep swallow, he was forced into the throat. It took another swallow to get him far enough down for peristalsis to take over for him.

Chris put a finger on his throat to feel the irregular shape of the creature inside him, being tugged deeper and deeper. It was wonderful. This was unlike anything else he had ever done. The feral-ish (have to be careful using that word) part of his malfunctioning mind acting on its urges and following its basic instinct to consume, he felt satisfied at a good meal. Once the morsel that he usually called his brother disappeared beneath the collarbone, he laid back down on his sleeping bag as he felt the drop of Martin falling into his stomach.

It was an unceremoniously plop, really, as Chris didn’t catch himself and landed square on his head and fell backward onto his, well, back. It was indeed a stomach, humid as all hell, with wrinkles everywhere and a clear bile at the bottom that was really just a puddle. As far as sight was concerned, there was none, but as for smell, hoo boy. It was the smell of spoiled food of meals past, of bacteria’s chemicals. Truly, it was rank. He’d rather be back in the mouth of that grouper he saved the pufferfish from. The natural reaction to being eaten alive is usually fear, panic, sadness, etc, and while for a time this is how Martin felt, it was overcome by curiousness before long. He started recording with his creaturepad, marveling at the stomach walls moving and churning him around this moist environment, similar in a way to the swamps they’d been in in Florida while looking for crocodiles. The way the body worked was fascinating and his mind raced, taking notes of the process. How the mouth had soaked him and the muscles of the mouth joined with the throat to swallow him, how said throat had worked to swiftly move him down here, and how the stomach responded to his presence. It was a good thing, him being distracted from his circumstances, how he was trapped in an organ usually filled with acids that would break him down into nutrients to fuel the body.

But that was peculiar, how they were just not there, something Martin picked up on after feeling the mucus on the stomach wall protecting it from self-destructing. Why on Earth weren’t digestive enzymes present? He was grateful they weren’t here so he wasn’t in danger, but still, perplexing, no? The space without said threat was relaxing in a way, the heat and limited bile working to soothe his weary body and tired mind, to sort of whirl him to sleep. While he was laying against the wall, he was fighting to stay awake, but ultimately, he lost the battle and dozed off to unconsciousness.

Hours passed, and as the sun rose, Chris had fallen asleep, but Aviva had woken up, had already hooked his suit up to her computer so that she could patch the code and allow Chris to be free from his creature power suit. She knew that T. Devils were nocturnal and Chris too by extension, so she wouldn’t be pressed for time to do it before Chris’s suit glitched again and he went off to do something. This was barely an inconvenience this way.

When Chris finally rose, his suit had been removed and was back to normal, oblivious to the events that had transpired just hours ago. He took a look at Martin’s sleeping bag and found it empty, save for the miniaturizer. It looked like it had gone off. This was worrying: if Martin had shrunken in the night, where was he now? Then, he heard a peculiar sound from his core. A sound unlike the heartbeats and gurgles that were standard, it was almost . . . Snoring?

Peculiar, but it couldn’t be what he thought. He should just call Martin, ask him where he was. When he dialed Martin, he could hear his ringtone coming from-

His suspicions were true. He theorized that his tazzy form had seen Martin shrunken and decided he was prey, catching him and swallowing him whole. But there weren’t any acids present, thankfully, so Martin had unintentionally fallen asleep. He didn’t blame him: it had been a LONG night, so he needed some rest. Chris chose not to inform the others of his discovery, but rather to talk a morning walk. Once Martin woke up, Chris would release him. They’d tell the others that he had had a run in with a hungry devil, but not which hungry devil. Then, they’d wait until night to tag more of the devils. But until then (and until Aviva and Koki inevitably found out the truth and lectured them), it would just be an alone nature walk, but with Martin, not truly alone.

Wild Kratts Vore - The One with Tazzy Chris

This story was inspired by @voreaz , huge HUGE thanks to their blog for inspiring me to get out of my debating head and actually write Wild Kratts vore, something I’ve been considering since before I knew what vore even was. While I am trying to center this around the episode, I apologize if I deviate too far in the parts I’m not trying to deviate from. Also, continuity doesn’t exist until Athena P says it does, so until she drops a lore video, I’m ignoring it. (Also don’t tag her OR the fandom if you reblog this please, I’m already dying publishing this)

Silence in the night isn’t a thing.

Maybe you’re in the city and there’s cars driving by, or like a small town with the noises of bars, but out in the wilderness, there’s the best kind of night noise: living creatures. Crickets and cicadas chirping, wolves howling, owls hoo-ing, and other noises. The noises of the wilderness are an active sign of flourishing life, even in the times most are asleep, but for the Kratt Brothers, this was the best time to observe the Tasmanian Devil.

Out in Tasmania, the brothers were on a quest, a great and noble quest, to prove that these creatures weren’t actually as scary as people think they are. It was also a chance to help scientists track them, as they are sadly endangered and as such needed to be protected.

Chris was sure to pack only essential tools for tagging. After all, each material was extra weight and as such, only what was necessary should be brought, so while Martin revealing that he only brought a crappy Halloween mask, was surprising, he was calm. Not mad, just kind of surprised.

Aviva took this moment to call them via hologram, eliminating the chance Martin had to explain his thought process or share anything else he brought.

“Simply put the tag on their ear. It doesn’t hurt them and allows us to track them!” She told the boys before going back to work on something, whatever it was is unimportant. Now, one can’t simply grab an animal and put it on the animal; that would cause them distress and maybe pain. The fly cam was the mouseketool for the job, providing a safe and easy way to tag the devils. Walking towards the noises of these creatures, Martin asked Chris,

“Not to be a scaredy cat, but are you sure we wanna do this?”, either afraid of the dark or the very creatures that he preached to be misunderstood.

“We have to! T. Devils are disappearing so quickly, and the more we know about them, the more we’ll be able to help protect them from becoming extinct” Chris replied calmly, his patience grounding Martin’s slightly hysteric fears.

What would help this were if one of these T. Devils didn’t make a scary shadow via Chris’ headlamp, but guess what? Martin, while initially afraid, saw the creature making the shadow and the coating of fear was spread away. Martin did though, feel a tickling sensation on his leg and asked Chris accusatorily if this was a good time for a tickle fight.

