#of claws and spiderwebs

[nothingtoseeherebyeexx]

this one will take me literal ages, so i’m posting a wip now

(spider-man au, for more info i’ve answered an ask a few days ago)

im also working on the next chapters of delicate, so the next one will hopefully be out soon

[gummi-stims]

Can i request a stimboard for Viola from Soul Calibur 5

🔮-🔮-🔮

🔮- x -🔮

🔮-🔮-🔮

[leviticusjewelry]

These are the Leviticus Crystal Talon and 2 Spider Web Rings. ✨ #spiderweb #spiderwebring #talon #crystals #shopsmall #bespokejewelry #cocktailring #claw https://www.instagram.com/p/CpYS718JOFa/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[celaenaeiln]

JL: Nightwing! It’s a delight to see you! You should come by more often.

Nightwing: Thank you! I’m so sorry, work has been piling up on me but I’ll try to drop by the office party this Sunday.

JL: Ofcourse! Looking forward to seeing you there. By the way, is Batman coming late?

Nightwing: No, I’ll be filling in for him today.

JL: Did something happen?

Nightwing: Nothing much, he’s just grounded.

JL: ???

48 hours earlier

Dick: Bruce, I’m telling you now and we’ve had this conversation before but you need to build a better rapport with your children. They look up to you as a father figure and your actions influence their behavior.

Bruce: …hmrgh

Dick: And you might not be aware but you unconconscious behavior is damaging. Tim has picked up your terrible habit of constantly working in front of a screen-it’s going to strain his eyes. He’s always inside too, so you need to make him go outside more. I’m not always here, I have an entire city to run, the titans need me, I'm mentoring hundreds of heroes, the Justice League calls on me to help them, and I need to keep up with my social life. The people in Bludhaven where I teach and work also call me if I’m gone for a day-the point is-I can’t always be playing second parent here in Gotham.

Bruce: ……hmrgh

Dick: Damian always looks up to you

Bruce: *side eyes*

Dick: He does! See you don’t even realize it! He wants to make you proud and Jason gets mad when you don’t make time for him because he cares too. Stephanie doesn’t have a dad she can turn to and it would mean the world to her if you took her out to an amusement park or something. When was the last time you spent time with her.

Bruce: ….hmrgh

Dick: And-

1 hour later

Dick: -that’s why you need to stop working, go to them right now, and bond with them.

Bruce:

Dick:

Bruce: ……...hmrgh

Dick: I’m waiting.

Bruce: *dragging himself off the batcave chair and begrudgingly trudging upstairs under Dick’s watchful eye*

Bruce: *listening to the sounds of his kids in the living room and pumping himself up* Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. Better relationships mean better teamwork. And Dick. Do it for him.

Bruce: *entering* *clearing his throat* Children. We will be going-

*The living room is in utter chaos. The cushions are strewn and ripped with stuffing coating the couches and floor which for some reason is stained yellow, the flower vase is shattered and so is the table it was sitting on, there’s string confetti on the chandelier, there’s spray paint and neon goo across the walls and in Tim’s hair, Jason has deep claw marks down his face as he wrestles with Damian who’s sporting massive bruise on his cheek and trying his hardest to bite him, Stephanie is dunking Tim’s face in a tub of soda which splashed everywhere while he’s ripping out Jason’s hair and also trying to kick Damian with his foot, the tv has massive spiderwebs and looping on tellatubies like a broken record machine, Titus is spitting out a feather while a random goose runs around honking while Alfred the cat chases after it at full speed, knocking down decades old paintings.*

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce:

Bruce: *rolling up his sleeves and stomping forward to join the fight* HMRGH.

[flangore]

❥ she loves me like a dog

feat.: Valentino & Vox/f!reader

summary: You try and run away from Valentino. It's an entirely stupid idea and backfires spectacularly.

warnings: nsfw content, noncon, physical + psychological abuse, unhealthy relationships, violence, punishments, manipulation, Valentino and Vox are their own warnings, guns, object insertion

Every demon in Hell, especially ones who had spent quite some time in the V's part of Pentagram City, knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.

With connections that spread like spiderwebs through every part of town, there was nowhere to be safe, nowhere to hide, given how Vox's eyes reached every street, every alley, a phone or a security camera always in each and every corner.

There was nowhere to hide — except for at the Hazbin Hotel, apparently under the protection of the Radio Demon. You had heard Vox whine and bitch about it at one point, anger dripping off his voice, and, despite knowing better, your heart had lept with hope. Days after, you had tried your hardest to ignore each of the silly ideas making themselves at home in your mind; had attempted to not think of running away, of a better life.

And yet, in the end, you hadn't been able to resist temptation.

Every demon in Hell knew that there was no escaping Valentino's grasp.

That was why you had only yourself to blame for the consequences now that he had caught ahold of you once more, the contract, signed with both of your names, floating next to your face in silent mockery.

Tears brimmed in your eyes; your heart threatened to drop out of your chest with how erratically it was beating.

“I'm kinda disappointed, baby”, Valentino drawled, accent coming through thickly, betraying his calm and collected act. A claw, painted golden, hooked underneath your chin, tilting it upwards until your neck ached, your height difference only adding to the unease curling in your stomach. “Tell me, why did you do feel the need to run away like that?”

Your throat felt tight.

“Come on, you can trust me. Trust us.”

The chains, made of red smoke and currently wound tightly enough to leave marks around your wrists and ankles, really did not make you feel like you were able to trust him. Neither did Vox's presence. Admittedly, he had always unnerved you even more than Valentino had, though, right now, his smirk was downright terrifying.

“Was it the working conditions?” Vox crooned, tone lathered with contempt, with amusement. “Were you unhappy with your job? Do tell us. We're always open to criticism, really.”

There was no explanation that could have excused your actions.

Valentino's smirk widened. “Yeah, babe. What was the issue? I mean, you really can't quit, not with our contract, so what was the purpose of trying to run away?”

“I remember just how grateful you were when Val offered you this opportunity years ago. Do you suddenly think you're too good for us?”

Those words, leaving Vox's mouth so easily, finally dragged you far enough back into reality for you to get a noise out, high-pitched and terrified.

“No”, you choked out, quickly shaking your head, panic making you tremble. “No, that's not—”

“No? Then tell us the reason, mi amor.”

You were pretty certain you were in the middle of a panic attack, lungs feeling too small to take any oxygen in. Not that it mattered right now. “I don't know, I wasn't thinking—”

“That's such a shame. If you at least had an explanation, we could go easy on you.” Vox clicked his tongue, not looking like it was a shame at all. “Val, will you do the honours?”

“Already on it, babe.”

