VampireKilmerFic

Vamp || circa 1980's || she/her || CST 🔞 MDNI || Fuck AI || Fandom side blog Likes/Follows from @vampirekilmer

[vampirekilmerfic]

(insert really pretty, aesthetic header here)

Howdy. I'm Vamp, this is my side blog for all things fandom related. vampirekilmer is my main blog, which you're welcome to follow, but these days it is 5% fandom and 95% chaos.

Have a look around, don't be afraid to ask any questions. I post my fanfiction here and on AO3.

Fanfiction Masterlist

My Tags:

• #vampirekilmerfic ask

• #vampirekilmerfic rec / #fic rec - my fanfic recommendations

• #vampirekilmer writes / #my writing - my writing

• #fanfiction

• #fanart

• #headcanon

• #masterlist - masterlists for various writers and authors

• #meta - non-fiction writing discussing any aspect of fandom

• #psa / #reblogging for reference / #the more you know

• love is blindness teeth and blood - my personal tag for the Venn diagram of love, devotion, ferality, consumption, darkness

Fandoms

Call of Duty

• #call of duty

• #cod fanfiction

• #cod fanart

• #captain john price

• #simon ghost riley

• #kyle gaz garrick

• #johnny soap mactavish

Writing / Storytelling

• #writing reference - things to help you write better

• "Keep Your Dog on a Leash" amazing fan collaborative meta commentary on the relationship dynamic when someone becomes amoral in their devotion

• "Welcome to the Army" deadbranch's incredibly insightful series on what it's actually like to serve in the military.

• "Fanfiction is not 'ewww'" a beautiful defense of the value and importance of fanfiction as a genre of stories and a part of art and creative expression.

• Misc writing resources from peachesofteal

• Early's list of COD playthroughs and BTS

• How to put your transformative work (fanfic, art, etc) on your résumé

• CoD/Military Writing Reference Masterlist

Archive of Our Own

• "Vamp’s Quick and Dirty Guide to Finding Stories on AO3" mobile friendly

• "Know Your Audience; Tagging Your Fics on AO3" from ao3commentoftheday

• "Alternative AO3 Kudos Images" these are perfect for when you've already left kudos but want to leave more

• "AO3 is not for minors"

Tumblr

• "Tagging Your Posts" - most important point: only the first 20 tags show up in searches

Miscellaneous

• Californicationist's amazing essay on the importance and value of fanfiction

• "...Fan fiction is a way of the culture repairing the damage done in a system where contemporary myths are owned by corporations instead of owned by the folk."

• "Why you should reblog your own fics"

• "Tag Warnings > Cancel Culture"

• "Stopping piracy of your long fic on Amazon"

• 𝐂𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 "𝑭𝒖𝒍𝒍 𝑮𝒓𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝑨𝒅𝒖𝒍𝒕 𝑴𝒂𝒏" 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞™

• Simon Riley, aka Schrödinger's Freaky Cat

• Country Fuckboy Philip Graves Slander List

(Credit to Cafekitsune for the lovely moon divider)

[daniel-bruehl]

“Show my face?… Negative.”

SIMON ’GHOST’ RILEY in CALL OF DUTY: MODERN WARFARE II (2022)

[arthurmorganist]

NOBODY FUCKING MOVEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[vozart]

he’s actually 6 foot 5 trust

[sefarlen]

🏠💓

[unwrapping]

Show Posts in Chronological Order on a Blog’s Tagged Page: Like most blogs, Tumblr shows your posts in reverse chronological order. For tagged pages on your blog, you can switch the posts to flow into chronological order by adding /chrono to the end of the URL. For example, I post my favorite new themes each month, tagged as themes of the month. To show those posts chronologically, I would take http://unwrapping.tumblr.com/tagged/themes-of-the-month and add /chrono at the end of the URL, making my new link: http://unwrapping.tumblr.com/tagged/themes-of-the-month/chrono

[valiants]

Courting

[the-californicationist]

Did you know you have 141 CoD fics on AO3?

*chefs kiss*

AHHHHH! truly it has been such a pleasure to share each and every one with y'all. i can't believe there's that many, actually. lol wait, does this mean i need to stop here?? O_O

[vampirekilmerfic]

A truly auspicious day!

[the-californicationist]

{fanfic by @the-californicationist & artwork by @auberghyn} Masterlist -- See AO3 for tags

Morning stretched through your window like a bright thief, stealing your last day on Alpha Astra from you without pause or remorse. You looked over at Johnny as he stepped out of the bathing chamber, and you realized that he had not yet replaced the Maol into his mouth. You smiled at him, and to your immense pleasure, he smiled back. You wish you had your flashcorder to capture the moment, but you knew in your heart that a simulacra would not be enough. The picture would only sour in your memory knowing that the real thing was so much better. 

He stood up straight, carrying a small towel and wearing only his kilt, his face and demeanor asking you, 

What shall I do for you, Your Grace? 

“Keeper MacTavish,” you felt your voice creak and break from your sleep, “Return to me.”

As quick as he could, Johnny canceled the nightbots’ program and opened his lips to accept the Maol. You watched it lock into place, the darksteel shining with hypercarbon and titanium alloy, the strongest ore in the Sacred Solarium. 

“Mmngh,” you stretched out in bed, still naked from the night before, and you padded over to your control panel to ring for your dressing attendants. 

Johnny had already donned his armor, all of the carefully programmed computer chips bending and flexing to fit his body on his behalf. He didn't need a dressing team like you did. Stupid traditions. 

You dug around in your personal chest and retrieved two cal-packs for Johnny. You placed them in his hands, and when he met you with a questioning look, you shrugged,

“It's going to be a long day. You need the energy.”

