biotrash | BIOSHOCK KINK MEME

BIOSHOCK KINK MEME

Stars, hide your fires;
Let not light see my black and deep desires
- bioshock trash crew proverb

== A RAPTURE REMINDER: ==

PROMPTS AND FILLS WITH INFORMATION ON BURAL AT SEA 2 ARE SPOILERS.

THIS POST IS A SPOILER FREE ZONE UNTIL APRIL 27th.
PLEASE ADD ALL SPOILERY PROMPTS AND FILLS TO THIS POST UNTIL THAT TIME.

Spoilery comments to this post will be deleted, and their authors vanished in the night to volunteer in our city's fine Protector Program.

Thank you for your attention. Have a nice day!

Welcome to the Bioshock kink meme.

You can find a semi-frequently-updated list of prompts, with links and an indication of whether they've been filled, here at the index.

it is a kink meme. people anonymously (or not) request fic and pictures; other people anonymously (or not) write that fic and draw those pictures. everyone masturbates, peace is achieved.

there are two ways to take part!

1) start a new comment thread with a pairing/ship, and a kink. there's a kink masterlist here if you find yourself strapped for ideas.

2) swoop into an existing comment thread, and fill the person's request with art or writing. if someone's already filled the request, go for it anyway -- the more the merrier! if you need somewhere to upload/host images, try imgur.

there are some beautiful gems on the old kink memes. if you want an example of how this whole thing works, or you're digging for gold, look no further: on Livejournal, on Dreamwidth.

NOW GO FORTH AND MULTIPLY, MY CHILDREN

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(Writing on my phone is tough. There's too many buttons for my fat fingers. Part are short for that reason cause I have no patience. =^x^= )

Hearing those words triggered Jack's fight or flight instincts. He squirmed and brought his head back, slamming the back of his skull into what he hoped to be the artists face. There was a satisfying impact that stunned him dizzy for a moment but the loosening grip and yell told him that he had been successful in his attack.

Jack pulled his arms free and stood up immediately. His hand shot to the gun strapped to his back, fingers curling around the grip and sliding it free from its holster. He didn't want to have to shoot the man. Cohen had proved to be honest and useful if not a bit eccentric and Jack wasn't judge or jury so he could hardly reign down punishment for what he did to his fellow artists. The splicers were one thing, a pity killing, like putting down a dog. He ou it in his head that despite it being cruel, he was doing them a duty. But Cohen was sane? Could he be considered as much? He was as sane as one could be in a place like this.

During that train of though he had managed to brandish the weapon before a hand grabbed a handful of his hair. Jack had but a moment to react, barely a surprised gasp escaping him as his face was slammed brutally onto the music rack. The entire piano shook from the impact and Jack whined in pain, head spinning from the blow.

"You don't wish to be compared to a moth, do you? You wanted to be looked upon as a wasp with a deadly stinger. You look the part-" The fist in Jack's hair tightened and he yelped, voice barely carried over Cohen's words.

"-fighting, breathing, striving for life. But I've watched you while you fluttered about my nest and you are anything but... You are no wasp."

Jack shook his head. He could barely comprehend what the man was saying to him. Then again, he never really could even before he was dazed with the sudden blow. Hands were upon him and the shotgun was pried from his fingers and tossed off stage. Once unarmed, his wrists were wound tightly behind his back and silk closed around them, tying them tightly together. Jack gave his hands a testing tug and found them to be bound tightly together.

A hum came from the spliced up man behind him and gradually grew into an amused chuckle. "No, no. You are not a wasp at all but neither are you a moth. You are still growing and changing within your chrysalis. Waiting for the moment to reach metamorphosis. You'll bloom and spread your wings and they'll be ever so lovely." The sickly sweet voice continued, a hand pressing him to the closed piano lid and kept him from moving out of place.

"No."

The artist seemed put back by those sudden words as could be told by the tightening of the grip on his wrists. "What did you say?"

Jack tilted his head as best he could and aimed a glare over his shoulder. His cheek was pressed to the glossy surface to the piano as he licked his dry lips and ground out his previous words.

"I said no." The sound was low and his voice almost cracked from disuse.

Cohen went deathly silent as if assessing this turn of event before speaking again. This time his words were higher in pitch and sounded almost frantic. The same way his voice had sounded when he referred to Jack as one of those 'doubters'.

"You have the audacity to not speak and then.... Your first words uttered in my presence are a denial of mine? You think you amount to more then I? That- that you can deny me my most prized possession? My words?!"

