hi! i'm sharky but you can also just refer to me as shark, i go by he/they/she, transmasc genderqueer/genderfluid (idk im still figuring it out). i mainly just reblog stuff i find horny (or neat), though i also post art and writing stuff on occasion (under #my art)
please keep in mind that this is a proship/darkfic/profiction-safe blog. fiction does not equal reality, but can still have an effect on it.
that being said this is NOT a safe space if you consider yourself pro-contact, xenosatanic, radqueer/trans-harmful, if you think vore can be "safe for work", or if you allow minors to interact with nsfw content such as vore. also fuck terfs, fuck nazis, fuck israel, free palestine.
as for content warnings: i reblog and post whatever tickles my fancy, but you WILL find potentially triggering/"dead dove" content on this blog. i'll try to tag anything that may be potentially triggering with the appropriate tags (i.e "cw X/Y/Z") but i might slip up. please don't be afraid to ask me to tag stuff!!!
i unfortunately don't follow/like stuff from this blog since it's a sideblog and my main is a non-horny rp blog lol
ummm i also run a vore poll blog at @feast--or--feed
full list of fandoms i like + other stuff you may find on this blog under the cut;
kinks:
vore (under #voreposting)
gore
teratophilia/monsterfucking (usually dragons tbh)
oviposition/egg stuff
general horny fandom bullshit
cnc/dubcon/noncon
incest/clonecest/selfcest but tbh this is only for really specific ships like soliquid
fandoms:
met.al ge.ar sol.id, mon.ster hun.ter, ha.lo, xc.om, resi.dent ev.il, ber.serk, godz.illa, evan.gelion, do.om, ca.ll of du.ty, tit.anf.all, wa.rham.mer, ummmm too many to list lol
fandom tags:
#metal freak solid
#freaky residents
#monster mounter
Feel like this might get dinged for flesh tones but we'll see.
Don't worry too much about Syl. He 100% got into this situation on purpose and is loving every second of it.
Since someone was askin for this. I’m not the most coherent when it comes to tutorials but hooopefully this gives you an idea how I achieve that effect.
I tried not to abuse overlay layers but - as a general note - I use a LOT of overlays for highlights. I don’t flat out place colors on there with a normal layer until the very end, but this was achieved with just normal layers and one multiply layer.
envision leon being thrown down into a gurney, old horror style, and thrashing as he's pinned and strapped in.
instead of a mask being put over his nose and mouth, his jaw is forced open and silicone gag is pushed in. a panel of leather covers his mouth.
wild eyes are calmed with a length of fabric tied around his head. and before he's pushed back down, a snug set of industrial headphones is strapped to his head and he's plunged into a silent blind nightmare
after the strap across his chest is tightened, one is fastened over his neck, and another over his forehead
leon bucking his hips as leathed padded cuffs keep his ankles and wrists shackles to the sides of the gurney
to finish this calming ritual, he's draped in a heavy weighted blanket and... can he admit that it's actually kinda nice...? yknow, despite the whole.... everything else....
on a related note; if anybody knows of any 18+ resident evil servers that aren't anti-profic (and don't allow minors in) could you please point me towards them... 🥹
tbh i just can't really get into digestion because the death/snuff aspect just. Does Not Appeal To Me. even if its portrayed in a very cozy/wholesome way in the sense of getting to just check out from the world for a while, because to me that's what getting eaten/hanging out in a tummy is supposed to fulfill in the first place...?
but the goopy-sensory experience does sound appealing, so ive been trying to workshop like. a sort of "pseudo-digestion," where the prey gets sort of melted but they still remain conscious + don't get absorbed into the pred's body, but said pred can still siphon nutrients from them and get all nice and fat and happy.
idk i think it sounds fun, especially in full-tour scenarios, where the prey's just all goopy and melty and lost in bliss while they're slowly being pumped through what feels like miles and miles of winding intestines... and they still have quite a ways to go before their body reconstitutes itself near the end of their journey...
