
Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/10732755.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Major_Character_Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Kagerou_Project, Mekakucity_Actors
  Relationship:
      Kisaragi_Shintaro/Kokonose_Haruka_|_Konoha, Kisaragi_Shintaro/Snake_of
      Clearing_Eyes
  Character:
      Kisaragi_Shintaro, Kokonose_Haruka_|_Konoha, Kuroha_specifically, Snake
      of_Clearing_Eyes
  Additional Tags:
      oh_gosh, this_is_definitely_the_worst_thing_I've_ever_written, Extremely
      Dubious_Consent, Sexual_Content, Sexual_Metaphors, lots_and_lots_of
      metaphors, Blood_and_Gore, Eroguro, OOCness, Mostly_on_Kuro's_part, But
      Shintarou_too_honetsly, Alternate_Universe_-_Canon_Divergence, A_Form_of
      Cannibalism, Really_Nasty_Cannibalism, Not_A_Happy_Ending
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-04-26 Words: 2002
****** No Forgiveness, Even For the You Who is So Filthy ******
by Manya_Kami
Summary
     "There's been a mistake, Shintarou."
     He speaks again, and damn, that voice is like butter, coating his ear
     drums in a substance thick enough that he can no longer hear his own
     thoughts (and while he will certainly not realize this now, he was
     also deafened to the alarms sounding when he finally remembers whom
     Kokonose Haruka was).
     "...So I'm gonna fix it."
Notes
     I was playing around with cannibalistic eroguro ideas because I'm a
     really nasty person, and came up with this.
     Frankly, I've never seen or read anything with something like this in
     it, so this'll at the very least be interesting.
See the end of the work for more notes
                             Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy.
                          Why is everything spinning?
                             Why am I... spinning?
                               I'm so... dizzy.
                                        
                                       .
                                       .
                                        
It was an average enough night, as far as Shintarou's standards went. His
sister had gone into town some time before; his mother was out providing a
source of income for this shabby house.
Fuck the fact that he was old enough to get a job and rake in some additional
cash along with Momo; fuck the fact that he's been the one dragging them down
with hefty internet and cable bills, Shintarou didn't give a hot pile of shit
for that.
They understand, sometimes. It's hard, really, really hard, and time's heavy
hands grow more tedious as Shintarou plows his way through day after day after
day. It's easier now, a bit, that he's isolated himself from the ticking sun
and moon outside, hauling himself up in a four plaster wall cage that seems to
dull the movement of things. Even Ene, rambunctious, eager Ene, has seemed to
quite her normally loud existence over the past few months.
In the calm after the storm, Shintarou's been left fragile and explosive, like
a bomb waiting to go off. It's not an entirely incorrect analogy - memories of
her run through his mind, crashing through the shore of his long-distance
memory like stormy ocean water. He's the lightning and the thunder in the
clouds. When he shrieks, the whole house will hear it.
But tonight there's no one to hear him, and no one to try and infect his quiet
peace with bubbliness or care. Just a quiet night, his luminescent screen and
he, old partners reunited after a long separation.
The rappingand tip-tip-tapon his keys soothe his damaged ears, brining a calm,
serene feeling to the deepest recesses of his bones. Caffeine thrums through
the inner workings of his veins, inside is pulsing arteries, a feeling he
certainly wouldn't be ashamed to say he had missed. He takes another swig -
cola chasing away the thick flem remaining on his tongue and washing down his
throat like an oil spill.
It's the last drop, Shintarou realizes begrudgingly, and that had been the last
can in his room. He's left with a heady thirst and an arsenal of empty Coca
Cola cans on his desk, as well as a decision on whether he's up for going into
the kitchen - the dark, empty kitchen- to get a fresh collection.
His sleep-circle eyes flicker back to the glaring computer screen. Ene is
curled up in a pseudo ball, snoring softly with her head resting on her arms.
Sighing to himself, Shintarou heaves himself off of his spinny chair - he loves
that chair, goddammit - and quietly tiptoes his way to his room door, opening
it slowly, to make sure it does not creak, and peers out into the inky abyss of
the night-painted hallway. It's not like he's scared, or anything, he's just...
he, he doesn't want to trip, and fall and break his neck or something, you see?
