Thinking about Corruption Jon, he’s so lonely, let him be loved by something that will make him a home. Maybe not even bugs, I vote mushrooms, let them sprout inside him, a lovely garden. Spreading spores as he walks, wanting to share his children, they whisper to him. He’s so good to them, feeding them with himself, letting them spread.
Inspired by tags on my other post, Jon being filled with something that is so dependent on him. Suddenly he can’t keep up his lifestyle of absolute terrible self care, he’ll harm the little ones. They need to eat, if he wastes away so do they. Jon can be better for them.
Suddenly everyone comments that he looks better, healthier, not like walking bones, even as his insides are being consumed. He’s never looked better, he has rot growing inside him, he’s glowing, he can feel himself being eaten.
Jon spreading his children, because if it made him better shouldn’t everyone get to have this? He’s never lonely anymore.
At some point I really do need to write a werewolf joncon post because like. He was made to sprint terrified through the trees, to be knocked painfully to the ground, pulled up so he’s presenting his flat little ass to a huge, monstrous beast with fangs as long as his fingers. Made to have his clothes violently torn away so that he can be impaled by a huge monster cock that feels like its splitting him open. Needs to cum when it knots him, pumps him so full it looks like he’s several months pregnant already, flooded with seed to ensure a good breeding…
I think Elias should know Omega Jon is going to go into heat. Calling him up to his office for a ‘performance review,’ Jon having trouble concentrating he feels so warm. His subvocals start escaping him, just little chirps and whines, as Elias pretends not to notice droning on about Jon’s job performance.
Jon realizing he’s going into heat, but too mortified to say anything, he can keep control, as soon as Elias is finished Jon can get home. Jon quickly having trouble sitting still, Elias asking him if everything is all right, and Jon immediately snaps that he’s fine. Elias raises an eyebrow at him but resumes his lecture as Jon can feel himself getting wet.
His subvocals escaping him every so often, little whines for attention, but Jon is hoping Elias can’t hear them they’re pretty quiet, he lies to himself. Elias telling him he’ll be back in a moment, that he need to get something.
Jon taking that time to shove a hand down his pants, fingering himself. His other hand shoved in his mouth to muffle any sounds. He ignored the little chirps he’s also making that are calling for Elias. He’s so close only to have to immediately yank his hand back out as he hears Elias coming back down the hallway. Jon tries not to scream, though his subvocals are whining pretty loudly.
Elias asking again if he’s okay, just completely neutral, pretending he doesn’t know, also pretending he can’t smell Jon. Jon in denial, thinking he’s going good at hiding his condition. Still he decides to take the out, standing up only to realize he’s basically soaked through his clothes, even leaving a wet spot on the chair.
Elias stepping in front of him to block his way, and Jon getting hit with a wave of Elias’s scent, and immediately his legs go weak, and he sinks to his knees. Jon realizing he’s fully in heat as he loses control of his subvocals begging Elias to fuck him, to breed him that he’ll be so good.
Elias pretending to hesitate, muttering that he shouldn’t, it wouldn’t be appropriate. Jon can’t stop his subvocals now and his higher brain is firmly out of the drivers seat. Jon grabbing into the chair to pull himself up, presenting himself to Elias, whining that it’s fine he needs it please, he’s gonna die.
Elias telling him he’s being dramatic, but responding with his own subvocals, telling him he’s such a good slut, so desperate. Practically peeling Jon’s clothes off they’re so soaked, and shoving Jon’s face into the wet spot he left.
Jon obliges willing to do whatever Elias says at the moment as he keeps begging for Elias to mount him. Elias makes a comment about some hearing before thrusting into him, Jon isn’t ready and he yelps, raising his head, Elias pushing it back down against the seat of the chair, forcing him to continue as he fucks him.
Elias calling Jon up to his office when he’s back from his heat, making Jon feel the whole thing was his fault. It’s his heat after all, Jon should have known and gone home early, or just told Elias he wasn’t feeling good. Elias’s subvocals reprimanding him, reinforcing what Elias is saying.
Jon trying to argue back, but Elias just keeps repeating that he should know better. Jon eventually finding himself agreeing, his subvocals quiet and sad, he’s bad, so bad, and sorry. Jon ending up being the one apologizing for everything before going back to work.
“You don’t have to be a person anymore/right now” is one of the greatest things people can ever say to me ever. I will look up at you with such big beautiful doe eyes full of so much love and affection that you’re giving me the ability to shed that role 💕
Thinking vaguely about doing a series of loosely-connected monsterfucker Jon smutfics. And honestly I wanna include the TMA-flavor vampires.
Just. Imagining their long, warm, wet tongues sliding into Jon’s tight cunt. Rubbing against the walls, more than long enough to press against his cervix (maybe even breach it…). Just fucking in and out of him as he moans and whines and writhes in pleasure.
Maybe it even breeds him. Spits something thick and hot into his womb as he shudders and cums. Fertilizing him, filling him up with a new little vampire….
Look it’s just. Something about hundreds of very small creatures writhing inside someone touching every surface every little nerve burrowing deep inside and making a nice warm home out of their entrails is just. Very appealing to me. I think it’d feel very very. Interesting. For reasons. And i think Jon should be whimpering so loud as all these tiny creatures writhe inside him oh god there’s so many of them why does it feel so-
Anyways. How are yall doing tonight <- covered in blood
I’m sorry I dehumanized you and talked to you in that baby voice that owners use on their dogs. that wasn’t nice for you, was it? no? nooo, you didn’t like that did you? oh bubby I’m sorry I didn’t mean to belittle you and put you beneath me like you’re a dog. I’ll do better, okay?
