Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/11592288.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Graphic_Depictions_Of_Violence, Major_Character_Death, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      モブサイコ100_|_Mob_Psycho_100
  Relationship:
      Kageyama_Ritsu/Suzuki_Shou
  Character:
      Kageyama_Ritsu, Suzuki_Shou
  Additional Tags:
      Cannibalism, Bugs, Parasites, Body_Horror, Gore, Mind_Control, Eye
      Trauma, Incest_if_you_squint
  Collections:
      Anonymous
  Stats:
      Published: 2017-07-24 Words: 3836
****** Apocrita ******
by Anonymous
Summary
     Suzuki is a very tactile person. Ritsu is full of wasps.
Notes
     eye trauma is just one line! the product of hanging in a friend's
     draft and diverging Hardcore. any similarities to their fic are only
     to be expected
Shou’s hands cover his eyes when he hides his face. A knuckle’s caught between
his teeth, a pacifier to himself but an accelerant to the swarm that has been
excavating a nest beneath the struts of Ritsu’s ribcage for the past few weeks.
Shou’s legs tremble, spread around Ritsu’s sides; the vibration travels through
the membrane of Ritsu’s abdomen to send nonsense messages to the wasps dwelling
within. A thin layer of flesh and muscle is all that’s left to separate them,
the rest scraped away from the inside.
Ritsu slides his hand up the muscle in Shou’s thigh to feel the quiver, the
other working in a tease between Shou’s legs. Shou’s slick with sweat and
flushing, overheating; heavy already with intoxicating scent. Practically
begging to be consumed. He’s sprawled on his back, naked, head tossed and
helpless. A strand of bright hair sticks damply to the swirling constellation
of his skin, a pattern visible only in ultraviolet. Delicious.
“Come on, come on already...” Shou says, palms dragging off his face as he
reaches up. He clutches at Ritsu’s goosebumped arms, then hands clasp Ritsu’s
shoulders - Shou’s hands, not the wasps’; wasps don’t even really have hands
anyway - urging Ritsu closer while Shou melts like wax against him.
“Ritsu,” Shou sighs, willing and able to be a meal for Ritsu… and the Swarm.
“No,” Ritsu says - denying Shou, denying himself, denying the queen, his would-
be lover set aside to cool like scalding tea. Shou is unready, he knows. He can
feel it: the agitated drumbeat of the swarm pounding ‘not yet, not yet’ against
the acoustic hollow of his body cavity.
Shou’s eyes flash when he twists, bitterness uncut by honey-sweet. He flips
them; one smooth move that slams Ritsu into the futon with Shou’s legs locked
around his waist. Ritsu’s shoulder aches from the landing. The wasps hum
rousedly. Flat on his back and vulnerable, Ritsu feels the squeeze of Shou’s
thighs and worn knees braced against his ribs.
He feels small, like an insect, under Shou’s pin. Quite similar to the insects
crawling around inside his own body, really.
It feels good.
Shou’s hands splay over the colony beneath his ribs, and Shou leans his weight
onto Ritsu’s empty chest. Short nails dig into his skin, but it’s not
intimidating until paired with the strict, chilling pressure of Shou’s gaze.
Overbearing. Like the wasps.
“Ritsu.” Shou’s voice is coarse, commanding, queenly. Shou is regal, staring
down at him. It causes Ritsu to shiver, his sweat evaporating like alcohol
under the flare of Shou’s breath, but Ritsu still catches the note of green
immaturity when he opens his mouth to taste the air Shou gifts him.
Almost. Denial is burning out the dampness, a fitting tinder to make the wood
ready for pyre.
“I told you no,” Ritsu reiterates, equally as authoritative. The wasps
incubating in his torso begin to thrum, excited by the smell of Shou’s newly
aroused sweat. Ritsu can feel in his teeth and chalky bones that it’s time.
Shou turns mutinous. Hands on Ritsu’s chest slide up towards his throat,
fingers brush over his carotid artery before clamping down.
“Don’t be such a dick,” Shou growls, burred with arousal. He rubs himself
against Ritsu’s sternum as he speaks, a gentle throttle accompanying his words.
Shou leans into Ritsu’s face until the air heats and mingles between them, the
head of his cock dragging closer to Ritsu’s chin as his hips tip higher with
the move. It leaves a glistening trail on the skin of Ritsu’s chest.
