Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/948687.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Homestuck
  Relationship:
      Grand_Highblood/Gamzee_Makara
  Character:
      Grand_Highblood, Gamzee_Makara
  Additional Tags:
      Incest, Drugging, Underage_Sex, Age_Difference, Size_Kink, Sensitive
      horns, Tentabulges, Nooks, Bulges_and_Nooks, Oral_Sex, Cunnilingus,
      Drugged_Sex, First_Time, Dubious_Consent, Biting, Bloodplay, Loss_of
      Virginity, Virgin_Sacrifice, Shota, Vaginal_Fingering, Virginity,
      Cannibalism, Gore, Blood_and_Gore, Knotting, Stomach_Bulge, Wound
      Fucking, Implied_Cannibalism
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-08-31 Updated: 2013-09-06 Chapters: 2/? Words: 5062
****** Blood Sacrifice ******
by princehadri, whytekatt
Summary
     It's the same thing every year: an (un)lucky wriggler is chosen to be
     given to the Grand Highblood to keep his favor. You never thought
     you'd be the poor bastard chosen. The rumors you've heard about him
     would fill a book...but what you've heard and what's true are two
     completely different things. Not that you care. You just don't want
     to be eaten.
***** Chapter 1 *****
Chapter by princehadri
Every year it’s the same thing. Someone around your age is sent to the Grand
Highblood as tribute. The adult trolls claim it’s to keep him calm and thank
him for his protection, but everyone - even you - knows that isn’t the truth.
It’s just plain old sacrifice.
The unlucky winner is always picked randomly out of your hemospectrum (they
dare not to send him a lower blood, nor risk the wrath of the higher bloods by
trying to take one of their wrigglers), but with how many of you there are
within the age range, it’s never been an issue.
Until you find yourself being dragged out of your hive. The same trolls who you
had always sort of looked up to have you by the arms so hard that your grey
flesh is purpling with impending bruises.
"Lemme the motherfuck go!" You dig your heels into the sand to try and slow
them down but all that manages to do is strip your bare feet raw. "I wanna go
back home!"
None of them bother talking to you as you struggle every step of the way
towards the caves. The cool stone is sweet mercy on your bleeding feet, but you
don’t notice it. You’ve spent every day of your short life avoiding this place,
like all the other trolls do. 
It strikes dread into your heart.
"In." 
The other trolls let you go and push you forwards into the mouth of the cave.
You’ve seen the tributes before. You know that there’s no point in trying to
run. There’s guards stationed in case you try to make a break for it and you
know that they aren’t going to leave just because you step inside.
“Go!”
There’s a sharp prod to your back and you reluctantly move towards certain
doom. You don’t know what the Highblood does with his sacrifices, but you’ve
heard the stories. Clothing made from skin, decorations of bone, meals of flesh
and muscle.
With every step you take into the twisting labyrinth, the light of outside
grows dimmer and your eyes shift to adjust to the flickering torchlight. All
you can hear is the echo of your own footsteps sounding off the walls. 
"What have they sent me now…?"
The unfamiliar voice sends chills of terror down your spine. You can hear him
but you can’t see him and it makes your senses strain all the more.
"Keep on walking, little mother fucker."
You do as you’re told - not out of desire to obey, but because there’s nothing
else for you to do.
A few dozen more steps down the narrow tunnel and it opens up into a small
chamber. There’s food - normal food - set out on a table in front of you, but
beyond that the room is completely empty. The sight of it makes your stomach
twist painfully with hunger. You had been dragged out of your cocoon before you
had been able to eat anything and your body has finally realized that.
"Go ahead." The voice addresses you like it can see you. A hoarse whisper
pressed against your ear. "You’re no mother fucking good to me if you’re half
starved. I’m not heartless~”
You aren’t about to argue with the Highblood and your stomach.
You throw yourself into eating with all the energy and enthusiasm that only a
wriggler of your age can possess.
"Don’t choke," He laughs, oily slick and darker than the deep nighttime waters
of the sea, "You’re not any use to me if you’re dead.” 
Wiping your mouth on the bare skin of your arm, you finish eating and glance
about the cave again.
