#dark!mahito

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𝐣𝐮𝐝𝐠𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 — 𝐦𝐚𝐡𝐢𝐭𝐨

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ this is a dark fic! smut ( minors dni ), fem!nanami’s apprentice!reader, virgin!reader, noncon, anal, body morphing ( tentacles, two dicks + some inflation too ), double anal penetration, size kink, mindbreak, bad end, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ commissioned by @beebiesworld!! do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

“Well, you gave up earlier than I anticipated,” the Curse circled you, eyeing your frame up and down like a hungry animal, a wicked grin pulling his features taut, “Such a shame. I was enjoying chasing you around, the smell of your sweat was so sweet, and you seemed so frightened. Instead of fighting me, you tried to run away; are you sure you’re really a Jujutsu Sorcerer?”

there was a faint sound, the clanging of your daggers hitting the concrete ground at your feet, but it sounded so far away. what was really loud, however, was the beating of your heart. it thumped against your eardrums, it drowned out your panting.

how?

how had he caught up with you so fast?

you hold your hands up above your head in defeat, sheepish at just how he stared at your trembling fingers. you didn’t want him to notice them, but they would’ve been impossible to overlook. “I’m… still in training…”

he gasps with an excited grin and draws closer from behind, until the very shape of his lips forming the words against your ear shifts a tendril out of place, “I see, and does your mentor know you’re here?” you want to cower away from the softness of his voice— it was taunting and cruel, but it sounded so sweet.

you shake your head instead of answering him out loud, the lump growing in your throat making it hard to speak. to say that Nanami Kento didn’t know his pupil had wanted to impress him so badly that she skirted his rules and pursued a curse much too powerful and now she was utterly fucked with no way to call for help was too damning for your lips to bring the words to them.

“No?” both hands snake around to grasp at your arms in the air, and keep them there. your muscles all go taut; your blood freezing in your veins. you remembered what Nanami had said about this curse, and his ability to manipulate the body. would he destroy you this way? you close your eyes tight, and await an excruciating death. “He must be worried about you,” the curse croons against the shell of your ear, before puckering to plant a saccharine kiss on your lobe, his body pressing against yours from behind. “That 7:3 Sorcerer.” the way he spat it, like he was drooling acid into your ear, you knew he meant Nanami. he must still be miffed that your mentor had managed to escape him by pulling a cheap shot. lithe, dangerous digits that were cold to the touch drag along your forearms at a slow pace, and he chuckles. it sends a shiver up your spine. “You must know all about me, then. And our little game we played.”

swallowing hard against the lump blocking your throat, you nod, gathering the courage to speak, even as your voice trembled. “I know… I know how you disfigure innocent people. How you torture them… just by touching them…”

“Does that scare you?” he tilts his head, resting his chin against the crook of your neck, and his hands careen around your shoulders, towards your collarbone, “Knowing that I could pull you apart and put you together again, all wrong. I could disfigure you by force, and it would be so painful your mind just might shatter from the trauma—“ though he was threatening to mutilate you, his voice was lighthearted; playful, even. a new level of malicious that you’d never known before. you knew that he could feel the ferocity of your heartbeat, because his digit tips drummed over your chest in the same, frantic rhythm before they tug at your neckline, gentle and teasing, exposing the tops of your heaving breasts. “If I wanted to.” he pokes out his lower lip in a pensive pout, “But then I wouldn’t get to hear you scream, if I turned your brain to soup right away. I shouldn’t transfigure you, should I? I should keep you together, at least long enough to have my fun…”

don’t be a coward. you wanted to tell yourself this over and over, but it was so much easier said than done. he was considering how to torture you as easily as one might consider their options for dinner. “Why are you toying with me?” your hands clench into fists, falling down at your sides once your arms started to ache, “Stop talking about it, already… if you’re going to kill me, just… do it.”

“Kill?” he sounded genuinely puzzled, and that worried you. “Did I ever say kill? I don’t want to kill you, little sorcerer.” you can feel him moving, even as he’s pressed against you, his feet slipping in between yours, kicking them apart until your legs are spread wide, and something— no, two somethings inching up under your pant legs. they felt like twin serpents, forcing their way through the threading until your bottoms were hanging in tatters against your exposed legs. “I want to ruin you.”

your eyes widen, and your gaze drops to your legs— those tentacles were the same shade of ivory that he was, and they were wrapping themselves around the hem of your panties, like fists ready to jerk them down.

you react, but not fast enough. trying to launch yourself forward, both hands flail to shove at the curse, but he’s coiled two more of those strong, thick cords around your torso, cinching your arms in their constriction. the vice knocks the breath out of you, and you would’ve fallen forward had his many extremities not tangled you up— the very tips of them form fingers, one by one, morphing into stitched hands identical to his original ones, and pull at your clothes, jerking your panties halfway down your thighs. as soon as your sex is met with the cold, damp air of the underground, he inhales deep; smelling you. “Ahhh,” he moans, and the tentacles coiled around your midriff begin to pry at your top, pulling it down, “I can’t wait to destroy you!”

your legs tremor, fighting against the inhuman strength of his organic bondage to try and close, to minimize your exploit, but you’re no match for him, not wrapped up like this. you kick your feet, and scream to be let go. but he giggles, watching you fight for your life, and lose. all the while, those many hands of his grope at you, squeezing and kneading your breasts, long fingers running laps between your folds, coaxing your sex to weep, unwillingly.

“Stop—!” you cry out, writhing hopelessly,

“Why? It seems like you like it, your little cunt is wet!”

but you couldn’t bite back the hapless whining that left your lips fast enough, surprised by the stinging sensation when a middle finger and thumb flick at your sensitive clit. “So swollen already,” he laughs, twisting you around to face him. you see now, as you’re hoisted off the ground, that those tentacles ripped his shirt so severely that it’d slipped from his body completely, leaving his rippled torso bare. he was incredibly muscular, and you hadn’t noticed until now, with his silvery tresses hanging over one shoulder, tickling his navel. the feelers winding up and down your legs spread them further into a wide split, opening you up completely, and you wince. you’d trained plenty, physical feats, but you’d never had your muscles forced this tight. “You must be a virgin, you’re so sensitive.” he hums as he steps closer, his clothed groin pressing flush against your most sensitive portion. you can feel a thick tent, hard and pulsating, just beyond the fabric, attempting to push through and get to your sex, and you mewl, shaking your head, mostly to yourself. “I almost can’t believe that 7:3 Sorcerer didn’t fuck you himself, what with how cute this pussy looks when she’s wet. He hasn’t even seen it, has he? I wonder if he wants to?”

both of his hands reach down, pressing his thumbs against your netherlips, and spreads them apart to expose your maiden entrance, his dual-hued gaze sparkling with wicked delight when you whimper a pathetic, ‘No…’ and shut your eyes tight. it wasn’t an answer to his question ( which seemed to be more of a musing than a true inquiry ), but a protest to his touch. you didn’t have to say out loud that Nanami didn’t see you in that light; he was your teacher. you looked up to him, you saw him as a second father. he wouldn’t think like that. not like this monster.

would he?

you feel pressure, unlike svelte fingers, prodding at your sex. your eyelids snap open and you stare down the sea of slithering tentacles in horror. his hands hadn’t moved, your folds still pulled back, but Mahito has rid himself of his pants and, thus, freed a thick, hard cock from its prison. with just a subtle jut of his hips, he’s able to press the bulbous head against your hole. you clench in response, trying to close completely, but his teasing is just powerful enough to stretch you back open. “Hhhnnnn,” Mahito moans, his tongue darting out to swipe along his lips, “Keep clenching, keep trying to keep me out— it makes me want to hurt you.” one of the hands growing from his many appendages reaches up to caress your cheek, which you promptly turn away from. “You’ll only scream louder when I stuff you full of three, big cocks and make that cute, little hole gape for me.”

three.

you tried not to think about that, but there was no denying the creature before you was demonic enough to conjure and do just what he threatened.

“Nanami… he’ll… come to save me…” you insist, squirming. it was a pathetic attempt to instill fear into the curse— try to scare him with what your mentor might do to him if he follows through with his demented plan.

“I hope so!” Mahito chimes, “I hope he’s on his way right now.” with one hand grasping himself at his base, he drags the engorged tip of his cock between your lips, purposefully bumping your vulnerable clit, and watches you bite your cheek to stifle a breathy sound. “He knows where to find us, and you’ll be broken in long before he makes it here, it’ll be so fun to watch him realize just how helpless I’ve made you. Now, I’ve got a tough decision to make,” thoughtful, Mahito tilts his head to one side, and then the other. you open your eyes, reluctantly, and stare down at his cock, rubbing between your folds. he catches you staring and smiles wickedly, wide, “This tight, little pussy… or…” one more swipe, and this time, his tip pressed against your hole and you braced yourself— were about to be invaded for the first time.

for only a fraction of a second.

before he pushes down on his base, sliding his tool just below your sex; it was slick and shiny with your arousal. the thick head sits flush against your anus, and you haven’t the time to protest, though you suck in a flustered breath to do so, before he plunges inside.

a jolt of pain wracks you, and you cry out, voice breaking, when he forces his way into your canal. he was merciless, instantaneous in falling into a brutal, deep rhythm. you were wincing, one eye closed right whilst the other glared daggers up at him, snorting heavy breaths through your nostrils. sealing your tiers muffled painful whimpers, but your toes still curled, your fists still tightened, in protest.

