shocfix (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} shocfix) wrote,@ 2001-01-11 03:00:00 |
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Cupid's Arrows - R/Squid - R
I sat down to write mpreg.
I was so sure it could be done, sensitively and beautifully, and in the ship I had chosen to illuminate the nurture and tenderness involved.
But a little research soon let me down.
Let’s just say that anal conception and delivery are the least of my problems.
So, the best I can do is as follows.
Title : Cupid's Arrows
Author :shocfix
Pairing : Ron/Squid
Rating : R – to be on the safe side
Words : 1100
Warnings : well, look at the pairing and the subject. Oh, and I can’t write Hagrid’s accent. Also, mention of Ron/Lavender, plus implied Ron/Hermione, for those of you who don't like het!!!
An HBP missing-moment, set, um, shortly before Ron and Lavender finally break up.
Cupid's Arrows
****
Harry had been sitting in the dorm all evening, idly thumbing through his Potions textbook, and keeping half an eye on the Map, waiting for Ron to return from the grounds.
He’d assumed that Ron had slipped out to meet with Lavender, maybe to finally break up with her, far away from humans who could get hurt in the crossfire.
But Lavender’s dot was curled up in bed, and Ron’s was still down by the lake.
He checked again.
Hmmm.
The last time he’d looked, Ron’s dot had been wandering along the banks of the lake, but now it was motionless.
Well, he could just be sitting and admiring the sunset, or something, but Harry decided to go and check.
When he went down to the Common Room, Hermione was at their usual table, scribbling on a piece of parchment, and he tried to nonchalantly saunter across the room and out through the portrait hole, but Hermione coughed loudly.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Where are you going, Harry?” she asked. “It’s nearly curfew.”
He sighed. “Ron went out, earlier,” he said. “He’s been down by the lake an awfully long time. I just thought I’d go and check he’s OK – he hasn’t moved for a while, now.”
“Oh,” Hermione said, looking slightly flustered and standing up. “I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to,” Harry said. “He’s probably just sitting by the lake, wondering how to get rid of Lavender. You know what he said about her holding on tight.”
“Yes,” Hermione said, solemnly, shoving him through the portrait hole and hurrying along the corridor. “And I remember the rest of what he said, too.”
“What did he say?” Harry asked, running to keep up with her.
“That it was like dating the giant squid,” Hermione replied.
Harry snorted. “It was a figure of speech, Hermione,” he protested, clattering down the stairs.
“Then what is he doing down by the lake?” Hermione demanded.
Harry shook his head in amazement, but jogged after her, through the Entrance Hall and down the lawns.
It was quite dark and they would have had a hard time finding anyone, if they hadn’t known where to look.
Right on the edge of the lake, there was a shadow – far too large to be Ron, so they approached carefully, wands out.
A rhythmic, wet, slapping sound drifted to them, together with a strange moaning noise that sounded pain filled, but not frightened.
At the sound of their approach, the slapping sound stopped, and they clearly heard Ron say, “Ow, fuck!”
“Ron?” Harry called, and there was a slithering sound as the shadow melted into the lake.
They ran forward, Hermione whispering Lumos, to find Ron beached on the shore.
He was soaking wet, his hair plastered to his face.
His face was drawn, and he was obviously in some pain.
His clothes were pulled apart, his robe half-off, his shirt torn, his trousers missing.
Embedded in his flesh were what looked like the ends of many arrows.
He hissed in pain.
Harry knelt at his side, pulling Ron’s robe over his lap to cover what was – despite his pain - an impressive erection, before Hermione knelt beside him.
“Christ, what happened?” Harry gasped, lifting Ron’s head and shoulders into his arms and supporting him.
“My fault,” Ron muttered, through clenched teeth.
“We have to get you to the Hospital Wing,” Harry said desperately.
“No,” Ron gasped, “get Hagrid.”
“Ron, there are arrows all over your body, you were attacked!” Harry knew he sounded scared.
“Not attacked,” Ron said, grimacing. “Not attacked.”