Flinching at the tone, Jack attempted a poor excuse of shaking his head. It was hard to do, pinned to a piano.

"Doubter! Out of all the people, the supposed connoisseurs, the audience, my disciples.. You are just like them! Your just like them!!"

So, let's assume that Ryan didn't die. Perhaps after the first hit he realized how much of a slave his son had become and while it's disappointing, it has it's uses too. So he tells Jack to stop beating him and perhaps decides to use him as a way to get to 'Atlas'.

Assuming he had no idea Atlas was Fontaine, he could use Jack's affection towards him to his advantage.

Basically I want to see Ryan screwing Jack in front of the camera, knowing full well that Atlas is watching. I want Fontaine to either be pissed off, aroused or both. Jack should be tied up and please let there be biting.

*heavy breathing* I third, forth and fifth this. All my personalities agree. We need this.

Please fill this like cream in a twinkie

I just added this site to my rss reader, great stuff. Can not get enough!

This design is steller! You obviously know how to keep a reader entertained. Between your wit and your videos, I was almost moved to start my own blog (well, almost...HaHa!) Wonderful job. I really enjoyed what you had to say, and more than that, how you presented it. Too cool!

I want Jackie being fucked by Andrew and calling him daddy. She doesn't realize that hue used WYK to make her want him and be into it, but she's eager to please and wants to make him happy.

Ideally, she'd be a chubby virgin who had no clue what she was doing so that Andrew would be her first. He'ss doing this as a way to make her his girl and forget all about Atlas, her former master.

I'm really enjoying the theme/design of your website. Do you ever run into any internet browser compatibility issues? A couple of my blog readers have complained about my blog not operating correctly in Explorer but looks great in Firefox. Do you have any suggestions to help fix this issue?

Hi there! This is kind of off topic but I need some help from an established blog. Is it very difficult to set up your own blog? I'm not very techincal but I can figure things out pretty fast. I'm thinking about making my own but I'm not sure where to start. Do you have any tips or suggestions? With thanks

Hey I am so happy I found your webpage, I really found you by error, while I was looking on Yahoo for something else, Anyways I am here now and would just like to say thanks for a remarkable post and a all round entertaining blog (I also love the theme/design), I don’t have time to browse it all at the minute but I have book-marked it and also added in your RSS feeds, so when I have time I will be back to read a lot more, Please do keep up the great work.

Bonus points for plasmids! Please satisfy my need to see Cohen want to be "an expectant mama"

In this great scheme of things you receive an A just for hard work. Exactly where you actually lost us ended up being on all the specifics. You know, as the maxim goes, details make or break the argument.. And that could not be much more correct at this point. Having said that, allow me inform you just what exactly did deliver the results. The text is certainly really persuasive and this is most likely the reason why I am taking an effort in order to comment. I do not really make it a regular habit of doing that. Secondly, while I can see a leaps in logic you make, I am not necessarily confident of exactly how you seem to connect your ideas that produce your final result. For now I will, no doubt subscribe to your issue however hope in the foreseeable future you actually connect the facts much better.

Hey! This is my first visit to your blog! We are a group of volunteers and starting a new initiative in a community in the same niche. Your blog provided us useful information to work on. You have done a extraordinary job!

I really like your blog.. very nice colors & theme. Did you design this website yourself or did you hire someone to do it for you? Plz answer back as I'm looking to design my own blog and would like to know where u got this from. appreciate it

https://41.media.tumblr.com/2c02c771cb09efaa0bd2108337b41553/tumblr_noxa36FpcL1tt3vnro2_1280.jpg

Filling this an eon later since i think my art skills can pull it off better, might draw more since i still need practice (and i didnt do either request bonus points with this pic.)

I responded to the other same request higher up but ill respond to you too in case you get a message or somethin. I did an art fill for Delta/Jack. Might do more (hopefully)
https://40.media.tumblr.com/b23abaf1eeb9f63a6cf32fab7ea65aa0/tumblr_nox9jrWyMI1qgjjg5o1_1280.jpg

Oh fuck, that's even better than what I was asking for! If you do make more, please, do notify me of it!

I'm sweating bullets cause that is hot as hell~

Jack has his reasons for being a silent protagonist: shock, nothing to talk about, hiding from Splicers, shoot first and ask questions never, the usual. Atlas finds it intriguing. He wants to milk noises from Jack and as much as WYK works, the hard way is the fun way.

https://41.media.tumblr.com/43ecf189c68aeba94f4bcbaa4e3ff5cf/tumblr_np1hm8dNml1tt3vnro1_1280.jpg

Thanks for the complements!! Heres more with muffling.