“I’m not tickling you right now”

As it turns out, one of the unaptly-named devils was licking his leg, which frightened Martin into Chris’ arms. But these devils didn’t just create fear, they also ate food. Being scavengers, they found a carcass and began eating, giving Chris ample time to put on a tag via the fly cam. [Watching the episode right now for the sake of exposition and they can chew through BONE?!] Tagging went well.

Now here’s where things get interesting. While Chris was using the fly cam, a devil came up to him and began observing this large foreign skin monkey that showed up out of nowhere. While Chris was joking about the devil giving him a taste test, what this animal found more appetizing was the creature suit, and took a chomp at it. Sparks and whirring caught Chris’s attention, who told the animal to be careful as to not cause a creature suit malfunction. But as things go, he jinxed himself and suddenly starting shaking as a green glow engulfed him and he became partially Tasmanian Devil, his brain rewired in a more wild sense. Chris was now half man, half creature. Instantly smelling something good, Tazzy Chris (as he was affectionately referred to by witnesses) ran on all fours for the sake of discovering where this meat was. Martin saw this situation and grabbed Chris by the leg just as his malfunction temporarily ceased, with Chris none the wiser of this incident. Chris walked along, malfunctioned again, and returned to normal just as Martin tried to inform Aviva of the situation, who didn’t believe him but started on their way anyway. Chris kept malfunctioning and unmalfuntioning with no knowledge or control.

So this happens, and while they’re still dealing with this crap take care of the whole Zach thing, because truly, that’s not what’s important here. What is important was what happened next [here’s where we deviate from the episode slightly]

This suit, as it turns out, was not something that could be fixed lickety-split. Rather, it would require being hooked up to a computer and the software deactivated so that the suit could be removed for repair. But it was 4 in the morning and since Chris had some level of control, the Tortuga gang decided to leave the issue until after they got some good night’s sleep. After all, it would require focus she just didn’t have, and Chris was too tired to be helpful. So, the issue was put off. With the lights off and sleeping bags out, everyone got in and got rested for a few hours of sleep for tomorrow’s next adventure.

Sadly, this wasn’t going to go too well, and that’s for one simple reason: Martin had been foolish. If you recall, I mentioned that Aviva had interrupted him before he could share everything else he brought. Now, this thing he brought was the miniaturizer, a glorified shrink ray. It was compact enough to fit in the cargo shorts Martin wore, and was so exhausted from taking care of Chris and Zach that he had forgotten to put it up. So there he was, tightly wound in his sleeping bag with a small device in his back pocket against the ground slightly. All it would take for catastrophe was Martin rolling over slightly and pushing the button into the ground. What do you think happened?

The zapping sound, muffled by the bag, was unheard as Martin was shrunk to a tiny size. Immediately waking up in fear and realizing what had just happened, he thrashed and panicked, trying to find his way out of this sleeping bag so he could get someone to help him with returning to normal size.

Meanwhile, Chris was struggling to sleep, as his Tasmanian form had taken over for a hot minute and was wide awake, being nocturnal. While he did roll to his side and start to close his eyes, from the slit of his vision still showing, he saw movement. Small movement in Martin’s bag. His regular reaction would’ve been to jump up and investigate, but the rather feral part of his fried brain saw something else in that lump, something that was quite shocking and yet not realized fully quite yet: food. Some small and defenseless creature that could satiate his ravenous hunger after being rejected the carcass he had so badly craved. It was something. Like a cat preparing for a pounce, he just stared at the lump, watching as it got closer and closer to the edge, tripping and struggling all the way. And then, he saw it: a tiny blue thing. It was extremely dark, so much so that the night vision wasn’t quite helping him decipher what on earth that was. What was it? A monkey? A mouse? Some poor unfortunate flightless bird, like a damn Kiwi?

It truly didn’t matter what it was at this point; it smelled heavenly, like the greatest diner in the state of Oklahoma. It would probably taste even better. Saliva started seeping from his mouth as he started craving whatever the hell that tiny little thing was. Now would’ve been a great time for the malfunctioning suit to switch back, but poor luck fell upon this poor turtle ship, as it would experience a quite unpleasant incident, one only discovered once the sun rose and the dust settled.

Martin, after much struggles and pushes, tripped out of the sleeping bag and onto the cold, hard floor, his arms catching him just in time to not faceplant. He took a moment to get up and tried to look around, to formulate a plan. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the massive green eyes of his transformed brother, his pupils widened beyond the point that they typically go in dark places. It was something more, Martin recognized. What exactly was triggering this response from Chris wasn’t quite clear though. Happiness of seeing his brother? Focus? Hunger? This though, was more analytical thought than Chris was doing.

However much of Chris’s mind was there within his current state fluctuated, and right now, his mind was more wild than not. There was no thought, just animal instinct for a moment. With an unzipped sleeping bag, Chris lept out of his bag and pounced onto the unidentified creature, keeping it trapped within his hands. He had caught it and was in complete control of its circumstances now. Curiously, he picked it up in between 2 fingers by some sort of cloth. He ignored the fear that had covered Martin in a white, cold sheet and took a deep sniff of his brother. The smell was so strong, and so appetizing that Chris could wait no longer. Well, at least for a moment. Some more of Chris entered his mind, and thankfully this part told the rest that despite his lack of patience, he should be careful in not to harm this creature but rather to just swallow it whole. Such advice was swiftly taken.

Martin had never been more scared. He’d admit he was a bit of a scaredy cat, was frightened by shadows and the sort, but the fear was always ushered away by rationality and curiousness. This was different, however, in the sense that this was, at least to him, a real threat. He had no control over the situation, no rationality to lean on. For heaven’s sakes, his own brother was treating him as some sort of creature, a mouse, and not as his own flesh and blood brother, his lifelong friend.

Now if he thought that was bad, the lifting up above the head slow opening of Chris’ jaw to reveal his eager and awaiting maw sent a cold shiver down his spine and terminated any hope that this would be easily resolved. The sight was out of a nightmare. The teeth looked sharper and weren’t much of a pleasant invitation. The pink and squishy tongue covered with a veneer of saliva and lowered somewhat in preparation for his presence, for its next meal. At the very least his throat was healthy, flexing somewhat in anticipation for this event, and his teeth were white. The mouth of his brother was human, and yet in a way, more animal, more carnivorous.