Mahito swoons, seeing how much you hate having him in your guts, and it only spurs him to fuck you harder— deeper. “Yes! That greedy, wet cunt of yours can wait; it’s much more fun stretching you out this way instead,” he’s purring, lids weighing heavily on his duo-toned eyes, “you look so cute, right now, in so much pain. My cock’s just too big for that virgin asshole of yours, isn’t it?” you nod. you knew he wouldn’t care. hell, maybe he would even find amusement in it and fuck you harder just to inflict more pain, but you answer anyways.

helpless.

pathetic.

both hands clasp against your waist, digging his thumbs against your belly to jerk you back to him each time your body lurched from the power of his thrusts. the intensity, the incessant force behind his cock barreling into your insides was all but maddening. he was right. he was too big for you, he was too rough for you. your body was struggling to keep up with all of the sensation and it overloaded your system. that must’ve been the reason you clenched around air, the reason you felt your stomach bunch up in pleasured knots. right?

you could hear the sound— your sex was dripping down over your ass cheeks, and each time the curse drove himself home, his balls smacked against them, sticking just enough to emit a sickening slap. over and over.

Mahito was panting, but you could tell he wasn’t winded because his velocity never even faltered. he pounded you relentlessly, and squeezed your waist so furious that you could swear he was about to fold you in half at the midriff, his thumbs digging into the squishy flesh. “Still a little vice,” he whined, mostly to himself, “I wanted to get another cock in you, but no matter how hard I drill you to stretch this fuckhole out enough, you still grip like crazy. Heh, let’s see if we can fix that, eh?”

“N—no—!” shaking your head, as fervent as you could muster having been fucked halfway into submission, you mewl out in protest. another cock? your stomach flipped. your body couldn’t even handle this one; surely you would split open if forced to take any more. your opposition fell on utterly deaf ears, because it wasn’t even a full moment later that you felt yourself stretch. “S—stop!” clawing at your own fists, you thrash in the tentacles’ grip; at first, it felt like he was prying you open, your battered ring yielding helplessly to the extraction, but then you could feel it on the inside. your walls were stretching. desperate to accommodate the slow-growing bulge you could see peeking against your belly button. he was inflating himself whilst balls deep in your belly, giving you no choice but to extend around him.

“There we go,” Mahito let out a breathy sigh, but never once let slowed the pistoning of his hips. he was determined to hollow you out completely, “open up, cutie. If you don’t, I might just fuck a hole right through you.”

you’d never felt so full before, and you couldn’t imagine anyone had. your body was stretched, your stomach distended in an unnatural bulge that moved, back and forth, with each merciless hip snap. you could feel every inch, thicker than humanly possible, as they pummeled your rectum. you couldn’t enjoy this. not this pain, not this cruelty.

but your pussy was still wet.

was it the never ending fucking, the constant stabbing at every, intimate nerve inside that was numbing your mind? or had you always been destined to enjoy such depravity?

no, it had to be him.

Mahito was fucking the urge to resist right out of you. with each buck of his hips, each time his balls smashed against you, you were losing a part of your brain. the will to fight back had all but dissipated. as did your hatred of the pain he inflicted.

“N— Naa—nami—“ repeating his name under your breath was the only thing keeping your brain from melting away. forcing yourself to remember that your mentor would come for you. he would save you. if you simply held on to your sanity. “H—help— me—“

“Hmm?” Mahito crooned, his tempo changing drastically for once. he was still incredibly deep, but his thrusts were torturous and slow, coaxing weakened whimpers from your lips each time he pressed his abdomen to yours, as flush to you, as deep in your ass that he could go. “You still remember that 7:3 Sorcerer’s name? Even after I’ve stuffed you to your limit?” he didn’t sound at all disappointed. he sounded… impressed. “Fine, I’ll just have to fuck you until your brain turns to mush.” grinning ear to ear, Mahito releases your stomach, leaving one hand tight on your waist, but the other flees to his groin, gripping the base of a brand new cock growing out from his pelvis. perfectly planted just above his original member, this new appendage is already throbbing and erect when it sprouts, drizzling precum over its twin and your abused hole. “You won’t even remember your own name when I shove this one inside of you. Watch!”

he was so fucking right.

your ring protested taking another, girthy intruder, but he was too strong and, in the end, your body had to give in. worming its way inside, the new cock rubs against the other, coaxing a vulgar moan from your assailant, but you didn’t hear it. this new, impossible feeling had hit a switch in your brain. both dicks bulged in your belly, pressing hard against the sensitive wall protecting your g-spot, scrubbing rough, pulsating veins against the nerves. the two sexes were roughly the same length, jabbing deep in your belly, and when he pulled back, and both withdrew before slamming home, you saw stars behind your eyelids as your head dropped back and you yowled.

Mahito must’ve had an amazing memory, because that very same fierce speed and depth returned to his rocking hips in no time, even as you hang— limp and suspended by those extremities. your mouth was agape, so your moans flowed free, but you couldn’t form any real words. you couldn’t cry for help anymore. your eyes rolled around behind twitching lids.

you didn’t remember Nanami’s name.

you didn’t remember your own.

and you couldn’t care. you couldn’t think.

his cocks seemed to be working in tandem, reaching every sensitive cluster of nerves that you had and punching them over and over, an orchestrated attack to shatter your mind. and it was working.

you felt utterly claimed, decimated. his cocks had invaded you, dominated you, broken you. and deep down you knew that, even if someone did rescue your beaten body from this devil before he crumbled it, your brain was long beyond salvation.

“Poor thing,” Mahito moaned, using his now free hand to press down against the dueling protrusions in your belly, but you only squealed louder when he did so, “you’ll never be the same after this, you know? You’ll never recover from me, and we’re not even close to being finished. This is only your ass, cutie, I’ve still got to conquer that little cunt of yours. I wonder if you’ll even hang on long enough for that, or if your body will simply give out.” but, it didn’t matter to him, not really. you knew that he wouldn’t care if you were mangled beyond repair; he’d said himself, he wanted to break you. “No,” he said, finally, within a whiny, ecstasy filled moan, and grasped your face. squeezing your cheeks together hard, he forced your chin into your chest, and kept your visage angled towards him. he didn’t care if you couldn’t see through your glassy eyes, or that you were drooling all over yourself, he cooed at the sight of your loss against him, “I’ll make sure you stay with me, at least long enough to be the prettiest, sloppiest bait for that 7:3 Sorcerer.”

he could hear you.

Nanami could hear you, panting, crying, but as he called your name, he got no response. he repeated it over and over, stampeding the corridors, following the helpless sounds of his pupil. please be okay. he didn’t say it out loud, and he didn’t have to. he was the only one there to hear it.

should he have asked for back up? of course. but, Nanami couldn’t wait for anyone else to come to the rescue, and he had a gnawing fear in his gut that he was already too late.

if Mahito had already gotten to you, then he was getting closer and closer to discovering that you had been transfigured, and he would have to put you out of your misery, and he wasn’t even sure he could do that.

his heart was racing, but as he turned the corner, he saw a crumpled figure on the ground just a short sprint away— it was you, he could tell, but he couldn’t make out much more. he barked your name, hoping to grasp your attention as he approached, but when the visage of you finally cleared, his blood ran icy in his veins.

you were on your knees, completely nude, and yet you were slumped forward with your face against the ground, cheek smushed and distorting your expression, forcing one eye closed. the other was half opened— you looked drowsy. but your thighs quivered. his gaze was immediately drawn to them, and he drew in a harsh breath.

one of your hands worked diligently between your hips, your middle two fingers thrusting deep inside of yourself. with each probe, sticky white dribbles out of your cunt and over your hand and wrist. it’s the same as the substance that oozes from your butthole as it spasms. it must’ve also matched the cocktail of cum and spit smeared across your features, and splattered on your ass cheeks and thighs. you were a complete mess, and you didn’t even seem to care.

you hardly even noticed Nanami when he approached you, still fingering yourself, gurgling moaning, your eyelids flittering. “What…” Nanami’s brows knit together, his teeth grind. “What happened to you?“ he asked, but he was already relatively certain that you wouldn’t be able to answer him. mortified, he steps closer, kneeling down with his arms extended, sleeves rolled up and ready to scoop you into his arms. “I’m going to get you out of here—“

“C—cock—“ you whimper, tongue hanging out of your mouth, and Nanami freezes. “P—please… give me… cock… fuck me… use me… h—hurt me… fff— fuck me, p—please…” sharp eyes widening ever so slightly behind his spectacles, he sews his jaw shut right when he hears that damned familiar giggling from behind him.

Mahito had appeared there, clasping his hands together with glee. “I hope you won’t be too mad at me, but I borrowed your little toy here.” he exclaims, gesturing towards the mess of what’s left of you.

when you hear his voice, you shake harder, fucking yourself more fervently with both fingers, and whimpering, “Please… please… fuck me… fuck me… fuck…”

“The only problem is,” Mahito smirks, a devious twinkle in his eye when Nanami turns around, “I think I broke her.”

[lena-after-dark]

Thinking about yandere!Mahito with a human!darling that he experiments on.

Mahito wanting to see what types of wounds will heal, and what won't.

Testing how much blood you can lose before you pass out.

Wanting to watch the infection process; to see and taste the pus.

Mahito trying to see and feel your insides. Cutting into you and sticking his fingers into the wounds. Trying to feel for your organs and bones.

Wanting to know what it sounds like when your bones snap or splinter.

He doesn't want to kill you - he just wants to play.

