#tw: extremely dubious content

[3-2-whump]

The Scent of Jasmine

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Who's in the mood for some carewhumping after the emotional rollercoaster of almost dying? I know I am!

Thank you @whumped-by-glitter and @generic-whumperz for being awesome beta readers

TW/CW: aftermath of mock execution, trauma aftermath, extremely dubious consent, nonverbal whumpee, whumper turned carewhumper, dubiously consensual nudity, death threats, chastity devices (yes, it’s back), forced domesticity, food whump (sort of) (tagging it anyway to cover my bases), intimate whumper

The boss noticed Khaled’s grateful enthusiasm slowly fade into a catatonic silence on the drive home. He didn’t think much of it, though. Poor boy is just shocked is all, he told himself, we can work on that. He parked, got out of the car and led Khaled out of the garage and to the elevator.

His first order of business was to strip Khaled when they got home. The poor thing was soaked in melted snow and cooled piss. He was barely responsive as Thomas pulled him into the laundry room and slowly peeled each layer of clothing off his shivering body. “You need a bath, Khaled.”

Khaled didn’t reply, instead opting to stare at his bare feet with empty, starless eyes. I can’t blame him for being quiet. Anyone would be a little messed up after a mock execution, he figured. He sighed, gently taking the slave’s hand in his and leading him to the master bathroom.

Once inside, Thomas deposited him at the entrance and turned on the lights and the fan. Khaled stood silently watching him by the door as he knelt by the large, deep bath tub. “Come on in,” he beckoned. Khaled inched closer to the bath tub as Thomas poured a generous glug of bubble bath solution into the marble expanse and cranked the water full-blast, making micro-adjustments to make sure the temperature wasn’t too hot. As a finishing touch, he uncapped a tiny bottle of jasmine oil and dripped a few drops into the tub. The floral scent rose on the plumes of steam coming from the frothing tub.

Once the tub was full enough, Thomas turned off the tap and pulled Khaled closer to the tub. He effortlessly scooped the young man’s cold body into his arms, settling him on the edge of the bath tub before gently lowering him in. “I’m going to help you wash your hair and body. Nod if you understand me.”

Khaled faintly nodded, eyes fully closing as he slumped into the soapy water. “Good boy.” Nothing but a small, contented sounding whimper answered him. At least he’s becoming verbal again.

Thomas methodically washed the young man’s body and hair, being mindful of not getting any soap in his eyes as he massaged his scalp with the shampoo. He noticed the newly forming chafe marks on Khaled’s wrists as he scrubbed his body. All the while he whispered sweet nothings into his ear, like “good boy, you’re being so good right now, we’re almost done, I gotta rinse you off and drain the tub next.”

The awareness in Khaled’s eyes was flickering back on once Thomas helped him out of the bath tub and began towel-drying him. “Back with me, beautiful?” he teased.

“Mmm.” Inky dark eyes glittered up at him from dark lashes and damp strands of black hair as Thomas wrapped a soft fluffy towel around his shoulders.

“Yeah, good. Very good.” He procured something small and metallic from behind his back.

Khaled instinctively backed away as soon as he saw what it was. “Khaled,” he warned. It was all he needed to say for the boy to stay rooted on the spot. “I haven’t forgotten about you running around and getting an STD,” he explained as he wrapped the cock cage around Khaled’s privates. “And I’m still mad about it. But maybe I will let you out once we’re both all better.” He padlocked it in place and held the small caged appendage in his hand. “Or once I put that dumpster lover of yours under, like the horndog he is. Whichever comes sooner.” He marveled at how it was but a microcosm of Khaled’s greater captivity. As he craned his gaze upwards, he saw Khaled pout. “Oh, don’t give me that look –I’m doing this for your own good!” The boy smoothed his frown back into a neutral expression of apathy as he hid his eyes behind his lashes.

“That’s more like it. Now, can you change into your pajamas and wait in the living room until Master is done in here?” He measured out his words slowly and carefully, explaining it as if Khaled was a child again. Another quiet hum answered him. “Good boy. When I’m done, we can eat, and then we’ll watch whatever you’d like.” He gestured him out with a small wave of the hand, then hopped into the shower for a quick rinse off himself.

When he got out of the shower, towel-dried himself, and changed into a fresh pair of flannel pants and a wife-beater tank top, Thomas made his way to the living room, where Khaled sat on the floor, at the foot of the couch, gazing down at the carpet with desolate eyes. He was still wrapped in the bath towel. Seeing him there brought back memories of when Khaled was younger, when he would lean against his shins and let him brush his thick black hair. The memory brought back fond feelings in Thomas’ chest. He turned around and went back to the bathroom for a hairbrush.

Once he was done brushing his slave’s hair, they ended up sitting opposite each other at the dining room table, each with a plate of reheated takeout from a new Indian restaurant Tom had wanted to try. While the boss himself ravenously devoured the bhuna ghost, Khaled kept tearing the same corner of buttered naan between his fingers while staring apathetically at the murgh cholay.

“Are you sure you don’t want any more food?” he asked again. “You hardly touched your portion.”

The boy merely shook his head.

“Come on, at least two more bites, Khaled,” he coaxed. “Give me at least two more bites before I put it away.”

Khaled cast him an empty, weary stare, not breaking eye contact as he tore off the weathered chunk of bread, dipped it into the curry, and ate exactly two more bites.

They ended up cuddling onto the couch together after dinner, a rarity in their household. Thomas man-spread on the couch and rested his arms outstretched along the back. Khaled, still wearing nothing but a damp bath towel around his shoulders, leaned against his side with his head resting on his chest. His hands curled around a steaming mug of chai, which he occasionally sipped as they watched a rerun of the AFC World Cup. Khaled didn’t cheer, or groan, or offer any commentary of any kind throughout the whole match. It was unusual for Khaled to remain this quiet and glum during a game. Thomas gently took the mug from his hands and set it on the table. “What’s wrong? Why are you so quiet this evening? Is it –oh, is it because of that little scare off the side of the road?” he guessed. Khaled pushed his weight up against him, just short of burrowing into the man’s side.

“I guess I scared you pretty badly, didn’t I? Look, I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I know now it wasn’t you, but I had to be sure. I promise I will never fake you out like that again.”

The young man remained silent as he leaned against his chest.

“If anything, you should be blaming that boyfriend of yours,” he continued. “I bet he never would’ve attempted that hit if he knew what I was about to do to you tonight. But, what’s done is done, and now you’ll never see him again.”

Khaled did not respond.

It took about an hour more of mind-numbing soccer footage for him to realize the boy had fallen asleep on him.

Oh. He softly smiled as he turned off the TV. He carefully got up and lowered Khaled onto the couch, disentangling the towel from his unconscious, nude form. He propped a throw pillow behind his head, then unfurled a fleece blanket and draped it over him, making sure his feet were covered and he was properly tucked in for the night. “Goodnight, Khaled,” he whispered, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on the side of the boy’s parted lips. “I… love you...”

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @defire

[theoldwhisky]

What would you advise people to be aware of before reading MDZS or any MXTX books, for that matter? I'm serious.

I would warn them before reading or engaging with any of MXTX's books about the extremely dubious consent content, including elements that lean toward sexual assault. Additionally, I would warn them about the, in my opinion, very clear depictions of eating disorders and malnutrition, as well as physically and mentally abusive types of relationships of any kind that arise, alongside the classic themes of violence, gore, and blood.

Furthermore, topics such as suicide, self-harm, teacher-student relationships, stalking, abortion, and gambling, etc.

I know some of you might say insensitive things like, "One should expect such things in books," or comments like, "It's not that deep." To those kinds of people, I would like to remind you: FUCK OFF!

It is that deep. You don't know someone else's trauma and mental health struggles; warnings are necessary, and not just in the form of jokes or comments like "Just read it and find out." Trigger warnings exist for a reason and are essential. Just because you don't need them doesn't mean that others don't.

If you don't care about this, that's fine; move on. It's clearly not meant for you, but I'm tired of people across all kinds of fandoms, including MXTX, downplaying these issues and acting as if it's acceptable to belittle them simply because you personally might not share the same problems.

Sidenote: I recommend that you always Google the TW (trigger warnings) for the specific MXTX work you are about to read before purchasing it. Additionally, adaptations are usually much more censored and may not be entirely free of specific content in some regards.

[local-redhead-bookworm]

One of the few solid critiques I’ve seen of Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel is that the shows pick and choose which moral failings to depict as bad or as just funny.

Essay-length rant under the cut, also Hellaverse-typical TWs for abuse, SA, and general lack of morals

Disclaimers:

I’m not hating on these shows. I love both of these shows, but I’m an English major so I think it’s important for me to be able to analyze what exactly I think is not working. I’m interested in a discussion, but if all you’re here to do is spew hate with no good-faith criticisms, I will block you.

These shows do not need to teach morals. These pieces of media are both intended for adult audiences, and adults should be able to understand that a depiction does not equal support. My criticism is that this moral inconsistency is sometimes to the overall tone’s detriment.

These two shows are both set in hell. Following the usual rules of hell, you wind up there regardless of what you did, so all sins should be considered equal in that regard. Of course, we as people tend to think of some sins as less forgivable than others—namely abuse, SA, and murder. I’m making broad generalizations here, but please roll with me.

The biggest problem with Hellaverse writing is that the writers aren’t consistent on what is considered morally bad in the show. These shows both center around complex, deeply flawed people, and I find that really enjoyable from a storytelling perspective because I love nuanced, flawed characters.

There are a few notable instances where this moral ambiguity works in the storytelling’s favor. Stella screaming and throwing things at Stolas (Loo Loo Land) is something the audience is primed to see as a joke, but it is used to set up the later reveal that she is in fact highly abusive (The Circus) and attempted to have him killed (Harvest Moon, Western Energy). Stolas being casually condescending to Moxxie and Millie (Loo Loo Land) and his imp servants (Seeing Stars, Full Moon) is not heavily remarked upon, but it is later used to set up his classism being a point of contention between him and Blitzø.

However, the protagonists often exhibit similar behaviors to the villains and this isn’t treated as morally wrong, or sometimes an incident is treated as minor. This problem is most glaring in cases of sexual harassment or SA. Blitzø’s repeated stalking of Moxxie and Millie, including watching them have sex without their knowledge or consent, is treated as a joke. Moxxie being kissed by the incubi and succubi (Spring Broken) is treated as a joke. Likewise Sir Pentious being dragged into the sex room in Welcome to Heaven is also treated as a joke, in spite of the episode’s b-plot being Angel Dust confronting Valentino, who is primarily shown to be bad through his sexual abuse of Angel Dust. Angel Dust harasses Husk at the bar from episodes 1-4, and while this is connected to Angel’s porn star persona and I do seem to recall it stopping after “Loser, Baby”, it’s still not treated as a problem, just as Angel Dust being Angel Dust. Other incidents of note are the running so-called joke of Loona fat-shaming Moxxie not being a problem, whereas when Mammon fat-shames Fizzarolli it is used to signify Mammon as a bad person.

I would also like to highlight the nature of Blitzø’s and Stolas’ full moon deal. In my opinion it is a running problem of dubious consent and poor kink negotiation. Let’s cover this in chronological order for sake of ease. In The Circus, Stolas starts out describing a sexual fantasy of Blitzø, his former childhood friend and first love, sneaking into his house to “ravish” Stolas. However, when Blitzø reciprocates and feeds into the fantasy, Stolas becomes hesitant. I believe this is intended to read as him being flustered, but he is extremely hesitant until Blitzø bites him. Stolas later forges the Full Moon deal with Blitzø while Blitzø is, to keep things to the point, under duress (Murder Family). Neither of these circumstances show both parties giving full consent. Hence, dub-con. Furthermore, as per The Circus and “we don’t do words, we do sex” (Apology Tour), Stolas and Blitzø have a strong precedent for poorly negotiated BDSM and lack of proper kink safety. However, the show’s inconsistency with how it handles sexual harassment and power imbalances weakens the impact of the Full Moon deal’s transactional nature on the relationship.

I greatly enjoy Helluva Boss and Hazbin Hotel, as I enjoy flawed and complex characters. I do not expect the show to address every issue raised here with the care that should be used in real life, as this is a fictional story set in hell. However, the writers’ inconsistency, particularly when it comes to depicting power imbalances and sexual harassment/SA, leads to a muddled tone which confuses the audience to a point where it is not beneficial to telling the story.

Because I’m a nerd but can’t be bothered to format 100%, here’s my works cited:

Danny Motta. “I Was WRONG About Blitz | Blitz Vs Stolas Debate.” YouTube.

Sarcastic Chorus. “STOLAS DID EVERYTHING WRONG - Stolitz Analysis.” YouTube.

Vivziepop’s Helluva Boss playlist. YouTube.

[poussacha]

My Maxley Fics Masterpost

✨🎆the rise and fall of a midwest love affair series

[the man, the myth, the legend. The series I'm writing based on Chappell Roan's Midwest Princess Album. A story for most tracks (some of them are mashups).]

[This series does not need to be read in order whatsoever, they're all independent of one another (allegedly)]

hit it like it's hot to go

Rated E | F/F Genderbent Maxley | 17,477 Words | Complete

Summary: It’s pitch black and from the booth she can only really make out flashes of light and a writhing mass of bodies. Their voices lift to sing in unison with the music she’s broadcasting while their bodies undulate like live wires.

This is the part she loves most about playing in clubs. The drunken, writhing mass of voices that lend her their ears. They listen to her heavy-handed remixes, her mash-ups, her house beats all without a single complaint. For a moment, she controls their narrative, holding them captive with a beat.

She’s three quarters of the way through her set when her least favorite part about playing in clubs rears its ugly head. In the form of a wasted brunette with long curly hair and a sneer.

“Can you play a song with a fucking beat ?”

OR

Max is a DJ at a club Brittney (Bradley) frequents with her finance bro boyfriend. Brittney tries her damndest to be obnoxious. Max might just be endeared toward her anyway.

Tags: DJ AU, homophobic slurs, minor violence from a fist fight, internalised homophobia, lesbians, jumpscare het sex, man attacking a woman, implied/referenced domestic abuse, explicit sexual content, degradation kink, vers characters, praise kink, tongue piercings, angst, heartbreak, cheating, genderbent

Song: Femininomenon To Go Mashup

Playlist(s):

hit it like it's hot to go (official)

After Midnight

Rated T | M(IN)/F College AU (Trans Masc!Intersex!Bradley x Cis!Fem! Max) | 104,757 Words | Incomplete, ongoing

Updates on all days ending on 7 and on most days that are multiples of 7

Summary: It’s Max’s first year at university. She arrives on campus with her two best friends PJ and Bobby in Bobby’s beat up sleeper van from the 1970s that reeks of musk, weed, and boy sweat. She doesn’t know yet what this year has in store, but she hopes it’s something to remember.

Bradley is in his final year in law school. Just trying to graduate, pass the bar, and move on with his life. That is, until someone comes along to change his perspective.

Tags: CHEATING, INFIDELITY, AGE GAP, College AU, genderbent, fem!Max Goof, fem!PJ Pete, masc!Bobby Zimmeruski, fem!Roxanne Rover, fem!Stacey, trans!Bradley Uppercrust III, intersex!Bradley Uppercrust III, masc!Tank, no x-games, underage drinking, marijuana use, falling asleep in precarious situations, fist fight, harrassment, masturbation, shotgunning, fishing trips, San Francisco, indulgent touching, body worship, body dysmorphia, semi-nudity, tws at the top of every chapter

Song: After Midnight

Playlist(s):

After Midnight (Official)

Gamma Mu Mu House Party Playlist

& if you let me, i would've loved you always

California

Rated E | M/M Doctor!Bradley x Disabled!Dancer!Max AU | 18,851 Words | Incomplete

WARNING: DUB-CON, DEAD DOVE

Summary: Max Goof is at the prime of his life. He’s finally realized his dream of becoming the main dancer and choreographer for his favorite singer of all time, Powerline. That is, until an accident brings everything crashing down in an instant.

Leading to him to return home to Ohio, metaphorical tail tucked between his legs.

Will he find peace back home with his dad? Or will being back in Ohio only complicate things more?

Tags: blow jobs, bathroom sex, public sex, disabling incident, characters with disabilities, ableism, toxic relationships, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, incomplete spinal cord injury, polyamory, angst, wheelchair user max goof, canonically disabled della duck, discussions of medical insurance, allusions to drug abuse, eating disorders, slow burn, EXTREMELY DUBIOUS CONSENT, DUBIOUS MORALITY, POWER IMBALANCE, semi-public sex, prostate examinations, erectile dysfunction

Song: California

Playlist(s):

i'm never gonna get the things i want the most

🐩Standalone Maxley Fics

i just wanna sweet talk for awhile

Rated E | M/M Canon Divergent Post X-Games AU | 2,975 Words | Complete

Summary: They were always fighting. Two sides diametrically opposed. Except, as perfect opposites, they find themselves pulled together like magnets. Until they can't deny their chemistry.

Tags: fluff, self indulgent, frottage, frotting, inexperienced bradley uppercrust iii, experienced max goof, bottom bradley uppercrust iii, top max goof, soft boys, shockingly gentle to be something written by me, body worship, gentle words

Song: Sugar High

take it like a taker

Rated E | M/M Canon Divergent Post X-Games BDSM AU | 5,777 Words | Complete

Summary: Bradley's breath is quiet, measured. Muscles tensing beneath Max's fingertips, illuminated by the warm orange glow of candlelight, as he deftly loops ropes in simple patterns around his upper thigh and ankle. Until his legs bend open, splayed

His wrists are next. A simple double column across both arms and up through the center. OR

The shibari and wax play fic nobody asked for

Tags: shibari, wax play, porn without plot, BDSM, dom max, sub bradley, hurt/comfort, sub drop, panic, aftercare, bradley is the biggest brat, humans because getting wax out of fur sounded painful, max might be a brat tamer if you squint, self-indulgent, body worship, rimming

Song: The Giver

🐕🐩🐕‍🦺Braxanne (Bradley/Max/Roxanne) OT3 Fics

i'm so obsessed with your ex

Rated E | M/M/F Mean Girls/Swap AU (Boy Next Door!Bradley x Homeschooled!Max x Queen Bee!Roxanne) | 19,324 Words | Complete

Summary: Max moves to Spoonerville after spending his formative years traveling around the world with his dad and his stepmom to study weather phenomena. Specifically lightning storms. He runs into a bit of a storm himself when Brad Uppercrust and Roxanne Rover both take a liking to him at the same time.

Tags: Mean Girls AU if you squint, Brad is the boy next door, Roxxane is the Queen Bee, this a brad and roxanne swap AU, surprise, max is a virgin, roxanne wants him bibilically, so does brad, brad and roxanne are bitter (?) exes, halloween parties, threesomes, explicit sex, teasing, praise kink, multiple orgasms, underage drinking, everyone is 18, but this takes place in the us so, MMF threesome

Song: Obsessed

Playlist(s):

i'm so obsessed with your ex

🛹⭐Sw00ney Brobert Swap AU fics (not maxley)

Brad Crust x Robert Zimmeruski

More from the Swap AU here on Sw00ney's ig

bite your tongue or i'll do it for you

Rated E | M/M | 2,007 Words | Complete

Summary: Brad convinced Robert to do something stupid again, this is the aftermath of their latest near-death experience.

Tags: they're so unhinged in this, degradation kink, brat on deck, going in dry, sort of, begging, wacky power dynamics, dirty talk, they're so mean to each other, but it's love i swear, established relationship, robert is a rich boy, brad's just a teenage dirtbag baby, i had too much fun writing this

Song: Good Hurt

Art for this fic by kofiracha!

beautiful boy, your words are made of poetry

Rated E | M/M | 1,457 Words | Incomplete

Summary: Bobby comes over to yell at Brad for something he (allegedly) didn't do only to find him suffering from an intense migraine.

Shenanigans ensue.

Tags: slow updates, migraines, hurt/comfort

Song: Sugar High

🐱‍🏍🐛Other AEGM fics (that aren't maxley)

Bobby x Max

open our bodies, i quietly knock on your door

Rated E | M/M (Trans!Masc!Max x Cis!Masc!Bobby) | 1,902 Words | Complete

Summary: "Fuck," Max says, coughing a little at the tail end of his latest hit. His voice echoes in his head, making him feel like he's at the crossroads of a hundred different timelines. Consciousness dipping and floating through each. Like he's the doorway of time. "What did you say this was?"

"OG Blueberry Creme," Bobby drawls, voice slow like syrup. He takes the blunt when Max passes it back to him, raising it to his lips to take another hit. "One of my all-time favorite highs, man."

OR

Bobby and Max get high and fool around in his van. That's it, that's the fic.

Tags: porn without plot, explicit sex, cum play, marijuana use, having sex under the influence, established relationship, van sex, trans Max Goof

[undiscovered-horizon]

Imagine being the one who releases Morpheus. - Part 4

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [ENDING] [ALT. ENDING] || Sandman-inspired playlist

[TW: blood, graphic depictions of an injury/illness]

The burning wood in the fireplace cracked pleasantly, reminding one that the cold sea breeze no longer had them in her grasp. In a way, it was that very same freezing wind that made one appreciate the warmth of the fire. The quiet cracking was a nice change from the loudness of the shore.

