#nomvember2025

The breeze lovingly blows past me as I sit down, legs splayed across the picnic blanket. I look over at my date, unable to take my eyes off of his soft pink lips that compliment both his acorn-brown skin and smooth black hair. He takes my own hand and kisses it at the fingertips, sending tingles down my spine.

“You haven’t changed, have you?” he teases, scratching my bronze-toned neck.

“Nope!” I confirm, crawling towards his loving arms. “Sorry to trouble you, but-”

“No worries,” he assures, ruffling through my auburn curly hair. His fingers just linger a bit more around my chin, his other hand slowly caressing my back. “You’re still as lovely as the day we separated. I couldn’t bear to leave you alone on a day like this.”

“That’s, um, thanks.” I can only stammer at the compliment, knowing how much he viewed me. It wasn’t fair for him to just confess his feelings on the last day before he moved away from our high school, going across the country to some other school. To be fair, I had a boyfriend at the time – or at least, I did up until I caught him cheating on me with another man. Thus started an endless spree of men who I’d either find too boring, too race-fetishy, too controlling, or some issue. 

“I always wondered,” he admitted, “What are you doing right now?”

“Nothing much,” I admit. “Just working as a game designer, you know how it is. Awful crunch times, the usual.”

“Oof,” he winces. “Seems worse than my magic gig, somehow.”

“Magic?” I ask, crawling atop him. “You can do magic?” I excitedly add.

“Uhh, yeah!” he answers, seeming a bit flattered by my sudden burst of energy. He reaches into his pocket before pulling out a deck of cards. “Wow, you didn’t need to immediately sour your face,” he adds.

“Because it’s the worst trick ever,” I state. “Seriously? I know you’re not this boring, so-”

“I’m not,” he replies calmly. “I just want a game. We’ll play one game of poker.

“Five-card draw?” I propose.

“Exactly. If I win, you get to be the participant of our little trick.”

“And if you lose?”

“Well, then you get to command me to do anything you want.”

“Like robbing a bank?”

“Within reason,” he sighs, dropping the tone for a second. He coughs before returning to his showman smile. Extending a hand, he asks “Well?”

“Deal,” I reply, shaking back.

“Good.” He deals me five cards, then himself. “And let’s use these as chips,”  taking some coins from his pocket. “Each of us get only five.”

“Mhm,” I answer, looking over my hand. 

Much to my surprise, it’s a full house – three 10s and two Kings. It’s the fourth-best hand possible, yet there’s always the chance that he has something like four Aces, or even four Twos. 

“One chip,” he answers, moving a single dime to the center. It’s the minimum needed of course – otherwise, the game would be endless.

“All in,” I reply, confident in this hand. 

“All in,” he returns with his own confidence. For a moment, I look back at my hand. Surely he knows I wouldn’t gamble everything unless I could, right? I had expected him to fold, but what if he really does have a better hand?

“I’ll exchange,” I start.

“Guess we are playing by house rules,” he states, putting his hand to his mouth. I take out the two Kings and swap them for the top two cards that are… oddly sticky? Not much, but it’s a bit. I flip them over and…

A 2 and a 7.

“Ah shit,” I sigh, showing my hand.

“Oh my,” he admits, showing his own hand; a simple straight starting with an Ace.

“If I hadn’t succumbed to my own greed,” I mumble.

“What if I told you I knew what cards you had?” he asserts with a playful grin.

I merely roll my eyes.

“Just look inside,” he adds, gesturing to his mouth as he opens wide. I lower my head and look up at the roof of it, narrowing my eyes. I keep looking, the mouth growing larger as I keep staring for anything out of place.

A flash of red crosses my eyes, getting me to notice an Ace of hearts right at the top of the roof of his mouth. “How in the world did you manage to fit it inside your mouth?”

“Want to see?” he asks, voice now a bit louder. I stumble back, only to be caught by a hand. Perhaps it’s better to phrase this better; my whole body is caught by a hand. I look down, noticing that the ground went from a soft blanket to his softer hand. While I’m only slightly larger than his hand, I’m still small enough for him to lift by the scruff of my jacket and hold above his head. “See?” he smirks. “I told you I can do magic.”

“Huh,” I admit, some mixture of amused and curious. “You know, this raises so many questions.”

“Then we’ll take our time,” he responds. “Though, just relax for this next part, will you?”

“Sure?” I answer hesitantly. Taking this as a ‘yes’, he opens his mouth wide. “Hang on-”

“Too late!” I’m dropped straight into his mouth, feeling him swallow me instantly. My jacket and pants get drenched in saliva as I travel all the way down his throat. I curl up against the warm stomach walls, the acid only feeling like a mild burn.

A hand is then placed on the stomach – two nervous ones going around. “Pochesi? Pochi?!”

“I’m fine,” I answer, looking up to notice a card falling down. “This certainly is one hell of a magic trick-”

“It wasn’t part of the plan!” he stammers. “I intended to catch you with my lips, not - urgh, whatever that was?”

“Are you… panicked?”

“YES?!”

“Then don’t be,” I answer. “Besides, you’ve got some magic,” I answer. “Also, I need to sleep.”

“Wha- don’t be ridiculous!”

“Do you have anti-acid spells?”

“Yes, but-”

“Good, I’m sleeping. I need some rest after yesterday,” I add, yawning to make my point clear.

“...Ok.”

