Work Text:
Why didn’t it work?
“No! Wait-“ Derek says, sweat beading as his forehead, the darkness of the great hall suddenly weighing on him like a millstone around his neck. He said it. He said the spell! It should’ve invited the King, no, Hastur, into his mind, his consciousness. Hastur should be sucked into Derek’s impure, defiled soul. He is the defective sacrifice. And yet… Hastur’s eyes bore down on him, mockingly. “Why isn’t it working?” Derek yells, anguished. His voice rings out in the chamber, the details of which, now, are made painfully obvious to him. As the echoes of his cries fly into space, he sees it. This is a church. This is a church, and he is a defective sacrifice offered to an unwilling god.
“You fool.”
“No,” Derek says, holding onto hope. “Even if it doesn’t work, there’s nothing you can do! Avery is safe. I told him to leave. I told him to get away from you, so even if you-“
“I fabricated the truth. I gave you false hope.” And for once, the voice laughs. It is harsh and cruel, and yet so full in the hollowness of this bleak church, so belonging to the darkness that shade its infinitely high spires. No. This is a lie. The King has to be bluffing. Had he missed something? In his eagerness to save Avery, had he forgotten something? No, he couldn’t have. He knows the future. He should win. Every point of analysis he’s compounded so far led to this conclusion. The clone. The purity. The desolate, abandoned villages. Hastur dies if he enters a corrupted vessel, unless…
“Ah,” The eyes that surround him speak again. “It seems you understand.”
“You’re lying. It can’t be. I was with him the whole time, I-“
“Not all.” The King says. “Not all,” He repeats, the eyes starting to diminish until only one singular pupil juts out in the darkness. “All I required was for him to utter the words once.”
Derek’s mind races. He craves, needs to believe that Hastur is lying, that this is all an elaborate way to get him to give up, needs to believe that Avery is safe and sound and enjoying his New Year with his family. But he could’ve said it. Avery could’ve said the incantation under his breath upon reading the lectern. Avery could’ve been to the village in the void first. Avery could’ve even spoken it upon arriving at the church by the walled gate.
“It is over, Derek.” The voice says somberly. “A lord is doomed to submit to a king.” With that, cold, dark tendrils from the void spring up and wrap around each of Derek’s limbs. They secrete a cloudy, milky liquid almost oil-like in texture. He is forced to his knees, wrists bound together. He leans forward, as far as possible, pulling at his arms with all his strength, but Hastur is stronger. Hastur is smarter. Derek could not have hoped to defeat him from the start.
“I suppose I must thank you.” The eyeball suspended in the middle of the darkness floats closer to where Derek is bound, until he is an inch from the wet, slimy surface, and can see every vein and streak of color its pupils, and the absolute absence of life in its iris. Slowly, starting from the back, it decomposes into dark grey particles that swallow the entire eye to reveal a void. It is nearly seven feet long and jagged at the edges. Darkness bleeds out of it, like a knife had been taken to the fabric of reality. Through the void, Derek senses what he can only describe as infinity characteristic of an eldritch being incomprehensible to the human eye. The universe, over and over, in every timeline, in every possible manner. “Caught in your desperation to save him, you led him to me. Avery is a perfect, willing vessel; the likes of which I have not seen since the dawn of time. Unmarred by corruption. Unmarred by sin. All too willing to be a lamb to the slaughter, to sacrifice himself for you.”
“What?
“Oh, Derek.” The void speaks, feigning concern. “Your greatest failure was coming here, yet his greatest failure was loving you. In minutes, I will bring the vessel here, and we will combine.” Hastur recites somberly. “To show you my appreciation, I shall allow you to watch.”
“Just kill me.” Derek spits out. “Dying would be better.”
