prince shinji 1

archer sits protectively over shinji, tentacles wrapped around him. it’s been three days since the eggs left his body and he still feels ravaged. breathing heavily, shinji winces as he sits up onto his elbows, testing his strength. looking woozy, he buckles and his head comes back to rest in archer’s lap. there’s concern and affection in his expression as he gently strokes down the side of shinji’s face.

“don’t hurt yourself. take your time.”

he thinks that anyone who carried that many eggs and then laid them successfully ought to be exhausted. archer dutifully placed them in the swamp, pining for them as soon as he was done. his instinct told him that they needed to hatch there, and he barely registered the difference between his monster brain and his human one. it was just a deep, pulling emotion.

archer enjoys the feeling of shinji resting against him, happy for the closeness and the ability to provide him with comfort. his prince has been through so much, and as his advisor archer feels compelled to protect him from harm no matter what. it’s an emotion that both sides of his mind can agree on.

tentacles slide delicately around shinji’s torso and he flinches at the sensation of cold dampness against tender, abused skin. his tense body relaxes within moments, however, finding the overall texture pleasing. shinji inhales sharply before releasing a low, satisfied whine from behind clenched teeth. archer smiles softly and admires him, from his scrunched brow to his trembling legs. it’s been difficult for shinji to find comfort in the last few days, so seeing him react to his tentacles’ doting is a welcome sight. he brings one of shinji’s arms up and close to him, delicately kissing the back of his hand to his fingertips.

in the back of his head, however, he can’t stop thinking about the shinji of a few days past. the shinji that was round and stuffed full of eggs, writhing cutely in front of him. the shinji that sobbed weakly as he pushed them from his body.

he misses that shinji.
most truthfully, he wishes that he had been the one to create him.

there was no questioning caring for him after being ravaged by another creature, but he couldn’t help but wonder what his prince would look like full of eggs all his own. would he look just as beautiful, or perhaps, even more lovely? his human brain was horrified at these thoughts he couldn’t help but harbor, but the outrage became softer and softer, until it couldn’t be heard at all. drowned out by lust and greed and possessiveness. overtaken by feral based need.

the prince was empty now and archer deeply missed the curve of his fertile appearing form.

the prince was his now, after all.
it was only fair that he would get the opportunity to leave his mark proper.

the monster brain has silenced his human thoughts. he feels hot. this need that burns in his body won’t be satisfied until shinji is carrying a brood of his own creation. this is one thing he can be sure of. a low growl escapes his throat as tentacles lovingly wrap themselves tighter around his legs and waist. shinji moans his name softly, warning archer that these lightning bolt sensations will push him over the edge. his body had not lost the sensitivity from when he carried the eggs of his attacker. archer silently thanks his prince for this small miracle.

a tentacle slides over shinji’s exposed thighs, leaving a clear trail of fluid against milky, pristine skin. he trembles, arching his back and whining as the shredded muscle of his abdomen is pulled. the pain is so sudden that he fails to notice the tapered edge of the culprit is probing him, curiously wiggling it’s way inside his body. shinji moans in disgust with himself at the lack of resistance, cringing at the thought of him being loose and wrecked forever. he doesn’t fight as the tentacle plunges deeper within him with ease, left only to groan in discomfort and shame. he stutters archer’s name and is only answered by gentle hands stroking through his hair. the tentacle inside him pumps back and forth, sliding just enough to create a friction that shakes the prince down to his core. he grunts, trembling and straining against what feels like walls of pure muscle holding him down.

shinji had hoped that when he and archer consummated their relationship it would be different than this. not on the ground of a humid swamp, with his wrecked form unable to move properly. truthfully, archer had hoped for the same until animal instinct overwhelmed his senses. he strokes shinji’s face delicately, telling him to relax.

shinji wants to trust him, so he does. his confusion is slowly fading, though he wishes he could stay in denial a little longer. the truth of the matter was that this was entirely his fault. he’s the one who turned archer into this creature, and even though it was an accident, the prince is learning quickly what it means to experience consequences. he throws his head back and cries out as the tentacle explores him dangerously deep, and he worries that what he fears is happening is in fact, happening.