“Also let’s do this again sometime,” I say as I drift off to sleep.

I again queue up the TV; it was a bit expensive, but I managed to replace it. I mean, not like it matters since I’m still using rich people’s money, but it’s nice for a woman to have a budget.

“Where are you?” I ask aloud as my stomach growls. I can’t help but poke it, asking, “Aww, aren’t you hungry for Cicada too?” He’s about an hour late, so maybe he’s out doing boring hero stuff.

“This just in,” the crusty newscaster says, “We’re currently witnessing a brawl between two metas.” 

“Ehh, at least this soap opera will be entertaining,” I monologue.

“Apparently, it’s hero Cicada vs. Lethashot.” Sorry, my Cicada?

I sit right up, now deadset on this.

“Yes, from what he here, he’s fighting for his life while significantly bleeding.” And these bastards aren’t doing anything to help him?!

Oh, forget this.

I storm out of my home, donning my yellow dress and mask quickly as I fly through the air. “You better not be dead,” I grunt as I keep flying, a tinge of something more lingering within my heart. It takes me mere moments to arrive, seeing Cicada left on the ground, profusely bleeding; yet, he’s still standing, equipped with his personal noisemakers.

Opposing him is a cracker-colored marksman with a rifle, aimed right at him. ‘Lethashot’, or so I’ve heard. He’s made a quick reputation of just shooting all around the place, executing his own form of justice.

“You monster,” Lethashot coldly states, still not seeing me observing the scene.

“For what?” Cicada coughs, slowly getting back up. “Protecting everyone?”

“Saving those villains,” he replies. “All of them, they don’t deserve a second chance.”

“Maybe,” he answers. “But, neither of us get to take that judgement in our own hands.”

“Then you’ll die for it.” He raises his gun; without thinking, I raise my hand as the gun discharges. Cicada winces, expecting a bullet clean through the head. 

Except it never comes; I float down at the scene, glaring at this predator with a true predator’s glare. 

“I personally don’t care for your philosophy,” I admit, “But this man, he’s my plaything. You don’t get to touch him.” 

“Hisolo?” Cicada asks.

“Shush now,” I reply, freezing Lethashot in place for a moment. His eyes dart around, stuck into a body unable to move, unable to talk. I look down at Cicada, still battered and bruised, but alive.

“There are still people-”

“Fine,” I reply, flicking my hand that suspends the rickety building in place. “Now, for you.” I open my mouth wide, gulping his head down. The crowd gasps, but I ignore their pleas: I swallow down this man, his sweat mixing with the blood as his own body refuses to fight against my power, against all of this. I’d normally take longer to savor this, but I don’t have the luxury of time. Still, he does remain sweet, if a bit salty; like roasted walnuts, I suppose.

I let out a long exhale, looking at the human-shaped mass now contained within myself. The crowd again murmurs among themselves, wondering just what kind of a creature I am. 

It’s time to remind them that I am one to be feared.

I let go of my control over Lethashot, watching him scramble as he and his gun fall onto the floor. “Get up,” I command. 

“Hragh!” he yells, throwing a used magazine at me. I don’t move, watching it slow down as it approaches me before just stopping; freezing in midair. Lethashot doesn’t notice as he reloads his weapon, hastily adding a new magazine.

“Did you, or that silly organization, ever figure out what my powers were?” I ask.

“Of course,” he replies, aiming the gun at me. “Freezing stuff.”

“Wrong.” I snap my fingers, the gun heating up before the barrel simply melts, turning the precision weapon into nothing more than scrap. As if to prove my point, the gun clicks uselessly a few times. “It’s amplification. More specifically, it allows me to simply ‘increase’ the amount of something. Air particles, heat… or perhaps something as simple as your heart rate."

“What are-” they’re the last words he say before he begins to reach at his chest, the internal organ inside continuing to beat faster and faster, out of his control.

“Have fun with heart failure,” I coldly reply as I feel it just stop. He keels over, collapsing with a clank from all his armor.

“Is he…”

“No,” I answer Cicada, finally addressing my delicious prey. “He’s alive. Much to my own misunderstanding on what his relevance is.” His heart merely stopped, just for a brief moment; enough to cause some damage, I think. “Anyhow… relax.”

“There are still people in danger-”

“Ack, if they haven’t left it by now, then they’re idiots. Besides, you’ve obviously done the hard work of rescuing the most vulnerable first. Though, you have your own wounds.” I hold him in place, my stomach acids seeming to slosh over him as he sighs not in agony, but relief; quiet relief as the aching in his bones continue to fade.

“It seems potent,” he comments.

“Of course it would be,” I answer. “It’s far more effective the closer you are to me.”

“Miss?” a girl asks, walking up to me. I look over this cute little one with an afro. “Did you eat that man?”

“So what if I did?” I ask, leaning down to her level. “There are creatures who eat others… like little kids.” 

“Hisolo, don’t tease the child.”

“Cool, can you teach me?”

“What,” me and Cicada say in unison. 

“Rebecca!” a concerned dad says, shielding me from his child who continues to look at me with obvious concern.

“Dad, she’s cool!”

“She’s dangerous.”

“He’s right,” I admit. “Dangerous people can do good things once in a while. Believe me, I’d know.”

“Mr. Cicada will be ok, right?”

“Of course,” I answer. “Just rest your sorry ass down somewhere and let the grown ups handle this.”

“Ok!”

