gertrude_robinson: (the magnus archives)
gertrude_robinson ([personal profile] gertrude_robinson) wrote in [community profile] 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.
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8. Update: All prompts can be filled by more than one person. Two cakes (or three, or four) are always appreciated.

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<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).
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And example title: Prompt: Jon/Plant monster, sex pollen

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Fill 2/2: Mr. Spider but make it sexy (Jon/Web, noncon, bondage, oviposition)

(Anonymous) 2020-06-19 11:39 am (UTC)(link)
There is no comfort to be had from shutting his eyes, but Jon shuts them anyway. The new spider is surprisingly deft for its massive size: the strands of web supporting his weight barely vibrate as it approaches. It explores his body with its pedipalps, again, but something is different about them. The bulbous swelling at the tip isn't present, and it produces no slick of its own, just spreads around what the other spiders have left. It presses its palp into his mouth every so briefly, pulling a shameful noise from deep in his chest at even that light stimulation. But the appendage is as thick around as his arm, and Jon can't imagine having that pushed inside him, not if he's meant to survive it.

Legs like young trees brace over his head. The spider is settling above him, bringing its abdomen, not its mouth, flush to his upraised are.

Then: nothing.

Jon swallows a few times, though the sensation makes him shiver. He thinks he can speak again. "The fuck are you waiting for," he manages, though it comes out slurred.

Good boys say please, Archive. Don't you want to be a good boy?

Of course. Christ.

"Please," he whispers into the air.

The spider shifts restlessly above him.

He tries again. "Please."

It rubs its bloated abdomen against him, briefly, but the contact is fleeting

Jon bites his lip, briefly, and the pleasure-pain of it lasers through him but it isn't enough, and he is far beyond shame or dignity now. "Please fuck me," he says. "I need it. I need you to -- ah!"

Without changing positions, the spider twitches, and something plunges into his prepared hole. Not a jointed, hairy pedipalp; a smooth shaft of some kind, all of a piece, with a tapered tip.

Of course, he realizes, screaming around intrusion. This one is a female.

She fucks the ovipositor deep into him, and that's all it takes for Jon to come this time, the thick, unyielding organ splitting him open in one movement. As the aftershocks subside, she also goes still, and if he had any capacity left for hope he might wonder if that was all this was going to be. Then he feels the shaft begin to swell where it's lodged. The far end is dilating, growing larger, and Jon thinks he can't possibly stretch that far -- surely it's going to tear him open, leave him a bloody husk?

It doesn't, though. The widest point of the stretch pops past his rim, and presses into his prostate, sending more shuddering waves of pleasure up his spine. Then it moves further in, past the point where he has nerve endings to feel it. He Knows where it is, though, and where it settles as it clears the end of the ovipositor. A gelatinous mass in his guts, left there to incubate by its doting Mother.

The next egg pushes against his hole, and Jon starts crying.

They come faster after the first, and the stretch eases, but the constant battering of his prostate does not. He can feel them building up in his belly, a foreign weight that pulls the skin uncomfortably taut. The spider occasionally strokes him as she pumps egg after egg into his body, but he is too overwhelmed to parse the sensation. He thinks he comes again. Several times, perhaps, or perhaps one endless plateau of jangling nerves and shaking limbs and broken, shuddering moans.

He comes on her shaft as the eggs bloat his abdomen, and at some point she has to lift his upper body so his stomach has room to grow. One massive leg pets the bulge, and perhaps Jon only images her whispering to him: Such a good boy, taking my gifts so well. My beautiful boy. My Archive.

When the last egg is lodged, it takes several minutes for Jon to realize that the process is done. She pulls the ovipositor out, slowly, letting the eggs shift and slide into the space it occupied. There's no way his ruined hole can hold such a load into place, and he has a brief vision of all of them flooding out the way they'd just come in another agonizing, orgasmic tidal wave. But no, she swiftly replaces the organ with something else--a knot of sticky silk that plugs him up completely.

