The State of Powerpuff Girls in 2026 - Written by a Human
Here's the fact of the matter, the fandom is the only thing keeping Powerpuff Girls "alive" at this point and that's just fine.
The last time we saw the Powerpuff Girls in any official capacity was the Jellystone Crossover, Crisis on Infinite Mirths. There's supposedly a powerpuff girl project Craig has wanted to do for years, but we know little about and who even knows if CN is still letting him do that. Dynamite Comics is doing... something? Does anyone even read those comics? The only time I ever hear about them is when they've done something stupid with the girls or when the comic art is off model.
Despite all of that, companies across the pond still pump out merch of the girls. Is it the 1998 cartoon? Is it the 2016 cartoon? Who knows! Who cares? The girls sell, that's all companies really care about.
The truth is, as a series with no stable series at the moment, the heart of the girls lies with the fandom. As is the case with cancelled, dead, or series trapped in limbo
Does this fandom have creeps? Yes it does, every fandom does. This isn't new. People have always made sketchy as fuck fanart with the girls. We simply don't engage with that or let people like that into our circles. It's that easy.
For everyone else, fanart, fanfiction, comics, and videos help keep the spirit of the girls alive.
In the 2020s, a popular theme explored with the Powerpuff Girls is looking into their future, either as teenagers or young women. Likely brought upon by the horror show that was CW's attempt at a gritty show about the girls.
Yet this could also be attributed to the original demographic, children of the 90s and early 2000s, being all grown up. It's not unusual for a fan to imagine where the Powerpuff Girls might be, how they would react in their shoes. What happened to the villains and their friends? Would the girls start families? Would they take the time to explore themselves individually? A Powerpuff Girls future is one that's full of potential for creatives to explore.
There's also the fans who take aspects from the Powerpuff Girls that were weaker and explores alternative takes with them. Most commonly we see this in taking Bliss from the 2016 and re-adapting her to be a better fit with the trio. Others will take villains, episodes, and concepts and re-write them, give their own take on the 2016 show and make it their own.
If there's anything to be said about Powerpuff Girl fans, they can always manage to find a silver lining even in the murkiest of downpours.
For others like myself, you're never too old to create OCs and wonder how they would navigate the world. Maybe someone wants to have their own Powerpuff or Rowdyruff type team. Maybe someone wants to yumeship with their favorite villain or the Professor. Maybe someone wants to add a character to expand on a pre-existing one's lore.
And what's wrong with that? Absolutely nothing! Original Characters give fans the freedom to explore things they otherwise wouldn't with the base cast and there's nothing wrong with that. If anything, it shows how much they love a series that they want to make a character for it, or perhaps see themselves inside of it. It's the mark of quality, regardless of the quality of the OC.
All that being said, it's true that Powerpuff Girls as a series has gone rather dormant. Though perhaps it's not a bad thing. Popular things breed intolerable fandoms, and while the Powerpuff Girls fandom is no angel it certainly could be a LOT worse. As it stands, it's the fans who are keeping Powerpuff Girls alive through the 2020s through their own creative means.
Whether it's older fans feeling a little nostalgic, or younger fans discovering the series for the first time. Nobody can deny that a series so unique as it is charming has a little something for everyone, and that makes a series worth honoring with continued fan-made content.
Summary: Cato gets hit with a sex pollen, but he doesn't realize it. Neither does his serf until it's a little bit too late.
TW: Power Imbalance, dub-con
Note: This thing took me for friggin' ever! It's probably OOC and I'm sorry. Hopefully it's still enjoyable. I'm ngl, I'm also really not used to tagging other people cause no one really asks for me to tag them but uh... yeah. *dumps fic and runs away*
How was he supposed to focus on anything when someone was keeping the heat turned up to the maximum? Cato was glad that he'd gotten out of his armor earlier and changed into a looser set of formal robes, but even the normally light linen felt like it was clinging to him. A look down at his chest showed that it, indeed, was clinging from the sweat that was pouring off of him. A sneer curled his lip and he abruptly turned around to head towards his room and the private showers that were there. It was small but it would be efficient enough to get the sweat off him so he could change into something clean and get a message sent to see about turning the heat down. There had to be something wrong with the engines if the whole of the ship was being blasted with this infernal humidity.
He felt like he was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and the sensation made him want to crawl out of his skin. It was one thing to work up a sweat while in the middle of a fight, but to have to deal with it off duty was another entirely. He typed in the code for his room perhaps a bit too forcefully and was greeted with his room being slightly cooler than the rest of the ship. He liked to keep his quarters a few degrees cooler so that was no surprise, but he had hoped that he'd feel more of a difference than just that. The heat must truly be rushing all throughout the system of Macragge's Honour if it was getting into the private rooms as well. He could only imagine how bad it was down in the barracks or the serfs quarters where people were more packed in.