[f4irycafe]

thinking about sugar daddy toji who loves to go for the sweet and innocent girls. while his other ceo buddies (gojo, geto, sukuna) prefer to go for the high maintenance, hair laid, expensive ass women, toji prefers the cutie pies. he wants a tiny, pretty little baby on his arm. don’t be fooled though, while he might admire the innocent outward appearance, he likes his girls to have bite to them. he finds women he can walk all over and treat any type of way boring, and why would he spend his hard earned money on something that doesn’t entertain him. but most of all, he loves it when he gets to watch his little girls reduced to a mile of mush and cum underneath him every night as he fucks you like he wants to break you, sometimes you think he truly might. your hands are white knuckling the sheets as he rudely pounds into you from behind, his eyes locked on the way his massive cock stretches out your tiny, wheeling hole. “daddy. daddy. daddy” you chant as he his cock reaches places you didn’t even think where possible. and when he’s all finished, he loves his pretty baby curling onto his big chest as he lazily plays with your messy cunt, giving you sweet kisses as he promises to pay you 2k for each orgasm you gave him that night.

should i continue this hc w a lil fic 👀 lemme know

[bachibabe]

— 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨 𝐍𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐫 ♡

synopsis: oh no! what is a cursed spirit supposed to do when he gains interest in a mortal girl? probably not make sex dolls of her, kidnap her, then fuck her until she breaks. but no one told him that!

𖦹₊┆ mahito x fem! reader

𖦹₊┆ wc: 4.5k

𖦹₊┆ warnings: noncon, dubcon, kidnapping, sex doll, cruel and unusual punishment, mindbreak, fear play, blood, biting, marking, minimal prep, cervix bruising, dehumanization (?), creampie, mahito is gross, referring to the sex doll as if it was a real person

𖦹₊┆ notes: the fic ive been writing on and off for a month… she is my baby… i have birthed her. please please please read the warnings and enjoy <33 kms if this doesn’t show up in tags

18+ → minors / blank blogs dni

Creak.

Footsteps. Footsteps right in front of you. Right in front of your safe haven.

Please don’t stop. Please don’t stop. Please keep walking. Please. If there’s any god out there please make him keep walking.

Bang.

His fist hits the desk right above your head. Fuck. Fuck. Shit. Why the fuck did you even hide? It was dumb. So dumb. You can’t get away. Maybe if you ran, kept running forever you could get away. But you can't. Not anymore. It’s too late for any of that.

“There you are, pretty doll.” His sick smile is all you see as he leans down, coming into view. He’s crazy. He’s fucking crazy. You know that. You do.

You knew from the moment he knocked on your door in the middle of the night. Practically buzzing as he rocked on his heels. His speech was slurred, manic. He’s never spoken like that before. So. . . so crazy.

You tried to be polite, you really did. You tried to make small talk, to politely excuse yourself even though your hands were shaking.

You tried to close the door on him but it just wouldn’t shut as he kept rambling. His foot shoved in the way, preventing your escape. His dirty fucking sneakers– god even now you remember them so clearly. You remember so many things you wish you didn’t.

How he fucking smiled when you looked back up at him.

It makes your stomach churn to think about it now.

You remember clearly how he grabbed you. He forced his way inside, slowly backing you against the wall. You remember how he grabbed your wrists, talked about how tiny they were in his hands. Showed you only a moment of warmth before harshly biting into the skin, red rising to the surface, coating his tongue. A sound of pain was retched from your throat, trying to pull away while his grip only got tighter. His hips forced you into the wall, trapping you. Keeping you as prey.

He said you taste delicious.

It fucking echos in your head. Makes you go insane with how it repeats over and over again. Exactly how he said the words. The lilt in his tone, the smile that made him look like he just saw the face of god. How excited he sounded at the first taste of blood.

The way you could tell that he craved more.

Craved everything you had to give.

You didn’t think demons were real before that night. Ghosts, angels– anything that goes bump in the night was just a figment of one's imagination. Maybe hallucinations. But this, this was real. How you wish this was all just some stupid hallucination.

Nothing is paranormal before you face the devil himself.

Nothing is more terrifying than when the devil wants you.

You learned that that night.

He dragged you next door, throwing you to the ground. He looked like a shadow, only a silhouette as he stood in the doorway. The moon casting a glow from behind him. You couldn't see his face, none of it was legible as you scrambled backwards. Trying, trying so desperately to put some space between yourself and the beast.

His shoulders heaved as he panted. Like a fucking monser that just got his kill.

He had.

He closed the doors. Locked them with what felt like a million keys. He started fucking giggling. Giggling like a goddamn lunatic as his demeanor changed completely. He was smiling like an innocent little kid. He was happy. The happiest you had ever seen a person before.

“Ahhh~” He sighed, glee laced in his all too cheery tone. It was like nails on a chalkboard. Speaking, churning in your ears so it's all you can hear. It mocks you. Mocks your very being. Mocks you for trying to live a normal life away from him.

You remember how he clung to you that night as you sobbed. Whining about how you shouldnt be sad, that you were home now. He’d coo, playing with your hair as he tried to ‘soothe’ your trembling body. His arms wrapped around you in a vice. It felt like he was choking the air out of your lungs.

Maybe he was trying, maybe he wanted you dead. You really had no clue. You just wanted to get away– be as far away from him as you could. You’d do anything, you told him as much. Change your name, leave the country. You promised you wouldn’t tell anybody! You would tell him anything if it meant you could leave.

But he kept you in place. Tucked in his arms. His entire body wrapped around yours, keeping you close. Keeping his face nuzzled into your neck. Smelling you. Smelling your fear.

He loves that smell.

If you let him he would breathe it in all the time, treating it as the very thing that keeps him alive. Well, until you die anyway. But he knows that won't be anytime soon! You’re strong. You're tenacious. He knows you are. You’ve dealt with so much in your life, you can deal with him too. He just knows it.

He wonders what all of your other emotions smell like.

Hmm.. What about love? That would be an interesting smell. Maybe it would be sweet like honey? Maybe bitter like chocolate… Humans are so interesting. They're so fun.

You are especially. And he knows you’ll like him too. He’s sure of it as you finally tire yourself out, falling asleep on his beat up mattress. Mmhmm crying for hours must really hurt your soul. Poor thing. He would fix it. Fix you up all nice and pretty. Yeah, he knows just how to. His pretty experiment.

Well, he thinks that’s all you are. A nice human experiment for him to play with. To learn everything about. Learn what makes them tick, what makes them laugh, what makes them cry. Kenjaku told him as much. He could keep a little human as a pet, dispose of them when necessary. But… he doesn’t want to let you go! Just the thought makes him want to cry!

You are already better than he ever imagined!

Bang.

The chair blocking your body is thrown back, assaulting the wall with a deafening crash. Your hands come up, covering your ears. Shit Shit Shit! Fuck, what are you going to do, what are you going to do?! Your body forces itself as far as it can into the corner of the desk. All you can hear, all you can think about is the sound of your heartbeat ringing in your ears.

Why are you so dumb?! You knew you couldn’t win! You never win any of his games!

He squats in front of you, blocking your only means of escape. You hear him, watch him inhale deep before letting out a sick laugh. One that makes you want to cry. One that makes you feel like trying to run– trying to hide is useless. Maybe it is. You don’t see how you could possibly get away.

The pictures covering his walls tell you everything you need to know.

“Found you.” He smiles, crawling towards your body, crawling towards your last bit of safety. He looks like a monster– he is a monster. He can’t be human. He can’t. You refuse to believe it. Your legs kick, they try to get away. They try to be your last line of defense but his face only shows that of an owner looking at a puppy having a fit. He looks so fond of you.

You want to scream.

He grabs your ankle. It hurts. Everything hurts. You should’ve become numb at this point, you wish you had. You feel your body slip out from under the desk, dragged against the hard floor. Pick you up with ease, lay you down in his bed. His gross disgusting bed.

He pouts. He fucking pouts at you. Sits in front of you.

“Don't tell me you’re jealous.” His frowns, tilting his head at you. “I didn't mean to make you! I swear! I just wanted to show you. How much I love you…how good I could make my pretty doll feel.” You could never be jealous. Not of anything involving him.

Especially not involving the putrid fucking sex doll that lays next to you in bed.

How he fucked it last night, making you watch. Made you hold his hand while he thrust into the thing. Made you cup his face as he came inside.

“How I’ve been practicing just for you.” He coos, a smile gracing his lips as he moves to his knees, crawling towards you in the bed. “Humans are hard to understand…And I really just can’t wait for you any longer.”

You don’t hear his words. Your eyes fixated on the doll that looks just like you. Every freckle the same, every mole. Every fucking tiny detail mirrored yours in a lifeless, hollow core made of silicon. Filled up with his cum. You don’t want to think about how many times he’s fucked it. How many times he’s pretended having sex with you while holding it close. How much he had to have spent to get such a thing.

How deep whatever he feels for you runs.

You swear it probably coats his veins. Running under every inch of this skin. Giving it color. Giving it life. It's all you’re able to think about when he leaves you alone in the apartments. It’s hard for you to swallow. To believe for yourself. You wish it is a lie.

You let him get close. You let him into your bubble for only a second. You allow his face into your neck. Biting your skin, drawing blood once again. He loves the taste. You think he's probably obsessed with it. You wanted to recoil away, disgusted with how he hums, lapping at the skin. But you don’t. You need to let him have this. Even if it's just for a second.