The inside of your house looked more like a workshop or a laboratory rather than a place where someone lived. Sketches, manuscripts and pieces of newspapers covered most of the walls. The spots where the old flowery wallpaper was left uncovered, had drawings and inscriptions written in chalk made on them. Looking at the seemingly chaotic groupings of all things strange and deranged, one may experience doubts as to the owner's sanity: it was either madness that drove them among cults, botany, astronomy and unsolved crimes or pure genius yet to be recognized. But as it is with all matters that toe this fascinating line, the final decision, whether one was a genius, a madman or a bit of both, belonged to the generations yet to be born; eyes that were yet to blink and tongues that were yet to speak.

"What is this?" Morpheus asked hesitantly as he looked around the room. He deserved a generous portion of understanding for that moment of anxiety: the last time he witnessed those symbols, he ended up imprisoned for a decade. It was only natural that he should react like that. Additionally, the jars with strange contents and dubious labels couldn't be comfort-bringing.

"A monument of my desperation," you answered as you tried to bring even a fraction of order to the papers cluttering your desk. A new, unread newspaper lay among your notes and old books. The front page's headline read 'Louisville theft still unsolved' in bolded letters. "I studied the occult and alchemy to find out what curse my father had put on me but to no avail. Years I have spent chasing after my own ailment, an answer as to what tragedy awaits me around the corner of tomorrow. The question, however, I have left unanswered."

"You have given up," he stated. Despite having no knowledge of your life during those years, Morpheus appeared surprisingly certain in his judgement.

"Yes..." you drew out your answer. Perhaps it was at that very moment that you finally understood it. You nodded your head slightly before continuing. "Yes, I have. But then a new endeavour occupied my mind, one that wouldn't render my studies useless, a waste of time. I wanted to find you."

Momentarily, his attention deviated from the jars, drying plants and unintelligible diagrams only to focus on you. It was a lovely sentiment in all of its romanticism - that the moment your paths diverged, both of you worked to make them cross again and all of that because you were simply curious about one another. Standing under the night sky diagram you had hand drawn in chalk on the ceiling of the room, perhaps it wasn't a stretch to call the two of you starcrossed. There was, however, a certain sadness to that statement: stars, as it befits their whims, align in a specific way only once in a long while. Maybe, just maybe, the gods that watch over stars were going to be merciful towards Dream and you.

Morpheus was standing with his back towards the fireplace. The flame made him cast a long shadow over the old, stained carpet that was already there when you moved into the house years ago. With that bright, dancing halo he appeared both heavenly and hellish like frostbite that feels so cold it burns like the hottest fire. But in all of those contradictory extremes, he never appeared dangerous or you simply couldn't perceive him in that way. Perhaps he was like that fireplace in your house: a raging flame consuming everything in sight but still contained enough to not feel scared of turning away from it. "What for?" he asked in a low voice. For some reason, his tone appeared angered as if he wasn't quite keen on you succeeding in your quest.

"Do not grow anxious, my dear stranger," you spoke mildly with your hands clasped together as if some part of you wanted to beg him to not treat you like a danger waiting to happen. There was something painfully lonely about a man who saw betrayal and ruthlessness in every pair of eyes he encountered. "My heart never harboured any malice towards you. I wished to find you only to ask how you've been doing, whether all those years when you were stripped of freedom had corrupted any goodwill you once had." Unable to help your empathetic nature, your mind began conjuring all possible pain and misery he was forced to endure. Your gaze fell to the floor, for a moment admiring the hue of the flames dancing across the old carpet. "It is beyond my imagination to fantasize about what torment such cruelty must do to a human," you added quietly.

"I am not human."

"I know," you looked back at him but only for a moment. Morpheus had a curious habit of staring at you, maybe at everyone else too, in a very intense way and you found it difficult to hold his stare each time you wanted to or felt like you should. "But that doesn't necessarily mean you're invincible."

Suddenly, a piercing pain struck the left side of your chest - the same area where the blasphemous mark stained your skin. A fit of dry, suffocating cough shook your entire body. Weakness overtook your body and you would have fallen hard to the ground had Morpheus not caught you. Careful and anxious, he lay you on the nearby sofa with a washed-out floral print - it could be roughly his age. With the continued cough came spatters of blood that now stained your clothes and the antique day bed. Terrifyingly quickly, your eyes became bloodshot and a thin streak of crimson run down from your nostril. If Morpheus could get any more pasty white, he surely would have as such cruel magic was unfamiliar to him.

"The shelf..." you strained as your shaking hand vaguely pointed at an antique dresser filled with jars and tins that once sparked fear in Dream's mind. "Madrake... thyme... rosemary... throw in... in fire." Trying to desperately catch a breath, you wheezed between each word, a sickly whitening resounding in your constricted throat.

He didn't know what any of those plants looked like because he never had to. At that moment, when he opened the glass doors of the dresser with enough strength to tear them off, it all went down to the legibility of your writing and whether or not you had labelled the containers correctly. How funny it truly would be - to die because of one's own inattention in their own house like tyrants and heirs do; to suffer the consequences of one's actions with the mercilessness of gods of death. Morpheus rummaged through the dresser, throwing away any jar or tin that was not labelled as mandrake, rosemary or thyme. Perhaps, if you were a little further away from the line between life and death you'd feel a little upset at his carelessness.

When he finally found the correct herbs, Morpheus did not bother with maintaining correct proportions and so he simply opened the jars and threw all of their contents into the fire. He could, of course, dispute your orders as he was a king - not a simpleton to boss around. However, Dream knew better than to disregard a witch when black magic was at play.

The fire suddenly became purple and doubled if not tripled in its size and ferocity. Its flames licked the ceiling but never dared to set it ablaze. Just as swiftly the violet hearth returned to its original form and no change in its appearance could ever suggest something akin to supernatural had taken place inside that fireplace. With the blaze red and contained again, you gasped for air as the pain momentarily subsided. Although only minutes had passed since the curse sunk its teeth into your innocent skin, it felt as if it was the very first time in your life that you took such a deep breath and felt no unbearable, stinging pain. What a blessing it was, to be a victim only occasionally and not constantly.

Morpheus crouched next to you, remaining at your eye level. If you focused your exhausted mind, you could nearly see his face clearly. "Is this the curse your father put on you?" he asked quietly. But, truthfully, he didn't seek an answer. His question was more of an expression of disbelief. And how curious that disbelief was - that the King of Dreams found something unimaginable.

The blood on your shirt was the price of his freedom. If that was the fate of someone who took his side on their own accord, was it not also his affair? Morpheus could have stopped you that day and yet he didn't. Was he not, at least partially, responsible for those crimson stains? Priests often say that 'idle hands are the Devil's best friend' and Morpheus, in his convenient passiveness towards your brave though foolish choice, had both of them; he made a decision of making no decision and you were the one who suffered the consequences as if you weren't human but a figment of Shakespeare's imagination. He knew that if he lets your suffering continue, if he doesn't even try no matter the odds of success, he too could become of Shakespear's fantasy: as though he was the true Lady Macbeth, your blood wasn't going to wash off his pale skin, forever screaming into the void "He could! He could! And he didn't!"

And yet, you never spoke a bad word about your father, at least not to him. Should you not grieve this unfairness? Seeth at the greed and violence of the one man who was supposed to love you above all creation? Your father sentenced you to a cruel, painful and excruciatingly long death and you fed mallards on a winter morning. At that moment, for the first time since he met you, Morpheus finally saw you for what you really were. If you had no fury for such injustice, he was willing to lend you some of his. Oh but his rage... it was aeons old, rotting inside a heart that never dared to acknowledge its severity. It was fury audible in storms that drowned ships and felt in earthquakes that swallowed entire cities.

"Thank you," you whispered to him. "I suppose it's quite rude of me to faint on a stranger." Your words came out a little slurred.

"We are not strangers. Not anymore. You have seen to that." Although he never specified that, you knew he didn't necessarily mean saving your life.

"Good." Your gaze was hazy, vision becoming blurry as restful sleep forced itself on your eyelids. Despite that overwhelming exhaustion, a soft smile entered your face and Morpheus wondered if you gave that kind grin to everyone or only him. "I heard it's a bad practice to let strange men into one's home."

Seriously considering just coming up with a nice title and making this into a mini-series and not a thousand parts of one imagine... Thank you for all the kind words and support!

Tagging people who were interested in a follow-up: @rosaren2498 @jessiboobdbdb @chantzmar @lexi-anastasia @bisexualunicronrunningloose @farintonorth @oo0lady-mad0oo @all-bi-myselfs-blog @piperstofu101 @magic-magnoliaa @kotonei-molyneux @wheresmyboo @supermegapauselouca

[stellagibs0ns]

please let us see ur morally questionable bedannibal stuff pleaseeeeeeeeee let them come to light

this is simply my most recent word vomit

TW: extremely dubious consent, somno & implied drugging!

if it’s not your cup of tea do continue scrolling. but some of us like a bit of questionable content

Bedelia feels his hands on her waist before she registers exactly who it is. In her Ambien-hazy state, she makes no attempts to fight back or turn him down. She wonders, briefly, which of the two it would be. Is she steady enough to turn him down? Or would she have to fight?

Would she want to fight?

Bedelia makes a quiet sound. In return, she’s lulled by a quiet whisper beside her ear.

“Go back to sleep, Bedelia.”

It’s tempting. But the best she can do now is remain dazed and not entirely conscious.

His fingers reach down between her thighs, caressing her cunt. She isn’t wet — she has no reason to be. That does not sway him. He strokes over her folds with practiced fingers. She doesn’t stir. She simply slips back into her medicated daze, despite a quiet whine escaping her.

Her body, traitorous and twisted, gives him what he wants. The familiar warmth of wetness seeping out between her thighs. Still, no real reaction. A blurry outline of her predicament with no concrete plan to get out of it.

His fingers probe at her, before he slips two into her tight heat. Bedelia makes a muffled sound, her cheek pressed against the pillow as she tries to sharpen the world around her. Everything is vague and fuzzy, her limbs heavy with sleep.

She feels his cock through what she assumes is his pyjama pants, grinding against her hip as he works his fingers into her. She attempts to slur her protests, to no avail. Protests? Perhaps inquiries. She’s in no state to discern between the two.

She’s beginning to think that the pill she took was not Ambien at all, but rather something to keep her docile and pliant. His fingers are quick, and she’s grown careless after nights of sleeplessness.

She’s acutely aware of the heaviness of his breath in her ear and the sound of his fingers pumping into her slickness. Her hips subconsciously grind down against his fingers, seeking friction on her aching clit. If she were more aware of her surroundings, she would hate herself for this. Would she?

Bedelia makes another sound akin to a protest when he curls two fingers and leads her body to the edge of orgasm.

“Mmh—“

“Shhh,” she hears, but the voice sounds distant and disconnected. “Rest.”

She feels shuffling behind her, and her thigh is lifted by a strong hand. He wastes no time in pushing his cock into her, hissing at the way her body tightens subconsciously around him. The best she can do now is make quiet little whimpers, vague murmurings.

His fingers brush the blonde hair at the back of her neck aside, and he kisses her skin, greedy and slow. Her head lolls against the pillow each time she attempts to lift.

She feels his cock thrust into her, stretching her out with each movement. She rarely even masturbates anymore. She’s tight, probably painfully so. For who, she doesn’t know.

He thrusts into her relentlessly as she lies there placid and limp. His hand snakes around to settle over her lower stomach, almost threatening. His palm rests over her womb.

“I’m sorry to do it this way,” he murmurs against her ear. “But you cannot be trusted. Perhaps a baby will change your mind about trying to run.”

Somewhere inside, she’s shocked with fear, but it’s too deep and too far away to respond to in her state. Another whine of protest.

“Shhh,” he coos between thrusts. “You’ll make a beautiful mother.”

After another minute or so, she feels his body tighten, and he spills himself deep inside of her. Sleep threatens to pull her back under. Distantly, she feels him pull himself from her and tuck himself back into his pyjamas. His seed spills out of her and onto the bedsheets. Two fingers push it back in, almost clinically, before he kisses her hairline gently.

“Sleep,” he instructs quietly, almost lovingly. “I need your body in the best condition possible.”

She makes another incoherent moan, but soon succumbs to sleep.

“Goodnight, Bedelia.”

She doubts this will be the last time.

[bambibaby-afterhours]

Him [Tomura Shigaraki X Fem!NB!You]

wc: ??

cw/tw: Horror, Scary, Romance, Oral Sex, Sexual Assault, Explicit Sexual Content, Vaginal Sex, thigh riding, Wet Dream, Finger Sucking, Hand & Finger Kink, Succubi & Incubi, Cumplay, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, Shigaraki Tomura, Shimura Tenko, Deal with a Devil

"Dear god, I know that I haven't done this in a long time but just hear me out. In the eight-teen years that I've been living, I haven't asked you for anything besides a unicorn from when I was like five and I never got that so you sort of owe me. No, you don't owe me. I mean. It's just; I just really need your help or your guidance or whatever you can give me just, please. Please keep him away from me. I just can't take it-"

Your bedroom door slams open causing you to jump from your kneeling position at the foot of your mattress. It’s your mom, a strict business woman stuck in a four-foot eleven-inch tall body. She’s wearing her go-to outfit leggings, a T-Shirt, and baby Shawn on her hip.

"I've been calling you. Come down and have lunch with your family, remember them?" Her nostrils flared and jaw clenched. You bit your lip running your fingers through the roots of your hair, scratching at your scalp.

"Sorry mama, I'll come down now." She closed the door back and you listened as her footsteps faded. The wind whipped into your room filling it with the crisp cool spring air and causing your light-grey blackout curtains to billow and push against your desk. Homework for the break fell onto the floor.

You left the room as is and descended the stairs two at a time on your way to the kitchen.

"Hey, do you know what colleges you want to go to?" A deep sigh left your lips as Sam, your younger sister began her questioning.

"Not really." Your seat screeched as you pulled it out and the baby hiccuped preparing to cry if something else disturbed it.

"Do you want it to be diverse? What about a state you want to be in. What percent of minorities do you want in your school? What about class sizes?" She fired the same questions that mama had asked her earlier about her future high school and your jaw clenched.

"I don't know." The chair was cold against your thighs as you sat down. Your mom gave you a look then nodded her head at Sam, you ignored her and reached for a knife. You cut your sandwich diagonally twice then removed the crust before trading with Sam and doing the same with hers. The knife clattered as you sat it on your glass plate and the baby broke. Little Shawn screamed and squirmed in mama's arms as she practically jumped out of her seat and into the living room whilst juggling him.

"What the hell! She just got him to shut up a while ago." Sam jeered and you were quick to shove her off her seat, causing her to cry too.

"Shut up you big baby." You threw a piece of her sandwich at her with a sneer.

"Mama, mama. They told me to shut up!" Sam fled the kitchen, her yells, overpowering those of baby Shawn.

"Go to your rooms!"

You slam your bedroom door behind you sighing in frustration. It's too fucking early in the break for all of this. You pick up your break assignments off the floor and place them on the foot of your bed before flopping down beside them.

"Well, aren't you a little Devil?"

Your eyes fluttered open and you searched your room from your position on your bed. You frowned.

"Hello?" You listened attentively to the silence, stupidly waiting for a response from someone that wasn't there.

"Hello." Your breathing grew labored as a voice, the same as before, spoke to you.

I'm going mad and I’ll admit it now so you can start I road to recovery.'

“Who’s there?” It’s probably Sam in the baby monitor. You turn slowly looking at the ground in search of an extra shadow.

'Please be my imagination.'

“It’s me, sweetheart, don’t act stupid. We both know you’re a very intelligent person.” There it is, the shadow, standing next to the front of your window. It’s back.

“I don’t know who you are, you could belong to Peter Pan for all you know.” Your eyes flicker to your old softball bat as your feet carry you to your closet.

“Oh no sweetheart, I'm not the shadow.” The shadow flickers and then disappear from your view; soon after you feel fingers run down both sides of your neck. Your brain goes numb as you start to slowly turn to face the person touching you. Before you can make a full 180, their left-hand grabs you by the throat tightly and pulls you back into a body. You should be calling for help but your words churn in your stomach instead of escaping through your lips. The person then wraps their free arm around your waist and firmly holds onto your left hip, the tips of their fingers go into your pants.

“Nope. You don’t get to see me just yet,” The voice is closer now, like a surround sound speaker, it’s deep and gravelly despite the fact that they’re whispering, it’s a man. “Why aren’t you screaming for help?” His fingers squeeze the sides of your neck before he lets his hand travel up to your mouth that slightly hangs open.

Your head is spinning.

He pushes his index and middle finger into your mouth and then your body unfreezes. You bite down on his fingers as hard as you can and use your hands to try and to push away the arm he has around your waist. In retaliation, he rips his hand from your hip and grabs your jaw. He squeezes it and forces your mouth open. The fingers he has in your mouth go deeper until his hand is pushing your head against his shoulder and you're gagging. Your eyes water and your nose starts to burn as you try to breathe.

“You should’ve screamed when you had the chance.” He pulls your head to the side and runs his tongue across your collarbone and up your throat.

'I can’t get away. I need to get away.'

Tears slowly start to fall down your face and your knees buckle. The weight of your body puts a strain on your neck.

“Now be a good girl and keep still for me ok?” You can’t speak or refuse as he presses down on your tongue. Only a groan leaves your mouth. He mumbles out a 'good girl', strokes your jaw with his thumb, and relieves the pressure he was putting on your tongue.

“Now I want you to suck on my fingers.” There’s a small thump as he leans back against your bedroom wall bringing me with him. When you open your mouth wider as a refusal he squeezes you with both hands and bites down on your jaw. He doesn’t stop biting until you start sucking on his fingers.

The two of you stand still like that for what feels like hours until his free hand starts to move again. He drags it across your jaw, pinching at the bite mark he left, your throat, collarbone, and stops under your breasts. By now tears are streaming down your face

“Nod your head yes or no and be honest. Are sensitive here?” He lets one finger gently run across your chest through your shirt. You hesitate to respond. “Come on now. Yes or no?”

You nod yes.

“Good girl. Now I want you to open your mouth, keep it open, and breath through your nose. Don’t swallow.” As he speaks he nudges one of his legs between yours and uses both hands to push your hips down against his thigh.

“You know what I want you to do.” He brings his hand back to your mouth and sticks the same two fingers back in. You close your mouth around his fingers and start to grind against his thigh.

“You’ll keep going until you orgasm.” You try your hardest to get friction against your clit as you push yourself against his thigh but it’s too awkward. As if he notices he sighs.

“Turn and face me.” You do as you're told. You try to peak up at his face but you can’t see it. You can see everything else though; his strong neck that’s riddled in scars and jaw, his bare chest, stomach, thighs, everything. Except for his face.

“Get back on my thigh and finish.” I roll your hips against him, slowly working your way closer and closer to his abdomen until you're pretty much grinding against his hip. My stomach tightens and your feel your heartbeat in your clit. Reluctantly you rest your forehead against his shoulder and choke on his fingers as you try to moan. Suddenly your stomach loosens and you feel a release. You try to step away but he grabs you again. His hand grabbing you by the hair and shaking you, then pulling you close. He whispers to you lowly.

“That wasn’t an orgasm. I’ll show you what an orgasm is.” His fingers leave your mouth and a long trail of spit follows. That same hand grabs your face. You're disgusting. “Open your mouth.” You do as he says and he spits inside with the mouth you still can’t see. One, two, three times then tells you to swallow. The tears fall harder.

“Show me.” You open wide and show him your empty mouth. “Tongue out.” As soon as you stick it out he grabs it with his teeth. He bites and sucks at it before moving to your bottom lip. He pulls away slightly to demand that You kiss him. When you do he slowly moves his face away. Your kisses trail from his lips to his jaw, then his scarred throat, then his collarbone, and finally to his chest. He has pale skin and softly defines muscles. He groans out a good girl and pats your head.

He lets his hand move down to your crotch and feels you through your pants. He cups you for a moment then dips his hand into your pants and underwear.

“Bite me.” You bite on his collarbone and he sighs irritably. He pushes your head down near his nipple. “Go on.” You start to lick and nibble on the general area he put you until he starts to moan. His finger starts working at your pussy. He traces at the lips before opening them and placing his thumb against your clit.

'I shouldn’t be doing this.'

He pushes two fingers inside and starts to work your clit and G spot. You let out a high pitched whine.

This shouldn’t feel so good.'

You buck your hips trying to get more friction as he speeds up.

“Open your mouth like before. Keep it open. Every time you cum I get to spit in your little mouth. You get to swallow when you orgasm.” He grabs your throat again. A few minutes later and you're flush against him, needy and panting. He’s spit in your mouth twice so far.

“Take off your shirt.” As soon as it’s off he’s bending over and biting down on one nipple while his hand kneads the other. He slips a third finger inside and his legs start to shake. His hand and thigh is slick with my sweat and cum. Your room smells like it. Spit runs from your mouth, down your chin, and onto your breasts.

“Look at you all messy for me. Are you ready? I can tell you’re ready to orgasm. Come on now. Do it for me. Do it for daddy.” The pressure builds and when it releases your legs shake. You clutch to him as you moan. “Good girl. Now swallow for me.” You swallow and show him your now empty mouth.

"Lay on the floor.” You lay down and he kneels over you. His hands move down and start to pump his cock. Precum is already dripping from the tip and onto your bare stomach. “Do you want this? Do you want to take my cock baby girl? Do you want to be my good girl?”

You should say no. You need to say no.

