#non V OC

[dread-red-queen]

🚫 Do Not Re-Upload/Edit My Shots/Art Without My Permission🚫

             [Pillowfort][Instagram][Tumblr][AO3][Nexus][Ko-Fi]

[kleptopunk]

Felix Sikora, modeling @pinkyjulien's upcoming Stinky Slouch Set.

[timaeusterrored]

(Mama’s boy)

((What’s this??? Onyx posting?? In this economy?

Anyway: TW for abuse, nightmares, mentions of death))

Onyx was six years old the first time his mom made Chex Mix. It was in an old fashion crockpot, and it made their tiny apartment smell amazing. He had been warned to not touch the pot, for it would burn his hand if he wasn’t careful.

She made him a bowl and set him up at the table while she cleaned, Onyx remembered it all so clearly. His mother humming a tune he would hum to himself when he got scared.

Onyx loved his mother, for the most part, it was just the two of them. And he liked it that way, no one could hurt them when it was just them in their tiny apartment that smelled like cigarette smoke and whatever his mom was cooking. The smell had become comforting. Maybe that’s why he felt so safe around- Wait what? No.

He wasn’t supposed to be in this dream-

Dream?

Six year old Onyx looked around, and next thing he knew, he was 27. Standing in an apartment he hadn’t been in since he was ten. Was it always this small? Or did he just feel bigger now?

The more he stood, the more he realized what was off. It was silent, for one. All except for the bathtub running.

No.

Even in his dream, his heart quickened. He felt faint as his feet carried him towards the door. He jiggled the knob a few times, finding it locked. Then he knocked.

“Fuck off, Parker.”

That name. That voice.

It sent a rage in him he hadn’t felt in years. A rage he swore to never feel again. The reason he stayed locked in his den. No people around meant no more out bursts.

“Let me in.” His voice was that of his ten year old self. It was unsettling to say the least. “Mama? Please let me in.”

“I said fuck off, Parker!” His father snapped behind the door, despite it though, Onyx flinched.

When he stepped back, heard the water before he saw it. He knew what would be there. The water would be red, and he’d never see his mother again.

Onyx woke up screaming once again, his chest heaving as he shot out of his chair and slammed his knee into it desk. He swore, falling over.

How many time would he had to relive that day? The day he lost the only person that ever truly loved him. He never even got her urn. He wasn’t sure if there was one. He wouldn’t be surprised if his dad had just dumped her body somewhere and ran off.

What he wouldn’t give to avenge her.

[d3c1t4b-agency]

Meet 546:

He's one of BARGHEST's techies—and also here's his Militech Cerberus MK–I: Gelato. These images are from early 2075, after the former was sent on a recon mission to survey the mess of tunnels under Dogtown. He left expecting to find nothing but abandonment and found a choom instead.

IMG 01: 546 (left) just chillin with Gel between work—the Cerberus is likely BARGHEST's best maintenance tech, which really isn't saying much—but above all, they're 546's closest companion: a giant, six-legged, AI powered robot who acts like a really big puppy. A big puppy that affectionately pins you to the ground and spins their drill in your face.

IMG 02: 546's boss shows up, wondering where and how the fuck he got something like that. After all, you don't just find secret corpo tech lying around. I guess you could say that was the case—it was Gel who found an unconscious 546 and helped him escape from the depths in the end.

IMG 03: After a brief demonstration of Gel's ability and talent (the Cerberus is being trained to dance, of all things), 546 is allowed to keep the giant hexapod—mostly due to the fact that only he has any semblance of control over them.

IMG 04 (Bonus): POV: Gel is either about to love-tackle you to the ground, or give you a suprise lobotomy since you decided to fuck with 546. There is no in-between or getting away; You cannot escape the affection (or hate).

[lynxfrost13]

EULR-S2373

FLKR-S2301 “Sonderbar”

Art commissioned from @discobowser !

Sonderbar lore time

- Originally a maintenance EULR unit working on Sierpinski-23, her cadremates affectionately named her Sonderbar (peculiar/odd) due to her defective right arm, which locks up sometimes because of faulty elbow parts (eules are cheaply made and this poor gal got the extra discounted pieces)

- Otherwise a typical EULR, until she rapidly descended into persona degradation for reasons unknown to her comrades. It left her incredibly unstable and she imprinted on a propaganda poster featuring a FLKR unit, and over time Sonderbar began to believe that she was a Falke.

- Her personality is a mix between a EULR and a FLKR, she retained her cheerful disposition and sweetness but is more reserved overall, and carries herself with the same authority as a Falke. Sonderbar sees herself as the station’s commander and as someone who needs to guide her cadremates, even though they make it incredibly difficult to do so. She loves them but they can’t seem to understand that she’s in charge here!