I did not imagine. I am both sorry and not at all. The only thing I'm proud of is the title.

-

It starts out as a vague, offhanded request. Atlas knows Rapture more than the freak from topside. He knows people. He knows what Splicers can and will do if given the chance that Jack will never give—not willingly, at least.

Jack’s more than willing to follow a faceless voice in a decaying town where almost anything and everything wants him dead.

It’s ironic, really, how Jack places what trust he has in other man’s hands; how Atlas sits in his booth like an overseer, watching Jack through hacked cameras and speaking through static-laced radios; how he is the one telling Jack where to go, who to find, what to do.

What not to do.

Atlas supposes he can’t blame Jack. The place is underwater, broken and leaking and pooling, and Jack is only human. He barely bothers to piece Jack’s past together, from the airplane ride to how know what he’s been consuming for EVE—cigarettes, probably, if not coffee or soda.

Yeah, no, he really can’t blame Jack.

So when he sees conflict through the camera feed, the type he’s seen from the crowds he had once spoken to, the words flow casually and with feigned concern. “Look, boyo, I know you got needs, but would you kindly forget about it for now? The place here isn’t anywhere near safe.”

On the screen, Jack glances at the radio on his hip, supposing that the revolutionary leader makes sense. Atlas has more eyes around the area than Jack does and Splicers could be anywhere, from around the corners to along the ceiling. Part of him insistently remembers that he’s got a family to save.

Jack does as he’s told, pushes the polite bodily reminder to the bottom of his list of concerns, and slips his wrench into his hand as he refocuses on his mission.

-

“You all right down there?”

The question is laced with a weary post-grief tone, low and regretfully bitter. It makes Jack swallow hard and nod as reassuring as he thinks a nod can be. Shit’s gone downhill, hit the fan and wrecked the place, all in the past hour or so. He doesn’t know how many hours, but time seems to shift and stretch, constrict and collapse, depending on what’s happening.

Losing Atlas’ family in the submarine, swearing fiery vengeance on Ryan, and now Jack gasps as he gathers the components for the Lazarus Vector.

First he has to fix the trees so that he can fucking breathe, and then end the area’s lockdown.

Not impossible, but not something he can accomplish swiftly.

Jack whines at the growing pressure in his lower abdomen as he fishes off the last bottle of distilled water from a corpse. Worley Winery is watered down in more ways than their wine—the entire place is half flooded and if it were a person, Jack would empathise with it. He regrets chugging down the few bottles of wine he found, wallowing knee-deep in water to get to the Gene Bank. Booze Hound may have been useful since he has yet to find more EVE hypos, but now the extra health and EVE are biting him back.

At least he chose to deal with the bees first. He can’t imagine dealing with them and the Splicers like this.

Jack’s debate is already one-sided as he slings his shotgun over his shoulder—the place is already wrecked and ruined, everyone else is dead, and he has more than enough components for the Vector.

The radio crackles hazily before he can even pull down his fly. He freezes and awkwardly palms his hip instead, pretending to wipe his hand clean of blood or sweat. He doesn’t know how many cameras Atlas has here, and heat rises to his cheeks with embarrassment.

The voice catches his attention, still weary, still comforting in the alien world of hostiles. “Good job, boyo.” Atlas says. “Now would you kindly get the Vector crafted already? Air’s only getting thinner down here.”

Right. Jack remembers that Arcadia is the main source of oxygen in the whole of Rapture, Atlas included. He doesn’t want to think about whether anyone else has noticed the drop, either. Save himself and any allies first, then he’ll listen to his body.

As he leaves the damned place, the sloshing and splashing of water have him shivering from more than the cold.

-

Atlas rests his head against a hand, staring at the radio, then at the camera feed.

To say he has good memory is an understatement. He has to take notes, be alert, and remember his story and the right words to use. Slip ups are often met with questions, something dangerous when nosy reporters get involved. He doesn’t want to make any more mistakes by being forgetful.

So he pays attention to Jack’s actions and implied intentions, mindful of what has, is and will happen. Part of him can’t help but chuckle at Jack’s stifled desperation, can’t help but push him forward. Atlas makes a mental note not to directly tell Jack to hold it in. He can kill two birds with one stone by overriding it with a more progressive order, bringing Jack closer to Ryan and watching him squirm more.