The duo walks off, oddly uncaring about my comment.

“Hisolo, please don’t swear around kids.”

“What, it’s a public space!”

“Still… thanks.”

“I only did it for you,” I answer.

Still, it’s good to do something nice once in a while; reminds me of why I was a hero.

I idle-mindedly tap my pencil, looking over the plans I’ve written. “Nothing seems right here.”

“What’cha doing?” Echo asks, floating by and wrapping the lower half of her pale ghost form around my waist. “Boring science stuff?”

“Yes,” I sigh, biting my lip to hide how much I enjoy her comfort. (I don't want to give her the satisfaction of teasing me.) “I want to figure out what happens when a soul possesses something. Is it full control? Partial? Can they feel anything?”

“Don’t you have that golem?”

“Homunculi,” I correct. “And her name is Sirfris. She can’t fully feel through her limbs, but she’s just one. I need a larger sample size, but unfortunately, we don’t have enough ghosts.”

“And just how will drawing out in your notebook help with that?”

“They’re just sketches for automata,” I answer. “But each time I keep looking into them, and adding those parts to Sirfris, they just feel like they have no feeling.”

“What about something softer?” Echo proposes. “We’ve got a couple of spare plushies from the princess.”

“Perfect!” I answer, getting up. “Time to test the theory if fluffy stuff provides a better touch sensation!” We march our way to the room, widely opening the door to see plushes of all sorts of sizes – some a bit larger than me, others smaller. “So, just pick one to possess then.”

“Roger roger,” Echo says, floating into one of the dolls – a human-sized teddy bear with white fur, still somehow pristine. Now coated with a pale blue aura, it stands on its hind legs like any regular bipedal animal. “Ah, never gets old,” she claims, sighing with some sort of interest.”

“Well, any feeling?” I ask, setting down a toolbox I had brought with me. I touch the palm with a sharp screwdriver, lightly prodding at it. 

The bear merely shakes its head. “Nope, nothing.”

“Tch,” I sigh.

“Well, there is another way to test this.”

“And what would that be?” I ask, turning around.

Only to be met with a large plushy open maw.

“WAIT-” I cry out, only for my head to be covered with darkness. With little effort and a simple flourish, I’m left floundering in the air, legs kicking out. There’s no throat, but the pull of gravity is enough to pull me down the teddy’s throat. I fall face first into some soft plush, light peering out from the worn out seams. I pound at the chest, only to be yanked back and left with pale white stuffing surrounding my body and limbs. “REALLY ECHO?!”

“I dunno what you’re talking about,” she teases, reaching a paw that pushes at the bottom of the chest and raises me up. “I mean, you did walk into this.”

“Yeah,” I scream, “Because I thought you wouldn’t immediately devour me!”

“Well, skill issue,” she answers as I start trying to climb out. However, plush starts pulling down at my dress and drags me back into this not-stomach. “Oh no,” she starts. “You’re staying down here.”

“Ugh,” I groan, even if the stuffing starts to feel like a blanket the way it collects onto my limbs and shoulders. “Just let me out, I have work to do!”

“As fun as this is,” she asserts, “You haven’t slept for what, more than 6 hours?”

“5 actually.”

“Not helping. So, you’re staying here.”

“Ugh,” I groan, crossing my arms. “Fine,” I admit. “I wish this was warmer, but-”

“Oh I can help with that,” Echo answers, the blue aura now stronger around the fluff. 

Before I can blink, I’m smothered by the fluff that overtakes me. It begins to heat as a coil wraps around me, making it all start to feel warm and comforting. Much like Sirfris’s stomach… 

“That’s good,” I admit to my own chagrin.

“See? So just get reasonable sleep, and-”

“Fine,” I sigh. “Just grab me my toolkit. It’s got a pillow in it.”

“Alright then.” Echo moves the bear, each limb slowly moving as it then grabs the toolkit. With another fluid motion, it swallows the kit that then falls down. “There you go.”

“You fool,” I tease, opening it to find some proper Pain Sensors.

“Oh,” she realizes.

I stab a few metal bits into parts of the stomach, waiting for a reaction. The plush pauses, then seeming to look over its arms.

“Echo?”

“Woah, I can… feel,” she answers. “It’s not a strong feeling, but it’s there.”

Plush again starts to wrap around me, even starting to cushion my hair. I slow my breathing, taking the moment to enjoy each slow press, each little bump as my back and stomach are pummelled by so many small specks.

“I can feel you,” she continues, spectral arms now curling around me. “You’re a bit cold, but there.”

“So it did work,” I remark. “That’s good then. We’ll still need more subjects though.”

“And how will you catch them?” she asks, playfully manifesting her face in front of me. 

“Like this!” I answer, opening my mouth wide and clamping down on her spectral head as my teeth find their mark. She struggles as she’s slurped down, the plush falling down as I finish consuming this feisty ghost now pounding at my stomach walls.

“Oh come on!” she cries out.

“So, what have we learned about forcibly consuming someone?” I ask, rubbing over as more tremors start to form.

“That it’s an amazing feeling!” she answers.

“We ask for consent,” I answer, sighing as I open my mouth wide, her spectral form floating out.

“Oh, and what about that plan of capturing ghosts Ms. Ghostbuster? A lot of consent is involved there, isn’t it?”

“Of course I wouldn’t use that,” I scoff. “I’d just politely talk to them, nothing more.”