Tentatively setting his feet out, he creeps like a burglar trying to break into
someone's house. Tip, toe, tip, toe. God, that's pathetic. If Momo saw him she
would surely have a laughing fit.
He almost lets out a yelp when his clothed foot touched the hard, tiled surface
of the kitchen floor as opposed to the hallway carpet, alerting him that he has
reached his destination. 
Shintarou maneuvers through the kitchen to where he can only assume the fridge
would be, and is almost about to reach for the handle when he hears it.
The sound is raspy, yet smooth, and indescribably eerie. Shintarou goes stock
still, and every muscle, every cellin his body crystallizes and he does not
move, he does not move, as he listens for it to continue. It's the sound of
something rough sliding against something smooth, slowly, slowly, like a burlap
sack being drug against a marble floor. The noise dribbles into Shintarou's ear
like slick honey, and the fear in his stomache is bubbling in a frenzy so
fierce he swears that the organ with burst, flooding his insides with its
acidic juices. The pressure of the situation is heavy, so heavy that he might
as well be drowning, bones quickly collapsing under the weight of hundreds of
thousands of gallons of water piled atop his limp body.
And then, and then, every horror that he would've otherwise believed was
trapped inside his own warped brain became a reality as he felt slick, slick
masses winding up his body like a jungle creeper. This is... this is...
                    I  KNoW i've felt this feeling before.
 
                                       .
                                       .
"...Shintarou."
Who's...? Oh my, oh my, why, that voice, it sounded... it sounded just like a
classmate Shinatrou had known at some time... though looking back, it was
impossible to pinpoint when. One... Kokonose? Was that not his name? It sounded
right, it sounded right...
Ah... Ha... Haruka. Kokonose... Haruka? Bringing such a name to the front of
Shintarou's brain brought images of a dim-witted, bubbly boy with fluffy,
fluffy hair... But, but, Shintarou swear he's never met such a boy in his
life...
"Shintraou."
With a jolt he's brought back to reality, and in this such case, reality is
face to face with a boy who could not be so much older than he, with lime eyes
and hair the colour of gunpowder. His clothing appeared baggy and dark,
decorated with arrows, pointing up and pointing down.
Shintarou swears that he's never seen such a boy in his life.
                                  ...Have I?
The boy presses his ink-painted thumb against Shintarou's chin, tilting his
head upwards so that their eyes may meet. Neon yellow bore into the shorter
boy's being, flooding his brain with a fear that he cannot taste, yet a flavor
he knows, he knows.
"There's been a mistake, Shintarou." He speaks again, and damn, that voice is
like butter, coating his ear drums in a substance thick enough that he can no
longer hear his own thoughts (and while he will certainly not realize this now,
he was also deafened to the alarms sounding when he finally remembers whom
Kokonose Haruka was). The taller boy's eyes flutter as he stares into
Shintarou's foggy brain, and says, "So I'm gonna fix it."
Shintarou's brain is spinning, the room is spinning, everything is spinning
spinning spinning and Shintarou's brain begins to spiral out of control, until
they're no longer standing in a kitchen in favor of a hospital room.
A hospital room... a surely melancholy place to any who find the unfortune to
have to visit one, but for Shintarou, he felt something crack, inside that fine
glass wall deep in the silky tissue of his brain. A trigger, just a little
dent, and a death...
His sad train of thought is soon interrupted, however, by a push of his back
and he topples onto the mattress.
"W-What the f-mmph!" The NEET boy shudders when the other crashes their lips
together, jaw ramming into jaw with enough force to pop the soft lips and make
the bones crumble in a gritty dust.
The taller boy pulls back, straddling Shintarou's hips, allowing spit to
dribble from his open mouth as lime eyes hood with sudden unseen desire.
"Haruka had always wanted to do that, you know..." He says, smirking.
                                Haruka, Haruka.
                               Who is Haruka...
                          Haruka... would that be...
                                     you?
The inky-haired boy - "Haruka" - set quick work to undoing Shintaro's belt,
eyes lit up with a hunger far to extreme to be attributed to mere lust.