“Ah, how selfish. Must you not look after that which has pursued you to the very end?” Light shines upon a road that leads to the platform upon which Derek is restrained. Faintly, he is reminded of an altar. In the distance, just as restrained as him, he can spot that floral shirt and nervous, green eyes. Avery. Derek’s heart aches. Avery is going to die, and Avery will die because of him. It is all his fault. He looks away. He can’t bear to watch Avery take his place. What will his face look like? Will it be full of contempt, of anger, or will it be empty and heartbroken? Derek would rather die than see it, Hastur doesn’t even let him have that.
“It’s over, Derek.” Tendrils the size of his finger pinch his eyelids and force them up. “You must watch.”
“Avery!” Derek cries out as a last resort. “I’m so sorry, please, please!” He tries to speak, but his mouth is gagged shut by a thicker tendril across it. He’s probably out of earshot anyways, because Avery doesn’t so much as react. Or maybe he’s dutifully ignoring Derek. Avery is brought to the center of the platform and made to lay down on his back. He chews his bottom lip, fidgeting with his fingers. His wrists are bound together. He doesn’t resist as the tendrils make their way to his body, prodding, inspecting him like a piece of meat. The picture perfect offering. A lamb to the slaughter.
That is why Derek is so surprised when instead of seeing a dead body next, he first sees Avery’s naked one.
“Oh, my,” The King purrs as his tendrils rip off first, the floral shirt, then those tight khaki shorts, and then the boxes underneath. The void he possesses seems almost invigorated, slowly growing limbs. A leg first, an arm after. It doesn’t bother to give him a face, nor does it even try to shape any distinguishing features. The King is all bodies at once, all future possibilities in one. “How delightful.”
Tendrils shoot out to spiral around Avery’s chest, secreting the same milky fluid across his nipples. One is more methodical, coiling around his puffy little chest, while the other flails around his skin, smearing it all over. Avery looks away, humiliated, but the tendrils don’t stop. Another, thicker one slithers around his waist, before sinking to circle around his thigh. At the tip, instead of a pointed end, something more akin to a suction, pulses. It has no teeth, only a tongue and determined, rubbery lips. It sucks circular red bruises onto the inside of Avery’s thighs, working their way up to his flopping, wet cock. Still soft, it is tiny, and could nest comfortably in Derek’s palm. Another tendril, with the same suction at the end drools over it, covering the flushed, pink cock with more milky fluid. It dribbles down his shaft, past his balls, and onto the tight pucker of his ass. It tenses up in fear as one of the tendrils swallow his cock whole. The suction’s tongue is long and swirls around the balls. Here, Avery starts to squirm against his constraints, frantically trying to buck his hips away. All it accomplishes is smaller tendrils zipping to his nipples, milking him like a cow. He sobs, his poor little chest being pulled in opposite directions,
“Stop!” Derek yells from where he stands, utterly helpless. “Stop, I’ll do anything, stop! Take me instead!”
“If you are that interested in joining him, then I suppose I cannot stop you.” The tendrils that had been holding Derek further away now tug him right next to Avery. They let go of him, and his first instinct is to run to Avery, falling to his knees by his side, caressing his cheek. It is cold and clammy from fear. Rage seeps through Derek’s body.
“Derek… what are you doing here?” Avery says, suddenly shocked. “Hastur, this isn’t what we agreed, You promised! You promised you’d spare him, so please, don’t-“
“Silence!” The King’s voice booms across the dark hall. “He is alive and well. Be at ease. The transformation is underway.”
“What transformation?” Derek snarls.
“Fool. Even the most perfect vessel requires change to optimize reception.” The King says. “Perhaps it would be better to show, and not tell.”
The tendrils pull away from Avery’s body, revealing new, puffy breasts and even worse: a tight, pink pussy. Tufts of peach fuzz run across the swollen lips already dripping arousal, and a pink clit like a bead pokes out at the top. Horror overcomes Derek, but he is glued to the spot. The King rubs circles around Avery’s swollen button clit and spreads the folds of his pussy with a tendrils.
"I feel weird…" Avery whimpers. "Why am I wet?”