“Urgh, of course your goody-two-shoes self would do that. The things I’d do to you…”

“Oh?” I prod, smirking as I pull her in the pile of fluff. “Prove it,” I answer. “Prove you’re more bark than bite.”

I sit atop the hill, looking down at the massive mountain ridge below. I let my legs hang off the edge, bones getting weary from the long journey. “It’s nearly the end, isn’t it?” I murmur as seagulls fly off into the distance. They scream incessantly, but still with their own tune. Meanwhile, I’ve been working myself down to the bone just mapping and surveying the whole world. I wonder if they’ve been around as long as I have. I pull out a map and start sketching out the last of this region. This is as good a place as any to sketch out my final moments.

However, before I can blink, a tail coils itself around my waist. .

“Really now.” I demand, groaning. “Why won’t you leave me be?”

Scales slither against the ground, followed by excited hissing and the flitting of a tongue. “You know you can’t get rid of me Vixa,” she answers. 

“Well, once I pass away, you can collect my work and send it back,” I retort to Xevisa. “We’ve had enough of each other for one lifetime, I imagine.”

“I always did wonder,” she admitted, wrapping her green tail shining like peridots gently around my waist and pulling me away from the edge. “What made you want to explore the world?”

“Pure curiosity,” I answer as the sun reflects off my skin. And of course, it’s one that seems to nearly match the tone of rosy brown skin my avid follower has – our only difference being my warmer undertone.

She again combs through my locs with her hands, feeling through the inky black hair. After some point, I never tried to stop her. Besides, it’s oddly adorable when she does that now. I feel her hesitate, getting a sigh from me.

“Sit down,” I command. She does as she asks, curling her tail further around my waist as she rests her head below mine. Aged yet still bright brown eyes shine towards my face. Her tongue again flits through her lips, two-toned much like her little rhythm. I pet the little brown afro she has, affirming, “You’re still beautiful when you’re like this, you know.”

“Beautiful?” she asks, latching onto the compliment.

“You know what I mean,” I scold. “I’d be a fool if I didn’t recognize your innate beauty. Much as some men seem unable to.”

“But we don’t live for men,” she answers, starting to hold my head close. Her temple rests against mine as she continues, “We live for the thrill, don’t we?” The edge of her tail again continues to rattle, like a dog who wants more and more affection.

“Hmph,” I chuckle mildly. “Guess we do. I never quite understood why you wanted me, anyhow.”

“Hot,” she answers. “In the figurative sense – so bright, so eager. So desireful.”

“All true,” I admit. “But now, it’s over. There’s nothing else to explore. The stars won’t open up for us any time soon.”

“Maybe they will,” she counters. “Once we’ve created ships that explore beyond the sky.”

“Maybe,” I admit, putting her face aside and continuing to sketch out the last of this land. 

“Can’t you focus on me?” she pleads as if she’s still a child. “You know how I feel towards you.”

“I know, I know. You’ve had this unrequited crush for a long, long time. I have no clue how far back, but-”

“Oh, back when we were but children and your parents had conducted a survey to determine how much taxes we paid.”

“Ack, don’t remind me of that. It was such boring work, without any fun. Sailing is boring in its own right, but exploring these little specs of land – that’s where the intrigue, the excitement is. 25 years of my life, spent on all this.” I sigh, resting my head against her long tail. “How quickly time goes.”

I finish my map, the last amongst my collection. I roll it up the aged parchment and tuck it into the satchel I always carried with me, holding all the rest I’ve created and updated. “I’ll simply spend my time here,” I state, passing the now useless satchel over to her after taking out a cap for my hair.

“Well so will I,” she replies, refusing to unwrap herself from me. Nonetheless, she does accept my little ‘present’ and puts it around her shoulders, body covered by a sleeveless leather tunic. “Though, can I-”

“Of course,” I cut off, offering my hands to her mouth.

Her eyes light up as she then gulps them down, softly as if not to break me. She acts as if the past wouldn’t have done that to me already. My arms follow soon, along with my head that surrounds the cold light with warm darkness. Her throat and stomach continue to pull me down as I wriggle through her system quickly and efficiently. It’s the ritual her people use whenever they choose a mate for life, and while I never quite understood the reason behind it, I still liked it. 

Plus, with her experience, she never has to struggle with getting me down her throat – in fact, I’m pretty sure she challenges herself to swallow me faster everytime.

Still, it’s comfortable being surrounded completely and entirely by someone you love, their loud rumblings assuring you that you’re still here and with them. I hear her tail again rattle as she slithers off. The sounds quiet, nature being replaced by her scales scraping against stone. A soft pressure starts to form around my torso, the result of arms from the outside wrapping around me.

“You’ve still never lost that flavor,” she mumbles.

“Of aged jerky?” I jest.

“Of leaves,” she answers. “I can feel you the same way I can touch a leaf, see it wrapped around my little finger. I want to keep you with me. I don’t want you to leave me.”

“Me neither,” I admit, pushing my head against where her’s probably is. Saliva again continues to drench my clothes, but I’m used to this – it’s like being submerged in a warm bath honestly. A cosy bath without bubbles, but one that continues to relieve all the pressure built up after long, long years. “I don’t think I could stand to leave you,” I admit. “As irritating as you’ve been, it’s also been pleasant, knowing someone was there with you along the way.”

“Finally! You’ve admitted it!”

