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John didn’t think it was a good idea. Arthur had expected as much; John often didn’t find Arthur’s ideas particularly appealing, and unfortunately, John was right that the idea could be dangerous. Not that Arthur had to admit that to him.
“And besides, you hate cultists,” John reminded him. Images from beating the treasurer of the Freemasons nearly to death flashed through Arthur’s mind. “Why do you want their help?”
“I don’t want their help,” Arthur protested. “But we don’t have much going for us. That Witch killed me-”
“I don’t need reminding,” John said, voice hard.
“I know, I know,” Arthur said. “But the fact of the matter is, you were able to use your status as a fracture of the King to handle her. So if we can do the same with the cultists, then we might at the very least have defenders if not helpers. And if I’m going to pretend to be some prince, then having people at our back is going to be necessary.”
Arthur could feel John’s discontent at the back of his head.
“I think it’s a good idea, Master,” Yorick chimed in.
“Thank you, Yorick,” Arthur said at the same time John said, “Shut up, Yorick.”
“I don’t think it's a good idea,” John said. “It’s too dangerous.”
“What hasn’t been dangerous?” Arthur asked. “Every moment here is dangerous. Need I remind you, I died-”
“I know, Arthur, you don’t need to remind me!”
“Then what’s the problem?” Arthur said. He didn’t shout, but he was stern as he said it. “We need protection, you know that. What’s actually stopping you?”
There was a long pause and then, in a quiet, almost scared voice, “I didn’t want to be the King in Yellow to her. I only said it to scare her. I don’t… I don’t want to be the King in Yellow.”
Immediately, Arthur felt guilt sink in. “Oh, John, I… No, you’re right, I shouldn’t ask that of you. We can figure something else out, I--”
“No, no, you’re right,” John said. “I don’t like it, but if I’m going to have the name attached to me, then I might as well use it in a way that serves us. Let’s do it.”
“Are you sure?” Arthur asked.
“Yes,” John said. There was no hesitation now, and Arthur nodded.
“Alright. Let’s go. Lead the way.”
----
They didn’t have a lot of information to go on in actually locating the cult, but they were able to put their heads together and parse through the information they did have in order to figure it out. After a bit of patting themselves on the back for their deduction skills, they made a course of action.
“I think we should just waltz in, honestly,” Arthur said. “If we walk looking meek and confused, they may not even believe us. Bravado, even false, gives us an edge here.”
“I agree,” John said. “This is gonna have to be your lead then.”
“I know,” Arthur said.
“Are you ready?”
Arthur took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “As I’ll ever be.” Then he straightened himself up, chest puffed and head held high, and walked into the clearing.
John’s description was as follows:
The clearing was surrounded by a dense forest of dark wood, nearly impenetrable. In the middle of the clearing was a stone altar wreathed in gold filigree, the moon striking down on its very center so that it all shone. Around the altar was a circle of figures, robed in dark fabric and masked in similar gold. Tarnished gold, however, perhaps even pyrite. Something false in the face of the true gold of the god they worshiped.
And they all turned to Arthur. There was a particular figure in the center of all of them with the most ornate mask of any of them, its gold shining brilliantly. The leader, it looked like, the mask only covering half of their face so that their mouth was still visible, lips chapped and cracked.
The voice of the figure projected directly into Arthur’s mind, taking up space by John and Yorick. It was a whispered thing that scratched at Arthur’s mind and it took a lot for him not to flinch.
“Who are you to dare walk into our place of ritual, traveler?”
Arthur set his eyes in a stern look. “My name is Arthur Lester. I house the god you worship within me and I demand your protection.”
There were whispers, ones that existed outside of Arthur’s head.
“You claim to house the King in Yellow?” the leader asked.
“Yes,” Arthur said. “He has possessed my body and shares my flesh.”
“It’s true,” John added, hoping that the leader could hear him. “I am the King in Yellow, and I demand protection for this flesh.”
The murmurs rose at this. Could they all hear John?
“He is your Chosen?” the leader asked. They said that word-Chosen-with so much weight that Arthur couldn’t help but wonder what that really meant. He wondered if John knew. He wished he could ask.
“Yes,” John said plainly. “He is.”
“If that’s the case, we shall do as you ask, our King,” the leader said. “Under one condition.”
“You dare ask for favors?” John all but growled.
“It will not be a difficult feat,” the leader assured. “We simply must complete the ritual.”
“Ritual?” Arthur asked. “What ritual?”
“You have the ability to bear children, Arthur Lester,” the leader said. “I can smell it on you.”