Snox vore where it’s MGS1 and along with a final fight to the death, Gray Fox also wants to be eaten by Snake, or eat him.
mnhhh fuck. drabble time.
I'm mostly imagining this from Ot.acon's POV where he's hiding in the locker while the two are duking it out. For a good few minutes all he can hear is just them throwing punches and kicks at each other, equipment getting trashed and glass shattering in-between grunts of exertion and pain.
But eventually the commotion goes quiet somewhere over on the other side of the room. Sort of quiet — he can hear them talking but he can't make out what they're saying, and then there's a series of strangely wet noises that he can't make out, stretching on for a good minute or two in a way that has him starting to feel a little uncomfortable in his pants. And then, soon after, silence.
It takes Ot.acon another minute to work up the courage to step out of the locker, and the sight of smashed computers and scattered papers has him on edge. But now he can hear something else coming from where the fighting stopped; breathing, strained and uncomfortable.
As afraid of what he might find, he can't help but investigate — and ends up finding something much more surprising.
— — —
Now, depending on who wins the fight, this would have different outcomes. I think "realistically" (as in following the plot of the games more closely) it'd ultimately result in one of them digesting the other, but that'd kinda fuck with the plot a lot depending on who gets eaten/digested. and tbh the fatal aspect of digestion just squicks me out so I'm leaving these open-ended lol
— — —
At first, Ot.acon feels some relief when he sees the bandana-wearing guy - Sn.ake - lying prone on the floor when he rounds a corner of desks. That relief quickly turns into dumbfounded shock when his gaze falls upon the giant bulge in the soldier's gut, swollen to a size he's seen only in particularly niche artworks on the Internet.
The other man's face is flushed with exertion, a blissed-out expression plastered on his features. He has a feeling Sn.ake hardly even registers his presence with the way his half-lidded eyes don't seem to be focused on anything other than the swell in his belly. The still-moving swell in his belly — the engineer sees the form of something press out against the taught surface for a moment, before settling back into place with a muffled slick noise.
Ot.acon's brain promptly bluescreens for a good minute or two before he has the sense to finally say something and ask, of all things, "A-Are you okay?"
As if he should be asking that from a guy who swallowed a cyborg ninja whole.
That elicits a grunt from Sn.ake, who seems to snap out of whatever little daze he'd fallen into. He looks up at him from where he's sprawled out on the floor, looking somewhere between annoyed at being disturbed and regretting his choice of diet. Something about the look Sn.ake gives him makes Ot.acon shiver — there’s still a deep, primal hunger in those eyes, and he has no doubt that if it weren’t for his stomach keeping him pinned to the floor, Sn.ake might just be making a meal out of him next.
The mental image it gives him makes him throb in his pants a little, as scary as the thought is.
But now that he’s bore witness to this, Ot.acon finds that he can’t bring himself to look away. He steps closer, eyes glued on the gurgling, churning mass filling out the other man’s midsection, swallowing thickly.
“Did you really— I.. Is he..?” He struggles to think of something to say. So instead he does something a little ballsy — he places his hands on Sn.ake’s engorged gut, and his breath hitches from the sheer heat that’s all but radiating from it. A low growl rumbles from the other man’s throat (or maybe his stomach), but he doesn’t protest, which Ot.acon takes as his sign to continue.
His hands explore Sn.ake’s swollen belly, mapping out the curves and bumps made by its current occupant. The cyborg doesn’t seem to be moving much in there, though he can only imagine it’d probably be nearly impossible to try and so much as wiggle anyways. The rubbing causes Sn.ake to start to purr, to Ot.acon’s amazement; his head lolls back while his eyes flutter shut with bliss, a satisfied groan slipping out of him as his gut churns and gurgles around its meal.
He gets the feeling Sn.ake’s probably going to be like this for a while, but given that he basically saved his life… well, it couldn’t hurt to reward him a little, now could it?
— — —
Ot.acon’s heart feels like it’s about to leap up his throat when he sees the cyborg ninja, and no Sn.ake in sight.