Briefly, his mind lingered on the thoughts of the serfs quarters. He'd glimpsed them briefly before, it was only natural to head that way when one wanted to select a personal serf. As much as he had originally balked at the idea of a personal serf, it was an unfortunate necessity with the additional workload that he'd needed to take with his commendations. So he went down to the quarters, needing to see what they were like when they thought that they weren't being observed, to ensure that they had the grace and dignity required to serve him properly. The rooms were larger, but only because the serfs were packed in close. Separated by gender, when he'd glanced at the rooms themselves he'd seen a definitely distinction between the mens and women's rooms. They were both clean, of course, nothing else would be tolerated.
But the women's rooms had a section that was dedicated to physical upkeep that wasn't in the men's quarters. Not for ablutions, but simply so they could do one another's hair before going out on duty. It was fascinating to watch lithe fingers toying with tresses, separating sections and braiding parts before looping them upwards or around buns to keep the hair out of the way. It was necessary to keep it out of the way, naturally, but the way that the hair was style was varied from woman to woman.
He'd also had the distinct impression that his prescence hadn't been welcomed and he'd been politely requested to leave before he could watch too much of the pagentry.
It was… fascinating. So of course, he had requested a female serf to tend to him.
You were interchangable with many other serfs in the aspect of your diligence. Surely there were plenty of others who could do just the same tasks and with just the same amount of skill. But he was fascinated with you because of how you held yourself at all times.
Walking into his shower room, he tapped the button that would request you to come and attend him. He needed his dirty robes taken down to be laundered and he wanted you to talk to the mechanicus in charge of temperature to make sure that this blasted heat was turned down.
Normally he'd at least fold his robes before putting them in the laundry basket, but the fabric just came down with a wet sound as it hit the floor and he groaned, turning on the shower at high blast. Much as he wanted to have something ice cold, he knew that hot would better to get the sweat off and he stepped under the spray. The small space of the shower made the heat feel all the closer and he turned his back to the shower head, resting his forearms on the tile in front of him, giving himself a moment to enjoy the slick sensation riding across his back and trickling down his sides. He wasn't normally given to indulgences and he blinked at the tiles, leaning back into the heavy pounding of water against him.
The door of the shower room opened a fraction, a quiet knocking preceeding that let him know just who had stepped into his quarters. He could hear your voice but not the words being said, his heart pounding quicker than before. Licking his lips, he snapped out a hand to catch the shower curtain, shoving it open and looking down at you.
Your eyes were wide as you looked up at him, surprised that he'd finished up so quickly. Your eyes lingered briefly on his thick thighs and up to his waist before darting to meet his gaze. You had heard the shower running when you'd stepped into his quarters and grabbed towels for him since he often tended to just step out nude and drip on the floor. Which was his right to do since it was his room, but it was annoying for you because you had to clean it up.
Still, despite all the times seeing him strutting around nude you weren't sure if you'd ever get used to the sight of him. All of the marines were built like brick walls. All the better to be the protection that the Emperor gave to Mankind of course. And there was definitely no reason for him to be ashamed when he looked like that. You supposed that if you were built like some of those noble women back on Macragge, you'd flaunt yourself too.
Trying to subdue the blush in your cheeks, you scooped up his dirty robes and tossed them in the laundry, turning around as you settled the basket on your hip and started out of the room.
"If you're finished, I'll grab you something clean to wear." You managed to get out before large hands grabbed you by the waist and shoulder, yanking you backwards.
The clothes went spilling across the floor and you couldn't help but stare at them for a moment, confused. You could feel a 'brick wall' at your back and insistent fingers kept you from moving away, going so far as to lift you off the ground so you didn't have any purchase to jerk away from him. Your heart pounded as he pressed his face to the nape of your neck and there was a soft shudder from him.
"You're cold." He spoke the words like it perplexed him.
Settling one hand on the one that was wrapped almost all the way around your waist, you could see why he thought so. Sicarius was burning up. Trying to pull away only ensured that his grip tightened that much more and he made a quiet whining noise that didn't match the mass of him. His nose nudged along your neck and up to your ear and you tried to lean away slightly. It was a silly thought but you didn't want to offend him with the scent of your perfume. But when he inhaled there, his fingers gently squeezed your waist and his lips parted against your neck, his breath hot on your skin and tongue sliding upwards.
"How are you so cool?" He huffed, his mouth moving against your neck and muffling his words slightly.
"I dont think I am, I think you're running hot." You fumbled out the words as his hands massaged your side and arm. He was insistent on keeping you as close as he could and you could feel the way he swelled and pressed against your lower back.
"No, it's you. It's all you." He groans out the words.
The depth of his voice combined with his lips leaving sparce kisses on your neck made your breasts feel heavier, your nipples tightened under the thin robes you wore. You didn't know what had gotten into him to make him so forward and you hated to think it had something to do with how hot he was running.
"M'Lord." Your voice was raspy as he started to suck near your collarbone, starting to rub against your back for relief. "I think you might have a virus."
"I'm fine." It wasn't the usual stubbornness you had gotten used to with the Knight Champion. It sounded almost petulant.
"You really need to talk to the Medicae."
"All I need is you."-There- was the stubbornness you were used to. Along with his broad hand spanning across your waist and sliding down.
