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When the dust clears, Overhaul can barely recognise the boy clinging desperately to Eri. Unconscious, his eyes are closed over the resolute madness that must surely be his trademark. Through the tears of the costume hanging loosely off him, Overhaul glimpses narrow shoulders, scrawny arms, slender waist, and a body that seems as if it would snap in half if Overhaul held him too hard.

And he wants to, he realises. He wants to preserve this fragile existence, purged of the disease of "quirks", made pure by Eri's hand. A promise of the world they will restore together.

He will begin with the boy.

The boy always resists in the beginning, when Overhaul comes for him in the evening. Which is why Overhaul begins ablutions with rope around his wrists and ankles as Overhaul dunks his head into a tub of soapy, warm water over and over again, until the boy is gasping for breath and tearing up from the sting.

He cleans the boy, from the skin behind his ears to the one between his legs. When the boy's skin is red and raw, Overhaul stops, and destroys him, and remakes him, as clean and good as new.

His fingers trace the blue veins beneath the ghostly skin of the boy's hand, once marked with scars, now soft and unblemished, even moreso than a newborn's.

"Chi-Chisaki-san," the boy says, shaking like a leaf. "Please..."

He is laughably small in Overhaul's lap, the shadows of Overhaul's outstretched arms overhead fallen across his face in a vague crucifix, back pressed to Overhaul's broad chest and monstrous form.

Overhaul takes the boy's chin between his fingers and kisses him, slow and exploratory. The boy whimpers and shoves at his chest, but weeks of confinement have taken their toll, and he feels no more than a kitten's paw. Overhaul's teeth, sharper now, break the skin on the boy's pink lips, the coppery taste of blood flooding his mouth. Overhaul takes the boy's blood into his body, where it will purify the filth within himself.

Overhaul hooks his finger over the collar of the boy's shirt, too large on him, and rips it apart with the point of his claw. He nicks the boy, red blooming across that pale, trembling chest, as the shirt falls apart at his waist into the torn petals of a flower bearing its fruit.

The boy bites down on his knuckles, tears swimming in his eyes. He used to resist far more violently, until Overhaul started using that one word like some spell, "Eri". Now his efforts seem more consolatory, to provide some illusion of autonomy to the battered mind Overhaul has remade over and over again.

Overhaul flicks his tongue, snake-like, against the boy's rosebud nipple. He takes it into his mouth, always a hint of sharp teeth as he sucks down and rolls it between his tongue.

The boy shivers. "Hah..."

He latches onto the boy's other nipple with the mouth on his hand, groping the pale expanse of his chest with blackened fingers as he circles the slowly hardening nub with his tongue. A hand falls to stroking soft thighs and a softer cock.

"Chi...Hah...Chisahh...I don't...please..."

Overhaul slips another hand between his thighs to smooth a thumb over the boy's hole, where Overhaul has taken his virginity and reshaped the boy around his cock innumerable times. The boy jerks his hips away from the touch, but that only serves to thrust his cock up into Overhaul's fist and tear a moan from his throat.

Tears prick at his eyes. His small body shakes, both from the sensory overload of having his sensitive chest played with while his little cock is surrounded by warm friction and his perineum stroked by long fingers, and from the humiliation of it. Overhaul cups the boy's jaw, and he noses into the poor imitation of comfort, dripping snot and tears.

Overhaul releases both his nipples, now bright red and swollen to match the deep flush of his chest. He lifts his hybridised hand to the boy's mouth. "Get it wet."

Teary, green eyes fix on his. "Chisaki-san," he says, voice barely a whisper. "Please, I don't - "

Overhaul sighs and shoves his fingers into the boy's mouth. He chokes and splutters, drops of spit landing on Overhaul's chin, but with a sniffle, soon gets to work, tonguing at the skin between long fingers and sucking at the tips, soldiering through the teeth that nip at his lips and the alien tongue inching towards his gag reflex. He has no choice. This is all the lubricant Overhaul will offer him, not willing to taint neither the boy's pure body nor place any kind of barrier, or filter, between their joining, certainly not one of filthy chemicals and sketchy liquids.

Overhaul thrusts his fingers deeper into the boy's mouth and he gags, drool spilling from the corner of his lips and red-rimmed eyes prickling with tears. His throat convulses around Overhaul's hand and mouth, a glorious sensation. Still silently begging Overhaul for mercy with those eyes that flip so tempestuously between innocence and defiance, shiny and green and pretty like gemstones Overhaul aches to pluck out of his skull just to build an altar to.