With how large of a being Valentino was, it was all too easy to forget just how quickly he was able to move. Pain bloomed on your cheek, your head spinning, and it took quite a moment for you to realise that he had hit you with the hilt of his gun, custom-made.

In the back of your mind, you wondered whether the rhinestones on it had left indents on your skin.

A metallic taste spread in your mouth. “Please—”

“It's a little late to beg”, Vox remarked.

Valentino's smile was all teeth, unkind in nature. “But it's fine, sweetheart, don't worry. I won't fire you.” His hand cupped your aching cheek, then grabbed ahold of your hair, yanking your head back painfully. “You'll be with us forever. Aren't you grateful? We just have to teach you a lesson. Can't have the bitches acting up, now can we?”

You really had no choice but to nod, tears dripping down your face, surely smearing your makeup, though that was the least of your worries as, suddenly, your bonds shifted, chains pulling taut, changing your position until your legs were wrenched apart.

Panties were rarely part of your work clothing, but being fully bare in front of them right now made bile rise up in your throat.

“See, I wanted to fuck you, remind you who you belong to”, Valentino commented, sounding terribly nonchalant. The muzzle of his gun pressed against the soft skin of your inner thigh, the metal cold. “But Voxxy had better ideas.”

Your heart must have stopped at one point, you were certain of it. This must have been a fever dream, a hallucination.

Despite the panicked thoughts running through your scrambled mind, you didn't protest; had no time to, either. Not that it would have been any use.

Before you knew it, Valentino pushed the gun into you, dry, fuck—, the pain making you cry out, voice high-pitched. Unceremoniously, he shoved it further inside, unrelenting until the hilt of it rested against the lips of your cunt, your whole body tense with agony.

“There we go.” Your eyes flickered over to Vox, the way he was palming himself through his trousers obvious even with your blurry sight. “That's hot. Hah—, look, she's even wet.”

At this point, you hardly noticed that you were screaming, throat aching, the thoughts of running away by now merely an unrealistic fantasy, silly, like the wishes of a spoiled child.

You were, in fact, not wet; instead, blood was easing the glide at least a little, albeit it hardly offered any relief.

You must've torn somewhere. Placing the pain seemed to be an impossible task when simply everything hurt.

At least it wasn't going to get worse from here on — it couldn't possibly.

Valentino just loved to prove you wrong.

“Hey, you think we can fit a dick in there at the same time?”

[spider-stark]

THE GOLD TANKARD

Benjicot Blackwood x Smallfolk!Reader

Summary - Benji is a regular at the tavern you work at—and you're starting to think he's forgetting his coin on purpose.

Warnings - fem!reader, kieran burton fan cast, all characters 18+, suggestive/sexual language, not edited bc I'm lazy and wrote this for fun in like an hour

Word Count - 650+

!MINORS DNI!

// masterlist // send me your thoughts // comments & reblogs appreciated! //

The Gold Tankard was a shit-house of an inn. Famous mostly for its basement-tavern, it had been built ages ago in the heart of Pennytree—a derelict village lying smack in the center of the disputed border of House Blackwood and House Bracken. 

After many, many years of existence, the Tankard has fallen into a blatant state of decay. Cracks spiderweb up the side of stone walls, woodworms infest the cedar roof overhead, and the carpets are stained with beer and piss and gods-knows-what-else. 

Still, it remains in-business—bringing in coin from the many knights and men traveling through Pennytree, so desperate for a hot meal and a bed that they’re willing to overlook the scuttling bugs and musty aroma. 

And being the resident barmaid isn’t so bad, you suppose. 

At least, not when Benjicot Blackwood is a near-nightly patron of the Tankard. While he's forever forgetting his copper, he's always quite creative in finding other ways to pay for your service—and you have found the Lord to be quite talented with his tongue… 

His grip tight, Benji drags you up the dimly lit stairs leading from the tavern to the narrow halls of the inn above. 

“M’lord,” the title slips past your lips, giggling as you protest, “my shift isn’t over! The girls will be needing me behind the bar and–” 

Benji cuts you off with a groan. Tugging your wrist, he shoves your back flush against the chilly stone wall, caging your body with his. “Is that all you care about? What the girls need?” He leans in close, the tip of his nose brushing against yours. “What about what I need?” 

Pure, unbridled lust dilates his pupils, his storm-cloud eyes nearly devoid of color as they drag over your face. They snag on your lips—and, instinctively, he rolls his hips against yours, a growing hardness pressed to your thigh. 

“I care about getting paid,” you choke out, clawing at the remaining shreds of your composure. “Not all customers are as mingy with their coin as you, M’lord.” 

Warmth fans across your cheeks as Benji huffs a laugh. “So you think I’m mingy, do you?” 

A scowl twists your features, heat rushing to your cheeks. You can tell from his tone—so impish and cheeky—that he’s poking fun at you. What word would a highborn girl have used, then? Oh, you’re so frugal M’lord! So utterly parsimonious! 

Shoving against his weight, you grind out, “I have work to tend to, M’lord–” 

Benji’s grip on you tightens, his other hand coming to cradle the side of your head, fingers weaving themselves into your hair as he presses you back against the wall—harder this time. 

“Oh, don’t be so sensitive, love,” he tuts, lips grazing against your cheekbone, leaving soft kisses in their wake. “You know how I adore your little commonors dialect.” 

Your eyes narrow, frustration bubbling up inside of you. 

“If you wish to insult someone, then I may suggest the whorehouse down the street, M’lord. Barmaids are not forced to endure such abuse—especially from unpaying customers.” 

“Abuse?” Benji’s breath tickles your ear, a shiver crawling down your spine. “Is that what I’m doing?” He pauses, teeth nipping at your earlobe. Your breath catches, and you feel him smirk as he purrs, “Abusing you?” 

Your pulse races, your heart hammering against your chest so fiercely that you fear Benji can feel it, his chest pressed firm against yours. You feel dizzy and off-balance, unable to think of anything other than him—his fingers twined in your hair, his lips on your jaw, his cock against your thigh. 

You feel it waning—the last bits of your composure, torn to ribbons under his touch. It’s only when his mouth comes to rest against yours, catching your bottom lip between his teeth, that you finally give in. 

Between strangled moans, you say, “You’ll have to be quick."

Benji’s grin is painfully arrogant as he rolls his hips again. “Oh, baby—” a low, raspy chuckle sets a fire in your belly—“quick isn’t in my vocabulary.” 

a/n - idk man I can't write smut so this where it ends I guess lmao. kinda wanna explore more with this reader cause I like the idea of a lil barmaid and benji but we'll see!

as stated in warnings, this wasn't edited in the slightest and I wrote it super quick last night, so apologies for any errors!

tag list 🫶🖤 - @bearwithegg @jacaerysgf @lenasvoid @valdezthg @xzydra11 @snixx2088 @lianna75 @kennafild @ghostinvenus @heystaystray @but-i-write-so-i-must-count @a-song-for-ages @nixtape-foryou @kezibear

[yandere-sins]

Today, I was thinking about Kar'niss the drider, who—mad and confused—stumbles over a nearly dead darling in the Shadowlands.