You close your eyes tight. You feel him relax. He thinks you’re giving in. You know he does. You can do this. You can do this. You may have only made this decision a moment ago as you stared at the doll, but you had to do this. You had to do it for yourself. It may be the last chance you get. You can’t stop fighting.

You can do this. You can do this.

The mantra chants over and over again in your head like a prayer. You feel his hand reach up, covering your clothed breast with his palm. Massaging it carelessly, without any thought or respect for you. In his head you’re probably the same as that fucking sex doll.

Your knee shoots up. Right into his crotch. Right where it hurts the most. Your hands shove him with all the strength in your body, getting him off of you. Getting him away for only a moment while he recovers. Maybe. Maybe you can make it out of the door. Or maybe you can make it to the bathroom and lock yourself inside. Maybe you have a chance. Just maybe.

Your body scrambles off of the bed, moving faster than you ever thought was possible. You race towards the door, arm reaching out for the handle. You’re so close. You’re almost there. You’re almost able to get away.

Freedom is within your grasp, it's so close you can taste it. He forgot to lock the door, you know he did. You didn't hear any of them click back in place when he came inside. He was too caught up in the moment with trying to find you. If you make it there then maybe, just maybe you can get outside. Run as fast and as far away as you can. Call the police and escape from him. Spread the wings he’s tried to clip.

You land flat on your face.

Not even your arms are able to cushion your fall.

A stitched hand wraps around your ankle, pulling you, dragging you again. Backwards. Back into the cage. Back to him. His chest heaves. His shoulders hunch. He looks disheveled. Crazed.

He has that fucking smile plastered on his face.

“I love it when you run. It's so pretty.” He giggles, “You know me so well.”

You kick at him, thrash your body as he pulls you closer and closer. “Get the fuck away from me!” You yell, though it falls on deaf ears. All the strength in your body is being used to get away. To try and escape from him. He can’t be human. He’s too strong. Even with your struggle he still lifts you easily, like you’re just some fucking little kid having a temper tantrem.

“I’ve been so patient…” He sighs, placing– rather, forcing you onto the edge of the bed. Your knees on the floor as your torso is pressed against the mattress. Your arms pinned behind your back with one of his hands. Your hips pinned in place with his own. You can feel his cock against you. He’s hard. “I really am patient, you know?”

He hums, gently rocking his hips against you. His entire length pressed against your cunt. Taunting you. Words are not needed for you to know what’s to come. “It’s really too bad you know? I’ve run out.”

The simple statement makes your blood run cold.

“I’ve been so gentle…so caring…” He purrs, forcing his sweatpants down his legs. Just enough for his cock to spring free. Just enough for him to be able to stroke himself. For him to press the fat head where he wants– no, no. Needs to be. “I’ve really been trying my best to be good for you.”

You wish you could see. You wish you could see everything– exactly what he is doing. What he is planning to do to your wrecked frame. If, if everything wasn’t such a surprise then maybe… maybe you could make it a little better. But like this… you’re helpless. You’re trapped. You hate it. You can’t stand it. You wish you still had more tears left to cry. But you know it’s over. You can’t do anything now.

Exactly how he wants it– wants you.

You feel him stop moving, an excited gasp resonating from his throat. His entire presence changes in a flash, giddiness taking him over as the cogs in his brain turn. Making his own story, his own reality changing all over again. “Unless, you don't want me to be good for you? You want me to take what I want? That’s why you’ve been trying to run and hide?”

His frame towers over yours, his full weight pressing against your back forcing you deeper into the bed as he mumbles into your ear. “All you had to do was say so~ ♡”

All you can do is whimper in response. Whimper like a wounded animal that's been forced to accept their fate. Your head is blank, devoid of all thoughts and feelings. There is nothing. Nothing you can do.

Maybe he’s right.

Maybe a small part of you does like it. Who knows. You certainly don’t.

He blows gently on your ear, teasing you before he leans back. Your bottoms are forced down, exposing your cunt to the entire room. You can feel him practically buzzing with excitement. With some sick pleasure found deep within his gut.

“So pretty!” He whines, spreading your cheeks to get a full view of your pretty little cunt. You hate that you’re already wet. You hate that the feeling of his cock did it to you just moments before. You hate that he can see it. You hate the way pride bubbles up in his gut. The way you can hear him lick his lips like a starved man.

Hate what the other little voice is saying inside of your head. Hate that even maybe a little bit of your soul wants to feel him. The quiet fucked up voice that you always try to scilence.

“Mm… I wanna taste you so bad but… I really can’t wait anymore… what am I supposed to do!!” You can practically hear the pout plastered on his lips. “Ah~”

The fat head of his cock finds its way back to your cunt, dragging itself up and down your lips. Milking every last bit of wetness out of your hole. Your nails dig into your own hands— maybe his. It’s hard to tell where you stop and he begins. When he’s this close it’s hard to tell much of anything.

“We have forever together don’t we?” He chuckles, his head stopping at your unprepped little hole. Attempting to push into it with just enough pressure to have you squirm. Have you bite down on the sheet to silence any sounds that might try to come through. “We can try out all sorts of fun things together~”

His thumb aids as he tries to push the head of his cock inside. Prodding, trying to force his way inside without a care in the world for how it might hurt. How it might feel for you. He’s too big— you’re, you’re too tight. You can’t take it! It won’t fit you just, just!

“Mmmm!!” A muffled cry breaks free from your throat as the head of his cock buries itself in your cunt. Your ears ring, pain taking over your senses as he lets out a mouth watering, near pornographic moan from above you.

His grip on your wrists tighten, eyes staring at where he’s fucked himself into you. Wow~ it’s so pretty. He never expected a human to feel this good! It’s incredible! Magnificent! And this is just the first inch of him? Oh my… he can only imagine what bottoming out with feel like— how it will feel when his cock is pressed against your cervi—

Wait wait!! He’s getting ahead of himself again. A gasp leaves his throat as he pulls out, a muffled whine leaving your own. Your hole clenches around nothing. What a cute little thing! It’s calling him back in!! He knew you wanted this, he knows all about you huh?

He drags his cock back and forth through your lips again, red mixing in with the pretty white. He dips his cock head over and over again into your entrance, thrusting himself deeper and deeper every time. Stretching you just perfectly around his length.

Hmm, humans like prep right? He figures that this is close enough. His doll doesn’t need it. She just takes him right away— someday you’ll be the same! He just needs to break you in! But until then, he needs to savor this… who knows when you might come around again?

Mmm… you’re too mean to him. Yeah, that’s all it is.

Ah, it’s too bad he’s too lost to notice you’re already falling apart. Your back is arching on its own. Working without permission to give him a better angle. Your hips bucking, leaning back ever so slightly as he presses into your cunt. Urging him just a little deeper. Your pussy is too wet to think about anything, your head in a daze as he teases you, taunts you relentlessly.

You don’t want this— at least you think you don’t. But, it’s so hard to know what you really want when you’re head gets like this. When it’s actually feeling good. When the pleasure mixes with pain to concoct something dangerous. Something that makes you unsure of anything really. Maybe you’re dumb, maybe you’re stupid. Yeah. You probably are. But that’s okay. He likes that.

He likes you.

He slides his cock inside of your hole, his hand moving to your ass as thrusts his hips. Forcing his cock deeper and deeper with each stroke. Your walls clenching around every inch that pushes its way inside. God, you’ve never felt so full. You’ve never felt anything like this. Anything like his cock, anything like him.

Whimpers, whines, all sorts of sounds escape your throat as you let him do what he pleases. Give into whatever twisted pleasure is being given to you. It’s hard to stop them when he’s even louder— panting like a fucking dog as he feels you. Feels every inch of you. Makes you two become one.

He fucks into you so hard it hurts. So hard that your entire body is being pushed into the bed, spine curving up to meet him with every demonic thrust of his hips. Every time the skin of his thighs meets your ass, every time the head of his cock meets with your cervix, pain racks through your body. You can’t take it. You feel like you’re going crazy. You feel like you’re the insane one.

The sound of skin against skin penetrating the sound of your ears like some sort of sick, twisted song. A song he plays so well. One you don’t want him to stop. No matter how much it hurts, how it stings you, you just can’t find it in yourself to push him away. His moans feel like a siren’s voice, luring you closer and closer, pushing you so close to the edge.

“Why’s she so mean!” He whines, his thrusts frantic and hurried. Only caring for his own pleasure, only caring about him. “Won’t let me in any deeper doll! Can you believe that?” He groans, pressing his cock so hard against your cervix you nearly scream in pain. Your body thrashes, trying to get away from the sensation.

He shushes you quietly, leaning his torso against your back as he coos. “Shh… shh… it’s okay… we won’t try that today okay? Must be too much for you… poor thing.” His hips relent, slowly rocking into your battered cunt to give you a little bit of a break. To rest before the main event.

You want to cringe at how wet you sound, how messy you’ve become due to his cock and his cock alone. How greedily your pussy takes him, urging him back with every thrust. Wanting it. Wanting him.

You see his arm reach past your head, grabbing onto your mimics hair. Pulling the doll closer. Holding its head so it’s staring right into your eyes. It’s so lifeless. So hollow.

“It’s okay.” You can hear the smile in his voice. “Someday you’ll take me just like she can, yeah? You’ll be sooo~ good for me.” His hips start to pick up their pace again, thighs slapping against your ass so hard you might see stars. So hard you actually want to listen to him.

