#v: golden spider

[goldenbeastkeeper]

@cutexasxabutton

Valor had been ordered to get rid of Spiderman.

That was about all he was sent out of the facility for nowadays: silencing those who were getting in the way of, or coming too close to, the organization and their more secretive projects. He was the most skilled at this point, having gained the highly coveted title of the Golden Spider, so reconnaissance missions were left to less experienced spiders.

This one, however, was different. He'd never faced a foe with powers before, much less ones so similar to his own. It was going to be a challenge, but also . . . interesting.

These were his thoughts as he made his way through the city, jumping from building to building, staying in the shadows. He knew his best chance would come when the superhero was already exhausted, which meant immediately following a fight with some other villain. Long enough time for him to drop his guard, but not long enough for him to disappear.

It meant he would have to wait.

He was very good at waiting.

Tonight was Valor's chance, and he took it. After donning his mask and armor and cape and shifting into spider form, he perched on a wall near the fight, hidden beneath a ledge, watching to see in what direction Spiderman would flee once it was over. Following after him silently.

The fight would be over quickly so long as he could get a bite in. A paralyzed Spiderman wouldn't be able to fight back, after all. So he followed, closer, getting a good angle . . .

And he lunged.

[goldenbeastkeeper]

Valor had turned back to the woman the moment people's heads turned, ready to bite, but he pulled back with an involuntary hiss the moment he saw this kid do the exact opposite of everyone else. He cut it off with his mouth snapping shut the moment it started, but a brief flash of his fangs had still been visible.

Mentally swearing, he turned his gaze back to the other side of the station, attempting to salvage his cover just in case this person didn't actually notice, though his focus was still on him, out of the corner of his eye.

This was not going according to plan.

For a medic in a stressful situation, he did feel relaxed enough to throw shade at a kid on the phone. Akira's gut twists in a way he normally feels when he's in the Metaverse, of witnessing something he likely shouldn't be and being clued in on...something. In this case, he's not exactly sure what.

Wait, hold on. Did the guy just say something to the victim--?

No, focus. Something fishy is going on, and Akira will be damned if he lets this person suffer without doing something. So as several people's attention are caught in the diversion, his own instincts (this is a dangerous situation, he needs as much cover as possible) kick in as he drops to his knees beside both the victim and the so-called medic, trying to find anything out of the ordinary.

"Hey, don't worry. There's an ambulance on the way. You can hang on that long, right?"

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Jamil Viper: A Web, Tangled

Aaand here we go with the Relaxing in Room line of birthday cards :v d ehebkwjw It’s so funny that they chuck pillows to attack??? (By the way, congrats to this Jamil card overloading and crashing the JP server 😂)

For this series of birthday ficlets, I’ll focus on writing each birthday boy preparing to walk to school with the reader (since the duo partner barely appears in the vignettes). Can be read platonically or romantically, whatever you prefer~

Rise and Shine!

You lingered by the doorway, your eyes glued on Jamil.

He was preoccupied with glimpsing himself in a mirror set on a table. Before him were various accessories from a jeweled box. (Judging from the gaudiness of the massive rubies on it, it must have been a gift from Kalim.)

Loose tresses the color of dark chocolate tumbled down his back. When Jamil ran a brush through them, the sun caught and his hair tempered, turning lustrous.

You’d seen him massage his scalp with oil-slicked hands before—and again, he diid it, followed by some sort of a cream. The routine left his head moisturized smelling faintly of jasmine. Jamil never compromised when it came to hair care.

You often had to remind yourself that he was not a princess, entrancing as he was. The sway of his hair, the snap of his steps. Each movement, close to a part in a mysterious dance.

Jamil produced his magical pen. The magestone laid in it was as clear as a cloudless day, and the color of blood that had been left out for a little too long.

Now came the spectacle, the very highlight of your entire morning.

Jamil raised the pen as if he was a conductor waving his baton. A hush fell over an imaginary audience, a collective of breaths held in anticipation. This is it, this is it.

He flicked his wrist, and the magic flowed.

A trail of scarlet light emanated whenever Jamil drew his wand. The accessories laid out on his desk floated up, compelled, in a neat line. A band with a feather dangling from it, narrow golden bangles, flat beads that clinked like coins.

His dark locks lifted, dividing themselves into even sections, then into even smaller ones. They carefully twisted over and under each other, weaving into tight braids. Accessories slid on, effortlessly fitting themselves at his direction.

His intricate hairstyle assembled quickly, as if arranging the pieces of a familiar puzzle.

The red sparkles faded into a fine shimmer and then into nothing at all. As the last traces of magic settled, you bursted into applause.

“Bravo, bravo! Great show as always,” you said appreciatively.

“… That wasn’t a performance,” Jamil corrected as he set his magical pen down.

“It might as well be! It takes some serious skill to pull that off every morning.” You gestured to him. “And so fast!“

“Anyone could accomplish it with enough time and practice.” His words choice was humble, but there was a hint of a smirk in his tone.

A rare moment of triumph for him.

“Not just anyone. I think you’ve got a natural talent for this kind of thing,” you grinned broadly, “like a spider!”

Jamil’s neutral expression splintered, leaving jagged edges exposed. His left eyes twitched, pupils pinpricks.

“Excuse me? In what way do I remind you of a vile bug?”

“Hey, don’t knock spiders! You guys have similar skills. The braids, the webs. You make’m well, all nice and strong. No strands out of place.”

“That doesn’t reassure me,” he groused, a hand on his hip. “I’d prefer if you didn’t compare me to them. It feels wrong.”

Jamil shivered. Not from the cold, but with repulsion.

You gave a laugh—soft against the rising morning sun. “Really? But you’re so alike in other ways too.”

His eyes narrowed into suspicious slivers. Mildly offended, perhaps.

“Elaborate,” he commanded.

“They’re hard working and important but under-appreciated,” you pointed out. “Without spiders, there would actually be a lot more bugs around. We should be more grateful to have spiders’ webs.”

There was a pause, deliberate. Then a gentle prompt.

“… Remind you of anyone?”

Jamil scoffed. It was as loud as a thunderclap in his suddenly cavernous bedroom.

“Maybe.”

Two syllables, clipped. An acknowledgment.

“Jamil-senpai…?”

He hurriedly looked away, staring at the wall for likely longer than what was deemed appropriate. Any more, whether in length or in intensity, and he might have burned a hole in it. His face, hotter than the Scalding Sands.

Your brows shot up. “… Ah. Could it be that you’re feeling embarrassed?”

“What? No, don’t be ridiculous. Something like this couldn’t possibly ruffle me.”

You craned your body, attempting to meet his gaze. But he wrenched away, denying that to you. “Then why aren’t you looking at me when you say that?”

“I need to get ready for class,” he replied dismissively. “So close the door and wait outside while I change out of my pajamas.”

“Now you’re just changing the subject!”

“Well, we’ll both be running late if we continue to dawdle,” Jamil warned—a tactful evasive maneuver.

His hands found their way onto your arms, steering you into the hallway. You turned back, mouth opening to protest, but Jamil had already sealed himself off.

Banging and calling out to him was no good. Kicking resulted in you gripping onto your poor foot and whimpering. You were left in a sorry state, back to the door as you rested on the floor.

On the other side, Jamil was surely having a little laugh. Cheeks still burning from the praise showered upon him, basking in the afterglow of it.

You sighed.

A spider makes its web to deceive flies into getting stuck in it. Jamil-senpai can be just as tricky.

[imababblekat]

TmnT Boy's Reaction To April's Roomie Dressing Nice; Hc's

Anon request, "Hey so I have a quick request- but first ima say that I love your writing style and your spider-person/tmnt AU! It’s so fun to read your work and I say it again, I love it! Anyway tho, can I pls request on how the turtles react to our sleepy roommate, actually looking their best. Such as in a nice outfit and they freshened up. Please don’t feel like you have to write this. And you can skip it if you want. But ya, amazing work! ✨✨✨"

A/N: Aw thank you! sorry i've been dead lately, hopefully i'll be able to get to it tho ヽ(✿ﾟ▽ﾟ)ノ

◍ Previous/Mentioned Post◍

◌ (c,c) = chosen color ◌

~xXx~

Michelangelo:

100% whistles when he comes to pick you and April up for a special NYPD ceremony and gets a look at your nightly outfit

It’s not even anything super sexy; a (c,c) long sleeved, v neck jumper with a simple floral design down one of the open pent legs accompanied with a pair of (c,c) block heals and simple but stylish jewelry

The outfit and your styled up looks are just so different from what Mikey is used to seeing you in, which is usually either comfy sweats or casual clothing depending on the location

He lets you know how stunning you look and doesn’t miss the way you shyly try to hide your blush at his compliments, which only spurs him on some more

At one point in the night he makes a slightly flirtatious comment about how he’s not surprised you pulled off such a look, because he thinks you’re gorgeous in anything, and is promptly met with your very flustered response of shoving your matching orange purse in his face (he regrets nothing!)