Harry looked wildly at Hermione, who was staring at Ron’s bare chest, biting her lip. “Hermione?” he said. “What do we do?”
“I’ll go for Hagrid,” she said, looking dazed.
“Why Hagrid?” Harry demanded.
“Those are spermatophores,” Hermione said, reaching for Ron’s face and stroking it as he winced.
“Sperm-what?” Harry demanded.
“Packages of sperm,” she said, flushing slightly as she touched Ron’s shoulder, where three arrows – or whatever – were visible. “Certain species produce sperm in packages, like this, and inject them into the… uh… female.”
“Certain species?” Harry echoed.
“Squid, for instance,” she said faintly. “Would inject them into the tentacles of the female, rather than have what we would think of as penetrative intercourse.”
Ron’s eyes closed, possibly from pain, possibly from embarrassment.
“Squid?” Harry echoed, feeling stupid. “How d’you know this, Hermione?”
“I looked it up,” she said, rolling her eyes. “After what Ron said. Look, I’m going to tell Hagrid – it’s a Care of Magical Creatures problem, I’d say.”
Harry watched the bobbing light of her wand-tip as she walked away, round the lake, heading for Hagrid’s cottage.
He lit his own wand and absentmindedly rocked Ron in his arms, hushing him when he moaned in pain and eyeing the bulge in Ron’s lap nervously.
“The squid?” he asked, finally.
“Not now, Harry,” Ron groaned, his head tipped back against Harry’s shoulder.
Harry pushed the hair off Ron’s face and sighed.
A crashing sound heralded the arrival of Hagrid, with Hermione on his heels.
“ermione tol’ me what ‘appened,” Hagrid said, kneeling on Ron’s other side and opening a big jar of slimy jelly.
“What is that, Hagrid?” Harry asked, nervously, as Hagrid dug two fingers into the jar and scooped out a large blob of jelly.
“Uncover ‘im, Harry,” Hagrid said, ignoring him, and Harry carefully pulled back the cloak and shirt, revealing Ron’s pale, freckled flesh to the light of Hermione’s wand, held above them, plus the tails of all the spermatophores.
Thankfully, the erection had abated.
Harry risked a glance at Hermione, to find she hadn’t looked away.
Hagrid spread the gloop over a wound on Ron’s chest and watched closely. “There,” he said happily as the thing wriggled around in Ron’s flesh, before breaking though his skin again and slithering into the jelly. “Better ou’ than in, I say!”
Ron bit back a cry and Hagrid picked off the four-inch long spermatophore and dropped it in a bowl.
“Oh, Hagrid, that hurts him,” Hermione whispered.
“Nothin’ else for it, ‘ermione,” Hagrid said, spreading jelly on each of Ron’s wounds.
Harry reached for Ron’s hand and held it tightly, letting Ron squeeze it each time a spermatophore broke out of him, his other hand stroking Ron’s hair, soothingly.
Finally, it was over.
Hagrid dropped the last wriggling thing in the bowl and put the lid back on the jar.
“Right,” he said, getting to his feet. “You gonna take ‘im up to the ‘ospital?”
“No,” Hermione whispered, kneeling beside him. “We can heal him from here.”
Harry lit his wand and watched her work.
Calmly she Healed each wound, ignoring his nakedness, as Ron gazed at her with his feelings written plain on his face.
“Hagrid,” Harry asked. “What was in that jelly?”
“Ah, tha’s the jelly wha’ the female squid makes,” he said. “Always best to ‘ave some to ‘and, this time o’year. The squid orf’en gets a bit frisky.”
****
And here is the science…
Yes, the world was going to have to be ready for Squid/mpreg!Ron.
But Giant Squid don't seem to have the most romantic sex-life in the world…
The relatively long terminal organ (penis) of a mature male is almost the length of its mantle, from which it projects freely, through the funnel, for a considerable portion of the organ's length. Species with such long organs presumably use them directly to implant spermatophores hydraulically into the female, and as a rule lack modification of either ventral arm (hectocotylus) for spermatophore transfer. Architeuthis lacks a hectocotylus.