Two fingers eased down to the apex of your thighs, his body leaning slightly so he could better ensure you didn't slip away from him as he changed his grip so he was cupping your sex and flexing his fingers. Curling them almost casually when he finally pulled his mouth away from your neck with a wet pop.
"I need you." He said it like it was something that was just now occurring to him.
His fingers were still flexing and pressing against your sex and your hand was overtop of his, trying to pull his hand away as you did your best to catch your breath. You had never expected the Knight Champion to make a pass at you, especially not so desperately. He was making soft noises at the back of his throat as he tried to separate the layers of your robe so he could reach your skin. Pressing down with your hand, your breath hitched as his finger managed to catch inside your robes where the clasps left a small openin and he groaned when he felt the inside of your thigh.
"Sir." Your head dropped down, in surprise, in excitment as he fumbled to pull at the clasps.
One of the metal pieces yanking off the fabric and falling to the floor with a quiet clinking sound before he stuffed his finger in and pressed his finger along your thigh. The fabric of your robes bunching as he moved up and rubbed across your sex again, breath quick against your neck.
You could feel him rutting against your back again and you blushed at the thought that he might spill across your robes and leave you with a stain that everyone would see.
That was about all that gave you the energy to slap his wrist and hiss at him, hoping that the small smart would snap him away from his eager push and pull against you.
"Sir! Put me down." You hoped that when he did your legs would be able to hold your weight.
Rather than setting you down right away, however, he started to walk over to his bed. The thing was as massive as he was. Plain, because he didn't believe in embellishments that weren't given to him in duty, it was simply huge and had moderate comfort to it. He set you down on the bed and you weren't sure if he meant to set you closer to the middle or if he simply forgot that you were so much smaller and it meant you'd have to crawl to get off of it.
His hands rested on either side of you and Cato looked down at you, his brow furrowed and hands reaching to undo your robes. Or more likely to rip the buttons and clasps apart if he was going to go at it like he had before. You grabbed his hands in your smaller ones, your heart squeezing as he used your busied hands to ensure he could lean in properly and kiss you.
It was awkward. Like he didn't have any practice with baselines, which you assumed was the truth. He was so much bigger that when his tongue thrust out to catch yours, it felt more like a wide slap of a warm wet piece of meat pushing against your lips.
His skin was hot to the touch and when you wormed one hand out of his grip to press against his chest, you stopped, realizing that all the wetness on his body seemed to have vanished.
"Sir, you need to see the medicae." You tried again to insist.
He grumbled then, an unhappy scowl as he pressed his face to your neck and pulled at the clasps on your robes.
"Sir, if you rip my robes, how am I supposed to go back to the serfs quarters afterwards?"
"Leave?" He said the word like it was offensive, pulled his head up to frown at the sheer idea that you might have to go away. "No, you're staying."
It was a ridiculous notion, of course. You couldn't just stay in his quarters, and you had half a mind to tell him so. But he was looming over you and he was touching again, attempting to kiss in that awkward way that you weren't sure how to respond to. His lips pressed against yours and you slid your hand up to his neck, pressing to try to push him back as you twisted your head again.
"Do you even know what you're doing?"
That seemed to give him a moment of pause and he breathed, looking down at you and blinking. His head dropped down to rest on the bed beside your own and you had to resist the urge to pet his hair and give him some sort of comfort. He was acting so far outside his norm, at least as far as you knew. He'd never had a personal serf before. Did he think that this was one reason why you were here? Was this why he had come down to the serfs quarters originally to pick someone out? Your heart sped up and you turned your head to look at him, seeing his eyes squeezed shut.
"Talk to me." You moved back a bit and weren't surprised at all when his hands automatically reached out to grasp you and pull you back.
"It's so hot." he said slowly. "And your skin is cool. You're soft and I just.. need."
"You need to ask." You frowned, your heart rate speeding up.
He looked at you stupidly and for a moment you weren't sure if he was going to be offended at the sheer idea of it or just be angry that you'd suggest that he wasn't eventually going to ask.
"Ask… for what?"
You blinked once and then again, staring at him. Cato looked flumoxed, like a child caught with his hands somewhere they shouldn't be. Which.. wasn't an inappropriate assessment given where he had been grabbing at earlier.
"You want to touch me?"
You wanted to laugh at the way he nodded, but the look in his eyes was more intense now and you could see his muscles bunching in preparation for a pounce. A hard feat considering he was already on top of you. Looking down between the length of your bodies, you tensed, seeing the hard thick length that bobbed between his thighs.
"And you want to kiss me?"
"Yes." His voice was thick and he pushed down, hands finding your sides and pressing in on you slightly, his thumbs sweeping along your ribs and then pausing as he pulls up again.
Laid out under him, you let him explore for a moment longer, enjoying that he was being softer now and slower.
"You're supposed to ask before you touch." You remind him quietly.
"Why…?" He murmured the word, his gaze hazy as he kissed you, fingers finding the clasps of your robe and fumbling them open.
You froze up as he pushed the fabric aside and started to inch back on the bed, just for him to follow you and start to press his weight down against you.
"You're mine, and I need you." He kissed your neck once more.