Avery squeaks and clenches his toes as Hastur gives him a severe pussy paddling. He repeats the action, smacking his vulva with a tendril so large that it covers it completely. Smack. Strings of arousal flow across Avery’s thighs in rivers as they collapse beneath their own weight. Avery squeals as the King slaps his pussy over and over again, until he can't tell where his cunt ends and his ass starts. He writhes helplessly, trying to reach for Derek, wiggling his legs aimlessly in search of any kind of footing. He doesn't really have to. The sting continues, three fingers slammed into his cunt, pulled out to deliver a slap, repeat. Avery is close to tears by the end of it, snot dribbling out of his nose. His breathing is labored, and what once was his hips struggling away from the touch has turned into an almost reluctant bucking into the tendrils that torture his new cunt.
Horrifyingly, Derek finds that he is hard.
“The aphrodisiac should be working its way into your veins, now.” The King speaks. “It should be preparing your virgin, perfect body to receive me.” At the end of his sentence, his shadowy form summons a cock out of nothing. It is large, as huge as Avery’s forearm, and is more detailed than the rest of the King’s wispy body. Avery huffs as the arousal works its way through his veins. He’s more ditzy now, almost incapable of truly perceiving much else but the heat in between his thighs screaming to be addressed. When the tendrils recede, he clamps his thighs together, unknowingly using the pressure against his bits to grind some hard-earned relief out. “Nnn…” He whimpers, shuffling back until his head is by Derek’s knee. “I’m… I don’t… I’m a virgin, please… I… oh!” Avery exclaims as he feels the King’s cock nudge in between his thighs, pressing fatly against his defenseless cunt. It lines up perfectly against the slit, wedging those pussy lips apart and slicking against the hole and pushing in. Hastur’s dick stretches Avery’s cunt so open it disgusts Derek. The moan Avery lets out is visceral, more of pain than anything else at the moment, before then turning into that of ecstasy as the King starts pistoning into him. Hastur pulses another sharp thrust to Avery’s oversensitive cunt. His new, puffy boytits wobble with each punch to his guts. Even in the dim light, Derek can see it, a bulge fucking into Avery’s new womb with visceral vigor.
“I shall sire child within you; through your body, I shall become a father.”
“Yes, daddy.” Avery conceeds, whimpering as his tight little button clit gets crushed against Hastur’s pelvis, his peach fuzz doing nothing to stop the entity’s vigorous, dedicated thrusts into his new womb. His mind is going nowhere, drowning in the extent of knowledge flowing into him and his body. He holds onto Derek’s hands tightly, crying, whimpering as Hastur’s cock splits his much smaller body open.
“Father,” Hastur corrects.
“Daddy,” Avery repeats, as Hastur grabs his legs and sheaths his cock deep into his pussy.
“You shall call me Father, and that is it!” Hastur’s form snarls, striking Avery across the cheek. Red blooms across his flesh, and Avery sniffles.
“Don’t fucking hurt him!” Derek growls, reaching out to strike back all the same, only for a dark tendril to shoot out and curl around his wrist tightly. He tugs at it, trying to escape its grip, but the King is much stronger than either of them combined. He gets the message: stay still.
Avery doesn’t, however. His mind is in a haze, overdosed on feral, inhuman amounts of knowledge being pumped into him each second. He can barely think straight. Drool runs down the side of his mouth before being smeared all over his cheek and neck. His wrists are tied in front of him, hands trembling with fear. He’s scared. Even Derek can see that much. Avery is scared, and going through with this, because he doesn’t want Derek to die. Avery is trembling, rubbing against Derek’s lap, against the boner he’d formed.
“Fuck my mouth.”
“What?”
“Fuck my mouth.”
“Wait, no, Avery-“ Derek says, but Avery’s already pressing his lips to his abdomen and pulling down the hem of his pants with his teeth. Derek’s cock springs out, slapping Avery disrespectfully in the face. “Avery, I-“
“Oh, just shut him up already,” Hastur groans. “Fuck his mouth and cease his incessant words for father.”
