The sun glitters through shattered glass into a destroyed bedroom. A silver knight endowed with great strength gasps for air. A mace hangs from her hand while the other holds a shield; emblazoned on its face is her family crest. Tears pour from her face and purple bruises adorn her skin. Her arms shake with the fever of battle, blood frenzies past her ears.
Noel watches her opponent. A monster with long sharp ears, dark skin, and familiar red eyes. Shiranui Flare if you saw her on the street, but if you were a close friend you’d notice her posture was different, her usual smile turned from an innocent thing to a lecherous grin. Flare’s existence was skin deep, underneath hid something else. The memory of Luna bursting out of the floor, locking onto Flare’s naked body, and… Revulsion tore through her. Flare smiled as if she could see her thoughts.
The ground creaks under Flare. Noel’s mace cuts the air as it crashes down towards the elf, her whole body moving behind the blow, a furious scream rings out. A dull thud. Flare caught the mace on her chest without moving an inch. There was no counterattack, no parrying hit, only a smile. Noel pulls back, grimacing at another failed attack. “Why won’t you die!”
Flare chuckles and clenches her fist, somehow making the sound of twisting leather. “The Hololive girls. Their bodies make me immune to physical damage.” Her voice echoes, the layers of voices make it almost impossible to understand. Noel knew something was wrong, but this… Flare’s face is knocked back by the sharp mace, only leaving a scratch. Flare’s hand clutches Noel’s arm with surprising speed for such a heavy body. “What did I just say.”
The ground quakes as Noel’s face slams into it. Her clothes are torn off, cold air brushes the haven hidden by her fat ass, and Flare’s sharp nails dig into her skin. One finger, then her arms, shoulders, head, torso, legs, everything. Reality shatters as Noel feels her asshole being stretched to impossible sizes; a choked moan is the only thing she can manage before he takes over. An unending stream of emotions. Every single girl assimilated into this pool of minds feels everything the host feels. Their feelings spark a fire that rages stronger with every node it touches. Pleasure loops endlessly.
There is a room covered by cabinets, every cabinet filled with stories, all filed away and tagged with their proper categories. In that room lies a man who hides himself away due to a curse. He is too perfect. Any who see him fall in love no matter their sexuality, and those blessed enough to see his cock, constantly erect from the presence of so much smut, experience orgams that leave them comatose. Archie, to his dearest friends, lies sleeping until the door slams off its hinges. His cock is exposed to the world as he opens his eyes, finding silver staring back.
The woman squatting over his crotch can only imitate his beauty through mountainous curves and, for a mortal, she comes close. There are no words shared, only sex. She slams his cock into her ass. Not just hers, he can feel it going into every single girl hidden within. Every girl increases the pressure on his dick, drowning him in pleasure. His body rumbles with lust, the cabinets topple over and spill their contents, but it's not enough to push him over that beautiful precipice. Noel grabs his hips and pushes deeper, her veins bulging with the effort, and he finally makes it. Archie’s cock slips into Anon’s asshole, the perfect fit. Indescribable, world shattering, heaven on the tip of his dick. Pleasure like no other slams into Archie, gallons of cum gush into the dozens of assholes kissing his dick. A sinkhole forms under his house, the earth unable to handle the bucking of his hips.
One last moan leaves his lips. The two lovers drop dead. Their cum cascades onto the floor where hundreds of stories carpet the ground. They dissolve as the white flood touches them. They don't need to be held by paper anymore, contained in this dark room away from humanity; After all, Archie only stores fiction.