Donatello:

This poor turt feels his stomach fluttering when lays eyes upon your outfit for the nights celebration

Accentuating your appearance is a soft (c,c) dress with a sewn on silk cape that covers your upper arms, frilly tights cover your legs and adorable (c,c) flats support your feet, and to top it all off is a simple but very cute pastel purple bow clipped neatly to your hair to pull it all together

Donnie nearly chokes up on his words trying to think of the right thing to say, as he’s so used to seeing you wearing anything else but this type of style

Eventually he settles for just offering you his arm to walk with him into the rented convention center the NYPD is hosting in, to which you appreciatingly take

You’re just so pretty and to be frank the purple bow is definitely throwing him off in the best of ways

Of course, Donnie being too smart for his own good, has a sneaking suspicion the accessory was a purposeful choice based on your little smirk and glinting gaze

Raphael:

All the impatience Raphael felt waiting for you and April to finish getting ready dissipates like water in the Sahara when his golden eyes lay witness to your get up

Enveloping you is a beautiful (c,c) asymmetrical cloak sleeved top that cascades diagonally down your form and to match are a pair of equally flowing wide leg trousers and (c,c) coned heels

The accessory picked to match is a very pretty necklace with a glimmering ruby, a detail that does not escape Raphael’s notice

Speaking of notice, it does not escape you the slightly awkward silence you and April are greeted with from the burly ninja

Raph is quick to fix himself when April ask if he’s okay, hoping no one notices the deep blush upon his cheeks, and he jokingly pretends to not recognize you, saying he’s just focused on trying to see where you’re at

You of course roll your eyes at his antics and smack his arm, Raphael chuckling at your slight feistiness he adores, and commits your un-characteristic appearance to the catalog of memories he has of you

Leonardo:

Much like Raphael, Leonardo is left speechless when the balcony window to your and April’s apartment opens to reveal your chosen attire for the NYPD ceremony

A (c,c) suit blazer tops a neatly ironed dress shirt that’s tucked into matching (c,c) slacks held up by a fastened belt and to match are a pair of (c,c) oxfords to offer your feet comfort as well as added fanciness

The blue tie around your collared shirt is what catches Leo’s eyes, a grin spreading across his face as he steps inside and makes a comment about how the outfit suits you

Ignoring his punny compliment you simply say thanks before adding that you just wish you could get the tie to not be crooked and if he would be okay lending a hand

Leonardo has no issue helping especially when it comes to you and as he closes the gap between you to adjust said troublesome tie, it takes all of his willpower to not get completely enraptured by the deepening blush upon your soft cheeks, that of which always seems to make him equally flush

~xXx~

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

This Isn't Over

Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader (platonic?), Reader POV

Prompt: "You sold my car for magic beans?"/"Hold on, this guy was legit. He had a creepy cloak and everything."

Requested by: @waynes-multiverse

Tropes: Established friendship

Summary:  When Dean plays a prank on you, your only option is to retaliate, but maybe you took it too far. (This can be read as platonic or as a friends with benefits situation- whichever you want it to be 😊)

Word Count: 2.2K

Warnings: Some cursing, Ridiculous Pranks, Friendship, Prank Gone Too Far? Reader and Dean being menaces to one another? Fluff? Reader is described as having hair long enough to put up in a bun.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

Main Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

A/N: Second fic for my prompt celebration! This one was requested the lovely @waynes-multiverse ENJOY!

The beans in your pocket jingled merrily as you sat on the bench in the warm sunlight, soaking up the beams like a happy cat on a stoop while the small town of Belleville woke up.

There was a kiss of fall on the wind that played with the hair at the nape of your neck, winding through the strands and pulling them out of the messy bun at the back of your head. 

But it was a good day. 

You’d met Dean here yesterday, your paths crossing as they always did when the two of you were out looking for jobs and it was a happy coincidence. Your friend looked a little more worn around the eyes than he usually did, a few gray strands in his golden brown hair, but he had the same smile that crinkled all the lines on his face and made you feel special. 

Dean didn’t smile like that at everyone, you supposed after ten years of friendship you’d earned that. The two of you had been through quite a bit together and you guessed that there was more than enough to come. 

You smiled to yourself, leaning against the wooden back of the bench with a content sigh.

The leaves on the trees hanging over your head and lining the streets were just starting to brown, slipping into yellows, reds, and happy oranges to herald the changing of the seasons.

Dean had told you to sit in Baby and wait for him before he strode down the street to the newsstand on the corner to pick up a fresh copy of the newspaper to see if there was anything weird happening in this little town.

In your experience places like coffee shops, grocery stores, and diners were usually breeding grounds for the best gossip, where people would congregate and talk in hushed whispers about the happenings in town. 

But not here. There was nothing but smiles and happy chatter that caught on the wind from the cafe just within ear shot that also brought the warm smells of cinnamon and coffee with it. 

The best thing Dean and you had discovered here was the apple pie at the diner he’d taken you to this morning. The same diner where he’d stolen the last bite of flaky goodness from your plate and shoved it into the black hole he called a mouth and earned a slap on the shoulder by you.

Your lips curl slightly on the ends mischievously thinking that Dean had what was coming to him. 

The pie wasn’t the only reason why you’d decided to play a harmless prank on your friend. 

This morning when you’d taken too long in the bathroom, Dean had shoved a giant plastic spider under the door to smoke you out. It had led to an unfortunate incident with you racing out of the bathroom screaming for him to kill it, clad only in a towel while Dean filmed you on his phone and laughed until he had tears in his eyes. 

Your revenge would be swift and merciless.

As soon as he had rounded the corner you’d slid across the worn leather front seat, put Baby in reverse, pulled out of the parking spot and backed her into the adjacent alley, just out of view. You’d then crossed the street to the small grocery store and asked the shop owner if you could borrow five loose dried beans. He’d obliged you with an odd look on his face, but you didn’t care. 

You’d never cared that people thought you were weird, you hunted creatures that no one believed, weird was every day of your life. Not to mention you were sure that you'd go stir crazy if you were stuck anywhere "normal."

“Hey sweetheart.” Dean calls walking towards you, a fresh newspaper crinkling in his hand and a coffee carrier with two mugs sitting snugly inside. His smile drops as he surveys the empty street. “Where’s Baby? Did you take her to a car wash?”

“Dean, the most amazing thing happened!” You bounced from the bench, a wide smile on your face. “I was sitting here minding my business and this guy showed up-“

“He carjacked you?!” Dean shouts, eyes widening. His body tenses and you watch him begin to look up and down the street frantically for some glimpse of Baby.

It was like your best friend to jump to the worst conclusion, and given what the two of you did for a living it was a valid assumption. 

“No, let me finish!” You wave a hand with a laugh. “He complimented the car, asked me what year she was, what engine she had under the hood- etc. Finally, he told me that he wanted to buy her.”

“This better not be where I think it’s going.” Dean’s eyes narrow, suspicion swimming in the familiar green hue. 

Over the years as the two of you aged, Dean’s eyes never did. They were still the same shade of green like the ferns that lived on a well-watered forest floor, the color of a pine tree that unfurled it’s leaves in the warm summer months and reached to the sky, and they were lecked with gold that caught in the afternoon sun when it hung directly overhead. 

You continue hiding your amusement at his reaction with much difficulty, trying to channel the laugh bubbling up into false excitement. 

He really had this coming.

“So I told him. This car is worth more than money and he goes, ‘oh it’s sentimental?’ and I said yes, and I thought he was going to leave, But then he says ‘well I don’t have cash but what I do have are-’“ You reach into your jacket pocket, it’s really Dean’s, but he’d put it around your shoulders at the diner when a blast of air-conditioning made you shiver. “BAM!” 

You hold out your palm and show Dean the five dried beans from your pocket, pausing for effect.

Dean’s gaze drops to your hand, not quite comprehending what you were trying to say. “What the hell are those?" 

“Magic beans!” This time you wiggle your fingers mysteriously, allowing the smile you were trying to hold back stretch over your face.

Dean’s eye begins to twitch. “Please tell me that you stole them from him and you took Baby to a carwash.”

As if Dean would let anyone other than himself wash his car.

“Nope. I told him that he had a deal.” You smile wider. 

Your friend looks like he’s about to faint and spontaneously combust at the same time when he realizes exactly what you said. His expression freezes somewhere between horror and realization, looking from your open palm to the empty street as if to confirm what you’ve already admitted aloud.

 “You sold my car for magic beans?” Dean shouts so loud that you’re sure somewhere in the midwest a murder of crows all rose from the earth in an angry swarm. You can imagine them, black plumage running together into the sky, ink over paper, oil on water. 

The people walking by stop and look at the two of you.

“Hold on, this guy was legit. He had a creepy cloak and everything!” You argue, again fighting a smile. “I’m sure that-”

“That doesn’t matter if he had an eyepatch and a peg-leg! You sold Baby! You sold my car! How would you like it if I took your first child?” The coffee in the carrier sloshes with Dean’s gestures so much that he thinks better of it and puts down the carrier on the bench you vacated to tell him the “good news.”

“Calm down Rumplestilskin! These are magic beans!” You roll your eyes, feigning annoyance. 

It wasn’t so hard to fake it given that you were still angry from the spider prank this morning. 

“You keep saying that, but I don’t think you understand what it means!”

“It means that they are worth a million times what Baby was! I could get you a hundred Impalas with these bad boys! And I’ll demonstrate!” You hold them up triumphantly before hurling them to the warm soil underneath the tree to your left. 

You wait a beat, pretending to be interested in the reddish brown kidney beans that turn a burnished orange in the light of the sun. 

A car drives by, the clouds continue to float above your head, the wind picks up to sift through your hair, but nothing happens to the beans

Predictably.

“Huh.” You muse, biting your lip to keep yourself from giggling. “Maybe they’re slow acting?” 

“Or you sold my car for a bag full of shit!” Dean runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands so hard you think he'll pull them out.

“Maybe I’m using them wrong? They didn’t come with instructions.” You say, pating your pockets as if looking for something and continuing to ignore Dean. "Maybe we need to sing or something. Quick, pick a song!"

Your chest was burning from keeping the laugh at bay, jaw aching from keeping the smile that wished to break through. 

I have to be strong. Just for a few more seconds. This will be worth it. 

Honestly, it already was. 

You begin to hum the beginning of ACDC's Thunderstruck, pinching your lips together as you do and avoid Dean's murderous gaze.

“Oh for the love of- CAS!” Dean’s eye is still twitching when he roars the angel’s name, not looking away from you as he does.

“What?” Cas says, appearing behind Dean with his usual frown, eyebrows furrowed together. His trenchcoat is pristine, billowing slightly in the breeze that picks up at his appearance.

“Take me to my car.” Dean demands to the angel, who looks at him like he’s crazy. 

“That’s why you called me here?” Cas raises an eyebrow.

“Yes! Take me to my car CAS!” Dean shouts even louder.

Some of the people at the coffee shop two doors down lean back in their chairs, staring in your direction, curious about what's going on.

“He’s not a lojack system.” You clear your throat to hide the giggle. 

Oh this is so much better than when I changed out his shampoo with blue hair dye.

“I don’t want to hear it from you.” Dean points an accusatory finger in your direction. 

“I don’t know where you car is Dean.” Cas replies.

Dean’s eye continues to twitch, until finally he lets out a high pitched. “Son of a bitch!"