His metre-long penis presumably injects numerous spermatophores directly into the female's arms. The two animals then separate, the male swimming away, probably a bit beat up (possibly having lost parts of his arms and tentacles in the violent struggle), but none the wiser likely repeats this affair with another female (should the opportunity arise). His spermatophores remain embedded in each female's arms - possibly burrowing even deeper into their flesh.
Copulation is likely to accelerate maturity of the female. Eggs soon funnel from her large, terminally positioned ovary into long, convoluted proximal oviducts. From here they advance to the oviducal glands, structures that secrete to the egg chemicals that, amongst other things, initiate sperm activation and attraction. Passing from these glands the eggs would discharge from the distal oviduct, possibly in strings, directly into the female mantle cavity.
The nidamental glands would then secrete vast amounts of jelly, probably almost entirely filling her mantle cavity. This jelly binds with discharging eggs, and like a cement mixer, her mantle probably rhythmically contracts and relaxes, thoroughly mixing them. Shortly afterwards this mass of jelly and egg would be extruded through her funnel, and a sphere-like egg mass of ~half-a-metre in diameter would be released. This mass would then be taken into her arms where she would cradle it as it absorbed seawater and increases in size (possibly to two-or-so metres diameter).
The problem has always been how to get the sperm (embedded in the arms) to the eggs (embedded in the jelly/egg mass). One solution is proposed here.
While she cradles this mass in her arms, chemicals released from the jelly activate the spermatophores embedded into her arms. These 10-cm long parasite-like spermatophores then would migrate through her flesh to the arm surface, their ends would rupture and sperm would be discharged directly to the face of the egg mass.
Frenzied by the chemical cues given off by the eggs, the sperm migrate through the jelly to individual eggs and fertilisation ensues. The egg mass would then be released by the female and drift away in the current.
****
So, while the Squid would joyfully shoot its 10cm long spermatophores into Ron, well, he just doesn’t have the sphere-like jelly/egg mass, does he?
*needs Squid/Saint Sebastian!Ron art like whoa*
*meetsnapchic
I sat down to write mpreg.
I was so sure it could be done, sensitively and beautifully, and in the ship I had chosen to illuminate the nurture and tenderness involved.
But a little research soon let me down.
Let’s just say that anal conception and delivery are the least of my problems.
So, the best I can do is as follows.
Title : Cupid's Arrows
Author :
shocfixPairing : Ron/Squid
Rating : R – to be on the safe side
Words : 1100
Warnings : well, look at the pairing and the subject. Oh, and I can’t write Hagrid’s accent. Also, mention of Ron/Lavender, plus implied Ron/Hermione, for those of you who don't like het!!!
An HBP missing-moment, set, um, shortly before Ron and Lavender finally break up.
Cupid's Arrows
****
Harry had been sitting in the dorm all evening, idly thumbing through his Potions textbook, and keeping half an eye on the Map, waiting for Ron to return from the grounds.
He’d assumed that Ron had slipped out to meet with Lavender, maybe to finally break up with her, far away from humans who could get hurt in the crossfire.
But Lavender’s dot was curled up in bed, and Ron’s was still down by the lake.
He checked again.
Hmmm.
The last time he’d looked, Ron’s dot had been wandering along the banks of the lake, but now it was motionless.
Well, he could just be sitting and admiring the sunset, or something, but Harry decided to go and check.
When he went down to the Common Room, Hermione was at their usual table, scribbling on a piece of parchment, and he tried to nonchalantly saunter across the room and out through the portrait hole, but Hermione coughed loudly.
“Yes?” he asked.
“Where are you going, Harry?” she asked. “It’s nearly curfew.”
He sighed. “Ron went out, earlier,” he said. “He’s been down by the lake an awfully long time. I just thought I’d go and check he’s OK – he hasn’t moved for a while, now.”
“Oh,” Hermione said, looking slightly flustered and standing up. “I’ll come with you.”
“You don’t have to,” Harry said. “He’s probably just sitting by the lake, wondering how to get rid of Lavender. You know what he said about her holding on tight.”