Arthur couldn’t stop the flinch at that, suddenly feeling very naked in front of the crowd.
“How did you-- How could you--”
“I can see much, Arthur Lester,” the leader said. “You are capable of completing the ritual.”
“What ritual?” Arthur asked. “What ritual could possibly need--”
And then Arthur froze. Realization began to creep up on him and he prayed to a god he didn’t believe in that he was wrong.
But he was not that lucky. He could see the salacious smile creeping under the leader’s mask. “The ritual to bring about the son of the King. You are the King’s Chosen. You will bear his child.”
The leader took a step to the left and lifted an arm to gesture to the moon bathed altar. “Lay upon the altar so that the King may take you. Once the ritual is over, we will protect you and your unborn offspring.”
Arthur’s mind began to spin. He had to-- John would--
“And if we don’t?” John asked. It was clear that he was trying to keep it together but there was an edge to his voice.
“Then we’ll have to kill him so you can find a new, more willing Chosen.”
So those were their options. Fuck or die.
Not many people knew Arthur was trans. Bella had, and she had agreed to lie and say that Faroe was his so that nobody would suspect otherwise. Arthur had been rather lucky that Faroe mostly looked like Bella so nobody would question her parentage. And John knew, Arthur had told him prior to bathing one day so John wouldn’t be shocked by anything. Artur could remember how nervous he had been, but John had just taken it in stride.
“I’m a fragment of an ancient god,” John had said. “I’m not particularly concerned about your genitals.”
And Arthur had been grateful for that.
So in Arthur’s life only two people had ever known and those two people had never existed at the same time. And now, here, in the middle of the forest, a group of cultists knew too. Had looked at him, seen through him, and knew him for what he was.
And they wanted him to--
“Arthur, we-- We don’t have to--”
Arthur had never had sex before. He had tried once, with Bella, but they had stopped rather quickly. Arthur hadn’t been into it and Bella could tell.
“What choice do we have, John?” Arthur asked.
“We could-- we could leave,” John said. “We could escape--”
“They’ll kill us.” Then Arthur chuckled, a dark, resigned sound. “No, they’ll kill me. And I might stay dead this time.”
John was silent.
“Do you not want to?” Arthur asked.
“Well if it's that or you being killed, I think the former is preferable.”
“Thanks. I think that might be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Arthur.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Arthur said.
“I don’t want to force you.”
“You aren’t,” Arthur assured him. “And… I trust you. If this is what has to be done, then it shall be done.”
John was silent for a while, and then he simply said, “Ok.”
“Right,” Arthur said. He sighed and then louder said, “Right. What do we do then?”
“Disrobe,” the leader said. “You will be given an elixir that will help boost your fertility. Then you will lay upon the altar and the King will have his way with you.”
A shiver ran through Arthur at that. He wondered briefly if he should analyze that reaction, but decided he really didn’t want to.
He disrobed slowly, shivering as the cool night air hit his bare, sweaty skin. He cringed as his breasts became exposed to the onlookers and he held his legs together as tight as he could. He made sure to leave Yorick with his clothes. The idea of having that rotting skull with him commentating the entire time made his skin crawl.
Once he was naked, he could hear John suck in a breath. The sound made Arthur’s dick throb and once again, he did his best not to analyze that reaction.
A cultist approached him then, and tipped a drink to his lips. It was a bitter, herbal thing, and Arthur drank it down, eyes tight against the flavor. It made his body warm, a feeling that pooled in the pit of his stomach, desperate and wanting. And then he was led to the altar.
“You can’t move a lot when I project myself,” John reminded him.
“I know,” Arthur said. “But I already told you. I trust you.”
He laid down on the stone altar, cold against his back.
“Ready?” John asked.
“As I’ll ever be.”
“In the fell clutch of circumstances.”
And Arthur couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.
Then John was on him. He was a large, hulking thing, his body covering Arthur’s in its entirety. He was robed, much like the cultists, but his robe was a golden yellow, bright against the dark shadow of his body. His eyes were just as bright, two in the center of his face, each one surrounded by smaller ones, like an angel’s halo. A spiked crown jutted from his head, cracked and broken. A maw began to open up on his face, full of rows of sharp teeth and a long tongue darted past his lips. Under his robe, tentacles began to writhe, grabbing at Arthur’s legs. It made Arthur shudder and his dick throbbed again. He spread his legs, almost against his will, and he watched the catlike irises of John’s eyes dilate. The tentacles began to crawl up Arthur’s thighs and Arthur wondered for a moment if John even realized what he was doing but any thought he could have possibly had on the matter left his head when he saw what sat between John’s legs.
