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rusty_kink2018-06-02 12:37 pm
gertrude_robinson) wrote in rusty_kink2018-06-02 12:37 pm
Prompt Post: The Magnus Archives #1
Rules
1. All comments to the meme must be anonymous. Linking to fills on AO3/Tumblr/website of your choice is allowed, but comments here must still be posted anon.
2. Concrit is welcome if the author requests it, but character bashing, kink shaming, and hijacking threads by derailing prompts with contrary comments or asking for additions to the prompt are not allowed.
3. Warning for spoilers and subjects such as non-con, incest, underage, character death and worms is highly recommended, but not mandatory.
4. Crossover prompts between Rusty Quill Gaming and The Magnus Archives may be posted to both posts.
5. Please link all fills to the fill post.
6. Don't be an asshole. Mods reserve the right to freeze, screen or delete at their discretion.
7. While it should go without saying (kink meme and all) please be advised that much of the content here may not be appropriate for individuals under 18.
8. Update: All prompts can be filled by more than one person. Two cakes (or three, or four) are always appreciated.
While spoiler warnings are not required, if you would like to spoiler cut anything, you can use the following code:
Prompting Guidelines
1. The prompt should begin with "Prompt:"
2. The fill should begin with "Fill:". Otherwise there should be no change to the title.
2. Include the names of the character(s) or pairing(s) in the title, followed by the kink or trope if applicable. Pairings should be formatted A/B(/C/D).
3. If you would like to provide warnings, please put them in the first line of the comment to prevent the titles from getting too long.
And example title: Prompt: Jon/Plant monster, sex pollen
Links
Ask a Mod
Fills Post
Chat and Off-Topic Discussion
AO3 Collection
1. All comments to the meme must be anonymous. Linking to fills on AO3/Tumblr/website of your choice is allowed, but comments here must still be posted anon.
2. Concrit is welcome if the author requests it, but character bashing, kink shaming, and hijacking threads by derailing prompts with contrary comments or asking for additions to the prompt are not allowed.
3. Warning for spoilers and subjects such as non-con, incest, underage, character death and worms is highly recommended, but not mandatory.
4. Crossover prompts between Rusty Quill Gaming and The Magnus Archives may be posted to both posts.
5. Please link all fills to the fill post.
6. Don't be an asshole. Mods reserve the right to freeze, screen or delete at their discretion.
7. While it should go without saying (kink meme and all) please be advised that much of the content here may not be appropriate for individuals under 18.
8. Update: All prompts can be filled by more than one person. Two cakes (or three, or four) are always appreciated.
While spoiler warnings are not required, if you would like to spoiler cut anything, you can use the following code:
<div tabindex="-1"><b>spoiler title</b><div>Some spoilery content.</div></div>
Prompting Guidelines
1. The prompt should begin with "Prompt:"
2. The fill should begin with "Fill:". Otherwise there should be no change to the title.
2. Include the names of the character(s) or pairing(s) in the title, followed by the kink or trope if applicable. Pairings should be formatted A/B(/C/D).
3. If you would like to provide warnings, please put them in the first line of the comment to prevent the titles from getting too long.
And example title: Prompt: Jon/Plant monster, sex pollen
Links
Ask a Mod
Fills Post
Chat and Off-Topic Discussion
AO3 Collection
Re: FILL 3/?: Jon/Martin, Manhandling, Size Difference=
(Anonymous) 2020-02-08 05:23 am (UTC)(link)When Martin picks him up and lifts him over a shoulder like he weighs nothing, he doesn't fight it in the slightest. Doesn't want to. Gets distracted, more than anything, in the possibilities of what might come after this. He goes limp.
“I love you,” Martin says as he puts Jon down onto the mattress, big hands so gentle Jon could cry with it.
“I love you too,” Jon says. He has never meant it as much as he means it in this moment. All he wants is for Martin to claim him. Own him.
Martin climbs onto the bed and straddles him, looking down, and the kindness in his gaze makes a lump rise in Jon's throat.
“Ask me,” Jon says.
“What do you want?”
There's the faintest buzz of compulsion, weak but there, and it's almost what Jon needs.
“Ask me,” he says again. Martin closes his eyes for a moment and then opens them again, and this time there is a glow to them, faint but vibrant green.
“Tell me what you want,” Martin says.
This time, the power comes through, wound around Martin's words, and Jon is no longer given the luxury of hesitation. He shudders. It's just what he needs.
“I want you to pin my hands to the bed and fuck me,” he says, the words out of his mouth before fear and hesitation can take them away. “I want it to hurt. I don't want to think anymore.”
Martin's gaze sharpens.
“Are you sure?” he asks, and Jon nods.