“Yes please.”

“Please what?” He questions you as he pulls off your pants and pushes your underwear to the side.

“Please daddy. Please let me have your cock.” You wiggle and lift your hips to him as he lines up with your entrance. He rubs at your clit as he pushes into you.

You feel so good, almost too good.

Once he’s all the way in he pulls out and pushes back in, all while rubbing at your clit. Your breasts bounce as he moves faster and your toes curl as the pressure builds.

His forehead presses against yours and you still can’t see his face.

'My eyes aren’t closed, are they?'

“I’m going to-” He breaks his sentence to let a throaty moan. “I’m going to cum.” He stops rubbing at your clit to clutch at your body. He pulls you close and tilts your pelvis up to meet flush with his. His strokes change from fast short thrusts to long slow ones. He finally pauses to cum and I feel his cock twitching, the cum dripping from your hole.

He pulls out and pushes in two fingers. He rubs his cum all over your pussy and pushes it in further. He pulls out and presses his fingers against your face and into your mouth.

“Suck.”

You woke in your bed with your hand down the front of your pants.

'Fuck. Another dream.'

[wa-royal-tea]

Content Warning

Before we get back to the story, I’d like to inform my readers of the potentially triggering/nsfw content that we will be seeing in the next arc(s). I can’t stress this enough, but please filter out the tags I will be listing below and to please be responsible for your own mental health. I am not responsible for the content you consume. I’d like to say that the tags I’ll be listing is something I’d consider a “Dead dove; do not eat” situation. What you see is what you get. You’ve been warned.

As a precaution, I’ll also be pinning these tags in my masterpost in case new readers comes in. I’ll categorize the possible triggering/nsfw content(s) in two; one that I will tag and one that will not be tagged.

The tags I will be using for the triggering/nsfw content(s) are:

sims spice

tw dubious consent (implied)

tw infertility (discussed)

tw child loss (discussed)

tw miscarriage (discussed)

tw pregnancy complications

tw death

Content(s) that you will see in the next arc that will not be tagged are:

cheating / infidelity

elements of gaslighting / manipulation

unplanned pregnancy

cyberbullying

poisoning (implied)

If you are uncomfortable with these kind of content(s), please filter or blacklist it. You can learn how to block the tags here and for xkit filtering, you can read how to use them here. And if I ever use the new community label, you can set it to hide, blur, or show. Up to you, really. I’ll probably only use this for extremely graphic content(s). So if you still want to read my story but want to prepare yourself first, you can choose the blur settings. If you don’t want to see those triggering/nsfw content(s) at all, you can hide it. You can learn how to do it here. So once again, I’d like to kindly ask you to please be responsible for your own mental health and block the tags I listed above 🙆🏽‍♀️

Thank you! ❤

[victorcross]

VN REVIEW! Particles of Obsession

obviously have to do my first review with the game that basically inspired my vn marathon and is part of my blog theme. also I know the creator has a tumblr if you see this hiiiii

the basics: you're monika viotto, a college student working at a cafe. school sucks, life kinda sucks, you've gone through a lot and are just trying to make the most of it now. buuut unfortunately, you're not allowed to have a happy ending. you do at least have 5ish love interests though who make you suffer and/or suffer with you though?

available on steam and itch.io, full game is $30, alexander route dlc is $5, free demo

contains 18+ scenes, options to censor; sexual content scenes/cgs, dubious consent scenes/cgs, and descriptions of violence

MANY endings, extra content, and a walkthrough for each character

I'm not good at summaries but while avoiding any spoilers, all the above and the fact this game has a billion trigger warnings attached to it and on every character's page is all you really need to know. if you can handle a lot of extreme dark themes (listed on the game's page) I recommend trying out the free demo at least and seeing if it's for you!

and with that out of the way: actual review portion! spoilers abound

immediately must put it straight I Love this game and admire the clear passion and love (tough love. to be more fitting) put into this.

if you're really just looking for a straight up yandere experience your mileage will vary because you get that plenty out of sebastian and unfortunately brandon, while julian is like 3/4ths there and quinn is simply too normal for that (I can't speak for alexander since I haven't bought his dlc I would assume he's also like 3/4ths there). if you're also fairly interested in the purely narrative portions and can give our mc a fair shot, you'll probably enjoy it more

in general without getting really into specifics of the story or characters, it is an extremely dark story with a lot of triggering elements but I feel there's a lot of grace and tact towards all the subject matter that stops it from being unnecessarily disturbing or like it's purely for shock and I applaud that considering the darkness of the game is like part of the selling point. I love the writing and pacing, and it doesn't take itself too seriously or too silly it knows the right time and place for everything and the characters all have some level of charm to them. even characters with little presence generally feel like they really do have personality and life to them

I feel like this game really is worth the price, it honestly has so much packed in I feel like I have been spoiled because I play other vns and I'm like sigh....... I miss particles of reality. like there's so many endings with wildly different outcomes, your choices are spaced out well and can HEAVILY change the events, there's very few that are purely for like random minor dialogue differences and otherwise pointless. genuinely is a Your Choice Matters game even if you can only like die or suffer for the rest of your life but you're told that in the tagline basically

also the extensive trigger warnings are really good they're not something I personally need but I absolutely appreciate the fact they're there and how thorough they are as well as the censorship options

the only thing that has bothered me really has been that some of the ui is kinda plain but that's the artist in me I don't think people care that much

good game. anyways story and characters. tw for incest on brandon

so firstly I have to acknowledge the worldbuilding. there is actually a supernatural element to all this which IS mentioned in the game description but I am illiterate and only look at pretty pictures so it caught me off guard. basically there are these meta guardians who oversee reality and I'm not very into this aspect of the game so I'm blurry on the specifics but basically all the timelines are canonical, alternate universe are also canonical, and all have something to do with monika who as far as they can tell is just a regular human but they abruptly end when she either meets a horrible fate or dies, and reality is breaking. it's not understood why by anyone (even by the end of the game) and there's some shady shit going on in the guardian hierarchy.

again hasn't really piqued my interest so I won't get really into it or anything, but it is like a whole side to everything I feel like I have to address it. it isn't a detriment to the game, it adds an interesting layer of mystery and explains the whole existence of the vn which I find endearing. fun mystery to learn more of in the sequel! (I need to play the demo for it.....) the guardians investigating this also pop up to comment on the routes on occasion which may be annoying to some people but I think it's cute and they are funny sometimes. it's also not a frequent occurrence, mostly only happens at the beginning of each route and the separate sections with them only last a couple of minutes so they don't overstay their welcome or anything

moving on, our mc monika! I actually replaced her name at the beginning with mine and couldn't reset it so I was like wtf was it again.... thank you brandon's character profile. anyways

basically. I love her I find when mcs of media like this to be completely healthy people with normal happy lives/childhoods it can sometimes be really annoying so I think she is delightful and perfect for the kind of story this is. I think she's very realistic and well written for her background and personality and as someone who has fortunately not been in the mafia but has my fair share of troubles and history with unhealthy relationships I can relate to her and see why she does the things she(/you. I guess) does and her logic behind it. idk it was crazy to me that people in reviews found her annoying or stupid I don't think she does anything atrociously dumb there's always a clear line of thought or reason she chooses to do something or why she acts the way she does

there is a fair amount of focus on her character and background which is extremely sad but it may be a bother if you don't really care about her as a character and just want to get in the guys' pants but I LIKE HER!!!! I think she wraps everything up in a nice depressing bow. also she's funny sometimes

speaking of getting into pants though. love interest thoughts. you can play them in any order (aside from one) but the order they're listed in seems to be the intended way which is also how I'm going through them

first we have sebastian the poster child. he also has the most endings and general just appearances/presence of all the guys so if you like him you will have a fucking ball and if you don't like him it'll be a nightmare his presence is not limited to his own route at all despite the fact that outside of his route you are complete strangers he's just a really dedicated stalker. I think it is so so funny.

he started pursuing monika when he was 14 and she was 10 which is not the type of creepy weird inappropriate behavior I accept I do/did like him outside of that but with that knowledge I'm like oughhh.... he was never a good person anyways but that singlehandedly made him unsexy

about his character though it makes sense he is the poster boy because he lives and breathes the obsession theme he is delusional and wants to do everything he can to be the perfect boyfriend in your eyes and do things right by you but at the same time his selfish desire to have you overtakes him and all good will he has towards you. he literally cannot live in a world without you and you're the only thing he wants

I find he oddly has the least backstory or explanation to why he is the way he is compared to all the other characters/love interests? we know he is from an enemy mafia family that was shockingly a kind of healthy environment as far as a mafia family can be I suppose and we actually can play their meeting via brandon's route and I have found like 0 reason why sebastian becomes INSTANTLY fixated and obsessed with monika it's just love at first sight and he says as much. which is pretty flimsy and nonsensical that it's taken to the degree it is especially when the other love interests do have a clear reason why they love her and aren't obsessed to that degree

that's like my only real complaint about his writing otherwise he's very fun and the obsessiveness is such a ride, I found his routes really enjoyable and Eventful I can't recall other thoughts on him anymore because I did literally all of his endings and extras before doing the other characters so they've just left the building

also this is the funniest thing he ever says in my opinion yes it's around the same time as the last quote I showed.

my favorite ending with him was "not the one" it was the most unique to me both in what happened and how sebastian reacted and broke, it was really interesting

julian oh julian....

I have to premise that I DO like him he is very cute and endearing to me but I don't like his route as a love interest I basically only like him as monika's coworker friend with an unrequited crush. like there's a number of things that make him not really work for me

1. the dragon thing. like I do put my best effort to take everything presented sincerely as such but I simply cannot do it for the dragon thing I'm so so sorry I like the thought though. 2. ash he's convinced he has DID and ash is another personality but actually ash is just some demon or something possessing him and when julian dies ash will just possess another person and I honestly cannot understand it... why doesn't he just actually have DID? like if ash comes back in the next game remembrance I guess I can understand that more but otherwise I don't get why that isn't the case besides to either avoid doing the whole evil murder alter thing (which functionally is still what is happening) or demonizing DID in general

beyond that I think it's just a matter of preference I LOVE his personality and his backstory I simply am not into the serial killer aspect nor want him as my boyfriend. I want him as my friend he's cool. yay ❤️

my favorite ending of his was until you're mine

Brandon. is your brother so he's certainly not MY love interest because I'm not into that but I do think he is a really interesting and compelling character

his route is more of a backstory route than a brandon dating sim but brandon is like the only person in monika's like before going to college so it's like. what you would expect. very depraved. there's copious amounts of NSFW scenes between them moreso than any other character which is insane. I do ultimately understand why he developed an attraction and attachment to monika just due to the isolation and having no other person he feels emotionally close with so I feel like it makes sense he turned out the way he did and I do have some sort of empathy for him. he's very human and a horrible person. I didn't enjoy the sex scenes at all for obvious reasons but I can't objectively say they were like distasteful to write in at all

(also this is completely irrelevant but the fact he's into anime is so fucking funny I can't stand it imagine arguing with a guy on an anime forum and he's actually a member of the mafia with like a billion people in his kill count. I know this guy wants to try sprinkling japanese in his conversations like a middle schooler and has to hold it back for professionalism)

ouhhhh my baby darling quinn. I love quinn so dearly and their endings all suck so bad I'm so sorry

he feels like the most human of all the characters, they are very grounded and also the most normal and empathetic (which I will expand on in a bit) their route when you go with them to visit their family, feels the most emotionally intimate to me. like he feels like a person I would actually meet and could love in real life. I love them a lot!

being sane and grounded in this game is kind of a death sentence though so that's how I'd sum up quinn's routes they almost all end with monika and quinn being killed/kidnapped/etc by OTHER CHARACTERS so like I don't even have a favorite ending for him. because quinn almost never does anything to cause these bad endings they're a saint as much as they can be unlike with the other characters so it's not as fun as being kidnapped by sebastian when it is Quinn's route and quinn did nothing to earn the fate he got

I still loved playing through his endings but I was like damn can't quinn kill me this time instead!!! they try that actually in one but nonetheless

my true favorite ending is the extra what-if scenario where he's a yandere which honestly would have been really interesting to see me more of but you know. I am biased.

secret guy jumpscare pretend there's a picture of him here I do not have the motivation to grab one

as you may be able to tell by my url. I like victor. from the get go I thought he was the hottest guy so I was very eager to play his route

unfortunately his is extremely short and is a linear story where he's just killing your ass the whole time because he retains memories from all the timelines and he is utterly sick of you but I enjoyed it thoroughly even with his short time he is full of a lot of character and considering everyone likes you so badly it's very fun to throw in a guy that not only hates you but is fully aware of what's happening

he does make extremely short appearances in other routes (I think he only speaks in one of them?) too which is cute and also makes it funnier to me knowing that he's actually seething the entire time. the detail of his eyes always being open in the menu (unlike the other characters who have them closed until you hover on them) is also a little plus. I want to see more of him I miss him so bad

ANDDD that's everyone/everything.

when you finish the game you get character interviews and they're so cute good fuel. I may buy alexander dlc sometime and if I do I'll give it its own mini post I also want to play the remembrance demo...

this game says there is no happy ending except there is exactly one and it's the one scenario where monika is an only child and she gets with her bodyguard after throwing julian and sebastian out I'm so happy for you queen

[pupscum]

Welcome to my trash pile, aka the dragon hoard of possums!

I put all my nasty thoughts for characters and/or myself. I reblog what I enjoy, maybe post some thoughts about some characters or things I find hot.

Warnings and Nav. down below ⬇️

Tagging System

yips.txt - original posts/asks

(Character).txt - text post about a character

(Character).png - image/media post about a character

(Character).doc - fanfic/story story about a character

biohazard.txt - nsft text post

biohazard.png - nsft image based post

tw: (subject) - red flag content

three cheers.🏆 - solid favorite, satan himself grabbed me by the dick with this post

☢️Kinks/Warnings☢️

Quick general disclosure: I cannot tag every possible kink or trigger on a post. Everyone is different and while that is wonderful and no one should ever feel bad for them, I cannot read minds. Therefore only a few harder kinks will be tagged when reblogged/posted. But there is a tier system-ish? Warranted to change but I will try to announce any new changes!

General kinks to be expected, harder kinks to be expected, hard kinks that will be tagged and will not post/black flag kinks that will never be here.

✨What to expect✨

Petplay, sweat/musk, age difference, size difference, biting, marking, monsters (including aliens etc.), breeding (this won’t include pregnancy/mpreg), bondage,orgasm denial/overstimulation, cum marking/play/bukkake, gangbang/multiple, body worship, skin on skin, spit/drool, wax play, toys

☣️Handle with care☣️

Impact play, objectification/sex doll/breeding bitch etc., free use, extreme dom/sub themes, manipulation/toxic relationships, excessive cum, blood/cutting kink, branding, sadist/masochist themes, somnophilia, intoxication(this will NOT include alcohol), Breath play, degradation(including slurs f*ggot and tr*nny)

(Some of these may overlap with content that is tagged, will vary based on degree mostly based on how much it dips into dub/non-con/extremeness)

🔥WARNING🔥

Rape/non-consensual(tw: noncon), dubious consent(tw: dubcon), medical kink(tw: medical), gore/wound fucking(tw: gore), faux/incest (tw: incest), cannibalism (tw: cannibalism)

✖️☠️Not in this house☠️✖️

Emetophilia, coprophilia, pissplay, vomit, farts, STI/STD(bugging), diapers, necrophilia, zoophilia, bestiality, race play, wound fucking, ageplay, pedophilia, underage, fisting, detransitioning/force fem or masc,

About

Alright, now that all that important enough stuff if out of the way, hey there! Call me Possum 🤘, thanks for reading all of that. Just a bit about me to get things out of the way:

Midwestern, shortie stoner with way too much time on his hands. Got them fictional men on the brain basically 24/7 while I’m drawing, sewing or just vibing. My favorite color is red, favorite combo of colors is black, white and red or red with a green heavy teal! Chefs kiss, it gets me every time.

Some other characters/fandoms to expect besides my current hyperfixaction: Sandor Clegane (Games of Thrones), Dabi (My Hero Academia), William Afton (Five Nights at Freddy’s), Hannibal Lecter/Will Graham (NBC Hannibal) and so many…many more that I cannot possibly remember to keep track until it pops up lol.

Let’s fucking goooo!!! 🤘

[voxofthevoid]

is your new wip going to have a mild "kidnapping" situation or is it the Serious kidnapping kind, a la stockholm syndrome ? because i am intrigued but also not sure about potential tws

It's going to be slathered with content warnings xD

The kidnapping itself starts out well intentioned (if extreme) but then it ventures into darker territory because of overarching themes of obsession and corruption.

Yesterday's excerpt is pretty tame since it's pre-kidnapping. But the fic as a whole is my favorite flavor: sustained psychological fuckery. The overall tone is a mix of moods because Yuuji Be Like That, but it's a fairly fucked up fic.

Based on what I've written so far and my outline, here's a non-comprehensive list of warnings: Stockholm syndrome, Lima syndrome, dubious consent, non-consensual finger consumption (very specific, I know), obsession, possessive behavior, mild to moderate vore, interplay of sex and violence, identity issues, mild body horror.

[thus-spoke-lo]

Another question for you friends, but not a poll because it needs some nuance (tw for discussing dubcon vs non-con fic labelling below cut)

When it comes to labeling a fic “extremely dubious consent” vs. “non-con” (and here comes my disclaimer that I know there is no dubcon irl!), is it simply that someone eventually enjoys it, or there is some underlying element of desire?

What I mean is—if say, reader is clearly coerced/forced to do something, but eventually enjoys it and there is a clear or implied interest in what is happening to them that occurs during the story, would you just consider that extremely dubious consent? Would you label it additionally with, say, “elements of non-con”?

I’m just sort of wading in the waters of dark content rn, and most of my dubcon stuff has very clear through lines of “reader has always had sexual interest in this person so it’s kinda fine!” But the pieces I’m working on rn don’t have that clearly defined at all. What would you do, dear writers (and readers)?

[13thwitch]

guidelines

before interacting.

About the writer: Marianne, 29, she/her, EST. I’ll answer to Ani or Mari, as well. This blog will feature triggering material, including plot-appropriate violence, sex, drug/alcohol use, discussion of abuse, and other potentially triggering content. I will tag all common triggers, and almost anything I am asked to tag (formatted as #tw: [trigger]). Please take care if you follow!

Please tag cancer, sexual violence of any kind (including ‘dubious consent’ and somnophilia), and images of spiders.

on interacting & following.

This blog is mutuals only. If I follow you, I want to write with you! OCs, multimuses, and crossovers are always welcome! I don’t make starter calls, so if we’re mutuals please feel free to send memes, turn meme replies into threads, message me to plot, or like my plotting call if you’d like to interact.

My time is limited and this is for fun and I will not follow, unfollow, or block users as I see fit. If I unfollow or block, it’s simply because I don’t want to see something on my dash; it’s not a personal statement against someone. For my own comfort, I will only follow back writers who are 21+ and have that age range present on their blogs. If I unfollow because your blog has been inactive for a while, please let me know when you come back! I don’t experience duplicate (character or face claim) anxiety or insecurity.

Standard rules apply: don’t romanticize Nazis, don’t be an asshole about “dark themes” (which can be written well & respectfully), and don’t guilt and manipulate your followers. I won’t interact with portrayals that engage in whitewashing or racist recasting, or transphobic recasting. I don’t enjoy writing with characters that are completely devoid of flaws, vulnerabilities, or weaknesses; it’s just not any fun for me when the rules of whichever universe we’re playing in don’t apply to one of the characters involved.

I don’t have a lot of patience for public nastiness. Everyone vagues from time to time, and that’s not a huge deal, but everyone here is an amateur and publicly disparaging another amateur’s harmless work—which has been presented to you without layers of editing by various professionals—doesn’t make you funny or interesting, it makes you kind of an asshole. We’re all too old for this. On that note, I’m not interested in seeing callouts that amount to airing personal grievances.

on canon & fandoms.

THE SOURCE MATERIAL FOR THIS BLOG IS EXTREMELY DISTURBING AND FEATURES TRIGGERING CONTENT. PLEASE DO NOT FOLLOW THIS BLOG IF IT WILL BE HARMFUL TO YOUR WELL-BEING. Canonically, the show deals with topics including cancer, parent death, adoption trauma, drugging, rape, incest, abuse (including psychological, emotional, physical, and sexual) and gaslighting, forced pregnancy and childbirth, and both pregnancy and childbirth as horror themes. Major, recurring themes include bodily autonomy, gaslighting and abuse recovery, and generational trauma. Please proceed with caution and only follow this blog if you're comfortable seeing those themes represented and explored.

I love crossovers and AUs and have a million of them. Any verses with significant canon divergence, or significant canon intervention, will have extended biographies available to read. There are only a handful of fandoms I will not interact with, for my own comfort and preferences. Find the list here.

on relationships.

I love playing with established relationships of any nature. Come and plot with me if you want to jump right into a dynamic of any kind! I am always open to new ships — I love shipping, and it’s one of my favorite things about collaborative writing. You are always welcome to approach me to talk about ships; it’s not force-shipping in the slightest, and chances are, I’m already excited about it.