He knew it was taboo to overfeed a guard. Anything that might lead them astray from their vow, any excess, was shunned. And so today’s Seeding ceremony would be quite the talk of the town, you were sure. But you didn't care. You weren't coming back here. Ever. 

You tried to keep your dark thoughts at bay, instead applying the perfume Johnny selected for you to your wrists, neck, and between your breasts. There. Something nice on a terrible day. 

“Is this what you wanted?” You asked him, holding your wrist out for him to scent. 

Johnny took your hand and put it up to his nose, getting it close enough for you to feel the slip of the metal of his muzzle against your flesh. 

“Mm,” he gave you a soft sound of approval. 

Then, you gave him your neck, and after a moment’s hesitation, he bent forward, his tall frame covering you in a long shadow, and he put his nose against your skin, taking in big, indulgent sniffs of air. 

You lifted your hand to cradle the back of his head like a mother does to a nursing babe, guiding him to your tits, making sure he had enough of your scent to please him. 

“Mmngh…” He moaned, stepping closer as if he was afraid you'd pull away. 

You felt the sharp exhale of his breath skate across your nipple as he pulled back, his eyes glowing with an inner fire. 

A bell rang, and your attendants filled the room, dressing you, making your bed, preparing you for today’s long procession as you left Alpha Astra and completed your destiny as the Sovereign of Celestia, riding your flagship vessel, the Galactica, to your new home. 

You dreaded every moment.

Chimes filled the room and Johnny stood directly beside you, his fist on his chest in salute. Through your door, as attendants fitted you into your silken robes, your mother and father strode in. 

You curtsied, the whole room bowed, and then at the flick of your mother’s jewel-encrusted wrist, they went back to their bustling jobs. 

“My, my,” your father crooned, “What a magnificent young woman you've become. We are so proud of you, darling.”

“I have heard from no less than five noble families who have sent their sons to Station Etagh to prepare to court you and win the Keeper’s Trial. And I'm sure there will be others from beyond the Pale Star. How wonderful.”

“I am glad you are pleased, My Sovereigns."

“Hrumph,” your mother shook her head, “You wouldn't have survived your own… questionable choices if it wasn't for Keeper MacTavish. Your bounty is being sent to your Clan House as we speak, young man. May your Trial reveal the truth about these suitors, yes?”

Johnny nodded his head once in submissive agreement before returning to his position at your side. 

“I feel so relieved that he will be filtering out the chaff,” your mother snarled. “I don't believe Rison VI has produced a worthy mate for generations, and I won't have them sullying the Astral bloodline.”

“Speaking of bloodlines, Mother,” you said as you bent your knee again in deference, “I have not yet Awoken today. If you wouldn't mind, there is much to be done. We have our final Seeding ritual to complete as well.”

“Oh, of course! He has well earned it for putting up with you, I’m sure. We wouldn't keep you from your duty, Keeper MacTavish.”

Again with the bowing and the curtsies. You weren't exactly going to grieve the loss of your parents’ presence in your life; of course you might think of them fondly, but right now, you had other things to do. 

“Johnny,” you turned to him as your parents left the room along with the parade of attendants. A few lingered, delivering your breakfast and hot caff. 

He lifted his chin to you and waited patiently for your request. 

“Will you help me Awaken?” 

That was his cue. Immediately, Johnny reached toward his thigh and pulled his knife free. Then, he held out his thumb and cut a small slit in it, enough to make it bleed. Finally, he placed his thumb vertically down the tip of your nose and through the center of your two lips, leaving a bright red line on your mouth. 

Over the course of the day, it would fade and wear off as you ate and drank, but for now, you preened in your reflection, standing with him as he wiped his thumb on a cloth you gave him, stopping the bleeding and allowing another scar to mar his skin. His scars were so plentiful that - were each one not so precious to you - it would have frightened you to see them. The raised edge of cut after cut after cut was a badge of honor for a Keeper, and most Sovereigns did not take daily Awakenings, but you did. You'd overheard other guards marveling at Johnny’s scars, and the way he swelled with pride at their comments spurred you on. 

The first time you'd tasted his blood had been at his Keeper ceremony where he first took the Maol. Back then, few people on your planet had even heard of Celestia, much less seen a man from there, and so Johnny’s immense size was quite the marvel for the nobles who had travelled from far and wide to bear witness to your first Awakening. It was considered the responsibility of the Sovereign family to take the blood of their people into themselves so that they might know and feel and experience their subjects’ lives and struggles. Most of your family went through with the ritual, but you had truly embraced it, even going as far as to take a drop of Johnny’s blood onto your tongue, just as in the ancient times. The Solarium priests had praised you for it, but you'd done it for another reason. 

You wanted to carry Johnny’s life inside of you forever. You'd never let go of your affection for him, and you had no other way of showing him that no matter how devoted he was to you, you pledged to be equally devoted to him and to the people of Celestia, even if they were a new border planet and not officially a part of the Solarium. 

Until now. Your Mother’s recent Decree had changed everything.

“Thank you, Johnny.” You looked up at him and smiled, and - with his eyes - he smiled, too. 

“You should prepare for the final Seeding. I thought we would have it here, in our chamber, since it will be your last.”

Johnny shifted, eyeing you for a moment, glancing at the low, cushioned table that the attendants had brought in along with your meal.

“Yes?” You asked him. 

He nodded. 

Then, you called for the Seedlings to be delivered. 

The door chimed and you perched on the edge of your bed to watch them come in. There were seven women, each of a beautiful stature and with shapely figures. You knew Johnny enjoyed a much thicker body for his Seeding practices. Someone who could handle his strength and size. They were all blindfolded, of course, and they were wrapped in thin muslin slips. 

They were accompanied by a High Priest of the Solar Sect, a woman whose job it was to vet and purify these women for consumption. You didn't want to risk Johnny’s health for anything. 