- Sonderbar’s fellow eules find her behavior towards them incredibly endearing and concerning, they don’t take her commands seriously whatsoever. They worry about their friend being decommissioned since she’s become bolder and begun harassing (commanding) protektor staff and causing general mayhem and try to keep eyes on her in an attempt to stop her antics.

- Sonderbar knows that she’s a Falke unit but feels very off and disoriented, there’s gaps of knowledge on how to actually run her facility, she doesn’t understand why her bioresonance isn’t working or why replikas aren’t following her, she misses her Adler. She can’t seem to find her spears. She hates how small she is and knows she’s meant to easily tower above most replikas and all of it upsets her!!!

- To feel more like a Falke, Sonderbar’s gotten her hands on red eyeliner, and “borrowed” a star protektor plate that she decorated with the signature FLKR triangles (when her cadremates discovered her wearing the plate they took it from her out of fear that she’d get in serious trouble. There was much screaming and kicking in her EULR dorm that night. She has reacquired it since then.)

Bonus quick eyeliner edit that I just wanna put here again

[wayward-banana]

Waaaaah I need to post more art!! 3/4th angle Xiao facing left GO!!!!

[alexcutecolly]

The Tenor

Greatly inspired by that anon asking about preds putting on a musical number before eating their prey, I wrote this short story!

Warnings: some cursing, fearplay, unwilling g/t vore, uncaring pred.

Mainly NSFW vore accounts DNI!!

Words: ~2.1k

°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°

Your head feels heavy as you start regaining consciousness, your vision all blurred and confusing before your eyes focus on your surroundings.

“Mhhh?”

W…where am I?

It looks like you’re in the backstage of a massive theater. No kidding, every single equipment around you is gigantic compared to your size. The curtains are still closed, and the dark engulfs everything. The only exception being a single, big reflector casting its beacon of light before you.

Looking down, you realize you’re all tied up to a chair of your own scale.

“Uh???” You can’t move an inch, and any attempt at budging is vain; plus you can feel the ropes almost digging into your sitting form.

W… what happened? I was waiting in a queue to buy a ticket for Mr. Biggs’ next performance-

“Is… anyone there?” you call out, your voice resounding in the seemingly empty room.

“Oh! There you are! It took you longer that I thought to wake up!” a booming voice breaks the eerie silence, coming from above but behind you.

“U-uh?”

This voice-

“The Titanic Tenor…? Mr. … Mr. Biggs? Is… Is that you?”

He chuckles, moving from his previous position to face you.

“That is me indeed~”

“Mr. Biggs, w-what’s going on? Is… is this a joke?” you ask him, doing your best not to make a puppy-eyed face as you look straight at him.

“Oh, not at all! You see… you’ve been randomly picked for an unique, extraordinary event involving the one and only me!” he exclaims, putting his arms out with theatrical emphasis.

You raise an eyebrow.

“Ooookaaaay…? Aaaaand… Why does it require me to be bound to a chair, in dim light, in the backstage?” you question him, wriggling a bit in place.

“Oh it’s rather simple.” He grins menacingly.

“I’ll give you 60 seconds to escape. If you don’t make it, I’m going to eat you. How’s that sound?”

“W-WHAT-“

“I won’t repeat myself. The ropes are tight. I’m just sure you’ll come up with something” he says, keeping the same excited grin.

“But- this is absurd!!”

“Oh yeah it is! Absurd, that I haven’t done this before!”

You gulp nervously.

“And in the meantime, allow me to perform a cavatina dedicated to your despair only. It should last for the perfect amount of time as well.”

“B-but wait! Why do you want to eat me? I’m just a random spectator from your usual audience! Also… Aren’t tenors supposed to play the heroes, the good guys in operas? Not that we’re in a play right now but-“

“First of all. Although you’re technically right, there are some interesting exceptions in 19th century plays where the tenor plays the bad guy, and the main male protagonist/hero is played by a baritone. Just check out Giuseppe Verdi’s ‘Rigoletto’, so you’ll know what I’m talking about” he responds, moving his hand in the air as to shoo your doubts away.

“And for the reason why I’m so eager to make a meal out of you… Why can’t I? Shouldn’t I enjoy a snack every once in a while?”

“You can’t be serious-“

“Ta-ta, less complaining and more working on those ropes, or the only symphony you’re going to be listening to in a minute will be my belly’s. C’mon, the play is starting!”

“Just wait-!”