Your breath came a bit faster as you pushed him back and he started to move his lips from your neck to your clavicle and then down the valley of your breasts. The bra you were wearing wasn't one of your best ones, but you still didn't want it ruined if he decided to rip it and you settled your hands over his as he tugged one cup down low enough that he could capture your nipple and toy with it with his tongue and teeth. Each suckle and lick had you throbbing and your thighs pressed together as he enjoyed teasing your breasts. You had never been very sensitive there, but it had been a long while since someone had played with them. And his hands weren't entirely gentle, tugging and pulling at your body, his head shifting to spread his attention between both breasts and ensure your nipples were wet against the cooler air.
You were sure that you were supposed to be telling him no. His touching was inappropriate for a Knight to his serf and this could be seen as some sort of attempt to curry favors with the Astartes. It certainly wouldn't be the first time that a serf had gone on their back for an Astartes, even among the Ultramarines. But it was looked down on and you needed to keep your head about you. You didn't think that you would have had this problem with Cato because he'd previously seemed oblivious to you and that hadn't bothered you at all.
But now his length was pressing against your inner thigh and he was rubbing up, pressing the blunt head of his cock to your panties as he feverishly touched you.
"Wait, wait wait." You patted his chest, whining as he pulled up and didnt release your nipple until what felt like the last moment. The wet sound of his mouth coming away making your pussy clench. "The uh… the Codex Astartes. Isn't there a rule against fraternizing?"
"No." He mumbled as he kissed his way down your belly next.
"Well then remind me what it does say about how serfs and Astartes are supposed to behave around each other?" You curled your fingers in his hair.
"No." He murmured against the fabric of your underthings before peeling them down and shoving them out of the way where he'd tossed your robes.
His hands were almost too warm as he pulled your thighs apart and upwards, settling himself between them and kissing the inside of your thigh before licking and sucking the sensitive skin that was close to your groin. Your fingers were still laced in his hair but you weren't pulling him away anymore. Your nails scrapped through his short hair and tugged upwards when he found your clit. His thick fingers parting your lips and sliding up and down the seam of your cunt before pressing one in.
"You feel so cool in here." He licked his lips, the motion sliding across your clit and making you jolt.
"No, you're running hot." You manage to gasp as he slowly eases his finger in and out at a surprisingly gentle pace. Your hips rock slowly with him, all thoughts of trying to talk him down from this flown out of your head as just his finger is filling you up more than you were used to.
It was hard to get real privacy in the serfs quarters. The closest you might get was in the showers at times, and even though there was just a curtain and a simple wall that didn't reach all the way to the floor. You couldn't think of the last time you'd been able to just lay back and rub one out. Your eyes rolled back as he insistently prodded and pumped inside you, only occasionally touching your clit to make you whine. For a man that didn't seem to know what he was doing, he learned quickly.
"Make sure it's wet or it'll hurt to put it in." You gasped when he tried to nudge in another finger dry.
You could feel the hesitation and then there was a slurping sound when he pulled his hand away. Looking down, you saw that he was sucking his fingers with a stern expression on his face. His gaze flicked up to yours as he slid two in this time, wetter than before and fulfilling in a way that had your jaw dropping. Your breath came quick as he shifted his hand and curled his fingers, pushing upwards. Wincing, your hand came down to push his wrist away and you whimpered as you shook your head.
"How do I do this?"
"Not so hard." You couldn't help the blush and bit your lip as he eased his fingers in slow once more. "There. Just like that, can you do that with your fingers again? How you curled—"
His movements were quick in response to your question and you gripped his wrist, this time to hold him still as your back arched. Your jaw dropped and he came closer to kiss your thigh and lick his way towards your apex again, getting you wetter and making you groan as the sound of the slickness became more obvious. His lips hovered close to your clit, the tip of his tongue nudging it and stroking it softly at first to see how you reacted. Little groans and grinding upward made him smirk, you could practically feel it against your pelvis.
"Be careful, that's sensitive." You whined softly when he nudged it a few more times, making your hips rock with him.
He grunted quietly before bringing his lips higher up and kissing your belly instead. It was almost a relief not to have him focus so much there, knowing how quickly you'd end up coming if he kept that up. His fingers were still deep inside you and you were getting used to the slow pace. Your hands shifting up to his biceps and squeezing, feeling curiously for the ports where his armor was held to him. With a wiggle you got a hand under you and fidgeted with the closure of your bra, unclipping it and sending it off to the side so the tightness wouldn't pull at your chest or get in the way.
The motion grabbed his attention and his head snapped up, reminding you again of the predator that he was. Your heart beat slammed in your chest and he grunted, shifting up and pulling his fingers out of you so he could grasp your chest. Your breasts were already warm and slightly damp from where he had been sucking on them earlier and you ran your fingers in his hair as he hungrily kissed your skin.
"I don't know what's so interesting about my tits." You murmured, only to moan when Cato pulled on one nipple and twisted it lightly, pinching it softly and rubbing his thumb back and forth across the nub like he was eager to see if milk would come out.
"Like how you sound when I do this." He grunted and continued the somewhat soft kisses.