He slips his fingers out the boy's mouth. The boy sucks in a greedy breath of air, chest shuddering. Overhaul doesn't bother to wait for him to finish before he pushes the boy down. He forces the boys legs apart and presses a slick finger to his entrance.

"Chisaki-san," the boy begs. "Please don't - "

He chokes on a cry as Overhaul thrusts long, broad fingers in, even so keeping a vice-like grip on Overhaul's fingers, sucking him in greedily, unable to cope with the emptiness between his legs. Overhaul would know. He constructed the boy so.

He finds the boy's prostate where he left it and curls his fingers around it without preamble. The boy shouts, legs jerking straight around Overhaul's shoulders like a pulled bow, pupils blown wide, a feverish sheen of sweat glistening along his neck. He squeezes his eyes shut, but the tears spill across cheeks flushed with humiliation nevertheless. "Stop - "

Overhaul ignores him. With his free hands, he twists his nipples cruelly as he forces another finger in, making the boy cry out from the burn and sudden intrusion, and strokes the boy's prostate with mechanical precision. Overhaul has taken the boy almost as many times as he's remade him; he knows what will force pleasure upon the boy.

He knows what will force pain upon the boy as well, both in mind and body. But that is a knowledge he would prefer not to have to use.

The boy's hair is plastered to his forehead with sweat, his eyes delirious as he drools onto the sheets. "Hah...Chisaki-san, I can't - "

Overhaul tucks his thumb against his palm and shoves his curled fist into the boy.

A scream distorted by sobs. "St-stop! Stop it! Stop - "

Yes. This is what he desires. The hand he raises to destroy and resurrect all these pawns of mud and dirt, buried in the boy's suffocating tightness, cleansing in its heat.

And still it is not enough.

He twists. The boy screams. It must feel magnified, the smallest of motions of his entire fist turning inside the boy. Overhaul forces his way further into the boy.

"Nononononono - "

Overhaul unfolds his hand, slowly, one finger at a time, splaying out his fingers to spread the boy wide open on them. The boy's screams thin out and strain as Overhaul strokes his twitching walls, first hints of pleasure spluttering into weak sparks between his reconfigured neurons.

Then Overhaul drives his tongue into the boy's prostate and he wails, heels digging into Overhaul's hulking back.

"Do-don't!" he struggles to make himself coherent through sobs and half-moans. "Don't, please, no - "

Overhaul drags his tongue along the inside of the boy's walls, tasting salt and soap. He inhales sharply and leans forward, hungry for more, lapping at the underside of the boy's jawline and his slender neck, the sweet taste of clean, unblemished youth exploding on both his tongues.

The boy moans, high and reedy. "Hah...N-no..."

He wants to be inside the boy, for a taste of what a purified world will be like. No; the boy will become their world, and Overhaul that world's God.

He draws his fist out, slowly. The boy blinks blearily at him through a haze of tears, confused. "H-huh? Chi-Chisaki-san? Wh...?"

Overhaul wraps all four of his arms around the teary-eyed boy and pulls him into his chest. Mind clouded by pleasure, desperation, and sheer loneliness, the boy does not resist - not the fingers carded through his damp hair, not the hand splayed out to span the width of his bloodied chest, not the claws piercing the baby fat on his thighs. And certainly not the lips on his.

The boy cries beautifully in Overhaul's arms. He's always thought of the heart as an unclean thing - snot and tears disgusting, toothy grins unbecoming - but the boy's tears, he licks up like wine.

"I am doing all this for you," Overhaul reminds him. The boy sobs louder and burrows into his chest.

Two hands descend the stepladder of the boy's ribs down to his prominent hipbones, holding him down in a bruising grip as Overhaul lines his cock up against the boy's entrance. A steady stream of pleas spill from the boy's bleeding and bruised lips. Overhaul touches a finger to those lips then slips past them to rub at the inside of the boy's cheeks and his tongue, garbling his words.

He moves his hand and caresses the boy's cheek. A sob hitches in the boy's throat. Overhaul brushes his tears away, resting his hand at his jaw to cradle his face.

"I will protect you," Overhaul says. "From the diseased world outside."

The boy fists his hands tighter in the sheets and shakes his head. "Please...let me go," he gasps out, between sobs.