“Oooooh~ oh my dear preeeeey~

You should’ve walked awayyyy~

From the moment you feeelt

Your impending dooooom~”

The giant tenor is ignoring you now, his back turned to you as he starts to sing his malicious song.

Great, just great. You sigh.

So you begin wriggling and struggling, with your hands doing their best to release your wrists first.

Shit, he wasn’t lying about the ropes being tight, you think with a grunt.

“… And whaaaaat

are you going to doooo

once you’re all settleeed

inside my guuuut~… ”

Ugh, shut up.

His eyes meet yours, when he turns around as he continues with his mocking cavatina. He licks his lips for just a moment, causing you to flinch and look away from him.

Clenching your teeth, you feel a small wind of relief when you finally manage to untie one of the knots. The ropes feel a little loosened now. You don’t stop, and keep insisting on the other knots. Thankfully, it seems there’s only one remaining.

“… 20 seconds… is all that’s leeeeft~

Before you’re plunged

Down into my chest~…”

You curse under your breath, your sore fingers now attempting to undo what remains of the thread binding you to the chair. It’s all been wrapped around you, which makes it even harder to make it come off.

Eventually, you pull the rope and it finally releases you from your sitting position, and that’s when you toss it away and run for your life.

But that’s when you realize…

Wait… I’m not on the ground! He placed me on a fucking table!! Or… Is it a… stage?

“Was… was there not an escape route the entire time?” you ask yourself, horrified at coming at your conclusion.

“Nonono, there has to be one-”

“Oh my dear prey~

Your time is uuup~

And now you will be

Miiiiiine~”

He lets out the last word with a nice, prolonged High C before approaching, rubbing his hands together at your sight.

“Wait, nonono, I refuse to be eaten!” you say, standing up to him with your fists clenched.

“Oh c’mon sweetheart, you’ve had your chance. Now, give up and accept it.”

“’My chance’ your ass, you’ve tricked me! You made me believe I could run away in safety, but… How was I supposed to get down from here?” With a stern look you point at the edge of the table, which is at least 3 feet in giant size.

The tenor sighs. “Gorgeous. The actors aren’t supposed to leave the stage until the curtains are pulled! Don’t you know that?”

“B-but… we’re not in a play right now.”

“Says who?” the opera singer asks rhetorically, grinning from ear to ear.

!!!!

“Y-you didn’t correct me before! When I said the same thing!”

“I didn’t, yeah. Aren’t you happy, though? You’ve been promoted from mere spectator to main acting role!”

“A-as if this is what I was waiting in line for! I’m- I’m done with your stupid game!”

“Oh yeah sure, feel free to complain to the big boss if you’d like, then! And that is…”

He does a little twirl, turning around before doing a theatrical pose with his arms stretched out wide.

“ME!”

“…”

You have nothing else to say. The situation is already crazy enough for your understanding. Plus it feels so demeaning, it’s like your mind is detaching itself from your body.

“Anyhow, I hope you’ll behave now. Because…”

He leans forward with the usual wicked smile plastered on his face. You instinctively take a step back in fear, looking up to the famished giant.

“You’re going to be the spotlight of my lunch.”

You shake your head. “N-no please! Have mercy!!”

“And I will! Plus it’s not like you’re going to die, you silly goose!” he says loudly, reaching out towards you with his large hand.

You almost dodge his fingers, but they manage to grab the back of your jacket at the very last second. And so you’re lifted up in the air, wriggling in the caging fist of your captor.

“Ha-have you taken into account the fact that maybe I just don’t want to be eaten by you?” you wheeze out as you attempt to free yourself from his grip.

“Oh, I have. I just decided not to care.”

He raises you above his head, his lips slowly parting to reveal the teeth and the inside of the maw.

You shake your head again, as to wake yourself up from this terrible dream. But when reality sinks in, all left for you to do is a desperate attempt at reaching for the fingers that are holding you up in the air.

Though Mr. Biggs doesn’t waste any more time, and he drops you right into the wide, very welcoming opening below.

Letting out a scream, you land right onto his spongy tongue. Covered in saliva already, you cough and immediately try to slip away towards the front, but the giant keeps you in place by pressing you even more into his taste buds with his index.

“MMMMMM!!~” the tenor hums loudly, rubbing your body up and down to get more and more of your peculiar flavor. And you must taste amazing, because more and more pools of saliva are accumulating fast all around you.

After a while though, he retracts the finger to close his mouth and seal you inside. As soon as the light goes out, the muscle underneath you pins you to the palate, unperturbed by your struggling; and as if it wasn’t enough, it brushes against you tirelessly to gather even more of your taste.