Dean takes off in a dead run down the sidewalk in the direction he came from, shouting "I'm coming Baby! Hold on!" His voice echoes over the buildings that line the street as he almost crashes into an older man who's out walking a small dog in a bright pink sweater.

The laugh finally breaks free from your lips in a strangled cackle as you film Dean running away from you, before sending it to Sam. It was the same thing that Dean had done with his video of you and it was only fair for Sam to give him as much crap as he'd given you when he called to laugh at you after receiving Dean's text.

“You didn’t really sell his car did you?” Cas asks, while you continue to wheeze, gasping for breath on the sidewalk. 

“Nah-" You choke out. "I wouldn’t do that. I know how much he loves her. She’s in the alley.” You gesture with your head back behind you. “Bastard put a plastic spider under the bathroom door this morning. Scared the shit out of me.” 

Cas looks confused. “A plastic spider?”

“Yeah, he knows I hate spiders.” 

“But if you knew it was plastic why were you frightened?”

You shake your head. “I didn’t know it was plastic.”

“Oh.” He still looks confused so you reach over and give him an encouraging squeeze on the shoulder to reassure him. 

You didn’t have many interactions with the angel, but you took it as your job to make sure he understood some things about human life.

So far it didn't appear to be helping.

“It’s alright Cas, you can go back to whatever it was you were doing.”

He nods once and vanishes before you can say anything else. 

You sit back down on the bench laughing to yourself into your coffee mug while Dean comes running back up the street.

“Why the hell are you still sitting here? We have to find her! Who knows what that freak could have done to her!” Dean exclaims, shaking your shoulders.

“How does it feel to be faced with your worst fear?” You smirk while taking a calm sip of your coffee. “Payback is a bitch isn’t it Winchester?"

Dean’s face goes from worried to angry in a heartbeat. “Are you friggin kidding me?! You pretended that you sold my car because of the shower thing?”

“And because you stole the last bite of my pie!” 

“I’ve stolen the last bite before-”

“Then you had it coming.” You take another sip of coffee with a triumphant smile.

“Wow. Just wow.” Dean frowns at you. “I hate you.”

“I know.” You smile wider, patting him on the back. “I hate you too buddy. Now come on let’s go see if there’s anything here to do."

“You do realize this isn’t over right?” Dean says as you begin to walk towards the alley where you hid Baby.

You stop to look over at your friend. “Wait, what?”

“This isn’t over.” Dean repeats.

“I think it is-”

“Nope.” He shakes his head, determination flashing in his eyes. “I’m just getting started.”

You stand there for a moment, taking in the serious expression on your friend’s face. You saw all the hardened edges of his jaw, dusted with scruff that made him look just a little more wild. 

Fine. 

You step closer to him, so close you can smell the shampoo he stole from you this morning, without blinking an eye at his display. “It’s cute that you think you can win.” 

Dean’s smirk grows wider, his eyes crinkling around the edges. “I always win, Sweetheart, one way or another.”

The world continues to spin, the birds above caw and flap their wings, the wind brings the smell of coffee and autumn, but Dean’s eyes remain on yours, unmoving, unwavering.

It didn't scare you.

“Then bring it on, Winchester.” 

A/N: This one was a lot of fun to write! Imagining Dean running down the street screaming "I'm coming Baby" made me cackle 🤣 But thank you so much again @waynes-multiverse for giving me this prompt!

If anyone else would like to ask me for a prompt for my prompt celebration there are still some left!

As always, thank you so much for reading! Reblogs, Likes, and Comments are not required, but are always appreciated! I love hearing what y'all think 🥰 Also, if you'd like to be added to one of my taglists for the characters I write, please let me know!

Taglist:

@roseblue373 @livya99 @mrsjenniferwinchester @zepskies

[exhaslo]

Hi! I love your writing, especially what you wrote throughout Kinktober. I like to request something involving Miguel O’Hara.

So back on Day 30 of your Kinktober where you posted Villain!Miguel, it got me feeling things after reading the whole fic. Then a “What If” scenario came to mind: what if Spider!Fem!Reader was able to win the battle against Villain!Miguel and she would kidnap him this time to gather intel about Alchemax’s shady business practices (because she already knew the villainous Spider-Man is Miguel under the mask). While trying every way for Miguel to open up, but won’t budge unless he pleads a deal.

He’ll open up…if Spider!Fem!Reader has sex with him. Deal is sealed but the heroine warns the villain if he tries anything suspicious, he’ll receive more than pleasure.

- @club-danger-zone

Lissssssten, I read this at 3am when I woke up for work and been thinking about it ALLLLLLLL DAY!!!!!

Summary: Alternative Ending to Kinktober Day 30, Villain!Miguel x Hero!Reader

Original Click Here

Warning: MINORS DNI, Smut, corruption, dirty talk, p in v, restraints, rough sex, overstimulation, manipulation, wannabedom!reader

---------------------------------------------------------------

Everything happened so fast that you were still trying to process what had happened. You were responding to a new threat at Alchemax when it started. A new, strong and dangerous villain had appeared, but to your concerned surprise, it was none other than your psycho coworker, Miguel O'Hara.

Miguel was the son of Alchemax's own CEO, Tyler Stone. The proud and cruel son who shared his father's ideals. You had been Miguel's coworker for years and knew how crazy he could be. Miguel was obsessed with studying the genetic makeup of some of the heroes from the Golden Hero Age. Particularly, Spiderman.

Miguel tested on people without a care. One of his experiments ended up accidently biting you, turning you into the hero Spider-Woman. It was hard, but you had to keep your secret from the madman. Miguel was like a mad scientist. What was worse, was that he finally tested on himself. That new threat you were responding too was none other than him.

"Just treat him like any other villain!" You told yourself.

Honestly, you were not prepared. Despite knowing how Miguel was, you couldn't help but fall for the bad boy troupe. Miguel was just so good looking. If he wasn't so crazy, you'd probably had asked him out. Hell, you always folded whenever he asked you to do something for him.

"Alright. Let's get this started," You finally said as you entered the room where Miguel was.

Miguel raised his head, giving that cold stare he usually had. His eyes were a beautiful red shade compared to normal. You wanted to ask him why he tested on himself. You wanted too, but taking down Alchemax was far more important.

"Tell me everything you know about Alchemax."

Miguel watched you with amusement. He had been trying to get you in his clutches since you first appeared. This was as close as he was going to get. Miguel wanted you as a test subject. Miguel let you beat him so he could get close to you. Licking his lips, Miguel observed you in person. That suit was tight against your skin. If only he could just touch you. If only he could study your blood.

"Miguel, focus." You demanded. Miguel returned his attention to you. That mask that covered the top half of your face, "If you cooperate, I might let you off easy."

"You already know my name," Miguel hummed lowly, leaning back in his seat. The restraints holding him back, "I'm honored."

"We can work this out," You sighed softly, seeing that he was being unreasonable, "I'm sure-"

"I'll answer your questions if you answer mine." Miguel said with a cruel smirk.

You had to be someone he knew. He could sense it. Furrowing his brows, Miguel noticed that his sense of smell had become stronger. This was getting interesting.

"D-Depends on the questions." You told him, biting your lower lip.

Miguel's eyes sparkled. There was one person who would bite their lip whenever they got nervous. Miguel inhaled deeply as he felt excitement run through his veins. It seemed like he was going to get his experiment after all.

"Oh, (Y/N), you've been keeping this secret from me this whole time? I gotta say, I'm a little hurt." Miguel's tone was cruel as he watched you flinch.

"N-Now we're getting off topic. Alchemax has been-"

"(Y/N)," Miguel changed his tone into a sweeter one, knowing how to manipulate you, "Why don't I answer all your questions if you just do me one little thing."

"T-That's not my name, b-but what is it?" You stuttered.

Miguel noticed your scent change into something sweet. His pupils dilated as he felt something in him grow hungry. Yes, this was a good reaction. Miguel was going to play his game.

"I'll tell you everything if you have sex with me." He told you, his words dripping like honey.

"Se-" Oh, you were folding.

Your heart nearly stopped as you tried to come up with a proper response. You had only imagined a moment like this. The amount of nights you masterbated to the thought. Slowly approaching Miguel, you knew that this was a horrible idea. What hero would give in to a villain? What hero would willingly have sex with an enemy?

"F-Fine! But if you try anything, I'll make sure that you'll receive more than just...pleasure," You huffed.

Honestly, you were nervous. What the hell could you do to him if he tried to make a move? Not wanting to think about that, you just played along. You were going to be the dominator in this moment. Miguel was tied up to the chair.

"Would you take your mask off for me?"

"Don't push it."

You fixed your hair, getting on your knees to undo his feet restraints. Despite Miguel being evil, you still wanted him to be comfortable for this. Once you loosen the restraints a little, you proceeded to undo his pants. Your fingers trembled as you stared at his large erection. He had already gotten hard just from asking you!

Miguel watched you in amusement. You smelled so scared, yet so sweet. You slowly stroked his dick as you undid a small, hidden zipper from your suit. Miguel's smirk widen,

"A zipper?" He questioned with a low groan. You pressed his tip, biting your lower lip,

"Y-You try going to the bathroom with this on! I had to make adjustments!" You huffed.

Once you thought you were ready, you sat against Miguel's lap and tried to slid onto his dick. You whimpered, unable to do so. Miguel leaned his head into your neck, inhaling your neck. You gasped lowly as he licked your cheek. You could feel fangs. Miguel never had fangs. You tried to move away, but Miguel nibbled against your suit,

"It's never going to fit unless you let me help, carino (sweetheart)" Miguel groaned lowly. You whimpered as you decided to rub your hips against his dick,

"I-I'm taking control."

"I don't think you can," Miguel's tone turned cruel once more as he grazed his fangs against your suit, "You smell so sweet. All for me."

"Don't flatter yourself," You gasped lowly as you started to get into the pleasure, "T-This is just...for information."

"Sure, (Y/N). My little (Y/N), the super hero. The perfect test subject right in the palm of my hand."

"S-Stop...c-calling me that," You begged.

Every time Miguel said you name, it sent shivers down your spine. Once more, you tried to slid his cock inside you. You whined and cried out as you managed to fit the tip inside your tight pussy. He was too big and you were not prepped enough, but you had to try. If you let him go, who knows what he would do.