“Remove your robes,” you commanded.

Eagerly, they all did. As soon as their outer shells fell away, these women began moving their hands all over their flesh, rocking their hips from side to side erotically, doing anything they could to enchant your Keeper. 

“And which Seedling pleases you, Your Highness?” The priest asked, watching you as you watched them. 

She gave Johnny the ritual serum, injecting it into his suit’s port. It would help him get hard, allow his body to produce more come, and he could breed a Seedling and yet still be able to be milked for additional samples, if you chose to sell them off. You never did. You always let Johnny have his fill of the Seedling, and then you let him spill the rest onto the floor, milking himself with his hands. You didn't need the money.

“My Keeper will choose this time,” you shrugged, “Whatever he wants. He can have them all if he decides that his appetite can withstand it.”

The priest blustered and hawed,  “That is most unusual, Your Highness. Perhaps a more modest hand wou–”

“I don't remember asking for advisement,” you sniped. Then, you turned to Johnny and cocked your head at the writhing lineup. “Go on. And don't be modest. I demand you choose with your heart, Keeper.”

Johnny stared at you for a long while, and then, he undressed in front of you. With you, he had no shame in his body. He paced around the room, stalking the line of excited women who were all too hungry for his attention. They'd be set for life if he selected them today. 

Just before you came of age, your nursemaid, Shalna, told you all about Keepers. How they would be fueled from packs of well-balanced nutrients, delivered by their armor right into their bloodstreams. How their waste was recycled out in the same way. How they would sooner die than take anything by mouth. And how, when they came of age, they would have needs that required tending to. Sexual needs. Advisors of the dominion had insisted that it improved their health and their fighting stamina, and so it was very much frowned upon to deny your Keeper his release. 

Most Keepers were hooked up to machines in their Sovereign's palace where they would place their cocks in specialized milking devices for their seed to be sucked from their body, carried away to be split and sold to the highest bidders. That was as nice as it usually got. In poorer households of lesser noble families, they would simply be given a cup and told to deliver a donation once per month. But, for the highborn Sovereigns, there was another option. 

The Seeding ritual. 

During Solstice celebrations and before important events, a few times a year, royal families would pay for their Keeper to endure a Seeding ritual. Willing, fertile women would apply for a chance at being selected because bearing a child of a Keeper meant that their child had a sure chance of being accepted into a sect, possibly trained to become a Keeper themselves. If a woman was not a noble, this was her ticket to the top. 

But, for Johnny, you held Seeding rituals every week. On each passing of the second moon of Alpha Astra, you would provide Johnny with a Seeding ceremony. It cost you a fortune to arrange transport for the chosen women to come from far and wide, but you didn't care. They were the best of the best. If it kept him healthy, you wanted him to have it. 

At first, he refused. He wouldn't and couldn’t tell you why, but you respected his wishes. Some women would beg you to force him, and you quickly threw them out in disgust. But then, you noticed that he liked to watch you select them, as was your duty. It was extremely taboo for him to choose for himself, so you used what knowledge you had about his preferences and selected your pick. He most enjoyed it when you would ask him to come up to the line of Seedlings and smell their perfumed hair and skin. 

Eventually, you learned which scents he enjoyed and which ones he passed on. Then, you began inviting him to scent their quims, commanding each woman to spread her wetness on her hand and hold it out for him to choose. It didn't take much for you to learn Johnny’s cues. His body would tense in just that way when he smelled something he liked, and you would pick her immediately. It took quite a bit of encouragement from you, but eventually, he bred his first Seedling, and you stopped worrying about his sexual health.  

In the beginning, you had tried to give him some privacy, sitting across the room, reading your novels, writing letters, listening to him drag his heavy cock through these women, breeding them with deep, guttural grunts through his mask. He’d insisted on keeping the Maol in his mouth, and you didn’t fight him on it. Still, you were close enough for him to see you and keep his guard, but you kept your back turned so that he wouldn't feel witnessed. 

But then, you realized that he was not just making sure you were safe. He had kept his eyes on you the entire time. You'd even set the robots to manage security so that he could look at his Seedling, but he didn't care. As he was preparing each woman, every week, pressing his fingers into their warm cores, spreading them wider so that they would be able to take his size, his eyes never left you. Even when he inserted himself into them, his prick reaching far beyond their entrance and into their warm bellies, his eyes were locked on you through the whole ordeal. 

Johnny looked at you even when he came. And you liked that very much. It was beautiful to witness, and you found yourself aching to see - and hear - his climax again. 

So, you had moved closer, making it even easier for him to see you. And eventually, you had decided that you really liked to watch the entire ritual. That's how you found yourself sitting at the head of the breeding table, gazing upon your Keeper as he fucked his precious seed into the most beautiful women in the galaxy. Their tits would bounce and their soft bellies would ripple as he pounded himself inside of them. Sometimes, the imprint of his hand would bruise their thigh, and you discovered that you were jealous of their wounds. They would scream like they were being killed. 

You wanted him to fuck you like that. But that would not be possible. It was forbidden. 

Then, one fateful day, you motioned for him to scent his Seedling directly from her quim as she lay on the table, and - after some encouragement - he obliged. Watching his eyes roll back in his head as his nose breathed in her sex was enough to nearly make you come yourself. You touched your soft folds many a night to that reaction, which you were sure that he had witnessed even though you tried to hide it under your blankets. But you weren't ashamed. Not in front of him. 

And so, because he seemed to enjoy it, you had a special prize for him today. 

You had read the ancient tomes. You knew that the only exception to taking the Maol was hygiene, medicine, and this ritual. So, you commanded him, “Before you scent them, Johnny,” his eyes shot up to yours, “Bring me your Maol.”