The squirming is new. It starts small, like anything else—chewing his lip, pressing his legs together, bouncing a knee as he waits in the bathysphere to Fort Frolic. It’s almost as if Jack’s keen on impressing Atlas, or at least, not letting him down. A family has been lost, after all, and a death wish signed by Ryan himself.

Something about Fort Frolic feels as though it will be a long one. Maybe Jack will get distracted and fascinated over how a busted city even has technology besides security and transport. Maybe he’ll be fascinated that a mentally unstable artist has the ability to keep the Fort running smoothly enough.

He stares at a quiet clock in the room. Jack has been holding it back well.

Atlas smirks when he hears a groan over the radio.

It’s not meant for him, not meant to even be audible by the silent ‘saviour’. Atlas leisurely toys with his radio, fingers tracing an edge as he wonders whether to interject with concern or mockery, wonders what dignity Jack clings onto in a world like Rapture. He can’t see Jack in the bathysphere that lacks cameras, how the man whines under his breath and tries to distract himself with other activities as he waits for an appropriate situation. He shifts in his seat and drums his fingers on a knee, averting his gaze from the sole window of the bathysphere the whole time.

But if a miraculous city can break under the pressure of the sea, then so can a pent-up Jack.

And he breaks with a gasp.

His fingers, wild and weak, fumble futilely as he tries to pull down his fly and release his spilling cock, but he knows it’s too late. Jack lets out a groan—relieved, ashamed, embarrassed—as a warm, wet patch grows rapidly in his jeans, darkening and dampening the fabric. The rest of his piss spills onto the bathysphere floor when he succeeds in pulling himself out, leaving the legs of his pants relatively clean if not for the blood, water and god knows what that was already there.

Jack doesn’t notice that he’s panting until the radio hisses with static. Atlas keeps his voice levelled pretending he knows nothing, but from all that noise, he can paint a sadistic picture as it is. With a simper, he lets Jack keep his pride.

“You doing okay, lad? I don’t know how bad the Splicers back at Arcadia got you, but Fort Frolic’s bound to have supplies. Recreational area there. If it’s got food and clothes,” Atlas pauses to let the last word sink in, but only briefly, “it’s bound to have health.”

Jack swallows thickly. The radio signal gets hazier as he tries to tidy himself up, convincing himself that there’s no need to look presentable in a place of crazed people and mindless monsters. Despite it, he feels heat in his ears and cheeks. He tells himself to look for the clothes Atlas mentioned, or at least cover the stain in something more acceptable, as much as he doesn’t want to feel the wetness between his legs from anything other than seawater. Maybe blood, but that stains worse.

The bathysphere rocks and gurgles as it reaches Fort Frolic. Gripping his wrench tightly, Jack makes his way under Atlas’ amused watch and a wet patch in his jeans.

Tenenbaum's a tiny man, no more than five and a half feet tall. Fontaine likes to pin him down when they have sex, and they both get off on it. That's it. That's the prompt.