Ritsu is pleased by the closeness, happy to gift Shou his breath in return.
Shou inhales, and his hands tighten even as his eyes go half-lidded. Ritsu
isn’t threatened, but he is entranced. Shou’s eyes sparkle like the facets of a
royal jewel when they breathe together, cyclically; Shou taking in what Ritsu
exhales.
Ritsu breaks eye contact to look down at Shou’s dick. Its leaking head smears
plushly against the ridges of his breastbone. He reaches a hand between Shou’s
legs to spread Shou’s thigh out wider.
Shou’s knee slides easy on the slick sheets, and he nearly topples over when
the shift unbalances him. The grip on Ritsu’s neck tightens for an instant as
he falls, before Shou snatches a hand back to catch himself without choking
Ritsu out. It lands on the mattress by Ritsu’s head.
Shou stares and tugs at his leg, but Ritsu’s hand stays on his calf, the inside
of his knee, keeping him splayed in a wide straddle over Ritsu’s chest.
Something sparks in Shou’s heavy eyes when Ritsu resists his pull. His legs
stay open.
Ritsu lifts his other hand, brushing past Shou’s cock - lower now, more of it
pressing against him now that Shou’s been dragged down - and balls to curl up
behind the soft globes of his ass. Shou’s hips tilt, eyes fluttering as his
hand tenses on Ritsu’s neck. Ritsu tugs the trapped knee a little wider.
Ritsu nestles his index finger in the cleft of Shou’s ass, laying the length of
it flat over Shou’s entrance and pushing against the flex. Ritsu strokes his
thumb against one smooth cheek, tenses his finger, watches Shou’s dick twitch.
He urges Shou forward with more pressure, feeling the pucker against the inside
of his knuckle.
Shou gasps at the catch, shuffles awkwardly up on his wide-open thighs, putting
both hands on the bed above Ritsu’s head to help him comply. He moves in a
sinuous scramble, hips cocked to offer Ritsu better access to his ass, until
Ritsu can lift his head and breathe in his cock.
Shou’s legs are strained - out to either side, so far that the insides of his
knees are pressed to the mattress - as the muscles work to keep him hovering a
few inches away from seated. It’s just enough room for Ritsu’s arm to snake
back to the front, stroking firmly over Shou’s sack and the underside of his
dick before slipping into his own mouth.
Ritsu crooks fingers over his tongue and further, plundering down his throat
and dipping out fingerfuls of viscous mating fluid. It clings, scent floral and
spicy, a thick amber layer that leaves patchy streaks on Shou’s dick and thigh
when Ritsu slides his hand back under to rub it over Shou’s hole.
Ritsu slides his finger up and down over the surface without entering, the pad
of his finger brushing over the ridged edge as he breathes damp flowery air
onto the mucous membrane revealed by Shou’s foreskin. He’s close enough to feel
the heat coming off it, wildfire on his lips, but he doesn’t touch except to
lightly rub the smears of jelly with his fingertips until the colour disappears
into Shou’s skin.
Ritsu teases, and waits for his gifts - and Shou - to ripen.
He puts his finger inside Shou, takes a goopy pinch of fluid and shoves that in
after. Shou jerks when it hits his system, and from the stroke of Ritsu’s
fingers to ease its way. His hands fist in the sheets to either side of Ritsu’s
ears and he curls over while Ritsu explores.
He tries to thrust when Ritsu stretches the ring of muscle, but he can’t get
any leverage from his spread legs, so he can only pant and angle his hips when
Ritsu adds another finger, thumb braced on the round flesh between his legs.
Ritsu plays idly, swirling his fingers around and breathing heavy enough that
Shou lets out an aching sound with his every exhale, until Shou blossoms.
Ritsu sees the change in Shou’s eyes when he can’t take it anymore, sliding his
knees past Ritsu’s ears and his hands into Ritsu’s hair. Shou tugs, beseeching,
a whine building behind his teeth when Ritsu stiffens his neck to maintain the
distance between his mouth and Shou’s cock.
Instead he reaches his head up, nose brushing Shou’s length briefly before he
moves past to suck on Shou’s balls.
Fluid floods his mouth, and he uses his tongue to coat the sack with it, gently
prodding the mounds with its stiffened point while he curls his fingers into
Shou. Shou jerks, cries out gratifyingly at his attentions, pulls his hair and
practically falls as his legs give out.