The whole room froze. No one breathed. You'd never asked him to remove it before. 

Johnny’s eyes were wide with something akin to fear at your command.

“This is not an order. It is simply an invitation,” you smiled. “You are well within your right to refuse as usual.”

The priest nodded her head once, but you didn't ask for her permission. You didn't need it. 

Johnny walked over to you, and slowly, ever so slowly, removed the Maol from his teeth and placed it in your hand, the locking mechanism closing up with a soft, robotic whir. It was wet with his saliva, and you wrapped it in a silk cloth to keep it clean. Then, you watched his mouth. He was breathing hard, but he looked at you like you'd disappear. Worry etched across his brow. 

“Go on,” you encouraged him, “Try them all. This is the last Seeding ritual I can give you, Johnny. Please, let me make you happy.”

Johnny furrowed his brow into something unreadable, shaking his head. 

“Well,” you shrugged, “If you can't be happy, at least you can taste something for a change.”

He hesitated, but then he turned back to the line of women. You took his hand and led him over to the first one. Her long, dark hair flowed down her back and her skin gleamed like the sun. You watched him kneel down, his nose and mouth right in front of the black curls of her quim. Johnny leaned forward and began to suckle at the center of her sex, parting her lips with his own, drinking from her slick font.  His hand gripped yours tight, and he didn't let go even while he buried his face between her legs, staring up at you the whole time.

The serum was working. You could see his cock jerk and pulse at its thick root, the head of it straining against his foreskin, dripping like a ripe plum. Clear, shining precome ran down his shaft in thick rivulets all the way to his huge balls, darkening his pubic hair and making it sticky. 

“Will you be needing all of these Seedlings, Your Highness?” The priest interrupted your ritual, looking for her payment, you were sure. 

“Yes, perhaps,” you didn't bother looking up at her, “My purse is maintained by the clerk in the main hall. The attendant outside the door will take you there.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. May I say, it is so refreshing to see that House Astra has maintained the old customs.”

You didn't answer her. She left, and you stood there alone with Johnny and the seven blindfolded women whom he would breed this morning. 

“Seedlings,” you announced, “Please lay with your back upon the table. My Keeper will be with you shortly.”

Six polite and deep curtsies later, and finally Johnny’s feast was set up for him to enjoy. 

You watched the first Seedling edge herself onto the table, leaning back and spreading her legs for him, her gentle cries echoing through your bedchamber as your Keeper devoured her center. You marveled at Johnny’s mouth as it moved against her flesh, his tongue flowing inside of her hole as if he meant to breed her with it, fucking her with his long, smooth muscle and tasting her the whole way in. 

Placing his hand upon her belly, you let go of his warm fist, and took your seat at the head of the table. The attendants had left you with a steaming cup of Zayathian tea and milk, and you took a short sip, waiting a little longer for it to cool down. 

As the Seedling’s cries grew louder, you noticed Johnny burying his nose into the crest of her mons, the tip of it brushing against her throbbing bead. Moments later, she froze, her muscles tense and trembling, and she came hard against his maskless jaw, her hips shamelessly bucking, desperate to follow her instincts. 

Johnny stood, and as you took a sip of your tea, he stared at your mouth, dipping his cock into his Seedling’s soaking pussy. His eyelids fluttered, and he bent forward, his left hand reaching across the table, searching for something. 

You watched his movements, and as you tried to read his mind, eager to help him with whatever he needed, you offered your hand. His hand shot out, grabbing your palm tightly, and he held onto you as he began the steady rhythm of his rut. 

Carefully, you set your tea down on its saucer and enclosed his fist in both of your hands, gently massaging his fingers and wrist, trying to soothe him in some small way. But, the noises he was making with his body and his now-open mouth were making you question your sanity. 

It wasn’t right for you to lust after your Keeper. But, you did. Everything about him made you wish you were a Seedling instead of a Princess. 

You wanted to touch your own pussy. You knew that the moment you snaked your finger down into the soft divot of your quim, you'd find yourself dripping into your underclothes. 

It didn't take long for the Seedling to come again. They always did. You had never taken a cock inside of yourself, nor even held one in your hands, but you were sure that Johnny’s must've been special in some way. You'd attended other Seeding rituals for your sisters’ Keepers, special and rare events for them which usually meant a public audience, but their cocks had not had the same effect. Nor were they allowed the pleasure of smell or taste. Perhaps that was the key. 

You watched the beautiful woman’s hips jerk against Johnny’s prick, desperately milking him of his come, every cell in her body begging to be bred. 

This was your favorite part. Seeing him come to his orgasm was spectacular. And now, with his hand in yours, you felt his need. He squeezed you so tightly, and you looked up into his face, watching his lips pull away from his sharp, white teeth, snarling and rumbling with a rough groan. 

“Arhgh!” Johnny opened his mouth and let out a harsh bark of noise, his eyes fixed on you with a helpless, desperate gaze, his icy pupils gleaming in the morning light. 

As he pulled out of his Seedling, she collected herself, breathing heavily, and then slipped on her loose clothes and left the room. You didn't know what happened to them after they were bedded. You never asked your attendants to explain, and you didn't really care. 

You squeezed Johnny’s hand that was now weak and limp in your own, still holding you, firmly. Smiling, you asked him, “Would you enjoy another?”

He nodded his head, holding your palm a little tighter and stepping out of the way for the next Seedling to spread herself before him on his mount. 

Again, he knelt down between her thighs and licked her open, pressing his lips to her in the same way as he'd done before. But, he didn't wait for her to come. He stood quickly this time, palming his prick to line himself up. 

“Hhhnghh…” He moaned as he set his cockhead inside of her hole, and his rhythm was back in no time, his stamina enhanced by the serum. 

And again, he fucked her to an orgasm, his gleaming rod shining pink and white, covered in the silky seed that flowed from his tip. 