“Please, Daddy…” Avery whimpers, already slurping at the underside of Derek’s cock. “I wanted you first.” He kisses the tip, licking the leaking slit gently, before kissing down to his balls, taking one in his mouth and swirling it around, before popping it out and repeating it on the other one. His eyes are dazed, staring up at Derek for approval. He grinds his floppy, soft boy-ish tits against Derek’s knees, pink nipples squashed against the pressure.
“Where did you learn this?” The King scoffs, punctuating his words with an even harsher thrust. “Are you not a virgin, as promised?”
“No! No, I am, I promise!” He returns his gaze to Derek. “I just want to make Derek feel good too, please, Daddy!”
Hastur grunts, irritated. “Fuck his ass instead, Derek.”
“Wait, what?” He says, shocked. The King growls as his thrusts pick up in pace. “His bottom will be more receptable to pleasure than his cunt, as I gave him a womb, but not all the necessary nerves to derive pleasure from them. He still has a prostate. Silence him, and I will let you two leave unharmed.”
Reluctantly, Derek’s fingers fumble blindly for Avery’s pucker. He massages it gently, trying to make it as easy as possible for Avery, but Avery is downright desperate. He grinds right back onto Derek’s touch, pulsing open and closed just for him. “Put it in, put it in-“ he urges, as he is hoisted up onto Derek’s lap. He makes a concerted effort to try and push against Derek’s cock. Derek can’t take it anymore. Without warning, he slides in. Avery squeals from the sensation of Derek sinking into him inch by inch, his words blending together. Derek's single hand on his waist restrains him all too easily as he thrashes around in delight. He can feel Hastur’s gigantic dick on the other side of Avery’s internal walls pulsing in tandem with his. Avery himself is losing his mind, humping up and down on both cocks, ass gaped wide open and pussy sucking cock right in. Derek’s dick isn’t just enveloped, no, Avery gulps it down, eager to have it slop around in his slippery guts. Derek’s hands find their way to Avery’s small, puffy breasts, cupping them and toying with the nipples. When the King impregnates him, will he leak milk? Will Derek get a taste? He doesn’t even want to think about it, but he does, the thoughts almost forced onto him in the heat of the moment. Maybe it’s the aphrodisiac working on him too well.
“I am going to fill you,” Hastur announces.
“Same. Fuck.” Derek groans, as Avery doesn’t stop bouncing madly on their dicks.
“Cum inside!” He speaks up, “I can have babies, I can pop out as many for you guys, just please, please cum inside!” Avery begs, cunt and ass squeezing both of their dicks. He shouldn’t be talking like this. He shouldn’t even think of acting like this. But the begging goes on anyways, his mouth moving before his brain does. “I can pump out lots! How many do you need? Two? Three? Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop-“ The sound dies in the back of Avery’s throat as Derek and the King fuck him with renewed vigor. They jointly crush Avery’s thighs with their grip. His cunt is weeping with wetness, struggling, choking over the cock slamming through it, and his ass is hungry, wolfing down all of Derek madly. Hastur’s cock is so big that on the way out, it gets caught in his cunt, the only reason it manages to pull in and out of that pussy being the sheer force of his hips. He gasps. They both pull out fully, then shove up. Avery screams. A part of his body has been split open. What is it? His womb? He’s shaking and feels the world trembling around him. With no further words, he’s filled hotly with cum, so much so it cannot fit in his holes, and dribbles out uselessly in a puddle by his legs.
Slowly, both the King and Derek pull out, watching their cum ooze out of Avery. His ass is still tight, but his cunt is so aroused it practically drools cum, incapable of fully keeping it inside. The King scoffs. Avery’s first instinct is to cuddle up against Derek, burying his head in his chest, breathing in and out.
“It seems I have not bred you to the fullest extent.” He says, a tendril reaching out to scoop up some of the now cooling cum and circling it over Avery’s lips. “See how much is left over? We have to do something to fix that.”
As the King’s cock hardens again, Derek knows he and Avery are in for a long night.