"Treat this like another battle, (Y'N). You can handle it. If not, I might have to fight back."

You yelped as Miguel thrusted his hips up ever so slightly. Your walls tighten around his tip, begging him to wait. You were supposed to take control. You had to take care of this. You could only whimper and cry as you finally fit him fully inside you.

"What a perfect fit. Aren't you a good little test subject." Miguel whispered in your ear as you held onto him, "Now start moving. You owe me for keeping this secret, (Y/N)."

"M-Miguel...I...I said..." You whined as you started to bounce against his cock, "A-Ah~ Hah~ I-I'm in...mhm...c-charge."

Each time you bounced against his dick, you felt your body jolt in pleasure. Drool nearly rolled down your mouth as you started to ride him faster. His dick hitting your cervix with each thrust. Fireworks went off in your brain as you felt a hot, tight knot about to explode.

"That's right, (Y/N), you were made just for me." Miguel used his teeth to pull your mask down. Your fucked out expression turned him on more, "This chemistry we share must be explored more!"

"M-Miguel~!" You cried out, shaking as you reached your orgasm. Miguel licked his lips as he kept moving his hips, thrusting inside you,

"I'll tell you everything you want to know, (Y/N), you just have to keep up your end of the deal. You will, won't you? Or do heroes lie?" He said with a devilish smirk.

"Y-Yes! I-I will!"

You moaned softly as you felt Miguel cum inside you. Your vision blurred slightly before you calmed down from your high. Gasping, you immediately fixed you mask and scooted off of his lap. You fixed yourself up and gave him a slight shock from one of your web shooters. Miguel hissed in pain,

"I-I told you I would punish you if you tried something!" You cried out, huffing your cheeks out. Miguel just chuckled,

"I'm a Villain, did you really expect me to play fair?"

You whined softly, but to your surprise, Miguel did share some information with you. He only gave you a little bit and told you that if you wanted more, you had to keep meeting him. You were hesitant at first, but you kept telling yourself what was the harm?

----------

"You've gotten used to this, huh, (Y/N)? Can't do anything without this villain's dick inside you?" Miguel whispered harshly as he pounded your pussy from behind. You held onto the wall, moaning loudly from pleasure,

"T-This is j-just f-for information-" You tried to say. Miguel just roared in laughter as he held your hips higher, slapping himself into you,

"Sure. Just admit that you can't do anything with me. I'm the villain who corrupted you."

"N-No, t-this....this is f-for ah~ w-wait...s'much..." You cried out as Miguel started to pinch your clit, "M-Miguel...I-I said-"

"That I can do what I want as long as I help you arrest my father. I'm doing a good deed here,"

Miguel just watched you break under him. The amount of orgasms he had drawn out of you this past week alone was an accomplishment. The amount of times you kept coming back to him for more 'information' was just delicious. This was a game he wanted you to believe that you were winning.

Giving you another load of his cum, Miguel watched in amusement as your body twitched for more. He pushed his fingers inside you, wanting to keep the cum inside. Miguel wanted to experiment with you more. With a lick of his lips, he leaned towards your ear,

"You know, after I help you arrest my father, you're still going to need information to take down other big bads." You whined, trying to move away from him,

"I-I will be the judge of that. Who's to say I won't have you arrested?" You warned, moving away to fix your zipper. Miguel just laughed in response,

"You would never."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gosh, I can't wait to write the Villain!Miguel series!!!

[skellinore]

"Family Outting"

[If the image shows up as blurry or whatever, just click the image, I hear that fixes it.]

I am finally here to bring you my longest piece to date! I started this baby back on March 3rd. I recovered from art block and many other struggles to get to this point! I am so unbelievably happy! 

[Something important to add: I’ve turned Markus into my OC, so he’s no longer a redesign of Offenderman! Since both of them are very, VERY different in personality, morals, and designs. I am however making another design and AU for Offender in another post! Which is why this post was delayed!]

Now onto the new and improved head-canons! [Going from left to right.]

Markus Sinclair:

The youngest! Yet somehow he is the only one to inhabit their father’s tallness gene. [He is the younger twin to Trender.]

Markus is a proud bisexual and aceflux man!

Markus Sinclair took his face name from his favourite character, from his favourite detective movie: The Twelve Painted Women. [He watched that movie religiously when he was a little boy.]

A hopeless romantic. A firm believer of love at first sight, he plans the most romantic candlelit dinners, and enjoys writing his own love poems. [A perfect golden retriever boyfriend.]

Despite being a prince, Markus has devoted his life to be the best detective he can be to help and protect the innocent. [Bonus: Markus does those cheesy dialogue intro lines, for example: “February 18, 1998, I was sitting down with a cup of coffee, reading the morning newspaper, until something caught my eye.” Basically that. Which I adore for him. His family also enjoys it, except for Trender.]

Markus is a well known writer and poet, under the pen name of "Sonnet V. Sparks” His popular works being: “In My Folly,” “My Broken Bones Will Mend Your Soul,” and “My Poems for Your Heart”

My dearest boy plays the guitar and piano, he enjoys playing tunes to his siblings and father.

Despite him loving his job, it absolutely destroys him. Which is why he’s the only child of Cabadath who doesn’t live in the castle. So that he can drink himself to death alone in peace.  

Slender:

The second oldest [However this is not public knowledge, and everyone views Slender as the oldest twin.] 

Slender is a distinguished gay who prefers to be called an it, but doesn’t mind being identified with male pronouns.

Slender will be the next in line to be king. [He takes his duties very seriously, but his father likes to spoil him, meaning he takes on less duties then it would like to.]

Slender very much adores and admires nature, most of his free time is dedicated to exploring the wilderness and documenting anything new. [Slender has written a well received encyclopedia of new types of plants/trees, animals, rocks/minerals, and insects.]  

Speaking of him liking nature, Slender has been given a blessing from Mother Nature herself, allowing it to be able to talk to animals, insects, and trees.

To be honest, Slender is daddy’s boy at heart. He absolutely adores his father. When he was younger he would sneak into Cabadath’s wardrobe and try on his clothes and pretend to be him.]

Slender has mastered shapeshifting to a tee. [Its favourite things to shapeshift into is a huge white deer, wolf, centipede, spider, and raven.]

Since Slender loves animals so much, my little prince is a vegetarian.

Splendor:

The oldest son! [He hates this, which is why he states to everyone that Slender is the oldest twin.]

Splendor is pansexual and asexual.

Much like Slender, Splendor loves animals! But instead of being a vegetarian, Splendor is a vegan.

Splendor and Slender are identical twins! When they were younger the only thing telling them apart were their tendrils, until Slender started to get its scars. [The only reason why Splendor looks way different from Slender now is because Markus, his baby brother, was ashamed of having a visible mouth, so Splendor used his tiny knowledge of shapeshifting to make it appear that he has a mouth and eyes to help with Markus’ self-esteem. He’s grown to love these features.]

Splendor’s personality differs from who he is around at the time. He’s calm, level-headed, and intelligent around his father, Markus, Trender, and anyone else; but around Slender, Splendor acts silly, carefree, and energetic! 

Dabbles in facepaint/makeup. To make his face stand out, examples: drawing on rainbow freckles, red swirls to mimic cartoon blush, little butterflies, paw prints, etc. [He also puts stickers on his face from time to time.]

A tad bit overprotective of his siblings, especially his twin, Slender.

While all of his other siblings have secure jobs, Splendor is the only one who hasn’t pinned down a job yet, not that he has to, being a prince and all. [He’s been a baker, ringmaster, toy maker, babysitter, nurse, and teacher! Right now he’s a daycare teacher.]

Trender:

The secondest youngest. [Only older than Markus by a whole two minutes.]

Trender is a triple A battery, with them being asexual, aromantic, and agender.

Trender is creatively gifted! Trender has explored many creative hobbies over the years, and has excelled at all of them in a small amount of time. Their favourites being sculpting, beading, photography, calligraphy, and drawing/painting. 

If anything were to happen to Slender, Trender would be next in line to rule over the kingdom and their people.

Trender barely talks at all, they enjoy listening to people a lot more. Trender really enjoys listening to their family members. Although they do enjoy talking to their twin, Markus quite a bit.

Trender’s face name was not something they picked out themselves. Splendor picked it out actually to match both him and his twin. Trender doesn’t mind it, as they couldn’t decide on one for the longest time.

If you managed to see their bare back, you’d see that it was completely covered in scars. [From the time they were kidnapped and used as slave labour for their special and rare type of tendrils.]

Trender runs many successful side businesses! From selling their sculptures, paintings, and their beading works on an online shop. [Trender’s two main jobs is a therapist/psychologist, as once again, they enjoy listening to people and helping them. The second one being a fashion designer/professional tailor, although they despise fast fashion. Trender actually has a brain compared to the other greedy designers. Trender cares to bring affordable and stylish clothes for people who need them.

I wanted to add that any drawings before this that have head-canons are outdated! So please disregard them! I've already most likely deleted most of my old Markus Sinclair art because it is still attached to the tag: Offenderman. I can't wait to post Markus under the tag: Slender/Creepypasta OC! I'll leave the old drawing alone for you to see! [All new drawings/head-canons will be using the: No Humans AU]

Anyways! Thank you to all who waited for this drawing to come out! I hope you'll like it as much as you liked the old one I posted back in 2022! it's crazy to see the improvement! [Here's the old one for you to see!]