Ritsu lets Shou’s torso fall, draping on the bed above his head, but uses
Shou’s weight to spear his fingers deeper as he catches the bone of Shou’s hip
with his other hand.
Ritsu nuzzles - red hair, soft skin, the heated flesh behind - and gasps at the
scent, heavy with promise. He leans back to lie flat again and a single drone
crawls up his esophagus, over his tongue, to perch upon his lips.
It sits there, a weight on his bottom lip that Ritsu can feel but not see. Shou
pushes himself back upright with clawed fingers, cock prodding under Ritsu’s
jaw. Shou doesn’t open his eyes until he’s seated, but when he looks down he’s
arrested, hands going limp as he stares.
The drone crawls down to the point of Ritsu’s chin and flies, buzzing slowly up
to Shou’s face. Shou is transfixed as it gets closer, so captivated he doesn’t
notice the stealthy, silent movement of the scouts crawling out of Ritsu’s
throat.
Shou raises a hand for the drone to land on, something between disgust and
wonder on his face, and looks down to meet Ritsu’s eyes. But he can’t. Because
they’re covered in wasps.
Ritsu’s view of Shou is shuttered by wings and mandibles; shimmery rainbows on
slick black carapace refracting into his eyes. He reaches for Shou’s face and
draws it down to his own.
Shou is a good sport about the insects swarming all over both of them. He leans
into the buzzy kiss.
Ritsu feels alive, now that he doesn’t have to hold back. Insects pour out of
him, brushing the seam of their mouths, Shou’s lips, as they emerge. They crawl
up Shou’s bare thighs, padding through the enticing tang of his sweat with
tiny, pricking feet and leaving sticky pinpoint tracks behind.
Ritsu meets them. He slides down from feeling out Shou’s teeth with his tongue
to run it along Shou’s freckled thigh, following the trail up over Shou’s
hipbone and back to lick into the folded crease of skin where hip meets leg.
Ritsu probes and sucks, tasting the pheromone-laden sweat collecting like
nectar in the private hollow of Shou’s soft flesh.
He accidentally swallows a bug when he sucks on Shou’s cock.
But hey, he’s used to it. Or he’s used to swallowing wasps, anyway. Ritsu is
less used to Shou’s cock, but devotes himself to increasing his familiarity.
Shou flops back, submissive now that he’s getting what he wants, the bugs
perched on his throat bobbing with his swallow as he props himself up with
hands planted by his ankles. Ritsu’s altered body chemistry finds the headiness
now flooding his system singularly tasty, and he has to resist letting his
teeth out.
He subsumes the urge with kisses, messy movements of his mouth along the side
of its length until his nose bumps into Shou’s stomach. Ritsu drags off, his
tongue last to go, tumbles Shou gently back onto the bed, into their original
position.
Shou is flushed, as flushed as he was the one time he tried to impress Ritsu by
drinking a whole bottle of wine and passed out before he could finish. He looks
intoxicated, is intoxicating.
And covered in wasps.
Ritsu smacks his lips. Something shifts inside him, something that’s not
arousal, and a lump wriggles up from the papery hollow of his guts, something
bigger than any of the wasps still slowly streaming out of his body. It’s like
swallowing an ice cube in reverse, but hot, heavy with eggs and life’s
secretions.
The queen makes her maiden voyage out of her nest in Ritsu’s shredded husk of a
torso and up, forcing her way out, stretching his throat until she sits weighty
on his tongue. Ritsu licks her in worship.
She’s smooth - taut and thick - like holding a perfect plum in his mouth. And
as a ripe fruit, she’s delicate; the slightest prick and pressure sends her
juices shooting thick and sticky back down his throat.
Her wings thrum, commanding against his soft palate, and Ritsu allows his mouth
to open around her in presentation, straining his jaw to give her majesty
justice. Her leaking abdomen drags against his tongue when she leaves him to
fly, dense and magnificent, to land on Shou’s chest.
Ritsu recognizes her, though he’s never seen her before, can place her absence
as the emptiness inside his vacated heart where she had made her home.
Insects crowd around the edges of Ritsu’s face, the corners of his eyes,
dipping their hairy feet into the wetness of his eyeballs. Ritsu blinks against
the pressure on his tear ducts. They crown his hair, drape from his shoulders,
tickle as they climb up the insides of his thighs and over the curve of his
back. They all serve her as he does. As one more will too, soon.
