#spawn box

[tangled-shoelace]

i remember i saw a scrapped concept art of a kamen rider spawn variant from 2007 if i remember correctly? can you imagine if they made a magical girl and a tokusatsu spawn variants that would be so cool

I AM BACK FROM MY HOLE WITH A LOT TO ANSWER! JOY!!! that would be so so cool. magical girl spawn…..lovely………

[pursuitseternal]

F!Durge who is a Great Old One warlock with Astarion: 3. “I want to please you.” Preferably during the graveyard scene with her telling him that

“Please…”

UA Spawn x f!Reader | E | Smut Asks Prompts

CW: public sex, body worship, whimpering vampires

Kinktober Bingo: tittyfuck

A cool summer night… a single white star flower… and freedom.

Sweet, blissful freedom.

He lays on you, knee hooked inside your own, spreading you open so as to grind his hardening length against your sex. This time is different from your other trysts… this time, you look up at Astarion, his pale skin still damp from washing the remnants of Cazador’s bloodspatter from the battle. From the final act of vengeance.

You can hardly believe you’re here, on his grave in the dead of night. You would pinch yourself to make certain this was real, but the weight of his lean frame grinding against your cunt is enough to convince you. You’re here, and so is Astarion.

His body is everywhere, a crush of sinew as he presses you and spreads you into the dirt.

“My love,” you whimper, caged by his strength, his fervor.

“It’s you I want… all of you, every last piece of your heart and soul, your body and blood…” he raps, tongue tangled with yours, hand fisted in your hair. You can feel his hunger, his desperation, and after today, you wish nothing more for him than peace and freedom… and love.

“Astarion,” his name tumbles in a whisper from your lips as they work against his. “Lay back.”

“Why, when I have everything I’ve ever wanted right here?” you can hear his dripping confidence, feel his lips twisting in a conceited grin.

Summoning all your strength, your powers, you grab his shoulders and roll. He grunts, dust flying as your bodies tumble end for end once... twice… until he stops. The irony of where he lays, head of silver curls just brushing his headstone, it makes your heart stop. Those wide, red eyes stare up at you in shock and in awe. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he chuckles, hands now grabbing at your hips, his own resuming that slow grind up into your clothed cunt.

Your pointer finger presses over his cracked lips, dry from the salt of his tears today. “Hush, love,” you soothe, “you know what you want. Now I’ll show you what I want… I want to please you…”

“Excellent,” he growls, voice scratching his throat in rough and husky tones.

“I want… every part of me to please you,” you respond. Your voice is quiet, sweet. The movements of your body are in total control, trying to move with grace against the desperate buck of his hips into you. Your two hands cradle his face, your fingers thread through the damp silver hair at the nape of his neck. “Starting with these lips of mine, the ones that can’t help but whine and whimper when you touch me…” you breathe into his mouth, your warmth invading his chill, heating him as he cools you. Your kiss is gentle, tasting of innocence and affection, just the brush of your warm, fleshy, pursed lips on his.

You feel his breath hitch, the slightest gasp at the contact, as it breaks his streak of hunger with its adoration.

You grind, slow, torturous rolls of your folds over his leathers… and the slightest breath of a whimper from his lips snaps something inside you. You sit up, grab him by those limp ruffles of his collar and yank him upright with you. He snarls at your sudden aggression, lips pulled back to the right to bare his fang.

You trail rough, open mouthed kisses over his chest and stomach, hands tugging that old silk off his torso. Eagerly, he gives you aid, his pale skin pearlescent and luminous in the moonlight. Your breath catches as you slot yourself between his thighs. A creature of darkness, those red, unearthly eyes making your cunt clench with desire and your heart race with natural fear.

And you love it. You crave it. You want to tame the monster and please him until he’s nothing more than a purring pet nestled between your thighs… “My fierce… devoted… vampire,” you murmur, planting kisses down those etched diagonal lines of his hips. “So strong… so hungry… so free…” you continue, nuzzling the throbbing hardness beneath his pants. You can feel it stiffen, sense it twitch as you sniff it, kiss it, suck it barely through the fabric. Your teeth nip through the soft leather, earning you a low growl and a rumbling, “Hells, my love.”