"Onwards, little mother fucking wriggler."
This time, you are obeying. Your limbs feel pleasantly light as you walk. Your
feet don’t hurt anymore and there’s a vague fogginess in the back of your mind.
You head towards the source of the voice and down the winding tunnels until you
step into what is unmistakably a throne room. There’s a low stone table taking
up the center of the large cavern and torches on either side of the throne
itself. But you don’t even notice. All you can see is the hulking behemoth upon
the throne. His hair is wild and tangled and down to his waist from what you
can see. His horns are like your own, should yours be nearly twice their
current length. 
You can feel yourself rubbing your fingers against the edge of your own horn,
imagining how much the other’s must weigh.
What really catches your eye is two things - the size of his hands (triple
those of any adult troll you’ve ever seen) and his face itself. Dark purple
eyes are set deep in his skull, smeared makeup covering his grey skin - much
like your own does. Elongated canines rest over his lower lips and twist his
smile into something you’ve never seen before.
When he stands, it feels like the very floor shakes and you shrink down against
yourself with growing fear.
"What’re you…what’re you gonna motherfucking do?" You manage to ask, voice far
squeakier than you want. "I a-ain’t gonna be no good as a meal."
He grins widely and claps a massive hand against your small shoulder, nearly
bowling you over.
"Do I look mother fucking hungry?" 
"I…shit, I dunno. Are…you?" You have to look straight up towards the ceiling
just to see his face. "You don’t look hungry, but…”
One of the Highblood’s hands is stroking the inner side of one of your horns
and it’s making it hard to think. Claws run along the base teasingly, forming
nonsensical patterns against the deep orange.
"Not really hungry at all. Got somethin’ a little better on my think pan right
now."
You’re trying to think so that you can answer, but with the way he’s fondling
your horn it’s difficult to even remember your own name. He’s sending warm
chills down into the pit of your stomach, a deep purple flush working its way
onto your cheeks.
The Highblood’s grin is more of a leer as he ushers you back towards the throne
he only just got off of.
Your limbs are starting to feel numb and you can’t even fight as he grabs the
back of your shirt and pulls you into his lap. You can feel the lump in your
throat grow, becoming hard to swallow down. You’re shaking and you can feel him
laugh at your nervousness. It’s like an earthquake and all you can do is hold
on.
"Why are you so mother fuckin’ nervous, grub?"
There’s a million reasons you’re nervous. Or are there? Really, you can’t
remember.
"Why don’t you lay down and get comfortable."
You stare up at him for a second but his eyes are completely unreadable. Or
maybe you just aren’t so good at reading that sort of thing. He’s just watching
you without any further command so you do what he said. You’re slumped back
against the arm of the throne, head resting against the rock as you blearily
look back up at him. 
"That’s good…real good." One of his long fingered hands is crawling up your leg
and over the waistband of your pajama pants and before you know it, he’s got
your pants tugged down around your knees. "Now just keep on layin’ there like
you are like a good mirthful little fucker." 
You want to argue with him about it and you’re about to…only, the second his
clawed fingers brush against the folds of your nook, every thought in your mind
dissipates. You’d be lying if you said you’d never put your hand down your
pants before but this is different. You’ve never done quite what he’s doing.
One of the tips of his fingers push into you and you can’t help the cry of
objection that springs to your lips.
"That won’t do you no mother fucking good." He grins against your neck and you
can feel pointed fangs brushing over your exposed throat. You’re reminded of
your impending fate, but his fingers rubbing against your crotch are
distracting you.
"D-Don’t eat me," You whine as he practically flips you around with one hand so
that you’re sitting in his lap and facing him. You’re forced to stare up into
his gleaming eyes for that second and you can feel the growing terror coursing
through you.
"Why not?" The Highblood’s grin widens and he pushes you down so that your head
is against his knees, shoulders supporting your weight as he lifts you up by
your hips. Your shirt has fallen over your face and you can’t see what’s going
on.
"Hold still."