“Hmph,” I chuckle. “Guess I have.” It seems like I’ll be on this Earth for a while longer now. I suppose… there’s fun in a journey with someone else.

“You’re too late, Iceas!” Ms. Dilemma cackles as I roll my eyes. “You’re too late yet again!”

“Yes yes, what have you done this time?”

“Just look at my handiwork below!” I peer over the edge, and-

“Woman.”

“What do you think?! Flip the lever, and you prevent a trolley from killing five people just to kill your girlfriend! Else, you’ll let your girlfriend live at the expense of five innocents!”

“Did you seriously re-invent the trolley problem?!”

“N-no?!”

“THIS IS THE FIFTH TIME YOU’VE DONE IT THIS MONTH!” I screech, throwing my white-gloved hands out and feeling tempted to strangle this woman’s neck. I mean, I’m only a few months older than her, but still!

“But it’s different! Last time it was your cheating ex!”

“Forget this,” I grumble, kicking the lever over and freezing it in place as I start creating an ice slide to make it down to the other side of the tracks, seeing my beautiful girlfriend Lisov stuck to the tracks, the sun shining against her wonderful tan skin, curly brown hair, and green eyes.

“Sweetheart!” she calls out when she sees me. “Thank you for saving me, that villain was dreadful.”

“I know,” I sigh as I get to untying her ropes. “Honestly, she gets on my nerves.”

“Mhm,” she nods. “Thank goodness my wonderful goddess is here to save me, and-”

“Oh shut your mouth,” I add, blushing as I turn away.

Yet, a honking can be heard in the distance. My head swivels, body panicking as I see the runaway trolley barrelling towards us… There’s no time.

“Sorry,” I hastily apologize. I look towards her, opening my mouth wide. Her eyes don’t waver, struggling to process as she’s engulfed in my maw within seconds. She struggles against my suction, legs floundering as I take a second quick gulp and keep her down, sweating as she starts to kick around.

“Where am I?!” she panics, small bumps forming as I start to hug her. “Iceas, where-”

“Hey,” I shush, slowly caressing her head as I turn away, the trolley barrelling away rapidly and screeching against the tracks. “You’re ok, just… inside me,” I explain, her flailing slowing down as she hears my soothing words. “Now,” I answer, glaring upwards. “Time to have a chat.” I raise my hands, a stair of ice freezing the air as I ascend towards the villain now clutching the side of the railing, refusing to let go. She looks at me oddly, eyes now… empty.

Then, she lets her hands up, slowly raising them to the bright blue air. Her lips open and close, the wind obfuscating her words.

“What was that?” I demand, raising an icicle spear in my hand.

“I surrender,” she replies softly, refusing to meet my gaze. I stomp forward, only for an internal pounding to rise that causes me to stop.

“HEY WAIT WAIT WAIT!" Lisov cries out. 

“WHAT?!” I ask. “What is it now-”

“SHE’S MY BLIND DATE!”

“YOUR WHAT?!” I look over at Ms. Dilemma, clutching her arm. “You- what?! You dated my girlfriend?!” 

“I didn’t know,” she confesses. “I mean, at the time we met, but-”

“Hey, let me explain,” Lisov interrupts.

“Alright…” With some hesitation. I regurgitate her, seeing her climb out as she falls onto the ground, saliva sticking to her face. “Now, talk.”

“So,” she starts, “We had met through a dating app. It was pretty pleasant, she was a nice person. I kinda found out about her villainy… well, today actually. But she said no one was going to get hurt! Really!”

“Yeah,” Ms. Dilemma agrees. “I only meant for the trolley to stop not to actually… plow through. I know I set the emergency brakes to activate, broke the track before, everything… how could it?”

“So please,” Lisov asks. “Don’t… do anything.”

My icicle spear wavers, falling to the ground and shattering. “Fine,” I huff. “Still, you’re under arrest.” My stomach grumbles, prompting Ms. Dilemna to look at it. “What?” I ask.

“Well,” she offers, “if you need to contain me…” she thrusts her limbs forward, expecting something. We stand there, leaving her blushing.

“What?” I demand. “What more could you possibly want?”

“You can… eat me,” she mumbles…. Huh?

Screw it. I saunter up to her, sizing her up; she’s only a few inches shorter. “I should be able to make this work,” I reply, opening my mouth wide. I gulp her head, the sensation of her twitches sending thrills as it mixes with the tanginess of her sweaty sand-white skin. 

“Mmph!” she mumbles, wriggling around as I take my time savoring every bit of her, feeling the latex of her suit slide cleanly down my throat, her descent starting to form a bulge that grows into a bump, then a hill. She seems to fight back all the way, good; I want my prey to squirm, especially for someone like her. I finish gulping down her shoes, letting out a gasp as I complete my last swallow. She moves around slowly as I decide to knead my stomach, applying a bit more force with each one. “Ow, that hurts a bit,” she complains.

“Good,” I reply. “You nearly hurt my wife with my antics.”

“I… know,” she confesses. “I wanted you, honestly.”

“And this was how you decided to do that?”

“Sweetheart,” Lisov asks, putting a hand on my stomach. “I love her too, and I trust her. Please?”

I can’t fight her when she makes that pouty face. “Fine,” I reply.