You had mostly kept your hands in his hair up until now, occasionally touching muscle or guiding his hand when he was too fast. Looking down between you, at the length that stood so impossibly tall between his thighs, you reached down and brushed your fingers across the head.
His reaction was instant, his hips snapping forward and hand gripping harder. Yelping in pain, you grit your teeth, looking up at him. Cato looked lost for a moment and then worried as he stared at your poor abused breast. He kissed it softly, apologetically, something you'd never expected from him. His tongue stroked the soft flesh and you pushed him up with one hand to make sure he didn't accidentally hurt you as you guided your palm across his cock.
His thighs were shaking as he pushed his weight down into your grip, hips pumping a slow rhythm with you. Looking up at him, you saw that his jaw had dropped and his eyes rolled back. Your hand shifted a bit to hold him firmly, fingers flexing in a delicate wave that worked him from base upwards in a slow stroke and he grit his teeth, his breath coming fast.
"Yes, yes, that's what I need." He gasped then and you froze up as he turned his gaze on you.
His eyes darted from your breasts to your mouth and then low to your cunt and you felt yourself clenching up in response. Nervous or excited, you weren't quite sure which was stronger as he rocked his hips and pushed his cock close to your sex. He wasn't even using his hand to guide it in, just doing his best to hold himself still above you and nudge it a little at a time. He licked his lips and groaned as your fingers squeezed his cock.
"Let go." He ordered, one hand coming down to grip your thigh, holding it up and holding you open.
"Sir—"
"Let go." His voice was more like a growl this time and you froze up, fingers shaking as you did as you were told.
His jaw trembled a bit as he continued to nudge inwards a little at a time. The fat head of his cock pushing up across your cunt and finding the wetness he'd created when he fingered you. You could see that acknowledgement in his eyes as the tip pressed in a little at a time. He made you wet, he made you like this and you were his. You weren't sure at first when he adjusted how he sat and started the slow press, your brow furrowed as you looked up at him. He was a giant, felt like a monster inside you. Like a meteor come to life.
And like a meteor, you felt yourself being pulled along as he descended, his hips moving automatically and teeth gritting as he pumped in and made himself at home inside you. The stretch was more than you were ever used to, more than you could handle and you held onto his arms as he continued to shove himself in with small measured pumps. He held onto you with one hand on your hip and one on your thigh and looked down on you, his breath coming faster.
"Do you need to be wetter?" He questioned.
"Uh… uh huh." You nodded quickly and whimpered when he pulled out, leaving you open and empty.
You could see his hand shaking as he spit into it. Quick slick that gathered in his palm and he hurriedly slathered on himself. He looked like he wanted to rush back right away but hesitated, adding more spit before yanking you in closer and bending himself over you as he pushed in.
You couldn't help but groan, then whimper as he continued to stretch you and your leg shook, curling around his waist when he was close enough. You could hear a soft curse coming from him and his weight came down, arm braced on one side of you while the other stayed on your thigh so he could move you how he needed. He was fucking into you at a pace that was too slow for him and it showed in how he panted and bared his teeth, impatient for you to loosen up around his cock. His weight came down in each slow, steady thrust and he rested his head against the mattress next to yours. His breath quick in your ear and his voice low as he tried to get as close to you as both your bodies could allow.
There was a soft whine in the back of his throat and you reached up to feel along the steel like strength of his shoulders. Felt the minute twitch of muscles when he shifted his weight to make sure he wasn't putting all his weight on you, but you could still feel yourself coming apart at the seams, pushed to your limits and thighs burning to hold him. A flurry of panic clenched in your gut when he started to murmur the word 'mine' to you, quiet grunts that got louder the more he continued. A panic that receded when you looked up at him and saw his jaw dropped down and eyes rolled back.
The bed was more than big enough for you both, but he was curled tightly close to you, his thrusts a bit awkward as he tried to simply get in deep without thinking more of it. He was like an animal, rutting and whining, begging under his breath and demanding for more when he managed to get his knees under him to make the thrusts longer and firmer. You could already feel the bruises starting and groaned, digging your nails into his shoulders and moving with him slowly, your body protesting the movements at first.
"Slow.. down." You hissed, rather surprised when he did so, his eyes turning to you even as he continued the less harried pace. Feeling the more subdued drag of his cock inside you, your head fell back and you sighed, nodding. "Like that. I'm not going anywhere."
You felt him move inside of you, gasping as he adjusted so he could put both hands on the mattress now, pushing down with each thrust at first until you winced and he adjusted the angle. His fingers gripped the sheets and pulled, and you could hear the popping of seams. Drawing your hands up from his shoulders to his neck, you pulled yourself up and kissed him, somewhat awkward as you tried to show him how to restrain himself and he kept overwhelming you. His voice was a tumble of rocks, a low build up of sound that reverberated in your chest and worked down into your stomach from how close you were. Each curl of his hips making you arch off the bed and your hips ached, he kept kissing you like he couldn't get enough. This close to him you could see his lip curl as he sped up little by little and you hung onto him, your body almost bouncing off the bed from the force he was putting into it.