There was a slit there, and Arthur would have almost not noticed it at all if not for what was about to happen. For a moment, he wondered how this was going to work, but then something began to slither out of it. Much like the appendages that grabbed at Arthur’s legs, a writhing, black tentacle began to snake its way out of the hole between John’s legs. It moved as if seeking something and with a jolt, Arthur realized that it was seeking out his cunt. He wondered how much of this was instinct, a part of John’s biology, and how much was John himself wanting what lay before him. Arthur startled himself with the realization that he rather hoped it was more the latter than the former.
And then, after taking John in in his entirety, Arthur startled.
“Oh my god, John,” he said on an exhale. “I can see you.”
John leaned back a bit. “Wait, you can?”
He sounded nervous, almost… Shy. Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle.
“Yes, I can,” Arthur said. He took a look around and found that he still couldn’t see anything else. “Just you, though.”
John still looked nervous and Arthur shook his head, a gentle smile on his face.
“You don’t need to be nervous,” Arthur told him. “You’re beautiful.”
John seemed to startle at that and a blush rose to Arthur’s cheeks when he realized what he had said. He was about to apologize but then John leaned further over him, his mass all encompassing and intimidating, and Arthur could feel tentacles wrap around his legs, and arms, and torso. One brushed against his face and Arthur leaned into the touch, oddly comforted by it. And yet, he shouldn’t really be surprised. One of his greatest comforts in life was the voice in his head.
“Do-- How do you want--” Arthur could hear John audibly swallow, a habit he had certainly picked up from Arthur. “Do you want to just get this over with?”
John’s hips stuttered towards Arthur’s and the tentacle swiped at the head of Arthur’s dick. His whole body wracked with an embarrassing shudder at the feeling and he nearly moaned, biting down on his tongue to keep the sound from escaping.
“Well, you see--” Arthur bit back another moan as John’s dick pressed harder against his own. “I-- It’ll hurt. If you just go for it.”
John nodded. “Alright. What do you want me to do then?”
Arthur’s face burned red. He had never really had to talk to someone about sex before, let alone tell someone how to touch him.
“Can--” Arthur cleared his throat. “Can you finger me first? And go slow.”
John’s pupils blew and Arthur saw galaxies in them. He nodded and one of hands reached out to Arthur’s cunt. His fingers brushed against Arthur and he went rigid.
“Are you ok?” John asked, retracting his hand.
“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Arthur said. He couldn’t help but be embarrassed about how out of breath he was. He could feel eyes on him, even as he couldn’t see them, and he tried to focus on John’s, but that just made his stomach flip. “You can keep going.”
John nodded, but then didn’t move to do anything. Arthur almost asked if he was okay, but then John asked, “Can I kiss you?”
Arthur’s eyes widened. John sounded so nervous, and it sent Arthur’s heart into a frenzy. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, and so he nodded.
John began to lean further down, hesitant, and Arthur honestly found it cute. And then John kissed him.
It was gentle, John’s lips pressed every so lightly to Arthur’s, and Arthur made a soft sound in the back of his throat. He reached up and cupped John’s face, adding a bit of pressure to the kiss as he did so. John’s face was smooth and cool to the touch and Arthur pulled him forward, closer, kissing him harder. John made a surprised noise but gave back everything that Arthur gave him and then some. Arthur could feel something push at the bounds of his lips and Arthur opened his mouth without a second thought. John’s tongue was not unlike his dick, a long, writhing thing that made sure to taste every last bit of Arthur’s mouth. Arthur moaned against the feeling, drool sliding down his chin, and John moaned too. The sound made Arthur’s cunt throb, desperately wanting something inside of it.
Arthur fisted one hand in the back of John’s hood while the other grabbed one of his hands, the left one, pushing it down towards his hole and without another moment's hesitation, John slipped one of his fingers in. Arthur squealed into John’s mouth as it happened and he smacked the back of John’s head when he heard him chuckle. And then John crooked his finger, and Arthur squealed again.
John’s fingers were big and dextrous and the stretch of each new finger burned in the best way possible. Arthur found himself rocking back on John’s fingers, wanting them deeper.
Eventually, John broke the kiss and Arthur whimpered, finding himself chasing after John’s face. A fair of hands took hold of his head, thumbs rubbing his cheeks and Arthur was confused for a moment until he opened his eyes and realized that John had two sets of arms.