Tim and Gerry both treating Jon like a little brother, but also like their fellow dog. Constantly teasing him, but treating him like the precious boy he is. Jon basically in a constant state of embarrassed arousal while he tries to pretend he’s the big dog here. He’s not he’s the runt, and both of them are gonna bully him like he deserves. He loves it, being treated like he’s dumb, like he needs to be babied because everything is so hard.
They roughhouse with him pinning him down and teasing him for how turned on he is getting bullied by his brothers. Both of them love turning him into a whining mess of overstimulation just teasing him for as long as it takes for him to beg.
They both adore Jon, and nobody else gets to be mean to him. Jon stretched across both their laps, just so content as he’s being told what a smart boy he is.
He has to be a person so much in life he likes when he just gets to be a puppy.
Gerry cooing what a smart boy his baby brother is but he doesn’t act like it <3 and he doesnt wanna be treated like it either <3 not when he’s all collared and dripping and losing a fight he knows he won’t win <333 Jon should whine so loud and shiver because they both know he’s right.
His baby brothers so so smart but if he acts dumb he’s gonna get treated like it <3 and that’s exactly what he wants <333 he needs his big brother to knock him down a few begs need to get broken in. He just likes throwing a fit about it. Does it make him feel all tough? Does it make him feel better ?? <333 jon is dripping and trying to bite him but can’t get out of his grip. He’s stuck. He’s stuck listening to gerry make fun of him and if he cums from this he will never live it down <3 whining so loud and flushed and he’s so humiliated he wants to wail and bite but <3 he can’t. He just has to sit there and listen.
More people should bully Jon until he cums from feeling so so little and cute and completely defenseless against his mean mean big brother and Gerry is making up for the fact he’s the first to do this <3 he is going to fuck that man until he whines at him to be NICE to him and he’ll coo over him and say well of course he can if he asks!! Don’t be silly!!
Tim and Gerry coddling Jon when he doesn’t feel well, maybe he’s just tired from being a workaholic, or just exhausted himself. Jon getting to be babied, they tease him but it’s so sweet and soft. Jon being fucked so gently between the two of them, just letting him go boneless and happy.
They both try to compete to see who can better take care of their little brother, but they’re careful not to let it affect that. Having a scuffle in the hall to bring Jon something he wants, but the minute he whines about not having anyone they both rush to his side.
Just Jon should get babied by his brothers, because he deserves it.
Jon wailing for his big brothers to be nice to him,,, so so close and they won't let him cum because he's acting all tough and better than them ,,, until he's sniffling and trembling like the cute little brat he is and just weeps and begs and can't handle it anymore <3 because he just needs his big brothers to take care of him no matter how tough he likes to act <33 just the mutt of the group who gets all confused. Ough. I'm normal
Jon would be losing his mind, but well that ship had sailed about twenty minutes of this torture ago. Okay maybe not torture, it felt good, but he needed to cum so badly and both of his brothers boyfriends seemed determined not to let him. Every time he tried to thrust his hips down, seeking that extra pressure he’d be caught, forced to remain still, holding back whimpers at the slow deliberate pace they had both contrived.
“You just have to ask nicely and we’ll let you come,” Gerry tweaked his nipple and Jon couldn’t hold back a yelp, both his tits were red and swollen, being used to drive him mad just as much as his cunt. He glared, though the look was rather ruined by the drool, dripping from his mouth and the glassy look in his eyes. Gerry grinned back at him, before lifting him up off Tim’s mouth, as the two switched places for what must be the fifth time, easily lifting him like he was a doll. It wasn’t fair, said one of Jon’s last fully coherent thoughts, as Gerry’s tongue flicked against his clit, another moan slipping out, he wasn’t allowed to have any breaks.
“Yeah buddy just say please, we won’t even make you apologize for pretending to be tough.” Tim’s grin was just as smug as Gerry’s his face wet from being buried between Jon’s thighs. Jon could feel the last remaining bits of his sanity snapping as Tim’s teeth worried at his neck, no doubt giving him a bruise that would be impossible to hide later.
“P-Please,” The tears that had gathered in the corners of his eyes finally burst their dam as Jon wailed. He kept repeating his words over and over, no longer able to form sentences that weren’t please and more. He was lifted again, only to be seated on Tim’s cock, the stretch wasn’t painful after almost an hour of defining but it was enough to have Jon squeak. Which of course had both of the other two laughing at just how cute he was.
“Go ahead baby come for us,” Gerry’s fingers squeezed his clit as Tim battered him from the inside. The twin sensations were too much and Jon went rigid, his whole body shaking as he came wailing as he buried his face against Gerry’s chest. They both stopped for a moment as Jon rode the aftershocks twitching between them, before going limp, panting as drool dripped down his chin.
Then almost as though they both could talk with just their eyes meeting over Jon’s shoulder, Tim resumed thrusting into him, while Gerry went back to groping his tits, squeezing them till Jon whined. He squirmed, overwhelmed as they pushed him from being under-stimulated too far too much.
“You said you’d stop,” His voice sounded wrecked as he managed to gasp out the words between thrusts. His words didn’t really match his actions as he clamped down each time he was lowered, cute little moans undercutting the complaint.
“No we said we’d let you come,” Tim sounded downright gleeful, as though he had just told the funniest joke. Another hard thrust and the attention Gerry was giving his clit had Jon cumming again, but this time neither paused for a moment. Gerry kissed him gently, a star contrast to what the two were otherwise doing.
“We didn’t say anything about stopping, did we? You haven’t said sorry yet after all. “ Gerry pulled away from his lips, the teasing smile back on his face, “I think you can handle a bit more if you’re so tough.”
