spies after dark

As a general excuse for vore stuff in more like, modern-ish settings, I’ve been toying with the idea of there being a specific gene found in maybe 20-30% of the human population (inspired in part by the coma gene in the PHM book) that allows the affected individual to shrink both themself and others and to have some amount of measured control over certain internal functions. The shrinking process itself also accounts for stuff like ability to process the 15% or so oxygen that’s generally in the stomach and density based acid resistance. The how and why of this gene’s evolutionary development is still very much debated by the scientific community, and as of the time PHM takes place its purpose still widely unknown. 

So! As you might have guessed. I have given this gene to Ryland because of course I have. It’s kinda viewed as like, an odd quirk like light sensitive sneezing or hyper mobility. Interesting and maybe a cool party trick, but also not horribly noteworthy outside of maybe a science class demonstration. The government is fully aware he’s got it since it is a useful ability, but there’s not a lot of reason for Mr Dr. Grace to use it, so it’s mostly just a bit of extra paperwork. (I’m tempted to let him grow too, but that would be a whole other can of worms lol)

Ryland probably sees himself as more prey aligned, but he’s an even switch to me who doesn’t exactly mind being on the pred end of things either. The trouble is finding someone he’d be close enough to do that with. He’s threatened to eat someone once or twice maybe when emotions get high, but it’s not something he’d ever follow through on. More along the lines of calling people names than a real threat. Stratt likely HAS threatened to eat him before, because look, book Stratt is wayy less kind to Grace than her movie counterpart and she would definitely threaten that, but she likely wouldn’t follow through either. The threat alone is enough to scare Grace into cooperating. He’s been known to shrink when startled and that makes dragging him around easy. No eating required. 

Now, I think there is some possibility of Ryland having messed around with his abilities a little with the crew since he did spend quite a bit of time with them, and I think DuBois, Shapiro, and Ilyukhina specifically would be pretty interested in what he can do, especially when it comes to eating people. There’d be lots of curiosity and little experiments and maybe even ‘crew bonding exercises’ if they can manage to talk Yao into participating. 

Either way, Grace does enjoy it. He likes the science of it and it’s fun being so close to people, whether he’s the one eating them or being eaten. Again, it’s not something he does often, but I think it would be something he’d miss for sure once it was something he couldn’t do. 

Also I have gotta confess that the only thought in my head for most of the movie was just “I have never seen a man more edible in my life. Being eaten would so fix him” so do with that what you will. 

Simon is a little tricker to work with tbh because there’s no easy way I could give him a shifter anything without it being exploited by the COI. But in my heart. He’s also a switch. Like, pred leaning but in the sense of that’s his preference, while in reality he’s a bit more preyish. 

I want to give him the same gene Grace has. Something almost no one has after the Quiet Rapture. Heck, he might be the only one left with it because of how rare it is and how few people there are anymore. Regardless, I don’t think many people, if any, know he has it. It’s a very tightly kept secret on his part, and it’s not something that could be triggered emotionally because of how tight a lid he keeps on himself. Sure he’s got outbursts and is even capable of being shockingly vulnerable at times (like admitting when he’s scared, which genuinely surprised me), but emotion triggered shifts could be life threatening, so those are kept veryyy contained. He’s never really been presented with the opportunity to freely use his shifting abilities either, so I think they’re honestly not even in the forefront of his mind. 

I really love your analysis of him as a desperate prey animal because he does feel a bit like that to me too. He’s dangerous and maybe even hostile, not because he wants to be, but because he’s cornered and feels like he has no choice other than to lash out and hurt others before they can hurt him. And despite all of that, he still seems to care a lot about people and feel a lot of guilt over the resulting hurt he causes. Physical hurt that is. I’m not sure how much he cares about emotional hurt honestly. Probably not much. 