You're already as good as gone, life sapped out of you mercilessly by the shadows gnawing at you. They burn your skin and dig into your very soul while strangling you slowly, agonizingly to death, trying to take over your body and make you into one of the lifeless puppets wandering around unprotected. It's your own fault for getting into this mess, yet you prayed and wished for nothing more than to be released from the torture.

Perhaps that's why it's so surprising when instead of eternal, restless death, your body is enveloped in a gentle light, bright and freeing you of the shadows that quickly retreat. You gasp and wheeze as you jolt back to life, coughing and contorting until you finally get your own mind back.

It hurts to look, yet you cannot help but stare into the blinding light, trying to determine where it's coming from. Only now can you make out faint noises coming from it, the shadows having wrecked your hearing badly enough so that you didn't notice it before. Metal clanking and a voice. It almost makes you believe in a god again, as you mistake the light to be talking to you.

Imagine the shock, the ice-cold shiver that runs through you when your eyes finally adjust. When the real monster behind the voice comes into the light, mumbling and yelling nonsensical phrases about 'feeding the shadows' and 'her majesty's will'. Half of its body resembles a man, the other half is spider through and through. His skin seems more leathery and armored, and his fingertips are contorted into claws. What you thought were dark jewels adorning his face turn out to be eyes, and you choke on a scream as they blink, their focus suddenly shifts entirely on you.

"Who are you? What are you doing, feeding the shadows?! It's not right, it's not...! Ah, yes, your majesty! Your light guides us, protects us. We are eternally grateful!"

As if almost dying and being rescued by a drider isn't bad enough, madness seems to be dripping off of him the moment he notices you through his hazy mind. You can tell that there is no reasoning with your savior, no last bit of sanity to appeal to, your instincts tell you. He leans down, and you cower, trying to get away. But the moment you leave the lantern's glow, you feel the shadows reaching for you again. You have no idea what's going on as the drider makes another step forward, the light enveloping you again, but you start to listen to his rambles, the way he calls out to some queen, reverently so.

And your blood runs cold when, in his mumbles, you hear him call you a gift.

"My queen, are you giving them to me? Is this my reward? I will not complain about this most generous gift, majesty!"

Your arm is caught by him quicker than you can get away, though his grip only tightens when you struggle, his skin feeling wrong against yours. Appalling. But when you stop thrashing like a fly caught in a spiderweb, he gently pulls you to a stand, waiting for you to regain your strength before he starts walking, tugging you with him. The shadows want to reach for you, pull you back, and you fearfully step closer to the drider, making him chuckle.

There's nothing you can do, his grip on you firm and the shadows being the only alternative to walking with him. He keeps blubbering and laughing about his thoughts, conversing with someone you can't see but who he seems to revere. But at the same time, you feel at least one pair of eyes fixating on you in every moment of your journey, even if you don't know which one is looking. Everything about him is freaking you out, but when you reach a massive building with people walking around, you can't help but feel thankful to the drider for bringing you back to civilization.

That is, until someone tries to talk to you. He does not like that.

Letting go of your arm, he snatches you by your waist instead, your feet dangling above the ground while you feel the air being forced out of your lungs from the pressure he puts you against his chest with. It's all so unnatural, and you can't help but struggle in fear when, suddenly, his bellowing voice makes you freeze.

"NO! This is my gift! Our Queen has gifted them to me! They are not for you to take! You are not worthy!"

And just like that, after baring his fangs and driving away the people you thought were going to help you, his anger disappears almost immediately as he cradles you, cooing much softer words in your direction than to the others. "It's alright, sweet gift. They'll not take you from me. We'll be together, as has our Queen decided."

With that, you feel like your body is flying through the air, clutched against him, as his many legs are swiftly put into motion. When you force yourself to look over his shoulder, you are already far up in the air, watching the ground distance itself more and more. All you can do is cling onto him in fear of falling to your death, and he breathes you in deeply before you two reach the top, his lips contorted into a smile when you finally meet his eyes again.

"Mine, all mine. My sweet little gift."

NSFW-ish below

I'd like to think he has taken one of the free towers that are more or less empty and spun a pretty web for his darling inside. Kar'niss takes care of you, rarely letting you outside (only if you convinced him over the span of days that you'd so like to take a stroll with him) because he really doesn't want anyone else to see, touch, or talk to what is his, even when he needs to go and guide souls to the tower. You will probably go as insane as he is, listening to his rambling and trying to appease him when you accidentally say something to send him into a fit of rage.

There are so many ways to punish you, too. Simply leaving you in the darkness after your almost death reverts you into a crying, sobbing mess that Kar'niss will love to soothe you, dedicating himself to cuddling and cradling you in his arms and lolling around in the web with you while he tells you he and the grace of her majesty are always with you. 

He's also just painful to be around, especially when he's so irrational, and you cannot move out of the way of his fangs, claws, and legs. Everything about him feels strange, giving you no comfort, but he can hurt you so easily it makes you paranoid. When you ask him to, or he's currently obsessing over you, his touch can be gentle, and Kar'niss has proven his soft caresses to you many times. But if a leg or his hands accidentally swipes you, you bleed. It's just how things are. 

Also, suppose you displease him by speaking against his queen or setting him off by denying him the pleasure of being with you. In that case, he'll just stop caring for you, sitting outside the tower where he keeps you, and sulks. (The Absolute is probably telling him to go back, so he's also bickering a bit with her. Kind of an impressive achievement on your side.) He listens to you and waits until you start begging and pleading for him (or anyone) to come back and help you, to not leave you there to rot like this. Yet, Kar'niss makes you suffer for a while longer to punish you while ensuring no one comes near you. 

But it does excite him when he goes back, and you cry and call to him and apologize for what you did, swearing you won't do it again. Excites him a lot. You do love him too, don't you? Of course you do... his queen would not have given you to him if that wasn't the case. You are meant for each other, after all. So he can forgive you this time.

Once he realizes you're in need of a parasite, he'll probably start connecting his disturbed mind with yours, giving you severe brain damage as you are flooded with his thoughts. But it'll finally give him the chance to show you exactly what he wants. Force you to believe in the Absolute like him by torturing you with his devotion and admiration until you break. Now, you'll finally understand your purpose as his mate, too. Accept him. Share his love for you and his majesty.