Shintarou began to panic; What is this, what's happening? Is this sex? Why
is... I don't understand
Shintarou's cock is not hard, and apparently that's an issue, seeing as how
Haruka's first goal appeared to be to make it so. He tapped his long, spindle
fingers to delicate rhythm of his own under the base of Shintarou's shaft,
before beginning to presses and squeeze, harder and harder, as though his dick
was a tub of emptied paint and he was trying to work out the last few drops.
The shorter boy wanted to protest, to scream, no noNO, anything, but it was
though his mouth was sealed tight shut with glue; even attempting to open his
jaw was a grueling process.
When he deemed the fuckstick hard enough Haruka breathed deeply before reaching
an arm behind himself, and Shintaro knows, knows what he must be doing back
there, his pants are down oh god oh god what the fuck?
It all happens so fast, so fast, that Shintarou's mind literally can't register
that Haruka has now forced his cock into the swampy confines of his bowels. It-
It's gross, it's so detestful, this squishy, squelching feeling, bubbling up
until it pops and splatters, how nasty, how nasty, Get off of me let me out let
me out-
His eyes finally meet Haruka's, and upon that hard lime gaze boring into him
again Shintaro remembers, Haruka - he was a sweet boy, he was so naïve and - he
would not want something like this.
The taller boy smirks as he brings his ass down onto Shintarou's hips
repeatedly, and is grinning like a Cheshire Cat when he asks, "Doesn't it just
feel heavenly?"
And in some sick, twisted recess of Shintarou's mind, he has to agree, because
even though it's mushy and foul, it's also tightand hot, squeezing around him
so good, so, so good...
He's even more disgusted with his own self when he feels he's about to climax,
hot pressure building inside his core and in the background he can hear Haruka
laughing, cackling and Shintarou stupidly hopes that when he comes the hot
liquid shoots up Haruka's spine and kills him.
Except - he never reaches that point.
It starts as a very minute pain. A senseless tugging, hefting his shaft deeper
and deeper into that sewage tunnel, and he assumes it's just Haruka's anal
muscles clenching tighter than before now that he was reaching his climax. Of
course he doesn't think anything of it - it would be illogical to do so.
But then the pain increases. It's sharp on his dick now, and he can feel the
muscles in his waist start to ache, as they were slowly and torturously
stretched. Haruka's eerie laughter disforms into a full blown cackling,
cracking through the air like a whip and Shintarous wants to scream, it hurts
so bad. It doesn't make sense it doesn't make sense - but it's reality. That
cavern in pulling in his flesh.
Like a mouth, it's terrifying. Unfathomablyso. But Shintarou's brain pops and
the fluids begin to run down his spine, cooling his nerves of the hot sharp
burning aCHE as he's literally eaten alive, by Haruka's ass.
His bones start snapping - literally, breaking into chunks as they are pulled
into the black hole. His organs condense and pop, vital life fluids gushing out
of every opening and spelling onto the floor in a sweet mix. Haruka cups
Shintarou's face as it cracks like fine China, explaining almost hysterically
the situation playing out before them.
"I had t-to figure out h-h-how to ge-ah!-t rid of you f-forever, Shinta-
tarou... S-So, I Ah-! thought, why not bec-come one...!" His speak broken up by
brittle stutters and gasps of sick satisfaction and pleasure as his anal
muscles devoured the fleshy mess that was Shintarou.
By the time the majority of Shintarou's body had already disappeared within
him, and Kuroha was certain the NEET boy was no longer alive, he clenched his
fist tight, ripping off the flesh of Shintarou's used-to-be face and holding it
close to his own.
"Kokonose Haruka..." He murmurs, to the boy residing deep within himself (now
one of two, haha). "Aren't you happy, that you were granted this one last
wish?"
Pressing the bloodied, squishy, fleshy mess to his mouth,
he bites down.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
End Notes
     *Ahem* it changes from "Haruka," which is used incorrectly from
     Shintarou's POV to "Kuroha" because at that point Shinshin is dead
     haha
      
     ha
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