This is my Halloween fic, a day late due to the gross coagulation of schoolwork that's been thrown my way. Even now, I could be working on a paper that I have to have something to show for on Monday, but I'm being belligerent in approaching it and opted to do this first instead. It's also being posted a day later than it was completed due to all but two or three buildings on the campus I live at being turned off while some electrical stuff was being taken care of. One of those buildings house the routers, hence, while I live in one of the buildings that kept power yesterday, no Internet. But ah well, here we go now.
I got the idea to do this around the time of last Halloween, actually, while watching the short-lived YouTube series inspired by "Yu Yu Hakusho: The Abridged Series," "Tales from Elder Toguro" (he and the Crypt Keeper do share a similar laugh). But if you haven't heard of any of the things I just referred to, don't worry; they have absolutely nothing to do with the plot here.
There's the implication that that which follows could have taken place during the time in the Dark Tournament when Younger Toguro and Genkai were having Ultimate Lovers' Quarrel to the X-treme!!! But as this is basically a crack fic (as in we completely acknowledge that we're going way out there), time isn't the most crucial element.
Story: "21 Appendages"
Main Players: Elder Toguro and Sakyo
Main Played: Kurama
Warnings: Hedonism. For those unfamiliar with the term, in this context it shall be defined as the act of shameless high-living pleasure-seeking. Almost all the other warnings listed here shall in this story basically be derivatives of hedonism: sadism, nonconsensual sexual acts, and voyeurism; except for: explosions.
Have I been thorough? Let's proceed, then:
21 Appendages
November 1, 2008
It took a sophisticated sort of sadist to find the opportunity for boredom in such a setting as the Dark Tournament. Sakyo was such a one. Elder Toguro was another. But Sakyo could resign himself to getting by on more mundane pastimes such as the partaking of alcohol and call girls, and the disposing of the occasional body afterward. Toguro meanwhile had taken a more creative initiative.
No one was around this afternoon. Younger Toguro was still engaged, Sakyo assumed, in the affairs that had kept him away from the match earlier. Karasu and Bui had disappeared soon after their fights, and neither had rematerialized yet. He had an idea of what the detonator might be doing; but Bui's pastimes, much like Bui himself, were an enigma to him.
And then Elder Toguro appeared, and suggested that they take a break from the monotony and go back to his room. First thought being that he hadn't yet given any allocations for replenishing the "supplies" used up last night, the second thought he voiced: "However you inferred that I'd enjoy playing that role—"
"You bought; I caught," Toguro reassured, narrowing his eyes distastefully at the human's suspicion. Sakyo raised an eyebrow. In reply he walked out the door, and a moment later the businessman followed him. Now Sakyo noticed that this entire time Toguro's right arm hadn't been entirely present, trailing back to the Toguro brothers' room as it did. As they approached, the demon appeared to be reeling it in; Sakyo saw the wrist appear again, then the knuckles, only the fingers still cast out, fine lines connected, he assumed, to Toguro's "catch."
When said catch appeared, suspended in mid-air in the room, he betrayed a moment of surprise, and even began to ask, "How did you—?," before seeing the "how" himself. Blood dribbled from a hole behind each ankle, aimed so as not to do long-term damage, but still fall the target.
Unwinding his fingers, Toguro let the catch plunge face-first onto the bed. "We could ward him, but he's already weaker in this form, and even weaker from the damage he's taken recently." Obtaining the object of play hadn't been particularly hard. Even if his other form was prettier, he shouldn't be walking around looking the way he did without expecting to be bothered. Though perhaps he already had been; he'd seemed distracted by something even before Toguro took a stab at him, pun intended. Especially due to this, he'd been visibly vulnerable, so he should have taken better care if he didn't want to be ringed into a game.
Sakyo thought of the surprises Kurama had pulled in his previous fights, but decided that no ward would be necessary. Nonetheless, he was content to act as voyeur, while the practically indestructible Toguro worked the redhead. "Are you going to kill him?" he asked, though there was no real point to it, since Toguro could—would, usually—say one thing and then do whatever he wanted.
All he received as reply was a smugly cryptic "I haven't even started yet," soon remedied by a few fingers' extension, wrapping round Kurama's limbs and middle and lifting him back up, placing him almost literally in the palm of Toguro's hand. He stared intently at his captor through narrowed eyes, but while he held a rigid posture did not struggle against his holds.
Until Toguro pointed the first two fingers of his other hand, extended them, hid them under the hem of the humanized spirit fox's tunic.
As Kurama's eyes widened, so too did Sakyo's, though the prominent change was the electric flash that bolted across those blue eyes. The businessman sat down in the chair by the desk, more interested than he was a moment before.
Fabric tore, and Kurama flinched as a fingernail that was more claw made a subcutaneous slit in the skin over his left hip. Toguro smirked, moved his finger, smirked as more fabric tore. The cut he'd made was shallow, but bled adequately, bled onto his fingers, lubricated his fingers.