Your legs are moved by a single large hand, pulling them around either side of
his neck. You’re utterly exposed to him and you’re glad you can’t see him - and
that he can’t see your darkly blushing face. His breath is warm against your
sensitive flesh, teasing kisses trailing down your inner thighs and making you
quiver. You’re hot with arousal and you can feel your bulge squirming,
desperate, in the cold air.
"You like that?" He chuckles. A low rumble against your leg, tongue sliding
upwards with devastating slowness. Your hips twitch just once and that’s
invitation enough for him.
His too long tongue pushes inside of your nook and you gasp harshly for air.
You’ve never gone beyond simple teasing with your own fingers, always too
nervous to push them inside yourself. Your attention has always focused more on
your bulge, slick and sensitive enough to bring you to a climax in no time. The
tongue within you is like nothing else you’ve ever felt. He can tell, by the
smirk that you can see when you peek up from around the edge of your shirt.
"What a cooperative little mother fucker they sent me this time…” The
Highblood’s tongue licks over your bulge and he pulls back with a wild grin.
“So how ‘bout I see just how good you are.”
He gets up too quickly and you fall onto the unforgiving stone of the chair in
a heap, your hips still rocking needily.
"Bend over. Knees on the ground."
It’s all you can do to obey, chest and cheek alike pressed against the throne. 
Something like a coo rumbles forth from his broad chest while he looks you
over. His impossibly large hand rubs over your ass leisurely, spreading you and
grazing his thumb over your entrance. You tense up and he laughs, hands
dropping lower to tug at the lips of your nook.
"Don’t worry…I ain’t interested in that right this second." You can hear the
soft shuffle of fabric and then the sound of his pants hitting the ground. “You
fuckin’ move and I’ll rip your throat out.”
Immediately, you freeze and he laughs at you while something prods at your
nook. Both his hands are on your ass so it has to be…
"Motherfuck!" You yelp in surprise and anger as the tip of his bulge presses
into you, twisting within your very insides. It coils and pushes and withdraws
slowly and you can feel it trying to spread you open.
"How ‘bout some miracles, boy?" He’s leaning over you, broad chest pressed
against your back and he slowly moves his hips to work his bulge further into
you. "You’re mirthful tight…you done this before, or did they sent me a little
mother fucker who’s new to this?”
You don’t answer. You’re too distracted by the way that his bulge is pushing
you open and pressing against your inner walls.
"Think you can take the rest of it?"
The rest?
You lift your head and twist sharply to look back at him - or more
specifically, his hips.
His bulge is bigger than you had imagined. It’s long and thick; about as big
around as your forearm at its average width. But that isn’t what you’re
stricken speechless by.
At the base of the coiling appendage is a knot that rivals your clenched fist.
The Highblood’s gaze follows yours and when he sees what you’re staring at, he
barks out a laugh. “You gonna be a good little bulge licker and take that for
me?” Thumbs press against your nook, pulling your wet folds further apart so
that he can wiggle another inch into you. 
“You ain’t gonna fit, forget about that motherfucker!”
"Not yet, sure…" You can hear him grinning as he grinds slowly against you. The
length of his bulge that isn’t pushing inside your nook is rubbing against the
cleft of your ass, seeking out any friction that it can get. "You just need a
little practice."
The ache of your nook isn’t enough to distract you from the sudden pain in the
back of your neck and when you feel warmth trickling down over your throat and
his tongue over your skin, you tense. He really is going to fucking eat you.
The thought of your blood over his lips is enough to make you lightheaded.
You’ve only ever heard of cannibals. You’ve never met one.
His bulge twists within you, the tip of it flicking against your insides and
pushing insistently against you. You’re confused by the change in pace until a
moan warbles forth from your lips, high pitched and sharp. You’re (nearly)
seeing stars between the pain and the bizarre pleasure that you’re getting from
the pressure inside you. 
One of his hands strokes over your bulge, squeezing it and rubbing his thumb
over the length of it while it eagerly curls between his fingers with a mind of
its own. It only takes a few tugs from him coupled with the penetration before
you’re yowling out wordlessly again, not sure if you’re cursing or worshiping
your elder. 