“Yes,” Hermione said, solemnly, shoving him through the portrait hole and hurrying along the corridor. “And I remember the rest of what he said, too.”
“What did he say?” Harry asked, running to keep up with her.
“That it was like dating the giant squid,” Hermione replied.
Harry snorted. “It was a figure of speech, Hermione,” he protested, clattering down the stairs.
“Then what is he doing down by the lake?” Hermione demanded.
Harry shook his head in amazement, but jogged after her, through the Entrance Hall and down the lawns.
It was quite dark and they would have had a hard time finding anyone, if they hadn’t known where to look.
Right on the edge of the lake, there was a shadow – far too large to be Ron, so they approached carefully, wands out.
A rhythmic, wet, slapping sound drifted to them, together with a strange moaning noise that sounded pain filled, but not frightened.
At the sound of their approach, the slapping sound stopped, and they clearly heard Ron say, “Ow, fuck!”
“Ron?” Harry called, and there was a slithering sound as the shadow melted into the lake.
They ran forward, Hermione whispering Lumos, to find Ron beached on the shore.
He was soaking wet, his hair plastered to his face.
His face was drawn, and he was obviously in some pain.
His clothes were pulled apart, his robe half-off, his shirt torn, his trousers missing.
Embedded in his flesh were what looked like the ends of many arrows.
He hissed in pain.
Harry knelt at his side, pulling Ron’s robe over his lap to cover what was – despite his pain - an impressive erection, before Hermione knelt beside him.
“Christ, what happened?” Harry gasped, lifting Ron’s head and shoulders into his arms and supporting him.
“My fault,” Ron muttered, through clenched teeth.
“We have to get you to the Hospital Wing,” Harry said desperately.
“No,” Ron gasped, “get Hagrid.”
“Ron, there are arrows all over your body, you were attacked!” Harry knew he sounded scared.
“Not attacked,” Ron said, grimacing. “Not attacked.”
Harry looked wildly at Hermione, who was staring at Ron’s bare chest, biting her lip. “Hermione?” he said. “What do we do?”
“I’ll go for Hagrid,” she said, looking dazed.
“Why Hagrid?” Harry demanded.
“Those are spermatophores,” Hermione said, reaching for Ron’s face and stroking it as he winced.
“Sperm-what?” Harry demanded.
“Packages of sperm,” she said, flushing slightly as she touched Ron’s shoulder, where three arrows – or whatever – were visible. “Certain species produce sperm in packages, like this, and inject them into the… uh… female.”
“Certain species?” Harry echoed.
“Squid, for instance,” she said faintly. “Would inject them into the tentacles of the female, rather than have what we would think of as penetrative intercourse.”
Ron’s eyes closed, possibly from pain, possibly from embarrassment.
“Squid?” Harry echoed, feeling stupid. “How d’you know this, Hermione?”
“I looked it up,” she said, rolling her eyes. “After what Ron said. Look, I’m going to tell Hagrid – it’s a Care of Magical Creatures problem, I’d say.”
Harry watched the bobbing light of her wand-tip as she walked away, round the lake, heading for Hagrid’s cottage.
He lit his own wand and absentmindedly rocked Ron in his arms, hushing him when he moaned in pain and eyeing the bulge in Ron’s lap nervously.
“The squid?” he asked, finally.
“Not now, Harry,” Ron groaned, his head tipped back against Harry’s shoulder.
Harry pushed the hair off Ron’s face and sighed.
A crashing sound heralded the arrival of Hagrid, with Hermione on his heels.
“ermione tol’ me what ‘appened,” Hagrid said, kneeling on Ron’s other side and opening a big jar of slimy jelly.
“What is that, Hagrid?” Harry asked, nervously, as Hagrid dug two fingers into the jar and scooped out a large blob of jelly.
“Uncover ‘im, Harry,” Hagrid said, ignoring him, and Harry carefully pulled back the cloak and shirt, revealing Ron’s pale, freckled flesh to the light of Hermione’s wand, held above them, plus the tails of all the spermatophores.