The furred fingers gripping his shirt released, and he yelped as he landed face first into a pool of saliva and onto the squishy tongue. Quickly after, Chris’s teeth clicked shut and he was trapped. The tongue pressed up, pinning Martin against the roof and rolled him around with itself, tasting him, savoring him even, like a candy. Martin, evidently, tasted phenomenal, and he wondered if Jimmy ever felt the euphoria his brother was feeling. It wasn’t like that blue whale mouth he was in, as that was bigger and the tongue didn’t do all this. But his thoughts once again skimpered off in fear to the bunker in the back of his mind with their families in tow as Martin once again lost rationality and Chris moved Martin about the mouth, covering him in hot and slightly sticky saliva. I mean, it was NASTY, but in a way, to Martin, it was cool enough. He’d washed worse off of his clothes. Now that he was lathered and in place, the back of the tongue lowered and Chris slightly tilted his head back, allowing gravity to move his brother into his throat. Martin could only scream as he rolled into the back of the throat, and with Chris taking a deep swallow, he was forced into the throat. It took another swallow to get him far enough down for peristalsis to take over for him.

Chris put a finger on his throat to feel the irregular shape of the creature inside him, being tugged deeper and deeper. It was wonderful. This was unlike anything else he had ever done. The feral-ish (have to be careful using that word) part of his malfunctioning mind acting on its urges and following its basic instinct to consume, he felt satisfied at a good meal. Once the morsel that he usually called his brother disappeared beneath the collarbone, he laid back down on his sleeping bag as he felt the drop of Martin falling into his stomach.

It was an unceremoniously plop, really, as Chris didn’t catch himself and landed square on his head and fell backward onto his, well, back. It was indeed a stomach, humid as all hell, with wrinkles everywhere and a clear bile at the bottom that was really just a puddle. As far as sight was concerned, there was none, but as for smell, hoo boy. It was the smell of spoiled food of meals past, of bacteria’s chemicals. Truly, it was rank. He’d rather be back in the mouth of that grouper he saved the pufferfish from. The natural reaction to being eaten alive is usually fear, panic, sadness, etc, and while for a time this is how Martin felt, it was overcome by curiousness before long. He started recording with his creaturepad, marveling at the stomach walls moving and churning him around this moist environment, similar in a way to the swamps they’d been in in Florida while looking for crocodiles. The way the body worked was fascinating and his mind raced, taking notes of the process. How the mouth had soaked him and the muscles of the mouth joined with the throat to swallow him, how said throat had worked to swiftly move him down here, and how the stomach responded to his presence. It was a good thing, him being distracted from his circumstances, how he was trapped in an organ usually filled with acids that would break him down into nutrients to fuel the body.

But that was peculiar, how they were just not there, something Martin picked up on after feeling the mucus on the stomach wall protecting it from self-destructing. Why on Earth weren’t digestive enzymes present? He was grateful they weren’t here so he wasn’t in danger, but still, perplexing, no? The space without said threat was relaxing in a way, the heat and limited bile working to soothe his weary body and tired mind, to sort of whirl him to sleep. While he was laying against the wall, he was fighting to stay awake, but ultimately, he lost the battle and dozed off to unconsciousness.

Hours passed, and as the sun rose, Chris had fallen asleep, but Aviva had woken up, had already hooked his suit up to her computer so that she could patch the code and allow Chris to be free from his creature power suit. She knew that T. Devils were nocturnal and Chris too by extension, so she wouldn’t be pressed for time to do it before Chris’s suit glitched again and he went off to do something. This was barely an inconvenience this way.

When Chris finally rose, his suit had been removed and was back to normal, oblivious to the events that had transpired just hours ago. He took a look at Martin’s sleeping bag and found it empty, save for the miniaturizer. It looked like it had gone off. This was worrying: if Martin had shrunken in the night, where was he now? Then, he heard a peculiar sound from his core. A sound unlike the heartbeats and gurgles that were standard, it was almost . . . Snoring?

Peculiar, but it couldn’t be what he thought. He should just call Martin, ask him where he was. When he dialed Martin, he could hear his ringtone coming from-

His suspicions were true. He theorized that his tazzy form had seen Martin shrunken and decided he was prey, catching him and swallowing him whole. But there weren’t any acids present, thankfully, so Martin had unintentionally fallen asleep. He didn’t blame him: it had been a LONG night, so he needed some rest. Chris chose not to inform the others of his discovery, but rather to talk a morning walk. Once Martin woke up, Chris would release him. They’d tell the others that he had had a run in with a hungry devil, but not which hungry devil. Then, they’d wait until night to tag more of the devils. But until then (and until Aviva and Koki inevitably found out the truth and lectured them), it would just be an alone nature walk, but with Martin, not truly alone.

The Atom Meister Saga - Movie Sonic Vore Story

This was originally posted in 5 parts to Wattpad from May 28th to June 5th of 2024. One special part of this release is that I’m restoring a cut line that Wattpad didn’t like and it took an entire week to figure out. It was rewritten several times in between fixing that. While I had thought I had lost the line, I realized that it had only been edited out of the Wattpad editor and not the original document, so it was preserved.

This contains safe, soft, semi-willing vore of Movie Sonic, who is a minor. If that’s a problem, please scroll past. Anyways, enjoy! Or don’t, just please don’t turn me into a human candle.

Morning in the Wachowski household: stressful speed on the borderline of uncontrollable chaos. Just waking up Knuckles brings risk of a broken nose. Every dynamic of the children: Sonic’s teenage spirit, Tails’s cautiousness and curiosity, and Knuckles’s warrior instinct makes for an interesting combination, one Tom and Maddie, while they love it, would admit it’s quite stressful. This morning, though, while as typical as normal, was the start of an… eventful day.