Each beat of your heart made you rise a little closer to him, the pleasure pushing away the sensation of it being too much and your cunt squeezing down on him eagerly. The first notes of need in you being answered by his own heated harmony and he buried his face against your neck, snarling your name as he struggled to move a hand down and grab you by the waist, yanking you into each thrust. You could feel the ripple of the head of his cock moving deeper inside you and whined as he came closer, your soft curves rocking against his hard muscles, the sweat on his body barely there for a moment before dissipating in his own heat. He huffed as he rushed his hips forward, his voice a jagged sound of need that might have been your name.
You hissed as he rocked forward firmly, you could practically feel his length moving from the base to the tip when he released inside you. The heat warming you from the inside, your belly starting to swell from the sheer amount he'd loosed inside you. Looking down, your eyes widened and he groaned, his movements slowing slightly. But his hips didn't stop rocking, like he was still trying to chase that high and he still had energy to burn. A gasp pulled from you as he licked your shoulder and up your neck. Astartes had so much energy and you had no idea just what their sex drive was like. Or at least you didn't before tonight.
Taking his hand, you led it down between your thighs, looking up at him as you guided his thumb to your clit and showed him how much pressure to use, wincing when it was too much and whispering for him to pull back. Cato licked his lips, sitting back so your hips were raised up in his lap as he continued his slow movements. His eyes dark as he watched you in fascination. His thumb moving with a gentle precision that slowed down almost too soon. You looked up and tried to see just where he was staring at you, following the line of his eyes to the bruises that were forming on your hips where he'd grabbed you earlier.
"You can't use too much pressure." You whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek, feeling him lean down into you to accept the softness. "You can do it. You're the best, right?"
Nervousness flickered in your chest when he bared his teeth, but it was only a wicked smile he gave you. He kissed from your lips up to your forehead, his thumb brushing softly, like he was strumming a harp and you were giving him the most beautiful sounds. Between his hushed huffing and your quiet moans was the wet sound of his cock stretching you wide open and you kept your hand over his, squeezing occasionally as your hips twitched upwards involuntarily. Your vision filled with him as he looked down at you in satisfaction and a need to learn every part of you, pulling you to a lazy peak and kissing you as your cunt squeezed him.
"Are you still hot?" You groaned, unable to tell the difference between the heat in both of your bodies.
"Not as much. It's better now." Cato grumbled, slowly grinding his hips against you.
"Promise you'll see the medicae after?"
"When I'm done." He shook his head, his eyes dark, his fingers clever and light against your skin.
Chapters: 13/?
Fandom: Warhammer 40.000
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Isha/Mortarion (Warhammer 40.000)
Characters: Original Adeptus Astartes | Space Marines Character(s) (Warhammer 40.000), Original Female Character, Mortarion (Warhammer 40.000), Isha (Warhammer 40.000), Emperor of Mankind (Warhammer 40.000), Horus Lupercal
Additional Tags: Crack, AU, Space Marine Husbandry
Series: Part 1 of Wildlife's Space Marine Husbandry setting.
Summary:
Originally on tumblr, Space Marine Husbandry is just a fun thought game about the various Astartes and Primarchs being lifted from the 40k universe and being plopped in our modern day. The idea is not owned by me, these are just the shorts that I came up with with my own original characters (and sometimes with the Primarchs tossed in for fun).
In Chapter 13, we see two more joining the fray. The Emperor and Horus are out in the woods, slowly getting used to this world.
Chapter, where the reader finds themself struggling
Symbiot!Sun x reader
Feedback is greatly appreciated<3
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You're doing the dishes.
Despite how normal and simple this task might appear, you felt like you were lifting weights. Your arms felt heavier and heavier with each movement of a sponge against the plates.
It's been like this for almost a week now. Your bones were made of concrete, your mind was stuffed with cotton.
At first you barely left your bed, telling the two voices in your head that you were just really, really tired.
They were weirded out at first, but paid it no mind. They were still very new to humans, after all.
But with every hour you've spent not eating, not drinking, barely using the toilet even. With each video that was met with apathetic silence, when they knew that it'd made you chuckle or sigh. With each notification from your coworkers that went unanswered, but not ignored.
They understood something was wrong. They didn't know what exactly.
They made you walk to the kitchen and open the fridge. But there wasn't anything ready to eat. When they told you that you should cook something, you wanted to burst out crying. You were too tired to do anything.
You returned to bed, wanting to go to sleep. But they made you order takeout.
They didn't want to starve with you.
That made you feel guilty.
They tried talking, but you couldn't answer them. Words were too tangled, thoughts were too foggy and your tongue was too twisted.
So they stopped pushing, just making sure to take care of bare essentials.
It has been a long time since you've taken a shower, while sitting on the cold porcelain. You hoped you'd never return to this, but. Oh, well. Such is life.
Today they finally convinced you to cook something. Or rather, you didn't protest when they took control of your body. It felt like you finally had support in your impossibly heavy body.
Now you stand here, washing the dishes. One piece at a time.
With the running water, you hear voices. Not the two voices you're used to, no. Those were coming from your phone.