He grunts and kisses the back of your neck, lips sticky with your purple blood.
Every thrust is an overload to your sensitive nerves that summons a ragged moan
from your raw throat. 
You’re actually thankful when he finishes, teeth fastening too hard against
your ear and biting down to the cartilage as he ruts into you. Your bruised
hips ache from where he’s held you down to use you. But he’s moved past that
now. He’s pinned you down against the throne so that you can’t do anything but
buck your hips and whimper as he reaches his climax, hips grinding against your
ass. 
"Not bad for a wriggler…might not eat you just yet."
***** Chapter 2 *****
The Grand Highblood has left you alive longer than you expected.
But then again, you didn't expect to survive the first night, let alone days
that are beginning to border on weeks. He feeds you better than your lusus ever
did. During the day he leaves you alone and to your own devices. You idle
around the labyrinth, exploring when curiosity strikes you. 
It's practically just like being back at your own hive.
Except, unlike your lusus, the Highblood shows up every evening.
And every evening you know better than to not heed the crooning summons in the
back of your mind. It's hypnotizing. You only want to obey when you hear him.
You've figured out that the food has to be drugged, because the second his
claws graze over your bare skin, you're always reduced to mewling and begging
for more. Even when he's nowhere to be found, your nook aches and your bulge is
desperate for attention. You know better than to touch. He caught you - once -
and the backs of your thighs still sting from just the thought.
But this time he doesn't call you to his respite block like he usually does.
Your feet follow his call blindly. There's an invisible chain tugging you into
his throne room. Just like the first time.
"There's my good little bitch..." A hand that's easily big enough to snap your
limbs and crush your skull caresses your cheek with surprising gentleness. The
affection is shallow at best. "You feelin' nice and mother fucking hot for me?"
"Y-Yeah..."
"You been good today, right? Upped the dosage...should be pretty wicked
unbearable by now." 
"You did do somethin' to me!" 
The Highblood just grins at you and gets up from his throne. He advances on you
like one of the undead creatures of the night that wrigglers are warned about.
You back up two steps for every one of his. The backs of your legs hit the low
stone table and you go sprawling onto your back, head cracking hard against the
unforgiving slab.
"I think you like what I did to you." 
Your head is spinning; you can't tell if it's from the drugs or from the split
on the back of your head. You don't have much time to think about this before
the larger troll has descended upon you, forcing your legs open and pinning you
down by your arms. You start to fight against him, but quickly give up. It's no
use. He's huge and could kill you with a simple move.
You lay back as his head lowers.
"See? There you go." His lips brush over your neck and you shudder. Today must
be the day. He's grown tired of you and you're done for.
His hands move for a quick moment, ripping your shirt from your body and you
tense up as you feel his lips against your skin. You whine, trying to lay
still, but that hot tongue against your stomach just makes you tense up and try
to wriggle away. "P-please!  I d-don't ... I won't taste g-good!"
But the monstrosity isn't listening.
And a hard bite to your side tells you exactly what he's thinking. Your stomach
drops and you feel your face pale. Yet, your body moves more into his touch and
mouth and your lips let out a wailed moan.
Another bite grazes against your ribs and you twitch in an attempt to arch away
from his mouth. His hand holds you firm and he uses his weight to keep you
still. He hasn't drawn blood, but the sting in your side is enough to keep you
mindful of exactly how much damage he can do.
"You still think I'm gonna up and mother fucking take a chomp on you? Smart
wriggler."
"I...I'm more useful if I ain't dead and ate!"
"Didn't say you were gonna end up 'dead and ate'. You should learn to listen a
little better."
Your head has gone light and your vision is spinning. Each breath is shallow
and coming too quickly and before you know it, you're hyperventilating while he
laughs and kisses you with lips coated in your own blood.
"N-Nonono, you said...you said!" You whimper with pain while trying to keep
your mouth away from his. Belatedly, you have enough sense to shut your eyes so
tight that you're seeing spots. 
"I haven't gone against anything I said..." The Highblood smirks and nibbles on
your side of your neck just long enough to make you tense. He moves on from
there, leaving purple lip marks on your chest and shoulder and upper arm.