You watched her come, and you couldn't help yourself. You slid your free hand between your silks and touched your own hole with two of your fingers, breathing out a sigh of relief the moment you conceded. 

Johnny’s hand grabbed you so violently in that same moment that you thought you'd done something wrong. You paused, breathing hard, and looked up at him. You spoke to him softly, trying not to disturb him, “Do you need me to move away?”

He was still locked onto you, but his eyes were not looking at your face. Johnny was staring at your wrist as it disappeared beneath the petals of your gown. So, you untied your skirt, moving it away from your hips, revealing yourself to him. 

You were sure this wasn't breaking a rule, but it certainly felt like it was. For the first time since you came of age, you felt like you should be hiding your body from your Keeper. You'd been naked around him almost daily, and you'd sometimes touched yourself at night with him keeping watch. But this was different, somehow. 

Still, you didn't let go of his hand, not that you could with his monstrous grip, and you allowed him to witness you. It was his final Seeding, you told yourself, he should get to experience what he wants. If he wanted to watch you bring yourself to pleasure, so be it. 

You'd always thought, even as a girl, that Johnny fancied you. He was doting enough. But then, when you'd understood his dogmatic drive to become a Keeper, you thought his passion was for his position and not for you as a person. 

Over the years, however, you'd seen some evidence to the contrary. During your baths, especially in the first few months of his assignment, his eyes were glued to your breasts and to your quim the entire time they were visible. He tensed just the same way he did when he smelled his Seedlings. Over time, he tried - at least for the most part - to look at your face, but even now, you knew that if you dragged down your chemise, he would enjoy your breasts again. 

To test your theory, you removed your fingers from your hole and opened your blouse for him, and the ragged sigh that left his body was a delightful reward. With a few more ferocious pumps, he had come again inside of the Seedling while gazing at your tits, and that made your whole body shiver, your flesh pebbling at his reaction. 

You rubbed your nipple briefly before returning to your pussy, moving your fingers in tight little circles and listening to the slick sound you were making. 

Suddenly, Johnny snatched the next Seedling from the table and yanked her onto her belly as the already-bred woman stumbled out of the way. The new offering gasped, fearful at first, but when she felt him drag his cock through her entrance, her anxiety turned to pleasure, and she bent her head to the table, allowing him to use her like a milking device, rough and fast. 

You wanted to feel this version of him inside of you, this carnal violence, and you moved your hand not in sync with your pleasure but with his. He noticed, and you watched him gasp for air, slowing his thrusts for you, but keeping the same hard rhythm, making the table groan under his power. 

You did not moan. You didn't dare. These Seedlings couldn't see you, and they didn't need to know of your pleasure. So, you bit your lip and held your tongue, getting very close to your own release. 

Suddenly, dripping with white, heavy seed, Johnny let go of your hand and stepped away from the table. He was panting, his belly filling with air, his enormous muscles feathering under his skin as he tried to breathe. 

You stopped, too. 

“Are you done?” You asked him. 

No. He shook his head and looked at you with a long stare, his mouth in a straight line. 

“Do you need them to leave?” You could hear the whining cries of the Seedlings as you finished your sentence, “Silence!”

They fell silent. 

Johnny nodded his head. Yes.

“Get out. Now.”

All of the remaining women grabbed their shifts and scurried out of the room, some of them in tears, but you were only worried about Johnny. They were excellent candidates. They'd get the breeding they wanted from another Keeper. You made a mental note to send them to Amelie, your eldest niece whose Keeper had just completed his ceremony. 

You eyed Johnny when the room was empty, and you reached for his Maol. 

“Do you want to stop? You are still heavy with seed. I can see that you–” 

The sound of Johnny’s hand coming down onto the table made you stop talking. His face was full of need and something that looked like fear, and for the first time in years, you didn't know what he was trying to tell you. 

But, you sat back, putting his Maol away, and you returned your hands to your breasts, caressing them slowly, trying to see if he would look at them or if he would still stare into your eyes. 

Sure enough, he breathed out a sigh of relief and began touching himself with both of his hands, gripping the base of his prick in one fist and teasing his head with the other, his gaze stuck on your tits. 

You spread your legs for him, just like the Seedlings did, and you saw him jerk forward, his hips humping his fist like he was still fucking someone. 

The table was blocking some of his view, so he shoved it away, clearing a path between you and him, both of you touching yourselves in your shadowy bedchamber. His eyes were focused on the movements of your hands as you pleasured yourself, his own pace slowing to a more languid beat. 

You could smell yourself, and you thought that there would be no tenets broken if he could smell you, too. You wouldn't let him breed you, no matter how much you wanted him to. So, you thought, there would be no harm. 

“Would you like to scent me, Johnny?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper and breathy from your heightened pleasure. 

He let out a long groan, and you watched him tumble into a violent orgasm, his prick throwing ropes of come onto the stone floor. As he came, you saw him stumble forward a step before he caught his balance again.   

Then, he let go of himself and wiped his fingers on his belly and thighs, trying to clean himself off as much as he could. Finally, he knelt down in the ruin of his own seed, and he bent forward, breathing in the scent of your wet sex through his nose. 

You watched him for a moment, and then you began to touch yourself again, slowly, right in front of his face. Johnny did the same. He looked up at you as if to ask for something. Then, his eyes darted over to his Maol. 

Johnny knew he couldn't taste you, and perhaps he thought he couldn't hold himself back from the temptation. But you weren't sure. So, you gave him his mask, and you watched him lock it back into place, but he didn't end his ritual. He stayed there, scenting you, his whole body vibrating with need and shuddering from the vigor with which he was fucking his fist. 