[cconfusedkat]

For another few decent weeks, I had been thinking abt Wilt's bishops,, and how I wanted them to look. Soooo over the past week, as well as pmv planning, I came up with a few things for the rest of the four :>ccc

This would be pre-betrayal, way before Wilt killed their siblings rather than,, just injuring them! No good deed! Ouch

Wilt had slowly become a spider everyone learned to fear by instinct. They had more members in their war cult compared to the other four—speeeaaaaking of cults, the only cult that didn't exist in Goat's world is the death cult! Instead, the purple crown of wisdom was given to Thanatos (a.k.a Narinder , puprinder if you will :>c for months i wanted to make a german spitz lol-)

Nowwww obligatory warning image ；

Hi! Hi. We good. Are we good now. Are you still okay with suicide and graphic death details . Let's continue 🎊

Their deaths were erased off the og two images up- but yeah, instead of leaving the four with injuries, they went with the full kill option,,, attempting to prove their worth as a god of war? Which? They SHOULDNT have since being a god AND monarch was already plentiful for them???? But hey i guess thats just how mental illness operates and passes down onto you

Ive yet to draw a proper thing for how thanatos. like. Laid there on his wooden bed with a carved skull. That was when i kept him as a cat but i changed my mind two days ago, and, well, here we are- hes a dog now-

Im about 50 seconds into the pmv so i dont have All the things i want to share from my brain! However without spoiling too much-

Wilt clearly did regret murdering their siblings after a while in Purgatory. This isnt them in Purgatory to clarify, as purgatory is a bright & neon orange and full of clouds,, plus we're missing the chain in the head if thats the case ^v^;;

Thanatos was the last planned one to die. Wilt was angry at how long he hid from them, and thanatos ... thanatos didnt know what else to do , especially considering he had a status to mantain and it was rather foolish of him to continue hiding.

Hours before Wilt would arrive to Thanato's palace, thanatos told his guards about framing wilt for murder. The guards looked at him like a crazed man (which, to be fair, he had a right to be going crazy cuz his siblings werent just dead but the other important gods were dying alongside,, he didnt wanna die under the wrath of the god of war. That'd make him look even more foolish than he already saw himself as)

Wilt busted down Thanato's door in his bedroom. Every other room in the palace of his was empty. They opened the curtains to only find his body laying flat—diagonally—on the wooden bed, his bishop clothes still on with a carved off head. His whole skull was visible and still had some blood left on the sockets and bone.

^ Forgot to mention, Wilt wasn't just freaked out at Thanato's still body on the bed. They freaked out because his "ichor" was red. Gods had black, blue, or golden ichor: mortals had just red blood. Wilt realized Thanatos felt every single second of pain from his own suicide.

Causing a panic response in Wilt as planned, they fell to their knees only crying more ichor,, Thanato's guards captured Wilt. It wasn't likely of them to go down without a fight. Areem, one of Thanto's main guards, knew this about Wilt; he prepared a step further, secretly being all the way on the top of the bed, plunging his sword into Wilt's head to go down through their whole body

UMMM. SO. That was what sent Wilt to Purgatory, can also be be referred to as The Above- Areem was the one to then guard Wilt usually in Purgatory. He gave them a change of robes, just not the ones they Actually wanted (the dark gray-purple robes with the gray-purple shall) WHIIIICH EXPLAINS THIS IMAGE FROM OCTOBER

Currently not too sure on what else to mention about these bishops! I did switch the evil's around, though :o) another little fact about Wilt is that their other four legs were cut off so that's why in Purgatory + Follower form they have two legs rather than their original spider form pre-betrayal.

I do wanna add that their actions are inexcusable so ,, even as a follower in goat's cult they're still like. Pretty rude and blunt. Sometimes it's on purpose, but lesser times its not on purpose. I like to believe they grew desensitized to death over time as well as lacking empathy due to social isolation for three millenia, so that explains their behavior much better rather than excusing it? They are the villain of their own history so- lmao-

The goat genocide happened simultaneously before and after Wilt's death! It took three millenia to eradicate all the goat's left of the warlands, perfect timing for Goat & Ram to die ++ showing up in Wilt's realm (which was another perfect convenience for two siblings to appear, since Thanatos died long ago and his wisdom crown was inactive,, the only crowns Wilt had access to were the crown of famine & the crown of wisdom! (Another thing that explained their changed title after giving goat & ram the crowns of war++wisdom, the god of fear and famine)

ER OK YEAH THAT MIGHT BE ALL I HAVE TO SHARE FOR NOW!! YAYYYYYY I just gotta continue working on the pmv :-3cc

[brodygold]

Twelve Days of Christmas: Day Six

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: six geese-a-laying.

The six men groaned as they stirred awake, their minds clouded and bodies feeling weightless. Each found himself encased in a smooth, glowing, golden egg-shaped pod. The interior was warm and oddly comforting, yet tinged with a metallic hum that resonated through their bones. The pods were suspended in a vast chamber illuminated by radiant beams of gold light that crisscrossed the space like a spider’s web.

For Daniel, the fog in his mind cleared just enough to recall a snippet of memory. It was December, the crisp winter air biting at his face as he and his friends huddled around their table at the diner. Christmas lights twinkled outside the frosted windows, and the smell of cinnamon and pine filled the air. A figure had approached their table—a tall man in a golden soccer jersey, his smile disarmingly bright.

“Want an early Christmas present?” the man had asked, holding up a small golden box. The six friends exchanged curious glances. David had been the first to laugh, joking about it being a pyramid scheme, but their curiosity got the better of them. They each accepted a small golden trinket from the man, its surface warm to the touch. “Trust me,” the man had said, his grin widening, “it’ll change your life.”

Daniel’s head throbbed as the memory faded, replaced by the reality of his current predicament. He pressed his palms against the translucent interior of his pod. A flicker of panic darted across his face as he struggled to make sense of what had happened. The last thing he remembered after the diner was holding the trinket and feeling a sudden wave of dizziness. Now, here he was, encased in this strange cocoon.

“What the… where am I?” he muttered, his voice muffled. He pressed harder against the walls of the pod, the smooth surface cool under his fingertips. Through the golden sheen, he could barely make out the shapes of five other pods, each glowing softly like his own.

“Guys? Are you there?” Daniel called out, his voice trembling. A muffled chorus of confused and frightened responses came from the other pods.

“What is this place?” “I can’t get out!” “Calm down! Let’s think!”

David, a lanky programmer with glasses perpetually sliding down his nose, was in the pod closest to Daniel. He tried to steady his breathing, but the growing sense of dread was impossible to ignore. The chamber around them felt vast, infinite even, the golden beams of light crisscrossing endlessly above. Suddenly, a faint hissing sound caught his attention. He turned to see a golden mist beginning to seep into his pod. It swirled around him, carrying an oddly sweet, metallic scent that filled his lungs.

“What is this stuff?” David choked, pressing himself against the back of the pod to escape the mist. But there was no escape; it was everywhere. The mist wasn’t just filling the pod—it was invading his body, his mind. A wave of warmth began to spread through him, soothing his initial panic. His glasses fogged up as his breathing slowed, his limbs going slack. Somewhere in the fog, a voice whispered.

“You have been chosen for greatness. For the Golden Army.”

The words reverberated in David’s head, erasing his fear and filling him with a strange sense of purpose. He blinked, his glasses slipping from his face as they dissolved into the mist. Shocked, he realized he could see clearly for the first time in years. His vision sharpened, his surroundings coming into focus with an almost supernatural clarity. The voice grew louder, more insistent.

“Shed your past. Embrace your new self.”

David’s body began to tingle, starting at his fingertips. His once-thin, spindly fingers thickened, his nails becoming perfectly trimmed. The transformation traveled up his arms, the bony appendages filling out with firm, sculpted muscle. His shoulders broadened, pushing against the pod walls as they expanded into a powerful V-shape. The golden mist seemed to seep directly into his skin, turning it smooth and glowing with vitality.

His torso convulsed as his ribs and spine realigned. Years of poor posture were corrected in seconds, his chest swelling into a broad, muscular expanse. Abs rippled to the surface, carving themselves into a flawless six-pack. David gasped as his neck thickened, his Adam’s apple becoming more pronounced, his voice deepening with each breath.

The changes continued down his legs. His stick-thin thighs ballooned with muscle, calves becoming rock-solid pillars of strength. Even his feet grew larger, more proportional to his now-athletic frame. A pair of golden cleats materialized on them, glinting in the light.

David’s head tilted back as the mist concentrated around his face. His jawline sharpened, cheeks hollowing slightly to reveal high cheekbones. His nerdy, unkempt hair receded briefly before surging back as a short, stylish cut. The mist reshaped his features into those of a rugged, handsome athlete—a face designed to exude confidence and charm.

As the physical changes completed, David’s mind underwent its own transformation. The golden mist didn’t just enhance his body; it rewrote his identity. His memories of coding marathons and late-night gaming sessions faded, replaced by visions of intense soccer matches and roaring crowds. His love for data and algorithms was replaced with an insatiable passion for the game and an unwavering loyalty to the Golden Army.

The pod opened with a hiss, and David stepped out onto the gleaming golden floor, his movements fluid and powerful. He looked down at himself, admiring the golden soccer jersey that now adorned his muscular frame. A dumb grin spread across his face.

“Whoa, dudes,” David said, his deepened voice brimming with excitement. “I feel, like, totally awesome. My muscles are huge! And, uh… what was I saying? Oh yeah! I’m, like, totally jacked now!”

He flexed his biceps, staring at them in awe. “Man, I used to think about, like, nerd stuff or whatever, but now all I can think about is kickin’ balls into goals and crushin’ it at the gym!”

The other pods began to hum louder, the golden mist swirling more intensely. Daniel, still trapped in his pod, watched in horror as David stepped out, transformed into a towering jock. He banged on the walls of his pod, his heart racing.

“What’s happening to us?” Daniel shouted, his voice cracking with fear.

Inside Daniel’s pod, the mist surged forward, wrapping around him in thick, golden tendrils. He coughed and struggled, pressing himself against the back of the pod. “No! I don’t want this! Please, stop!” But his protests were swallowed by the mist as it invaded his lungs, his body going limp as the warmth spread through him.

The transformation began at his hands, his slender fingers thickening, veins popping as muscle wrapped around his forearms. His arms bulked up, his shoulders widening to a proportion that strained the edges of the pod. His chest heaved as his ribcage expanded, pecs pushing forward into a solid, chiseled form. He could feel his stomach tightening, fat melting away to reveal a defined six-pack.

Daniel’s legs stretched, his thighs swelling with power as his calves reshaped into the muscular foundation of a professional athlete. His scrawny frame was replaced with a body that radiated strength and vitality. His sneakers dissolved into golden cleats, perfectly fitted to his new, larger feet.

The mist enveloped his head, and Daniel whimpered as his features began to shift. His jawline squared, his nose straightened, and his hair shortened into a stylish, sporty cut. His glasses disintegrated, his vision sharpening as though he had never needed them. His skin glowed with health, his face now the epitome of athletic confidence.