While the humans in the home were getting ready for work, breakfast begins. The following is a list of the people at the table and their behaviors: Tom was eating, though not at the table because he’s cleaning up some new debris found under the couch from Knuckles’s arrival, Maddie was eating while typing a document, our friend Sonic was eating as fast as possible in order to start his day, Tails was taking detailed notes on the scenery outside, and Knuckles… oh Knuckles. He was busy treating each piece of cereal like an opponent to be vanquished in a quick battle loudly, then eating it. Each. Individual. Piece. It was quite the spectacle.

When asked about this, he claimed he’s “practicing” for his next great battle, someone completely in character for him. A warrior first and friend second, he remains prepared for his next great adventure. An adventure that despite the short time he’s had to take a break, was an inevitability. An adventure that probably wouldn’t contain tiny warriors as his practice method would imply. Would it have, though, if the Echidnas had still been battling others? We can’t say for certain if any if how many people had gone through his system (reminder: they don’t have stomachs).

As Maddie left for work, Sonic prepared himself for a morning out with Tom before he goes to do something important that afternoon (we aren’t cleared to know what). Just the two of them, father and son, out exploring Green Hills. It had been a minute since they had had the opportunity with Tails and Knuckles having their time with Tom, adjusting to their new life in Green Hills. The two newer members of the household hadn’t been on Earth for 13 years and required some time to settle in and make themselves home (more Tails than Knuckles). However, now that it had been a moment since Robotnik’s second defeat and disappearance, Sonic was restless, ready to explore the world. Unfortunately, at the moment, G.U.N. still required them to stay in Green Hill, so that’s what they could do.

“So when we heading out?” Sonic asked Tom. Tom was currently cleaning up a spill from the ground.

“Whenever I get done cleaning” Tom replies. He’s been up since 6 in the morning cleaning up some of the remnants from the battle that had taken place in the house. It’s quite the task. The hole in the wall is covered in tarp in a vain attempt at insulating. Scraps of glass still hide under some of the furniture, usually discovered the hard way with some of it impaling into a hand. Despite this, though, the house remains mostly clean thanks to hard work.

So while Tom is busy cleaning, Sonic has to kill the time. His item of interest? The machine Tails has been working on in the backyard.

“Whatcha got here, buddy?” Sonic inquired of his fox buddy, who’s busy welding two panels together at a 90° angle, seemingly to make a box.

“Well, it’s a prototype of some atom reduction technology I was working on before I had to restart once I came here to help you. Basically, it uses Oganesson-Tetrahydride to reduce the size in each individual atom rapidly to its minimum possible size” Tails replied.

“Dunno what that means, but it sounds cool!” Sonic said, confused from the big words that mean nothing to him.

“It’s basically a shrink ray” Tails replied, less enthusiastically but still in a positive tone.

“Woah awesome! It’s just like “Honey, I Shrunk the Kids!”

“Yes, but hopefully I don’t end up shrinking anyone. I just plan on shrinking objects for ease of transport. ” Tails responded. Sonic showed him the movie recently, although he didn’t care for it nearly as much as its sequel with completely different actors, “Honey, I Shrunk Ourselves”, much to the dismay of Sonic.

“What would it do to a person though?” Sonic curiously thought aloud.

“Thanks to its technology, they would have increased strength and resilience to withstand forces harming it, although not enough to withstand the force of the average person, so it wouldn’t end well unless they could be restored”.

“Coooooool”, Sonic said. He wants to ask if he could perhaps help test it, be involved in something so futuristic. But he knows that the only thing Tails would let him do is watch, which was basically denial but letting him off easy. So he doesn’t bother. Instead, he goes to find Knuckles on a hill somewhat far from the house, chopping wood in half.

“Whatcha doing here, Knux?” Sonic asked in a similar way to the way he asked Tails about his invention.

“Chopping these logs with my hands so that I don’t lose the strength during battle. It is merely a warmup for my morning routine”

“Worried you’re gonna tire yourself out?” Sonic wondered, somewhat concerned but not really.

“An echidna is never tired” Knuckles replied. He is most likely not exaggerating, Sonic thinks. He sat and watched Knuckles chop away, knowing full well that Knuckles would have perfect timing and precision each time. It was somewhat relaxing in a way, the sheer perfection he presented in each chop. It was akin to a chef’s perfect slicing of an onion and syncopated depositing into a pot of a soup, done with precision that many regular mortals aspire to achieve just once in their lives.

But the thing about relaxation is that it is easily interrupted, as a helicopter hovered by the house, with masked men attempting to hook the shrink ray up to it. The boys rushed over to fight off the baddies, with Tom outside, looking at the baddies in frustration.

“SCPD, HANDS UP!” He said, holding up a taser. A taser, by the way, that he had forgotten to charge.

Due to the sheer number of baddies, Sonic and Knuckles are unable to get to the house before they lift the machine, but not just that. They grab Tom and drag him into the chopper door. Tails had not been seized, but he was on the ground, the wind knocked out of him.

Sonic jumps into action. “You guys catch up. I’m going to stay with the chopper, and Tails, you track me and head this way in that ATV”. With that, Sonic dashed toward the helicopter.

The ATV, though, sitting on the side of the house was older and hadn’t been run in a minute, so it would take the other two boys a minute to get it to fire. But nevermind that, we need to focus on Sonic. Sonic stayed behind the chopper, following it through the bushy forest, not going directly below it for fear of being spotted. He weaves narrowly between trees when one was coming up, sometimes being whacked with a twig or two. He made his way next to the freeway after a minute, and followed for about 15 minutes until the helicopter began to land at a helipad, at which point he took cover. And where was he at exactly? Disruption Corporation.

Ah yes, Disruption Corporation: A monopoly known for filth and chaos. They've purchased about every terrible company you can think of: Zonophone, Shell, some remnants of Standard Oil, etc etc. They also have some more relevant lore which we'll go over really quick.

Doctor Robotnik, who technically never existed according to the government, was a man who was despised by his coworkers. They knew of his power-hungry mindset and the motives behind his work. Despite this, for most of his insane antics, his bosses funded his every move. When he was working on a mind-control laser? Tax payer money. The robots and the trucks and most of his cool gadgets? Also given to him from taxpayer money. It's not like they did nothing about it; they complained to HR, the higher-ups, anyone with authority to get rid of him. Sadly, their pleas fell on deaf ears.

