Teasing prey till they're weak in the knees and trembling is a lot like chewing any food before swallowing only far more affective as a means of getting them down your throat.
AI generated images have given me a new appreciation for being a moderately obscure species because there doesn't seem to be enough art for AI models to steal from and satisfactorily emulate.
Finding someone worth eating is harder than ever now cause dating apps have reduced everyone to a string of rather unappetizing statistics.
It's like trying to decide on what would best satisfy a craving by only looking at the nutrition labels.
I'm rather offended when preds rush to finish off a prey by describing it as "slurping" the last of them down.
I am far more substantial of a meal than just a noodle.
Slop is such a negative word now, but you want to be slop, don't you?
You want to be a soggy mess inside a loudly churning gut. Your pulped body getting strained through a pred's mercilessly efficient intestines. You're despite for the gooey fate of food. Isn't that right, slop?
I like to imagine that the Pokéballs have a spongy stomach like interior.
It helps acclimatize them to being curled up in a belly for when they're eventually gulped down by that random wild encounter that wipes your team for no reason.
Almost as though they're a distance entity being told of an event in some intimately known stranger's life relayed to them through the safety of fication with the same lackluster urgency and dry depth as a string of text messages.
Ever wonder if willing prey are actually just so overwhelmingly worked up and vorny that they disassociate from themselves and experience their existence ending with only the vaguest cognition of it being something more than a wisp of escapist fantasy churned up in their mind?
"I could eat you... if you want" I coo after a long pause, unsure of what else I could offer but escape as I cradle you curled up in my arms, weeping after another day of struggles.