Thankfully, the erection had abated.
Harry risked a glance at Hermione, to find she hadn’t looked away.
Hagrid spread the gloop over a wound on Ron’s chest and watched closely. “There,” he said happily as the thing wriggled around in Ron’s flesh, before breaking though his skin again and slithering into the jelly. “Better ou’ than in, I say!”
Ron bit back a cry and Hagrid picked off the four-inch long spermatophore and dropped it in a bowl.
“Oh, Hagrid, that hurts him,” Hermione whispered.
“Nothin’ else for it, ‘ermione,” Hagrid said, spreading jelly on each of Ron’s wounds.
Harry reached for Ron’s hand and held it tightly, letting Ron squeeze it each time a spermatophore broke out of him, his other hand stroking Ron’s hair, soothingly.
Finally, it was over.
Hagrid dropped the last wriggling thing in the bowl and put the lid back on the jar.
“Right,” he said, getting to his feet. “You gonna take ‘im up to the ‘ospital?”
“No,” Hermione whispered, kneeling beside him. “We can heal him from here.”
Harry lit his wand and watched her work.
Calmly she Healed each wound, ignoring his nakedness, as Ron gazed at her with his feelings written plain on his face.
“Hagrid,” Harry asked. “What was in that jelly?”
“Ah, tha’s the jelly wha’ the female squid makes,” he said. “Always best to ‘ave some to ‘and, this time o’year. The squid orf’en gets a bit frisky.”
****
And here is the science…
Yes, the world was going to have to be ready for Squid/mpreg!Ron.
But Giant Squid don't seem to have the most romantic sex-life in the world…
The relatively long terminal organ (penis) of a mature male is almost the length of its mantle, from which it projects freely, through the funnel, for a considerable portion of the organ's length. Species with such long organs presumably use them directly to implant spermatophores hydraulically into the female, and as a rule lack modification of either ventral arm (hectocotylus) for spermatophore transfer. Architeuthis lacks a hectocotylus.
His metre-long penis presumably injects numerous spermatophores directly into the female's arms. The two animals then separate, the male swimming away, probably a bit beat up (possibly having lost parts of his arms and tentacles in the violent struggle), but none the wiser likely repeats this affair with another female (should the opportunity arise). His spermatophores remain embedded in each female's arms - possibly burrowing even deeper into their flesh.
Copulation is likely to accelerate maturity of the female. Eggs soon funnel from her large, terminally positioned ovary into long, convoluted proximal oviducts. From here they advance to the oviducal glands, structures that secrete to the egg chemicals that, amongst other things, initiate sperm activation and attraction. Passing from these glands the eggs would discharge from the distal oviduct, possibly in strings, directly into the female mantle cavity.
The nidamental glands would then secrete vast amounts of jelly, probably almost entirely filling her mantle cavity. This jelly binds with discharging eggs, and like a cement mixer, her mantle probably rhythmically contracts and relaxes, thoroughly mixing them. Shortly afterwards this mass of jelly and egg would be extruded through her funnel, and a sphere-like egg mass of ~half-a-metre in diameter would be released. This mass would then be taken into her arms where she would cradle it as it absorbed seawater and increases in size (possibly to two-or-so metres diameter).
The problem has always been how to get the sperm (embedded in the arms) to the eggs (embedded in the jelly/egg mass). One solution is proposed here.
While she cradles this mass in her arms, chemicals released from the jelly activate the spermatophores embedded into her arms. These 10-cm long parasite-like spermatophores then would migrate through her flesh to the arm surface, their ends would rupture and sperm would be discharged directly to the face of the egg mass.
Frenzied by the chemical cues given off by the eggs, the sperm migrate through the jelly to individual eggs and fertilisation ensues. The egg mass would then be released by the female and drift away in the current.
****
So, while the Squid would joyfully shoot its 10cm long spermatophores into Ron, well, he just doesn’t have the sphere-like jelly/egg mass, does he?
*needs Squid/Saint Sebastian!Ron art like whoa*
*meets
napchic