blackwidow: (Default)
posted by [personal profile] blackwidow at 12:32am on 30/09/2010 under , , , , , , ,
Title: Lover Mine
Fandom: YYH
Pairing: Karasu/Sakyo
Rating: R
Warnings: Violence, rape, torture.
Summary: Sakyo is held captive by Karasu. He is, of course, appropriately tormented.
Notes: Yeah okay, I had to have Karasu call him Mr Sakyo. It feels like sacrilege not to have him do so after reading [profile] sekahyyh’s stuff. Written for [profile] yyh_kinkmeme .


-

Lover Mine

Never your own.
-

Darkness bore down on them, almost stifling in the darkened room. The window was open, and the lace curtains were still and lifeless.

He shifted onto his side and the slide of metal on wood echoed around the empty room. Looking up to the window, he stared at the red infused sky and felt the weight of his wager's consequences bearing down on him. Toguro, back when he was still alive, had warned him against Karasu. He'd done as advised then, but after the defeat of Team Urameshi, after seeing them all waste away, he was left with the results of it all. The fall out.

Time passed, Karasu and Bui slaughtered Ani and Oto.

He'd ignored them mostly, in the past, but he'd appreciated that Karasu and he had shared much of the same temperament. A blessing as much as it was a shame.

Now he was here, chained to the floor of an old, dying castled that creaked and howled like a woman's old bones and he, naked, and tethered in place, had no chance of freedom ever again. Whether he lived or died was entirely dependent on Karasu's willingness to leave him be for another day, another visit, another rape.

Bui came to him sometimes, silent and imposing, tying his hands behind his back and running a cold cloth between his legs and over his face. He'd even given him a cigarette once.

"You won't find mercy in me," he'd said calmly when Sakyo had attempted to make a deal with him one early morning with the sun hidden behind the thickest clouds and rolling thunder he'd heard yet. Rain batted against the house and made dew on the fighter's armour until it began to drip down onto Sakyo himself. "I only do this because I expect you to hold his interest for a little while longer until we move again."

Moving. Always, every few months, they would shift to another location. To keep under the radar of the new spirit detective and SDF.

Gingerly he pushed himself up onto his hands and knees, gritting his teeth at the way moving so aggravated the burnt skin on the insides of his thighs and backs of his knees. The chain dragged along the floor again, putting weight on the thick collar around his neck.

A knee slammed into his ribs and he went sailing through the air only to be pulled up short when the chain snapped taut and jerked at his neck. Instinct had him make a hideous sound as his throat constricted and something in him tore and bled, he was sure. The pain of it made his eyes roll back in his head and it took him a few delirious moments before he was coherent enough to order his body to move closer to where the chain was bolted to the floor.

He coughed and hacked, and oddly, there was no sound. That more than anything made him shake. He looked over to the booted feet by the bolt in the floor and wanted to murmur a small, sarcastic and so very resilient response. Nothing came. Not even whisper.

Crouching down by the bolt in the floor, Karasu hooked a finger in one of the links of the chain. Slowly, he pulled at it, and Sakyo gave in without complaint. It was always that way. He had, after all, made a bet with the demon and lost. If nothing else, he refused to go back on his own word. He'd lost his life, now it wasn't his own. It was Karasu's.

"Seems I've finally crushed your vocal cords, Mr Sakyo," Karasu purred, yanking hard enough on the chain that Sakyo finally had to crawl closer lest the tension cut off his air supply completely.

In the darkness, only occasional flashes of lightning allowed Sakyo's weaker human vision the sight of Karasu crouching there, his knees wide as he crouched on the heels of his feet. Sable hair hung down cutting dark paths through ivory skin, bruised with whatever training he'd been in lately. His mask was gone, replaced instead with blond hair and a thin, wide smirk that made something in Sakyo's belly twist despite every ounce of stoic denial he threw up around himself like a barrier to protect his sanity.

The rest of him had been warped beyond recognition long ago, but that small part of him, the untainted, instinctual part that valued the gift of living, protested as loudly as it could against death, against his outwardly blasé reactions and refusal to scream or think this was anything other than his own bad luck.

Leaning forward a little further and fisting a hand in Sakyo's blood-caked hair he pulled the other man closer and propped him up like a doll, tracing over the flush of the bruise that was appearing around the human's neck. Blooming like a flower as he bled and bled and the skin kept it all from escaping.

Long thin fingers traced the scar over his right eye and Sakyo thought for a moment those fingers would strike at him until he dug the ball out, but he resisted. If Sakyo had learned anything from his time with Karasu it was that he never attacked the face, at least not until later, when all he had was a corpse instead of a body and the intimacy was gone and all he could hope for were faint reflections of it all and slowly dying memories.

Jerked up onto his knees as Karasu stood, Sakyo moved only as much as he had to to keep the chain from tightening and his oxygen supply being broken off as the demon seated himself on the old wooden chair he'd long since dragged into the centre of the room. Like handling a child, Karasu reached down for him with long limbed grace and picked him up, placed him in his lap like it was purely natural to do so when you were both naked and old blood was slowly rotting away at the wooden floor until the chair rocked slightly at each small movement.

Then pain shot throughout him like a firecracker, splintering off in all different directions along his limbs. Why Karasu adored making the flesh of his thighs explode he would never know. He arched and screamed only there wasn't a single sound that escaped him expect for a wet kind of gurgle and the hiss of air as he screamed silently. Long fingers tightened in his hair and yanked his head back as the other slipped around him and lifted him up. He felt the hardness of Karasu's cock beneath him and now he did struggle, clawing at long fingers and touch inhuman skin. Useless, ultimately.

Karasu only moaned at his struggled as he forced his way inside, pushing past the ring of muscles so torn and abused they no longer gave the slightest resistance. The sting of his entry was the least of it, like a mere drop in the ocean to Sakyo's agony. Mad bombs burst from the wooden floor and clamped on to his legs, holding them wide so Karasu could lean back against the chair and thrust up into him as he writhed and tried to make any sound of protest he could to drown out the sounds of Karasu's moans and the soft squelch of his own blood.

It lasted for all too long--felt like an eternity and beyond, so much longer than the others for some reason. Colour flashed behind his eyes and exhaustions seemed to seep through him, his body tired and his mind rebellious. He was slouching forward, held upright only by Karasu's hold on his hair by the time the other came with a grunt and a shudder. Again came the sting and the horrid feeling of sinking.

Still, he could only pant and wheeze weakly for air, his eyes closing slowly. Without his words to place distance between them, what was he but a puppet to his once-disgraced underling?

Karasu leaned forward and pulled his head up, pressed a kiss to his jaw--mockingly sweet. "I like it better when you have no voice, Mr Sakyo." His hands continued to wander, then gave a slight push.

He toppled down from Karasu's lap and to the fetid floor like a rag doll, falling where he may and remaining there. "I don't love you, so I won't kill you, but I can keep you alive until you kill yourself." The purred words pushed at the edge of Sakyo's consciousness and though he tried to turn and look up at the demon, his body simply wouldn't obey him.

A grenade manifested itself by his head.

Karasu stood and spat at him, then left Sakyou to the deafening silence once more.

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