Then she props him upright again, on his knees, and vanishes into the darkness.

Jon doesn't have the luxury of unconsciousness anymore. He does not black out, and he does not forget. As he settles, he is painfully aware that he's still tied into the same pose, though now his egg-stuffed belly hangs over his splayed thighs. The obscene curve of it is enhanced by the forced arch in his back, and the remaining slick makes the taut skin glisten. Are the eggs moving inside him, or is that his own body's confused reaction to its new, unnatural purpose? It isn't as if he's using that space for eating anymore, and if Francis is any indication, he'd better get used to this...

"Jon?"

Martin's voice. A vibration on the net beneath him. Jon looks up, and there is Martin, picking his way across the spider's web on shaking legs. Behind him, Annabelle Cane beams. "Doesn't he look lovely?" she asks, and her voice is strangely familiar. "All wrapped up like a present."

Jon can't speak; his throat is simultaneously too raw and too sensitive, so all that comes out is a soft groan. Martin reaches him and cups his face in both hands. "Jon, look at me. Are you -- of course you're not fucking okay. Christ. What did she do you -- ?"

Martin's stroking his face and it's strange, too much friction or not enough -- Jon turns his head slightly and captures one of Martin's blunt fingers in his mouth. Oh. So that change seems to be permanent. He's not sure if he's changed his mind about other activities, but sucking on Martin's fingers seems like an excellent way to block out literally everything else that's happening.

Martin jerks his hand back, eyes wide. Jon can't move well enough to chase it. Damn.

"What did you do to him?" Far away, Martin's voice is cold, but not for him.

"What he was destined for." Annabelle reaches out towards Jon, and for a moment he imagines sucking her fingers, swallowing around them until he came, not even because he wants to do it but because that's just what he does now.

Martin catches her wrist in mid-air, stopping her.

Annabelle's voice is much less cheerful now. "Jonah only thinks the Archive was his idea. The Mother created him, and the Mother has a plan. She's going to destroy Magnus and his stupid tower, and restore equilibrium to this brave new world. Or rather," and she looks indulgently down at Jon, "her daughters will, after the Archive is done incubating them."

Martin lets her go. "So why even bother with me? Or did you just need me out of the way so you could - could take him?"

"The Archive needs tending," Annabelle says, "and the babies will need a teacher." She pauses. "If you're not interested, I'm sure the Mother has a few eggs left for you as well."

"Fine," Martin grinds out, after a long pause.

When Annabelle is gone, Martin kneels by Jon and tries to unbind him, picking as the silk that sheaths his arms and legs. Eventually, Jon finds the strength to say, "It won't work."

Martin freezes. "How do you know?"

"The Mother won't let me hurt them," Jon explains. "Or myself. So you might as well leave it."

The sound Martin makes is halfway between a sigh and a sob. "Does it hurt?" he asks, and very gingerly touches Jon's swollen belly.

"I wish it did," Jon sighs. He leans forward as best he can to press the taut, sensitive skin into Martin's touch, because it felt good and because that's what he does now. "I really wish it did."




Re: Fill 2/2: Mr. Spider but make it sexy (Jon/Web, noncon, bondage, oviposition)

(Anonymous) 2020-06-19 12:38 pm (UTC)(link)
Not OP but damn, this is tasty.

Re: Fill 2/2: Mr. Spider but make it sexy (Jon/Web, noncon, bondage, oviposition)

(Anonymous) 2020-06-19 01:42 pm (UTC)(link)
OP here and FUCK this is wonderful, spider biology and mindfuck too? You are too good to me <3

Re: Fill 2/2: Mr. Spider but make it sexy (Jon/Web, noncon, bondage, oviposition)

(Anonymous) 2020-06-20 10:36 am (UTC)(link)
Ohhh the way you convey the mind break element here is so well done (“what he does now”...) and the changes to Jon’s body being permanent is so hot