You took your other hand and very carefully held the back of his head, twisting your fingers into the long tail of his mohawk, bringing him just fractions closer to your quim. Then, you locked eyes with him and canted your hips, removing your hand so that you could rub yourself against his Maol instead. 

His eyes shot open in shock, and then almost immediately, his brow knitted together, his throat gasping for air as he began to cry out beneath your body. 

“Mmnhh… Mmnhh… Mmngh…” your Keeper growled through each of his moans like a wounded animal. 

You didn't need to stay quiet anymore, and you let your own cries sing for him. The cold metal of his mask had warmed from your body’s heat, and your wetness made it shine. You dragged your clit over the raised seam in the middle, and you felt yourself start to come undone. 

Your pleasure slowly spooled up in your belly, the blood rushing up your arms and down your legs, and you felt your thighs tighten around his face, holding him in place as if he was eating from you like a Seedling. 

“Oh! Ahhngh… Johnny…” You arched your back, pressing your pussy into his mask as you let yourself go, smearing your joy all over his muzzled mouth. 

You saw stars at the edge of your vision, and your body went limp. After a few long moments, you felt Johnny carrying you in his arms, his hands wet with his come on your arm and thigh, and then he laid you in your bed. He stared at you for a moment, and you didn't even know the beginning of how to decipher his gaze. 

Then, he set the robotic wards and disappeared into the bathing chamber. You heard the water run for a while, and finally, he reappeared, gathering his clothes and armor before dressing in front of you. He returned his knife to its sheath and stood at his post. 

You studied his demeanor, but you couldn't tell what he was thinking. You covered yourself and stood, asking him,

“Will you tie my skirts?”

Johnny did so, immediately and with skill. Then, he took his hands away from you. 

You searched his face, and he searched yours. There was so much that you wanted to say. Your hands burned to take his Maol from him, to talk to him as you had before he’d been purified. But, that was not possible. 

There was a knock at the door. 

“Enter,” you called out. 

As usual, Johnny moved in front of you, ready to attack if need be, but it was just your attendant. The man bowed, and reported, “Your Highness, the parade will begin at your command.”

They were waiting for you. You sighed, gazing around your bedchamber for the final time. You looked up at Johnny.

“Are you ready to leave?”

Johnny looked at you and nodded once. So, you took his hand and walked with him out into the grand hall, following the attendant and a cadre of other guards down to the courtyard. 

Outside, your palanquin sat decorated with gold and crystal meteor shards and ribbons aplenty. Johnny knelt, giving you his knee as a platform to climb up, and he followed you inside, closing the silk curtains and setting his shields for a public outing. 

You weren't afraid. Your biggest threat was an assassination by the Alandric Guild, a cutthroat group of mercenaries that wanted to bring chattel slavery back to the Solarium. Your family would never allow them to prosper, and so they dedicated themselves to hunting you and your sisters, trying to overthrow your reign from within. There hadn't been an attack in months, so you sat back, basking in the afterglow of your morning pleasure. 

Johnny squeezed your hand affectionately in his, and he kept an eye on the crowd, checking in with you every few moments with a quick glance. 

“Did you enjoy your Seedlings this morning?”

Johnny nodded once, politely thanking you with his short bow. 

Then, as he was checking the glittering crowd again, you asked, “Did you enjoy my scent?”

His hand crushed yours hard enough to surprise you. Then, as if realizing he was hurting you, he loosened his grip and nodded again, slower this time, his eyes never leaving yours. Then, in order to hold his laser rifle and take on the mantle of his guard, he dropped your hand, and you felt a strange emptiness. 

Had you done the right thing? Or, had you taken too many indulgences in joining him in his ritual? You should have been thinking toward your future, your husband, and the long age of your Dominion over the planet of Celestia, but all you could think about was Johnny.

Masterlist

[auberghyn]

2026 Art x Fic Collaboration (The Grand Library F.K.A. 141 RECON Server) | Junepiter — Celestia (AO3 | Tumblr) (Galactic Knight!Johnny x AFAB! Reader) by @the-californicationist | Drawn on Procreate, Animated on Photoshop (No Process Video Because I am still working on it!)

This is the black and white version of the collab as I got hella swamped with freelance and won't be able to colour it until I fly back from my vacation in August ;w;. For now, here's a b&w GIF of Galactic Johnny o vo)/

[the-californicationist]

AHHHHHH!!!! It's here!! This feels like Christmas. OMG I LOVE HIM!!! <3 <3 thank you so much for your amazing talent and incredible friendship babes. You could ask for the fuckin moon and I'd go get it for you. Muah!!

[gaydelgard]

i hear a good lyric and start mentally holding up blorbos like im in the home depot paint aisle comparing swatches

[the-californicationist]

@auberghyn x @the-californicationist collab coming soon...

[valiants]

Long time coming

[ok-notgood-probablybad]

I don't know, if they'll ever top this photoshoot

[vampirekilmerfic]

Michelangelo and Bernini would turn in their graves to sculpt these two.

[tanzanitedepths]

Fanfiction Club: The Rules

This idea came to me when I woke up first thing this morning.

[unseaworthy]

Extremely self-indulgent ugly!f!Reader x König Medieval AU. Rated E for one saucy bit. Part 1 of 2.

Big thank you to @konigswaifu for inspiring me to post. Please check out her amazing Knight König series!!

Through merit and noble birth, you rose through the ranks to become an indispensable member of the monarchy’s inner circle. Your sharp mind helped secure your kingdom’s borders and ensure prosperity for those who live within them. Life in the castle was never dull, even when you weren’t working - entertaining foreign diplomats, attending events like jousts and feasts, or listening in on lectures in the conservatory made for a full schedule.