Anyways, I’ve been toying a lot with the concept of Simon pulled up out of the blood last minute, mutated but alive, and having gained the ability to absorb and process radiation after his extended exposure. Something about the blood giving him a way to survive the definite radiation poisoning he’d have gotten otherwise lol. I’m not sure how everything would go exactly, but I’m so fascinated by the concept of him being used as like…a cure for the whole camera incident. Forced to swallow a person (probably Jack tbh, tho I think Ava and David got hit too) and deal with the invasive wrongness of it all because it’s what they need him to do to reverse the damage he did. It’s life or death because of how badly irradiated Jack is, and once again, Simon doesn’t get a say. He’s gone from convict to useful tool, and it’s not much of an improvement. At least he’s not getting put back in the ocean. 

Now, putting Simon and Grace together definitely wouldn’t result in a speedy bonding process. Would probably take months for Simon to be comfortable with casual physical contact, let alone participating in whatever you wanna call the uh, eat people thing. But Grace…Grace craves it. He won’t talk about it a lot unless asked, but he does sincerely miss the feeling of being so close to another person, and the desire to curl up and hide inside someone has only been growing the whole time he’s been in space. It’s a little gross sure he’ll concede that, but it’s also secure; something he desperately needs. Simon would also benefit from eating someone of his own volition too I think. It puts him in a vulnerable position yes, but one he’s still very much in control of, and I think that would be good. He’d know it’s something Grace wants, but he’s also not being pressured into anything. Ryland probably doesn’t even thinks Simon would ever indulge him anyways, so the first time Simon offers…it’s a pretty big thing for both of them. Of course, Simon would for sure try and downplay the significance, but I don’t think Grace would mind that. Gives him a little more space for his own nervous rambling anyways since Simon isn’t much of a talker. 

Now. Do I think they’d switch roles eventually? Yes. Do I think it would take a WHILE to get to that point? Also yes. Grace doesn’t wanna risk his insides getting shredded and Simon isn’t the biggest fan of uh, hot, dark, enclosed spaces for. Obvious reasons. But they would get comfortable enough to try and even like it I think. Maybe it wouldn’t be the most common thing for either of them, but it’s not bad either. A nice change of pace. 

A mutated radiation eater Simon being fished out and used by the coi to cure radiation poisoning is PEAK unwilling pred. Literally continues to be a tool for a Greater Good when all he wants is to live.

He's starved before—the Consolidation wouldn't feed anyone who didn't work. He held out a week before giving in, too proud to debase himself but too desperate to survive to commit. A single mouthful won't fix the trembling weakness in his limbs, but it would ease the pain enough for him to stand. Enough to maybe, maybe get back in contact with the ship, beg them to bring him back up—he's done, he's not going back down, they can throw him in a cell to rot until the last stations fall apart because this isn't worth it.

"I'm sorry." His voice is hoarse, and the feeling of something in his stomach makes him nauseous. "I'm sorry- but it was either this or both of us die."

He pushes to his feet, hand on the wall for balance as he trudges back towards the console. Shudders at the feeling of movement, and tries not to gag at the sudden fireworks it sends down his spine. It should be nauseating. It shouldn't feel good.

He eats quickly, like he usually does, a habit born of scarcity and knowing what starvation feels like. But halfway through he pauses. Breaks a small piece off of the ration bar. Clears his throat—they startle at the sound.

"... Here." Tossing it lightly in their direction, he winces as they flinch, shoving themself against the wall like they could melt into it if only they tried hard enough. "I-"

It's not enough. Nothing would ever be enough to make up for what he did. But it got him out alive—got them both out alive. Somehow.

So instead he looks away from them, hunching his shoulders as he finishes eating. Tucks his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around himself. The room is cold, far colder than the sub cabin had been, and he's still drenched in sweat.

Shit, if he's cold, then-

He doesn't move, but his eyes flick towards them. They've eaten some of the piece he'd given them at least, but it had been bigger than their head. And they're shaking, badly enough he can see it from this distance.

Fuck.

Inhaling sharply, he uncurls himself from his huddle. It's not like there's any blankets or anything, and being too cold can be dangerous. He's the only source of heat in here right now.

They freeze when he moves. Press themself further back into the cold steel of the corner as he reaches for them, completely still as if it'll hide them.

They only start to struggle when he scoops them up, before letting out a sharp yelp as his thumb brushes their side.