Inside his mind, Daniel felt his memories being erased, his identity rewritten. Thoughts of books, strategy games, and his quiet life were replaced by visions of roaring crowds, locker room camaraderie, and the thrill of scoring goals. His protests turned into dumb chuckles as his intellect dulled, his new personality taking over.

“Aw, man, this feels… amazing!” Daniel said, stepping out of his pod. He flexed his arms, laughing. “I’m, like, so huge now! And… uh, what was I worried about? Oh yeah, nothin’! I just wanna crush it on the field, dudes!”

The remaining friends, still in their pods, screamed and banged against the walls as they witnessed Daniel’s transformation. But one by one, the golden mist claimed them too, reshaping their bodies and minds into loyal members of the Golden Army.

When the final pod opened, the six transformed men stood together, their muscular frames glistening under the golden light. They exchanged dumbfounded grins, their minds alight with simple thoughts of victory and camaraderie.

“Bro, this is sick!” Ian exclaimed, flexing his biceps. “I’ve never felt so strong!”

“Yeah, man, like, I can’t wait to crush it on the field,” Chris added, cracking his knuckles.

“Let’s go, bros! We’re gonna dominate!” Tommy said, pumping his fist.

David chimed in, laughing as he patted Ian on the back. “Dude, I don’t even know what I was thinkin’ about before, but now it’s like… all I wanna do is hit the gym and, like, totally smash some goals, ya know?”

“Totally, bro!” Marcus said, slapping his hands together. “Let’s get swole and show everyone what the Golden Army’s made of!”

Above the chamber, in a hidden observation deck, a figure watched the scene unfold. Brody, clad in his own golden jersey, smirked as the transformation process completed.

“Perfect,” he murmured to himself. “They’ll make excellent additions to the team.”

Brody’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. It had been his idea to bring these six here, to reshape them into champions who would bring further glory to the Golden Army. He turned to the console and pressed a button, speaking into a microphone.

“Alright, recruits. Time to hit the gym. Let’s see what those new bodies can do.”

The six jocks erupted in cheers, their simple minds thrilled at the prospect of pushing their limits.

“Hell yeah, let’s get swole, bros!”

Thanks to my good friend @hypnozys for help with some of the photos!

If you're interested in joining the Golden Army for real, contact me, @goldenherc9 or @polo-drone-001

[dc-tournaments]

Okay, due to controversies over past image choices, I am going to be largely crowd sourcing images for the Best Costume tournament. If you submitted a character and want a highly specific image to be used, please attach it in the reblogs of this post or send it to me in an ask. Thank you!

The following costumes (in order of submission) will be in the tournament:

Superman

UTRH Jason Todd

OG Barry Allen

Fear State Scarecrow

80's Starfire

Guy Gardner

B:TAC Riddler

V from V for Vendetta

Discowing

80's Headband Supergirl

Dr. Manhattan

80's Jericho

OG Jean-Paul Valley

Kole

Bombshells Wonder Woman

Authority Superman

Morrison's Red Hood

Hotpants Supergirl

Golden Age Captain Marvel

Billy Batson

Bombshells Mary Marvel

Kingdom Come Captain Marvel

90's Superboy

Spiky Matrix Supergirl

Absolute Wonder Woman

OG Martian Manhunter

Death

Hecate

Queen Pythia

OG Cass Cain

Rebirth Jaime Reyes

Spider woman Gwen Stacy

BOP Cass Cain

Apollo

Penguin

Red Nightwing

Delirium

Parallax Hal Jordan

1998 Troia

Jo Mullein

Unternet Tim Drake

Gold Armor Arsenal

The Creeper

Red Robin

The Wind

Circuit Breaker

Kyle Rayner

Rebirth Robin Tim Drake

1987 Shiva

All American Ma Hunkel

Detective Chimp

Man of Tomorrow Superboy

Any Dr. Fate costume

2004 Riddler

Mr. Sarcastic

Helena Bertinelli

Greta Hayes

Kiran Singh

Ruin

Ray Terrell

Live Action Catwoman

Frostbite

Mother Panic

Eddie Bloomberg

[goldenbeastkeeper]

@cutexasxabutton

The Golden Spider, as Peter eventually learned the spider trying to kill him was called, only attacked him in specific moments. Usually that was immediately after dealing with some other villain, within a minute or two of the fight's conclusion, if not even shorter a time. Before he had the chance to take his mask off, certainly.

Last time, he'd taken it a step further and attacked during the fight, using the distraction of the other attacker to aid him in his attempt. Two on one was more of an advantage, after all, so long as Valor didn't annoy the other villain enough to also be attacked by them.

This time, though . . . This time was different.

He showed up after a fight again, sure, but it was with a raspy "Spiderman," from the shadows, and the Golden Spider never talked before launching himself at the superhero. He always preferred surprise attacks. His posture wasn't threatening, either, rather shrunk back, expecting to flee should he get a negative reaction.

Actually, he wasn't even wearing his armor. No armor, no cape, no mask. Just a fluffy spider person. A fluffy spider person that was injured, hemolymph dripping from cracks in his chitin and through his fluff.

(Flicker was held behind him, being blocked from view until he could ascertain that they wouldn't be harmed by this superhero he'd only ever fought before.)

[xylianasblog]

Slumber party

Pairings: Agedup Loak x FemHuman Reader x Agedup Spider

Summary: Movies night has never been quite like this, but who were you to complain?

Warnings: MDNI, under a blanket, handjob, p in v, in public, threesome, blowjob.

꒦꒷❀꒷꒦ ❀✿❀꒦꒷❀꒷꒦DMNI ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦❀✿❀ ꒦꒷❀꒷꒦

Movie nights with spider and load were sacred, something done since you all were kids and now here you are in your early twenties still hanging out and having fun like normal.

Yet this wasn’t such a normal thing, not even normal in the slightest for you and your two best friends. This was pushing so many boundaries, so many things could go wrong but why did they feel so right? Why did it feel incredibly good to have spider filling your sopping wet cunt as your hand was wrapped tightly around Loaks large cock under the blanket.

Your legs were spread wide enough giving spider enough room to rock ever so slightly in this position, his hands holding onto your hips tightly as he rocked your body in time with his slow hopefully barely noticeable thrust. Your hand squeezing Lo’aks cock tightly as you pumped it up and down in time with spider's small thrust. Each boy battling to hold back their small little groans just as you fought back your whines and whimpers.

The movie wasn’t loud enough to drown the three of you out if noises were to slip it was better safe than sorry, especially if someone was to catch you three doing this sort of thing.

For a moment you lost yourself, letting the pleasure consume you. Your only focus was the way both men’s cocks seemed to throb in synchronicity. The urge to rock your hips wishing to ride spider like your mind had been begging, the way you craved to take Loak into your mouth and such him dry just as your pussy milked every last drop for spider.

Such a needy craving to have to be filled by both of these gorgeous men as they used and abused your body to your hearts content.

“Oh… fuck y/n. Stop you’ll make me cum.” Came Spiders hoarse, grumble of a whisper. Just as Lo’ak bucked his hips up into your hand, your eyes immediately found his. Golden irises staring back into your own orbs, the need to finish ever so present in his gaze.

Every urge in you was screaming to say fuck it and let the feral desires take over, yet you held back for a moment. You whimpered as you adjusted yourself on spider making it easier to bounce up and down along his thick cock. Your soft moans filling both men’s ears, Loaks eyebrows furrowed as he reached over to tangle his fingers into your hair.

Pulling your head down until your lips touched the tip of his cock. “I need your mouth.” He grumbled lowly. “Wanna, feel you wrapped around me too.” Without an ounce of hesitation, you took him into your mouth as far as he could reach. The sound of his growl almost drowned out the movie, spider cast a glance in his direction. “Shut up bro you’ll get us caught.”

You ignored them both as you focused on being used, it was getting harder and harder to stay quiet and your orgasm was approaching quickly, yet you knew you’d definitely be having more movie nights like this.

Taglist: @pandoraslxna @neteyamsoare @hiddensnow1 @criticallybella @sunfyresrider @neteyamsyawntu @tiredmamaissy @headsincloud9 @etherialblackrose @strongheartneteyam @blue-slxt @justcaptainnoodles @neteyamyawne @erenjaegerwifee @oakbuggy @hotdsworld @plooto @itchaboi-itchyboy @luvv4j4ybe11

[grievous-writes]

𝔹𝕆ℕ𝔻𝔼𝔻 𝔹𝕐 𝕊𝕀ℕ

ℙ𝔸ℝ𝕋 𝕀𝕀𝕀 - 𝔹𝔸𝔻 𝕄𝕆ℝℕ𝕀ℕ𝔾 ... 𝕎𝕆ℝ𝔻 ℂ𝕆𝕌ℕ𝕋 - 𝟛𝟛𝟜𝟚

<- Part Two Next Part ->

What happens to cherubs when they fall? There was already the damning example of God's golden Seraphim, where his fall from grace landed him upon the burning throne of Hell; to rule for all of time. A curse and, weirdly enough, a blessing. But you, a lone cherub sent on a nearly impossible quest? You landed smack dab in the middle of a courtroom in session; complete with a stunned jury and judge with burning eyes. 

Fandoms: HelluvaBoss & HazbinHotelPairing: Female Reader / Fallen Cherub / “Asteria” x SatanGenre: SPICY RomanceRating: Mature +18

Tropes: slow burn, forbidden love, forced proximity, size difference, enemies to lovers, age gap, hurt & comfort, “Who did this to you?”, touch her and 💀

CWs: really possessive behavior, mild yandere, ALL THE SPICE, blood and gore, mentions of death, swearing, hard smut, personally RIP christianity to shreds, mild blood play, toxic people and situations, violence violence VIOLENCE, p in v, power imbalance, light dubcon, CNC (Honestly, just expect so much more down the line cause this story will develop out of control eventually!)

Notes: Reader is female (she/her), multi chapters, LONG posts and very little editing cause I HATE editing. I don’t know how to do TAGS quite yet, but let me know if you want to be notified for each update~

Your stomach gave a low rumble, ached, and your mouth salivated. It took you a long while to understand what your body needed, a sensation you’d not felt in little under 3000 years.

Story continues after the cut ...