Don’t think about Jon picking at the tiny holes in his skin imagining if the CO2 had gone off a few seconds later. Pressing his fingers deep thinking about them crawling inside, he’d never be alone again. The itching in his soul, as he thinks what of he had accepted it? What if he could have been a home to something that truly loved him.
Staring at the holes along his face, tracing them, remembering how it felt. Those small writhing bodies and their tiny little teeth and their song, that sweet sweet song that plagues him even now. Wondering what if they’d missed a worm or two. But no. Nothing writhes under his skin nothing burrows nothing feeds he is empty and he is alone in his flat and he is picking at that hole, that hole that has nothing coming out except blood. There’s something wrong in his brain but what if. What if nobody had gotten to that switch. What if that moment where he slumped was all they’d needed? There’d been so many of them still writhing towards him at rapid speeds when Elias pulled the switch. How easy could it have been for them to turn him into a nest. A home. If he’d let them. If he’d reached out and offered, like she had, like he can’t stop thinking about her doing, burying his hand in that wasp nest and feeling something so eager so excited to have someone to love and protect and feed off of and stay with forever and ever and adore begin to burrow into him. There is no nest. The worms are all dead. The worms are dead and gone and this is a good thing and he keeps walking through those dsmn tunnels and staring at them. Sitting down next to them and resisting the urge to touch but only barely. Only barely. It itches. It itches so horribly and he cannot shake the feeling that if they were in him they’d be alive they’d be alright and they’d be getting full and happy off of all his flesh and blood and be perfectly content and happily purring at him that he is a lovely host. When did he start scratching at those holes again? They’re so itchy. They’re so itchy he wants to scream and cry and would they love him, would they burrow inside so deep and find all his terrible flaws and think they were beautiful, eat them too? He scratches his arm all alone and he thinks of being a warm warm body for a hundred happy little creatures who love him very very much. Of laying down on the floor and accepting it. Of sighing softly and letting them begin to eat him, shuddering and shivering as more and more and more begin to squirm towards him.
Hes so itchy it hurts to breathe. He’s pushed everyone out. He’s alone. It itches. It burns. He wanders around aimlessly so so tired so lonely nobody WANTS him anymore and he doesn’t blame them and it itches. It itches so horribly he thinks he might break. He doesn’t know what will happen when he does. He keeps thinking he sees something crawling and squirming and going too quickly to check. There’s nothing there.
There is something trying to build a nest outside his flat. He hasn’t gotten around to call an exterminator. He’s tired. And he’s so, so itchy.
(If Tim and Martin and Sasha and Elias weren’t at risk. If it was just him. Would it have been so bad if nobody had been around? If he’d broken that wall all by himself and he’d gotten caught? Pinned down by a million warm, writhing creatures? Burrowing deep into his organs and feeding and feeding and feeding until they were satisfied? Would it have been so bad? He itches. He itches. God, he itches. He rereads Her statement over and over again and he still. Fucking. Itches. It’s so hard to think when he’s this itchy. It’s hard to sleep. It’s hard to eat. He just. Itches. All the time. Deep in his bones. Something is singing to him and the itch is so loud and he’s so alone. He’s all alone.
In a world where Jon was alone in the Archives when Jane attacked, overwhelmed and remade faster than anyone could stop it. Jane pulling Jon out of the writhing mass, his children settling inside his bones, and organs, nestling deep inside. Jane asking Jon if he hears their song and Jon answering with a quiet and breathless yes.
The two of them understanding each other, they both want to be loved, and with their children they won’t ever be alone.
In a world where Jon was alone in the Archives when Jane attacked, overwhelmed and remade faster than anyone could stop it. Jane pulling Jon out of the writhing mass, his children settling inside his bones, and organs, nestling deep inside. Jane asking Jon if he hears their song and Jon answering with a quiet and breathless yes.
The two of them understanding each other, they both want to be loved, and with their children they won’t ever be alone.
I just think it’d be hot if jon somehow found Jane first and she got to break him down before anyone even knew she was a threat <3 nobody checks on him. Nobody is coming to get him but he can hear them singing. They’re singing. How are they singing. He doesn’t understand. He doesn’t feel good.
UPDATE. TALKED TO THE MUTUAL WHO SHOWED ME THE NOTE PATREON THING. HE CALLS THE CORRUPTION ROMANTIC HE CALLS THE CORRUPTION ROMANTIC HE CALLS THE CORRUPTION ROMANTIC. LISTEN TO ME. LISYEN TO ME. CORRUPTION JON.
LISTEN TO ME. ALMLST SOUNDS ROMANTIC. ALMOST SOUNDS ROMANTIC. ALMOST SOUND ROMANTIC. I CAN BE CONSUMED BY WHAT LOVES ME AND HE THINKS IT SOUNDS ROMANTIC I NEED TO EXPLODE HE THINKS ITS ROMANTIC HE THINKS ITS ROMANTIC GUYS!!! GUYS!!!! HE LIKES ! HE LIKES THE CONCEPT OF BEING CONSUMED BY WHAT LOVES HIM CAN AMYBODY HEAR ME
ALMOST SOUNDS ROMANTIC. THIS IS ABOUT THE WOTMS THATVE BEEN TORMENTING THEM FOR MONTYS. IT SOUNDS ROMANTIC IT SOUNDS ROMANTIC CORRUPTION JON!!!
Elias watching jon get tempted by the corruption. Who is a child of neglect someone who has never felt truly wanted closeted aromantic believes he will never truly be wanted anywhere doesn’t know how to maintain relationships with anyone is so exhausted feels one step away from breaking any of his relationships at any time and just goes. You know what that makes sense. Time to keep him from sticking his hand in a wasp nest
Jon finding out he’s pregnant when Helen cuts him open, deeper than she has the few times before. She’s delicate with those sharp fingers as she coos at him. Giggles stroking the outside of his womb, it’s swollen just a bit, just enough to show he’s pregnant.