This show deals very heavily with incest, generational trauma, abuse, and sexual violence. While any and all of these topics may be referenced (in threads or in her backstory), I won't write incest (relationships between second cousins, or closer). I will not at any point ship Rowan with Lasher; while I will explore the abuse to which he subjected her, and her fascination with and even attraction to the power he possesses, he did abuse her (and her mother, and likely every other designee). Whenever that relationship is referenced, it will be treated as abusive. While I am very comfortable writing complicated relationships, I won't romanticize abuse or toxicity, or write explicit abuse scenes.

Unlike the show's writers, I do not see Ciprien as "deranged," "controlling," or "just like Carlotta," and will not be writing their relationship as such, nor will I write Rowan as considering him to be any of those things.

Here’s a quick rundown on my shipping policies.

on content.

Please understand that the source material I draw from deals with extremely triggering material, including (but not limited to) canonical violence, sex, drug/alcohol use, abuse, incest, and forced pregnancy and childbirth. All of these topics will be dealt with on this blog with care and gravity, and will be appropriately tagged. Please take care of yourself!

All NSFW images and text will be tagged as #nsfw; and will neither write nor reblog NSFW content regarding minors.

My formatting is minimal and I don’t use icons often, or unless requested. I use the beta editor. I don’t care about perfect grammar or spelling, and will ask if I need clarification on anything. I won’t follow anyone sacrificing accessibility for aesthetics, including with photoshop replies, impossible-to-see icons, and purple prose excessive to the point of being incomprehensible.

If you are uncomfortable with anything you see here, please let me know. I am not perfect and I am sure I’ll make mistakes; if that happens, and you’re comfortable, tell me, and I’ll make every effort to fix it and to be better in the future, in the case of me doing something harmful.

credit.

exclusives and mains.

[mindninjax]

What Once Was Mine

Pairing: Kirishima x Bakugo x Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.2K (I'm so sorry)

Warnings: Angst, , Sex pollen, Extremely Dubious Content/ Noncon (because of the sex pollen just in case), Love Triangle, Breath play, Spit roasting, Double Penetration, Cumflation, Some Degradation, Praise, Breeding, a little Bit of Rimming, sooooo much cum, Spit, Some KrBk action., some butt stuff bahaha,yannow fingies in booty

a/n: OK here it is. First fic for the Tales of the Dark Arts. This fic gave me GRIEFFFF goodness gracious. A huge goddamn thank you to my wife @whats-her-quirk for beta reading this and helping me SO much with this. I love you forever my darling. OK soooo it's angsty ok sorry I admit it. But it's a spoopy story it's gotta be! So I decided to take out the warning for the alternate ending. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy this. Please go easy on me ok? IT's my first threesome fic and I am so fucking nervous. As always I appreciate everyone who clicks on this and gets through the entire thing because it is a MONSTER. Without further ado... here we go.

It’s not him. It’s not him anymore.

He’s in your sights, red spiky hair burning your eyes as the crosshair lines up perfectly between his eyebrows. It’s cool outside, the crisp October wind bites your cheek. It feels too cold to be October. If the world were normal you’d be picking pumpkins right now, hand in hand with the man you love as he smiled and looked at you like you were the greatest thing to ever happen to him.

If.

A gruff voice intrudes your thoughts. It’s intense, agitated, and worried. “If you can’t do it I ca—“

“I can do it, Katsuki.”

His words are sliced by your tone and your eyes never leave the scope as you watch your target through the window, waltzing proudly around the apartment, your apartment.

You feel a big hand on the small of your back rub gently up and down your spine trying to soothe you. His arm drapes over you protectively as you perch with the huge sniper poised against your shoulder. He’s warm, his touch tender and wrong, yet it does its job in keeping you calm and making you feel safe. It should be innocent, maybe even accepted considering you two might actually be the last two alive in the city.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. Katsuki’s hot glare burns the side of your face. The talk the two of you had before scaling up this building to sit on the roof across from your old home nestles in your brain and clouds your thoughts.

He’d held your face between his hands and made you look deep into his crimson eyes as he spoke. His thumb moved over the soft skin of your cheek, his lips pursed and the edges of them twitched like he was holding something back.

“I’ll take the shot. You don’t gotta worry about it.”

“No. It should be me. I’ll do it.”

“Tch, don’t try to be a fucking hero. I promised him I’d--”

“I know what you promised him, but I’m not gonna let him stay one of those things forever. I can do this.”

“Fine. But don’t you fucking die.”

A distant scrape of shoes on gravel pulls you back to reality, both your and Katsuki’s heads whipping around toward the direction of the foreign sound. You drop the gun as Katsuki puts a finger to his lips and urges you to keep quiet. He coils into a defensive crouch, taking a small step toward the sound before you grasp his arm tightly. You widen your eyes and shake your head, digging your fingers into his muscles.

Don’t go.

He reaches out for you, his hand caressing your cheek as his eyes soften and again his lips twitch with an unspoken confession. You see the softness in his eyes, the vulnerability before it fades quickly and his eyebrows furrow.

He swipes his hand from your face and grips the barrel of the gun, turning it back toward the window of your apartment. He looks pointedly down at it, then at the window and back to you with a scolding glower.

Don’t you fucking miss.

Panic bubbles in your gut as he takes another step toward the noise and you reposition your aim back to your target. He’s right. You have to finish this. He looks back over his shoulder and you flash him a pleading look in response.

You can feel tears pooling in your eyes but you take a deep breath to try and hold them back. He sighs quietly then tiptoes back over to wrap you in a tight hug. You bury your face in his neck sighing at his warmth. He grinds his teeth, like he’s struggling to keep his composure, then he quickly kisses the top of your head before pulling you back and whispering.

“Don’t. Die.”

He nods once and then he’s slinking back into the darkness toward the noise and you’re lining up your shot again. The wind licks at the back of your neck as you think to yourself over and over, please be ok and it’s not him anymore. You take a deep breath, still your trembling shoulders, place your finger on the trigger and peep through the scope again.

The breath leaves your lungs in a second as angry red eyes peer back at you through the scope. He’s seen you. You’re finished.

A sharp pain on the back of your head radiates through your body and you can’t make anything else out. A name muttered from your lips as you fall back onto the gravel of the roof is the last thing your attacker hears before you lose consciousness.

“Eiji.”

And then, darkness.

When you come to, dancing colors swirling behind your lids fade into one. Red. Your eyes flutter open and you can see plush red carpet. You try to flex your limbs, and realize you can’t move. Your toes dig into the soft carpet, wrists struggling against something—rope? Maybe?—and your head feels heavy, like you can barely raise it. It takes what feels like hours for you to understand you're tied to a chair. Your head aches and there’s something sticky dripping down the side of your face.

Tapping. There’s something tapping in the room with you. It’s annoying and it hurts. It’s tapping against a pain nerve in your head and you’re hopelessly wishing it would stop. There's too much red, it spells out anger, frustration, danger. The room smells damp, like suffocating wet musty air that pushes on your lungs. You cough and for the first time since waking up you realize you’re not alone in the room.

“Hey! Finally awake, sleepy head?”

The voice is familiar, but not. It’s chipper and comforting but forced. It doesn’t elicit the feeling of relief or joy it would’ve months ago. Still, if you don’t think too hard about it, you can almost trick yourself into thinking it’s ok.

“Eijirou?” you look up at him, hopeful, leaning forward in your chair. He’s leaning against the bedpost, tapping his fingers against the wooden footboard and smiling a big goofy grin at you.

You blink; that bed post looks familiar. In fact, this entire room looks familiar. In addition to the red feeling too overbearing, it’s also strangely comforting. You shift your eyes quickly to check out your surroundings.

There’s a black comforter and bedspread on the bed, neatly made with comfortable looking pillows propped up. Two wooden bedside tables sit on either side of the bed. A large dresser in the corner, lined with perfumes and lotions, long flowy red curtains that hang down to the floor near the sliding doors that lead to the balcony. And lastly, the painting perched above the bed of two people happily gazing into each other’s eyes, a diamond ring on the woman’s finger.

Your eyes burn with tears as you stare at the painting, the man’s spiky red hair and sharp toothed grin is more than beautiful and the woman looks completely smitten with her lover.

This is your bedroom. The room you used to share with Eijirou before...

“Yeah babe, in the flesh! Didya miss me?”

The man speaking bounds up to you like an excited dog. He stands before you and you study his features closely. He certainly looks like Eijirou, but there’s something off about him. His smile feels a little too happy, pulled too tight like a doll who’s had their mouth sewn into a smile. It isn’t authentic. It isn’t him.

“Y...you’re not him,” you say sadly, dropping your head.

The imposter scoffs, clearly taken aback by your words. “What’re ya talking about babe? Of course it’s me.”

Every time it speaks it rips at the hole in your chest. It feels like you can’t breathe. How could anyone know how terrifying it was to look at someone you thought you knew and have it so clearly not be them? Especially when your heart desperately wished it would be them.

“Stop. Stop! Stop pretending to be him. You're not him. You could never be him!” you shout as tears pour down your dirty cheeks.

The invader chuckles, and it’s not light or fun, it’s evil and slimy and it makes your skin crawl.

“Aww come on. The last thing I want is to see my pretty girl cry,” it says.

You seethe at the nickname falling from this thing’s dirty lips. A name only reserved for you from the man you love. Clearly, it’s toying with you.

“Don’t. Don’t call me that. Don’t you fucking dare,” you hiss, anger pulsing through your veins.

The monster bends down on its knees in front of you and moves uncomfortably close to your face. You can feel its warm breath on you and it almost makes you gag.

“Or what? Will you kill me? You couldn’t pull the trigger on the roof. What makes right now any different?”

It doesn’t smile, it doesn’t assure you everything’s ok. It doesn’t do anything your Eijirou would do. When it smiles it’s wicked, when it speaks only filth comes out. It’s dirty, disgusting and bile rises in your throat when you think about that thing crawling around inside of him and using him as it’s puppet. It’s eyes look far away. There’s no warmth, no personality. Your Eijirou is gone.

Yet it feeds on your unsureness, your wavering resolve in killing him—no, it. Eijirou would never want to be used by it. You’d be saving him. It’s only right to end him. And after, they can have you. It won’t matter when he’s gone. Nothing will matter in a world without Eiji. You’ve already lost him. How is killing him any different?

So why couldn’t you shoot? Why couldn’t you pull the trigger? Why is there a lump in your throat, burning at the idea of losing the man you love?

No. He’s already gone. It is not him. You spit a huge glob of congealed liquid in its face.

“Fuck you,” you hiss as viciously as you can.

It slowly stands, wiping the mess from where it landed between its eyes and nose. The calm, malicious look on its face is so foreign to you, it really does look like a completely different person. Then it lifts its huge, hulking arm back, muscles flexing as it stretches and slaps you hard across the face.

The momentum causes the chair to topple backward, your cheek burns and you’re brought to tears from the heat of its slap. When your head knocks against the floor, you accidentally bite down on your lip so hard you taste blood. The searing pain spreads up the side of your face and as much as you try, you can’t stop the tears from flowing.

It stands the chair back up right and you glare at it, wincing at the salty tears flowing into the cut on your lip.

“You should mind your manners. What would your little friend think if he saw you acting like this?”

You gasp. Is it talking about Katsuki? You look up at it now, wide eyes pleading for an explanation. “What did you do to Katsuki?”

“You’ll find out soon enough babe.”

No. Did they get him too? What did it mean “find out soon enough”? Did those things turn him into one of them? He’s all you had left. You feel like you’ve been hit in the chest too many times. It’s hard to breathe, your heart doesn’t just hurt, it aches.

Katsuki’s face flashes in your memory. You can almost feel his hands caressing your cheek again, wiping away the tears that involuntarily pour down your face at the thought of losing him. You remember the gentle press of his lips on your head and how tight he held you. His last words to you.

Don’t. Die.

The invader bends down next to your face again. It buries its face in your neck and inhales deeply as you lean away from it in disgust.

“You smell good. I knew you would be perfect,” it whispers against your cheek.

“Perfect for what?”

“Reproduction of course. It’s a species' primary goal. To reproduce.” It shrugs it’s shoulders as if this is obvious.

Is that what they’re doing? You’d noted to Katsuki when the two of you were researching if the hosts were able to be saved that the invaders never seemed interested in “taking over” the women. They were always captured and taken away while the men were regurgitated on and taken over by the parasites.

You curl your lip up in disgust. “If you think I’m going to let you do anything to me, you--”

“I’m not stupid. Our species happens to be far more advanced than yours. So don’t worry. I have a solution.” It smiles wickedly, breathes in deeply then exhales.

The air is cloudy and thick all of a sudden. Something wistful like smoke surrounds you. It billows up and around your nose, but it moves like it has a mind of its own. It reminds you of the smoke in old cartoon shows, beckoning to the characters, drawing them in with its seductive grip.

Seductive? What? Why would you be thinking about that at a time like this? You try to shake your head, clear your mind, focus on what’s happening right in front of you, but the view is starting to fade away. Your eyes feel heavy, but you don’t feel sleepy; there’s something, something you can’t explain, but something sitting heavy like a rock in your stomach.

As it continues to sit, it moves down between your legs and feels as if it’s vibrating. It feels good and you hum a little to yourself. The bedroom changes into a scene of you being rocked calmly back and forth in a boat on high waves. It’s soothing, safe, everything feels right.

Eiji’s voice is in your ear and again you hum in amusement. He sounds as if he’s singing to you, and when he holds your arms, loosening something that’s making your wrists feel heavy, you giggle and thank him for removing them.

“Oh, that didn’t take long at all,” Eijirou says with a smirk.

He lifts you up then, pulling you into his arms and you stumble like a newborn deer into his chest. You look up at him with a goofy grin and he leans in, puckering his lips to kiss you. This is what you’ve been waiting for. To kiss your Eiji again. You stand up on your tiptoes, leaning in to his advance.

Suddenly an explosion flips the boat you're lying in and sends you crashing into the deep rocking waves. The scene melts away and it becomes painfully clear it was all in your head. You see broken glass and Katsuki standing with a gun pointed at...you. He’s breathing heavily and looks vicious, like he wants to attack you. But why? Why would he want to attack you?

You feel a huge hand wrap around you and grasp your throat tightly. You cough trying to gasp air into your lungs but the hand constricts your air passage. You can feel a hard body on your back, you can’t move but that heavy thing is still sitting and vibrating between your thighs.

“Take your filthy fucking hands off of her,” Katsuki says to you. No, not to you, to the thing behind you.

That’s right. Suddenly it’s clear again and you remember your situation. The alien is using you as a shield. It drugged you somehow, made you see things that weren't there and feel tingly and weird. But how? You meet Katsuki’s eyes and he tries to give you a quick expression that asks if you’re ok. You try to nod but the parasite chokes you so you can’t speak or move.

“Or what dude? You’ll shoot me? Good luck shootin’ around her. You’re good, but your aim isn’t that good. ” the thing says. It pisses you off how it tries to mimic the way Eiji speaks.

You see Katsuki’s finger twitching on the trigger. The stupid thing is right. Katsu won’t risk hurting you to kill it. More of the wispy smoke floats around the room. It slowly snakes over to Katsuki and he fans it away in annoyance. It clicks then, the smoke. That’s what drugged you. If it infects Katsu too, your enemy could easily kill him when he starts to hallucinate like you did. You have to warn him.

The imposter Eijirou tightens his grip around your throat. His fingers squeeze, constricting your trachea and stopping air from reaching your lungs.You can’t speak and the more you try, the tighter it squeezes on your throat. Your mind is already hazy, thoughts tumbling messily around your head like clothes spinning in a washing machine. You watch in horror as the smoke slips into Katsuki’s nostrils and he falls to his knees, rubbing his eyes and coughing.

You try to call out to him but the squeezing sensation of Eijirou’s large rough hands—hands your body has become used to and reacts accordingly—makes your mind change the danger into something more erotic. You moan pathetically as the invader pulls you closer to his body.

What was that? Is it the work of the toxin in your system? Is that what it does? Make you horny? It doesn’t matter, you need to warn Katsuki. You try again to call out to him.

“K...Katsu.. Katsuki… get out of here! Please!” you wheeze, reaching out to him.

He winces at the sound of the mewls of pleasure that tumble from your lips at the end of your plea. You can see his brows furrowed in determination and desperation. He’s not going to leave you.

He’s going to get himself killed.

“Wow babe, I get captured and you immediately start fucking my best friend? Did you even love me? Or were you waiting for me to be captured so you two could make your move?” The leech speaks again, using Eijirou’s cadence but words he’d never say, especially to you.

“Shut the fuck up! Stop talkin’ like you’re him. You ain’t Ejirou. You’re just wearing his skin. Eijirou’s dead!” Resembling a rabid dog, foaming spit drops from Katsuki’s lips as he gnashes his teeth at the imposter. He’s holding his stomach, groaning in pain, eyes wide and breathing heavy.

With him incapacitated, the alien gains the confidence to loosen its grip on your neck. It holds tight to your wrist and yanks you down with it when it crouches on its knees to stare Katsuki in the eyes.

“He’s not dead. He’s in here with me. And he’s asking the same thing,” it replies, smirking and showing Eiji’s pearly sharp teeth. It’s wrong, it’s evil.

“He says he saw how you looked at her before. He knows you’re in love with her. He knows you wanna fuck her.”

Katsu groans inappropriately when the alien mentions fucking you. Then he shakes his head and blinks in confusion. “Fuck. What’s happening to me?”

You feel like you’re drowning, like you’re trying to keep your head up above the crashing waves, but you call out to Katsuki to make sure he’s safe. The calming, pleasurable voice of Eijirou’s imposter is beneath the waves and is a little stronger. You’re ready to give in.

There’s a biting pain burning inside you now, shooting through your limbs. The heavy vibrating between your thighs accelerates into a searing fire and it only disappears when you feel hot breath on your neck.

“Katsu…” You moan his name but it doesn’t sound like you’re worried for him. You’re beckoning to him, you want him to be the one touching you right now.

His cock is standing at attention in his pants and judging from the way he’s grinding his teeth and huddling over holding his stomach, it’s agony. He tries as best as he can to hide it, but there’s no mistaking the rising tent. He’s scrambling, trying to stay away from you and your siren-like moans. You’re ashamed to think it, but the bulge in his pants looks delicious, leaking and glistening precum that is soaking through the fabric of his pants. You lick your lips and squeeze your thighs together.

“That’s a shame, you know. Once you’ve inhaled that toxin, you’re basically useless to us. It’s not meant for human men. Makes you want to breed. And if you don’t, you die. Perfect way to get you out of my hair, though,” the sadistic creature says nonchalantly.

Die? Katsuki could die from this?

It turns and gives you a reassuring smirk.”Same goes for you babe. You either fuck or die. But don’t you worry, I won’t let that happen to you. Hope you’re ready.” It blows you a kiss and you want to gag. The parasite’s evil little words slither into your ear and break through your sensual confusion.

It shrugs and stands again, pulling you to the dresser and propping you up to sit down. Katsuki sits helplessly in the corner, thrashing and pulling at his clothes like they’re burning him. He watches helplessly as the invader slowly sheds its clothes and then yours. The cool air from the broken window nips at your budding breasts and it’s a relief to the burning quickly swimming it’s way up your entire body.

Katsuki looks mortified as he watches the man appraise you, palming your tits, squeezing your hips and biting its lip as it takes in your glorious figure. You can’t help the moans that escape you as it touches you.

You want to be quiet, to bite your tongue clean off so it doesn’t get the satisfaction, but you aren’t strong enough to go against what the toxin is doing to your mind and body.

“F...fight it…. You...idiot…” he grunts angrily at you.

He’s trying to readjust the tent in his pants but it only makes you groan louder, lick your lips, and beg more for him.

“Katsu… want you… it… hurts… Eiji… please… please fuck me…” you mumble.

You hear a disapproving “tsk” in front of you. “What a slut. A fucking slut. Doesn’t matter who’s dick it is, you just want it huh? You’ll fuck two best friends just for relief? You’ll fuck me even though I’m not your precious Eijirou. Pathetic. Weak. All of you humans are weak. The sooner we find the rest of you who are hiding out, the better.”

Then the foreign creature bends down in front of you. It pushes your legs apart as you sit with your ass propped on the edge of the dresser. It sniffs you again, and you hear a low growl and see it stroke its cock. Right before it buries its face between your legs, it sneers at Katsuki.

“You can watch me fuck her, Katsuki. You should be used to watching from the sidelines.”

Your mind goes blank when its tongue licks languidly through your slick covered lips. All your mind can focus on is the pleasure coursing through your body. Your hands drop to tangle your fingers in its spiky red hair and you push your cunt onto its face, craving friction on your clit.

You sink beneath the calming waves and fall into the comforting arms and tongue of Eijirou. Time no longer exists. Everything stands still and the only thing moving is Eijirou’s tongue flicking against your clit.

Eiji’s always been good at eating you out. Of course he has, he knows your body better than anyone. Why had you been fighting this before? This is the man you love, the man you’ve always loved.

That fact is cemented when he pushes his tongue inside your pussy and you throw your head back and squeeze your eyes shut. This is Eiji, you’re confident now, it has to be. There’s no way it couldn’t be him. He’s the only one that’s ever been able to make you feel this way, right?

“F..Fuck…fuck...ah...I’m gonna c...come…” A rough husky growl suddenly punctures the moment.

That voice sounds familiar and again it slices through the thick fog inside your head. It’s a growl, a pained growl that, despite stating it was in ecstasy, sounded desperate and pitiful. There’s a small tingling in your gut that tells you something’s wrong and you grasp it just long enough to pull yourself back above the hypnotic waves.