"A-AH!!" the redhead cried, squeezing his eyes shut and thrashing against his holds. The smaller demon laughed, and plunged Kurama onto the bed, tightening his hold while he pinned the other to the mattress. Kurama thrashed and made growling sounds, that might have been more threatening if they weren't laced with pained yelps.
Blue eyes lit up and green ones widened as Toguro's other fingers braided together, and lengthened to join the ones under the tunic. As Sakyo drew in a sharp breath, Kurama let out a sharper scream.
Toguro maintained the same grimacing grin while he violently fisted the Fox, and then something more gruesome crossed his face. Releasing his holds on Kurama's middle and limbs, he waited a moment while the other demon gasped and groaned, and slid his "braid" out from under the redhead's tunic. His eyes locked a moment or so with Kurama's, watering and wary, and then flashed over to Sakyo, and crinkled with a lewd smugness.
"NO!" Kurama half-snarled, half-shrieked as Toguro unbuttoned his pants.
Several plants shot in his direction. Toguro finished undoing his pants while he cut down most of the plants and easily twisted out of the remainder's aim, wondering, given his anatomy, why Kurama had decided to resist to violently now.
Egging his plaything on soon bored Toguro, so he opted to stop toying and get down to business. While he kicked off his shoes and hopped onto the bed, he flipped Kurama over and held him down via one finger stabbed through the meat between the thumb and index finger of each hand. The Fox growled at him and fidgeted, but wouldn't employ the force needed to tear free from Toguro's restraints. "Keep proving that you're not enjoying yourself," he laughed. "That little dance is only working against you!" Contemplatively he studied the focal point of the "little dance," and showing teeth grinned as an adequate device came to mind.
Kurama sucked in a hissing noise while Toguro's toes stabbed him one by one in the calves and thighs, as like a spider the smaller demon climbed on top of him; and wailed almost orgasmically (to Toguro and Sakyo, at least) while Toguro made full use of his capabilities during penetration. When he began to thrust Kurama turned down his face and muffled his cries in the sheets. "No you don't!" Toguro hissed gleefully, grabbing and ripping the Fox's hair back, forcing his head and his cries upward, delectably audible. His cries grew more and more ragged, until by the time the contortionist had slowed down they'd become whispery gasps. Each inhalation and exhalation made his ribcage expand and deflate dramatically. For a laugh Toguro jabbed a few fingers into his sides, and when he reacted with a sharp breath he only served to puncture himself further.
Satisfied, Toguro unhooked himself from the bleeding, gasping, trembling Fox; buttoned up his pants; and looked over at Sakyo. All this time the businessman had remained seated in the chair by the desk, and had adjusted his position only a little. The hands on either arm of the chair were tense and white-knuckled now, and he had crossed one leg over the other, though if he'd done this with concealment in mind it hadn't proven highly successful. Most prominent though was the shift in his eyes. The virtually omniscient cool in them had been replaced by a primal combustion.
Which dimmed only a little when he met Elder Toguro's smug gaze. "Any more, and he might not be able to fight," he said matter-of-factly enough, with only a little reluctance pervading his tone. "Some people would be disappointed."
"Some people would," Toguro echoed, amused.
By now Kurama had partly climbed off, partly fallen off the bed, and was stumbling toward the door, still bleeding a bit here and there, spilling the occasional drop of blood on the carpet.
Another spectator, who'd only recently come to sit in on the show, watched from just inside the door while Kurama left. His eyes gave Kurama's obviously wounded carriage and various bodily wounds a once-over, and focused on the redhead's face, where there was a scratch. They then shifted to the handiwork's craftsman—who still held a few strands of red hair in one hand—, and something had seeped in and frozen over the usually calm, even bored look in their gaze.
It was probably only because Sakyo was already in a bothered state that he flinched as visibly as he did when Toguro's bed suddenly exploded. A few pieces of splintery burning shrapnel landed by his feet, and he quickly stomped them out. "I believe you may have done something he took offense to," he said at last.
Toguro looked from the now vacant doorway, to the mess of smoking frame and mattress, to Sakyo, and shrugged. "Karasu sometimes puts himself too personally into the game," he said flatly, and dismissed it. So the detonator would just be more intent on fighting the Fox. He could have him; Toguro had already had his fun.
"He could keep a tighter rein on his passions," Sakyo agreed, eyeing the remains of the bed. He knew he was crooked, and because of that he could (ironically) be all the most honest: he was a hedonist and a sadist; and may have found a kindred spirit in Elder Toguro. There was a lot of potential in the likes of Karasu too, though the businessman felt that demon was made of something slightly different from him. "Nothing a little money won't fix," he continued, referring to the effects of Karasu's tantrum. Even that hadn't completely blown away the sensations from earlier; he was still hard.
While Toguro licked the blood off his fingers and smirked Sakyo's way, the human picked up the phone on the desk and called down to the front desk in the lobby. "I'm afraid we've made a bit of a mess in here," he said smoothly after giving the room number. "Could you send a spare maid or two up?"
There were less lively ways to pass the afternoon.