Jon whimpering starting to beg her not to hurt the baby, she just clicks her tongue asking what kind of monster does he think she is. Patting the outside of the organ and giving it a little kiss gently, before tucking it back into its proper location.
Maybe Elias got him pregnant prior to the unknowing(probably didn’t grow much while he was functionally dead), or he bred him while he was in his coma before he was taken to jail, or it was a stranger while he was helpless, or Helen herself.
Helen keeping an eye as it grows, maybe she takes photos, to send to Elias. Jon opened up like an anatomy doll, moaning and writhing as Helen chides him to keep still she’s trying to get the baby pictures right.
Hey, don’t think about Jane cradling Jon, he keeps whimpering that it hurts as the larvae consume him from the inside nestling in his organs, his bones, making their nest so deep inside. Jane whispering that she knows it hurts, it’s just growing pains, soon he will be so perfect. Filled with his own children once hers are done, a warm place for them to thrive. They will protect him, and love him, and even when it hurts it’s just because they love him too much, they have to crawl deeper.
Humming softly along with her brood, Jon’s whimpers getting quieter and quieter as the little ones burrow. Jane kissing his forehead telling him he’s doing so good, look at him, such a good home.
I hope u know I’ve been thinking about this nonstop. Ohhh my god. Don’t think about Jon clinging onto Jane for stability as these small, beautiful, loving things tear their way into him. Ruthlessly burrowing until he bleeds until the flesh gives so easily it’s like it was made for them. The thought soothes the terror a little, enough for him to press his face into the crook of her neck. Desperately reminding himself Jane was fine, that she recovered. Her arms are a balm even as more of her (beautiful, loving, kind) children claw their way into him to change and burrow and love him, and it hurts, it hurts, oh god- Jane whispering it’ll be worth it. They’ll love him like nobody else can. They’ll never hate him. Never be angry or disappointed. They will adore every inch and crevice of him, grow full and heavy off his insides, no blame in their tiny squirming bodies, just adoration for their loving home. Jon makes a soft sound at the thought. It sounds like a sob.
Jon breathing heavily once they’ve finally mostly settled. It hurts. It hurts, but. It doesn’t itch. Nothing itches. It’s strange. Has he ever not been so painfully itchy? Was it since before his parents died? Was that the last time he felt truly loved? The worms gently begin to nibble at his insides, happy and grateful. So so appreciative. They sing that he’s so kind, to offer his flesh and blood to feed them. So loving. They thank him and praise him and cheer amongst themselves at a good good meal, and a nice warm place to lay their eggs, with someone who needs them, who will take very good care of them, hm, he’s rather skinny, they will make sure he eats more. Exploring, so eager, even when it hurts him. So excited to find every new crevice this kind man has offered them. Burrow deep and comfortable and find somewhere nice to rest, sing to him and soothe him and make that awful itching finally go away, poor man. They will fix it. They will make their home so much better, they will gnaw at everything hurting him until he is warm and happy and well fed.
“They love me.” Jon breathes. He can’t wrap his head around it. How they can care so deeply so fast, but they sing and they celebrate and they burrow so deep and they trust him and they love him and they call him their home, and his body begins to shake with sobs. Jane holds him. Jane tells him they will love him forever, that they will love him so deeply it will be all they know, that his own children will need him as much as they need air and they will be so very grateful. They will adore him. He is a wonderful home. They will never forget how eagerly he offered his beautiful body to them. They will take care of him. They love him.
@anaceshornyblog in case tumblrs gonna be a bitch again. As u can see I’m normal and have never thought about this ever.
It is so so compelling to me to think about jon always being itchy for so long for most of his life…just thinking it’s a skin thing and then he reads Jane’s statement and experiences such deep self recognition through the other it almost gives him a mental breakdown the first time he reads it and suddenly. That itch that horrible unbearable itch doesn’t feel so much like an annoyance and more so “I can never let anyone find out about this.”
No no prev you’re absolutely right it IS very gender. That constant itch that bothers you you’re whole life. That feeling of emptiness deep rooted in your bones. That you think is normal. This is just how life is. And then you see someone else someone everyone points at and screams that they’re a freak, that nobody wants, that is awful and broken and Wrong. And then you feel such a horrible connection to them and see everything you’ve ever felt in them and you realize, oh. There’s something wrong with me. This isn’t how life feels for everyone else. There is something wrong. This isn’t how life is supposed to feel.
Smth smth that deep feeling of disconnect from the entire world some people get pre transition. Feeling like you don’t feel anything. You don’t care about anything. You can’t connect with anyone. You think you’re a horrible person. You crave connection and can never seem to have it with anyone. Not in the way you’re so desperate for. You cannot love anyone in the way you want to. You don’t know how to tell if you would. All you want is to care about someone and be cared about and you are disconnected from everything human and maybe you’re not human. So maybe these things that Aren’t human could love you. There is a wasps nest in some poor woman’s attic. Maybe it could soothe your itching soul.
I am once again thinking about Elias trying to hold jon back from falling into the corruption as it sings to him louder and louder….his grip on his archivist tightening. Trying to tie him to the eye more to Him more, trying to satisfy this desperate need to be loved in the way the corruption offers without driving him further into it….hmg jg hf
Jon trying not to fall into the corruption: What if elias raped me and bred me over and over again , forced my body to change to accommodate his claim on me, what if I was a home for a permanent mark of how much he loved me, something made up of both of us, what if he violated me and consumed me and I was helpless and so so wanted he needed to have a part of him inside me at all times. What if I got consumed by what loved me what if he ruined me.