You look at the man between your legs. He’s not looking at you, but still tongue fucking you like a man who knows exactly how to pleasure a woman. It’s like he’s studied it for centuries but he's not looking at you. You intake a sharp breath as he nibbles on your clit and for the first time it’s not a sound of pleasure.

This is not Eijirou. Eiji would look at you, he’d look into your eyes the entire time. He’d make sure you knew by just looking at him that he loved you with everything in him. He’d want to see the pleasure on your face, the way your tongue would fall out of your mouth, and the drunken smile that stained your lips will he feasted on you.

You take a second to look around the room and your eyes fall on Katsuki, now naked and sitting slumped against the bedroom wall, watching you. His hair is plastered to his forehead, veins popping out of his head and down his neck. He’s flushed an angry red, and tears are flowing down his face as his hand moves furiously up and down his cock.

The muscles in his arm are flexing and he’s lifting his hips and fucking his fist frantically. He’s muttering something as his eyes stay fixed on you and your heaving chest. When you make eye contact, you finally make out what he’s muttering.

“I’m… I’m coming for you… don’t… fuck oh fuck… don’t worry… won’t...let it...do this…” he struggles between grunts and groans and pants.

Your heart wrenches in your chest as the peaks of an orgasm creep upon you. You twist your fingers into Eijirou’s hair, drop your jaw and close your eyes but the orgasm doesn’t come. Instead, you wriggle and try to push him away. You can’t focus on the pleasure now, not while Katsuki is suffering.

You’re panting, the ruined orgasm hurts, especially as the invader continues to lap at your cunt.You find your voice and it’s weak but persistent.

“Eiji…. Please… Please.. He’ll die…” you beg him. It doesn’t let up on your clit and you moan but try to keep yourself above the waves.

“You wanna fuck him that bad, huh? Won’t come for me, but I bet you’ll come for him, won’t ya?” it breathes against your inner thigh, running its teeth against your soft skin.

It makes you shiver but you keep your attention fixed on Katsuki suffering in the corner. Then you quickly grab Eijirou’s cheeks and make it look into your eyes. You ignore its slick covered face and its wicked smile, holding it tightly and staring deep into its eyes.

He has to still be in there. He has to. If he is, he’ll come back for you. He’ll come back if you ask him to save Katsuki.

“Please Eiji…please save him. Don’t you dare let him die. I know you won’t hurt me. I know you wouldn’t let your best friend die. Please Eiji...Please I love you.”

You pour everything into each word you speak to him. Every word is saturated with the emotion you felt after losing him forever. Tears pour endlessly down your face, you’re speaking through hiccups and holding its face so tightly your fingers leave indentations in its cheeks.

Suddenly its eyes go blank and its body goes limp. it’s no longer holding you tight against the dresser. Its hand drops away from your thighs and it staggers away from you. You blink in confusion but take the quick moment of reprieve to dash over to Katsuki’s slumped body.

You hug him tightly and he groans in pleasure the second your heated skin comes in contact with his. He kisses your shoulder, still pumping his cock and grunting.

“Katsuki, hey, it’s ok. I’ll get you out of here ok?” you say trying to help him stand.

“No… fuck.. Just make it...stop… I need you to make the fucking pain stop…” he growls.

He looks into your eyes and licks his lips. Hungry crimson eyes travel down your naked body. His lustful gaze triggers the toxin in your blood and you almost push him down and sink down onto his cock right there.

Your name is spoken behind you and both you and Katsuki pause in shock.

When it speaks it’s different, it’s warm, it sounds like home and you spin around to see Eijirou, your Eijirou, stumbling toward you with his arms outstretched. You hobble toward him, pulled like a magnet and he catches both you and Katsuki in his big strong arms.

“Eiji, Eiji, you’re back? You’re back. I love you. I love you so much. I’ve always loved you. I always will.” You plaster kisses all over his face, sobbing as you speak. He grabs you tight and props you up against his huge body, laughing and crying with you.

“I always come when you call, don’t I, pretty girl?” he says in his soft raspy voice. It sounds right, the name sounds so right and it only makes you sob and wrap your arms around his neck again.

“Shh I know. I know. I love you too baby. I’m sorry for everything I said,” he says, kissing your cheek.

“That wasn’t you. I know it wasn’t you,” you wheeze nuzzling your face into his chest. He shushes you again, and rubs your hair to calm you down. You almost forget Katsuki is there until you hear him groan in pain again.

“Fuck Ei, I...is it really you?” he asks incredulously through pained gasps.

“Yeah man, it’s me. Thanks for keeping her safe. I knew you would.” Eiji winks, actually winks, at his best friend as if this situation isn’t dire and it surprisingly makes you feel a little better.

“K… Kirishima… you better not...fucking die on us...we’ll come back for you..” Katsuki tries to be serious, he uses his family name to cement his promise.

“No way am I letting this thing take me out,” he responds, pulling Katsuki closer to him and giving him a reassuring nod.

You’re no longer able to hold back the searing pain in your gut. It swells back up again, burning your insides and demanding for you to be fucked one of the two men present.

“Eiji...please… it hurts… and Katsu… he....”

“I know, baby. I’m gonna make it go away ok? I promise.” He looks at Katsuki tucked under his armpit and then over to the large bed, a plan forming in his mind. “I’ll make it go away for both of you.”

He smiles at you like he’s proud of you and you swear you’ll never get enough of the way he looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters in his life. You can tell he’s trying to figure something out as his forehead creases and he looks back and forth between you and Katsuki . Something clicks in his mind and his shoulders slump.

“I know what we gotta do,” he announces, gazing at both of you sadly.

He holds you both against his body, grabs Katsuki’s hand and places it on your naked breast. Katsuki squeezes it and both you and he moan at the same time. Then his eyes grow wide as he snaps out of his pleasurable haze and quickly snatches his hand away glaring at his friend.

“The fuck are you doin Ei?”

“The thing said fuck or die. You know what you gotta do,” he jabs a finger into his chest and Katsuki hisses in pain.

“Fuck that! It could’ve been lying just to play mind games! Maybe...shit...maybe if we come it’ll be fine.”

Eiji sighs, shaking his head in disappointment. “Kats, it's ok. I unde-”

Katsuki grips Eiji’s shirt, moves really close to his face and snarls, “I am not gonna fuck your girl Ei.”

You jump in to try and ease the tension, pushing Katsuki back from Eiji’s face. “Maybe Katsu is right. When the alien thing was… you know… on the dresser… it felt good and the pain was going away but I didn’t finish and it still hurts so...maybe…”

You trail off, partly from the pain and partly because you don’t know what else to say. Eijirou sighs after a minute and nods in agreement.

“Ok let’s do this,” he replies in determination.

Eijirou places you and Katsuki down on the bed softly. You crawl away from them, prop yourself up on the pillows, open your legs, and thrust your fingers into your cunt. You’ll try to help yourself, Eiji can deal with Katsu. It’s the least you can do after both of them have constantly put their lives on the line for you.

He flashes you a worried glance and you shake your head and assure him you can handle it yourself. When you start to moan and hang your head back, he grasps Katsuki’s cock in his hulking fist. The second he makes contact with it, Katsuki moans like an actor in a naughty movie. Eijirou smiles warmly and slips his hand up and down, tightening his grip as the tip of Katsuki’s dribbling head peaks out of his fist.

Katsuki throws his head back, a long winded “Fuckkkk'' escaping him as he shuts his eyes and thrusts up into Eiji’s hand. It’s so erotic and tender. But it’s what you should expect from Eiji. Katsuki reaches out to play with Ejirou’s heavy balls and you hear an intake of sharp breath and a quiet moan.

“Unf, that feels good Kats. You’re doing good, man,” he praises.

You watch them both with lidded eyes, curling your fingers up to press against the spongy center inside you. They’re both so beautiful, two men you care deeply for pleasuring each other and it only makes you wetter and louder as Katsuki’s breathing increases.

“F…fuck Eiji…don’t…don’t stop,” Katsuki whimpers.

It shocks you how vulnerable he sounds right now and you’d be lying if you didn’t admit to liking it a lot more even beyond the toxin’s influence. His eyebrows are furrowed, he’s biting his lip, whining and blushing and craving more of Eiji’s touch. You wish for just a second that you could be the one making him look like that.

Eijirou grunts as Katsuki wraps a hand around his cock and he pushes his hips forward to fuck into his fist. You rub hard circles on your clit, legs tensing up as your walls clench around your own fingers. You can tell Eiji’s been trying to keep his cool, determined to be the one to help his best friend.

The way he grinds his teeth and bites his fist, the way the muscles in his neck flex, how his breath hitches, it’s delicious—you’ll admit it. The pleasure proves to be too strong for him though and he loses himself in the moment. He grabs Katsuki’s head, fisting his fingers into his hair.

“Suck, Katsuki,” he commands in a gruff tone and somehow it still has that loving Eiji likeness you’ve always known.

Katsuki opens his mouth immediately and takes Eiji’s cock down his throat. He moans around it, gagging as Eijirou continues to pleasure him, wet squelching paps echoing throughout the room.

Through hazy eyes you see Katsuki’s head bob up and down, pink lips wrapped tightly around Eijirou’s cock. He’s being so obedient, eager to please the man in front of him. You’re envious of the soft way Eiji holds Katsuki’s chiseled jaw, guiding his face closer and closer to the thick bush of black hair nestled around the base of his cock. Sweet praise drips like honey from Eiji’s lips and it only drives Katsuki to take more of him down his throat.

“So good Kats, you suck dick like a champ,” he says, patting his head.

Where you’re sure Katsuki would roll his eyes at the praise, and spit some comment back about always being a champ, he doesn’t. His reaction is foreign, like everything in this situation. This thought also excites you, the waves of arousal the toxin creates beat against your skull and you catch yourself moaning louder, and growing wetter.

Katsuki moans, almost whimpers like a puppy craving praise for performing a trick when Eiji pats his head. Sucking with more gusto, his face glistens with spit as he succumbs to the toxin’s libido-increasing fog.

You rub harder, pump your fingers faster and deeper inside yourself, clawing up to the cusp of your release. Adding another finger to your squishy cunt envelops the room in wet, lewd noises that drive the sensual atmosphere. Eiji throws his head back, his thick Adam’s apple bouncing in his throat, and he stops pumping Katsuki’s dick to hold in his impending orgasm.

You whine when Eiji pushes Katsuki onto his back on the bed and sits between his legs comfortably. A pitiful groan from Katsuki rings out in the room. The absence of Eiji’s hand on his cock makes him whiny. The massive redhead smirks a cocky grin, licking his lips as he looks at the naked body below him. Pink dusts his friend’s cheeks and he reluctantly pulls away from Eiji’s leaking tip, panting and grinding his teeth. It’s clear he wants more as he reaches out to run his hands down Eijirou’s abs.

“You want me Katsuki?” Eijirou asks in a husky voice.

It takes everything in you not to answer instead. You want his hands on you, you want Katsuki’s feverish kisses down your body, anything to make the white hot pain in your belly and cunt go away.

Katsuki can only groan in response. He looks at you with your fingers shoved in your cunt, breasts heaving up and down as you stare into both of their eyes. His eyes are sullen and desperate when he looks at you. Is he contemplating refusing? His brows furrow in frustration and he grunts a painful affirmation as if he’s made his mind up about something.

“Y…yeah…fuck, just make the pain go away,” he hisses through his teeth.

His voice is agony, defeated, full of suffering but littered with desire. He wants Eiji, but he doesn’t like that he wants him and you can hear it in every pained syllable he grunts out. Lack of control has always been frightening to him, you’ve known this for a while now. It can’t be easy on him to know that he’s begging for his best friend to fuck him especially considering...

Suddenly nothing else matters to you other than holding him. You’re ashamed of your previous selfish thoughts and decide you won’t let the toxin fuck with your head like that again. You crawl over, the pain in his voice forcing you to abandon your own orgasm. Your own plight is a floating memory in the wind, cast aside for something more important.

Pushing the ravenous need to be stuffed full of either of them aside, you focus on his grimace. Your hands are glistening with your own juices and when you reach Katsuki and hold his face in your hands, he inhales sharply. He tries to move away from you, clawing at the blankets so he doesn’t kiss or lick or take you right here. You don’t notice that Eiji has moved to grab the tiny bottle of lube the two of you keep in the nightstand.

He coats two of his thick fingers in lube, but Katsuki’s gaze stays fixed on you. You rub his hair, trying to calm him and let him know touching you is ok. He’s growling low, pupils blown as he gives in and litters kisses up your wrists. You break his stare to look at Eijirou again and right as he pushes his finger into Katsuki’s puckered hole, you give him an affirming nod.

Katsuki groans when he feels Eijirou’s finger plunge inside his tight heat. He hisses and grunts, grabbing his own cock and pumping it feverishly. The veins in his forehead and neck are so prominent he looks as if he’ll explode from the pleasure.

“Oh fuck, Ei...feels so fucking good… don’t stop… please.” he begs.

He pulls your hand to his lips and sucks the slick from your fingers. His eyes roll so far in his skull you can only see white. Drool drips from the side of his mouth and when Eiji adds another finger, he moans and swirls his tongue around your digits. “You...you taste so good… fuck I’m… sorry Ei…”

“Shh it’s ok Katsu,” you say in a soft whisper.

Eijirou focuses on pumping his finger in and out, hooking it up to hit a spot that makes Katsu sing with delicious praise and pathetic mewls. He looks relieved, so incredibly relieved that his friend is no longer in pain and again it is a poignant reminder of how amazing the man you love is.

Katsu’s cock twitches and your mouth waters. Grinding your teeth and trying to push down the ache in your cunt again, you quickly move Katsuki’s hand from his own cock and wrap your fist around it tightly. You’re determined to help him too and you’re relieved when he doesn’t push you away from him. He thrust his hips up into your grip, red mushroomed head peeking out the top of your fist with every lithe movement.

Pulsing heat in your hand, Katsuki’s cock seems to grow harder and harder. You watch his face grow redder, his voice raspier, and yet the more he climbs the mountain of pleasure, the more pain he seems to be in. Eijirou curses under his breath while pumping his own dick and coating it in his own precum.

He speaks through clenched teeth, “Come on Kats, I know you can do it. Come for me. You’re doing so well.”

Soft praise and gentle caresses from Eiji’s rough hands makes Katsuki convulse in pleasure. You didn’t know how susceptible he was to praise. Big strong Katsu always assured you he wasn’t weak and didn’t need anything, capable of protecting you from every danger.

You swallow a lump in your throat then join Eiji in the praise.

“So good Katsu. You’re so strong and brave, my strong man, my hero,” you whisper sweetly. Somehow your sweet voice is enough to send Katsuki over the edge.

You tighten your grip as Katsuki thrusts up into your palm one last time before shooting hot ropes of cum all over his abs and your hand. As he catches his breath, you watch it pool in the creases of his abs, watch how his body twitches in pleasure and how he mumbles something to himself you can’t make out.

You have to talk yourself out of licking the milky warm substance from your fingers like it’s ice cream twice. Instead, you clean your hand on the comforter and pull his head close to your naked chest. His usual spiky blonde bangs are flattened against his forehead and you brush them away and kiss it delicately. He’s trembling now and looks up at Eiji like he’s going to cry.

“Why isn’t it working?” you implore desperately, clutching the suffering man closer to you.

Eijirou looks at you, red eyes running down your body and landing on your puffy lips and glistening cunt. Then he looks at Katsuki, squeezing his eyes shut and burying his head between your tits. The veins coursing through his forehead and neck pulse like a strong heartbeat.

When a deep sigh echoes through the room and you catch the torment on your lover’s face, it feels like the world has stopped. A somber realization bellows in the silence of the room.

“Eiji? W...what’s wrong?”

“Not gonna lie, I hoped that making him cum was the answer. It’s clear what has to happen now,” he states.

He reaches out to you and almost instantly you move toward him before you realize you’re still clutching Katsuki. The minute he touches you, the white hot pain you’d been trying to ignore, ignites all over your body and blood pumps aggressively down to your cunt.

It’s as if someone is pushing your head under the toxin’s waves again and holding you there. Like a spell has been cast over your body, it moves on its own. You gasp at his heated touch and crawl to him eagerly, forgetting Katsuki entirely as he writhes and grips the comforter with deadly force.

You plaster your lips against Eiji’s, tongue pushing into his mouth and he groans like a man tasting food for the first time in years. His hand wraps around the back of your head and you purr against his lips.

You taste yourself on his tongue, tangy and briny and mixed with his sweet flavor; it’s euphoric. It feels so good to be kissing him again, his lips moving against yours just like you remembered; his tongue flicks against your teeth, he nibbles your bottom lip and scratches your neck gently. He feels like home. Like it’s where you’ve always belonged.

“Eiji, I missed you...want… want you please…” you whine against his lips.

You don't even sound like you anymore, is this purely the toxin’s work? Concentration on anything other than fucking proves more than difficult in this one moment. He pulls your reluctant body back to stare into your eyes and you’re clawing at the air, desperate to hold him again. He shakes you slightly, trying to bring your focus back to him and it’s the most serious you’ve ever seen him look.

“I know, pretty girl, I promised I’d help you, didn’t I?” he asks in a sweet voice and you nod.

“You gotta do what I say ok? Everything I say, and I’ll make it go away,” he says, pushing your hair away from your face tenderly. His thumb runs over your cheek, wiping away the tears you just realized were flowing.

“Yes… yes everything. I’ll listen,” you say, kissing the edges of his lip and jaw, drunk on his love and agreeing to anything that will make him fill you with his thick cock.

He sighs again, drops a hand to wrap around your waist, and looks at Katsuki who’s watching the two of you with a hint of envy in his grim frown.

“Katsuki, come here, she needs you.”

Both you and Katsuki stare bewildered at Eijirou as he holds a hand out to him. The blonde stares angrily at him. Then puffs up his chest and shakes his head violently.

“No fucking way.”

“Don’t you wanna feel her?” he replies simply.

His voice is surprisingly calm, like he’s not discussing the idea of Katsuki fucking the woman he loves. It’s strange, unnatural but then again, so is this entire situation. Of course Eiji would put his own feelings aside to stop both you and his best friend from suffering.

Katsuki doesn’t say anything. His eyes flash over to you and the way your tits move as your chest heaves up and down, your hard nipples, and finally the tuft of hair that covers what he can only guess is the best pussy he'll ever feel in his life. He looks away quickly, swallowing the truth and burying it deep inside of him.

“Don’t ask me that, Ei,” he grunts. His fists turn white as he grips his thighs, trying not to look at you. He hangs his head in shame.

“I’ll take that as a yes.”

It comes out as a sarcastic chuckle and both you and Katsuki know it’s a cover for the hurt he feels.

“N...no Eiji…” you speak through your teeth, the pain of the toxin burning your insides. The potency clouds your vision again, or perhaps it’s the curtain of tears in your eyes.

“Ei…you don’t gotta do this.”

“Man just shut up and do it. She could die and I can’t do anything to save her! The alien thing wanted to mate with her and I think it’s still in me so I can’t…I can’t do it… it has to be you,” His voice breaks and you can see him struggling to finish the sentence. It rips your heart in two.

“You owe me, man.”

You hear Eijirou sniffle, his whole body is trembling as he holds you close to his chest. Yet his face is turned away from you, like he’s ashamed. He doesn’t have to say anything more about what Katsuki owes him. Katsuki’s eyes grow wide and he’s no longer focused on the pain in his stomach. He looks so anguished and confused, and conflicted.

There’s silence for too long, or what feels like too long in your clouded lustful haze. Eijirou’s next sentence breaks the silence and Katsuki reluctance.

“I’ll never forgive you if she dies, Katsuki. So man up and do it!” He explodes, thin red brows pointed angrily down as he snarls like a dangerous wild animal. He’s never looked that angry but you suppose, he’s never had a reason to.

Until now.

A torturous wail rips through the tense atmosphere and you’re surprised when you realize it came from you. There isn’t a word in existence to describe everything you’re feeling right now. Your body trembles, your crying is intermingled with desperation as you squeeze your thighs together.

Your vision goes in and out, unaware of who’s touching you anymore but the hands grip your hips and gently persuade you to lie on your back. Muffled voices sound like underwater conversation in your ears. You’re under the waves again, the toxin blocking out all your senses and enhancing the only thing needed to breed: your libido.

You puff your cheeks and grind your teeth, shutting your eyes tightly and trying to focus on anything but the heat between your legs. How you desperately wish for one of them to cool you down, fill your aching cunt with their seed. There’s suddenly hands on your face, dragging down the sensitive skin of your neck and you shiver and shriek.

“Please… please… it hurts… I need…” you don’t know who you’re talking to but at this point it doesn’t matter. All you crave is relief.

“Hey Sweets…it’s ok…” a voice breathes softly against your collarbone.

You feel soft lips kiss your burning skin and there’s instant relief. You crane your head to the side, exposing more of your neck and groaning. Your eyes are still closed but the voice brings instant comfort, a warmth that feels like soup warming your bones after a cold day. It’s gravelly, the edges of it jagged but sweet and vulnerable.

It hits you then. You know this voice. You’d know it anywhere.

“Katsu,” you breathe and he groans an affirmation when you pull him closer and wrap your legs around his waist.