And since he has a new deity talking to him that isn't Lolth, who knows he cannot have children, Kar'niss might be convinced that he's supposed to make babies for the Absolute. He can't, technically (and maybe you can't either), but that doesn't stop him from talking about how he'll give his majesty new worshippers and how the two of you will be so worthy of her and have Absolute-babies. Kar'niss gets so excited at the idea of you being full and round from his offspring he almost drools, unable to wait any longer once the seed has been planted in his shattered mind.

So all you can do is ask him nicely to prepare you, to make sure he doesn't rip something or is gentle with those sharp claws and teeth no matter how eager he is. Just imagine how happy he'd be when you tell him that you could possibly be pregnant after all the orgasms he gave you—a lie, but you just really need him to stop. He'll be enraged if he finds out that you are not, but hey, he can always try again. And maybe someone will come to help him with his plan. Maybe Araj Oblodra could be convinced to offer a child or spider eggs to quench the Drider's baby frenzy, or the Absolute will give him a child like she gave him a darling.

Either way, until he dies, you're not getting out of this. And even then, someone would have to find you first and rescue you.

If they don't deem you too far gone already.

[orderforbrian]

hi we saw your vibe from across the room and were wondering if we could burn down your archive🕷️🔥

[Start ID: Digital drawing of Jon and Martin from The Magnus Archives, both as web-aligned avatars. Martin is a fat, mixed Polish/Korean man with a beauty mark left to his lips and right side of his neck. He has dark, shaggy hair with a large white streak on a front bang - his sideburns and eyebrows have streaks of white as well. He wears a spider earring, a denim jacket, and a black shirt with a spiderweb design. Jon is a thin Persian man with long, curly hair, most of it tied back in a ponytail. He has a prominent streak of white on his front bangs and some in his eyebrows. He's wearing a high collared, white shirt with a black tie, as well as a dark, cardigan vest with a mix of argyle and spiderweb design. Both of them look to opposing sides with mischievous expressions, one fang displayed in their smiles. The left half of Martin's face is shadowed and has four purple/pink glowing eyes. The right half of Jon's face is shadowed and has four green/white glowing eyes. Martin extends a hand holding a glowing cigarette towards Jon's hand - both their fingers are sharp like claws. The cigarette smoke travels off screen to the right. The background is a muted purple with white spiderwebs in adjacent corners. End ID.]

[merakiui]

Oh, what about...teasing the creature in the tank. Not in a mean way but making sure to bend over in front of it and press the titties against the glass when cleaning it...it's not like the creature is gonna escape and do something...

👁 👁 oh, that’s amazing…….. teasing the creature in risqué ways and the next day the researchers or other cleaning staff find aggressive claw marks criss-crossing over each other on the other side of the glass. They think the creature might have been agitated (and it was, just not in the way they’re thinking).

Next time you tease the creature while cleaning and they slam their body against the glass in hopes of breaking free, be aware that cracks are slowly starting to spiderweb across the glass. Just a little more pressure and soon the creature will be free. :)

Tako who has been diligently working on breaking free in secret, whereas the eels are determined to escape even if their attempts are made obvious when the glass gets more cracks and scrapes in it. They just want to finally get back at you for all the teasing you’ve been doing. Although maybe it doesn’t appear like teasing to them. In their minds, you keep telling them you’re ready to be marked and mated every time you sway your hips near their tanks.

[dearsnow]

MIGUEL O’HARA RELATIONSHIP HEADCANONS

- how he is in a relationship (miguel o’hara x gn!reader, fluff)

a/n - i love the spiderverse movies so much i decided it would be fun to write for them, so i hope you guys enjoy this little surprise! 💕

- he’s not one to show affection, considering everything that happened to him, but he does show his love in tiny admissions. his hand on the small of your back, giving you one of his prized empanadas, and making you walk on the inside of the sidewalk are just a couple ways he tells you he loves you.

- he has had his own problems with keeping people close to him and it’s lightly reflected in the way he talked to you when he first met you. later in your relationship, though, he thinks he would rather die than see you hurt, and he knows he will always protect you.

- miguel secretly loves it when you play with his hair, though he is way too prideful to ever let you know.

- after arguments, he always apologizes. it’s a big step for him, and he just wants you to know that no matter what, he will never hate you.

- he usually keeps something of yours on his person as a reminder of one of the things he’s fighting for. when he’s bored, he’ll fiddle with it and smile very slightly when he remembers exactly how he got it.

- while he is gruff, stoic, and slightly egotistical with other people, he is incredibly gentle with you. everyone can see it, but only a few people are bold enough to make fun of him for it.

- he sometimes takes walks outside of headquarters to cool off, and he likes to bring you along for them. he’ll show you all the places he loves without ever saying that he loves them.

- he’s incredibly scared of the effect you have on him. he’s supposed to be tough, and absolutely no one is supposed to penetrate his emotional armor. you, however, broke down all his walls for god knows what reason. though it’s slightly terrifying, he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

- if you’re being too loud, he will absolutely shut your mouth with spiderwebs. he’ll make sure you aren’t hurt, of course, and it’s incredibly funny to you.

- if you’re hurt, he’ll patch up your wounds himself just to scold you for being careless. he might seem mad, but he’s really just scared of losing you just like he lost so many other people.

- he lets you play with his claws when you’re bored. he will sit there at his chair as you paint them, cut paper with them, or fidget with them as he’s doing his work.

[nothingtoseeherebyeexx]

sped here at the speed of light to demand to know what "of claws and spiderwebs" is about. such a cool name it is entirely possible i am obsessed already.

ive been DYING to talk abt this

its a spider-man au and it was inspired by across the spider-verse (i have been obsessed w those films since 2018 soo)

i don’t follow the movies’ plot so it’s not really spoiler-y but i’ll explain everything under the cut!

OK SO

basically the story revolves around the black brothers (no surprise here): the black family used to be a big industry in the technological field, but after being caught selling weapons to villains, sirius and regulus’ parents (along w many other important and rich people) were arrested, and the company was shut down.

sirius and regulus ended up living w alphard (who used to be the mind behind the greatest inventions before he left the company, when business started to get shady), and although they struggle w money, alphard wants them to have the best education possible, so they go to prestigious schools (sirius studies physics in uni w james and peter and they’re all besties, regulus is still in high school but has amazing grades)

BUT!!!

one day regulus found out uncle alphard was actually a criminal, the prowler, and that’s how he could afford to support his two boys. however, when alphard’s health started to quickly deteriorate, regulus decided that, to let his brother have the future he deserved, he was going to take his uncle’s place in the world of crime. regulus and alphard begin to work together, making technologically advanced gadgets for the prowler and getting that bag!!