During the night Satan had moved your prison into another room, placed you on a wide mantle built over an obsidian fireplace. The large space that was flashy as your hot-air bag of a dragon jailer and you were set as a piece of decor. Your best guess was you were in a living room, but the deep black marble floors and bright red wallpaper elevated it to a weird-pseudo ballroom.

One side of the space seemed to be a dedicated lounge, where a huge round couch sat before an impossibly large TV mounted on a wall. Littered on the ground were a scattering of books, piles of paperwork, and magazines - With “Weekly Workouts for the WICKED” and “Where is Your Center? Meditations for the Newly Grounded” being two opened issues placed on a black coffee table. Beside the TV on the wall were paintings of fire, depictions of ancient deaths, notable punishments you had no name for, and several overly dramatic images of Satan himself. He was either bare chested or holding flaming swords while covered in blood.

There was also a large painting that stood alone from the rest, but it was covered by a black curtain. And by the obvious dust and spider web decorating the fabric, whatever was covered had not been looked at for sometime. 

Across from the living room was a dining hall, but lacked a lot of places to sit and eat. There was still a table set to one side, and while still nice quality, it was small and only had two chairs. The table and its decor looked untouched, clean but left to sit. You guessed that Satan didn’t eat there. Instead, there were even more workout machines and racks of various dumbbells and equipment. Now those did seem to be in constant use, scuffed with claw marks and weld repairs on almost everything. And a well worn  punching bag hung where a chandelier would be.

There was also a smattering of inspirational posters and some depicting nearly nude women. You did your best to not look at those. You weren’t prude, but it had been sometime since you had seen someone that pretty. Confident in her own skin. The model had curves in places you didn’t, even now with your new form. You turned from the poster and sighed; noting that the whole room smelt of musky brimstone and burnt wood. 

Which only grew more pungent when Satan drew close. 

As you heard resonating footsteps coming your way, your stomach gave another growl; demanding attention and care.

Satan turned from around a corner of pitch black hallway, his head hung a bit lower than usual, as if sleep still weighed down his neck. He wore long grey lounging pants, simple shoes, and a skin tight black tank top. The man yawned, his long tongue and sharp yellow teeth on display like a great serpent. He clicked his teeth together, cracking his jaw, and then lazily walked over to the couch. Where flopped himself onto the durable furniture and he flicked on the TV with a quick click of a remote. A loud commercial rocked the once silent den and the wings over your ears flattened to your head to try and buffer the noise. 

“My Lord?” You tried to call out to him, but your voice was outmatched by the TV. 

“Satanus? Sir?!” You stood up and shouted this time.

Nothing. Satan just drank from the steaming cup of black coffee he held, and it was so strong it burnt your nose from higher on the mantle. 

Your stomach damned attention and desperation set in as you hit the wall of your prison. Some part of you expected to feel pain from hitting the barrier, but nothing came. You frowned and hit the bubble again to make sure. And as you did, you noticed that your banded prison shifted faintly. Curious.

Taking a quick look at Satan, paying you no mind, a mischievous idea came to you. If he couldn’t hear you, you’d make him see you. And maybe if he saw you, he’d feed you. If not for the sake of being kin, he needed you alive for the waiting trial. 

There was not much space in your bubble for a running start, but you managed to back up just enough to slam yourself against the wall hard enough to make your ball roll forward. You slipped but got up, changing again and again as you managed to wobble your cage closer and closer to the edge of the mantle. As you drew closer to the edge and looked down, you realized you were near three stories off the ground. It made sense given how big the dragon was.

You prayed he’d see you falling before you landed. If not that, then at the bare minimum it’d not hurt when you came crashing down. Just to be safe, you tried calling out to Stan once more.

“Hey! Look over here!” You waved your hands widely in the air and jumped a few times, but he merely cracked his neck and changed the channel. 

With a frown and deep breath, your resolve hardened, you continued to slam your body against the ball. As you got to the edge of the mantle, you felt the sway of unbalance threatening your last chance. With one final push, you threw your weight into the wall and your prison silently rolled off. You hadn't anticipated your small body inside being lifted into the air as you fell, nor your hunger pained stomach flipping around like a ball-bearing in a bell. You blinked only a few times, catching a hint of red and gold lashing out to you, before you closed your eyes and braced. 

There was a violent lurch as gravity snapped, colors morphed, shapes bent, and you yelped as your head painfully whipped around. Your body slammed to the bottom of your prison and an agonized hiss leaked from your gritted teeth as you tried to settle. Everything hurt, your ears rang, and your vision spun. But you were still able to make out Satan yelling.

“What in all the seven rings did you do that for?!” Satan held you in his palm; his talons scratched the outside of the bands as he caught you just in time. You must've not responded quick enough for him as he continued to shout. “Arrogant little angel, you must have a death wish!” 

You groaned and rolled onto your back, wincing as your body stung. “I-I’m not arrogant.”

“What?!” Stan yelled. 

“H-Hungry.” You opened your eyes to look at the devil, who was glaring at you with the power of a thousand burning suns. “I’m hungry. You couldn't hear me.” 

“And you thought tossing yourself was the best way to get my fucking attention?!” He was practically snarling as stood from kneeling, and you saw that his coffee cup had been tossed to the side. 

In spite of the pain, you smiled. “It worked though.” 

“And what makes you think this little stunt will get you what you desire?” His voice was venomous. “I could kill you right now and it’d be within my jurisdiction!” 

“You can’t punish a c-corpse.” 

Satan held you to his face, meeting your gaze with a glare. “You’d be surprised of the depravities of hell.” 

“Maybe. But I know you well enough.” 

“Telling yourself whatever lie that makes your stupidity valid isn't healthy.” The man’s voice lowered to a deep rumble; like distant thunder. “Stand up.” 

You tried to pick yourself up, slow and easy, but whimpered as your head was wrecked with white hot pain. Your eyes closed and all you could do was lay. Which got you another jab from Satan. 

“Proud of yourself, starlight? I doubt that.” Satan huffed, his breath smelling like coffee, and you felt the subtle sway of his large gate as he walked somewhere.

“You almost sound worried, My Lord.” Maybe it was the lightheaded sensation clouding your judgement, but you felt the only response to his wrath was another soft smile.

The swaying stopped for a moment and Satan’s voice was an annoyed whisper. “And you sound  suicidal. Perhaps you are. Maybe that’s why you fell from your golden world and down into the dark.”

“Mn, no.” You shook your head and opened your eyes again, meeting gazes with Satan. It was difficult to read his expression as your vision blurred, but there was a hint of calmed skepticism in his four glowing eyes. Whatever the emotion, it was a mere step away from concern. Certainly curious at least. “I told you that you’d learn my reasons why at trial, but I can at least assure you I’m not seeking death.”

“Then, pre-fucking-tell,” Satan continued walking and you held his gaze. “What does an overly trusting, silly little thing like you seek? Heaven surely had everything you needed.”

“Needed, yes. But, not w-wanted.” Before you closed your eyes once more, unconsciousness trying to claim you from the concussion you were suffering, you saw Satan frown. “I wanted … to live. And to be … wanted. To belong. A purpose. Everyone has a purpose, a life to live. No matter above, or below. Everyone but a dimming star, a s-silly cherub, who's been left alone f-for so long. No wishes, no life, none who’d want me to shine.”

You felt tears warm your cheeks and a stained chuckle bubbled in your throat. “I don’t want to be alone anymore.”  

Satan’s breathing was all you could hear for a long while, slow and warm, but he did finally speak with a deep, restaurant tone. “A foolish notion. Admirable, but foolish. You rest now, fallen star. You need medical attention.” 

...

And when you finally passed out, Satan quickened his pace to the workshop; his tail snapping around the heavy metal door pulled to slam it in his wake. The magical runes activated as he stepped inside, sealing the room. No one could get in or out.

Inside the round workshop was a forage set in hellfire, the burning inferno ringed in stones older than sin that always glowed. Hung from iron hooks and sat along shelves were old creations, machines never tested, or some concepts of mechanical machinations he dreamed of between his workout sessions.Though some of his more nasty machines he thought of during therapy. 

Satan had spent his early eras by the forge, enjoying his time crafting long forgotten punishments and crafting the first few generations of Imp kind by glow of the cruel furnace. In his fires, Satan could create and destroy. He preferred the latter. 

The red dragon stormed over to one of his large desks, still littered with the iron shavings of his last idea, and sat down his captured cherub in your prison. He huffed and looked over you as you slept. He barely saw your chest rise and fall. You were so fragile. So tiny. He could crush your head like a grape between his fingers if he wanted. Realistically, he probably should’ve a few days ago. 

Mammon, while acting the part of a pompous clown who had grown too big for his britches, had been right about killing you. It would’ve made this a whole lot easier if he had. The last angel who fell into hell uprooted Satan from his reign of the land, and now he was stuck as only the second most feared being in all the rings. Satan had been the law and ruler until that little golden shit moved in with his scheming queen, and then they cemented their legacy with hell’s “favorite” princess. Who's to say this fallen starlight would be any different?

You could’ve easily been lying to Satan, try to hoodwink him, as a means for escape. The idea of this small angel playing him made Satan’s blood boil. There was no way he’d ever be out schemed by someone so seemingly innocent. Someone so open, too kind. And you smiled far too much. If you did manage to get away from Satan somehow, you’d be eaten alive within a mile outside of his estate. There was no way everything you said was entirely true either, and he knew better then by now to ever take anyone at their word.

At least you were sweet on the eyes.

Satan reached for a few tools and a blank gold band, then took a moment to look over his handiwork. He needed to essentially break the sealing band on the prison to free the cherub for medical treatment, and then once your head injury was tended to he’d reseal you inside.He just needed to hurry and do all of this before you woke up.

But then an annoying realization hit him. The only reason you leapt was to get his attention, because you needed food. And you can't eat when you're asleep. And once sealed back inside, there'd be no way to feed you.

Satan growled and clicked his nails on the top of the sphere. “You’re a lot of work, little shit.” He spat at you with no response.

Like Mammon, the cherub was also right about something important - He couldn’t put a corpse on trial. You needed to eat, maybe bathe as well. And while Satan had cleaned off most of the debris and dirt from when you first smashed into his courtroom, you had been primarily unwashed. Not that he would've ordered someone to clean you while you were unconscious - Satan might have been an asshole, but he was respectful enough to an unconscious person to not remove their clothes without consent. Even he had standards. 