Your fingers curl into his hair and you kiss his shoulder, nibble his neck, whine like a pitiful little baby searching for its mother.

“I’m here…unf… you’re already so wet for me baby…” he speaks against your collarbone and you can feel his arm slipping between your pressed bodies to swipe against your clit.

When you jerk and lift your hips to feel more of his alleviating stroke, he moves with you, grinding his rock hard dick through your folds. Like a synchronized dance between lovers, your bodies respond to each other naturally.

“Katsu… please make…make it stop… please it hurts,” you beg and plead and cry so much you feel like your throat will go raw.

A cold droplet—a tear you think—on your cheek makes your eyes shoot open and suddenly you’re staring into ruby irises. He's panting, his face is red and drenched in sweat. His tongue hangs out of his mouth like he’s hungry and ready to taste you.

He’s beautiful, he’s always been beautiful. You reach a hand up to brush against his cheek and he kisses your wrist, flicking his tongue to lick it, then bites down, leaving a mark.

“I‘ve wanted you for so long… I’m… oh shit…” he pauses, squeezes his eyes shut at you grinding against his cock, then he mutters a scolding curse to himself before continuing.

“I’m gonna save you and I’m gonna fuck you good, ok? Not just cuz of this fucking toxin. But because…because I…” he pauses again then finishes, ”I'm gonna take care of you,” he says through clenched teeth.

Your heart is beating fast, every thought of your feelings for him pulsing through your body. He lines the tip of his fat cock up with your entrance, a trembling breath escaping him at the anticipation of finally feeling you. He pushes your hair off of your forehead, balancing himself up on his elbows and holding your wide eyed stare.

He taps his cock on your puffy clit three times, garnering your complete attention. “Look at me. Don’t you look away, ya hear me? I told you I’d save you, yeah? I keep my promises. So look at me when I fuck you, ok?” he growls.

He almost shoots a load of cum all over your stomach when your eyes sparkle and you gaze up at him like he’s the only man you’ve ever loved.

“Yes, Katsu.”

You’re sure you see heaven when Katsuki finally pushes into you. You feel the delicious stretch pulling you open as he plunges slowly inside of you. The sound that rumbles from deep within him awakens some primal instinct in you. When he brushes against your cervix, fully cemented inside of your weeping cunt, you dig your nails into his back and hold him there, clenching to make sure he stays.

“Oh shit baby, you… you feel better than anything I’ve ever imagined… fuck… gonna move now…” he says adjusting himself to pull his hips back and snap back into you.

“Yes, yes fuck me. Katsu please,” you chant.

As he strikes up a pace, your mind clouds with only one purpose. Breed. His head is buried in the crook of your neck as he fucks into you, driving into your velvety walls deeper and deeper. He grunts between each thrust and growls like an animal with visceral instincts as he pummels your sloppy cunt.

��Mmm, so good, so good…thank..you…” you whine.

You’re wailing in pleasure, squeezing your eyes shut as the heat in your belly subsides and intensifies the glorious ecstasy of Katsuki’s thick cock stretching your pussy with every drive of his hips. You’re biting into his shoulder and he’s pushing your legs back against your body, angling himself to feel more of you and drown in your essence.

If you’re witnessing heaven during this moment, it must look like every single moment you’ve spent with Katsuki since the invasion. You can see every moment so clearly, feel every one of his past caresses, smell his musky scent when he pushed you behind him to shield you from an enemy.

“Mine… all mine right now… fuck…want to pump you full of my babies,” he’s panting into the crook of your neck, warm breath driving a delicious tingle up your spine. Right now, the thought of being full and round with his child is a dream come true.

You remember the way his large arms wrapped around you when he thought he’d lost you once during a scavenge for food. And lastly, you can feel the rough pads of his fingertips dragging over your skin as you slept peacefully in his arms at the end of another day. You remember his warm breath washing over your face as you drifted off to sleep and the thing he whispered under his breath when he thought you were lost in your dreams.

I love you.

Your eyes pop open as the convoluted knot of eroticism and emotions starts to unravel quickly inside of you. Suddenly your vision is clear as you hold Katsuki's burning body against yours.

This man loves you. He always has, and he is not only fucking you right now, he’s pouring all that love into you. It’s a beautiful act, but you can’t shake the fact that something is wrong. You care for him too, that much is absolutely clear but there’s something, one tiny strand that holds you back from plunging face first into the love that this man has bestowed upon you.

And then your budding orgasm is snatched from you in an instant and you know what needs to happen.

“Unf… ‘M gonna fill you up Sweets, oh fuck!”

Katsuki’s hips stutter and he presses down on your legs as he pumps you full of so much cum you feel like your belly is swelling. You dig your nails into his ass, holding him inside you as he trembles, painting your insides with thick oozing cum. He rasps a string of curses followed by your name before he collapses down on top of you.

White milky seed oozes slowly out the sides of your ruined cunt and froths around the base of Katsuki’s cock as he slowly continues to drag against your walls, spreading the cum around inside you and locking it in.

He kisses you then, out of the haze of the toxin. His face is smooth, the torturous pained expression absent and he thankfully looks as if he’s back to normal.

You return his kiss, giving in to your feelings for him and sighing at the way his tongue pushes past your lips and rubs against your teeth. He’s soft but frantic, as if he knows this could be the last time he ever gets to kiss you like this.

When he parts from your lips, he continues littering kisses down the side of your face, your cheeks, your jawline and finally back around to your lips again. It isn’t until he stops rutting against your cum covered walls that the pain from the toxin starts up again.

“You okay, Sweets?” he whispers, trying to catch his breath.

He’s mortified when he sees you shake your head and writhe in pain underneath him.

“Fuck! Ei, it didn’t work!” he shouts over his shoulder.

Eijirou’s hands are on you in a second, holding your face as you squeeze your eyes shut in pain. Katsuki is still embedded inside you and his cock twitches as you clench around him, pulling for more pleasure to ease the pain. You try to communicate your new discovery, you can’t come with just one of them, not while you know the other is hurting. It’s painfully clear.

Eijirou is trying to get you to look at him, whispering quick comforting words against your ear while Katsuki pulls out of you and you scream in pain from the absence. You try to still your rapid breathing, focus on what you need to tell them both. You swallow the scream bubbling up inside you and grit through your teeth.

“Need… need you...both… both of you… please… please,” you cry, tears staining your face.

Eijirou looks tortured; his brows furrow and you see tears streaming down his face.

“I can’t baby…I can’t… it'll… it’ll mate with you… I can’t.” His whole body is shaking as he crouches over you, holding your shaking body. The way he looks right now hurts more than the toxin but again you try to shove it aside to get your point across.

You put your fingers to your lips, moan a little and wet them before tugging his arm and looking him in the eye.

“Eiji please I want you. Want you here,“ you say, tapping your lips.

His eyes grow wide when he understands and when you look toward Katsuki and beckon to him as well, the idea seems to click in both of their minds.

“Fuck… you’re gonna make me hard again sweets,” Katsuki grunts through his teeth and when you whimper out a small “more Katsu”, both he and Eiji quickly move into position.

Katsuki lies on his back as Eijirou lifts you and places you down to straddle Katsuki’s thighs. You feel his cock, now hard and standing at attention against your ass. Eiji positions himself in front of you, cock already dripping pre against your lips. You lick them and moan and he holds your face in his hulking hands.

At the same time Katsuki lifts you and splits you on his cock, you take Eijirou’s thick member down your throat. Everyone moans all at once and this one action digs deep into your pleasure receptors. You’re all moving as one now, moaning and fucking together. Katsuki lifts his hips up into your hot heat and you moan loud and dirty around Eiji’s cock.

The taste of him excites you, the smell of him makes you wetter, the way you have to drop your jaw more to fit your mouth around his sizable dick is like a dream. And the way he’s looking at you, it’s exactly what the alien invader was missing when it pretended to be him. His undying love for you, is mirrored in your eyes as he looks down at his cock bulging in your throat.

“That’s my pretty girl, your mouth feels so fucking good, baby. I’m gonna cum down your throat,” Eiji pants amidst the wet gagging and the sloppy lewd slaps of Katsuki pounding into your cunt.

You’re jaded by the pleasure of the two men you love fucking you senseless. All logic flies out of the window. Fuck the aliens, fuck this entire situation, fuck your feelings or Katsuki’s feelings or Eiji’s feelings. Nothing else matters except what you want. And what you want is to be filled to the brim with Eijirou’s cum.

You can hardly control yourself when you pull away from his dick, a string of spit keeping you connected to him and look up into his eyes. You wrap both of your hands around his cock and he rocks his hips, slotting it between them.

Looking up at him, face covered in spit and cum, eyes shining brightly, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen you look so beautiful. But when you utter the next sentence he’s caught off guard, eyes wide as he stares down at you.

“Please Eiji… I want your cum. I want it. I want all of it. Don’t care about the aliens. I just want you.”

You can see his resolve crashing, crumbling like the walls of Jericho. All the logical arguments of being bred for the invaders tumbles out of his mind with every drag of his cock into your tight little fists. His eyes darken and he moves quickly, crawling down to where Katsuki is pushing up into your cunt. His balls slap against your ass like he’s punishing you, loud and sloppy as your slick makes them glisten.

Eiji grabs the little bottle of lube and pushes your body down so your forehead is touching Katsuki’s. Katsuki doesn’t pause his ministrations but he stretches to get a glimpse at what Eiji is doing. His eyes grow wide and then darken with lust when he puts it together. He grabs the back of your head and stares into your eyes as he slows his pace for just a moment.

“Be a good girl ok? Oi, look at me. Me and Ei, we’re gonna make you feel good, yeah? We’re gonna take care of you,” he coos in a husky voice.

You nod feverishly then smash your lips against his.

Cool slippery liquid slips down the crease of your ass and Eijirou’s thick finger is playing with your puckered hole. You hear him spit behind you and a blob of liquid slides through your cheeks. It’s filthy, so fucking filthy yet you poke your ass out and mewl for more.

He swirls the lube and Katsuki’s cum up and down your ass, messy squelching as he teases the entrance. Your eyes shoot open and you jerk up and away from his finger. Katsuki stills your body, digging his finger into your hips and smashing your face harder into his lips.

“It’s ok baby, relax. We’ll take care of you,” he hums against your lips.

You clear your mind, relaxing and putting your trust into the capable hands of the two men you would give your life for.

Eiji’s finger is long and thick, and when he pushes into your tight hole, you wince. He presses up against Katsuki’s cock pumping in and out of you and it makes your body go numb. He slowly moves in and out of your hole, adding another finger when your moans soften.

Both you and Katsuki tremble and shake with high pitched moans when Eijirou starts at the seam of Katsuki’s heavy balls and licks where he’s inserted inside your pussy, sucking the base of it and tasting his cum and your slick. He continues moving the tip of his tongue up until he’s licking your asshole, teasing it again.

You’re in bliss. Katsuki rocks against your sweet spot, grunting and pulling you down on his cock roughly. His fingers dig into your thick hips, and he bites your neck as he keeps your body pressed against his. With Eiji’s fingers in your ass and Katsuki pounding into your cunt, you feel weightless. Nothing could feel better than this moment.

Suddenly, Eiji pulls his finger from your ass, muttering something about being ready now. A sound you’ve never heard come from Eijirou rips throughout the room. A feral growl that borders on animalistic as he rubs the tip of his cock against your ass. You’re breathing heavy, still lost in the pleasure and placing sloppy kisses over Katsuki’s jaw.

When you feel the tip of Eiij’s cock at your ass, you pause and look back over your shoulder at him in apprehension. He’s thick and long. His dick is flushed, tip blushing as red as his hair. It’s throbbing in his hand like it has a mind of its own. The thick vein on the underside, the one you used to love feeling drag against the ridges of your pussy, looks threatening now that you think about it being stuffed inside your asshole.

He runs a large hand up your spine and grabs the back of your neck, pulls you up and curls over to kiss you passionately on the lips. Katsuki stops moving his hips and licks his lips as he watches the two of you with a wily grin.

Time seems to stand still when he pulls away from your lips and stares into your clouded eyes. “I love you,” he says softly and you nod in agreement. “I’ll be gentle baby. Do you trust me?”

You swoon at his sweet voice, he’s always able to hypnotize you with his charm. It’s one thing you love about him. You nod slowly. You’d agree to anything he said right now.

Your heart beats quickly and you clench again around Katsuki’s cock. He reaches up to massage your tits and whispers something about relaxing. Then Eiji pushes you forward and eases into you, slowly hissing as your ass stretches and sucks him in.

It hurts, it’s too much, way too much, but you don’t dare tell him to stop. You cry out, shut your eyes tight and bite into Katsuki’s shoulder as he wraps his strong arms around you.

He’s cooing soft words in your ear, licking and biting your earlobe, telling you how well you’re doing but his voice sounds so far away. All you can focus on is Eiji’s massive throbbing cock in your ass and Katsuki's twitching dick in your pussy.

Eiji’s groaning like a mad man, words stringing together so much it sounds like he’s speaking another language entirely but he praises the way you take him in. When he’s finally sheathed himself inside you, all three of you let out an exasperated whine.

You’ve never felt this full and you swear his dick is in your fucking stomach. The thought of being stuffed with both of their cum ignites the painful primal attraction to be bred again.

You scream as the heat inside you flares and burns your insides, “Move Eiji! Fuck!”

He’s always been in the business of giving you what you want and if you want his cum he’ll give it to you. He takes a deep breath, gives Katsuki a reaffirming look and they both start to pump inside of you slowly.

You can’t see, you can’t speak, all that matters right now is the sensation of both of their cocks ruining your insides.

You hear Katsuki grunt, “Shit, Ei, I can feel you inside her. Oh fuck, fuck you’re huge.”

Eijirou only responds by plunging himself deeper inside of you. He leans over you, his chest flush with your back and his cheek resting on your head.

“Gonna fill you up, babe. Gonna fill you up so you never forget me. Never,” Eiji moans and your entire body is shaking. The pain subsides into pleasure as your ass gapes around Eiji’s cock.

He drives his hips so roughly into your ass both you and Katsuki’s bodies thrust from the momentum. Slick, cum, spit, and lube create a concoction of lust and filth that string and web between your bodies as both men lose themselves in the hypnotic pleasure.

“I love you! I love you!” you scream and neither man knows which one you’re talking to but it doesn’t matter because you’re experiencing each other as one.

Your tongue hangs out the side of your mouth, drool dripping thick and wet down your chin, your eyes roll to the back of your head and you’re mewling again like a helpless baby.

Again you climb up the mountainous peak of pleasure but this time, you plunge over the edge full force. Your cunt spasms, you cry out so loud your voice goes hoarse and you see stars dancing in your vision. You squirt all over Katsuki’s dick and it’s the first time you’ve ever done this in your life. There’s a sharp pain on your shoulder and something warm dribbles down your arm.

Both men shoot wave after wave of hot sticky cum into both of your holes, and you feel like an inflated balloon as you collapse on top of Katsuki, spent and oozing white down your ruined cunt and thighs. Eiji detaches his sharp teeth from the shoulder he bit into as he painted your insides white. He kisses sensually down your spine as Katsuki holds you close to him, eyes shut and catching his breath.

The pain is finally gone, nothing but a distant memory and when Eiji picks you up to cradle your bruised body against his chest, you tear up again at the sound of his strong heartbeat. All of your limbs are tingling, your legs and pussy ache, you can barely keep your eyes open but you do to hold his beautiful face in your memory forever.

Katsuki walks over to the two of you, holding what looks like the red curtains hanging on the sliding doors. He tosses it to Eiji, quickly wipes his body off, and redresses in the corner across the room.

It’s silent as Eiji wraps you up in the curtain, gently wiping the blood from the bite mark on your shoulder and keeping you close to him. He’s so warm, huge hulking chest and arms wrapped protectively around you and you wish, no pray, that you can stay like this forever. Of course, that will never be the case.

“Hey…” Katsuki’s voice rings out in the silence. “I’m sorry for that. I… I know I’m a fucking scumbag for falling for a woman who was already taken. ’Specially one who was taken by my best friend.”

He struggles over every syllable, he hangs his head again, and doesn't dare look you or Eiji in the eye. Your stomach flips inside of you as your instincts kick in and you reach a hand out to comfort him.

“N..no…” you say weakly.

Eiji chuckles and it’s a beautiful sound, warm and loving and thrust you back to the time before everything went to shit.

“Aww come on man, don’t be such a downer!” he says laughing. Disbelief slowly makes its way onto Katsuki’s face and suddenly he’s back to his normal Katsuki pout and scowl.

Eijirou looks down to you in his arms now, love swimming in his eyes as he strokes your cheek softly. “It’s understandable. She makes it hard not to fall in love with her.”

Katsuki shakes his head and growls. “I woulda never done anything though Ei. You gotta know that. I ain’t in the business of fucking my best friend’s girl ok?”

“I get it man. You don’t gotta keep beating yourself up over this.”

This time he reaches out to Katsuki, and you stretch your neck to turn to look at him across the room with big pleading eyes. You see his ruby irises flicker to Eiji’s hand and then settle on your eyes before he sighs and takes two big strides over to you both. He bends down on one knee and grasps your hand, pulling it to rub against his cheek as he shuts his eyes and basks in the feeling of your soft skin against his.

“If you really wanna make it up to me you’ll make sure she stays alive and keep her safe,” Eijirou jokes, but Katsuki doesn’t let a second pass before he mutters back.

“I promise.”

Everything feels complete with your hand on his cheek and Eijirou's heartbeat booming in your ears. You sigh and close your eyes, taking in the small reprieve from danger. But just as quickly as the moment starts it’s brought to a swift end when all of you hear thumping downstairs.

“Shit! More of those things are coming!” Katsuki hisses.

Your heart speeds up and you feel Eiji’s fingers dig into your arms as his grip tightens protectively around you. He stares at the door of the bedroom with a frown, listening closely to the footsteps. Then he looks at you reluctantly, and you know what he’s thinking.

“No. No Eiji, come with us. Please,” you beg, holding him tightly. He kisses your forehead, closing his eyes as he lips press hard against your sweat drenched skin.

“I don’t know if the thing is truly gone or not. I’d be putting you more at risk,” he says to you tenderly.

He’s crying with you, tear drops falling onto your cheeks and lashes. One falls onto your lips and you lick the salty droplet before he bends down and kisses you deeply.

It’s the same kiss he gave you before he pushed you into Katsuki’s arms and sacrificed himself to make sure the two of you stayed safe. The night you thought lost him forever.

His teeth bump messily against yours and you lift up to run your fingers through his hair. You can feel your heart breaking again, shattering into tiny little pieces as his lips move against yours. You don’t want to let him go, afraid that if you do, this truly will be the last time you ever see him.

He pulls away from your lips then quickly carries you and places you into Katsuki’s arms. Katsuki cradles you against his chest, holds you tight and protectively, yet he doesn’t stop you from reaching out to grab Eijirou's arm.

“You gotta be brave for me, pretty girl. Let Kats take care of you. Will ya do that for me?” he says kissing your knuckles.

Through your tears you see your world crumbling, yet it’s still bright when he smiles reassuringly at you. Even if you don't believe everything will be ok, when Eiji smiles, the darkest nights shine brighter than the sun.

You nod, wiping away your tears as he looks at Katsuki and gives a quick nod toward the window. “Find any other survivors outside of the city, get her out of here, and promise me you’ll keep her safe.”

Katsuki bolsters you against his body with one arm, amazingly strong as he balances all your weight on his bicep, and reaches his hand out to Eiji with a determined grin.

“I will and I fucking promise, we’ll come back for you Ei. I ain’t leaving you here to die.”

He grasps his forearm tightly, fiery devotion blazing in his eyes. Then he readjusts his hold on you and quickly shuffles over to the window. The footsteps get closer as they bound up the stairs to the apartment.

Katsuki hurries and steps onto the balcony. Your eyes never leave Eiji’s. He stands at the window watching the two of you escape.

Before you’re out of hearing range you yell to him, ”I'll love you forever!”

You’re sure you’ll see him again, Katsuki will make sure of it. He promised him, the two of you will come back and save him. You will or you’ll die trying.

You take a deep breath of the chilly morning air, wipe the remaining tears from your face, and take one last look at the window slowly becoming smaller as you and Katsuki escape.

We’ll come back for you Eiji. I promise, you think to yourself. The last thing you see is his big toothy smile before he shuts the sliding door and turns to face the enemy.

--

Epilogue

Eijirou rolls his neck, grabbing his discarded pants from the floor and slipping them up his hulking frame. He stretches his limbs, turning away from the window to face the door of the bedroom intensely. He takes a deep breath, in and out as if readying himself for something big coming.

Salty iron sits on his tongue and he smacks his lips when he remembers how hard he bit into your shoulder. A ghostly shiver of pleasure runs down his spine when he remembers how tight you were around his cock. A shame he couldn’t experience your weeping cunt, but all’s fair in love and war.

Or...whatever that stupid human saying is.

He rolls his eyes when his partner strolls into the room, Denki, he believes this one is called.

“Took you all long enough, what was the hold up? I told you when you heard me speak in our language, wait a few minutes then make your way up!” he scolds, crossing his arms over his chest.

The blonde man, Denki—yes he’s sure now that’s what this one is called—sighs and puts his hand behind his head sheepishly.

“Yeah well, a lot of us got caught up and couldn’t really hear you over all the screaming and grunting. Is that really what it sounds like when they mate?” he asks, a hint of disgust in his expression.