When your inner vision was clouded, you didn't want to let your mind wander. Music or white noise never helped - no matter how happy and carefree the song is, it'll always come to the darker parts of your sick little brain.
So, a podcast was your salvation.
As if to laugh at your sickness, the main characters found themselves somewhere between the worlds. A place where you aren't alive, yet can die. Something dark and warped and twisted. It was a horror podcast, you knew and loved that. But the timing was a bit ironic.
Your hands felt something you've avoided this whole time.
You hit pause as one of the characters was giving a speech at his own funeral.
"Sun.." - you called barely audibly, speaking felt difficult as much as moving.
The symbiot you called Sun made a curious sound, letting you know you had his attention.
"What would happen if I die?" - you asked. The foam covered the silver surface, but you could swear it stared at you. - "Would you die as well?"
"Well, we will, if we don't find a new host quickly," - the alien answered, cheerfully, maybe happy that you started talking. - "We can practically live forever if we jump from host to host in time!"
His voice chirped like a happy little bird, before falling silent.
You scrubbed the sponge against the blade almost absentmindedly. Your fingers held it just a bit too tightly.
The silence grew.
"Buuut..." - he started again, his chirpiness softening. - "It seems that finding a suitable host for us isn't as easy as we'd like."
You blinked, your head still hanging low.
"So we'd have to jump from host to host, sucking them dry and leaving to die. One by one...poor people in this scenario!" - he hummed, before letting out a rather dramatic gasp.
Then, you saw blackness itself before your eyes.
Sun had materialized himself, so his head, with those funny pointy tendrils that reminded you of a sunflower, was floating before your eyes.
"And if we find a human completely incompatible with us, we might die without a chance to escape as well."
You stared at him, at his wide toothy smile that seemed to stretch a little at the edges.
His head tilted slightly, white eyes seemingly softened.
"So let's not make that scenario a reality. At least for now. We'd like to have a compatible host for as long as we can."
The silence grew with every impossibly long second. You stared at each other for what felt like eternity, before you finally huffed with a chuckle and put the soapy object under the water, washing the foam away.
"Fine. Let's try," - you say, putting the now clean knife to dry.
[Death Egg not responding, manual repair systems insufficient. Must aquire more materials before reconstruction]
"Whats all this noise... Im trying to reboot in- Peace?"
[Rogue Asset identification complete. Mecha Sonic mk.II slated for KZzzRrt Termination.]
"Rogue asset... You're just as sad, lonely and broken as the rest of us. I know you could be rebuilt... But if you're going to hurt anyone on this island..."
"I'LL CRUSH YOU!"
[Unnecessary functions diminished, all power diverted to combat mode systems. Silver Sonic Engaging enemy]
Nara shadows are strange, would this be why they never seem to let anything bother them?
Mystery, some angst, medical talk.
Mun writes fanfics in their free time, and this ended up being ShikaTema instead of the usual xReader
Shadows.
It was the one thing the Nara clan was known for besides their easily recognizable laid back nature and intelligence.
But today, the shadows were the overpowering factor.
~~~
The warehouse was surrounded by noise. Criminals being taken down left and right. The sound of a rogue shinobi being choked to unconsciousness before his body dropped to the floor was the last of the more known noises of battle.
The last he remembers.
Hearing the details from the messenger, the hokage's advisor had abandoned his work and rushed off. That decade without missions be damned, he was going, no questions asked.
When he turned the corner inside the no longer heavily guarded warehouse his eyes immediately found red.
Red over blonde like the desert lands.
Red that spread through his vision before being taken over by black.
~~~
Konoha hospital was currently treating a large squadron's injuries, but the head medic watched over Temari who had just woken up, her hand easily finding her son's hair as he laid with his head on his arms at the edge of the hospital bed.
She had no idea how much time had passed between being taken and waking up, but with Shikadai's bloodshot eyes staring at her and looking like he hadn't slept in days she assumed it had been a while.
Temari wasn't allowed to leave her bed yet due to her injuries, but with her son at her side she felt at least somewhat at ease.
Further away from patients, down corridors unknown to civilians and through sealed doors Sakura found herself breaking her brain over the files in front of her. Not a single statistic out of the ordinary. The numbers did not lie, on paper this patient was entirely healthy.
So, why hadn't he spoken a word since then? Not eaten or drank or taken anything
The research area was restless with people coming in for observations and discussions, but behind the glass they all watched nothing had changed for days.
Medical staff were the first to enter the cell after he had woken up, only to end up in the infirmary soon after.
The second team collectively backed out, no one after agreeing to go into the cell until two older shinobi came in. They had received news on their friend's situation.
Ino and Choji were the only two willing to step past the doorway and confront the swirling mass tucked away in the corner.
No one saw what was beneath it all, except for the ones who had devoted their lives to one another a long time ago. There were noted for everyone who wished to read that had all the necessary intel on the shinobi in the cell, but no one had been able to confirm it yet, seeing no one had been able to see behind the mass of darkness.
With each step into the room the shadows seemed to open up, manifested in tendrils and sharp points ready to strike. Yet it stayed quiet for a moment, giving Ino the opportunity to use her jutsu, Choji taking care of her body as she peered into the shadows and--
She found nothing. She stood in total silence surrounded by darkness until a distant growl sounded and she was forcefully expelled from her friend's mind.