You also occasionally took part in the more salacious activities that keep the royals from getting bored. The Queen held decadent private parties where the most attractive commoners offered themselves up in hopes of stealing the heart of someone high-born. It was quite common for nobles to have human pets that tagged along for their activities throughout the castle: a pretty lady to sit on their laps during meetings, or a handsome man to rub their shoulders while they ate dinner. The public would likely make more of a fuss about the practice if the kingdom was not currently enjoying a golden age.

You’d never had a pet. Not because you couldn’t get one, but because you thought it would be cruel to force someone to dote on you. Plenty of people in the castle deserved that level of devotion for their beauty, and it was even clear that many of the pets enjoyed their positions. They lived in luxury alongside their masters and mistresses, even if they were occasionally traded like commodities. It was better than toiling in the fields all day or selling goods for pittance in the market. Besides, who wouldn’t wish to bring pleasure to someone as gorgeous as the princess, or as strapping as the knight-commander? 

You simply… weren’t those things. Gorgeous, strapping. The kindest word that could be said about your face was “plain,” and the proportions of your body were undesirable by any standard you could imagine. People were kind to you, but no one had ever expressed interest. The few trysts you’d had were clearly attempts by social-climbers to ingratiate themselves with the inner circle.

Then one day, at the close of a grueling but ultimately successful trade negotiation with a neighboring kingdom, one of the diplomats approached you. A provision you fought for in the agreement greatly benefited his family, he explained, and he wanted to show his gratitude in the form of a gift. You had only advocated for what you thought was the best outcome, but you were flattered nonetheless. He assured you that the gift would arrive at the castle in a few days.

You did not think much of it until you were summoned from your chambers to the portion of the stables where deliveries were usually received. Two knights stood on either side of a towering man, his hooded head bowed in submission and his hands tied before him. He wore simple, black garments that did little to hide his muscular build. 

It did not occur to you that the man might be your ‘gift’ until one of the knights introduced himself as an emissary from the kingdom you’d negotiated with. He explained that this man was a foreign warrior captured during a recent conflict who was spared due to his exceptional martial prowess. He had evidently spent several weeks in a cell as they tried to figure out if he could be trusted to fight alongside the very knights that had captured him. It was decided that gifting him to an ally was the safest option, especially when the grateful diplomat from the negotiations noticed that you didn’t have a pet of your own.

At first you were so shocked you didn’t know what to think. Never, not in a million years, would a man with such a formidable appearance look twice at someone as homely as you. The most you’d ever received from men this attractive was a polite nod in the corridor. Your old conviction that taking a pet would be cruel crept into your mind.

But looking at the most perfect human being you’d ever seen, even with a mask obscuring his face, desire overcame you. You accepted the gift and were handed the ropes attached to his wrists.

In your chambers, you undid his bindings and went to remove his facial covering. He tugged it back down and shook his head in a panicked no. “Don’t worry,” you told him gently, holding up your hands and backing away. “You can keep it. I just want you to be comfortable, here.”

You learned a lot about your new pet over the next few days. The first was that he did not speak your language, though you suspected that even if he did, he wouldn’t be the talkative type. He seemed to understand you well enough when you showed him around the castle and gave simple instructions, but offered little in the way of reactions. Still, his soulful blue eyes spoke volumes to you. You could tell he was intelligent, observing and absorbing everything around him, even if he declined your many invitations to share his thoughts. It took less than 24 hours for you to become completely besotted with him.

On the second day, he asked you brokenly if you were the Queen. You laughed, finding his ignorance of the hierarchy adorable, and explained that you were only a noble. “But if I were the queen,” you told him sweetly, taking his hand in yours, “I would make you my king.” You weren’t sure if he understood you, but the pink blush that swept beneath his blue eyes made your heart swell.

You were desperate to learn more about your darling pet. He wouldn’t tell you his name, but you did succeed in figuring out that the language he spoke was German. With a little help from the court interpreters, you learned a few phrases so you could communicate with him and resolved to continue your study of the language. He was shocked when you casually tossed him a “Guten Tag,” and then nearly fainted when you began referring to him as “mein König.” Eventually, you dropped the article and he simply became König.

Your favorite pastime quickly became pampering and doting on your precious pet. Everything about his shy demeanor delighted you. He did not seem to mind that you babbled at him incessantly, explaining different aspects of your job as you went about the day. He let you hold his hand when you walked him from place to place, and though you desperately wanted to perch yourself in his lap, you only allowed yourself to sit thigh-to-thigh with one arm curled around his bicep.

The inner circle got used to seeing König with you everywhere - at meetings, during each meal, and accompanying you on your evening promenades in the garden. Most were happy that you’d finally found a pet for yourself; a few balked at the absurdity of you allowing the man to continue to wear his mask, or that you were the one feeding him grapes rather than the other way around. Their opinions did not concern you. In a matter of weeks, König had become your entire world. Every day you grew more and more devoted to him.

For his part, König remained largely a mystery, as your efforts to chip away at his shell were slow to bear fruit. You were so pleased the first time you heard him chuckle at one of your wry comments, and occasionally he would oblige your requests to teach you words in his language. Your original assumption that he was the quiet sort proved valid, but you were learning that he didn’t always need words to communicate.

The relationship between nobles and their pets tended to have a sexual component, although not always. Some were very blatant about it, bringing pets on leashes to the Queen’s parties or fondling each other in the courtyard. Although you felt supremely comfortable with König in all other regards, this was the one aspect that gave you pause. 

You desired him immensely. It was well within your rights as his mistress to demand favors of him, but it was impossible for you to discard from your mind the chasm of difference between your appearances. He was a mighty warrior with striking blue eyes and a body that was aesthetic as it was adept. Back in his kingdom - Osterreich, he’d told you - before his capture, surely he bedded many beautiful women, or perhaps even had his own pets. And who greeted you each morning in your looking glass? A munter with an unprepossessing face, blotchy complexion, and pudginess under her chin and arms rather than hips and breasts. Any sexual encounter between the two of you would deeply disappoint and perhaps even disgust him.