Girl help. Now I’m thinking about Elias trying to keep jon from going full blown corruption. Trying to satisfy that Itch in other ways…I need it to be weird. I need Jon to be clinging onto Elias for dear life because he’s one of the few things grounding him. Jon trembling kneeling at Elias’ feet looking up at him with big sad eyes, trembling lips and so so cute…they should be so toxic. Which is fueling the corruption in a different way. It’s just changed to Elias being his wasp nest <3. Just. Jon begging for him to use him pleading he needs it he needs it so bad break him, break him , he needs it, he needs it please it hurts-
Jon attaching to Elias so hard after reading her statement because he’s crumbling and needs stability. He needs a cnc scene so bad. Yknow his rape fantasies where Elias wants him so bad it doesn’t matter what he wants? Those are even more intense when he’s feeling this low and I think. Cnc won’t fix it but he Is using it to try and keep himself calm. Losing himself in feeling like Elias needs him. Can’t help himself. Can’t resist his wonderful son, who’s just so perfect and good and how can he not bend him over his desk even when he cries no no no. When his pain is just so pretty. Losing himself in the idea of getting knocked up against his will, consumed by a constant mark of Elias’ need. Changed and claimed forever, helpless to do anything but watch as his body is molded by his fathers loving, cruel hands. I still think it’d be hot if Elias got him pregnant to fulfill that Need. To be a home. Be consumed by what loves him. And I think that scene could be so so good. I think Elias makes a comment about getting him pregnant and this part of him that is crawling and writhing sings.
I need. Jon teetering on the edge of corruption god I need a better word for that asking elias if he’s still human. Like I know that happens in canon but idk this has a different flavor. Or maybe. Am I a person. Just this exhausted terrified look on his face. Being a person is hard and confusing and scary and he can’t love right. He either does so obsessively or not at all and is this love? How would he know if he felt it? He’s clutching the scars from the worms. Maybe from the attack. Or maybe he almost got Got somehow. Maybe he almost succumbed. Is he still a person, if he almost doesn’t want to be? If he’s never known how to be one? If he doesn’t act like one? Has he ever been human?
I love corruption jon because we’re all just going “ok how obvious can we make it he’s a child of neglect” “how autistic can we make him” “hm maybe a dash of aro? Some transgender, for spice?”
Look if the spanking/paddling doesn’t have fauxcest and or ageplay undertones WHAT is the point. Elias should treat Jon like a misbehaving child. Treat him like he’s throwing a tantrum. Jon should whimper and sniffle into his chest and squirm because it hurt so bad but did he do good? Did he do it? He’s sorry, he’s so sorry, can he be better? Is he better? He can be a good boy. Elias should soothe him as he jumps at every bit of pain. I just. I am of the opinion that They
“Why do you insist on acting like a child Jon?” Jon stopped his rant immediately with an offended sound that he would deny to his grave sounded anything other than dignified. Elias’s expression was, if Jon had to pick something, almost disappointed. Jon didn’t feel vindicated though, or like he was winning this conversation. He tried to regain the threads of his complaints, but before he could resume Elias had stepped into his space, practically forcing him backward, bumping into his desk.
“I am not, I’m just-Elias!” Jon practically yelped as he was spun around by the other man. Finding himself now lying prone over his own desk, which luckily had been clear, save for a few statements. Trying to force himself up he met with no success Elias easily holding him down a hand planted on his back.
“You are Jon, I’ve tried so hard to help you, but you always insist on throwing a tantrum when the answers aren’t just handed to you.” Jon growled still trying to get free as Elias made no move to let him up, just held him there, like he wasn’t even trying. “So perhaps I should treat you like the child you insist on acting as.”
“What does that-?” Jon started only to be cut off as Elias stripped his lower half, almost in one smooth motion. Jon cursed his newfound habit of preferring loose clothing, it kept it from running at his scars, but it was also fairly easy to remove with one hand. Not that Jon would have considered that downside, not expecting to be stripped bare by his boss. “Elias stop it!”
“Hush Jon, now I admit this isn’t really in style anymore, mores the pity. I unfortunately do not have a paddle, I suppose my hand will have to do.” Jon’s struggles ceased for a moment, as his brain finally made the connection, feeling his face flush. No he could not be about to be spanked by Elias, he was an adult, this was-.
“A-ahh,” With a yelp Jon’s paralysis was broken as Elias had apparently taken his silence as him being ready. Bringing his hand down hard across his bare ass, the sound echoing in the quiet Archives. Part of him was happy that this was happening after everyone went home, or he really might have made a go at dying from embarrassment. As it was he was sure two parts of him were quite red, especially as Elias brought his hand down again, striking the same spot,
“I think ten total should be enough for the lesson to sink in.” Jon wanted to scream, Elias sounded like he was discussing his performance review, completely unbothered. He did scream at the third hit, pain lancing through him, he could already feel tears gathering in the corner of his eyes. He bit his lip, trying to muffle any further sound, he would not let Elias know just how much it was hurting.
“I wish I didn’t have to resort to such methods Jon, I don’t like to punish you.” Jon would have pointed out that he could just stop, if he truly didn’t want to do this, but something told Jon that the other man was only pretending to be regretful. The fourth and fifth hit were done in quick succession, giving Jon know time to brace himself. His head was starting to feel fuzzy, but he had managed to stay quiet, which he took as a win. Though considering he was still pinned to his desk, not much of one.