“I had to break her in too, real good.” He pants out, loosing himself in the feeling of your tight, warm walls.

You flinch away. You can’t look at it anymore. Can’t look at a face that is exactly your own yet so cold and distant. So lost. Used for months on end. Maybe a little sense comes back to you, a small part of reality seeping back into your skull.

He tsks. Fucking tsks and shakes his head in disappointment. “That won’t do… I need my girls to like each other…” He grabs your jaw, forcing you to look up at the thing. The creature with your hair and eyes.

“Kiss it.” His voice changes in a second, morphing into something commanding. Something scary. Fuck reality. Living in whatever dream you’ve created for yourself is better. Better than facing this. You don’t want to disobey. You want to listen, want him to let you cum. Maybe want his praise, even if it’s just a little.

Your lips meet with the cold, lifeless silicon. Tasting whatever disgusting leftover cum can be found on its lips. He pushes the head against your lips, forcing you to lick your tongue inside. “Adorable!!”

He likes it. He likes it too much. You can tell.

Tell by the way his hips pick up speed, forcing your used hole to take him over and over again. Forcing you to accept him into your body. Forcing you to fall for his cock. Make sure no one else will ever be able to use it. Use you like the way he wants to.

Can tell by the way his cock twitches, his thrusts becoming sloppy. His pace completely out the window as he searches for nothing but his own release.

Maybe you like it too. Like the way his cum tastes. Like the way he took this, took all of you for himself. All of you flesh as his. The coil tightens in your stomach, white specks start to form behind your eyelids. You’re close, too fucking close you just can’t take it anymore.

A loud moan leaves your lips, muffled by the silicon held against your mouth. Waves of pleasure crashing through your frame like a tidal wave of ecstasy as white paints the inside of your walls. Ears ringing, vision gone white as endorphins fill your brain making you forget— forget everything about this moment. How fucked up it is. How you want more.

Your walls clamp around his cock as it jerks in your cunt, milking every last drop of cum from him. Filling you up until you’re full. Until you can’t think anymore. Until you’re so tired you just want to collapse.

He drops the doll letting you pull your head back to finally be able to breathe again fully. Your frame slumps against the bed. Tired. Drained of everything it has to give.

He slowly pulls out of your abused little hole, watching the way it flutters around nothing. Watching the white mixed with red slowly drip out of it onto the rug. “Humans are such incredible little things…”

He smiles, shallowly dipping a finger inside your hole before popping it in his mouth. Just a little taste. “You did so good doll…” He pets your hair, gives you some sort of comfort after everything he’s done. It’s the least you deserve.

He moves your body into the bed with ease, pulling a blanket over your shaking form. A nap would be good right now. It’s always good to give humans at least one nap a day! Mhmm… and you seem like you could use one.

He moves behind you, wrapping an arm around your body from behind. Pulling you close to his chest. Making no mind to fix your clothes. This is good. This is right. It’s how it’s always supposed to have been!! Ah, and now he has all the time to make you understand that too. He’s so lucky. So lucky to have found such a good human.

“Night night dolly…” He whispers in your ear, brushing your hair gently. Coaxing you to sleep. “Let’s have a great day tomorrow too, yeah?”

Right. Cause this is forever. ♡

[lilacxquartz]

A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES

part 1 of 3 • mahito x reader

summary: following an accident that destroyed your vision, you begin to suspect that your boyfriend, your caretaker, was actually replaced by an imposter.

tags/themes: body horror, psychological horror, reader insert, disturbing themes, dead dove, dark

ao3 • masterlist • more series • part 2 >

1. Fade Away

The accident itself came out of nowhere.

All you could remember was the squeal of the tires and the slamming force that threw you forward against the dashboard. The glass around you held for maybe a second before it collapsed and fell like sharp, near lethal snow.

Soon after, darkness followed, but not the slow pull of sleep or even death, but quite literally something pitch black and devoid of colour that crept into your vision, or lack of.

Before you knew it, the world was taken away from you and as was your remaining hope.

Essentially, you were left unable to see.

At least maybe temporarily, or so the doctors had otherwise claimed, feeding you a false sense of promise that the light could one day return. Days, maybe weeks all blurred together in perpetual darkness otherwise, so it didn’t take too long for your hope to fade.

The recommendation was to wear eyepatches over your eyes, or rather, a dual patch to both protect your eyes as they heal as well to hopefully make the gradual return of vision not feel so overwhelming.

You hated the things if you were honest; the very feel of them resting atop your eyes only served as a mocking reminder of just how easy it was to ruin the course of your life within mere seconds.

Your boyfriend however, as sweet as he was, tried to see you through it all. His calm and kind voice was the only consistent thing throughout your entire experience. He was always there to guide you when you couldn’t find your way—telling you it was all going to be okay—even if that word no longer made sense to you.

What was it… to be okay anymore?

Everyday, you looked forward to his calming voice and his gentle touch, except for when you didn’t; at least not anymore.

It was a subtle shift in the air, but something had changed.

When he walked into the room, something about his presence felt off. He greeted you the same way that he did before and the sound of his voice was familiar enough, but there was a different quality to it. It wasn’t wrong, at least not exactly, but something about the way he spoke had suddenly felt unnatural.

The way he touched you felt slightly… off, too. His touches were usually light against your skin; yet whoever this was, seemed to apply an uncomfortable amount of weight against you.

The scent in the room, the scent of his cologne that he wore was the exact same, although it was certainly faint, as though stale.

Maybe you were just going insane…?

It wasn’t that unlikely, you supposed. The trauma was life altering enough and after being in a loop of total darkness for the last couple of weeks, it was highly probable that the very last strings of your sanity were finally on their last threads. This whole thing was disorienting enough, since you essentially lost what you knew as the entire world in just a matter of minutes, so maybe it was the case of your senses being elevated a little too much.

It was a possibility, right?

Your mind was probably to blame, playing sneaky and cruel little tricks on you and feeding into the exhausting paranoia of losing one of your most vital senses.

The feeling however still persisted deep down. It was a creeping unease that would sink to the depths of your stomach and bubble away into poorly digested yet festering doubt every time he would reunite with you.

His laughter, while soft and familiar, now carried a hollow tone. His breath felt somehow hotter, his words felt almost… rehearsed. Your heightened remaining senses be damned; you knew it in the core of your very being that you weren’t crazy for picking up on such things.

It was the way his footsteps walked down a methodical path on his way to be with you. or how he hesitated to say your name, instead calling you sickly sweet nicknames that he had otherwise never before in his life used on you.

It was strange, but the company of someone you supposedly had loved for the last five years, had become almost foreign to you.

At one point, you reached for his hand while lying down next to him in bed and your fingers grazed against his, only for you to pull back away in an instant. His soft palms were now calloused and you could feel strange sorts of sutures line up his wrist in brushing retaliation.

You continued to try and drill in the idea that this had to have been all in your head out of desperate delusion, hoping, praying even, that it was the fault of the darkness for twisting everything into something so vile.

But still, that nagging feeling persisted. It wasn’t fear clouding your judgement; it was an innate warning to trust your gut to understand that something was actually terribly wrong.

You didn’t dare question him however, because after all, this person—whoever he actually was—was the only one who had fed you, bathed you and cared for you. How could it not be him? You kept telling yourself that it had to be because you were otherwise stumped on all other plausible explanations.

Whoever it was that tucked themselves away next to you in bed and idly traced haunting patterns in your skin was not the person you once knew.

It was absolutely, without a doubt, someone else.