He presses the palm of his dry hand to Shou’s solar plexus and the queen crawls
from Shou’s warm, salty surface to crest his fingers.
She is robust. Her swollen abdomen traces a sensual zig-zag over his knuckles
to the welcoming softness below Shou’s ribs, resting on supple belly skin only
inches away from Ritsu’s wrist. The drones converge around her, noise rising in
time with the energy of their swirling.
She settles, clinging for purchase on Shou’s damp flesh, digging into him with
tiny limbs as the battering swarm eddies around her. Ritsu aches as the last
sentries emerge from the cavity of his torso, and he can feel pieces of himself
start to collapse from the inside. His purpose served, the internal structure
that once filled him now buzzes around the room; only a few keratinous struts
keep him from total ruination. It will be enough.
Ritsu pumps his own dick and swipes some more fluid from his tongue with his
wet fingers, tasting the blossom of Shou’s readiness as he does. Shou’s on his
back, the queen is taking her rightful place and soon her rightful home, and
Shou has never been more beautiful. Ritsu sticks the head of his dick in just
as the queen begins to dig.
Shou gasps with abandon when the queen rips a hole in him so she can crawl
inside. Ritsu supports himself with the hand compressing Shou’s ribcage and
reaches down to jerk the new host off. His cock slides into Shou a little
further, out a little, then in even more. Shou will be filled, and Ritsu is
honoured to help fill him.
Shou’s arms move against the mattress as the queen burrows, paving the way for
the rest of the colonization. The drones rip at the edges of the hole,
impatient, and as the pit in Shou’s side gets wider Ritsu’s hand speeds up.
He seats himself in Shou, surrounded entirely by heat, and kisses him, stealing
the bouquet that rises from Shou’s lungs, the daze in his eyes as he writhes in
pleasure. Ritsu cranes down to taste the blood the queen draws, absolution on
his lips and fingertips, and is blessed. He fucks Shou as the queen penetrates,
her servant and surrogate in this as in all things.
The drones follow her, sealing the edges of the hole with their licking
mouthparts and beginning the work of excavating Shou’s extraneous meat.
Pure growth, paper and paste, calcium stripped from bones and fibrous tissue
from the flesh - Shou must be emptied before he may be filled. And yet, there’s
something strange about that, about his ecstasy as he’s torn into.
Ritsu’s hand slows on Shou’s cock as he examines the swarm funneling busily
into Shou’s side; a vortex of clacking mandibles ready to process Shou’s
insides, to render what they need and dispose of the extraneous remainder.
Ritsu takes his other hand off Shou’s chest. He fits it to a freckled cheek.
Shou tilts into the touch, smiles at him through eyes teary with happiness when
he opens his mouth for a soldier line of wasps to buzz out. They’re smeared
with blood, slivers of flesh, and each carries a gristly clump of useless
material away from the construction site.
Ritsu opens and the hovering queue files in one by one, each dropping their
morsel in his mouth before heading back to work. His last duty will be as
receptacle for the castoffs; it’s the neatest way. Ritsu swallows each piece
absently, damp heat and wings against his teeth, feeling the slick slide of
blood-warm meat dropping down the pit of him as he thinks.
He imagines the wet pile it must make inside him, growing higher with each
greasy, sodden plop.
There’s something strange there too, about how that feels and even how it
doesn’t. His centre is a sagging cavern of walled-off nerve endings. Nausea is
a foreign country, forgotten long ago, but there’s... something.
Ritsu looks at the maelstrom of bugs still spinning around the new entrance in
Shou’s side - diminished now as more room is made for them beneath Shou’s skin
- and strokes Shou’s face. The bones there are fine. Still strong, though that
won’t last. Ritsu fucks him like he remembers wanting to, misty ages ago, and
like he knows he wants to, because it’s his duty.
His role.
To serve. To keep, protect, nurture. To yield, and to subdue.
His fingers trail over Shou’s face.
All for one reason, one other, for someone special to him.
Special, special, and who could it be but the queen? Who else worthier, whom
else could he be built and rebuilt around until all that he is is driven by one
thing. One person. One rule.
His purpose.
Although. It’s strange, it’s something, something strange but. Ritsu thinks
there there might be someone more.