“Does it please you?” You ask, nibbling him as he twitches against your lips through his pants.

“What do you think?” Astarion laughs breathlessly, his hands working to unfasten the straining gap. But, your hands stop him. “Naughty,” you chide him, bringing his fingers to your mouth to suck and nip those too. “You are figuring out what you want… you want me. And I, what I want is to please you. Not let me… allow me… to please you.”

You slink his leathers down just enough for his cock to emerge, hard and pulsing and ridged with those familiar veins that weave perfectly around his length. Barely stopping to wet your lips, you suck him in, the taste of salt and musk, that addictive flavors you know by heart now covers your tongue. “Hells,” he groans, leaning back on the ancient headstone. “You really are lucky I don’t need to breathe or you’d steal my breath, darling,” his silken voice catches in his throat, husky and deepening as you take him into your mouth. You want to feel him on every inch of you, your skin screaming to press against his smooth cool body.

It’s a desperation, a drive to satisfy him and please him as he has never been before. Your hands slip your breasts from the collar of your shirt, the buttons loosening to let them spill out. And all the while you bob your mouth up and down, letting his cockhead brush the back of your throat. His shaft is slick with spit, drenched from your lips.

Perfect.

The warm softness of your breasts cradles his cock as you press them around that slick shaft. Crimson eyes wide, his fang bites his own lip to give a trickle of his own blood down his chin. Gaze devouring the sight of you in his lap, he groans, hips bucking to thrust his cock up into your tits. With every plunge upwards, you suckle the weeping head of his cock. And it takes all your strength, your concentration, to keep your breasts pressing snuggly around him.

His nails dig into the dirt, clawing their way deeper in total… complete… ecstasy. “Love… my love,” he grunts, eyes wild with desperate need, blood trickling down his chin.

“Pleased?” You whisper between sloppy kisses on his cockhead.

“Very,” he snarls in reply, one hand reaches to yank the back of your head, fingers knotted in the small, fragile hairs at your nape. He pulls you forward, crushing your mouth to his. Copper and metal tickles your tongue as you taste his own cut lip. His hands lift the skirt of your gown, lining you up just right, cock pushing and pulsing against your soaked underthings. “Keep pleasing me… please,” he purrs, desperation tasting so sweet on his darting tongue.

You shift over his cock, a single pull of your clothing and she slots right inside your dripping cunt. Then, you ride him with abandon. There is nothing else in the world… no enemies, no threats, no tadpoles. Not even strangers spending late night vigils by their loved one’s graves. At least… you wouldn’t know. Not with the way you are keeping vigil on his grave. He fills you, buried to the hilt as you start to bounce. His nails dig into the crest of your hips, lifting and slamming you back down, matching the thrusts of his hips. He rolls them, matching your downs with upward snaps, thumb wandering into that sweet heated crux of your thighs to catch your clit. You hiss, grabbing his wrists. “I was supposed to please you, my love,” you hiss as he circles your aching, tingling nub faster.

“But making you come, watching you fall apart on my cock… nothing would please me more, darling…” he purrs, that voice no longer velvet as he huffs and growls, rough with his own exertions as he fucks you. Those arms wrap around you as he pulls himself to sit up, your body slamming down with wet squelches as you bounce on his lap. Only now, in this position, he can taste you, kiss you… bite you.

Fangs on your skin, buried in your neck… the ice and heat are nothing compared to the searing drive you have inside you to please him. To make him come undone, to love you and to feel your love in return.

It’s a warm whirlwind of pleasure and pleasing, of desire and disastrous mess as you come on his lap, and he fills you with his seed. As he bites your neck and slurps down your blood between ragged breaths once he’s come inside you.

You catch your breath, damp foreheads pressed together as he grips his hands into your ass. His cock is still hard inside you, warming now with desire and fresh blood. Hips lift slightly, a silent request for you to move more. Move again. And then his lips whisper one word against your own.