“That’s it, just five more, you’re doing very good Jon” Jon wanted to tell him to shut up, he could count just fine. At the same time he carefully shoved the little part of him that jumped at the praise into the box he shoved all inconvenient feelings in, this was not the time. “I can even reduce it by two if you tell me why you’re being punished.”
“What?” Jon squeaked forgetting his plan to stay silent at the audacity of the question. He was not about to entertain this farce by playing into it. His behavior was not the one currently crossing the line.
“Come now Jon you can’t already have forgotten.” Jon could practically see the smirk on Elias’s face. He shook his head, he wouldn’t be playing along, no matter how much he dreaded further punishment, he was right damnit.
“Fuck off,” Jon immediately regretted the words as Elias retaliated, the strike sharper than the other five, almost as though he knew precisely where would hurt the most. Unable to hold back a scream the tears he had been holding back flooding down his cheeks. He wanted to curl up, but he was still pinned, and his weak struggles were still useless.
“No need for such language, seems seven more it is then.” Jon tried to object, that had been six, but the cries fell on deaf ears, as the punishment resumed. Jon wailed through the next three, Elias only pausing between them to allow the pain to fade slightly before striking him again. He had stopped trying to stem his tears at this point, it hurt, it hurt so much, he just wanted it to stop, please.
“Please no more please,” Jon couldn’t keep from begging, the belief that he would take this with a stiff upper lip was thoroughly broken. Now he just wanted the pain to stop. His begging was unrewarded as Elias’s hand came down again, and Jon broke. Tears flowed freely as he wailed, he needed it to stop, god why did it hurt so much?
“Three more Jon, then it’s over,” Elias’s voice was far more gentle than it had any right to be, as though he wasn’t the one doing this. As though it was all Jon’s fault, Elias was just doing what he must. The part of Jon that could think logically vanished around the seventh hit, smacked right out of him. Jon tried to hold onto the feeling that it wasn’t his fault through the next two hits, but it slipped away. All he could focus on now was the pain, god he could have stopped it, if he had just admitted to Elias what he had done wrong.
“I’m sorry Elias please, I’m sorry I’m sorry I didn’t listen, please dad,” Jon whimpered and whined, bracing himself as he spoke but there were no more hits forthcoming. Instead he was hoisted up into Elias’s lap, the man having sat down in the chair they used for statement givers. It wasn’t the most comfortable, but Elias was careful to keep pressure off the worst of the bruises, though he knew sitting in his chair for the next few days would be excruciating.
“Well I suppose we can forget the last one,” Elias’s soft words were a bit out of sync with his hungry expression as he looked at his Jon, not that he could see, his face being buried against his chest. Jon nodded emphatically into the fabric, as his mumbled litany of please and apologies continued. He was sorry, it hurt so much, no more, he can be better, he can be good, please dad.
“Shh,” Elias rubbed his free hand over his back, the other bracing him in his lap. Jon could feel soft kisses being pressed to his hair, though his face was still hidden. His whimpered words slowly tapered off until he was silent clinging tightly to Elias. Every shift of his hips brought new pain, but Elias was so gentle each time he flinched, soothing him. In the morning he would look back at this and probably regret it, but for now he just leaned into the comfort the other man was offering. “See I knew you could be a good boy for me.”
The real problem with fan-media treating domming as synonymous with topping is that it obliges one to leave unexplored the rich comedy potential of depicting the object of one’s fandom attempting to dominantly suck a dick.
See, folks in the notes hear “the comedy potential of dominant dick-sucking” and immediately jump to “biting their dick”, when in practice it’s usually more along the lines of “trying to keep the dommy patter going with visible tears in your eyes because you’re struggling mightily not to let on that you just went down a trifle too aggressively and accidentally triggered your gag reflex, while your partner studiously pretends not to have noticed”.
I feel like if you’re reading this post as “questioning whether it’s possible to dominantly suck a dick” rather than “remarking on the many very funny ways it’s possible to fuck up attempting to dominantly suck a dick”, you’ve probably never sucked a dick.
Dominantly pretending like I didn’t just try to call them a good boy/girl, only to end up making some kind of Furby noise and splattering a waterfall of drool all down the front of my shirt because I’d badly underestimated how much saliva I was working up until a moment too late to save it.
“it’s so toxic.” Clearly, you’re an amateur freak. Do not come into my house and tell me how to arrange my fucked up furniture. I BUILT THIS LIVING ROOM BRICK BY TOXIC YAOI BRICK.
God sci fi au makes me insane. Jon telling elias "do you ever wish this could last forever?" Once, when hes tired and lonely and his memories of his life on earth are too loud. The knowledge he's going to fit in even less there. Just thinking about
Jon: Will you be alright, then?
Elias: Hm?
Jon: When we leave. Or maybe bored without people to torment.
Elias: Really Jon, you wound me.
Jon: Tough. Answer the question.
Elias: This is just how it is. I chose to be a machine. Humans have become something for me to watch, and ultimately move on from.
Jon: Hm.
Elias: What?
Jon: You're lonely.
Elias: What makes you say that?
Jon: Honestly, I'm surprised I didn't consider it sooner.
Jon: You'd probably be *less* lonely if you could stop killing us for ten minutes.
Elias: That's an exaggeration.
Jon: You're not denying it.
Just. Idk. I am thinking about Foreshadowing. And things that jon kicks himself for in retrospect. I like it when the horror comes from the fact jon knows exactly why elias did it.
Jon rewound the tape again, the same conversation playing on a loop, just the audio, Jon didn’t want to see himself through Elias’s eyes right now. He had found this recording while metaphorically stretching his new body. It turned out Jon could now access anything Elias had archived and saved, a little bright spot to being turned into whatever he was now. He had found a whole section of these conversations, little snippets of him and Elias. Rewind again, you’re lonely, what makes you say that, pause rewind again, he had memorized the words now, you’re not denying it.