This was up until he was chosen to investigate a massive EMP that wiped the Northeast US power grid of all of its energy despite his lack of qualification and the complaints of his associates. Robotnik received some funding, but when he discovered Sonic's leftover quill and wanted to explore its power, he was refused funding. See, his assignment was to find out what caused the EMP, not to harvest quill power. That would be a job that the powers above him would dive into for the purpose of renewable energy. They knew that if he received that funding, the quill was his, not theirs. That would be an investment they wouldn't make back. With a lack of funding, he couldn't do whatever he wish, which infuriated him. Luckily, his employee Agent Stone had some connections to help him cause disruption. Yes indeed, Robotnik's entire manhunt for Sonic's power was propelled by Disruption Corporation. All of the antics with the robots on the highway, that cool-ass jet, his analyzers and cracking of Sonic's code? Received the stamp of approval from DC.

Now, you are allowed to forget all of that. It truly doesn't matter. Neither parties know each other, really. DC never got any status updates of Sonic, and Sonic has no reason to know about them either. The question really, is-

"What do they want with that shrink ray?"

As Sonic was behind the dumpster, watching the helicopter sit there, he had to wonder what was going on behind the scenes. There must be a reason for this. And why did they grab Tom and not Tails, its actual inventor? All were good questions, but none mattered at the moment because Sonic was now paying closer attention as the masked men got out and took a handcuffed Tom with them into a door with a passcode lock. As soon as the coast was clear, Sonic dashed over to the door. The passcode had 9 different numbers. So many different combinations, what could it be? Kicking the door was right out; solid steel 6 inches thick. What was one to do?

As Sonic stared at the buttons, a very faint detail came to him that perhaps wasn't that important: the first 5 numbers were slightly faded. He tried 25431, nope. 45123, nah. 34521, also no. Peculiar. You wouldn't think...

"Aha!" Sonic shouted as the door opened. Indeed, the passcode was 12345, the kind of passcode an idiot would have on their luggage. He wondered why a massive building with malicious intent would have such an easy passcode? Did they want people to come in?

The sight of 6 armed men facing him with guns raised answered that last question for him. Indeed, it was a setup. The door was heavily guarded from the inside and that's where the soldiers all wait out at: the reception area. Immediately, someone shot first. Sonic dashed to the right, narrowly missing the bullet fired and kicking the shortest guard square in the ankles. The fall managed to knock him out. Despite all of the shots fired, Sonic managed to outrun them all. For the second guard, a spin dash knocked 3 in a line over like bowling pins. The last two, though, would be harder to deal with. They were also somewhat quick, managing to avoid Sonic's attacks. A punch here, a shot there, some kicks were exchanged too. As is the issue with guns, though, the ammo eventually ran out. The moment it took them to realize that was enough for Sonic to push them into the open elevator shaft, sending them falling, falling, falling until they were out of view.

Now that the assault had been vanquished, he took just a moment to look around. We weren't kidding when we said reception area. It was literally a hospital reception area, with an elderly woman with glasses doubling as a pearl necklace sitting there.

"Excuse me, miss, but would you happened to have seen a man in a leather jacket with handcuffs pass by here?"

We aren't sure what the woman was thinking, but her response indicated that she didn't see him as a threat, despite the carnage that just occurred.

"Well dear, they took him to the lab, last door on the right."

Sonic took her directions as a sign and went down the hallway to said door. Sadly, it wouldn't be so easy, as she forgot to mention the massive mirror maze inside this room. As he made his way through, twisting around bends and down halls, he realized with a massive bop on his nose from a wall that he's have to take his time here. Every bend he thought was safe ended up with a dead end, and some more dubious-looking paths were just fine.

Bop, dash, bop, dash, dash, bop.

After an excruciating trip, he made it to the lab, where Tom was sitting on a stool.

"Tom!" Sonic yelled, attracting the attention of every doctor in there, including a large man in a black lab coat and white leather gloves. His eyes were small and blue, his hair covered by a black felt fedora, his legs short and thick but his core thicker and taller.

"Well well well, if it isn't the blue furry son of the leather man! I'm glad you're here; you're about to witness my new invention!"

It was Tails's machine. The panels on the large aluminum box hadn't been filled in, it still had Tails's bag on the neck of the laser bit that looked as cartoonish as you think it did. He didn't even try to make it different.

"Hey, that's not yours! It's my friend's!" This was reciprocated with a slap so hard, it sent him onto the ground.

"Way to ruin my fun, jerkwagon. Fine, I found this machine via drone footage, and I knew I had to have it. I sent my boys to grab it and its inventor, although they seem to have grabbed the human instead of the fox, because they're imbeciles. At least they got the machine. Speaking of, look at it! So shiny, so avant-garde (it was not), so... unfinished. I'll call it "Mr. Atomizer", like my Mr. Coffee. In fact, it's inspired my new name, the Atom Meister! Speaking of atoms, this "Tom" fellow, who I didn't want but I guess we get anyway, will have his reduced to a miniature size, shrinking him too. Have fun!"

"No!" Sonic yelled. Sadly, he was restrained by two of the bulking men who grabbed Tom with the aid of muscles. He started kicking, but his low-power charge was no match for these guys. His eyes started to turn electric blue as he charged his power, but too little too late.

"Once I pull this lever, he will be my tiny little experiment to deal with as I choose. The question is what all can I do with him? We'll figure it out momentarily."

"You can't! I need him!"

As if the Atom Meister would care. It was too late; the machine was too exciting for him not to deal with. With the click of a light switch and a giggle, a loud humming sound echoed onto the walls and bounced everywhere. Sonic could only look at Tom momentarily as all went white and then all went black.

As Sonic flicked his eyes open, he saw sideways concrete. No, that can’t be right. It wasn’t; he was laying on concrete. He had been locked up in a little jail cell, with a door and wooden bench hooked to the wall by chains and everything. The ceiling had growths of moss, and the entire place was bitter and cold. Not as bitter as what he was about to be served, though, as right outside of his cell he saw none other than Tom, but Sonic’s worst nightmare had come true: he was in a tupperware with tiny holes poked in the top like an insect captured by a curious child. Sonic then processed the situation; he had failed to stop the Atom Meister from shrinking Tom, and now he had Tom in a plastic cell where he was helpless. At this time, the Atom Meister walked by and took a look at Sonic. His face had lost any energy or positivity. In the doctor’s typical fashion, he chose this time to make Sonic feel worse about his loss in the battle for Tom, to just pour a bit of salt into the wound if you will.