“I thought--” Martin begins, but doesn't finish, and Jon's cheeks hurt with the flush that rises to them. He 'doesn't.' Martin knows that, and he Knows Martin knows that. And here he is, wanting it nonetheless. Wanting Martin so badly his bones ache with it.
“What do you want?” Jon asks as he wriggles out of his trousers, the sharp heat of Martin's gaze making even the drag of fabric against his skin feel electric. The curling weight of his compulsion wraps heavy around his words.
Martin shudders.
“I want to fuck you,” he says, and he bites his lip to hold back the rest but it comes out nonetheless, mumbled and quick and a little slurred. “I want to make you hurt because I know you'll like that, and I will too. So much. I want you to tell me it's too much, you can't, and--” Martin claps a hand over his own mouth, muffling the rest of the words.
“Martin,” Jon says, wrapping a hand around Martin's to draw it away from his mouth. “Tell me the rest.””
“I don't want to,” Martin says, even as he reaches down and undoes the top button of Jon's shirt, and then the second, and then the third, baring the mottled brown of Jon's skin to the cold night air. “I don't want you to look at me differently if I say it, or be afraid of me, and I don't know if before Peter I would have—”
“Peter is dead,” Jon growls. I ripped him apart, he doesn't say, but they both know. Martin shudders.
Martin's hands wrap tight around his wrists, hard enough to bruise, and Jon goes limp. Even as the buzzing in his ears grows louder and the world around their bed goes cold and foggy, he surrenders, legs open to the predator looming above him.
“I love you,” Martin says, leaning down to press a kiss to the crook of Jon's neck that makes him gasp and squirm in place. “I love you so much. I shouldn't want to hurt you.”
Jon's smile is a faint but determined thing. “I want you to. I want to be marked by an Entity on my own terms, for once.”
“I'm not--”
“It's alright.” Jon reaches out blindly and fumbles for the nightstand drawer until his fingers close around the bottle of lube inside it. “I'm not human either anymore. We don't have to pretend.”
He forces his eyes closed as Martin slicks up his fingers. Arousal isn't new. Looking at someone, at Martin, and thinking, I want you, makes the curling heat in his gut twist so hard it's nearly painful, and he can't watch anymore. Is this what it's like for everyone else? he wants to ask, and Martin kisses his chest, just below the twist of his missing ribs, so tender it aches, and he shudders.
“Maybe not everyone,” Martin says, and Jon's eyes fly open again. “But when I look at you—yeah.”
“You--”
Martin's smile turns wicked and he reaches down and rubs a lube-slick finger over Jon's hole. “Yeah, I heard that.”
Re: FILL 4/4: Jon/Martin, Manhandling, Size Difference=
(Anonymous) 2020-02-08 06:34 am (UTC)(link)“Tell me “red” if it's too much,” Martin says, and Jon can't hear his thoughts, but he Knows all at once that he will say “stop,” later, and not want to stop, and Martin wants to hear that and keep going without having to be afraid of hurting him. He pushes his hips up against nothing at the thought, the burning inside him sharpening into a pain so good it hurts again.
“Not red,” he chokes out, and Martin grins and reaches up to wrap one big hand around both of his wrists as he pushes one thick finger inside, slow and steady, and god. God, it's so much, already, more than Jon has ever taken. He's thought about it. He's thought about what it would feel like to have Martin like this, and this is already more, and all he can do is whimper as Martin's finger curls inside him and lights all of his nerves up.
More, he doesn't say, but Martin knows, and a second finger pushes in alongside the first, a stretch so good it makes his teeth ache. Martin's big fingers fuck him slowly, punching the breath out of him, and he closes his eyes, unable to do anything but moan and push back onto them. It's already nearly too much, but he's going to have to take more, and Martin has him pinned down. He won't have a choice to do anything but.
“Good boy,” Martin says, low and fond as he fucks his fingers in harder, a third threatening at his rim, the whole weight of him pinning Jon in place.
Martin pulls his fingers out and Jon shudders, all at once too empty, and then something much, much bigger than two fingers rubs against his hole. It's going to hurt. He wants it so badly he can barely breathe.
“Stop,” he begs, opening his eyes to watch the way the words wash over Martin. “Please, stop.” Please, just do it. I want you to do it. I want to pretend I meant it when I told you to stop.
Martin takes an unsteady breath. “You sure?”
“Yeah,” Jon says, pushing back against the pressure.
Martin sinks into him, slow and inexorable, so big it punches the breath out of his lungs, and he can feel tears beading at the corners of his eyes as Martin's grip tightens on his wrist, as the weight of Martin's body presses him down into the mattress, entirely unable to escape. He moans, high and reedy, fighting against the grip, but Martin is so much bigger than him that it doesn't matter. He can feel every burning inch as Martin pushes deeper.