(alphard despised the idea of making regulus into a criminal, but reg is set on his idea and the two bond over their passion for tech)

in the mean time, sirius went on a school trip to visit a (for now unnamed) lab and got bitten by a radioactive spider: he got powers, showed them to james and peter as soon as he could, and decided to become spider-man and fight crime!!

of course, this will lead sirius to fighting his own brother, so that’ll be fun…

A FEW MORE THINGS!!

euphemia is captain of the police, and james admires her a lot, so he starts to investigate on his own: he notices that the prowler’s tech is very similar to some prototypes the black family was working on, so he wants to help sirius discover the criminal’s identity…not sure how well that will go for him

remus and lily work in the lab sirius was visiting when he got bitten as apprentices and the spider was their secret experiment

reg is a skater boy

bellatrix was thought dead, but actually she had also become a criminal under the name of doc ock (my woman is deranged and a tech nerd sooo)

[charliedawn]

forgive me if I’m not explaining this concept properly as I am currently SOBBING MY EYES OUT FROM YOUR FANFICTION CHARLIE.

imagine that once all the slashers left when they were deemed sane they all accidentally moved to the same street or something and we got Slashers the Sitcom

this is the only thought I’ve had since reading that that didn’t make me cry so I felt you should have it

the Hannibal’s should be their creepy out of town tourists or new neighbors that get a one season spin off show.

You’re doing great with your writing Charlie 😁

(Here is my fluff apology. 😉)

The nights had become too quiet. The facility once teeming with chaos, tension, and the unnerving energy of its infamous inhabitants now felt empty. You tried to adjust, finding solace in your routine, but nothing could fill the void they had left behind. The slashers—your slashers—were gone.

You had heard whispers about where they went, rumors from the outside world about strange occurrences, but nothing solid. Sometimes, you found yourself wondering about each of them—what they were doing, if they were safe, or if they even thought about you.

Then one night, as you sat in your office, the silence was broken. A chill ran down your spine, the hairs on your neck standing on end as you sensed…something. The feeling was familiar, one you hadn’t felt since they had left, and it made your heart pound. But before you could make sense of it, the lights flickered and the door creaked open.

You blinked, frozen in place, as Freddy Krueger strolled in, his signature smirk plastered across his face. "Missed me, sweetheart ?"

Before you could respond, the room was suddenly filled with more faces—Bo, Jason, Pennywise, Brahms, and the rest of the slashers, all filing in like they had never left. All the slashers you had helped during your career. All the friends you had made along the way. They could barely fit all inside the room and you were suddenly surrounded.

"Boys, boys, give ��em some space !" Bo barked, pushing through the group. "Can’t just barge in like that !" His gruff voice carried the same Southern twang, but his eyes were softer than you remembered.

"What…What’s going on ?" you managed to choke out, your mind spinning as you looked at each of them. "Why are you all here ?"

Freddy chuckled, running his claw along the edge of your desk. "We missed ya, Nurse Y/N. Couldn’t leave ya in this dump, could we ?" His grin widened as the others nodded in agreement, some more subtly than others. "So we decided…why not kidnap ya ?"

Jason, standing silently at the back of the room, shifted uncomfortably, but even he nodded, his masked face giving you a reassuring glance.

You were dumbfounded.

"You’re not serious…"

Brahms stepped forward, his voice soft and pleading. "We didn’t want you to be lonely…You took care of us. Now we’ll take care of you." He reached out, his fingers brushing against your arm before he held your hand.

Before you could react further, Penny popped up beside you, his grin sharp and wide. "Guess what, Nurse Y/N ? We’ve all decided to move to Elm Street !" His voice was filled with manic glee, and he leaned in closer. "And you’re coming with us."

Your eyes widened.

Elm Street ? What was that ?

Freddy’s chuckle darkened. "Oh yeah, baby. We’ve got the perfect place for you, right in the middle of our little setup." He leaned closer, his claw resting lightly against your cheek. "You’re gonna love it. It’s got that…cozy, homicidal feel to it. With spiderwebs and we spent weeks painting the walls. Yer gonna love it, I tell ya !"

"Come on, darlin'," Bo added, crossing his arms. "Ain’t no point stayin’ in this dead place when you could be livin’ with us. We got a home now. Together."

Your heart raced. This was too much. How ? When ? What ? "But why—why would you want me to live with you all ? I thought you’d…want your freedom."

Michael stepped forward then, towering over the others. He didn’t speak, of course, but the way he placed his hand on your shoulder told you everything you needed to know. You were part of their family now, and they weren’t going to leave you behind.

"You gave us freedom, sweetheart," Freddy purred, his voice softer now. "But what’s freedom without a little fun ? And we all know you’re the one who kept us in line. Plus, we’ve kinda grown attached. I MEAN BORED ! Yeah. Bored. ‘Cause ya know…we slashers feel bored when we ain’t got ya around to mess with and shit…"

Bo raised an eyebrow and smirked at Freddy before elbowing him playfully.

"Nice save, dumbass."

Freddy flipped him off in response while you tried to make sense of everything.

Brahms clung to your side, his eyes wide and desperate. "Don’t make us go without you again…please."

You felt a wave of warmth rush over you, despite the absurdity of it all. These killers, these monsters who had tormented so many, had come back for you. Not out of revenge, not to pull you into some twisted nightmare, but because they genuinely wanted you with them.

You swallowed hard, trying to process it all. "So…you really all want me to move to Elm Street ? With you ?"

Freddy grinned, slapping Jason on the back. "Told ya they’d come around."

Bo sighed, rolling his eyes. "We ain’t askin’, darlin’. We’re tellin’ ya. Yer comin’ with us. Now, move that cute butt up yer chair and let’s go."

Pennywise chuckled. "We already packed your things, Nursey." He gestured dramatically to the doorway, where your bags were already neatly stacked.

You blinked, completely dumbfounded, before a small laugh escaped your lips. This was crazy. You were crazy. "You packed my things ? But…what about the staff ? What about the board ?"

Jack smirked before giving you a paper which wrote that the board had been warned and that since there were no more patients inside the hospital, you and the staff should move in Elm Street to keep an eye on the slashers.

"All taken care of, sweet cheeks."

Your eyes widened and they filled with tears.

They must have spent weeks to get that authorisation and convince the board. You looked up at them and Patricia smiled before wiping your tears with her thumbs.

"Now now, dear. Don’t cry. It’s okay. We were not going to abandon you. Not when you never abandoned us."

"But how did you…How did you even plan for all this ? How did you…?" You were at a loss for words.

Freddy shrugged and playfully winked at you. "What can I say ? We’re thoughtful that way."