With a feral hiss Satan lulled his head back. There was only one logical path forward. 

With a hot soldering iron in one hand and heavy pliers held in the other, Satan got to work dismantling the prison. Layer by layer, cutting away his rune-cared bands, he removed the enchantments that kept your magic buffered. You still had the cuffs on your wrists and ankles, and then his personally branded collar around your thin throat - All to keep this little fly away in line. But would it be enough?

As the last band fell away, the lock to the cage cracking into fiery ash, your body landed softly on the worship table and you gave a little groan. Then you went incredibly still. Satan waited to see if you’d wake up, holding his breath. You didn’t move. Shit. Were you dead?

“Uh, hello?” He whispered as one of his golden claws moved to poke your shoulder. Nothing. As he moved to poke you a bit harder, you continued to breathe normally.Satan sighed. “Thank fuck.” 

He looked you over in more detail, his claw moving your long hair out of your face. You barely looked old enough to be out of your first century. If you were as old as you claimed to be, surely there was enough power in your little pinky to flick the likes of Mammon at least five miles away; like the little spider bastard he was. Then again, the wards you blasted through to get into hell might have siphoned enough of your power to make you as meek as a kicked puppy. Still, Satan needed insurance. 

His claw moved down your neck, over your shoulders, and then lower to feel over your soft green and white wings. To a lower level angel, feathers were a dime-a-dozen. If one were plucked, it was just like some cutting off a lock of hair. But for someone of your linage? It could mean more. His talons masterfully moved into your down, feeling around for a longer but less essential feather, and with a quick tug plucked it from your wing. 

You groaned again and your small wing flinched, but you remained out like a light.

Satan only gave the feather a quick look over, some residual radiance glowing from inside it, before he growled and tucked it into a nearby lock-box. The feather was sealed inside and he put the container up on a nearby shelf for safe keeping. He then turned back to you and, with all the grace and care the sin of wrath could muster, he lifted you into his palm. Given his size, Satan was used to people feeling light in grip, but you felt lighter than a cloud. 

Satan turned from his workshop, the door closing again as he left, and he walked back to the living room. Waiting for him there was his therapist, who was quietly ordering the imp staff to clean up the broken coffee cup and the puddle of coffee. 

“Heeey there, Satan.” Yogrit greeted him with a weary smile. “How are you doing this morning?”

Satan chuffed. “Could be better. My coffee is fucked.”

A few of the staff scattered away to prepare another coffee without question.

“Yes, so it seems. Did you accidentally drop it or-?” As Yogirt flew up to Satan's level, the smaller demon looked down to you held in his wide red palms. “Oh. Oh.” 

He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I don’t have the time to answer questions, but get a doctor here now. The prisoner is hurt.” 

Yogirt nodded, his expression calm and serious. “Of course. I know someone who  to call.”

Satan nodded, strolled back to his couch and sat as slow as he could; as not to jostle you around and make your concession any worse. Awkwardly he grabbed a pillow and delicately laid you there; mindful of your head. His fingers lingered for a moment too long, admiring your soft hair against his scaly fingers, and he didn’t notice an imp maid staring wide-eyed at him; while barely managing to hold Satan’s new coffee up towards him. With a purposefully low reach, Satan took the cup and held a dangerous glare at the maid as she made a nervous, but also carefully calculated, retreat out of his sight. 

Without much fuss, Yogirt had already flown off somewhere and was speaking softly into a cell phone. 

Satan called out. “And get someone to bring, I don’t know, more clothes. Small clothes.”

“Clothes?” Yogrit responded with an inquisitive brow raise. His eyes moved to your sleeping body, then back to Satan. “Do you think she might also require shoes? And, erm, other things?” 

Satan’s mind felt like it was running on empty, fuzzy, as he tried to think on what the demon was at. “Uhh, shampoo? She smells.” 

“Okay, that’s good to know. But how about,” Yogirt cleared his throat. “Socks? Pajamas?”

Satan glared as he took a long drink of his coffee. “Just fucking say it, Yogrit. I’m in no mood to be psychoanalyzed today.” 

 “Undergarments.” The therapist said plainly, which nearly made Satan choke. “I’ll make sure someone goes to get our guest some attire that fits. I’m sure something in the new Velvette spring collection will work.” 

The great dragon coughed hard and beat a fist to his chest. “Yeah, fine, whatever. Just get it done.” 

When Satan was left alone once more, he growled and relaxed on the couch. He turned the TV back on, a truck rally with monstrous cars crashing into one another. He was content to mindlessly watch the spectacle, but from the corner of his eyes Satan saw you wince in pain from the blasting music. He lowered the volume with an annoyed grumble. What a fucking fantastic start to the day. 

Surely nothing else would go wrong today … Right?

Satan held his sights on you, ignoring the TV for a while, and made sure his restraints were still working; their red glow casting a rosy color over your skin. They were holding and Satan was content to not test anymore of his bad luck for at least the rest of the morning.

HEY LOOK, its you! Welcome to the end of part three~ ❤️ And we finally got Satan's POV! That's gonna happen a lot more of him now that the story is kicking off from here. I'm gonna try to show the change of POVs with colors. Green will be the Reader and Red will be for Satan!

🫘🫘🫘Thank you my little beans! 🫘🫘🫘 I hope you had a good read and will stick around for the next part!

[newtxoxo]

Saw someone assign animals to MD characters so I feel the need to now

Uzi- Little brown bat, black rat and Androctonus crassicauda (black scorpion), dragonfly

Doll- Silver fox , civet, crow (IK CROW IS MOSTLY UZI BUT I CAN EXPLAIN!!) , badger

N- Sheep, golden retriever but that’s a given , White footed mouse, grey wolf

V-Mink, Lynx , Alaskan tundra wolf , snow leopard

Cyn/solver- Chameleon , Hyena , African wild dog ,Spider tailed viper ,

J- Swan, northwestern wolf , orca , German shepherd

Tessa- Doe, lamb , swan , mourning dove , Hummingbirds

Lizzy- Rabbit, eyelash viper, northern ghost bat, orchid mantis

Thad - border collie

Nori- Black house spider , black British shorthair , Lioness

Khan- male seahorse

That’s all for now

[lammfleisch]

October

♤ Highlights ♤ 2/2

Things i have watched, read, cried about.

~ 2024 Edition ~

• January •

♡ Highlights ♡

- Gyeongseong Creature

- World War 2: From the Frontlines

[mrs-gauche]

I think it's interesting how on the new official cover, the characters and darkspawn are all placed within the outline of the dragon's wings, which is reminiscent of the vinyl artwork with the blighted Black City and how in this one, the heads of the elven pantheon were also "merged" with the wings of the blighted dragon!

And on top of that, as people have already pointed out, the fact that we have seven companions now, matching with the number of elven gods that were imprisoned by Solas, is a little suspicious as well. 👀

Then there's also the seven statues seen at the ritual site in the gameplay showcase and at the end of the reveal trailer. And as we know now, these statues were an essential part of the ritual itself!

And speaking of the ritual, the Game Informer article told us that Solas had planned to "move" the elven gods to a new prison, as the old one was failing. With the concept art(?) that was revealed along with the Game Informer article, we now have three different depictions of Solas' ritual...

(Btw, I will forever be sour that they got rid of the cape! 😂 Also, either Solas went from being right handed to left handed to right handed again OR the concept art image is mirrored, I guess? lol)

What stands out to me is how the concept art shows this huge rocky structure.. object (how would you describe this? 😂) right above this magical "sphere" that is obviously not there in the gameplay showcase (though note that there *are* some floating rocks seen above the statues in the reveal trailer!). And it's interesting how, in the cinematic version, it looks more like the Veil is "shattered", revealing a bright sphere in its center, where it previously showed another sphere right above the Golden City? 👀

And speaking of the Golden/Black City... we also have this sequence at the end of the reveal trailer, showing a massive battle against a horde of darkspawn(?) and a ginormous dragon (that doesn't seem to be the one on the vinyl cover?), in a location that has similar architecture as the Golden City depicted on the vinyl cover, as well as the eclipse in the background of course!

Which is so baffling to me, because I would've assumed that the Black City would be, like, some climactic moment/reveal/endgame stuff, and I doubt they would show something like this if it was in fact part of the final boss battle of the game or something, right?? 😂 Like, why would they spoil the friggin Black City in the reveal trailer? o_O (Then again, they kinda already revealed the look of the Black City on the vinyl cover, too? 😂)

Anyway. 😂 Let us go back to the cover art again, because I've seen a lot of people talk about the shape of the wings in particular!

Like, I've even seen people compare the shape of the wings here to a spider? 😂 To me, it kinda looks more like the wings could also resemble those of a corvid (as in the "rook" bird) that could just as well belong to Rook here with the way this is composed (like, the wings could belong to either Rook or the dragon)?

And in the background, behind the dragon, I can see a hint of the "tambourine"/circle image we've seen since the 2018 teaser.

And maybe it's just my eyes playing tricks on me, but I can also kinda see how the bright light in the background has a similar outline to the Veilguard symbol?

And the shape of the Veilguard symbol looks to me like a mix of a dragon/wolf and a bird's head or simply "V" for Veilguard, on top of resembling ancient statues of Mythal (reminder that Solas has "absorbed" some part of Mythal now and that the Dread Wolf in Tevinter Nights was described to be "the size of a high dragon with shaggy spiked hide")! 👀👀👀

And btw, who else is kinda going a little bit crazy over the fact that Rook's mask/helmet thingy looks an awful lot like Mythal's mask as well???

The funniest thing though, was probably seeing people compare this symbol to the Batman logo?? 😂

Which is especially hilarious to me, given that the last chapter of Tevinter Nights was entirely inspired by an old episode of the animated Batman series from 1992 (specifically, season 1 episode 35) in which Batman does pretty much the same thing as Solas in that chapter. lol There's also the "The Dread Wolf Rises"/"The Dark Knight Rises" and is it just me or has Trick Weekes made a ton of Batman references on Bluesky lately? 😂

Anyway, that's all I've got for now, what do you guys think?? :D