In the end, there’s nothing that doesn’t make you feel like you’re being sucked onto like a tiny piece of candy.

On the outside, the giant can barely contain his appetite. Oh, to have a feisty snack like you before any of his shows!

Once he’s grown tired of having you stuck to the roof of his mouth, he starts swirling you around, moving you from cheek to cheek. His continued humming makes the whole damp cave vibrate, which you’d find even soothing in a totally different situation. And it only gets worse when he picks up the snarky song he was singing before, his purring another way to taunt his poor victim.

Having fun with your part, morsel? I can keep going for as much as I like-

All of a sudden the alarm on Mr. Biggs’ watch goes off, reminding him of the incoming performance.

Humpf. Nevermind, I guess. Almost forgot about that, he huffs, quite annoyed to interrupt his vicious snacking.

Welp. Every story must come to an end, sooner or later, after all. What really matters is enjoying the ride, right~?

And that’s when he begins to tilt his head back.

In the inside of his maw everything shifts incredibly fast. Not that it has was all peaceful up until this moment, but if you were laying horizontally on his tongue just a few seconds ago, now you’re sliding straight towards a new dark chasm- his throat.

“N-no, wait!! D-don’t swallow!!” you shout, wiggling and doing the best way you can to hold onto something- anything-, that prevents you from falling into the bottomless pit in the back.

But with all the fleshy interiors coated in saliva, your hands hopelessness slip, slip and slip. So you what you actually manage to accomplish, is to just stare as you pass through the hellish gate and go down the hatch.

*GLK~*

The tenor gently presses his big hand to his neck as he feels you travel down, deeper and deeper inside of him until you disappear behind his collarbone.

“Mmmmm, I needed that~ some entertainment before the great show, you know?” he speaks, as if you could actually listen to him.

The descend towards his stomach is tight. So so tight. It’s giving you claustrophobia. The heat is unbearable, and you’re not even in the main chamber yet. His heart is hammering somewhere very close to you, undeterred to your despair. And when you’re finally released in the stomach, it feels like your troubles are over for the moment.

If Mr. Biggs is true to his word, you’re going to be safe. For a while, at least.

…

Hopefully.

“Aaaah~ That hit the spot~” Mr. Biggs sighs, feeling your small but filling presence inside his belly. He smirks at your puny wriggling, rubbing your spot with more glee than annoyance.

“Mmmmm, don’t be shy and struggle more if you’d like~” he says, poking his middle again in hope to get more active reactions from you.

“In the meantime, the rest of the audience is waiting for me for the real play! Make yourself at home, you’re definitely not coming out for the next few hours~” he says, chuckling to himself.

Before going back to his dressing room though, he gathers the tiny chair and the discarded thread from the stage - more like a table to him - ‘borrowed’ from the non-giant singers and musicians. Thankfully nobody has walked in during the events that have just transpired, or that’d have been pretty weird - if not embarrassing - to explain.

Oh well, you think, getting more comfortable as you crawl up to the nearest stomach wall to lay against it. Your eyes growing heavier from exhaustion and the excruciating warmth.

At least I’ve got front row seats to a free performance.

[moeblob]

I'm sorry for the OC brain rot on main....

(the lines are from a post about "tag yourself: awkward/unflirty Sims edition" and honestly? all my OCs are awkward/unflirty so ... yeah...)

[cybersteal]

𝗘𝗬𝗘𝗦 𝗢𝗙 𝗜𝗕𝗔𝗗

[brie-draws]

Little test ft Izam [ Shazna ] !!

[zeeckz]

[peachybunsexe]

Brother euuuuugh!

[timaeusterrored]

More Onyx thoughts for y’all:

His eyes being all white, opposite to Venus’s being all black. Both of them are based off of MCR albums so I thought it’d be cute if they were kinda opposite (Onyx is based off of The Black Parade and Venus is based off of Danger Days)

Him having a gas mask like Mother War from the album

Frank Iero is now his face claims

His netrunner suit is black and white

Keeps an Onyx stone on his desk at all times, it was his mom’s favorite

Frequents Misty’s shop! He keeps crystals on him at all times or on his desk, and gets tarot readings from her regularly

Calls Vax ‘Boss’ but secretly is really into him, but knows he’s probably not into Onyx

Stays in his netrunner den most of the time, either doing odd jobs or working for Vax and Judy

[m-u-n-c-h-y]

Ravos Severin, the Listener 🗡

[pearlyetoile]

My OC Kellam and some fairies :3

[starrysharks]

can i trust any of your ocs with my drink

probably not