Someone pretending to be him.

~~~

The doctors had been cautiously optimistic concerning your recovery; a phone call with the person who had initially treated you had revealed that while the accident had been devastating, your future might not be in ruins just yet. With time and provided that you were correctly taking the medicine that your boyfriend had been giving you, you should actually begin to heal.

There were signs to look out for in your returning vision; flickers of light, passing shadows and the like. They warned you that it might at times seem alarming, but it was all positive; a sign of healing, if you were lucky enough.

And much to your delight, you started to indeed notice hints of your vision returning after a while. Exercised moments without the eye patches would reveal partial sight in the form of colourful blurring patches manifesting within your view. It was something so little yet so hopeful, but you couldn’t help but cling to the fleeting glimpses of colour that painted your vision with almost elated anticipation.

Anything but constant darkness.

If you could at least see colour, even if it wasn’t so clear, then suddenly the future wasn’t as bleak as before.

Yet, every time you thought you were getting better, the progress would soon slip away every time he visited.

Just like the initial shift, it all started subtly. The brief casted moments of light would be stolen from you the second that he left the apartment, leaving you behind in a suddenly plunged black void and whenever you would mention this in a call to the doctors, they were simply perplexed. According to them, if you were seeing positive changes in your vision, then it should be improving—not deteriorating.

They told you that they would arrange for your partner to pick up a changed strain for the medication, hoping that an adjustment to your treatment should guide you in the correct direction.

But try as you might, the pattern continued to repeat itself, again and again.

You would heal and then the lights would go out.

You could have sworn that it was his doing somehow, even if the assigned blame was insane in its own right. With every touch from his tainted fingertips, he would somehow weaken you despite being otherwise gentle. It was so odd, because it was like he eluded poison from every stroke against the contours of your flesh.

You soon grew to fear contact with him as a result; dreading any sort of contact with the impostor who claimed to be your lover, lest he would damage you again. It was as though every time his fingertips brushed against your skin, he changed something about you and with every recurring visit, it only got worse.

You kept trying to talk to him about it, hoping that his once warm personality would return and tell you that you were wrong about your assumptions but you never got such comfort.

Again and again, you would ask him something of the same sort of variation, “I’m getting worse, aren’t I?”

But there would be no comfort that followed.

“Don’t be silly,” he would often taunt, almost, his words always so playful as they flicked off of his tongue with hidden venom. “Why would you feel worse, huh? That’s so funny to me, because you shouldn’t. I’m taking such good care of you, silly. You should be feeling better.”

His voice was soft when he spoke too, like smooth dripping honey against your weary ears. “Maybe you’ve got it all wrong, even. You’re feeling worse from me not being around. Don’t worry though, I’ll keep you running, safe and sound.”

His words were now more erratic, almost playful. He no longer carried the same patterns that your partner once did with his speech. You wanted nothing more than to pull away from this monster—because that’s what he must have been—to escape from him, to scream at him to leave you alone because how dare he pretend to be someone you loved?

And yet you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Instead, you did nothing, resigning yourself to just sitting there, laying there as he would continue to purr falsely planted reassurances into your ears with promises that you prayed that he would not keep.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere,” he would say, “I’ll be right here, always. Watching every last bit of you unravel—I mean heal. We’re in this together, right? I’ll stay with you until there’s nothing left—I mean, until you’re fixed right up.”

You could only sigh and endure, the ache behind your eyes getting gradually worse, as if something was pushing and pulling inside of your skull somehow; messing around internally, poking and prodding in places that should have remained untouched.

It didn’t take long for your body to feel wrong, like it wasn’t put together correctly anymore.

Like it didn’t belong to you anymore.

You could have sworn that your skull was contorting under your skin, slowly twisting and waning through whatever pressure his passing touch would apply.

Sometimes, late at night (or what you assumed to be night), you would lie awake and feel things moving inside of you; slowly, and deliberately—as though something was crawling beneath your flesh.

And all you could do was just sit there.

Broken, blind and waiting for the next visit.

For the next time that this thing wearing your boyfriend’s persona would return and wrap its hands around your body once again, uttering sweet little lies while tearing you apart from the inside.

“It’s all gonna be okay,” he would murmur or rather, mock, “I’m here for you, after all.”

But it wasn’t going to be okay.

That much you did know.

In fact, you had a very good idea that nothing was ever going to be okay ever again.

[mochilly]

🍰 - ᴛʜɪs ᴅᴇʟɪɢʜᴛғᴜʟ ᴛᴀsᴛᴇ ᴄᴏɴsᴜᴍᴇs ᴍᴇ!

꒰ ୨୧ ─ Mahito rentry graphics .

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ᴏʀᴅᴇʀ: Heartfelt ice cream .

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ᴄʟɪᴇɴᴛ: @syobaitrashimoto

ʟɪᴋᴇ or ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢ and ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ if using . (🧊) ᵎᵎ

Check my list before doing ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛs: 💌

[notthecutesttrash]

Stop One

Content: On Halloween night you decide to meet up with your friends. Only to be stopped at the train station by a horrible sight.

Warnings: Drabble! Mahito, dark, blood, death, yandere.

Word count: 1151

There’s blood leaking towards your feet. You’re stuck in place, wide-eyed. Quivering helplessly as you grasp the scene.

Abnormally shaped figures that were once normal people scatter on the ground. All sickening sizes and colors range from purple to blue.

Your lips are pursed tight, watching as three- no five figures casually huddle around one another. One man has stitches all over his body, another with spiky hair, and the last wore a purple robe. The other two... aren’t remotely even human.

Where did this all go wrong? 

Just a few moments ago you were getting prepared to go out for Halloween. You just got off a call with your friends who invited you to a party, and you got yourself all dolled up, costume on, ready to go to the train station. Everyone around you had the same idea. Occasionally you’d get a nice conversation out of some funny cosplayers or women wearing catsuits. Hands wrapping around the metal bar, you were so captured in your talk you didn’t notice the train skidding to a stop. 

Your eyes are still caught on a lady beside you who is dressed in a bunny one-piece, adorned with matching ears. “I love your costume,” was the compliment you gave her, and she grinned, making a joke about how it was tight enough to rush off to the ER.

She then waved and you reciprocated kindly, mimicking the focus on the sliding doors. A little ding echoed as they opened and you waited patiently for everyone to begin strolling.

However a few seconds passed, and no one was still moving.

You blinked when everyone appeared rigid. Soon after sounds of shock exited people's mouths. Curiously, you had gathered onto the tips of your toes to see past the tall men in front of you.

You weren't able to see much, but your vision managed to catch a small flicker of red before your feet fell. A scream rushed out of someone nearby and you covered your ears at the sound. Ow, sheesh, did they have to do that now? 

Suddenly a figure pushed you to the ground by shoving your shoulders back. With that, the crowd followed, almost trampling you as they ran through the other door. A clear pathway to the scene was revealed, and you gasped in horror.

Blood was dripping down the sides of the pavement, spreading into a puddle that decorated the train tracks. A blue-haired man turned to the panicked crowd. He had a terribly unsettling ear-to-ear grin, and you rushed to your feet, sprinting the opposite way

A slurred mumbled voice erupted behind you. “Kill me, please, kill me.”

A weight slapped your back and you nearly tripped again. Turning, you saw a teal-morphed monster with mismatched uneven lids that were dripping with tears. Its hanging wide mouth opens to repeat the phrase, and you let out a screech as it neared you.

Your palms met the mush and drove it as far back as you could, dashing to the station's stairs. Others were desperately trying to achieve the same goal, and because of the mutual rush, you were pushed to the side.

Mustering a few steps through the mass, a pair of boots eventually slapped you in the ankle. You tumbled down the stairs and your head smacked against the pavement.

Your vision blurred, and the grunts that made their way out eased into nothing as your head lulled to the side. 

“Ugh, why do they always look the same before they die?” 

“Because they’re human.” 

“Yeah, and this is why I hate them.” 

Blinking groggily, you take a moment before managing to notice the ceiling lights blaring into your retinas. There’s an aching throb in your head and the voices that talk nearby have you wincing. Raising slowly to the sight, a small hiss escapes.

The figures ahead of you are too caught in their conversation to notice you.

At the stairs, there are dozens of bodies cascading against each other. All the people you saw shove you out of the way were lying dead in pools of their own blood. Because of the slipperiness, you're not likely to make a prompt escape there. There is a chance you might be able to dart past the group, but to where? The end of the station? And besides, there are 3 men, and 2... who knows what just standing there like nothing happened. That wasn't a good chance. Might even be worse than possibly tripping.

Steadily your palms press against the floor, readying yourself to stand. The movement of your arm shifts something to your side. Something heavy and slimy. You hold your breath as you observe a slain corpse poking your waist. Their neck is twisted horribly, and their eyes are rolled back, only white revealing. The thud of the head falls near you, echoing loudly. Gagging, you stuff your hand to your mouth, the horrified whimper escaping too quickly.

The room has an instantaneous heavy silence, and the group turns to you, a horrifying scowl accompanying their motion.

“Looks like you left one Mahito," one speaks.

“Aw really? I was sure I got them all.” The one with the rampant stitches glances your way. Sighing, he walks towards you. A gasp escapes as he nears.

You rush to crawl back, but you’re promptly halted by a wet squelch against your neck. Squealing out, the man laughs, pausing to watch the pitifulness. It's quiet as your gaze meets his and he smirks. Your pulse stammers and your mouth opens to plea.

He crouches in front of you, features a few inches from yours. It's then you can see the different colored eyes and the stitches clearly that adorn him. He hums, tilting his head.

"I think I like you. I'll keep you."