“Please.”

[alwayshinny]

Harry & James Sirius 🧹 - Ginny Potter's biggest fans

When your little man insists on sitting among the Harpies fans, cheering on his mom and telling them that when he's a 'big boy,' he'll play for the Harpies like her.

James has spotted the snitch, but Harry is fixated on his wife's arse.

[internutter]

Not being normal about BG3

Not being normal about that little gasping gulp Astarion does after he gets human(oid) blood for what's possibly the first time. How out of breath and astonished he is at how it feels.

Not being normal about how he was wheedling and pleading beforehand, bargaining for "just a drop".

Not being normal about how shocked and surprised he is

Completely not being normal about how the rants about rats and bugs and Cazador puts that little gulp into a whole new perspective.

Especially not being normal about when you find him bear-drunk and he compares human(oid) blood [YOURS!] to a fine wine in contrast to the "plonk" of animal blood. Or the "sewer water" of rats.

...and not being normal about Larion not allowing our Tav's to get blushy about being "a fine wine" for a nice little conversation derailment...

This tiny gasp is that of someone who's never had anything close to a proper meal in two hundred fucking years.

No wonder he wants to hold on to what we players give him with both hands. No wonder he throws all his ploys at you to try to keep you.

And I'm not even out of Act 1.

[cacturnia]

Two of them!!

[hoursofcannibal]

the 3 fucking box o chocolates: shelly edition

[velvetjune]

The Formation | Control

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

Valentines day with childe and the sweet moth boi

I feel like legacy would spend the whole day cuddling while childe spoils then rotten with anything money can buy

oh these two would be RELENTLESSLY affectionate for the holiday no questions asked

not that they don't adore and pamper you every other day of the year, but this day is one that Foul Legacy KNOWS he can convince you to stay home just to cuddle with him. he's awake and fully prepared to snuggle on top of you before you even register that the sun has risen, purring ramping up the instant you open your eyes as he trills and chirps and nuzzles his head against your cheek. Childe is out and about, forced to complete his Harbinger duties for the day before coming home, but he leaves a meltingly sweet letter and a cup of hot cocoa with cream on the table for you, promising to be back as soon as possible. Legacy simply yawns, insisting on carrying you around wherever you go, playfully nibbling on your fingers as you run your hands through his thick, coppery hair. you tap the center of his mask, beneath his glittering eye, and he chitters happily

true to his word, Childe returns a couple of hours earlier than usual, arms full of flowers. they're all the types you would go out and pick together, from qingxin and silkflowers to glaze lilies and violetgrass. you always beamed whenever the local flowers bloomed, and Childe takes great joy in arranging some in a vase before tucking your favorite behind your ear, a favor you instantly return with a glaze lily a shade or two darker than the rest. he laughs, the blue rich against his hair, and sweeps you into his arms with a theatrical twirl, Foul Legacy circling you both and cooing. he's got a few more gifts for you- some pastries you both love, a tiny glass whale to compliment the plush narwhal you got for him as well- but right now he just flops over onto the bed, hugging you on top of him. Legacy curls around both of you, resting his head on your stomach and purring loud enough to wake the dead, completely and utterly content

and surrounded by fluffy hair and lilac fur and armor and freckles, you smile, brightly

[gummi-ships]

Kingdom Hearts 3 - Boarding a Gigas

[boybellyconnoisseur]

"Pregnant by who or what or when or where, irrelevant 😌" Well~ Picture then a boy whose belly contains it all: The natural child of a one night stand; nestled alongside a monstrous litter put in there one moonlit night in the woods; a clutch of eggs implanted by aliens; and the regressed form of his boyfriend, who was afraid to support him through all this~

A little sampler of everything I love, don’t mind if I do 😻

I doubt so many different things would get along well in such a cramped womb, constantly fighting for space… Never a moment in which that boy’s belly doesn’t have a shape or two sticking out, never able to find a comfortable position anywhere. All because he couldn’t seem to keep his legs shut for anything that showed interest in him, and now he has a burgeoning belly that truly keeps his thighs spread 24/7, with who knows how much longer to wait and how much bigger to grow 🥵