“It’s just, you’ve always seemed so bright,” Ms. Dilemma answers. “So confident in your decisions… and then here I am; a rich girl who became a high-school dropout. I failed my way out of uni because I just couldn’t decide what I wanted to do… everything sucked.”

…

“It still does,” I answer, leaning on her. “My agency, they always call me at the most unreasonable hours, whitewash me when given the chance, all that stuff. It’s not great either, and to be honest… I kinda wanted a chance to break free.”

“Remonda Wilkison.”

“Sorry?”

“That’s my name.”

“... Aurora Fidafey,” I return.

“It’s a cute name.”

“I know,” I pridefully say, deciding to give a kiss. “I can… give you a chance. Lisov seems to like you.”

“Love,” she corrects, rubbing along my stomach too.

“Haha,” she chuckles, starting to cry.

“JUST DIE!” I scream as I twist the pole into the creature, screeching and hissing as its blood spills onto me. It makes feeble attempts to scratch me, but I kick it away, leaving some organ impaled on the pole. It begins to crawl, reaching a hand out before collapsing. 

I breath, heavily, taking a moment to wipe my lip before hesitantly walking forward. Just to be safe, I raise it up to the air and stab through the head, hearing its brain squelch as the monster lets out its last breath.

The pain intensifies, leaving me wincing as I sit back down. I peel up my shirt, my hastily sewn up wound now flaring up again and bleeding. Red blood mixes with my yellow-brown tawny skin, continuing to burn intensely. “Shit,” I curse, starting to sniffle at the damage. “Of course this had to happen.”

I look over at the side, still smelling the rotting carcass of the captain who died here. Much like the rest of the crew, his crystal-white skin remains tarnished by wounds and blood. Not like I cared much for these people, especially when they hazed me and locked me in a damn room with this thing once, but still. None of us did.

And now, I’m going to die here. I’m not going to get to see my family again.

Haha…

I reach out for my phone, sluggishly tapping the buttons for my password and opening my camera to hit record. It catches my face, still bloody as I keep a smile against all odds.

“Hi!” I greet. “So yeah, I’m about to die on this expedition. If you see this, these are my last words. I just want you to know that you always meant the most to me, Mom and Dad. I’ll see you eventually, don’t worry. I’ll be waiting. Just stay safe, ok? Someone has to for my brothers.” I stop the recording, collapsing on my side as the air grows frigid, eyes weary. Even parts of the ship start to tear apart in my hallucination, the alien corpse slipping out and sliding. I glance in the direction, noticing the palm of a space-black hand. 

I absentmindedly stare, truly wondering if this is an illusion. The top of the ship even comes off, revealing a…

A woman. A giant, giant humanoid woman with slimy hair and antennas on her head, floating about as the very stars seem to dot the clothes along her body. 

“Oh,” she gasps, her voice deep and echoing in this comparatively small ship, me left as just a morsel that could fit inside her mouth..

“Death?” I ask, knowing the only reason such a being would appear in front of me.

“No, are you ok?” she asks, ignoring my plights as she lifts my body up with the tip of her fingers. Despite how rough they should be, they’re soft like a pillow, cooling my wounds as I continue to wince, biting my lip to conceal a scream. “No, of course you’re not, young one.”

“It’s ok,” I reply, knowing that this is just a last minute hallucination. “Just take me already.”

“...Then I’m sorry. Promise not to fight,” she asks as she suspends me to her face, eyes looking upon me, almost seeming to observe my every being. She opens her mouth, wide as my body gives up. Besides, this is the end, right?

I fall into her mouth, the heat of sudden breath hitting my face and making me realize. By the time I do, her tongue is already licking over me and covering my body in wet saliva, infesting my wounds and igniting them. My eyes shoot open, adrenaline taking me before I scramble up, pushing against every surface. “WAIT,” I scream, “I DON’T WANT TO DIE YET, I-”

“I know,” the giant replies, tilting her head up and letting some innate gravity take me. I clutch onto her tongue, trying to climb my way up as I plead. 

“Please, just let me live,” I sob. “I beg you, I-”

“I’m sorry.” She takes one gulp, my doom beckoning as I fall down her maw, feeling her throat squeeze me as I fall down, further and further down.

This is how it ends, isn’t it? I’m going to become just food, digested and turned into mere sustenance. Please… at least let my voice call reach someone. Please let me be remembered. They’re the last thoughts I think before I can no longer think, letting my consciousness fade for the last time.

…

I open my eyes, met by blue lights and someone else, prodding at some blue surface in between me and them. “Hey!” the guy yells out. “You awake, or-”

“Wha-” I stammer, the panel fading as I stumble out. “What happened, I-”

“Hey, take it easy,” the man replies, putting a steady hand against my back.

“I’m in heaven, right?” I ask. “Or purgatory?”

“Neither of those places,” another woman walking up answers, her boots squelching on the floor. … Squelching? I look down, noticing the maroon texture everything else has. “Where are we?!” I screech, stepping back from everyone as I reach for my hip – only able to find a taser. Still, I wield it like a sword, letting it click as the other two people raise their hands.

“Geez, what happened to you?” she asks. Though she takes a look over me, eyes seeming to soften. “Oh. I… Understand now.” 

“Understand what?” I ask as I look down, noticing the damage left… but now blood. I lift my shirt, or what remains, noticing the wounds were now healed. No, it’s as if they weren't there. “How…?” 

“So,” the man starts, “the last thing you probably remember was being eaten, right?”