“How disappointing. You failed to save your beloved father, and now here he is in the kind of container you put leftovers in. Despite all of the foolishness involved on my end, you still failed on yours. How? Because you are a failure, a disappointment. I don’t even know why you came. Should’ve brought friends or something. You know what? I should let you reflect on this, say your goodbyes to Tom. I’ll put him” he scooted the tupperware closer to Sonic but not quite within reach, “right here. Have fun!” He walked away, cackling and mumbling about Sonic under his breath for dramatic effect.

Tom felt horrible. His son had been humiliated and now he was in a vulnerable position. As Sonic hung his head and began to sob, Tom said,

“Don’t worry, Sonic. We can still get out of this. Don’t lose hope. That’s what the Atom Meister wants; he wants you to lose hope. He wants to crush you emotionally. You have to find some hope, some confidence. Don’t let this be the end.”

Sonic let his words circle in his head for a while. The Meister’s words battled Tom’s for headspace and focus, fighting over who would win over Sonic’s head. Eventually, Tom’s beat out the Meister’s and he looked up, a tear streaming down his face.

“You’re right. I can’t give up. We have to stop him abd whatever he’s planning” he said, his voice somewhat broken but more hopeful than sorrowful, “let’s do this”.

But since they had no escape path, a plan they had not. The cell had no windows, the door couldn’t be open nor kicked down. And even if they could, there were also security cameras; any plan would be foiled quickly. There had to be some silver lining, something lacking that would enable them to do SOMETHING.

That silver lining was made clear to Tom very quickly; there were no security guards at the cells, only at the end of the hall. They weren’t interested in keeping the prisoners in, but rather their accomplices out. When the ventilation started and a loud hum filled the hall, Tom slammed his minuscule body against the plastic wall of the Tupperware. The push caused Tom to slide closer to Sonic, but not quite close enough. He ran to the back and then forward and slammed the wall again with his shoulder, which gave him just enough momentum to where Sonic could reach the Tupperware. Sonic, realizing what Tom did, used two fingers to hold open the lid as Tom jumped and climbed over the lip of the Tupperware wall, then falling onto the concrete floor, making a light slap sound. Sitting back up, he quickly slid through the bars and hopped into the palm of Sonic, who then lifted him up slowly to his face. Sonic then turned around so that the cameras couldn’t see Tom anymore.

“Well, now what? I can’t hide you anywhere, and if the Atom Missy comes over and finds you out, we’ll be in huge trouble!” Sonic asked frantically, his eyes darting around in search of a sign of danger. Then, the sound of a spin dash emulated from the direction of the guards, giving Sonic newfound relief, relief that they had an exit plan.

*****************************************************************

Alright, we know that came out of nowhere, and we apologize. Let’s back up and see what happened:

Tails and Knuckles, if you recall, had been left behind to ride the ATV to Sonic’s location that Tails was tracking with his GPS, but it wasn’t running at the moment. The engine was seemingly locked up, and turning over the key seemingly did nothing.

“Knuckles, can you see if you can remove the engine for me?” Tails asked, his tone of voice indicating a plan.

“Alright” Knuckles responded in a monotone voice, walking over to where the ATV sat. Bending down, he grabbed both sides of the engine with his meaty claws and ripping it right out, leaving behind scraps of pipes. Quickly, Tails went to the scrap of parts he had been using to make the atom reducer, and picked out two parts: a large washing machine motor and some wires from a VCR. With some soldering, welding, and budging, within the hour they had replaced the engine with the motor. The only issue was battery life. Hopefully, they could make it.

One thing though we have haven’t addressed is why Tails didn’t just fly Knuckles there, and here’s where we mention something important: Tails scratched one of his tails the previous week. The atom reducer required some wire cutting with a knife, and while Tails cut some wires, his tail crept towards it unknowing and managed to get cut, so flight was unavailable when it was needed most.

But they didn’t need it. The ATV rolled and therefore with Knuckles at the helm and Tails tracking their destination, they drove it into the woods rolled on through the woods, bumping and bouncing until they made their way to the highway. At the 2-lane highway, a blue Ford got stuck behind them, as did the red Dodge behind him, and then the next car, and then the next car, and the next car and the next car. The afternoon was filled with the sounds of honking and angry shouting of obscenities from drivers slowly but surely making their way to their destinations. Knuckles drove somewhat erratically, so Tails had to hold on to his shoulders tight as to not fall off. As the road stretched before them, Tails and Knuckles began to get impatient and they considered the task impossible. Thankfully, around then is when they pulled to the right into the road that lead them to Disruption Corporation. Hopping off, they ran towards the door, which had never been closed behind Sonic, and found some soldiers waiting. Knuckles made quick work of them, such quick work that details are unnecessary; just know they got pummeled. Making their way towards the elevator, they pressed every basement level in search of Sonic.

The first level lead to a sauna, the second to a bar, but the third lead to the prison cells and 2 guards who spotted them and dashed towards them. Knuckles knocked the lights out of the first with a nice punch while Tails wrapped his good tail around the second’s leg and swang him into the wall.

*****************************************************************

We caught up, let’s head back to the other perspective. Sonic and Tom were pleased to see the other boys at their aid. Knuckles ripped the door straight off the cell and the two entered.

“Oh no, they used my invention on Tom. Hopefully we can fix this once we get home!” Tails remarked.

“It’s alright. Glad you guys made it!” Sonic replied.

“Now we need to get me out of here and dash home so we can plan our next steps” Tom interjected. At the moment, transport seemed difficult, but Sonic planned on just holding Tom the entire way. He did it for the turtle, so Tom would be fine. As long as they weren’t interrupted, storage would be unnecessary. Just then, they were interrupted by the footsteps down the hall. The Atom Meister was on his way.