In that moment, you realized there was no point in arguing. This strange, dysfunctional group had wormed their way into your life, into your heart. And now, they were offering you a place with them—a very surprising tempting offer that you knew you had no choice but to accept. Not because you didn’t have a choice, but because you genuinely wanted to.

"Alright," you sighed, smiling softly. "I’ll come with you."

The room erupted into cheers—well, as much as this group of killers could cheer. Freddy whooped, Bo grinned, and even Jason’s eyes sparkled with something close to contentment. Brahms hugged you tightly, and Pennywise cackled in delight.

You couldn’t help but laugh, despite everything. Maybe Elm Street wasn’t the safest place in the world, but with them…it didn’t seem so bad. And as you stepped outside the facility for the last time, surrounded by your unlikely family, you realized you weren’t going to miss the quiet anymore.

You were going home…

"WELCOME TO ELM STREET, BABY !"

[bitethedevil]

I swear, I’m minutes away from pulling out a giant bulletin board and covering it in pieces of string that connect Rafael to every single event in the game. I feel like a crazy person, but I know that he basically spiderwebbed most of the plot together.



Goddamn it, anon (said lovingly). Now I feel like making my own too. Because I swear, he pops up all over the place, even just for stuff that’s not even plot relevant.

Spot the Devil: Raphael's Involvement in the plot

I’ll start out with letters and books I’ve found that made me go “hmmmm”.

Letter in the Harpy Nest (Maybe)

When you’ve saved Mirkon he mentions something about a nest nearby. If you get to it there is a ring, a journal, and a letter. The letter is what made me go “hmm”. You can read the full thing here. Basically, a guy named Edmund tells wife/girlfriend that she doesn’t have to worry about someone named Maggie Two-Fingers anymore, because he has settled a debt. To pay off said debt, he makes a deal with a cambion and becomes a warlock:

”[…] I took the deal the cambion offered. I'm not going to say I had no choice, because that would be a lie. But I don't regret it. I'm a new man. I feel strong for the first time in my life. Aside from being awoken in the middle of the night by the smell of sulphur (he likes to drop by to 'see how everything is going') I have no complaints […]”

Now, there was a journal too, but I don’t believe the two things were related, even though the journal talks about a devil too. From what I can see, the journal is an easter egg for a campaign called ‘Tomb of Annihilation’. Besides, Edmund is going to Icewind Dale and the campaign takes place in Chult.

It just makes sense to me if its Raphael. We know he hangs out near the grove because we get jumpscared by him before going to this area. It could be our boy and with how much he pops up constantly it wouldn’t surprise me.

A Pleasurable Deal (Maybe)

You can pry this theory from my cold dead hands: Raphael was involved in making this play. It stinks of him.

So, A Pleasurable Deal is an erotic play. The plot isn’t completely written out, but a cambion, who is named Carlisle in the play, is involved.

“Carlisle: Weep not, young man, though free your wife has fled,

And comfort found in comrade's arms and bed.

She licks her lips and cries his name, oh my!

And now you seek to be the apple of her eye?”

Carlisle basically helps a man named Robert get a bigger dick, or…something along those lines. The ”apple of her eye” line is just so Raphael. The whole thing is, to be honest. In the A Pleasurable Deal: The Shocking Truth, it’s revealed that the author sold her soul to make it:

“Interviewer: So .. what was your deal?

Harp: I beg your pardon?

Interviewer: In fact, this was your directorial debut, wasn't it? You couldn't even get published in the tabloid 'Baldur's Bash' before this play came out. Did you honestly trade your soul for an erotic play?

Harp: I- all right, we're done here.”

I mean, come on. This is so him. It’s right up his alley.

Devil Don’t Rhyme

This is a book you can find in the Devil’s Den. Devil Don’t Rhyme is definitely about him:

“[This is a heroic fantasy in verse form, told in the first person by a bold poet who challenges a devil (clearly modelled on Raphael) to an improvised poetry contest to win back the soul of his lover. The following couplet has been circled in red ink.]

'If the line doesn’t scan,' the devil sneers, 'you forfeit your soul and end in tears.' / 'Ha! I’ll keep my time and make my rhyme, with vim and snap and no "down came the claw" crap.'”

Which is just so fucking funny to me. He has been seething and underlining the parts that prove it’s about him.

Alright, onto actual events: Netheril

Raphael was there when Netheril fell. He told us in the Devil’s Den. He has been searching for the Crown of Karsus ever since. He saw the entirety of Karsus’s fuck-up, but didn’t manage to snatch up the Crown of Karsus itself. We do know, however, that he has other Netherese artifacts (the Archivist says so). The Regalia of Karsus were three objects and Raphael has at least one, meaning that if Raph gets the crown, he has a much bigger chance at actually controlling it and using it like it's supposed to be used. This might also be why Mephistopheles hasn't used it: he doesn't have the other artifacts to properly harness its powers.

There are also theories that he has been skulking about and trying to find it after. There’s a really well written theory by @firlionemoontav that connects him to Lenore from the Arcane Tower in the Underdark. He has left no stone unturned.

Orpheus and Vlaakith

I learned about this from an amazing theory post made by @certifieddilfenjoyer

When you go to the Astral Plane, near Orpheus, there is this Githyanki slate that you can find. It depicts Vlaakith making a deal with a Devil, “his face twisted with wry charm”, for the Astral prism. Yeah, Orpheus’ imprisonment? Raphael helped with that. He even taunts Orpheus while he waits for us to approach him and says something about him looking good in chains or something along those lines (kinky old man yaoi).

And honestly, it makes perfect sense as to why he has the hammer then. The hammer has multiple purposes, but in About Creation of the Orphic Hammer he mentions it as “insurance policy”:

“The Hammer is not a weapon, it is an insurance policy. Its function is specific, but its utility is boundless. No chains forged by infernal hand can withstand its power, for its core is a metalifferous compound combining the purest of essence of all Nine hells. If I should ever need to liberate the prisoners held in the Iron City of Dis, to shatter the vaults of Nargus, or even to free the child of Gith, my hammer will be equal to the task.”

Makes good sense because what he has done with the Astral Prism is a pretty big deal and hard to undo otherwise.

Moonrise Towers, the Gauntlet of Shar and Astarion

So, Raphael makes a deal with the architect of Moonrise Towers, who you also see wandering around the House of Hope. The architect gives up his soul in exchange for Raphael ending Ketheric’s army.

To do that, he sends Yurgir who is tasked with killing every last justiciar. Raphael then makes a deal with one of the justiciars who he then turns into a bunch of rats so that Yurgir can’t fulfill his contract.