“Are you alright, Arthur?” he asked and Arthur nodded so hard he nearly became dizzy. John sounded so out of breath and Arthur wanted him to sound like that all the time.
“John, I need more, please,” Arthur begged, fucking himself hard on John’s fingers. They left him suddenly, and Arthur cried out in frustration, and then they were replaced by something far longer and thicker, smooth and slick. “Oh my god, is that--”
“It’s just a tentacle,” John said. “Not--”
“Ok.” Arthur nodded. “Ok.”
The tentacle pumped into him, far deeper than John’s fingers could go, and Arthur found himself begging for more and more. More tentacles began to join the first and Arthur found himself crying from the burn.
“Arthur, you’re bleeding--”
“That’s fine, it’s fine--”
“Are you s--”
“Please, John, please don’t stop--”
“Ok, Arthur, ok.”
There would probably be a time later where Arthur was embarrassed by how loud he was being, especially with all the people watching. But right now the idea of people watching made his skin heat up, knowing that they were seeing what was happening, knowing all these people worshiped John and yet John was doing this to him. They coveted John, but Arthur got to have him.
And he chanted John’s name, and a part of him whispered, like a prayer worthy of a God.
“Arthur, I--” John was clutching at Arthur with all four of his hands, gripping onto his torso as he fucked him. “Fuck, Arthur, I’ve wanted this.”
“Tell me,” Arthur said. “Tell me what you thought.”
“I wanted to know how it felt,” John said. “I knew it was supposed to feel good, and I wanted to know, and everytime I thought about it, I thought about you. Sometimes I would hear you say my name when you slept and I would think about you all night. And then… And then Oscar came along, and I wanted him to know you’re mine. I wanted you to myself and I thought about what would happen if I could grab you and kiss you and take you in front of him so he’d know.”
Arthur knew he should be upset. He knew that Oscar being a point of contention was a problem and that John’s jealousy was a problem that they would have to work through, but right now it just turned Arthur on further, the idea of John taking him and possessing him in front of other people that sought to covet him.
“I’m yours, John,” he found himself saying. “I’m yours, fuck.”
“I’m glad,” John said, kissing him again. “I’m glad, Arthur.”
“Fuck me, John,” Arthur said. “Complete the ritual.”
“Are you sure?” John asked. “We could trick them into thinking--”
“You want everyone to know I’m yours?” Arthur asked.
John groaned and nodded. “Yes, Arthur.”
“There is no greater way than putting a child in me,” Arthur said, and part of him was screaming at him, screaming what the fuck are you saying, you can’t be pregnant but Arthur didn’t care, too caught up in the idea of it. “Everyone will see my belly swell and they’ll know I’m yours. Come on, John, you know you want to. Don’t you?”
John let out a desperate sob. “Yes. I do.”
“Then do it,” Arthur said. “Breed me.”
Suddenly, every tentacle wrenched from Arthur’s cunt and he felt John’s hands on his hips as he thrusted his dick in. Arthur nearly screamed at the feeling. It was so much bigger than the other tentacles.
“Fuck, John. Fuck.”
“Are you ok, Arthur?”
“Yeah, why-”
And then John touched Arthur’s face, tight under one of his eyes. Only then did Arthur realize that he had been crying. He laughed.
“Yes, John,” Arthur said. “Good crying. Feels good.”
“Alright, Arthur.”
And then John began to fuck him in earnest. One set of hands held onto Arthur’s hips with a bruising grip while the other set roamed everywhere, touching every last part of Arthur’s body. Arthur could feel them on his scars, dragging and tracing.
Then another voice shot into his mind, one that made Arthur growl in contempt.
“Don’t forget the mating scar, my King,” the leader whispered. “To mark your Chosen.”
“Don’t you dare interrupt again,” John yelled back, voice rumbling. “Lest you want to face the wrath of the King in Yellow.”
The leader fell silent then, and Arthur shuddered. He should probably feel guilty about how much John flexing his title turned him on, but he figured he could cut himself some slack given how good John was railing him.
“What’s-” Arthur cleared his throat, getting some of his bearings while there was a pause. “What’s a mating mark?”
John was silent for a moment and then he said, “I have to bite your neck and scar it. To show you’re mine.”
Arthur whimpered. “Please.”
“Arthur, I-”
“I’ve been scarred to hell and back, John,” Arthur said. “Many things have made their mark on me. Give me another. Give me one I choose, from the man I love.”
John let out a shuddering breath. “Ok, Arthur.”
“Good,” Arthur said. “Thank you. Now finish what you started.”