He goes still, immediately lifting any pressure he might've put on them—before a sudden jolt of nausea hits him.

Their shirt had ridden up some from their movements, and he can see dark bruises in the shape of fingerprints on their skin.

He already knows they'll match his own hand perfectly.

A strangled whine pulls him out of his silent contemplation. They're staring at him, eyes wide in terror and utterly still.

"I'm not-" He starts, before cutting himself off.

Not what? Not going to hurt them? He'd already done that.

"... You looked cold." Somehow that makes them go even more still, tiny body completely rigid and hardly even breathing. He's never been good at this—being comforting, being gentle. Hands wrapped too tight around the handle of a blade to offer any affectionate touch.

But he tries. Brushing his thumb so, so carefully against their shoulder as he pulls them close, cups his hands to his chest and curls around them.

They shudder, squirming for a moment, before letting out a little whine and slumping into his hold.

"... I'm sorry. For-" It's too much to even put into words. Makes him nauseous, but he's loathe to lose the first truly filling meal he's had in years.

He's starved before—the Consolidation wouldn't feed anyone who didn't work. He held out a week before giving in, too proud to debase himself but too desperate to survive to commit. A single mouthful won't fix the trembling weakness in his limbs, but it would ease the pain enough for him to stand. Enough to maybe, maybe get back in contact with the ship, beg them to bring him back up—he's done, he's not going back down, they can throw him in a cell to rot until the last stations fall apart because this isn't worth it.

"I'm sorry." His voice is hoarse, and the feeling of something in his stomach makes him nauseous. "I'm sorry- but it was either this or both of us die."

He pushes to his feet, hand on the wall for balance as he trudges back towards the console. Shudders at the feeling of movement, and tries not to gag at the sudden fireworks it sends down his spine. It should be nauseating. It shouldn't feel good.

He eats quickly, like he usually does, a habit born of scarcity and knowing what starvation feels like. But halfway through he pauses. Breaks a small piece off of the ration bar. Clears his throat—they startle at the sound.

"... Here." Tossing it lightly in their direction, he winces as they flinch, shoving themself against the wall like they could melt into it if only they tried hard enough. "I-"

It's not enough. Nothing would ever be enough to make up for what he did. But it got him out alive—got them both out alive. Somehow.

So instead he looks away from them, hunching his shoulders as he finishes eating. Tucks his knees to his chest and wraps his arms around himself. The room is cold, far colder than the sub cabin had been, and he's still drenched in sweat.

Shit, if he's cold, then-

He doesn't move, but his eyes flick towards them. They've eaten some of the piece he'd given them at least, but it had been bigger than their head. And they're shaking, badly enough he can see it from this distance.

Fuck.

Inhaling sharply, he uncurls himself from his huddle. It's not like there's any blankets or anything, and being too cold can be dangerous. He's the only source of heat in here right now.

They freeze when he moves. Press themself further back into the cold steel of the corner as he reaches for them, completely still as if it'll hide them.

They only start to struggle when he scoops them up, before letting out a sharp yelp as his thumb brushes their side.

He goes still, immediately lifting any pressure he might've put on them—before a sudden jolt of nausea hits him.

Their shirt had ridden up some from their movements, and he can see dark bruises in the shape of fingerprints on their skin.

He already knows they'll match his own hand perfectly.

A strangled whine pulls him out of his silent contemplation. They're staring at him, eyes wide in terror and utterly still.

"I'm not-" He starts, before cutting himself off.

Not what? Not going to hurt them? He'd already done that.

"... You looked cold." Somehow that makes them go even more still, tiny body completely rigid and hardly even breathing. He's never been good at this—being comforting, being gentle. Hands wrapped too tight around the handle of a blade to offer any affectionate touch.

But he tries. Brushing his thumb so, so carefully against their shoulder as he pulls them close, cups his hands to his chest and curls around them.

They shudder, squirming for a moment, before letting out a little whine and slumping into his hold.

"... I'm sorry. For-" It's too much to even put into words. Makes him nauseous, but he's loathe to lose the first truly filling meal he's had in years.