Jon wanted to scream, well he had screamed, till even his new mechanical throat felt painful, screamed till his voice was gone, until he felt better, he didn’t feel better. Rewind, play, you’re lonely, Jon laughed practically foreshadowing, if such a thing applied to life. The laughing quickly morphed into sobs, though he still couldn’t cry, his breath hitched, and his shoulders shook but not a single tear fell.
Rewind, play, rewind, play, Jon couldn’t even throw the recording, it was in his mind, playing over and over. Worrying it like a loose tooth, as if listening to it would change anything. All it did was remind him how stupid, how blind he had been. Elias had shown him what he was time and time again, he wasn’t a kind benevolent ship, he was mean and selfish and cruel at times, Jon had just mistakenly thought he was an exception.
“Jon?” Jon didn’t respond, rewind, play, if he ignored the ship, rewind play, maybe Elias would get the hint. Of course Elias had never respected that before, he shouldn’t expect it now he supposed. He couldn’t even cover his ears, like the recording Elias’s voice was inside him. “Come on little one, don’t hide away where I can’t see.”
Rewind play, Jon knew he couldn’t hide forever, rewind play, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t delay, rewind Play. The worst part was he understood, he got it, of course he did. He knew Elias, as much as anyone could, he knew why, knew it down to his bones. Knew that Elias had thought of it as a gift, as Jon’s continued rejection as simply growing pains, a resistance to change that Jon would move past. Rewind play, and he would, Jon wanted to scream at that thought, but it was true, he would forgive Elias. They were a set now, he couldn’t leave, who knows what leaving the ship would do? He would be here for as long as Elias could keep him running in whatever form he would end up in.
Would Elias keep changing him? Some of him was still human, parts threaded through metal, would Elias take those too? Would they rot and be removed, those little ties to his former life, the few parts of him that were still human? With a deep sigh he closed the recording, knowing Elias wouldn’t let him hide much longer. Pushing himself to his feet the door sliding open, he pointedly ignored the little camera that was set outside the closet he’d been hiding in as it practically jumped to life focusing on him, the little red light bright and glowing.
“Jon-“
“No just, just stop,” Jon could hear the weariness in his voice, underlaid just slightly by static, damnit even his voice wasn’t really his. He grabbed his tools where he had left them, the little box at least was familiar. He felt so tired, but he could pretend, could play his part, and maybe that would be enough. “I have work to do.”
The way helen talks to Jon makes me a little insane. U know she talks to him like that when they fuck. Him currently struggling to heal around her sharp sharp hands and her going oh, that looks like it hurts. Let's get you all fixed up. Jon inhaling and shivering,,, covered in little injuries,,,, her talking to him in that same damn voice that gets to him more than he'll ever admit. I just think he should think about her whenever he's getting off by himself. And she should know about it. And maybe catch him red handed.
Jon was thinking about Helen. Thinking how her hands slid into his stomach, pressing down on parts that weren’t supposed to ever be accessible, except in case of grievous bodily injury. Well he supposed grievous bodily injury was subjective when your body seemed happy to knit back together no matter the damage. Thinking of her voice, how she teased him, even when she had flayed him apart across her carpets.
Of course those thoughts had him grinding against one hand without thought, his other tracing on of the spiral patterns developing on his stomach. His breathing was shallow, short breaths, not as shallow as it was when his lungs no longer resided in his chest, making him feel as though he was suffocating, even if he didn’t need to breathe.
His nails were nowhere near long enough to truly damage himself, only earning a few drops of blood as the wounds sealed immediately. Still the pain made him moan, pressing his fingers inside, hoping the memory would be enough.
“Helen, please more please,” Repeating her name as though that would help, his hand working faster, groaning as his orgasm still hovered tantalizingly out of reach. He kept his eyes closed, whimpering her name, he could imagine what she would say, chiding him for getting all worked up, how much of a monster he was to need to be hurt to cum. Lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice the door creaking open, well that’s not quite true, he just chalked it up to vivid imagination, it was only natural.
Helen, please, please, I need-ahh!” The scream was from equal parts surprise and pain as ten long knife-tipped fingers dug into his shoulders, yanking him out of his chair to pin him to the floor. His t-shirt that he had stripped down to was shredded easily, as was much of his skin, lying in tatters like the fabric.
“So sorry Jon, I would have popped in much sooner if I knew what fun you were having without me,” Jon whimpered as the she traced his sternum with one long sharp nail, her skin cutting through muscle, scraping the bone. This wound didn’t heal nearly as quickly his self-inflicted ones making him moan, it was excruciating, it was embarrassing, it was exhilarating.
“Oh that must hurt,” She ground her nail deeper, hooking just under the end of the bone, like she was going to leverage it up, pop his ribcage clean open, tearing through skin and muscle. He wondered if she could, what it would feel like, would it hurt more or less than cutting it free? Despite the pain in his arms he managed to get a hand back between his legs, it didn’t take much grinding against his clit to have him cumming. His hips bucked up driving the finger deeper, he Knew that she had just skewered his liver, and it probably said something about himself that if he hadn’t just came that might have done it.
“Greedy little thing, did I say you could do that?” Helen pursed her lips, as though in disappointment, her free hand cupping his chin. She lingered there for a moment, spreading his blood across his own lips, before sliding her hand to his throat. With what looked like no effort, and probably was, she lifted him by the throat. Jon instinctively struggled, whimpering, his legs kicking out, but it was like she was never where she had been a moment before.