it isn’t long before shinji is met with a pressure at his entrance and he whimpers, knowing what is coming next. a collection of cries, both shocked and aroused fill the air as what are undeniably eggs press into him, stretching him wide and familiar, making him feel well used. he can feel the pop of them leaving the ovipositor and settling to collect within his gut. the prince has started to cry, his tears a stark contrast to his hardening dick.

tentacles are writhing around his body as archer steadily pumps eggs into his prince. though the stretch is painful, every other action feels soft and loving. shinji knows that archer has been trying to control his feral, monster impulses. he’s done so well to hold back that he thinks he ought to have expected something like this. he glances down with morbid curiosity as slimy tentacles affectionately caress his abdomen. he clenches his teeth as he realizes he’s not yet near capacity. if the last few weeks have taught him anything, it’s that he has the ability to hold many more eggs than this. the pressure gradually increases and he can feel his skin stretch, though not yet to something that feels familiar.

hands travel down and against the dirty, long button down shirt that archer gave shinji to wear. through the thin cotton fabric his fingers knead against his puffy chest, exploring the small breasts the chemicals in his body allowed him to develop. his animalistic senses tell him to rub enthusiastically and encourage their growth. if their children need nourishment, then it will be up to shinji to provide. he  moans under these eager ministrations and the ever-growing pressure in his gut, feeling like an inhuman creature himself. he’s rock solid, straining against the fabric of the shirt that covers him down to his thighs and staining it with a smear of pre-cum. he can no longer deny his arousal, which leads him to question if he’s actually enjoying this. the more full he becomes, he feels a sense of ownership being placed over him, covering him like a warm blanket.

if archer wants him to carry his eggs, then he must really love him, right?

if archer wants him to carry his eggs, then as his boyfriend, he should oblige, right?

shinji has never been in a relationship before, but perhaps if you accidentally turn your beloved into a monster then you ought to let him fill you with his eggs.

or maybe that was just the boner talking.

the curve of the prince’s middle was straining against his shirt buttons, leaving their threads to snap and the buttons to carelessly fall to the ground. he whines and chews at his bottom lip as he feels himself at his limit and then some. the gush of warm liquid that follows fills the spaces between the eggs and makes shinji’s eyes roll back as they shift into a new placement that makes his insides itch for any sort of satisfied sensation. he comes with a pitiful yell, no longer restrained by fabric.

he feels overfilled. stretched. round.

the burning pull of his skin isn’t exactly a great feeling, but it does feel like something of a welcome home. the moment he thinks that he doesn’t necessarily hate it is the moment that he wonders if he’s too far gone.

somehow it feels good to be claimed. shifting uncomfortably against archer’s affectionate tentacles, he cries out when the ovipositor finally leaves his body, exiting with a spurt of cum coating his inner thighs and dripping generously onto the ground. a moan so low and lewd is pulled out of the prince that he knows immediately he’ll never be normal again. archer looks down at him fondly, holding him with all of his appendages and his arms draped over him. he rests his chin on the top of shinji’s head to admire his handiwork.

“you’re beautiful. look at you.”

he sighs, feeling his carnal, monster instincts slowly quiet and mingle with his human brain, creating a smooth haze. guilt twinges in his chest, but seeing shinji  lying against him in what appears to be fucked out bliss does well to encourage his pride.

“please forgive me, my prince. i had to make a mark on you all of my own.”

shinji groans in response, aching and sore, but also finding comfort in the familiar feeling of being full. maybe it’s fine being stuffed to his limit with archer’s eggs. maybe this time will be different. his breathing is shallow and all of his bruised organs are being pushed into once again. he shivers as eggs settle and brush against one another, each silent clack he feels deep in his gut sending a spark of electricity up his spine.

pressing kisses to the top of shinji’s head, against sweaty, matted hair, archer mumbles “I love you”s and “you’re mine”. at least for now, archer’s monster brain will be part of him. shinji is coming to accept that. until his overly worried, hovering archer returns to him, he will have to make do. if it’s archer, then he’ll love it. that’s his resolve.

as he lies there with him, heavy with eggs, he takes as much comfort in that as he can. he’s been starved for archer’s affections for so long that he will accept anything that he can get.