“Sonic!” Tails whispered. “We need to hide Tom so he can’t take him back!”

But a quick look around revealed no hiding spot, so Sonic froze. The footsteps echoed louder and louder in his head, until eventually he came up with a plan. He knew neither him nor Tom would enjoy this, but it was seemingly his only option. Remembering Tails’s comments about what the shrinking would do to a human, he quickly uttered his plan.

“Tom, this is going to sound really gross, but to get you out, I need to… swallow you” he whispered. Tom shook his head in denial.

“It’s the only hiding place we have, and the shrinking should keep you safe!” Tails added, trying to help convince Tom, who clearly was shocked. This was insane! The thought of being stored within the guts of another living being, let alone his SON, was one that could only come from the mind of a lunatic, of a hungry person. The option presented was to be eaten, like food, hidden away with no further thought. And yet, right here, right now, it was somehow necessary to be eaten, a singular solution to a messy problem. He had no time. In heavy reluctance, he agreed.

Sonic was also heavily conflicted about this, but he had no other choice besides being caught. Shakily, he opened his mouth and stuck his slimy tongue out in range for Tom to climb onto. The sight was something he never expected to see in his lifetime: the near-uncanny teeth shining in his face, the healthy pink of the mouth, and his throat, instinctually flexing in anticipation of its next meal. Placing his left hand upon the tongue, Tom somewhat recoiled but placed his right hand on too, with less recoil. He climbed his way onto the tongue and sat in the small pool of saliva that had formed. Slowly, Sonic clicked his mouth shut.

This was an odd sensation for both of them. For Tom, he was in the hot, humid, fleshy maw of someone so much bigger and more powerful than him. Every tongue twitch of both anticipation and fear was obvious and could be felt below him. For Sonic, he had a living, breathing thing on his tongue. Someone he trusted and had previously been cared for was now his responsibility and was entirely within his mercy. Despite the power split, Sonic took extreme care covering him in the slime, keeping Tom away from the teeth that could easily cut him. As the footsteps of the Atom Meister got closer, panic set in. Sonic quickly produced another pool of saliva, shuffled Tom back with his tongue, tilted his head and gulped, hard. A gasp emitted from Tails as he witnessed Sonic’s Adam’s apple move and realized that Sonic had just gulped Tom down with ease, the plan was in motion. Within, Tom yelled as he fell with the liquids headfirst into the flexing throat that gripped him and dragged him past the uvula and epiglottis down, down into the core of the hedgehog.

“How is this possible?!”

These were the words the Atom Meister asked in disbelief as he looked apon the scene in front of him: the tiny man he had imprisoned was nowhere to be seen, and the blue rodent was surrounded by other rodents, red and yellow. His guards had been knocked out.

“Honestly, I’m more embarrassed than angry, so I’ll offer mercy. Tell me where the tiny Tom went, and I won’t shrink you all and toss you into a wasp nest. Fair? I think so”

What he wasn’t aware of, though, was that Tom was right in front of him, just hidden away. As Tom slid down the esophagus, he contemplated his choices thus far. He had allowed Tails to make his atom reduction garbage, chosen to use the door closest to the home invaders, and where had this led him? To the innards of a blue alien hedgehog he had taken in. After what seemed like an eternity, the sphincter opened and he was dropped unceremoniously into the stomach.

This place sucked. It was a pitch black swamp filled with acid and the smell of death. The liquid was stagnant and chunky, which was just a nightmare really. Perhaps the worst part was the temperature: just unbearably hot and unliveable. This was what he imagined Texas felt like. At this moment, he’d preferred to be experimented on by the Atom Meister rather than be in this chamber of flesh and liquids, in the inner chamber where he didn’t belong.

The stomach itself didn’t recognize this, and let more acids seep in, acids that had no effect on the reduced atoms. Tom wondered if Sonic had been aware of this fact or if he had just recklessly risked his life, had eaten him without knowing if he would be treated as such by his body. The stomach churned around him, unaware it wasn’t doing anything worthwhile.

Meanwhile, the boys were obviously not about to reveal Tom’s hiding place. It would compromise everything.

“The location of the tiny man is a secret we intend to uphold” Knuckles told the Meister. The Meister rolled his eyes so hard he got somewhat dizzy.

“Figures. Welp, enjoy torture” he replied. “GUARDS! GRAB THESE FOOLS!”

Crickets. His entire security detail had been knocked out in these two battles. Perhaps he needed more, but at this rate, Disruption Corporation would have him sacked for his utter failure. Might as well spite them.

“Great. Welp, I’m losing my job. My career, my dignity, my life has been ruined because you three managed to sweep away my entire security detail. They’re-“

Two soldiers, limping, took this time to enter the scene, shooting a shot at Sonic who of course dodged it. Much to the dismay of the Atom Meister, who stood away rooting for them, this battle wouldn’t last long. The boys dashed out of the cell and beat the crap out of the two soldiers, Knuckles punching, Tails doing something meaningful, and Sonic quickly tying their belts together and around them to restrain them.

The Meister could only simply say, “Well color me impressed. Bye!” as he ran off to the stairs. Knuckles ran after him, dashing up the stairs and keeping up. The Meister had panic on his face and sweated harder with each quick step, doing everything his body would let him to get the hell out of Dodge. With determination in his eyes he strided long and hard, catching up with the Meister down the hallway and tackling him to the brown carpet like a football player. Sonic caught up with them and so did Tails. The three dragged his big body to the machine, where he was shrunk and imprisoned in the same Tupperware Tom resided in 10 minutes ago.

“You can’t do this to me! This was my invention and now you’re turning it against me!”

“Actually, sir, that’s my invention, and it was your thievery of my things that turned against you”

“THAT’S MEISTER TO YOU, YOU PETULANT ROACH!”

That though, as Tails pointed out, was a title that was given to someone who earned respect, which he certainly had not. Tails calling him sir was a courtesy, a nice gesture that was undeserved. Popping in now was Maddie. She checked Tom’s location and had found his icon in the middle of the woods.

“What on Earth is going on in here? Where’s Tom?” She asked, somewhat panicked.