“Such a bad boy,” She pulled him close her lips soft against his, the only soft thing about her right now, letting him wind his legs around her, letting him breathe. The reprieve was short lived, her free hand impaling him through his back, as she released his throat. It was bruised and bloody, healing enough so he could breathe, but not without pain. Though it was nothing compared to the nicer curling around his spine.
“Hmm do you really need this?” He could feel as scratched at the bone, likely leaving spirals etched into them. “I could just take it out you know, just for a bit.”
“P-please,” Jon whimpered against her, not sure if he was asking her to do it, pull his bones out. He’d heal, he Knew he would, but it would hurt, it would feel like he was dying. He wanted to experience, to Know exactly how it felt, but he was also terrified,
“Oh I suppose I can spoil you a bit.” Helen shifted him somehow, and Jon found himself now laying on his desk, prone his cheek pressed against a running tape recorder. He was certain he hadn’t turned that one on, but he supposed he should have expected it. These were some of his last coherent thoughts, until hours later when he would wake up curled in Helen’s lap, a fresh statement being waved beneath his nose, or if Helen was particularly benevolent, and actual statement giver. For now though he could only focus on Helen’s fingers curling around what the Eye informed him was his cervical spine.
“Now let’s see if I can get it all out in one piece.”
I think Elias should be a monsterfucker. Btw. Look humans are alright, but after a good few decades they start to get. Bland. I think Elias would love subbing for a huge, terrifying monster that could easily snap his neck but doesn’t, and I think he would ESPECIALLY love domming one. Bringing it to it’s knees. Exerting power and control over a deadly killing machine that could make all his worst fears come true if it weren’t so busy whimpering and pleading for more, harder, deeper. Anyway I think when he sees monster Jon he probably has a good handful of Emotions about it, but a solid chunk of those are “I need to get that thing pregnant NOW.” Just. Pure, unadulterated lust. He learns monster!Jon has a cock now (with BARBS. and a knot) and immediately decides that he needs that thing inside of him and as soon as possible. Thinks about Jon’s stomach swollen with his offspring, tits full and aching with milk, and gets so hard he almost passes out. As soon as monster!Jon spreads his legs Elias is there. And he is letting out 200 years of pent up monsterfucker horniness. (Look my man is terrified of death. Odds that he has felt safe enough to bed a monster more than maybe a teensy handful of times? Low. And now the opportunity to dominate and breed an incredibly powerful monster arrives?? He Is Going To Fuck That Monster.)
Elias should edge monster!Jon for hours I think. Has him tied up and squirming. Theoretically strong enough to break free but unable to think about anything but Elias’ mouth coaxing his cock out of it’s sheath. Licking up the sides, feeling the barbs under his tongue. He explores it slowly, languidly. Licks pre-cum away from the slit. Sucks the head fully into his mouth. Strokes teasingly over the knot. When he draws back he licks his lips. Idly wonders aloud if he’d be able to manage Jon knotting his mouth. And Jon can tell that the thought is affecting Elias (who is. Very into breathplay. And who has devoted quite a lot of time to the thought of having his mouth entirely occupied by a huge, throbbing knot). But that’s not what they’re here for today. He delights in bringing Jon right up to the edge again and again. Diving down to lick at his dripping cunt.
He doesn’t need to devote any time to fingering Jon open, but he does anyway, just to tease. Suckling on Jon’s cock again. Maybe this time, finally, he’s even feeling generous enough to let Jon cum. Cock pumping his seed down Elias’ throat. Knot engorged and expanded, even though there’s nothing to breed (aside from Jon himself of course (and Elias is already working on that…)). Naturally, Elias needs to devote another twenty or so minutes to it. Massaging it, licking it. Rubbing at it teasingly while Jon twitches and gasps. Tail lashing and wings trembling. The claws of his hind legs pressing Elias against his groin, digging in just enough to hurt. But he’s so desperate, so needy. Elias is the one who gets to set the pace here.
With Jon helpless and flat on his back, Elias can take advantage of that healing factor. Can peel this monster’s stomach open. Lick and tonguefuck his wound. Perhaps even sink his cock inside while it struggles to heal itself, just for a moment. Just to tease. He can run his hands so gently over Jon’s internal organs, the heft and feel of them, all the new strange shapes they’ve morphed into. Perhaps he even fondles Jon’s (currently) empty womb. Promises to fill it, make Jon all nice and round with his offspring. He finds Jon’s bladder too. Huge and full. Presses down on it until Jon shudders and wets himself with a cry, urine flooding the ground beneath him. Jon’s trembling and whining so prettily for him. Cock hard again and aching for touch. Writhing against his restraints. Elias moves on from Jon’s insides to focus on Jon’s breasts. Suckling and pinching his nipples. Wondering aloud what it will be like when they swell with milk.
Finally, he moves back down to Jon’s cunt. Jon’s begging for it now. Pleading for Elias to please fuck him, to put a baby in him. Presenting his needy, clenching hole. And who is Elias, to deny such a beautiful creature what it needs so very badly? He fishes his cock from his pants to push deep inside. Shuddering as he feels Jon’s rippling walls clench around him. He’s so hard by now, needs to focus very hard on not cumming immediately. Finally, he begins to move, fucking hard and deep into Jon while he cries out in pleasure, wings fluttering, fangs glinting every time he opens his mouth to cry out. Elias wanted to make things last a bit longer, but he’s so, so close already. Reaching down to play with Jon’s cock as he continues to thrust. And when Jon cums again, cunt clenching down and milking his cock, Elias can’t do anything but bury himself to the hilt and breed his pet monster.
MONSTER JON. IN HEAT. MONSTER JON IN HEAT. MONSTERFUCKED ELIAS WHEN MONSTER!JON GOES INTO H E A T!!!!