[tangled-shoelace]

I think he has some neat poses too. Do you thibk sometimes he forgets himself and acts like a cat or something. He's enjoyable to me. spawnie shmoockums ily. I like when you pearch

why he doing that. peculiar little creature. Imagine him randomly hissing at a man. Beautiful

I used to have cohesive thoughts on this actually but they all got violently sucked out of my brain when Doctor Who had me in its clutches. especially with him showing more animalistic behaviours. something something straying from the humanity he so desperately craves when he’s at a low point in his life

[pursuitseternal]

Congrats on 1500 followers! Can I please play your Smut Ask game? Please? 👉👈 🫣

19. “You’re all mine” - “hm…” - “say it” - “I’m all yours.”

Ft. Astarion x Reader

“I’m all yours…”

Act 3 Astarion x Reader

CW: tooth rotting fluff, mating press, creampie

No more Underdark, no more Shadow Curse…

Sunlight once more on your skin, and Astarion couldn’t bring himself to leave it. Rivington was loud and crowded, but you don’t care. Not when you can see him smiling again now that you managed your way through the darkness of Reithwith. Back in the City….

Back into the sun.

It took some convincing, but Gale finally agreed to let you and your love take an afternoon to lose yourselves in the light.

Just a picnic, you had offered to Astarion. Well, a basket of food for you, a scroll of lesser restoration, and your neck for him.

Away from the crowds and eyes now, you spread your blanket on the grassy hill. The sun at its zenith, you can feel it tingling and burning your skin.

But Astarion craves that, you realize, as he pulls off his cream, ruffled shirt and lays at your feet in naught but his leathers. You scan him, shaking your head. That smirk on his face already tells you it won’t be long before those warm brown trousers are set aside too. He picks up the scroll to heal you and giggles. “Somebody planned for some extensive aftercare,” his smirk deepens.

You just give him a knowing smile, flounce your skirts, and settle on the blanket beside him. His fingers tease the pale pink ruffles in the hem of it. “I didn’t think you would ever wear something so… delicate. I almost don’t recognize you without a shiny, metal can on your body.” His crimson eyes rake over your form, noticeably lingering on the skin that shows— your legs beneath your skirt, your forearms that dart from the short frilled sleeves, and your bosom that bursts out the top of your bodice. “…almost,” he breathes, eyes settling on the marks that have grown on the side of your neck.

One arm extends towards you. Your heart in your throat, and down you go, already laying alongside of him, sprawling in the sun and cradled by his arm. His cool breath wafts over your neck as he nuzzles your bite scars. “I only need a taste, I swear…” comes the age old request, his little ritual of asking each time, even if the answer is always the affirmative, whispered like a prayer from your lips.

His fangs sink in slowly, his skin warmed all over by the heat and radiation of the sun. You know, as your blood runs and courses through both your bodies, you know he actually feels alive.

He wants to live, and now, he feels like it—the bloom of life within from your blood, the blazing light of the sun on his pale skin.

It doesn’t take much to coax him, just a sweep of your hand across his lower back, and he’s on top of you, sucking loudly in your ear. That ruinous body of his slots between your thighs, and now you realize just why he had teased you so often to wear a dress for once.

His lips drink you down, but his hands, those cool, featherlight hands skate up your outer thighs. The whisper thin fabric of your skirt ghosts up more and more… until he’s rucked it up around your waist.

His voice tickles your ear as he moans into your neck. “Oh… darling, I can already feel how wet you are. All this… just for me?” Fingers tease your panties, right where your dampness gathers. “Such a display of carnal lust, you wanton minx. All this is mine… you’re all mine…”

“Hmm?” You pull yourself out of your hazy cocoon of bliss and warmth, your body growing warmer and more aroused by your lover’s weight and the sun’s heat.

“Say it,” he orders, punctuating his command with a roll of his hips into your mound, even as his fingers press that damp gusset of your underthings to catch you clit.