He moves off of you, leaving you trembling, whimpering and on the verge of
sobbing. "I said I wouldn't kill you. But shit...are you mother fucking tasty~"
His purr makes you shake even more, trying to curl up and cover the wound his
mouth left. Touching it makes you even more light headed as a new rush of pain
washes over you, making your vision even more blurry.
You roll onto your good side, and the overwhelming feeling of sickness takes
you over. Your body jerks as you force yourself onto your hands and knees,
expelling the contents of your stomach over the side of the table - nerves and
pain finally getting the better of you.
The Grand Highblood just laughs at your weak display.
You want to get up. To try and get away and at least get back to your respite
block. To run all the way back home. But you can't even keep supporting
yourself on all fours.
"Just motherfucking k-kill me already!" You keep your arm cupped around your
injured side as you slump back down onto the table. "Just...kill me and eat me,
but get it over with!"
"Why would I want to kill you so quickly? You wouldn't taste nearly as good."
He moves to loom over you again, that large menacing smile staring you down. "I
wonder if your fear makes you taste any better." He pushes you down on to your
stomach, holding you there with one hand as his teeth rip in to your lovehandle
area, pulling away another chunk and another scream.
Trying to squirm away just makes it all hurt worse. Each movement makes every
fiber of your nerves burn with pain, blood dripping with sickening speed onto
the stone beneath you. It isn't enough to make you bleed out - or even pass out
- but the pain is worse than you had imagined.
But you had also imagined that you would be dead when he finally took that
step.
He continues to hold you down, his free hand moving over your lower body to
grasp your pants and rip them away from you as well. You give another wail and
try to twist away as you feel one of his large fingers pressing into your nook.
You'd momentarily forgotten just how hot you had been, but that dirty notion
put it back there - at least in the back of your head.
You try to kick him away, though it's quite impossible as you're on your
stomach and he's keeping you pinned. His finger works more at you, pushing
deeply and curling to feel over your insides. You whine, finally giving up and
spreading your legs. He's not going to stop and it's better to let him go on
than to risk him taking another bite out of you.
To tell the truth, you're thankful for the distraction.
The strange feeling of pleasure that you get from his wide finger stretching
your nook is almost enough to help dull the pain. It's more than enough to get
the rest of your body to comply, though. Your bulge has begun to unsheathe and
beg your captor for attention. 
"You like a little pain. I knew it." His finger pushes into you up to the
knuckle and twists within you while you squirm and gasp against the table.
"Makes me wonder what you'll mother fucking do with a little more..."
You're not sure what he means by that, but you have an idea as a second finger
presses in to you. It feels almost as wide as his bulge - but not nearly as
good. He splits his fingers, each feeling you over in a different direction. It
makes you squirm and mewl like it always has.
Your hand leaves your side and grasps at the table, trying to push more against
him.
"Didn't take you long to get over being mother fucking eaten, did it?"
His fingers slide from your nook and rub over your whole sex - teasing your
bulge before trailing and pressing at your other hole. "Let's see just how
hungry you are."
He grabs your legs, forcing you onto your back again and pulling you to the
edge of the table. You don't know when he pulled his own pants down, but
they're around his thighs and his large bulge is wiggling, inching for you. You
try to squirm away, but it's no use as he grinds up against you and he enters
you. It's already thicker than his fingers and he's not being gentle.
Your back arches as he pushes in deep, already moaning heavily as it curls and
writhes within you, inching deeper than ever before. It makes your nook ache as
it's forced to spread wide, but god, does it feel good.
You whine and chance a glance down; his knot is inching closer to you.
He's been getting you more used to his bulge but the idea of him completely
filling you is still terrifying. He's never quite managed to get it all the way
in and even just getting close to it is enough to stretch you further than you
could imagine. 
You sit up just enough to curl your body and grasp onto his horns again, your
purple blood making the bright colors muddy. 
"Gettin' a good grip? You're gonna need it." The Highblood laughs as he bows
his head to let you grab on tighter. His bulge squirms and wriggles inside your
nook as it fights its way further into you. "Be a good grub, mother
fucker...might not take another bite outta you tonight if you behave."