His whole body seizes up with the force of his scream as Overhaul thrusts into him. Overhaul hisses at the pressure around his cock. His claws break the skin at the boy's hips, dripping blood down quivering thighs.

The boy's knuckles whiten from his death grip on the sheets. "Ngh...! Ahh, ah, Chisa-Chisaki...san...!"

Overhaul frowns. Perhaps he shouldn't have fisted the boy. Then again, to have to reset the boy now...

"Wh-wha...Chisaki-san!? What are you - " his eyes widen at the second cock braced at his entrance, already puffy and stretched on Overhaul's cock. He shakes. "No, no way - "

"I do this for you," Overhaul tells him.

The glassiness of the boy's eyes are gone, replaced by muddled fear. "It won't, it won't fit, hah, Chisaki-san, y-you'll break me - "

Overhaul circles the boy's swollen rim with his thumb. "That's fine," he says. "I'll fix you back up afterwards."

"No!" Fists come up to pound weakly, desperately at his chest. "No, you can't, please, please - "

Overhaul forces the head of his cock in beside the first. The boy lets out a guttural scream. "T-take it out! Take it - stop!" Hot tears spill down his face. "It hurts! It hurts - "

"A-ah, you're so tight," Overhaul pants. He can barely breathe, feels almost lightheaded from the intensity with which the boy is taking him, sobbing around his cocks, fists curled in his shirt, nearly bent back in half. He rubs his thumbs in circles over the dip of the boy's hipbones and wipes away his tears.

"I'm going to move now," he says.

"W-wait," the boy gasps. "I can't - "

He pushes in, inch by inch, barely enough friction before it is gone, leaving him famished. Sweat beads on his forehead and stings his eyes.

He tightens his already-bruising grip on the boy's hips and pulls the boy all the way down onto his cock.

The boy's head lolls back, a strained, gurgling sound at the back of his throat, his throat convulsing around a scream that would not take shape without enough air.

"G-good boy," Overhaul says. He closes his eyes, unlearned muscles fluttering around his cock, tight and hot and wet. His breath hitches in his throat. He could lose himself in this intoxicating heat.

He fumbles with his freehand at the sheets, and squeezes the boy's hand. The boy hiccups and does not resist as Overhaul laces their fingers together.

Each snap of Overhaul's hips have him shrieking in pain, until enough blood has gathered to somewhat lubricate the way. The boy digs his nails into Overhaul's palms and gasps and shudders at each thrust nevertheless, flinching at the slick dripping down his thighs, never quite sure the nature or the source.


And so even demigods who challenge fate can be reduced to this, sobbing and shaking like a leaf beneath him. Overhaul thinks him breathtakingly beautiful like this. The rest of the world, festering with wounds, does not deserve him. And they will not have him.

Not until Overhaul razes it all to the ground and rebuilds it in the boy's shape, just as he remakes the boy around his.

Heat coils tight within his belly. He growls and fucks into the boy faster and harder. He hears a crack followed by a whimper - it's fine, he will fix the boy later.

The boy's eyelids flutter open, the pinprick point of light in his pupils swallowed by the darkness of his glassy irises. "Hurts...please..." he croaks.

His sweet face, blotchy from crying, and the red on his chest, blush and blood indistinguishable. It is twisted so beautifully in his agony.


Overhaul slides his hand down from the boy's jaw. With nothing but his thumb and forefinger he circles the entirety of the boy's fragile neck.

The boy's eyes widen and his hands fly up to scrabble uselessly at Overhaul's as he chokes the boy, mirroring the tightness around his cock, as if they could both be remade in this heat. Saliva froths at his lips, the whites of his eyes show, and he clenches beautifully around Overhaul.

The base of his cocks swell with Overhaul's knots. Tears well up in the boy's eyes as he is stretched even more, impossibly so, on Overhaul. His hands go limp, and his knees hiked up over Overhaul's shoulders slacken.

When Overhaul releases his neck, the boy gasps, and his cock fills with blood against his stomach.

Overhaul grunts and spills inside of him, painting his insides with continuous thick ropes of come, enough that some leak through his knot to mingle with the blood drying on the boy's thighs. He strips the boy's cock, painfully hard and brutal, even as the boy whimpers and trembles and sobs from the endless pressure on his oversensitive prostate.

Eventually the boy falls asleep, his broken hand still twined with Overhaul's.