“Yeah,” I answer, placing my hand against my forehead as I feel dizzy. I look around, now noticing the red around us almost starts to resemble… a stomach. A warm, soft stomach. “I was lifted in the air and eaten by some woman…”

“Well yeah,” he replies. “Don’t know what alien species made this, but this seems to be an organic AI, meant to find creatures in danger and devour them.” He raises his own shirt, revealing a massive circular scar. “It managed to restore my heart after a war.”

“So its saliva-”

“Enhanced nanites at a cellular level,” the woman replies. “Some of us have even taken to residing here, improving the systems and this gal’s ability to locate stuff. We’ve had some… difficult residents admittedly.”

I casually relax, resting my dark-as-midnight black feet against the top of a table. Cueing up some podcasts on my phone, I casually lean back against my couch and let the TV start broadcasting then.

Some bland as hell cream-white reporter looks at the screen and goes, “So far, we’ve been looking into the whereabouts of the villain ‘Hisolo’, infamous for stealing from several banks and mansions.”

“They could afford to share,” I jest, sipping from a conveniently placed bottle of soda. “Or you know, I just take it all for myself. At least I spend and return to the economy!” 

But then, my door goes flying off into the distance, recoiling against my TV and starting to fly at me. I raise my hand, the door practically instantly coming to a stop. I turn, glaring at the new visitor –

“Oh,” I realize, recognizing the earthly skinned hero clad in red with a simple ‘C’ emblazoned on his chest. “You.”

“Yes, it is I!” he declares, pointing directly at me with a red gloved hand. “Hero Cicada, ready to bring you in!”

“Cool, do you plan to pay for my TV?” I ask, motioning to the broken device. “I used real taxpayer dollars to buy that, surprisingly!”

“Oh please, you just used stolen money!”

“Whatever,” I start, storming off to the hero. They step back, only for their foot to freeze in place as the air stiffens around it. Completely frozen, he builds up some sweat on his lip, already trying to struggle free. I simply pick up by the arms, letting him vaguely flounder. “I am not in the mood for this,” I continue as I open my mouth wide.

He starts saying something, but it comes out muffled as I stuff him in my mouth and continue to feel him wriggle against my grasp. I take one slow gulp, his head making his way down his throat. His shoulders are next to go, still tasting divine with how sweet his sweat is. I continue to gulp his chest down, watching as my chest begins to bulge as his head starts to leave an imprint. Just to be safe, I pull up my shirt to prevent it from tearing at the seams. I paid a lot for this sapphire blue shirt and it happens to be my favorite! I’m not letting some hero of the week destroy it! 

Still, he keeps going down, wriggling every second as I keep gulping down his legs. Once I reach his feet, I continue swallowing up to his sneakers, feeling it all go down as he’s sealed within my prison of flesh. I slap my stomach, asking, “So, who’s going to prison now!”

“You will,” he answers, continuing to kick around as I press down on my stomach, letting my own weight continue to crush him. “Once I find a way out of this predicament!”

Amused by his antics, I let him continue to flounder and eventually tire himself out, no longer moving as he makes slow, labored breaths. “Don’t take this as defeat! I will fight my way out of this, just you wait and see!”

“You don’t even have a sidekick, what makes you think you’re able to fight this?”

“Pure grit.” I merely roll my eyes. 

“It is sweet how you keep coming back to me though,” I continue, caressing my stomach and half-wondering if he feels the sensations too. “It is still annoying how you always manage to barge in at the worst times, but it makes my day a slight bit more lively.”

“Same for me,” he begrudgingly admits. “Oh, by the way,” he starts, “the conditioner you sent me? It worked like a charm.”

“Of course I’d know!” I answer, flipping aside my curly afro. “I didn’t spend so much keeping this hair up for nothing. And at least that suit is waterproof.”

“Mhm,” I continue, rubbing my hands along his stomach. “You really are some type of freak for enjoying this cannibalism stuff – you know that, right?”

“You seem to be enjoying it far more than me,” he points out.

I simply shrug. “I’m a villainess you noisy bug, of course I’m allowed to have bad habits!” 

“Though it’s not really cannibalism, is it?”

“How not?”

“Well… you aren’t digesting me. For starters.” 

“Mm,” I hum. “Well, whatever – it’s nice having something in the morning.”

“Oh, what were you watching?” he continues, far more engrossed in my own life than even me.

“Just the usual, lockpicking 505.”

“Really?” he asks incredulously. 

“No of course not, I was watching the news about me.”

“As self-conceited as always.”

“And never changing! Besides, I do good! I rob billionaires!”

“... and a jaywalker was a billionaire?”

“Ok, that guy had called my entire fashion sense outdated!” I exclaim, slamming my hands down. “Can you believe it? Me? Outdated?”

“Sure,” he replies, seeming to cozy up now. “What… are your powers anyhow? We’ve been at this for a year, and you know mine.”

Rolling my eyes, I answer, “Yeah, some overglorified noisemaker. And that’s just a company secret!” I continue caressing my little morsel, enjoying the slight squirms he makes. His body shifts and turns, almost making me want to let him out just so I could devour him again.

Almost – his little noise trick is enough to break my focus and my powers, after all. I don’t think he’s aware of that admittedly. 

But I don’t want to give up this taste.

“You’re mine,” I threaten my prey. “You’re my little plaything, curled around in my stomach until I decide I want to let you out.”