We then help Yurgir or kill him, and Raphael helps us with Astarion’s scars. (This is just me theorizing from here) I find it kind of interesting that Raphael seems to know so much about Astarion. You get the feeling that he has obviously done his research on all of the companions, but with Astarion he makes that nasty “you’ve kept your clothes on this entire time? How unlike you” comment. Astarion would be such an easy target to go after, which makes me believe that Raph definitely knew beforehand about Astarion AND Mephistopheles’ deal with Cazador, but he hasn’t been able to pettily do something about it before the things that happen in BG3. But he has kept an eye on it. He can’t be seen defying his father like that directly, after all. I just find it hard to believe that Raph wouldn't jump at the business opportunity of 7000 desperate vampires hiding in Baldur's Gate. Like he definitely knows.

Gortash

Raphael bought Gortash from his parents when he was a kid, and Gortash eventually got out. It’s quite possible that Gortash only knew about the Crown of Karsus because of Raphael. He even went through Raphael’s house to steal the crown (and probably took a portal from there to Cania).

Might also be the only reason that he would ever make a deal with Zariel. He knows the Hells and how they work. In a way its even more of a “fuck you” that he goes to Zariel because she is far above Raphael as she is the Archdevil of Avernus (and thus she is sort of Raph’s boss). We also don't know what Gortash gets in return for handing Karlach to Zariel. It's speculated that it has something to do with the construction of the Steel Watch, but it wouldn't surprise me if peace from Raphael was a part of it too.

A world without Raphael

So, basically: had Raphael not been there, Orpheus would be free and a whole people would have had very different lives under someone else than the Vlaakiths, because Orpheus would have rebelled and told everyone what she did to Gith (his mother). We wouldn’t have had the Astral Prism to protect us, but on the other hand, we might not even have had the whole tadpole business to deal with anyway if Gortash didn’t know where the Crown of Karsus was. The whole thing could literally have been avoided.

(Thank you for the ask <3)

[veinsfullofstars]

🕸️Kirbtober 2024 Day 2: Revenge 🕸️

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Dark Meta Knight and Taranza, the latter looming behind the former with violent intent in his four front-facing eyes, his six hands clenched into shaking fists and curled into claws and raised over his head to conjure a pair of glowing spiderwebs. Meanwhile, the knight stands in blissful ignorance in the foreground, a mug of steaming coffee in one hand, a rolled-up newspaper in the other, glancing off in confusion as a thought bubble over his head reads, “Why do I hear boss music?” END ID.)

Based on the implication from KTD’s Dededetour! that DMK might be responsible for Sectonia’s corruption, indirectly or otherwise.

Previous Day | Next Day | Prompt List (made by @/paintpanic)

Started on 08/30/24, finished on 08/31/24. | Kirbtober 2023 Comp

[redfoxwritesstuff]

KittyCat (Vox x Kitty!Demon Reader)

CW: Public sex, heats, electric play, collars, public nudity, breeding, creampie Rated: Adult Summary: Being a cat demon, you suffered some of the most extreme heat cycles in all of hell. Every few weeks you went out of your mind with the need to be bred. It didn't matter who, when, where or how.

It was a good thing you belonged to Vox. But what happens when your cycle sneaks up on you, slamming into you a little earlier than expected while Vox is at a meeting? Can you make it to your powerful lover before someone else takes you or will you fall for the first male you see?

You were everything Vox thought he could never have. At least, not that would willingly want him. You were a cat personified. Not in the way that some sinners were. No, you were long elegant lines and an agility that mesmerized him. He struggled to believe that this wasn’t how you always were, that you hadn’t spent your living life with the pointed ears atop your head and long thin tail that told so much of your moods. 

It was love at first sight for Vox. Or perhaps obsession. Maybe you were just his soulmate. It didn’t matter. He had stopped at nothing until what you were was his. 

That’s what made Vox both love and hate your biology. Your cycle ruled your emotions and your body. In the privacy of his own penthouse, oh how he loved the way you would rub up against him, present yourself and beg for him to breed you. He was delighted to indulge in your needy whimpers and whines, taking you through your heat every few weeks. 

He couldn’t always be there for you, though. Sometimes, he lost track of time. Sometimes he was caught up in meetings. Sometimes your heat snuck up on you just as much as him. 

That’s what he realized happened now as you slunk down the hall. Your skirt was so short it nearly didn’t exist, even by hell’s standards. It was one he had gotten you for in the privacy of your home, to wear for him. The crop top you wore was nearly torn in two, hiding your breasts but only just as you climbed onto the floor’s reception desk. 

Vox watched as you stretched, arms high over your head, pulling the hem of your top to caress the underside of your breasts. Looking around the boardroom, Vox found he wasn’t the only one watching the show you were putting on. Valentino watched you with the hunger of a man who had lost what was one of his star toys. 

“Your pussycat looks like she’s feeling pretty needy and isn’t about to be picky,” Val teased, taking a long drag of the cigarette between his fingers. 

“Shut up,” Vox demanded as he stalked out of the room, slamming the glass door with so much force that it cracked, a spiderweb of white racing across the surface. 

A high pitch whine cut through the air as a feline, something thick and hairy, reached out for you. His clawed hand ran up the back of your thigh as you slunk around the desk, legs spread just enough to make it clear you wanted to be filled. 

“Touch her and I’ll shred you,” Vox grabbed the furry wrist, wrenching it back from the smoothe skin of your thigh with such force that bones broke, ripping through flesh. You purred at the display of violence, heat fogged mind hardly seeing the men before you as anything more than men, one more powerful and worthy than the other. 

“I’m sorry,” the man whimpered as he backed away, blood spilling down his forearm and dripping off his elbow in a broken river. “I didn’t know she belonged to you.” 

“She does, now fuck off.” Vox wrapped his large hand around the back of your neck, pulling you from the desk as close to by the scruff as one could. You mewled, rubbing your thighs together at the dominance of the touch, wrapping your arms around the TV demon as soon as your feet hit the ground. 

That same high pitched needy yowl spilled from your throat, demanding as you pressed the length of your body up against him. He knew you would have no peace until you were seen to.

“Please,” you whined, not caring that there were eyes on you as you ran your hands over the tall, lean man. “Please, fuck me.” 

“Right here?” Vox asked as your hand caressed his crotch, finding the evidence that your displays impacted him as well, though he had no way to recieve the scent of you. Your hand gripped and rubbed his cock, bringing it from where it had been semi hard to straining against his pants. 

You were ready to sink to your knees, to take him with your mouth and convince the powerful man to fuck you, mate you, breed you. Tears gathered in your eyes, born of the intensity of your physical need. 

“Turn around,” Vox said, folding you over the desk as soon as you did. The position had you perfectly placed for breeding. The skirt did nothing to cover the thong you wore, glued to your cunt so well by your need that you may as well have been wearing nothing at all. 