Eijirou laughs and slaps a huge hand over his back. “You’ll understand when it’s your turn to find a woman and mate with her.”

Denki looks confused, he blinks at Eijirou, raising an eyebrow. “So you did mate with her? Then what was that big show of pretending the host was in charge again? And why are you letting them go?”

“I didn’t mate yet, but don’t worry. I’ll have my chance again very soon. And so will all of you. But first, they are gonna lead us to all the survivors. And once they do, the assimilation will finally be complete. Our species will be saved from extinction.”

--

Thanks for reading!

[piosplayhouse]

Is there anything particularly triggering in SVSSS? I've been putting it off for awhile and finally have time to read it.

I will admit, there's kind of a lot of content that could be triggering in sv, and it's something that it gets a fair amount of criticism for; however, I'd argue that mdzs and tgcf probably have near equal amounts of tws attached to them, so if you already read those I think you'd have minimal things to look out for. However, it's definitely a personal thing for you to decide, so I'll list all of the ones that I can think of with minimal spoilers!!

If I forgot anything that my followers would like to add, feel free to add to notes or send an ask! : -) And of course, just to reiterate, if any of these warnings feel like too much to you, or if you have specific things you want to ask about/clarification, feel free to send another ask or reply and I'll do my best!

TW List:

Student x Teacher Relationship - not represented as grooming in the slightest onscreen, and characters both have equal power dynamics when they get together, but ik the concept can be triggering anyway! However there is also

Mentions/Accusations of Grooming - is not actually committed within the story and confirmed false for the character they're laid against

Age Gap - very loosely between the main couple, directly shown once between extremely minor characters during one scene and criticized the whole time

Graphic Torture Scenes (Dismemberment)

Child Abuse

Child Death

Internalized Homophobia

Transphobia - themes in the first arc can be read as transphobic, but it's short and up to interpretation. A transphobic slur is used once in the official Seven Seas translation of volume 4 in the second extra, on page 70 (print edition).

Mentions of Sexualization of Underage Girls - sv heavily critiques this

Dubcon/Noncon* - the one explicit sexual scene regarding this only occurs in one chapter, is nonromanticized, and is fully skippable. There are some other non/dubious consensual scenes with regards to things like kissing and blood drinking.

Mentions/Accusations of Necrophilia - is not actually committed in the story, to the point of being deliberately disproved throughout the extra chapters. However, it is a common discussion topic amongst side characters during some key scenes.

Suicidal Actions/Self Harm

Attempted Forced Abortion/Miscarriage - mentioned once offhandedly in reference to an (in-universe) book character, touched on in the form of a flashback/backstory of a character late into the narrative (book 4).

Ummm there's probably some more I don't remember off the top of my head, but again if you have anything specific you're looking for, feel free to ask and I'll check!! Again keep yourself safe, and if any of this seems like too much to you, don't feel pressured to read it at all! ^^ Hope you have a good day and end up enjoying your free time no matter how you spend it!

Deaging - present only in the "Return to Childhood" extra in book 4

Racism - explicitly in canon against demons, including the main character; implicitly in the meta against North/Central Asians, of which demons are arguably coded as. Demon culture is shown to be noticeably more violent than human culture, which rings similar to harmful Chinese stereotypes of Central Asian peoples.

[haadeswrites]

Elysium

god this fic took forever i’m so sorry!! but hey, first fic on the new blog! <33 also y’all should really thank @iwaasfairy who listened to me complain about this fic for a solid month, she’s the reason it got finished

Cult leader Oikawa Tooru x female reader

tw: indoctrination, extremely dubious consent, blood, yandere themes, religious themes, minor character death, implied abuse & drug use, mild smut, nsfw

The island itself is breathtaking

Pristine beaches with gleaming white sand, vast swathes of lush, green rainforest and waterfalls that cascade into shimmering pools of crystal clear water. Untouched, undisturbed; a paradise. At least, that’s how Ryuji had described it. 

Paradise, but only in the sense that a gingerbread cottage in the middle of the woods is paradise to a lost and hungry child. 

He hadn’t been wrong. Bare feet sink into soft, white sand as you climb from the boat - the warmth just toeing the line between pleasant and burning. Gentle waves ebb and flow behind you, and there’s a light breeze that kisses your skin, the taste of seasalt carrying in the wind. Home, it seems to sing.

A laugh sounds somewhere in the distance, yet the only other figure on the beach is a man walking steadily towards you. He smiles when he sees you’ve noticed him; friendly, non-threatening. It’s a far cry from the swarming welcoming committee you’d been dreading, and you wonder if that’s somehow intentional as well. 

As the boat pushes back out to sea he comes to a stop before you, “I’m Makki,” he says, pushing the fringe of his hair back and giving you a not-so-subtle once over. Whatever he sees must meet approval, because his grin only widens, “Welcome to the Commune.”

Ryuji wasn’t wrong; the island is a beautiful, deadly thing.

—

You’d never heard of the Commune before the phone call. 

And maybe that shouldn’t be so surprising. You’ll be the first to admit you’re hardly an expert, but from what you do know, groups like the Commune – cults – don’t spring up out of thin air and start broadcasting their mistreatment and systematic abuse. 

They’re not the kind of people that have sweet old ladies clutching their pearls and mothers shepherding their children away – at least, not in the beginning. Not entirely. They’re not out to recruit extremists to further their cause, they choose to prey on the vulnerable, the lost and the disillusioned. Those easily manipulated. You suspect that’s why when you google the Commune, all you find is a website for what essentially looks like a long term luxury wellness retreat.

‘The Commune is about healing and harmony, about returning to nature, supporting one another to forge a brighter, more holistic future together… a self-sufficient community living apart from technology and other evils of modern society.’ 

You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you scroll through. There’s a whisper of philosophical teachings woven throughout, a page dedicated to their founder, Oikawa Tooru – smiling handsomely in every single picture, because what would a burgeoning cult be without a charismatic leader – but there’s not enough.

So here you are, on an island hundreds of miles away from home living amongst strangers; because Ryuji wouldn’t have sounded so terrified if this was just some alternate, free-loving bunch of hippies.

And even with all that he’d told you, everything you thought you’d be prepared for, the Commune is like nothing you could’ve imagined. 

Makki introduces you to Asuka, a woman only a few years older than yourself, dark haired and stunningly beautiful, and winks as he tells her to take you under her wing. She smiles brightly, eyes twinkling, and pulls you into a heartfelt hug – as if you’ve known each other your whole lives.

“We’re so glad you’re here!” she beams.

You’d like to hate her. 

It feels like you're supposed to, sometimes; when she gets that dreamy look in her eyes and starts talking about Oikawa and the Commune and how lucky everyone here on the island is. Yet there’s something about her – the genuine warmth she emanates maybe, or the kindness in her eyes – that makes it difficult for you not to like her.

“You should come to the gathering tomorrow,” she hums idly one afternoon, maybe a week or so after your arrival. The two of you are sitting on the edge of the pier, legs dangling down into the water, tangled fishing nets to be repaired strewn between you.

“I always go,” you reply.

She laughs, fixing you with a knowing look, “And sit right at the very back, all but running off the moment we finish?” 

And your traitorous heart skips a beat. 

“It’s okay to take things slowly,” she says. “We understand that being a part of the Commune is a big change from the life you knew, and that not everybody is able to see what we see and embrace those changes.” 

Asuka sets down the knot she’s working through and reaches for your hand, a gentle smile on her face, “But you shouldn’t be afraid. You’re meant to be here, I can feel it. You just need to stop fighting against it; surrender yourself to us, to the island, and everything’ll make sense, I promise.”

It’s dangerous territory. One wrong word could set off alarm bells, yet you can’t help pressing just a little.

“Do you ever miss it, then? Life outside the Commune?” 

Your family. Friends. The life you left behind before you came here to be brainwashed like all of the others.

“Why would I?” she answers without missing a beat, and it’s hard to ignore the bitter flicker of disappointment you feel at her answer. “The island provides for us, we don’t have to spend our days selling off tiny pieces of ourselves just to make ends meet. It’s paradise here, and we have Oikawa to thank for that. Why would I ever want to go back?”

Silence falls between you as you struggle to think of something to say to salvage the situation. Yet Asuka isn’t even looking at you, instead staring out at the water with a strangely pensive expression. 

“Did you know I was married once?” The words seemingly out of the blue, you can only shake your head. For a moment, she doesn’t reply, watching as the waves rise and crash offshore. And then;

“I was young, eighteen or so, fresh out of high school and he was a small town cop.” Her eyes flicker to yours, and your heart clenches at the sadness and pain echoing there. “I thought he was a good man, once upon a time.”

A chord strikes deep, your chest tightening involuntarily at her words. It’s not the same, of course it’s not the same, and yet… 

No. You stop the errant thought in its tracks. Groups like the Commune prey on the vulnerable, you know this. People like Ryuji, like Asuka, like–

Her fingers squeeze around yours, pulling you back to the present. “Come to the gathering tomorrow. Listen to Oikawa, it’ll help.”

—

She doesn’t give you a choice in the matter – dragging you by the hand to sit right at the front of the gathered crowd that very night.

Oikawa’s handsomer up close; tall and dark haired with pretty eyes and long, sweeping lashes that frame delicate cheekbones, it’s not hard for you to see how a man like him has amassed such an impassioned following. 

Once he starts actually speaking, however, you realise that his good looks and charming smile are just the tip of the iceberg. Oikawa’s utterly captivating as he preaches about the cycle of life and death and the paradise that awaits his faithful. Passionate and engaging, he speaks like he truly believes every word of the lies he’s spreading. 

And Asuka, her friends, the others gathered, they eat up every word like it’s gospel truth, resounding cheers and thunderous applause deafening around you. In the midst of the rapturous din, Oikawa’s eyes flit to yours.

Slowly, he smiles – a dazzling grin that makes your stomach flip – and everything; Asuka, the noise, the others swarming around you, it all fades away.

For one electrifying heartbeat, you’re frozen in place. Just you and Oikawa, trapped in the pull of each other’s gaze.

—

You can’t forget the reason you came.

But it’s… difficult, in a way you struggle to understand. You only have one purpose for being here, one goal; find Ryuji and bring him home. 

And yet, some days it’s like there’s a fog in your mind, and you have to focus to remember why you’re here at all. You catch yourself laughing with Asuka and her friends, the days passing by in a blur of endless, easy distractions. 

It barely feels like work when you’re sitting under the shade of the trees, eating the fruits you’ve picked by hand – ripe and sweet, unlike anything you’ve ever tasted – diving off waterfalls into the crystalline water and meandering down the shore collecting seashells. Even when you are working, mending clothes or cooking with the others, it fills you with a sense of contentment you can’t quite explain. 

Like you’re a part of something bigger. Like you’re doing something that matters.

Ryuji becomes a distant thought. A whisper in the back of your head, a niggling in your gut, easily brushed aside and ignored until there’s a moment of quiet. In the dead of night, the balmy summer night’s breeze kissing your bare skin, you lie awake, lost in memories of the last time you’d seen him. 

Fists angrily pounding at your door, the yelling that gave way to sobs and the hoarse, desperate pleas that followed. Ryuji’s face; pupils blown wide and eyes rimmed in red, darting restlessly around as he held you too tight and begged–

Rolling over in bed, you gaze out your window at the star flecked sky, the shadows of the forest that lie at your doorstep, and wonder what it is that scares you more; that you’ve lost track of the days you’ve been here, and saving Ryuji is starting to feel like an afterthought, or that you could so easily forget all of it, find a place here in the Commune and be happy.

‘The island, it–it fucks with your head.’

Ryuji’d told you that, and you’d brushed it off as paranoia. You need to find him. Find him and get the hell outta dodge.

You can deal with the fallout later.

—

Kiyoshi. 

He’d mentioned the name a few times amidst his rambling – a friend of his on the island. You’re annoyed with yourself for not thinking of it sooner, however much like Ryuji himself, trying to focus and remember the name is like wading through thick mud.

Once you do, though, finding him amongst the hundred and fifty or so inhabitants is the easy part. 

There’s no strict division between genders within the Commune, however Kyoshi, despite his somewhat lean stature, is among the builders of the island and his path doesn’t often cross with yours. 

From Asuka you find out that he’s been a part of the Commune for years now, before even she joined, and that he mostly sticks to himself, though you’ve seen him chatting quietly to a few of the other men, a perpetually angry looking blonde in particular.

It’s the last part that piques her interest, “Why’re you so curious, anyway?” she asks, her face lighting up as a sudden thought occurs. “Do you want me to introduce you two? To be honest, I didn’t think he’d be your type, if you’re interested, though…”

Cheeks aflame, you’re quick to shut her down. “No, no, nothing like that. I’ve just… seen him around and we’ve never really spoken, I guess.”

A lame excuse, though mercifully she lets the subject drop without too much prodding.

Therein, of course, lies the problem. Walking up to Kyoshi and casually trying to drop Ryuji into the conversation without raising red flags is risky, but what other options do you have? You’ve already spent too much time on this island.

Although, maybe Asuka has the right idea. 

While you hadn’t been lying when you said you weren’t interested in Kyoshi in that way, nobody else knew that. Who would really look twice at the shy newbie striking up a conversation with the quiet, easygoing man? He wasn’t unattractive per se, and from the brief interactions you’d seen of him, he seemed kind enough.

You have enough patience (barely) to wait for dusk the following night. There’s a celebration, something about the full moon and a blessing on the island and the Commune– you hadn’t really been paying attention when Oikawa had spoken about it. Still, it’s too good an opportunity to pass up. With the fire pits crackling, and the dancing and music and the sweet honey wine flowing freely, nobody will be paying too much attention to what you’ll be doing. Hopefully, the alcohol will also serve to lower Kiyoshi’s guard, and perhaps if you’re really, really lucky, loosen his tongue as well. 

Of course, you’re not banking on him telling you exactly where Ryu is or what happened to him– and that’s assuming he actually knows – but at this point you’ll take anything over the nothing you currently have. A tiny slip up, that’s all you’re asking for. 

As the sun descends beyond the horizon, you play your role well, laughing and chatting amongst friends, sipping carefully at the cup of wine in your hand as you wait for an opening. And perhaps it’s your nerves working against you, but you find that it’s not just Kiyoshi your attention is drawn to. 

Up on the shore, away from the rabble, Oikawa lounges back with a cup of the same honeyed wine you’re pretending to drink. For the most part he seems deep in conversation with Iwaizumi, his right hand, but every once in a while he glances up, letting his gaze roam over the crowd of his followers.

Every inch a king and his general.

And it would seem benevolent, if not for the strange smile he wears – the one that widens when his eyes catch yours.

Swallowing tightly, you force yourself not to dwell on it, to ignore the odd sensation curling in your gut and the way your skin prickles under his attention. Now is not the time to lose focus.

Pushing all thoughts of Oikawa aside, you subtly scan the beach once more, only to find that Kiyoshi’s moved, sitting now on a piece of old driftwood near the bonfire. Alone for the first time tonight. 

Your legs are moving before the thought even fully registers. 

“Do you mind if I sit?” you ask, gesturing to the empty space on the log beside him. 

Kiyoshi smiles, the laugh lines at corners of his eyes crinkling pleasantly, and shakes his head, “Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

Taking another sip of your wine, you will your shoulders to relax, your racing pulse to slow. This has to seem natural, and so you force yourself to hold your tongue, let your head loll back and breathe deep, soaking it all in. You can hear the others in the distance, the music and the dancing, the happy laughter and shouts that beckon – you want to go join them. Even your blood seems to hum, a call of something other pulsing through your veins.

But you pay it no mind. There are more important things to worry about tonight. 

Indeed, steel blue eyes have been appraising you curiously for a while now. “This is your first Lunar blessing, isn’t it?” Kiyoshi asks after a moment.

You nod, humming in agreement. Less than a month; you’ve been here less than a month. Is that a good thing?

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

A harmless enough question, and again you nod your head. “Yeah, it’s…” you pause, searching for words that won’t sound hollow. “It’s paradise. I feel like I need to pinch myself just to make sure it’s real.”

He smiles gently. “But?” he probes.

Grimly, you wonder whether Kiyoshi’s usually this perceptive, or if you’re just a really terrible actor. In a way, you suppose it really doesn’t make a difference; you’ve come too far to turn back now – at least not without raising suspicion. 

So you lie with a truth, and pray that it works.

“I had a friend I was supposed to meet here,” you confess quietly, gazing not at him but the crackling flames of the bonfire, the burning embers carried off into the night. “He was the one who said I should come, but now I’m here and he’s not and every time I catch myself enjoying this–”

“You feel guilty,” he surmises, cutting you off. “Because he’s not here to enjoy it with you.”

Wordlessly, you nod – and maybe it isn’t so much of an act when your eyes begin to glisten, your smile wavering. 

Kiyoshi’s silent for a moment, and you take another sip of the honey wine to hide your nerves. “You shouldn’t, you know,” he says eventually. “Feel guilty, I mean. You belong here, with the Commune. You’re happy here. Paradise… isn’t for everybody.”

He doesn’t say it to be cruel, more like he’s simply stating a fact, and somehow that makes it all the more unnerving. And it’s nothing you haven’t listened to Oikawa preach about time and time again. The Commune is for the devoted, the faithful – the lucky few – and you’ve never thought too hard about what he’d meant by that.

The Commune’s small, maybe a hundred and fifty or so people on the island. There’d been no initiation, no test of faith or trial period you’d had to pass when you arrived – at least, none that you’d been aware of. You simply stepped off the boat and they’d welcomed you with open arms. 

An uneasy sensation settles into your gut, goosebumps prickling at your skin despite the heat of the midsummer night. 

That… doesn’t make sense. It can’t. Absolute control’s too important in groups like this, they couldn’t just let anyone–

Kiyoshi speaks again, his calm voice pulling you from your thoughts. “What was his name?” 

You blink at him slowly – stupidly. “Sorry?”

“Your friend,” he clarifies. “What was his name?”

“Oh, um- Ryuji.”

Kiyoshi’s brow furrows in thought for a moment, but he merely shakes his head, “Doesn’t ring a bell, but like I said, not everyone who arrives stays with us for long.”

He looks you right in the eye as he says it.

You don’t understand the cold, foreboding that seeps through your veins, because he’s lying. He has to be. 

Ryuji was here. They were friends, Ryu’d told you that–

Why did you think this stupid plan would work anyway? That he’d tell you anything, much less the truth when this whole fucked up island is full of liars and those too indoctrinated to know the difference?

“You alright?” he asks when abruptly, you shoot to your feet beside him.

And it takes every ounce of willpower you have left to force an easy smile to your lips, raising your cup just a fraction, “Yeah, just gonna go get a refill. Thanks for the talk, Kiyoshi.”

Whether he notices that your wine’s barely touched or not, you don’t care – not as you turn on your heel without another word and head back up the beach. 

Your head is pounding, your body trembling – you don’t hear the call of your name until a hand reaches out and grasps at your wrist, spinning you around.

Asuka greets you with a wide grin, Makki and a tall, broad shouldered man you think is called Mattsun standing either side of her – the former’s arm slung casually over her shoulder. “There you are! I’ve been looking for you,” she says. “Come on, we’re gonna go swimming, it’s so pretty out there!”

You glance out towards the ocean. Moonlight bathes the inky blue water, light shimmering off the rippling tide; some of the others are already out there, splashing amongst the waves. 

“Clothing optional, of course,” Makki laughs, and Asuka tugs on your wrist once more. 

“C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

But you shake your head, slowly pulling your hand from her grip, “I’m not feeling great, I think I’m gonna head back.”

Asuka frowns, concern marring her pretty features. “Are you okay? Do you need us to call Mizo–”

“No,” you say, cutting her off. Healer Mizoguchi is the last person you need to see right now. “I just– I just need to go lie down for a bit. You guys go have fun – enjoy the blessing, I’ll be fine.”

Makki and Asuka share a fleeting look, but it’s Mattsun who interjects before either one of them can speak, “I’ll walk you back, then.”

Your stomach churns. It doesn’t sound like a suggestion.

And the smart thing to do would be to accept his help; the walk from the beach to your villa isn’t far, and while you’re not as familiar with Mattsun as you are with Makki or Asuka, it’s not like he’s going to hurt you or anything, but–

“Really– you don’t need to, it’s fine,” you smile weakly, shuffling back as he reaches to offer you his arm. “Go swim, I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

Mattsun shrugs easily enough, falling back into line with the other two – yet there’s something in the way he grins and holds your gaze for a beat longer. A glimmer of amusement, as if there’s some joke you're not a part of. “I’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.”

The heat that floods your cheeks clashes uncomfortably with the cloying heaviness in your stomach, but somehow you manage to stutter out one last goodbye before turning back to scamper off in the direction of your room.

–But not to lie down.

There’s not a cloud in the sky, and the full moon’s bright. No need for a torch, not unless you decide to venture into the heart of the forest.

You’ve been a fool. Kiyoshi, Asuka, Makki, Mattsun; you can’t trust any of them to help you, even unwittingly. Ryuji’s here on the island – somewhere – and every second that slips away, every second that you allow yourself to forget puts him in further danger.

And so you cling to your discomfort, ground yourself in it. The prickling sensation at the back of your neck, the tightness in your chest as you slip past your villa, keeping low and quiet – they’re a reminder that there is something insidious here on the island, that you have to get out.