“Oh sure, up until you need to eat.”

“Don’t take an attitude with me!”

“Well, the way I see it, you’re a prisoner of me just as I’m a prisoner of you.”

“That’s… ugh!” I exclaim, standing upright and watching him jiggle. “That’s not how that works!

“Convince me otherwise then.”

I wander through the grassland aimlessly, the sickly green plants infecting this realm. I sigh, already used to this tedium. A butterfly flits onto my hand, gilded wings shining incessantly. I’m tempted to crush it, but I let it fly off -- ‘all life is valuable.’ 

However, parts of it now start to wither; green turning into the decaying brown of death, birds falling from the sky. A smile spreads across my lips as magma emerges from the ground, lightly tickling my feet. The air hisses when a portal starts to break through, swirling with crimson energy.

Out comes a red man with curved horns atop his head, a tail flicking behind as he walks out. “Greetings, lowly human -oh.” His spiel stops as I smugly look back at him.

“Hello!” I answer, waving with a hand the same color as the autumn leaves.

He groans: “This is the tenth time this year, and we’re only in February.”

“Then you’ll hear from me again!” I add. “So, will you offer the deal, or-”

“Nope,” he answers, crossing his hands. Seeming to think upon his gesture, he undoes it and just firmly shakes his head. “You’ve tricked me once, you’re not getting me again. I know you’re not giving up your soul.”

“Maybe, there are other means?” I ask, clasping my hands together. “Say this; if we complete a dance of my choice, then you’ll get to take my soul.” I extend my hand. “Well?”

While he does hesitate, he shakes my hand. “Deal,” he says, satisfied with these terms.

“Good then,” I start, taking the other hand of the demon still towering a foot above me. “Then let’s simply get started.”

I pull him forward, letting go of a hand and wrapping the free arm along his waist. He gives off a cheerful smile, continuing the dance as we sway side by side, tail absentmindedly flicking around. For a moment, it starts to wrap around the cloth around my right leg.

“How’s your cult?” he asks.

“Is it a cult if the supernatural are real?” I reply.

“You humans call your organization a cult,” he points out. 

“Regardless,” I continue as I make a step to the side, “it’s been going well. Some members have been… less than pleasant,” I admit. “I’ve occasionally wanted to throw some members down the sacrifice pit, but for now, slitting the throat of a chicken is good enough.”

“We’re actually a bit tired of the constant meat sacrifices,” he adds. “Some other types of food would be great! I mean, human souls too, but-”

“Ah, I’m not sacrificing other souls unnecessarily,” I add. “Or at least, not until they’re into that.”

“They all are until they’re burning deep inside,” he answers, wistfully gazing.

“It’s funny how being a cult leader doesn’t send you to hell,” I realize. “I just figured it’d be automatic.”

“Of course it doesn’t. Actions make you bad. Cults are just a community… granted dangerous ones that remove your autonomy, but you’ve done a good job on focusing on the ‘community part’.”

“Then why’d you call it a cult, jackass?”

“Because,” he answers, lowering me. “I don’t have a word otherwise.”

I adjust myself up, refocusing on the little dance as it approaches its end. “Well, pick better. Though, I suppose you are better than the people who refuse to learn the singular they. Now.” I start to conclude, letting him sink in my hands and hold his waist as we twirl for a bit. I let him land, lowering him.

As I do, my foot slips; we both topple over, me sitting above as he winces from the fall. I lean down, purring, “Thank you.”

Before he gets the chance to answer, I gulp down his head, his soft hair and coarse skin rubbing against my throat. His horns should be boring a hole through, but in the land of dreams? They’re nothing more than small pricks. He gives off a mild struggle as he continues to go down, the taste of his leather clothes continuing to stick to my tongue as he indulges me. Slowly taking each gulp, one after the other, Numitor’s breathing starts to slow and echo through my stomach. When his feet are swallowed, the only thing left out is his floundering tail; I suck it in, slithering down slowly but surely.

“Ahh,” I gasp, rubbing my stomach as beads of sweat form on my stomach; not from the effort to swallow, but his own heat. “You still feel as good as ever,” I tease as I push down on him.

“Shut up,” he complains, giving me a short kick. “Besides, your soul is now mine, so-”

“No,” I interrupt, covering my mouth with my hand. “I don’t think it is. You see, it was only after the dance was complete.”

“Ah, so that’s the loophole this time around.”

I pout: “I thought you’d be genuinely surprised by this one!”

“I mean, I am, but this is the hundredth time, at least.”

“You could at least pretend to be joyful, boyfriend!”

“Huh… we are that, aren’t we?”

“Mm?” I ask, still enjoying the warmth. “I don’t think you love me, so that can’t be the case.”

“No, I think I do,” he thinks aloud. “Visiting you… it’s not much of a chore. It’s not like I mind being in your stomach too. It’s soft, comfortable.”

“For someone such as I?”

“Yes, you murdered your parents, but as far as I’m concerned, they had it coming; starvation isn’t pretty, you handled it better than most.”

“Better than turning my parents into demon food?” I ask.

“One woman started a cult, you literally couldn’t do worse.”

“I run a cult,” I point out.

“She sacrificed billionaires.”

“Oh damn, she’s far more ethical than me,” I realize. “Do you have her contact information?”

“Sure sure,” he sighs. “I’ll get that next time. For now, just enjoy yourself, ok?”