You whine at his threat, but only move down more on him. Better to be good and
in one piece than to end up on the dinner menu.
That's when you feel it - the head of his knot. It's spreading you even wider,
threatening to split you in half as it's trying to push into your dripping
nook.
And you want it in you. You're not sure why - perhaps it's something in the
troll's fluids, pheromones - but you want him and you want your pain is gone.
He can sense your urgency and need and - for once - he does what you want. He
pulls out just enough so that he can push deeper into you, the lips of your
nook spreading around his knot. It doesn't hurt. Not compared to the first time
he tried to force it into you. Not compared to the sluggishly bleeding teeth
marks in your side.
There's a thrill that runs through your spine as you feel the knot forced into
you. You both stop moving to take in the moment. A large grin spreads over his
face as he stares down at you. "Well done, my little wriggler bitch."
He pushes you back, laying you flat on the table once more. That's when you
notice it. His hand moves over your stomach and the bump that's risen there. As
he presses on it slightly, you feel him moving inside you and the moan that
comes from your throat is quite lude. He grabs one of your hands away from his
horns and places it over the risen dome. Under your fingers and palm, you can
feel his length curling and moving inside you. You can feel his knot growing
and keeping you locked to him as his hips grind against you.
And these feelings make you moan even louder.
His free fingers are dancing with your own slick bulge, causing them to coat in
a more translucent purple than what covers his face.
It feels good and with your nerves overly sensitive from the pain he's put you
through, it doesn't take much more to get you on edge. You lift your hips and
push against him breathlessly. It isn't enough. You're so close but you're too
damn far and you're so hot and ragged and you just want relief.
"More," the word spills from your mouth in a high pitched whine of lust and
need. You're demanding things of him. You know better but you can't control
yourself.
He laughs. His laugh rattles through your very being. Even with your demands,
he's amused. And he obliges. You feel him press deeper into you, causing the
bump in your stomach to expand. His large hands grab you, pulling you from the
table and carefully turning you over to lay you on your stomach.
He continues to hold you with his right hand, but his left moves over your
buttocks. He squeezes and grabs at your cheeks before using his palm to spread
them and prods a finger against your empty hole. You feel something wet and
cold against your backside. It causes you to shudder.
Despite the short prep and warning, you're not entirely prepared as he pushes
one of those large fingers passed the tight ring of your entrance. You let out
another cry as you push back on him, urging him deeper. He works the digit
before starting up short thrusts of his hips. His hand matches those thrusts,
filling both your nook and your ass, giving you more - as you had demanded.
With your mangled side and hip, it's hard for you to do much more than rock
back against him, but you do so eagerly. The knot has stretched you tight
around him and you can feel every pulse and coil of his bulge as he grinds
against you. 
"Can feel ya, wriggler." He purrs and presses his finger the rest of the way
into you, practically rubbing against his own bulge.
He twists more inside you, his bulge feeling every inch it can as you're locked
to him. These motions distract you from his hand moving from your back.
However, the sharp pain to your side tells you exactly where those large
fingers have run off to.
You press your forehead into the table as his finger fucks your wound, causing
it to bleed freely once again. The pain dulls and you feel his finger moving
carefully over your back. You can only guess what he's writing with his macabre
purple ink and if you counted right, it's only three letters long.
You give another whimper as his hand moves over your bleeding side and wince
away from his hand as he wipes your blood as much over your face as possible.
"Your blood is the same as mine. This way...you remember who you mother fucking
belong to."
He grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back as his pace begins up again -
slamming and grinding mirthlessly against your raw privates.
And all you can do is moan. Louder than you ever had. Your fingers scratch
against the table and you can feel your mouth dripping with blood and saliva,
enjoying the pounding the monster of a troll is giving you. The pounding that
sends your head swimming as you scream when the hot sensation fills your nook.
You scream until your body goes limp and your vision goes black, your mind on
only one thought.
The action is dirty and wasteful - but then again, why would the Grand
Highblood want to actually share genetic material with nothing but a sacrifice?
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