He could see the outline of every fold. Slick smeared on your thighs, shiny and wet. Even the underside of your tail, whipping and fanning the scent of your heat, was damp with it. 

He would fuck you right there, in the lobby and make it damn clear to anyone that watched that you belonged to him. Claws ran up your back, leaving red marks as he ripped through the fabric of your top. It wasn’t like it was doing much to cover your breasts, anyway. 

Your ears flicked back, honing in on the sound of his belt unfastening, then the zipper running down. Clawed fingers ran up and down your covered cunt before peeling your soaked panties down, slick clinging to the fabric, spreading in strings he pulled it away. 

There was no time spent prepping you. He knew you would be tight, opening clenched and tense, waiting for someone to bully their way into you. It was what your body was craving, and he was going to make a show of giving it to you.

“There are people watching,” Vox said, voice loud enough to carry. “What do you want?”

“Fuck me,” you backed up, wiggling your exposed cunt at him. “Breed me.” 

Vox thrust into you with one strong, smoothe motion. His cock spread up open, girth forcing your walls to part for him as he sank deeper and deeper into your burning heat. You gasped, body tensing and then relaxing as you finally had the feeling you had been chasing all day. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered, fingers clawing at the reception desk as he pushed deeper and deeper. 

A large hand wrapped around your neck, pinning you in place as he bottomed out. “Who do you belong to?” Vox asked, voice slowly sinking into your ears through the fog. 

“You,” you whined, ready to beg him to move. 

“What’s my name?” He asked, hips thrusting harshly into you with each word. “Tell these folks who gets to fuck you through your heats.” 

“You,” you whined, needing him to fuck you in earnest and not the teasingly slow way he would pull out of your body, only to then push in harshly with the words. “You do.”

“My name, pussycat.” 

“Vox,” you gasped as his fingers wrapped tighter around your neck. 

Electric current ran over your skin, dancing in a sizzling blue arc that singed away hair at the nape of your neck. The blue strands of lightning curled around eachother, weaving together. Each new strand of electricity banded with the last, creating something real and lasting around your neck. 

There was a flash of light, bright and hot, and then Vox’s hand left you, leaving a leather strap wrapped around your neck. On the front, a D ring held a metal tag. It scraped and clanked against the surface of the desk as Vox fucked into faster. 

Static ran over your skin, reminding you of what and who Vox was. It was a powerful promise. You had no choice but to take what he was giving you. The threat was unneeded. Vox knew you stood no chance in the face of the simple biology that ruled you. 

You wouldn’t be able to think clearly until someone’s seed was deep in your cunt. Vox would ensure that it was his seed. Always his. Every single heat. 

Electric blue chains formed, wrapping around his wrist and hooking around the blue collar. A sharp moan slipped from between your lips as he pulled you up by it. 

Each sharp thrust pushed you forward, throat straining against the collar. Your breasts bounced with them, nipples dancing for everyone that looked on. 

“Please,” you choked out the words, drool running from the corner of your lips, “breed me.” 

Static ran over your skin, little sparks of blue light jumping between hairs, arching over nipples. It ran down, down your abdomen. Gooseflesh broke out across your body as the static concentrated between your legs, zapping between your spread folds in painful shocks. 

“Who do you belong to?” Vox asked, fuckin into you harder and harder, chasing his on release as static electricity jumped around your folds, zapping your thighs and tingling over your clit. 

“Y-you,” you whined out, cunt clenching painfully around Vox’s cock. 

“My name, Kitty.” Vox jerked on the collar, static tingling, zapping, lighting nerves on fire. You were so close, so very close to coming undone as you struggled to make sense of the voice through the fog. “Or you don’t get to cum. You want to cum, don’t you?” 

“Yes,” tears ran freely down your face. “Please. I want to.” 

“If you want to cum on my cock, tell me who owns you,” Vox growled in your ear. “Tell me and I’ll give you everything you need.” 

You moaned, walls fluttering as your brain struggled to process. Each thrust of his cock through your sopping walls stole your thoughts. Strings of slick swung, hanging off the base of his shaft. You had soaked the front of his pants. 

“Vox,” you finally breathed out his name, plucking it from the shifting sea of fog. 

“Say it louder,” Vox ordered. “For everyone to hear.” 

“Vox,” you did as he said, his name quickly becoming a chant as he shoved you over the edge. The coil inside you snapped. Harsh, violent waves of pleasure slammed through your body as you screamed his name. 

He pounded into you, shoving you harshly down on the desk. Pain flared as your forehead struck the hard surface. Cold stone pressed into your naked chest as Vox chased his release, thrusts and static, keeping you in a perpetual state of orgasm until he exploded within you. 

Hot seed burned as he shot into your quivering hole, painting your cervix with the one thing that would bring your heat to a quick end and buy you clarity. Each pump of his cock gave you more of his seed and, with it, pushed the fog away.

When Vox was done, he pulled out from your warmth and tucked his cock away. He took a moment to admire how your knees trembled. Heavy breaths racked through your body as you lay with your micro skirt pushed over your ass and otherwise naked. 

Dark blue hands grabbed your ass, spreading you open. Vox indulged in watching a thick glob of his cum run from your abused opening. Only when he was satisfied with the view did he slap your ass one last time before returning to his meeting.

Join us at VoxTek for a Vox themed Hazbin Discord where we talk Vox, Hazbin, writing, reading, art and who knows what else. You may even catch some exclusive sneak peeks at upcoming fics from some of your favorite writers including the first page of the next chapter of MisD a day early!!

[dano-or-not]

I was thinking about how fading into obscurity by the passage of time can be kind of a scary thought. Like if you don't leave enough of an impact or invent something or become famous you'll be forgotten after death. But I think Mob Psycho 100 has a really good stance on this, which is your connections with others being a legacy of its own.

Before Reigen went solo for a while, he talked the Claw 7th Division into rejoining society. And any change like that sparks a domino effect; the way they live their lives is different, which positively effects how they interact with others, which positively effects those other people, etc etc. It's a spiderweb of change that directly stems from Reigen.

But even on a smaller scale, Mob joined the Body Improvement Club and eventually become its president allowing other kids to join the club and improve their own lives.

And even even smaller, Tome expressed interest in her friends' interests. One of them wrote jokes; maybe that was the support she needed to become a comedian. Another drew manga, and maybe now that she knows people care she'll get famous with it.

Everyone has a legacy because everyone in some way changes the trajectory of someone's life one way or another, and that thus changes hundreds of other lives. Even if your name isn't there, you don't just disappear. You're too intricately woven into the world that removing you would cause so much to collapse.