You loll your head back to center, opening your half-lidded eyes to look up at him. Sunlight glows like a halo around his silken, silver hair, making it hard to see anything of his face than the gleaming crimson of his eyes. Your answer bubbles to your tongue as you lift your hips. “I’m yours, all yours,” you breathe.

“If that doesn’t just warm my undead heart,” he purrs. “How about a treat for my treat… it is a summer picnic after all…”

His mouth presses sweetly and softly against your lips. Wet and insistent, his tongue presses between your lips, and you let him in. He squishes your breasts as he shifts his weight, his hands hurrying to free his cock as he just lowers his leathers enough. That warmed, blunt cock head teases your entrance, your panties barely a barrier between you; and it’s one he so easily conquers with a slight tug of his finger.

“There we go,” he purrs as inch by inch he fills you. He’s slow and tender, working inside you with gentle rolls of his hips. All is warm and heavy, full and undulating. His mouth is locked to yours, his cock buried deep in your sex. And you have to keep your eyes closed, the light of the sun almost as blinding as how brightly he burns for you.

Drowning in the rhythm of his fucking, you are swept further into your bliss with every roll of his hips. His cock, thick and perfect, drags across every inch of your cunt, catching those places that make your spine arch and your belly coil with heat. Hot within, hot without. He presses his heavy frame into you, driving you into the blanket and dirt. He groans in your mouth, the metallic taste of your blood still strong on his tongue. Wave after consuming wave, his thrusts snap against you, that addictive flesh-slapping sound muffled by your simple skirts. He grins, lifting your thighs to press them to your chest. Your cunt bare to the light and revealed to the sun, now his thrusts echo in your ear and down your spine.

He floods you with pleasure, all your skin exposed for his touch. His thrusts grow erratic, his breathing against your flesh ragged. He’s near, so near… just a little more and you know he will tingle with pleasure in his balls and warm with bliss from the inside out.

A roar in your ear, and he fills you, coating you with cum deep inside your cunt. It’s enough to make you tremble and cling, to buck and writhe as your match him in his climax.

Hot all over. And just as loved.

Your hands trace the scars on his back, thier rises and ridges familiar by heart. But for now, his skin’s heat matches the afterglow of that slow-rolling passionate love making.

He’s warm and sweet, mischievous and cunning…. And he’s all yours.

Smut Ask List | Astarion Masterlist

[clickbeetle]

i know the episode came out a month ago and no one’s talking about it anymore, but i just cannot get this question out of my head.

why the hell did zooble’s room spawn a gangle mask?

[rawrsatthetree]

I love both versions of his story and it kinda rubs me the wrong way how Spawn Astarion purists will harass and judge people who enjoy Ascended Astarion while also picking and choosing traits they like from Ascended Astarion (and Wyll but that’s another discussion) to give to Spawn Astarion.

Batstarion? That’s a power only A!Astarion has. Spawn don’t have powers like that.

Dadstarion? A!Astarion actually mentions wanting children. S!Astarion doesn’t want to settle down.

Married Domestic Astarion? A!Astarion is actually happy to settle down in Baldur’s Gate. S!Astarion wants to travel and adventure, he even says settling down sounds boring.

You don’t want either Astarion, you want this guy:

[spawnsfollower]

Meow mewo moew mewo emow meow meow meow emeoemwmoewmeow moew meow moew mowe moew iewmeow moew moew omeeow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meow meowe meow meow moew moew

mepw meow moepmeow

"Meow ?????" "I do not know if you are meowing as an attempt to communicate or not but i can speak normally?"

[lethality-of-dual-strike]

here are some pixie designs (and Cupid) i was messing around with for an AU that's consumed my entire soul. i like to think that there are differences between the pixies, even if it is funny they mostly look the same.

the "nicknames" are what Cupid calls them. Pearce/Ink was a last minute addition but he's probably my favorite of the bunch (aside from Sanderson of course). i think the most embarrassing thing is i actually have more pixie OCs in other AUs. they're very special to me.