He fails to stop the gasp that slips out of him when the ninja turns to face him in the exact same moment, making him stumble back and nearly trip over a thoroughly-trashed chair. “W-Wait—!” He pleads, afraid that this thing’s going to finish what he started now that Sn.ake was out of the way, but the cyborg easily closes the distance, stalking towards him in a predatory manner.
In the moment, Ot.acon’s notices a odd detail — there’s no sign of blood or injury on the ninja, but there is a subtle swell in his midsection, almost giving them the impression of maybe eating too much. He doesn’t get much of a chance to ponder on it, though; the cyborg easily hauls up his prey to eye-level, a hand fisted in the front of his coat and lifting him like he weighs nothing.
“P-Please don’t hurt me!” He squeaks, legs kicking uselessly, and to his mortification the cyborg just tilts his head and stares. He can’t see past the dark slits in his visor very well, but he can’t shake the feeling of being stared at intensely. Hungrily.
After a moment of letting him stew in his own fear, the cyborg — wait, didn’t he overhear Sn.ake calling him F.ox? — finally speaks.
“Relax, little mouse. I know just what to do with you.”
F.ox’s voice is gravelly, strained with lack of use and some underlying level of pain. If it weren’t for the fact he already emptied his bladder earlier, Ot.acon would’ve probably pissed himself all over again.
Now that he’s nearly face-to-face with the cyborg ninja, he’s able to get a much better look at the strange bulge in his belly. It hardly moves, save for the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he breathes, but if he tries to strain his ears he swears he can almost hear… something. It’s muffled, like shouting, and it sounds like it’s coming from…?
There’s the sound of cybernetics in motion and metal unclasping, and right when Ot.acon looks up in confusion he only gets the barest of glimpses at F.ox’s face before everything goes dark and warm and wet.
For a moment Ot.acon freezes up, his brain bluescreening as it struggles to process what’s happening. It’s only when he registers the tight slickness spreading and engulfing his shoulders does he process what’s happening; he’s being swallowed whole.
A shrill noise spills out of Ot.acon as he tries to squirm free, but it’s already too late for him. F.ox simply purrs, deep and powerful enough that he can feel it vibrating through the powerful muscles of his esophagus as it pulls him deeper into his core. Soon his arms are pinned to his sides, leaving him helpless and only able to whimper as he feels his head start to spill into the cyborg’s stomach.
The cyborg’s apparently already occupied stomach.
Ot.acon gasps as he’s forced into an unbelievably tight space that’s already being taken up by another body — who sounds awfully familiar judging by the grunts of exertion from having to struggle to get comfortable while another guy gets squeezed in on top of him.
Eventually the rest of his body joins him, leaving him tightly squeezed between the fleshy walls of their prison and the rigid body of a stranger; limbs entangled, they’re all but chest-to-chest if he had to guess from how he can feel the other guy’s breath fogging against his neck. Ot.acon squirms, whimpering.
“Just great,” a familiar voice grumbles. Oh. So that’s what happened to Sn.ake. “You should’ve just ran out of there I was keeping him busy.”
“I-I was scared! You think I’m just going to jump out of a locker and run off when there’s a cyborg ninja on the loose??” Ot.acon complains. Which is a bit of a weak excuse, considering that he was pretty enamored watching them fight where he could see them.
A sigh from F.ox — effectively their prison, now — vibrates around them, and he thinks he can feel pressure against where his back’s pressed against the slick, muscular walls. Now that he’s thinking about it… did he have some sort of technology for compacting his stomach? That would’ve explained the odd lump…
The cyborg mumbles to himself, pressing in, and the both of them squirm when their environment feels like it’s compressing them both even more. A heated whine slips out of Ot.acon, his face burning with a blush, because oh god this is way too close to his more intimate fantasies and he can’t even believe this is happening at all.
He thinks he can hear F.ox humming to himself, pleased with his catch, as everything starts to shift and sway — he must be heading somewhere else now. Sn.ake just grumbles again, clearly resigned to this, and he can only wonder just what the cyborg plans to do with them as he stalks off…