“This man stole Tail’s atom reduction machine and kidnapped Tom so we had to get him and stop this guy from using it,” Sonic replied

“Okay, but where is Tom?”

Now this was a question Sonic couldn’t answer, his cheeks beginning to blush under his fur and stuttering.

“Uh-u-u-u”

“He’s in Sonic’s stomach for protection” Tails interjected. This was quite the surprise.

“WHAT? YOU ATE TOM? ALRIGHT, WE’RE HEADING HOME AND YOU’RE COUGHING HIM UP. LET’S GO!” She yelled, shocked.

The boys were unable to transport the machine back home, so Tails destroyed the parts, rendering it useless. Following this, the boys got into the car, suffering from a car ride.

“How could you do that? He could die!”

“Not the way my invention worked” Tails said in defense of Sonic.

“Great, but that’s also, like, extremely gross and disturbing, so not great. Let’s head home and take care of him” she replied, turning up the radio to indicate a desire for a silent car ride the rest of the way until they could get home and retrieve Tom.

Speaking of Tom, how’s he doing? Not great. He’s sitting on the edge of the stomach wall, closed fist under his chin. On the one hand, this is disgusting and he has things to do this afternoon which are going to be impacted by this unless he can take the world’s quickest shower, which he can’t with how much scrubbing he’s going to do. He’s covered in acid and chili dog residue and just so much stuff he doesn’t want to have on him. On the other hand, Sonic had saved him from the Atom Meister’s control, and God only knows where that could’ve gone. This was a hellhole, but a hellhole that kept him safe and secure from malicious no-good villains. He was making peace with this in a way. Besides, it kind of felt like a hot tub in a weird, not-as-good way. Maybe this wasn’t as bad as he thought. He can handle this. Maybe this was… a good thing?

He decided to scratch that last bit out of his mind, but like scratching out text with a single pen line, he was unable to fully do so.

Riding in a stomach sucks.

Who would’ve thought, right? But every little pothole, bump of the car, etc moved Sonic slightly, but tilted his stomach enough to where Tom was slipping and sliding around every once in a while like Eustace in the mouth of the Sand Whale. He was covered not only in stomach juices now, but the slime covering the sides. Sure, it was a safe method of transport, you didn’t have to be too concerned with injury or being spotted by onlookers, but it smelled like death and made you smell bad as a result. It’s like riding in a slip and slide but it’s 90° outside and instead of water, it’s foul acids. Just terrible for the rider.

But what about the horse? Sonic could feel this motion, and it made him feel sick with every movement of the car and Tom as a result. Maybe this would make him vomit Tom back up.

“Sonic, please try and wait until we get home. I just cleaned out the car” Maddie told Sonic, her voice calmer but still somewhat frantic. Can you blame her? Her husband had been eaten alive by their adopted son, was stewing in guts, and despite what Tails had told her about his safety, something was still nagging at her, trying to convince her of the contrary. Her adrenaline did more than just make her mind race, though; her driving somewhat suffered as well. While she attempted to maintain proper etiquette, at least one red light was ran and blinkers weren’t always activated in a timely manner. At the stop sign on Baker Street, she ended up having to slam her brakes as she had missed the stop sign. Silently scolding herself for being foolish. She took a right towards their street, relieved that they were almost home. Relived that soon, Tom would be safe and the boys wouldn’t be so stressed.

Maddie pulled into her driveway slowly as to not hit the trash cans. Once the car had eased to a halt, she shifted into park and pressed the start button on her car to shut it off, the pistons no longer firing and the fan slowing down towards silence. The boys, squished in the backseat, filed out, Sonic and Tails from their right, Knuckles from his left. Maddie stepped out after unbuckling and made her way towards Sonic, who was idly standing with his head tilted downward somewhat.

“Alright, you and I are headed to the kitchen sink”

Maddie gripped Sonic’s hand and the two made their way up the steps into the front door, with Tails and Knuckles behind. Making their way to the kitchen, Sonic stepped upon the step stool and peered down into the sink. Maddie, prepared, put the stopper into the garbage disposal to prevent Tom from going down there. If only Pat Kramer had been so fortunate, the entire third act of that movie wouldn’t have happened. Sonic took a second, puzzled at Maddie’s crossed arms next to him. It took him a minute to realize the expectation: Maddie wanted him to throw Tom back up, thereby releasing him from his fleshy cage. Taking a deep breath, he stuck his pointer and middle fingers down his throat, causing a heavy gag. Repeating the motion caused him to spit up some bile into the sink, but nothing major. Third times the charm? Taking yet another deep breath, he stuck those fingers down and out from the depths of his core came liquidy orange vomit, and directly in the middle of the splatter was Tom, even more grossed out than before, attempting to sit up but not stand just yet. He was decently dizzy from the sudden expulsion.

“That was the grossest thing I’ve ever done” Tom remarked nonchalantly.

“Tom! Are you alright?” Maddie asked.

“Yeah, just a bit freaked out and somewhat dizzy.

She leaned over Sonic, who was on his knees recuperating from the energy-heavy event, and turned on the water to just a sprinkle to wash Tom off. She gave him a drop of Dawn dish soap bubble and he used it to wash himself somewhat, scrubbing fully clothed due to the presence of children in the room. Once he wasn’t covered in any unclean liquids, she lifted him gently onto a hand towel, which he used to dry himself. Cleanliness was something he had dearly missed for the last 30 minutes, and he was happy to have it back.

He was unfortunately going to have to be late to work, but hopefully he wouldn’t be in too much trouble for it; he’d never been late once before. Sonic was still drained from vomiting, but he was glad that he wouldn’t have to swallow another living being anytime soon. The experience wasn’t as enjoyable as the movies had made it up to be. Tails and Knuckles were also glad to be back home and that they’d never have to drive that stupid ATV again.

Now, even with the resolution of the problem and everyone being happy with the end of the Atom Meister’s drama, there was still a glaring issue, something that hadn’t quite been addressed. Nobody really had a grasp on what, but it slowly seeped into their minds, filling their heads and choking out the relief. Slowly, everyone turned to Tails for a moment and after what felt like ages, Tom broke the pregnant silence, airing the thought everyone had been infected with.

“So uh, Tails, how do I get back to regular size?”