When they both stared into the black mass it was like staring into a void. While a pair of eyes stared back, it felt like those were staring through them. Like they were blind.
It lasted for a mere second before one of the shadowy tendrils shot out in attack, barely missing Choji's side as he dodged and making the two rush out of the cell.
One thing was sure to report when the door closed behind them.
Whatever sat in that corner might have his face, but it was no longer their friend.
That wasn't Shikamaru.
Not their teammate who had watched their sensei pass away right before them and stayed calm. Who took out one of his killers with calculated moves and strategies quickly after. It wasn't the man who heard his father's last words in the middle of a battlefield, knowing there was nothing he could do to save him and yet still follow orders and lead an entire squadron in war time.
Their friend had seen pain and loss in many different ways but had never responded like this.
It was Naruto who stepped into the cell the next day, being able to deflect some of the shadow's strikes and observe the husk of a man it seemed to protect.
According to his reports he believed the shadow was the one in control.
The last person to get close was Shikadai, under heavy surveillance and Naruto's backup. He lasted the longest of everyone, and his report held the most interesting intel.
It seemed there was a hint of recognition in Shikamaru's eyes. Even if his own son had a hard time seeing it was truly him under the shadows there was something there.
Shikadai, as of now, was the only person who didn't get attacked, until he tried to to get too close and had to rush out.
So they concluded that it was in fact Shikamaru, but just as Naruto had observed it was the shadow that was sentient and in control.
In the meantime Temari had still been in recovery, fighting anyone who told her to stay in bed but quickly learning they were right in their orders, almost collapsing in the hallways multiple times. Still, each time she made it further towards her destination.
The day after Shikadai had told her about seeing his dad she had forced herself all the way to the sealed area where they reluctantly let her through.
The people knew her, giving the woman apologetic looks for both her current state and for what she'd find at the end of her walk.
When she came through the last door the room fell silent, no one having thought of how to ease Temari into seeing him. Yet no one dared to stop her when she made her wordless approach towards the research cell door.
Not that anything they could have said was going to change her mind. Temari was as stubborn as can be when it came to her family.
With calculated movements Temari had set foot into the room, slowly approaching the dark mass that was as restless as it had been when the tranquilizer wore off days ago.
Just as it did before with the others it opened up, the swirling tendrils and smoke-like chakra dispersing just enough to show the slumped form of her husband. She immediately took notice of how his eyes stared blankly at the floor, not even the slightest hint of acknowledgement coming off the main body. It wasn't until she carefully whispered his name that his eyes flicked up towards the sound.
Pitch black eyes with the smallest white pupil that showed he was actively looking at her. Or, in her direction at least.
From behind the glass everyone else was watching. Some scribbling along with what they were seeing.
Temari's movements were slow. Partially due to her still not entirely healed injuries, partially because of uncertainty. She had no idea if or when she could get attacked.
Still she kept moving closer, one small step at a time. She was ready to crouch down and be at his eye level but before she could, a tendril shot out at her and wound itself around her torso, curling tight enough to make her yelp out in pain as it yanked her closer.
At the sound the coil loosened and she dropped to her knees, breathing heavy as she caught those blackened eyes once more.
She saw hurt. His eyebrows drawn up in apology. At least, what she could see of them, partially hidden under the dark streaks that crossed his eyes and shaped into horns over his forehead.
Shikamaru's mouth opened behind tusks shaped of the same shadow curling up his neck and face, as if he wanted to speak but all that came out was a strangled groan.
So her husband was still in there.
The newfound detail gave her the confidence to lift her hand and place it against the tendril that still sat loosely coiled around her waist. It tensed as she touched it, more quickly approaching her and tangling with her limbs.
The shadow pulled her closer. Much more careful this time, until she was close enough to touch him properly. With tendrils gently coiling around her as if they were remembering she let her hands travel from his shoulders down to his hands, lacing their fingers together as she whispered his name time and time again, hoping for a response.
The black chakra had entirely dispersed by now, clearly showing the markings over Shikamaru's flesh that spawned the solid shadows. They crept up from a spot that disappeared down the neckline of his shirt so Temari was unable to see its origin.
What she did see was a bodily response from Shikamaru when she touched him. His eyes followed every slight movement from where their fingers interlaced to her eyes widening in surprise at the soft squeeze around her hand.
He seemed to be coming back so she decided to keep talking to him. Old memories of their genin days, meeting again as chunin and the small hidden personal interactions during large events that led to the two of them making their relationship official. As her words kept up the tendrils slowly started to retract, no longer in need to protect their host. Temari took note of it and continued on with fond stories of their marriage and eventually ending on the topic of Shikadai.
From outside the window the others watched the shadows slowly disappear. The horns and tusks retreating along with the markings along his skin.
Shikamaru shifted to sit up, his eyes still black but full of emotion as he looked up at the woman across from her.
In a second he had moved to his knees, throwing himself at her, his arms around her shoulders and his face buried in the crook of her neck.