You're taken aback, completely frozen, yet he grins almost politely.

A scoff sounds from the group. “Don’t be ridiculous, we have no time for playthings.” 

The one with the spiky hair shrugs, “As long as I don’t have to deal with it."

Then another. The robed one beams nicely, though you struggled to find the sweetness in that one. “I don’t mind. Now, as long as you take responsibility and deal with it when she tries to escape.” 

The man in front of you scoffs. "That not's going to happen."

He smiles and leans closer to you, his fingers curling around your stained hair. “Because you’re going to be my pet now. Won't that be so fun?” He chuckles and you're on the verge of tears.

He pets your locks, almost loving the way it feels beneath his fingers and the way you flinch at the action. The tug at his lips stretches wider as he thinks of all the things he’s going to do to you.

And when you stared into those shameless eyes, you knew this was a fate worse than death. 

[undermine-the-instinct]

Flies in Honey

Mahito/Reader/Yuji Word count 3K

Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, EXTREME NONCON, mIndbreak, character death (reader insert)/ You’re already dead prior to this fic, Mahito uses your body, Mahito is his own warning, humiliation, victim blaming, profanity.

Aged up characters. Spoilers for jjk S2. Consider this an Au where Todo dies and Yuji loses against Mahito.

Yuji doesn’t know how he got here.

It's dark, and damp, wherever he is. It soaks into the rags of his clothes and his exposed skin, gravel tearing at his back. He hardly feels it.

The cracks on the ceiling fissure and twist together, but he’d rather look at them. It's better to look above him than what lies before him.

He’s wearing your face. 

Above him, you sigh, breathy and high pitched, Your hips roll into his, and Yuji bites back a hiss. His hands lay limp at his sides.

“Why aren't you saying anything? I thought you would like this.” Your voice is wrong, you’re talking with his voice and Yuji feels the bile rise in his throat.

You switch rhythm, and Yuji chokes on his spit as you bounce up and down his cock. His hands spasm into claws, but no, he doesn't touch you. He won't, he won't.

You laugh. It's so fucked up but he sounds like you.

“You like this better, right?“

“Fuck you–” It was a bad idea to talk. Your– Mahito's hand shoots out and he sticks three fingers into his open mouth to gag him. Two on his tongue, the other on the roof of his mouth, keeping his mouth open. He chokes, but Mahito presses down on his tongue.

He’s going to come again. What number was this? He lost count around the fourth. All he could focus on was the hot coil in his belly, the tightening of his balls and that horrible fucking sound of your warped laughter when he spills, again.

It shouldn’t feel this good. He wants to tear his fucking skin off. He wants to bite down on the fingers in his mouth, he wants to curl into a ball and never wake up.

He's not going to admit to himself he's enjoying this, that he's missed this. It's not you. You're dead. You died, and it's Yuji's fault. All of it is. He got to you, and now he's wearing your likeness like it's a new coat, the bitch.

But damn, it really looks like you.

“I memorized everything about her, you know.” Your fingers leave his mouth, punched out gasps leave his chest while hands drag down his skin, drawing red lines. 

“She was fun to play with. Stubborn too. Kept fighting even when I made her unable to,” he giggles.

“But she made the prettiest sounds when she finally broke. Prettier when we slept together too. She was just like you–Human. Always trying to deny yourselves at your most desperate, out of some half formed sense of dignity. See?” He presses down with your body, chest to chest while your walls flutter around him. Yuji’s eyes roll back, his hands leave bloody gorges  in the ground.

“But human dignity is just the same as human depravity; you can't hide your baser instincts even in the worst circumstances, huh?”

Yuji would fight back, but his head is swimming, and his bones feel like they’re replaced with jello. There is a rage that simmers as he talks though, and Yuji bites his tongue until he tastes iron. It drips through the hole in his cheek. Mahito sees this and sighs.

"Your base instinct is to kill me. My base instinct is to murder your soul. That's what this is." He gestures between the two of them, not breaking pace. His hand drifts down, and he wipes away at the blood on his face, though he only succeeds in smudging it more.

“I did the same thing to her. Took your face and made her tell me how to do it right.”

“You’re sick–”

“I consider myself considerate. It's why you’re here and not dead.” He stops moving, tilts his head and meets Yuji's eyes in an eerie stare you've never given him. “Did you know that was my first time? I liked it.” You, fuck, he tilts your head, eyes pointed up in thought.

“Well, I'm a ‘human curse’ so I guess of course I would.”

“You fucking–” This time Yuji tries to buck him off, get some room in between them to get a hit in, but all he accomplishes is Mahito pushing him down and pinning his hands, going back to his earlier motions. Yuji's weaker now. Maybe its because its your face. He could never fight against you, even while sparring.

“That's how–I was able to memorize it too. All her faces, her sounds, what she likes. I wanted to understand you, through her. And now," a sound, high pitched and miserable leaves Yuji's throat.

"You like it too, right? A perfect replica, right? Wanna keep going?” Yuji just shakes his head, and tries to fight off his grip. But Mahito has more hands, and he remains pinned. He can't help the slight bucking of his hips, and when he notices, Mahito grins, a ruddy flush spreading across your face in a bald faced insult.

He can't breathe. He needs to vomit.

You had gone missing weeks ago, called on a mission to deal with a second grade level curse. Nothing too hard for you, it was a quick job and everyone had thought that you’d be in and out.

But cursed spirits have been acting strange lately, and everyone simply thought that it was due to the encroaching Halloween date. Due to various thoughts and practices towards the day, this was normal. But you had gone missing and the only sign of your whereabouts came from another encounter with the patchwork curse.

He went down to the sewers with Mr.Nanami, following the smallest clues they had towards your disappearance, where they met Patchwork. He had been vague and leering and lewd, and it was the first time Yuji saw Mr. Nanami’s face twist into such visceral rage. He mirrored the feeling, but Mahito had escaped, along with any other clues to where you were.

He had tossed a lump of...something to Yuji with a mocking grin, spongy and pale. They took it back to Miss Shoko, and it was confirmed to be a piece of your brain matter. Your death was confirmed.

Hope had dragged him along, weary and spitting blood, but losing you…was too much. Shibuya. Nanami, Kugisaki, Todo, you… His mind broke. He could feel the cracks. They fought, Mahito had knocked him unconscious, and dragged him to god knows where, and now he’s here.

And now he was faced with this horrible caricature of you, with too wide eyes and a leering grin that reminded him exactly of who was wearing your face.

Mahito didn't even seem that interested in the sex, too busy staring at the way Yuji reacted. His muscle spasms, the way he would jerk away from his touch or forward when he couldn't help it, the blank look on his face that sometimes twisted into an expression of such utter loathing– Or lust, and then his face would twist with such despair, a broken sob dragged from behind his clenched teeth, wrangled and bloody. Mahito felt the dark glee drip honey sweet through his soul, like the slick that ran down his thighs.

You really were a fun experiment. He knew how much you meant to Yuji, and initially just wanted to use you to damage his soul further. But where was the fun with that? You were something special. Yuji Itadori had plenty of friends and mentors, and killing any random person in front of him would always garner the same effect. But there was only one you. He wanted to understand you, and the exact place you held in Itadori’s life.

What made you special? What made you stand out to the one person, his natural enemy? Humans and their romantic relationships always seemed like a Greek tragedy to Mahito; Of course the person you let know all your weaknesses would be the one to destroy you in the end. Love always gave rise to hatred. It gave rise to a particular brand of hatred that made up Mahito, and if he was anything, he was always curious to know the full substance of his soul. That's where you came in.

“We would talk, and I'd have her tell me all about you–” Mahito drawled. “I had to pry out all the other stuff but she eventually spilled. I wanted to know everything you see,” he punctuates his words by slowly pulling himself off of Yuji's cock, before dropping down with a slap of flesh. He watches in fascination as Yuji’s lower belly flutters.

“We made deals the other half of the time. A few less experiments if she talked, or let me touch her.”

“I’m going to fucking kill you–”

“I got bored eventually, after she told me everything, and I took everything I could... I don't even remember what I did to her in the end."

Mahito wondered, if love gave rise to hatred, would you hate your lover for not rescuing you? Or for being the true target of Mahito's morbid intrigue? He never got his answer, you never voiced any thoughts like that, and strangely, he sensed no hatred at all when you died. Not for Yuji, or even for himself. You were probably too broken.

Mahito shrugged. “Oh well. She’s dead now anyways.” An ugly, violent sound tears through Yuji’s throat, and finally his hands reach out to grab at his–your waist with a bruising grip. He shoots up and doesn't let Mahito move, and Mahito is curious about this reaction, so he waits while Yuji catches his breath.

“You…how can you…just do that to people? She never did–she never did anything wrong–” His head comes to rest on your collarbone, and Mahito watches this all play out with an intense curiosity, and a growing glee.

Yuji continues to break down, tears slipping from his eyes down to the soft flesh of your breast.

“What the fuck did you do to her…why the fuck did you take her…" Mahito sighs, lets the familiar timber of your voice take over, and drags a hand through Yuji’s hair. Not as gentle a touch as he made you demonstrate on him, but Yuji shudders, and burrows further into the mimicry.

“Yuji.” At the sound of our voice, your true voice, Yuji's shoulders shake horribly.

So this is grief? Or despair? Mahito remarks. What's the difference? He watches Yuji as he shatters. Yuji sobs, ugly and loud off the sewer walls when Mahito starts moving again, but his hips thrust shallowly into your slick cunt.

Mahito wondered, had wondered, if love gave rise to hatred, then you just needed to love him, right? If he wanted to understand your place in his enemy's life, your place as his 'lover', than you just had to love him, right?  And lovers do things together, they talk about their vulnerabilities, they watch and learn their tics and preferences and dislikes and habits. They stick through the good and bad. And Mahito was….bad.

Yuji continues to sob, but he tilts his head back and starts fucking him back, soft whimpers slipping past his bitten lips.

“I’m sorry, I’m so damn sorry, ah–! Fuck, I'm sorry, I wasn't there, I let him get to you, fuck I’m sorry I let him hurt you–”