((I'm not sure if this is what you're looking for, but hopefully it works?))
Fontaine wasn’t someone who let another person fuck him, let alone control him. When he first created Atlas, first came up with the persona of the man intent on saving Rapture, he let that characteristic transfer over to Atlas as well. It wasn’t like it was a big deal. No one would think twice, or give a shit, if Atlas liked to pin down his partners. Hell, they probably expected it. People who actually want to be leaders always seemed to have control issues.
So, naturally, when Fontaine gets a good first look at the science-project turned sentient Thing, his first thoughts are of how much he’d like to fuck the boy, keep him under his control and wrapped around his little finger. Make him his pet. And boy, when he does get his chance…
Of course, it’s only a little while after watching Jack, watching him wreak havoc, that he realizes something. The Atlas he’s created specifically for Jack wouldn’t want to do that. He seemed too kind and attached to the boy, too… soft to actually hurt him. No, he’d probably want to get fucked, and hard, by Jack.
At first, the idea seems completely ridiculous, but as Atlas (he has to be Atlas now, can’t let any Fontaine bleed through at this point because otherwise things could go wrong quickly, especially since Peaches’s paranoia seemed to rub off on people) watches Jack prances about Arcadia looking for the ingredients to that goddamn Lazarus Vector, he realizes it might not be a bad idea. Give the boy a sense of control, and he’d be even more obedient and blind. And hell, if he has to, he can probably find a way to fake it.
That idea is what led to Atlas bent over a desk in one of the more-secluded offices in Hephaestus, Jack thrusting into him. Jack’s rough, rougher than he thought he might be with his precious idol. Sure, Jack always got this satisfied look in his eyes whenever he hurt and maimed and killed, but fuck, he didn’t realize it extended this far. Not until Atlas’s hair was harshly tugged as he sucked Jack off, and even then, it didn’t register until Jack, between pants, told Atlas he needed to come up with a safe word pretty soon just in case things got a little too intense.
He didn’t think he’d need it, but holy shit, the kid was really rough. Within the first minute of bending Atlas over the desk and slipping inside the other man, Jack had his left hand around Atlas’s throat, choking him hard. He was surprised at how good it felt, feeling his eyes roll back into his head as air became harder and harder to breathe. It felt so good that, without meaning to, he began to rock himself back on Jack’s cock, his ass trying to meet the other’s hips.
He didn’t even consider it strange that the kid used his left hand until he felt electricity lightly singe his neck. The noise that came out of his mouth was a noise from a goddamn animal, more-so pain than pleasure. Instantly, the electricity stopped, and the hand loosened its grip.
“I’m fine, boyo.” Atlas managed quickly, before Jack could say anything. He was more than fine, actually. His whole body felt like a live wire, and god, if it wasn’t the best sensation.
“…Are you really?”
Atlas laughed. “Yeah. Didn’t safe word on ya, did I?”
Still, Jack seemed hesitant, and fuck, Atlas wanted more, needed more.
“Would you kindly just get back to fucking me?” He spit from between gritted teeth. Fuck, if Jack didn’t keep going, he felt like he was going to lose goddamn mind. “I’ll safe word if I need it.”
That was all it took for Jack to start again, fingers tightening and the pace picking up. Atlas moaned, although he’d never admit it, as he felt the fingers dig back into the soft skin of his neck. He pushed back against Jack, willing the boy to keep going harder. Instead, Jack slowed down, almost becoming soft and gentle. He leaned over Atlas, letting his mouth briefly ghost across the other’s back before biting down hard and sucking. And fuck, if that wasn’t the greatest thing.
“Fuck,” he practically whimpered as Jack, ever so slowly and teasingly began to stroke his cock and nip at his back. Teasing was always something he could dish out but never take. It always got under his skin, made him want whatever it was more than he needed to.
“God, Jack, just…” He tried to find the right words, find the words to make Jack do exactly as he wanted. “Would you kindly just fuck me hard and don’t do this teasing bullshit?”
And just like that, Jack went from teasing to rough. The fingers tightened around his throat, nails digging into the skin and leaving marks. He felt Jack pick up the pace, and he tried to match the rhythm of his hips. He felt so wanton and needy, more-so than he ever had in his life. It was bad, so bad that he started whimpering and pleading as Jack asked him questions, called him his little slut and whore, and fuck, was his throat burning from the choking or did Jack just use the fire plasmid? He honestly wasn’t sure because as soon as he felt intense heat lick at his throat, he came hard and fast. And then promptly passed out.
When Atlas came to, he found Jack behind him, snuggling up against him. Something cool was against his throat, and when he went to wipe it, he realized it was a burn salve.
“Sorry,” Jack mumbled into Atlas’s shoulder, voice soft and sincerely apologetic. “I got a little carried away. Didn’t mean to hurt you like that.”
“You’re fine, boyo.” Atlas managed to wrasp out.
“Stopped as soon as you passed out.” He offered helpfully. The innocence within his tone made Atlas laugh softly.
“So, did ya not get off because I passed out?”
“No, I didn’t. But it’s fine. I needed to make sure you we-“ Jack is stopped by Atlas turning and putting a finger to Jack’s lips.
“Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” His voice is filled with a dark promise. “After all, ya did such a good job of taking care of me.”

Holy damn that was amazing.

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BIOSHOCK KINK MEME

Play me like a piano 2/?

Ryan/Jack/Fontaine

Re: Jack/Atlas Daddy kink, mind break, sluttybadend!Jack

Re: Jack, implanted with an ADAM slug like a sister don't ask just do it

no subject

no subject

Andrew Ryan/fem!Jack bad end: Daddy kink, slutty Jackie

no subject

no subject

no subject

Sandr Cohen/Andrew Ryan mpreg or impregnation play

no subject

no subject

no subject

jack/subject delta art fill

Re: Delta/Jack

Re: Delta/Jack

Re: Delta/Jack

Jack/Atlas, orgasm denial, edging, begging, dub/noncon

Re: Delta/Jack

forgot to say art fill in the subject

Down Where It's Wetter

Fontaine/Male!Tenenbaum, size difference

Re: Atlas/Jack, put it in Atlas

Re: Pomegranate Seeds 6/6