Yet as the days wore on, your resolve began to crumble. König slept in a pile of furs in front of your fireplace, which he insisted was all he wanted, and you weren’t sure if that was because he was repulsed by the idea of sleeping beside you or because his large frame would not fit comfortably on the mattress. You began to invite him to your bed each night, only to have him politely decline. It became a ritual as you continued to ask, even knowing what his answer would be. He did start sleeping without his mask, though, which you took as a sign of trust. You were unsurprised to find he had a rugged appeal, with thick brows and defined cheekbones.

One night, when it was dreadfully cold outside, you convinced him that you needed his body heat. It was under this pretense that he finally joined you in bed, his enormous body crammed as far away from you as possible at the edge of the mattress. You boldly slung an arm over his side and rested your hand on his stomach, assuming the position of the littlest big-spoon in the castle. König stiffened, but did not push you away.

By degrees, you moved your hand down his body and began to plant little kisses on the back of his neck. He did not react at all, which you considered much better than outright rejection. When your fingers finally brushed his cock, you released a sigh you had been holding practically since you met and told him how beautiful he was. You stroked him over his trousers and eventually reached beneath them to pump him properly. All the while you whispered sweet things in his ear. “You are like a rare gem,” you said as you pressed your chest against his back. “Since I met you, I’m happier than I’ve ever been,” you confessed as you sucked on the freckled skin between his neck and his shoulder. “Hung like a king, too, huh?” you teased as you swiped your thumb over his cockhead.

He came with a whimper that wedged itself firmly between your legs.

“Stay here,” you commanded, retrieving a cloth from your washbasin. He had not moved an inch when you returned, his eyes squeezed shut, taking in shuddering breaths. You gingerly cleaned him off and discarded the rag, placing a gentle kiss on his forehead. “Sleep for me, now, alright?” You settled back to your side of the bed and, though you were pulsing with lust, managed to calm yourself enough to drift off.

Things were normal between you the next day, to your immense relief. Thrilled at the progress you’d made, you decided not to push your luck until another cold front swept through and provided you with an excuse. But that night, you noticed König lingering by his furs as you brushed your hair. On a whim, you asked if he wanted to join you in bed and he nodded with no complaint. You repeated an exact performance of last night, relishing the feel of his warm, heavy member in your hand, and cleaned him up just as before. Night after night this continued, until you were brave enough to grind yourself against his body to achieve orgasm yourself. Neither of you ever spoke openly about the arrangement, or made any effort to move these encounters into daylight hours.

But as the winter finally melted into spring, something began to change. König, of course, remained loyal and steadfast, following you everywhere and acquiescing to any request or suggestion you put forth. No, it was you who changed. As your obsession with him grew into something you might call love, you could no longer ignore the guilt weighing down your heart. König was too magnificent to be forced to spend his days with someone so ugly that you could not even face him as you came together. Melancholy began to overtake you as you gradually distanced yourself from your pet. König seemed to notice, but never asked you about it directly.

As flowers began to bloom on the trees in the courtyard, you contrived a plan that would put the power in König’s hands for the first time since he arrived half a year ago.

When your pet returned from his trip to the baths that evening, he found you sitting in your chamber with one of the court interpreters at your side and a mahogany box in your lap. You gestured for him to sit on the bed, which he did cautiously. You had not wished to invite a third party, but it was necessary to prevent miscommunication.

“König. You have truly become the sun around which my world revolves,” you told him, the interpreter translating your words quietly. “I have grown to love you so much that it pains me to keep you bound here as a pet, when you deserve to be treated as a king. I want to give you a choice about your future.”

You handed over the box and gestured that he should open it. Inside were three silk cloths: one red, one white, and one golden.

“I can offer you three paths. The first is a complete separation from my life and this castle. I will renounce my ownership of you, give you as much coin as possible without alerting our chamberlain, and secure a horse. You can start a new life for yourself, in Osterreich or elsewhere, without fear that I will pursue you.

“The second path is to remain as we are, mistress and pet, living here in the castle.

“The third path is an offer of marriage. I cannot make you a king, but I can elevate your status to that of a noble and provide a good life for you here in the castle. We will live as equals in luxury for the rest of our days. All I would ask in return is fidelity.”

König remained stoic throughout your speech, his eyes trained intently on you as the interpreter shared your words. His mask, as usual, hid any indication of what he was thinking.

“Tonight, I have made alternative sleeping arrangements for myself so you may have these chambers. When I return in the morning, I will look on my pillow to see which cloth you have left to signal your choice. The red cloth means you want to sever ties with me. White means you wish to remain as we are. With the golden cloth, you accept my marriage proposal.”

He furrowed his brow, beginning to speak to the interpreter, but you held up a hand. “Please take the night to consider,” you insisted. “I will honor whatever you choose. Do you understand?”

König looked at you for a long time, glancing just once down to the box in his hands. Finally, he nodded his head.

“Good.” You got to your feet as did the interpreter. You’d paid him handsomely for his silence on this very personal matter. “I wish you a peaceful night, König. I look forward to your answer tomorrow.”

Sleep evaded you as you agonized over what the sunrise would bring. On the balcony in one of the guest wings, you stared at the starry sky until your eyes blurred with tears.

When the church bells finally signaled morning’s arrival, you walked down the corridor to your room and opened the door.

There on your pillow lay a red, silk cloth.

===

Click here for Part 2.

Thank you for reading! You can read my other much longer Konig x Reader fic here. 💘

[the-californicationist]

[wirelessmousegirl]

You're just saying that because your a sick pervert who gets off to themes and ideas