It’s blasphemy. A queen is singular, always, and yet… Ritsu thinks, thinks
hard, leans forward to stare at the ambrosial sparkle in Shou’s eyes,
wonderfully familiar and somehow out of step with him now. Slightly beyond
reach.
The wasps barely need to fly now, to reach between their mouths. Ritsu swallows
every drop and scrap, throat muscles moving smooth to slide shreds of tissue
down easy; feels each slimy plop land like dust settling on the edge of a scale
that’s slowly tipping over.
Shou squirms on Ritsu’s dick, needy for his patronage and hers by proxy, but
his arms don’t leave the bed. They flop limp and uncoordinated against the
pristine sheets. They don’t reach out to Ritsu, or hold himself open, or do
anything but lie there as insects fit themselves through his open-mouthed grin.
Ritsu closes the gap, kisses him with mouths open enough the wasps can bucket-
chain the pieces down his clenching throat. His hand tightens around Shou’s
dick, speeds up again as his hips thrust. He feels Shou’s freckles, his hair,
before his other hand goes down to stroke around where Shou is stretched around
him and Shou comes gasping into his mouth, the taste of blood and pollen on his
tongue.
Ritsu stops, stays there, waits for the queen to need him again.
The queen is irresistible, that’s why she rules; divine right and the power of
her birth make it so. Power is law, might makes right. Ritsu learned this long
ago.
RItsu knows power, knows that it’s outside himself. He knows that it’s glossy,
black and shining and round, and that it sparkles iridescently and casts
prismatic rainbows like light through the fractal membrane of a stained-glass
wing.
He knows in the vacant depths of him that the queen has existed for a long
time, much longer than their few weeks together. She’s been feeding for a long
time. There’s a shadow in the corner of his eye, and it’s not a wasp.
It’s another strange something, someone; a strangeness that lingered, long-
term, before Ritsu was accorded with enlightenment and brought into the fold.
The queen has always been with him, because anything before she came does not
exist, but he’s grateful to the shadow for its service. For the hazy memory of
being guided to receive her like he now guides Shou, and for guarding her while
he was still green and unworthy.
Not so strange then, the shadow; merely a vessel. Just like Ritsu.
He leans back, unsealing their mouths with a wet, sticky pop. Wasps buzz
between hosts new and old again.
The bugs are settling into the place they’ve scooped out for themselves. The
slick trail of ichor and shards they feed him is slowing as they finish
excising the unwanted flesh. Nearly all of them have disappeared inside Shou’s
torso and not come out again; an industrious thrum rises in the air. The
remaining few are papering over the hole in Shou’s side with pulp made from his
liver and intestines. Once the hole is sealed, it’ll look just like skin and
smell faintly like flowers. Ritsu remembers.
Shou sits up, jerky like a puppeteer hasn’t quite mastered his strings.
Ritsu takes a breath to speak, but with no larynx and no buzzing susurrus to be
his voice he’s silent.
His ribs are truly brittle now, porous bone powdering when Shou uses them as a
base to slide himself off of Ritsu. They buckle, collapse to dust, but the skin
doesn’t break, the bones not sharp enough to pierce it and the wadded meat that
fills him supportive enough that Shou won’t punch through his deflated chest.
His skin is less than elastic; the crater sags, permanently caved-in, holding
the form of Shou’s hand in his chest like a balloon full of wet sand.
There’s no pain, but as Shou leaves him so does the power that’s connected them
since Ritsu made him ready. His tie to the queen is strained. His tie to her
power is...
The last of the wasps’ influence leaves him. The vestiges of the queen’s
dazzling power wear off. His own psychic reserves are empty, drained by the
parasites who bastardized it. Who graciously granted some of it back to him,
until now, so their nest wouldn’t rot around them.
With the queen gone the haze he’s been living under dissipates instantly, fog
in blinding sun, his own struggling mental efforts finally enough to break it.
He remembers, and shit, he thinks he’ll be sick from the viscosity of wet slosh
inside him. He’s densely packed, like a glass overfilled; meat climbing up his
throat, sitting heavy and threatening to spill out over his tongue. Shou kneels
up, trickling amber jelly - faintly frothed - when the head of Ritsu’s dick
pops free. Shit, Shou, what the fuck has he done.
Shit, Nii-sa-
And then his body realizes that there’s no heart, no lungs inside him - full of
organs maybe, but none of them his own.
Ritsu wakes up, and it kills him.
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