You and Ryuji.

He’s here. Away from the others, kept under lock and key as punishment, or maybe being forced to undergo whatever kind of glorified brainwashing they’ve got going on, but here. You need to be smart about this, because while you don’t intend to stop until you find him, tonight will be your best shot – while everyone’s distracted down on the beach. 

For the first time in a long time, it feels like you have a clear head. 

Creeping through the underbrush, you steer clear of the well trod pathways that lead towards habitation. You’ve been there, and to the docks, and the river. 

If they’re still keeping him here (and they are, you refuse to entertain the possibility that it could be otherwise) then it’s not somewhere out in the open. A bird cries out in the distance shattering the calm of the night, and you flinch – but it only serves as another reminder that your time tonight is limited; you cannot afford to delay. You wrack your brain, trying to dredge up memories of the last few weeks, surely you must have seen something–

“Lost?”

The single word, spoken in a deep, gruff voice has your blood running cold.

Slowly, you turn. 

Iwa stands behind you in the thicket, his face utterly impassive. Briefly, you contemplate whether it’s worth trying to bluff your way out of this, but Iwa’s eyes narrow, flashing in the dim light and you think better of it.

A sigh escapes you, your shoulders deflating. “Where is he– Ryuji?” you ask; a whisper rather than a demand.

Iwa’s expression gives nothing away. Did he know, or have you handed him the smoking gun of a crime that’d fallen through the cracks? Does it even matter anymore? You’re just–

You’re tired. 

Exhausted. In the space of a few moments all of that shining determination and resolve; it fled, leaving a gaping hole in its wake. This has to end, you can’t keep fighting against them forever. You can’t keep drowning in this guilt, feeling torn every second that you spend here on this stupid island. You just want to find Ryuji and go home.

… Right?

A tense beat passes as Iwa appraises you, and then; “Come with me.”

The hand he places on your shoulder doesn’t give you much choice. His grip isn’t what you’d describe as gentle, yet he’s careful enough to make sure you don’t trip or stumble as he marches you north. 

In the thick of the forest away from the beach, it’s eerily quiet. Every twig that snaps underfoot, every ragged breath you draw; it feels too loud. Out of place amongst the stillness of the midsummer night. 

And isn’t it ironic, that for the first time since you set foot in this paradise, you feel like you’re trespassing?

A bead of sweat trickles down from your temple and your mind unwittingly drifts back to Mattsun and Makki. Are they still swimming with Asuka? Probably, you reason. It’s hard to pinpoint exactly how long it’s been since you left them on the beach, but surely no more than an hour.

And strangely, like water drawn from the depths of a well, an image comes to mind; the four of you standing in the waves, you perched atop Mattsun’s shoulders, screaming and giggling in delight as Asuka tries to knock you down again, two sets of eyes watching from the shore… 

You should have stayed on the beach.

“Can I ask you something?” 

“You can ask,” he replies drily – humouring you, you suppose.

Your lips quirk upwards for the briefest of moments. “What happens on the Lunar blessing? Asuka, the others– no one told me what it was.” 

Iwaizumi doesn’t answer you immediately, but you feel his fingers reflexively tighten on your shoulder. Likely it wasn’t the question he was expecting; surely there were others that you could have asked – but you don’t really want the answers to those.

If you’re being led like a lamb to proverbial slaughter, what good would it do you to know it? 

And yet as the seconds pass and no answer seems forthcoming from your captor, you resign yourself to the fact that your curiosity will remain unsated. You don’t even know what prompted you to ask in the first place; knowing Oikawa it’s probably some grand, meaningless spectacle. Pretty, hollow words spoken only to–

A heavy sigh draws you from your thoughts, and you falter in your step, almost tripping over your own feet in the process. Iwa’s quick to right you, urging you forward with a less than gentle nudge. “Walk straight,” he grunts, yet it lacks any true heat. Anticipation flutters through your veins, and he mutters a soft curse behind you. “Fine. It… it’s an exchange.” 

An exchange? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Your eyebrows draw together, mouth opening to press the matter, but Iwa beats you to the punch.

“You’ll find out for yourself soon enough, now shut up.”

You have no response to that, so you do.

—

The two of you walk in silence for what feels like hours. Eventually, the terrain becomes steeper, the worn path you’re treading twisting and winding, and you realise you must be close to the mountains at the heart of the island. 

As your breath comes in heavy pants, your legs beginning to ache, you can’t help but be lost in the beauty of it all.

The flora’s different here, unlike any you’ve seen before. Flowers bursting from the bark of towering trees, blooms of vibrant hues; reds and purples and soft, baby pinks. Even the vines at your feet curl amongst pretty white buds that gleam invitingly under the moonlight. Your jaw falls open as you gaze around in wonderment. 

You forget why you’re walking, where it is that you’re heading. Iwa’s grip relaxes as a quiet gasp escapes you, and he doesn’t stop you when you stray from the path to take a closer look. You can’t resist reaching out to touch the silken petals, leaning in to smell their perfume. Soft and light and sweet, your eyes flutter shut, a smile creeping across your visage. 

It reminds you of home. Not your actual home – the rundown, tiny shoebox apartment you gave up before you came here – but something deeper.

Home, like the long summer days spent playing in your parents’ backyard. Home, like afternoons curled up by the window, watching the rain come down in sheets outside. 

Home, like the comfort of arms wrapped around you; two hearts beating in sync.

“C’mon,” Iwa interrupts after a minute or so, his voice a touch less gruff. “We’re almost there.”

Dazed, you find yourself nodding, allowing him to guide you back to the path. This time, he doesn’t grab you by the shoulder, seemingly content enough to walk by your side. 

True to his word, it’s only another few minutes before you see it; a wooden villa, four times the size of your own and far, far grander, set amongst a clearing of trees on the mountainside. Confused, your eyes flicker from the villa to Iwa and back again. Gossamer curtains billow lightly in the breeze, a warm, inviting glow spilling from the open windows. Surely this cannot be where he meant to lead you… and yet he merely stands at your side, arms folded across his broad chest, watching you expectantly. 

“You gonna make me carry you up there?” he asks, not unkindly.

Swallowing tightly, you shake your head. 

Another glance, and you catch a shadow lingering by the window. Your heart skips a beat, apprehension curling in your gut as you begin to walk, every step feels less steady than the last. You’re almost glad when Iwa takes you by the arm; if only so that you have something to focus on other than the growing tightness in your chest. The villa, with its pretty flowers and airy, elegant grandeur is far from the isolated cell you’d been afraid of, yet the uncertainty of what you’re walking into eats at you all the same.

Is this where they’ve been keeping Ryu, or has he brought you here for another reason?

Nothing, however, can prepare you for what you find inside. Warm light emanates from lanterns that bathe the room, and your eyes widen as you stare around you.

Strange, gold carvings inlaid with mother of pearl decorate the thick, woodens support beams, a pot of incense burns on a table overflowing with fresh fruit. There’s a jug of the same honeyed wine you’d drank earlier in the night and two cups set on an ornate stand nearby – just within arms reach of one of the chaise lounges.

Iwa affords you little time to gape, drawing you further in. Silken tapestries hang from the walls – you’re pulled along too quickly to truly take note, but the brief glimpses you get hint at a story; a divine being cast from his home, lost and wandering.

It tugs at something buried within you, and uncomfortable, you tear your eyes away.

The two of you reach a closed door at the end of the hall, and Iwa pulls you to a stop, knocking once.

“Come,” a familiar voice calls.

You stiffen, though perhaps you should have foreseen this outcome. Who else would Iwa bring you to but to him? Distantly, you register his grip relaxing, the sound of the door sweeping open and his voice at your ear.

“Go on.”

And it’s funny, you think, how two halves of yourself can be so at odds with each other. Because while your stomach twists itself into knots, goosebumps prickling at your skin, your legs stumble forward of their own accord.

Two steps forward, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s a bedroom, that much you can deduce from the decor, but that’s not what captures your attention. Nor is it Oikawa, leaning against the bureau with a genial smile – at least not at first. 

No. In place of a back wall, there’s open space, not so much as a panel of glass obstructing the view before you. And what a view it is; from this height you can see the sprawling forest below, the coastline dotted with bonfires and the moonlit ocean shimmering beyond. Where the floorboards end, there are steps, you realise as you unwittingly inch closer, leading to a cascading spring – likely fed from the waterfall you can hear rushing nearby.

How easy it would be to brush aside your worries, you think, to shed your clothes, slip into the cool, calm water and lose yourself entirely. Even amongst all you’ve seen and experienced on the island so far, this is incomparable. 

“Stunning, isn’t it?” Oikawa murmurs, coming up behind you.

His voice startles you, yet when you turn, you find him not gazing out at the scenery but rather at you, that same strange, knowing smile curling at his lips.

“Some days, I admit, it’s hard to tear myself away,” he continues, unbothered by your stunned silence. “But even I can’t neglect my duties for too long.”

You swallow, tongue darting out to wet your lips. Confusion twists through you at the conversational tone, surely he hasn’t brought you here just to chat about the impressive views, yet there’s no hint of disapproval on his face, no indication that he’s anything less than pleased with you.

It’s unnerving to say the least, but you’ll play along with his game if that’s what Oikawa wants.

“Beautiful,” you say, though the words feel woefully inadequate even as you speak them.

He hums in agreement, something akin to pride flickers in his eyes at your assessment, “A labour of love, I suppose. But… everything you see here, everything I’ve built, it comes with a price. You understand that, don’t you?”

“I-I’m sorry?” you stutter.

“Paradise,” he elaborates, his smile widening. “There’s no give without take. Those people down there,” he nods down at the beach, the tiny, ant-like figures still milling about, “the lost, the beaten, the abused – I gave them what they so desperately sought; a sanctuary. A life without struggle, without suffering.” He pauses for a moment, reaching forward to take your hand. You almost flinch, almost skitter across the room to put as much distance between you as you can, but you don’t–

His palm is warm as it envelops yours, a pleasant heat that seems to spread through your veins, easing your tense muscles. There’s nothing to fear from him, you’re safe with Oikawa.

“Aren’t you happy here?”

Yes.

“What about the price?” you ask instead, though it takes more concentration than it should to force the words out. 

Oikawa’s thumb sweeps along the back of your hand. “I never said it was your price to pay,” he soothes. 

There’s something wrong with that sentence, but another sharp knock at the door draws your attention before you can think too hard about it. You turn out of instinct, barely aware of the way his hand tightens fractionally around your own.  

A single finger at your jaw coaxes your attention back to him. “If you built a paradise, wouldn’t you give whatever necessary to ensure it flourished?”

Oikawa stares at you expectantly, deep brown eyes searching your face as he waits for an answer. Agreement would be the logical choice – the one he seems to want from you – but even as your lips part, the only sound that escapes is a breathless, confused noise. 

When you were a kid, maybe six or seven, your parents took you to the beach one day and you waded too far out into the water. The waves were bigger than you expected; all it took was one mistimed jump and you were dragged under.

It wasn’t for long, probably only seconds, and ultimately you were fine – but you remember those few seconds so vividly. The feeling of helplessly tumbling through the water, fighting to break the surface but not knowing which way was up. Your lungs crying out for oxygen, the disorientation and dizziness, the panic.

It feels like that now – like the floor’s dropped out from beneath you and you’re just hurtling through empty air, desperately trying to slow yourself down with nothing to grab onto.

None of this makes any sense. Your emotions are shot to pieces, too many parts of yourself being pulled in different directions and you’re not sure which ones you can trust anymore. How can you be? Oikawa’s still holding your hand, smiling at you, and you just want everything to stop for a second so you can right yourself and breathe–

The door opens.

Iwaizumi appears in your field of vision, dragging a bound, hooded figure behind him. And because this is all some big, cosmic joke, you get your wish. Both of them, actually. 

Time slows. 

Even with a burlap sack pulled over his head, you recognise the man Iwa shoves to the floor and sneers at. 

Hundreds of miles, weeks of uselessly traipsing around this fucking island, and finally– 

Finally, you’ve found Ryu.

There should be relief. Fear, considering his current state, yes, but Ryuji’s here and he’s alive and as the hood is ripped off his head Oikawa squeezes your hand and the only thing you feel is… anger.

Not a heated flash that surges through your blood. It’s slow and seething, insipid. You look at him, locked in place as empty, pleading eyes meet yours and all you can think is that all of this – everything – is his fault.

“Asuka told you why she came to me, didn’t she?” Oikawa asks.

Your brow furrows, why–why is he asking you that now, how did he even–

He slips closer behind you, letting your hand go in favour of your shoulder, his spare dragging lightly along the bare skin of your arm. “She was lost, in so much pain. The physical wounds, they heal after a while,” his voice is right in your ear, a low murmur that sends a shiver rippling down your spine.

It isn’t an unpleasant feeling.

“But the scars inside, well… sometimes those fester.”

Gagged and bound, kneeling at your feet, Ryu doesn’t even try to make a sound. 

He’s thinner than you remember. Face gaunt and bruised; there’s a half healed, mottled yellow one painted across the left side of his jaw, one eye purple and swollen. You glance at Iwa, standing stoically behind him, muscular arms folded across his chest. His work, you wonder, or others as well? You notice the tear tracks running down his face, catching the light of the lanterns, but it’s as if you’re seeing it all through a thick pane of glass. None of it reaches you, there’s nothing but that simmering, ugly feeling in your gut.

Oikawa hums, “I told you that Paradise wasn’t for everyone. It’s a haven, yes, but there are those who simply… don’t belong.”

His body’s so warm, pressed up against yours. Fingertips graze along your side, and this time you don’t bother biting back that tiny, breathless moan. Iwa briefly smirks at it, but there’s no embarrassment. Why should there be? Your eyes flit back to Ryu, bowed on the wooden floor.

Another memory resurfaces; A sharp crack and a ringing in your ears, Ryuji, eyes bloodshot and glazed, falling to his knees, clutching frantically at the leg of your pants as endless apologies spill from his lips. 

It wasn’t him. It was never him. 

“He hurt you,” Oikawa purrs. “He kept hurting you, I saw it.”

The words wash over you like waves breaking on the shore, but you find yourself nodding anyway. It was the truth, wasn’t it? A thousand tiny hurts, piled up on one another until you finally broke.

And you’d still come when he’d called.

Listened to him when he’d begged you not to hang up the phone.

“Iwa.” 

The brunet moves towards a grand chest of drawers pushed up against the western wall. An ornate dagger sits atop, strange and beautiful; the blade isn’t steel or any metal you’ve seen before, but some kind of black stone, the handle intricately carved ivory. You hadn’t even noticed it before, Oikawa’s room filled to the brim with odd trinkets and treasures, but now that you have, it’s hard to tear your eyes away.

Iwa takes it and carries it over towards the two of you, holding it with the utmost care. 

“Obsidian,” Oikawa informs you as he accepts the blade from his friend, bringing it in front of you both to show it off. “Pretty, isn’t it?” And while you can’t see his face, you can hear the smile in his tone.

He isn’t wrong though. 

Ever so carefully you reach out, the soft pads of your fingertips running along the obsidian surface, surprisingly cool to the touch. The razor sharp edges – wavy and asymmetrical, leading to a tapered point – you’re careful to avoid, almost positive you’d draw blood with the slightest touch. 

“Take it,” he urges, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear. 

Obediently, you turn your hand over, your fingers wrapping around the hilt when he presses it against your palm. And as long fingers curl around yours, you idly wonder how old the dagger is – there’s not so much as a scratch on it, yet there’s something about the weapon in your hand that feels ancient. It thrums under your combined touch.

Oikawa jerks his chin at Iwa, and with a short nod and one last, lingering glance cast your way, the latter exits once again. 

Leaving you and Oikawa alone with Ryuji.

“It’s almost time,” he remarks – though time for what, you’re not entirely sure. His lips press against your hair, his arm dropping from your shoulder to your waist, drawing you flush against him. “I know why you came to me, the lies that led you here.”

Both of you turn your attention back to Ryuji at that, the bound man now shaking with the force of his muffled sobs, snot dripping from his nose. That bitter resentment rears its ugly head again, soothed only by Oikawa’s pacifying hum, his thumb now rubbing slow circles at your side. “Shh, I’m not angry – none of that matters now. You’ve found a home here, no? You want to stay on the island with me.”

You swallow, nodding your head rapidly. The thought of having to leave now, of being forced out after everything you’ve seen and felt and experienced here, you– you can’t fathom it. You don’t want to. 

Ryuji’d wrought so much damage, but even before he’d swept through your life… had you ever been happy? Were you ever truly accepted – or loved, for that matter?

You can’t go back to that life. You won’t; he’ll have to drag you kicking and screaming from the shore. The Commune is your home, this is where you belong. Here, with Oikawa.

“Good girl,” he croons, another kiss pressed to the crown of your head. You beam at the praise and Ryuji crumples a little further. “Death begets life, you understand now, don’t you?”

You glance at the obsidian dagger in your hand and then at Ryu, beaten and bruised, bowed in forced supplication before you, and nod.

His fingers tighten around yours, “Then do it.”

Leaning forward, you reach for Ryu, fingers lightly trailing down his ruined cheek, curling at his chin to coax his head upwards. He squeezes his eyes shut, pain and regret etched over every inch of his face, but he doesn’t fight you. 

Baring his throat to your dagger, Ryuji’s pleas take the shape of your name.

Muffled, thanks to the gag, but unmistakable. And for one single moment, you falter. 

This… this is wrong; for all his faults, and god knows there were plenty, Ryu didn’t des–

A wave of calm washes over you, allaying your fears, your doubts. Your breath leaves you in a heavy gust, taking with it the tension in your shoulders, and Oikawa’s voice, smooth and honeyed, reaches your ears once more, “Nothing comes without a price, doesn’t he deserve to be the one to pay it?”

With your hand still tucked inside of his, your arm moves with a will of its own; slashing with inhuman grace.

The dagger cuts deep, Ryuji’s eyes snapping open in shock as a spray of warm blood hits you both. He chokes – a horrid, wet, gurgling sound – wide, pleading eyes frantically shifting between you and Oikawa. Every beat of his failing heart sends fresh blood spurting from the gaping wound. It drenches his front, splatters across your dress, your face, crimson pooling at the wooden floorboards at his knees. His mouth falls open and shut, trying and failing to form coherent sounds and you just stand there and watch, the dagger hanging limply at your side.

It doesn’t take long; seconds at the most. 

Ryuji’s slumps to the floor, his body finally growing still as the light fades from his eyes. There’s a beat of absolute silence, and then–

Oikawa shudders behind you, a strangled, drawn out moan leaving his lips. You try to turn, but his arms lock around you, every muscle tensing, his back arching. The dagger in your hand grows hot, burning the soft skin of your palm, but with his fingers still tightly entwined with yours you can only whimper and endure it.

With a hoarse, guttural roar, a pulse of pure energy surges through the room like a shockwave. Every cell in your body lights up, electrified, buzzing; a dizzying euphoria unlike any you’ve felt before coursing through your blood. 

Across the island, voices cry out in delight, a symphony of life. The trees tremble and shake, invigorated and renewed, fresh buds bursting from the forest floor, blooming under the light of the full moon.

The harvests flourish, even the river swells in response to the call.

Death begets life, just as he promised.

And with every inch of your body alight and singing with pleasure, you can barely think much less protest (and why would you want to?) as Oikawa roughly yanks you around, hungry lips crashing against your own as his fingers pull and tear at your bloodstained dress. He wastes no time with foreplay, and you suspect only begrudgingly takes a moment to hoist you up against him and carry you to his bed.

There’s nothing gentle about the way he hauls your hips to his, sheathing his cock inside of your warm, tight cunt with one savage thrust, but you don’t care.

Not as you cling to him, fingernails raking along his shoulders as he presses your thighs further apart so he can fuck you deeper. It’s hard and rough and brutal, yet you moan for him all the same, his name a prayer swallowed up by feverish, claiming kisses.

Tonight, bathed in blood and the soft glow of moonlight, you offer your god everything.

—

“Look, look!” 

A small hand tugs at your skirt, and you glance down to find a little girl with pretty, dark curls holding up a crown of woven flowers.

“Do you like it?” she asks. 

Carefully, you take it from her, bringing it closer to examine. She watches you intently as you study it, lifting it this way and that to appraise her work, humming thoughtfully for good measure. “I think it’s beautiful work,” you tell her after a long enough pause, and you can’t help but smile at the way she lights up, preening under your praise. “Why don’t you go show your mama? I’m sure she’ll be very impressed.”

The girl nods rapidly, thanking you before skipping off in the direction of her parents. The sun’s hanging low in the sky, the fires already being readied for the night ahead. You’re not unaware of the watchful gaze that carefully monitors your every move, and the moves of anyone who ventures too close by. Soon enough, you’ll return home to the heart of the island – anticipation fluttering in your belly at the thought of what awaits you – but for now, you let your feet sink further into the sand, closing your eyes as you bask in the lingering warmth of the setting sun.

At least until the sound of your name being called draws you back to the present. Yet it’s not Iwaizumi approaching, but rather Makki, two strangers trailing along behind him. 

“Thought I’d find you here,” he grins, throwing a casual arm over your shoulders. “This is Kaneo,” he gestures to the man, “and his wife Manaka. They arrived this morning, I’ve been showing ‘em round.”

You turn to the couple, smiling sweetly as you extend a hand, “Welcome to the Commune.”