Shadrax
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Summary
This—everything about the situation—was absolutely mortifying. He was a television Darkner, for crying out loud! He was made to be on screen, to be captured on camera. Deriving anything but an entirely innocent sense of euphoria from entertaining—no, serving—others would be absolutely deviant! Downright perverse! Beyond that, he was a Dark Lord. He was a shining star of authority; he had a reputation to uphold, an appearance to maintain. If his employees knew about the twisted pleasure he got from the idea of being filmed in such a manner, he'd… well, he'd…
He was hard again. Achingly so.
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Tenna has conflicted feelings about being recorded during sex. Spamton helps him get over those conflicted feelings. -
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"Tens, Tenna, I'm– I'm sorry, I didn't mean it, you know I didn't, I just-" He was dying. His soul was slamming against his ribs, thudding loud in his ears, and it was the only indication that he wasn't dead already. He needed this. Needed it more than he needed air in his lungs. He was dying and this was the only thing that could stop it, the only thing that would rip out the tumor-like dread crawling up through him like a blight. He needed Tenna to reach inside him and rip out the writhing, undulating mass inside him and kill it for good.
Instead of saying any of this, he whispered a ragged "please," and hoped—God, Angel, whatever was listening, he hoped—that the tone of his voice would convey everything his words couldn't.
OR
Spamton copes through pain and sex, and not always separately.
Series
- Part 2 of Spamtenna erotica
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Summary
When did Tenna draft these scenes? Surely he had to have known about Spamton's… fixation. Surely. Or, at least had a suspicion. What other explanation would there be for the sheer number of scenes with Tenna pinning Darkners down and shooting them point blank? Or for the scene where Tenna knocked someone out cold with the butt of the shotgun? Tenna had to have known watching that would do horrible things to Spamton. He had to.
OR
Tenna likes guns. Spamton likes that Tenna likes guns. They fuck about it.Series
- Part 1 of Spamtenna erotica
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Summary
In a moment of desperation, Samson G. Samson makes a deal. He will spend his entire life running from it.
"White took a long drag of his cigarette and slumped back against the wall he leaned on. Smoke curled from his lips, floating lazily in the air. Something twinged behind his eyes, something that wasn't quite a headache but was reminiscent of one. A reminder. A small business card, worn yellow and wrinkled, sat on the bathroom counter. White frowned. That was… a last resort. He wasn't sure why his mind had wandered to it, but he knew that he'd only reach for that card if he had no other option."
OR
A story following Human Spamton from before he meets his benefactor to the moment it all comes crashing down on him.
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A look at the history of TV World and the partnership between Mr. Ant Tenna and Spamton G. Spamton through the eyes of Tenna's employees.
Recent series
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A collection of all my Spamtenna smut fics. These fics are generally independent but take place within the same interpretation of canon (the Shadverse, if you will). There are some references between the fics, but they can each be read a standalones.
- Words:
- 16,084
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 1
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Summary
This establishment really wasn’t Tenna’s scene. Maybe it was a symptom of age, maybe it was a side effect of having a developed prefrontal cortex, but a dark lounge/bar/club/den of degeneracy-type thing with perpetually dim lights and suspiciously sticky seats just didn’t whet his pallet anymore. The thrum of the music pounded his own thoughts out of his head, a rigid tightness settling above his brow bone that would definitely become a tension headache later. That’s what money sounds like: shitty music, cocktail shakers, and desperate people.
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Tenna is the host of a dying gameshow. Spamton is a consultant hoping to strike it big. They meet to talk business.Bookmarked by Shadrax
17 Jan 2026
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Concern sparked through Tenna. When he caught side of her face, it magnified tenfold.
Susie looked awful.
The bags under her eyes, usually more stylist choice than anything, seem dark enough to bruise. Her eyes were bloodshot, streaked red and glassy. Her outfit, literally magic itself, was disheveled to the point of rags.
His heart broke when she raised a hand to wave, because that hand was shaking.
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The little rat creature retrieved Tenna, because one of his favorite Lightners just doesn't know when to quit training.
Tenna may not have a magical fix for everything, but he's going to make it work.
Susie deserves the world. He can at least give her a movie.
Bookmarked by Shadrax
13 Nov 2025
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Summary
It hurt - trying to move the arm at all when it was this uncooperative burned like acid in his servos - but Tenna was stubborn as anything. After a few moments of trying, and Spamton yelling at him to sit still, he finally managed to swing his arm out enough to present his hand.
"Here," Tenna said quietly, shaking with effort. "You can take the ring back."
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Undertale Trash Heap Spamtenna AU.
Or, the one in which Tenna is badly damaged, and he's terrified that he won't be enough for Spamton.
Series
- Part 1 of [A Trash Heap.]
Bookmarked by Shadrax
13 Nov 2025
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Summary
Big Shot Era Tenna's desperate in more ways than one, and takes an up-and-coming Spamton around town to do something about it. He isn't prepared for Spamton to take control of the evening, though — or for how much he likes it.
Bookmarked by Shadrax
29 Oct 2025
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Summary
The spreadsheets, the spreadsheet-ing, God, since when did he draw up his own spreadsheets, had been a pleasant distraction from his racing thoughts, but now?
"Come visit, Ant," He had said quietly over the phone a handful of hours before, exhausted then too, still awake now, "Once you're off the hook."
Bookmarked by Shadrax
13 Oct 2025