This isn’t even about the sex. But Mahito is a disaster curse–he was born from hate. And hate has flavors. Rage, vindictiveness, envy, glee; he’s all of them. And the hatred rising from Yuji Itadori is so potent and despair riddled that Mahito sighs, and in an act unbidden comes with a choked out gasp.

Its sudden. Mahito hasn't orgasmed once this entire ordeal before, but as soon as he does, Yuji groans, deep and guttural. His head flops back to the hard ground, and immediately his gasps turn shallow and fast before he pulls your hips down and comes in thick, hot ropes.

Is it because Mahito is wearing your face, or did he always hold on this tightly to you? Mahito is sure he’ll see dark purple bruises on your skin when he lets go, and Mahito decides he’ll keep them. He’s never fixed you, after all, so bruises were a common sight. He just wonders how it’ll look as it ‘heals’. Maybe Yuji could give him some pointers on the visual front.

Yuji lays there, and cries. The tears cut clean streaks through the blood and dirt and grime, and Mahito stares, and he stares. His pink hair is flat, and stringy with dried blood.

"Why are you pretending you don't like this?"

"What...?"

he tilts your head. "Its sex. Even if you're not one for carnal pleasure I still look like her. I still feel like her. Don't you love her?"

"No...I--"

"You dont?"

"I do, you're just--! Fuck, get off of me--" Mahito swats his hands away, almost halfheartedly, clicks his tongue.

"If you did 'love her' than wouldn't you stop me already? I read a plot like this in a book once... Shouldn't you kill me for 'defiling her memory' or something? You're enjoying this."

"I'm not--"

"You are."

"I'm--"

"You are. Stop denying it. I'm not going to stop if that's what you're scared of." Mahito chuckles.

“What the fuck…is your problem, what do you want?” Yuji gasps out. His breaths are shallow and his voice is high patched, chest rising up and down, up and down, too fast. He runs his thumb over his collarbone if only to feel the rabbit-fast pulse.

“What do I want...?” 

“Why me? Why do you want to break me? ‘Natural enemy?' I don't even know what that means...” Mahito is silent for a moment longer, enjoying the moment, before he leans over. With the use of Idle transfiguration, your mangled face takes up Yuji’s vision, and he feels the breath die in his throat.

“You are my natural enemy Yuji Itadori. But I can't kill you. Physically, that is. So this is the next best thing.”

“You, I–”

“Don't take my words too seriously, I am a curse after all,” Mahito brushes your hair out his face and leers.

“But you seem to think that this is a punishment. This is a reward, Itadori.”

“‘Reward’?” He hiccups.

Mahito nods.

“Without you, I would have never gotten to understand my soul on such an intimate level. I know the essence of my soul because of you.” He leans closer, breath full of mirth and rot.

“And I thought, surely you missed your little girlfriend. And isn't intercourse the most sacred act between two lovers?” Mahito shrugs.

“An experiment for me on whether this would fully break you or not. You can consider it a gift though.”

“You think…you think I want to see her like this?”

“Yes?”

“No!”

“Then would you like to see what's left of her?” Mahito points back to the mouth of the sewer. Tortured, anguish moans rise from there, and Yuji can already guess what was there. Despair grips his heart and rips it out.

“Don't worry, I didn't tranfigure her, actually. I bet I can find the parts of her around somewhere …but only if you ask nicely.” Again, he thrashes, but from battle, or loss, he’s weak.

No, Yuji knows why. He could never raise a hand against that face. Even now, seeing dark purple bruises on a body that even resembles yours makes guilt curl in his chest.

“Get off of me."

“What was that? You're talking so low I can't hear you.”

“Get off of me!” Mahito drawls out a low note, but surprisingly, he does as he’s told. Yuji hisses as he slides off his dick, letting him feel the drag of your walls and how they flutter. It's familiar, and Yuji wants to kill something when he thinks of how this curse must have learnt that from you.

He wants to kill himself when his breath hitches at the feeling.

Mahito gets off, but does not release his hands. The image of an extra pair of hands holding him down creates enough clarity for him to differentiate between the two of you, and Itadori growls under his breath.

Your face smiles down at him, and Itadori tries not to stare back. Just like that, the anger is gone. He’s missed you, after all.

“...You know I'm getting out of here, right?”

“And you’ll try killing me. I know. That's if you don't come back for this, though.” He gestures with a stitched hand the bare curves of your body.

“You’ve killed my puppets, transfigured humans, even the kid ones! Shibuya didn't break you, killing Mister 7:3 didn't break you, or that Gorilla, that hammer woman’s death almost did… but something tells me…”

He slithers up and slots himself against Yuji’s side, and it's an ingrained habit to hold you. He jolts back quickly enough in horror, but Mahito grabs his arms, and keeps them on him.

“Killing me while wearing this face would really shatter you, hm? it's why you didn't stop me when I dragged you here and did what I did. You let me. You let this happen." He shakes his head even before you, fuck, it's done. He denies it, because what else could he do?

Mahito moves to hiss in his ear. 

"Is it because of guilt? You're so human, Itadori Yuji.” And his eyes switch to that familiar silver and blue.

“Even if it's self loathing, I can still sense it. That hatred. You’ll come back, and I'll break your soul down some more each time. Little by little…until eventually, one of us kills the other. That's how this is going to go.” He rests your head on his shoulder, listening to the dull drag of his heart. The movement is so familiar that Yuji could cry again, but he holds it back.

“....So that's how it is.”

“Yup. Oh, and I'm still waiting for my thank you.”

“....” 

He sits up, and laughs at the way Yuji’s eyes go pinprick small, copying your laughter down to a terrifying degree. Yuji doesn't know how, he’s sure you never laughed in a place like this.

“Hate me all you want, it only makes me stronger. But, even if it's unconventional, I still let you see her, feel her. I want a thank you for that.”

And Yuji must truly be broken because what if I really never see her again? What if I never hear her voice or touch her? This here, horrible as it was, was both knife and balm, like peroxide on an open wound. Cleansing and burning.

“....”

“Well?”

If…he just pretends it was you, if he just watches your mouth and imagines….

He used to thank you after sex in the beginning, before you told him to stop thanking you like you were being paid to sleep with him. Of course, this led to the private joke, where you would demand your payment–anytime, anywhere, and he would smother you in kisses. Fushiguro, Kugisaki and even Gojo-san would roll their eyes or tease or gag, but he loved it. He knew you did too, with how often you used the joke.

“...Thank you.”

Fuck, he misses you.

“Nuh uh uh! Not like that!” Mahito shoots up, hovering your face over his again, noses touching. He switches his eyes back for yours, extra arms gone.

“Thank her. Like you used to. Go on.” He's broken. Yuji is broken.

He reaches a hand and cups the side of your face like he used to. You cant into it like a cat, and a fondness rises in his chest, just to be awashed by despair. He has to clear his throat, and still his voice breaks.

“Th-Thank you...” And because he can't help the fact that it's you, it looks just like you, he pulls you down for a kiss. It's so familiar, down to the way you would tilt your head to the side, and your tongue would swipe over the bottom of his lip. But Mahito bites down, reopening a wound from when he bit his tongue earlier. Blood fills his mouth, but Mahito laps it up. His tongue pokes at the hole in his cheek.

He pulls away, and his eyes are still yours, warm and loving, red smeared at the corner of your mouth. He smiles your smile. He speaks in your voice. Soft, so soft it kills him.

“You’re welcome, Yuji.”

[lena-after-dark]

alright. alright. i didn't like him that much when i started watching, but fuck it. mahito on the roster

[thorerre]

people who see junpei yoshino exclusively as a soft uwu boy need to remember that he once told a bully girl that she wasn’t even that pretty and the boys only wanted to fuck her. which would be kinda questionable under different circumstances. people also need to remember the scene at the movie club where he refused to leave even though he knew he would be beaten afterwards. he was a bitch to his bullies. yes he was also shy but are you normal about his shyness

[mullermilkshake]

Making sacrifices

The dating world always sucks, so when a man comes along and seems utterly perfect, you seize that opportunity. There aren't always plenty of fish and when there are, you need to be cautious of the one's that bite.

A completed long fic <3

—-

“Do you know why lust is such a powerful emotion?” His teeth scraped down your neck but never bit down and his tongue licked up along your jawline. “It’s gratification that originates from the need to procreate.”

Fuck.

“I could breed you right now… and you’d thank me for it.”

—-

His grasp on your chin was painful but not aggressive, the dynamic changing astronomically from previous encounters. This was vicious, charged sexually as though he craved any human touch, and was denied it for some time and you were the victim of his intentions.

Gojo’s lips were softer and far more plump than you had anticipated, you could have slapped him whilst so close and you almost did.

When he pulled away, he was the same as he always was, with a hint of actual humility. “Is that what you came here for?”

His arm was tight around your waist and your body refused to move. “I- I came because…”

“Did you miss me that much?” Now he was just being an asshole.

“You fucking dick .” It was involuntary swinging your arm the way you did, you missed him anyway.

He caught your arm with a speed you hadn’t seen him use before and so easily too. He didn’t utter a word and pulled you in past the front door and kicked it shut with his foot.

—-

Ao3 link here!

Minors DNI —-

[seo0993]

Posted on twitter but imma post on here too-

Y’all pls y’all gotta see @Drag0nartzz (on twitter) designs on this AU- makes me feral and I jump in joy 😖

[mindbreak]

I have two story ideas for jjk, who should I write for first?

[lilacxquartz]

lilac’s bite sized jjk yandere nightmares masterlist

about: exploring darker yandere with short stories/8 chapters max fics—updated every monday with sometimes a break if a chapter/story needs more time.

tw: some of these works will be very intense, the generalised tag is dead dove, but the specific warnings will be listed in the work or chapter as it gets updated. links lead to ao3 as well as tumblr.

ao3 • main masterlist

blessed with blue • tumblr link

angel satoru gojo x mortal reader

to save a broken soul • tumblr link

suguru geto x cursed spirit reader

pretty little trinket • tumblr link

harpy shoko x human reader

beyond hellfire

true form sukuna x reader

haunted memories

kenjaku x vessel reader

limited edition doll

mahito x reader

symbiosis

(turning) zombie choso kamo x reader

entombed

yuki tsukumo x reader

damsel in distress

king kento nanami x peasant reader

in my web

monster utahime x adventurer reader

passenger princess

shiu kong x reader

the lies we tell

higuruma hiromi x reader

never let you go

ghoul naoya x widowed reader

too pretty to die

takuma ino x reader

[ebbing-terror]

By all means, Junpei Yoshino should not be able to stand.

[jujutsukaisenbigbang]

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