John didn’t hesitate after that. He grabbed Arthur’s legs and threw them over his shoulders, nearly pressing his knees down into the stone beneath him, and worked himself back up into a brutal pace. Arthur’s hips burned but it was nothing compared to the feeling of John breeding him like this.
“J-John-- John, I’m--”
“Arthur, I--”
“Do it, John, please,” Arthur begged. “Breed me John, come inside me, come on.”
And then John dove down towards Arthur’s neck and bit him. Razor sharp teeth pierced his neck and it hurt, god it hurt, but it felt so good. Arthur’s cunt spasmed as he came and he screamed, begging John not to stop until he was done.
And then a deep, guttural, primordial sound ripped itself from John’s throat and Arthur felt John come. He pumped Arthur full to the brim and it spilled back out around his dick. Arthur moaned and he gripped onto John’s shoulders as he shook in his aftershocks.
“John… John…”
“Arthur--”
“John, I--”
“The ritual is complete.”
John and Arthur both whipped their heads to look at the leader and the surrounding cultists, though Arthur couldn’t actually see them. If this hadn’t been his idea to gain protection from these people, Arthur would have killed them himself for interrupting.
“You have our protection,” the leader continued. “We will keep an eye on you, and your unborn child.”
“Great,” John said. “Now leave until you have my say so.”
The cultists all bowed and made for the surrounding trees. Once they were gone, John turned back to Arthur.
“Are you, ok?” he asked.
Now that he was coming down from his high, Arthur was starting to realize how sticky and sore he was becoming. “I need to lie down flat.”
“Yes, of course.”
John slowly pulled out of him and Arthur groaned. Then John rested his legs out straight so he was lying flat on his back with his limbs splayed. Arthur sighed as the burn began to ease. For a moment, everything was silent.
“So…”
Arthur cracked open one of his eyes at the sound of John’s voice. It was a feat to do so, his lashes sticky with dried tears.
“Now what?”
Arthur was about to ask what he meant, and then everything came crashing down at once. The pain in his neck and the substance leaking from his cunt both served as reminders of what just happened. John owned him, inside and out, and what’s worse was--
“Oh my god, I might be pregnant,” Arthur said. Horror began to set in. “John. John, I--”
John immediately began to gather Arthur in his arms. Arthur began to shake, panic setting in.
“Arthur…”
“What are we going to do?” Arthur asked. “We can’t have a kid like this. What do we do if the child comes and we’re still out here? Or being chased down by some other monster? Or…” Arthur suddenly felt dizzy. “What if the King in Yellow finds out…”
“Arthur--”
“Oh god, John, I--” Arthur's eyes began to well with tears. “I can’t be a father again, John. I’d never forgive myself if something happened to our child on my watch.”
John was silent for a while, just rubbing up and down Arthur’s back as he began to cry.
And then he said, “Our child?”
The question seemed so random that it nearly knocked Arthur out of his panic. “What-- Yes, our child John, that’s kind of how it works.”
He looked up at John, whose eyes were so wide, pupils blown, that he seemed almost like he was in another world.
“What?” Arthur asked. “What is it?”
“I… I never thought…”
“Never thought what, John?”
“I don’t know… Having a child never crossed my mind,” John said. “And I’m sorry this happened, I wouldn’t want this to happen under these circumstances…”
“But?”
“But… I don’t hate the idea,” John said. “If it wasn’t happening like this… I almost… Like the idea of having a child… With you.”
Arthur blinked owlishly at that.
“I-I’m sorry,” John said. “This isn’t--. Your body is the one taking the strain and I know having another child was never supposed to be in the cards for you, I just--”
“No, John, it’s ok,” Arthur said. “If this… If this is to happen, then we’ll figure it out. Just like we figure everything out.”
John nodded. “I’m still sorry.”
“I know, John,” Arthur said. “But you don’t have to be. Those cultists wanted this of us and I…” Arthur sighed. “I asked for it, in the heat of the moment. You didn’t do anything I didn’t ask for.”
John still seemed troubled. Arthur rested a hand on his face and then leaned up to kiss him. John made a sound of surprise, but kissed him back, far slower and gentler than the kiss they shared earlier.
“I love you, John,” Arthur whispered in the centimeters between them.
John sucked in a breath. “I love you, too, Arthur.”
Arthur felt tears begin to well in his eyes again, but he was smiling this time. He leaned in to kiss John again.
“For what it’s worth, I think you will make fine fathers!”
“Shut up, Yorick!”