“Oh, god,” he chokes out, and Martin smiles.
“Good?” he asks, and Jon nods, lost to it.
Martin's hips press against his, filling him to the root, and he squirms from the pressure, fingers flexing against Martin's tight grip as Martin starts to rock his hips, slow and steady, the whole length of him drawing out in a long, slow burn of a movement before pressing back in, making him cry out as the world around him whites out with pleasure. Martin's other hand drags down his chest, leaving faint red lines from his nails as he goes, and settles at the base of his stomach, just above his straining, desperate cock, and when he looks down he can see the faint swell of his stomach every time Martin sinks in fully, the way Martin's hand presses down to feel himself from the outside.
“Martin,” Jon whimpers, and Martin fucks into him harder, taking the word and breaking it halfway through, Martin's name turning into a whining plea.
He pushes his hips back against Martin's, forcing him deeper, and it hurts, it hurts, and he says, “Stop, please,” because he knows Martin will like it even as his eyes swim with tears. He wants it to hurt. He wants to be ruined.
Martin fucks into him harder, faster, hand tightening around his wrists hard enough to bruise, and all at once the rush of sensation overtakes Jon and he comes, untouched, making a mess of the both of them, and Martin's grin sharpens, turns feral, and he fucks in once, twice, hard enough to make Jon cry out, squirming with overstimulation and unable to get away, and then comes deep inside him, a hot rush against his insides. The movement of Martin's hips slow as he finishes, filling Jon up, and all Jon can do is dig his nails into his own palms and hold on, lost to sensation.
“I love you,” Martin says, leaning down to kiss him openmouthed and messy, and Jon kisses back, legs tightening around Martin's hips to keep Martin where he is inside of him. He feels so good.
“I love you too,” Jon says, and the room is pitch black, and that's the only way he knows that his own eyes are glowing green like Martin's. This is worship. Communion. A gift to the Eye as much as it is to each other.
For once, he doesn't hate that.
*
“My mother used to call me a monster,” Martin says into the darkness, after, arms wrapped around Jon. “She didn't last long enough to know how true that would be.”
“There are worse things than being a monster,” Jon says, and even as he says it he knows perfectly well it's not something he'd ever be willing to say about himself. Martin sighs, curling closer to Jon.
“I didn't want to be,” Martin says. “I just--”
“The older you got, the more you looked like your father, and he hurt her,” Jon whispers into the stillness, the Knowing washing over him all at once. “But you don't have to live life on her terms anymore.”
“No,” Martin says, tugging the blankets further up over the two of them. “But I think about it all the time anyway.”
Jon is quiet for a long moment.
“Neither of us chose to be something that wasn't human. It was something that happened to us,” he says, finally. “You did what you had to to survive.”
“Do you believe that?”
“That you did what you had to?”
“No, that you did.”
“... No,” Jon admits, finally. “But I'm trying.”
He can feel Martin's lips curve into a smile against the back of his neck and a shudder goes down his spine.
“I love you,” Martin says. “I don't care if you're human anymore, not really. But I know you're trying. And that's what I care about.”
“I love you too,” Jon says, because he can't think of anything else to say.
*
The morning creeps in slowly, gentle sunlight and soft, blurring fog and the faint ozone smell of rain to come obscuring the highlands around them. Jon is awake for the dawn. Shuddered awake an hour before sunup, lost in the pained memories of Oliver and all the others.
Martin tightens his grip around Jon's waist and draws him in closer, and Jon breathes out a sigh, relaxing into it. Before, when Martin slept, he would fade into the fog until he was nearly invisible when Jon shook him awake. Now, he's solid and real, a burning heat all along Jon's back.
“Thank you,” Jon whispers into the early morning stillness, and Martin answers with a contented snore.
Re: FILL 4/4: Jon/Martin, Manhandling, Size Difference=
(Anonymous) 2020-02-08 06:55 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL 4/4: Jon/Martin, Manhandling, Size Difference=
(Anonymous) 2020-02-08 11:45 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL 4/4: Jon/Martin, Manhandling, Size Difference=
(Anonymous) 2020-02-08 04:06 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL 4/4: Jon/Martin, Manhandling, Size Difference=
(Anonymous) 2020-02-08 05:58 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL 4/4: Jon/Martin, Manhandling, Size Difference=
(Anonymous) 2020-02-08 07:15 am (UTC)(link)Re: FILL 4/4: Jon/Martin, Manhandling, Size Difference=
(Anonymous) 2020-02-08 11:07 pm (UTC)(link)