Destroyer

by bakuratrash

Instead of disappearing, Ryou's body is left behind after Mariku fries Bakura in their duel. However, the unsuspecting victim isn't who you would think it is. (A dom Ryou. Finally.)

[ Hey uhhhh this is an rp i did with my best bud :-) we r both gross so sorry abt this but I'm excited to post it here bc I haven't really posted anything with mean, scary Ryou? Somehow? In case you didn't know, I. love. Dominate Ryou :-) He is a spooky boy and he is gonna fuckin deck Mariku! Read this to find out how!

Also: I tried to go back to fix all the words in /between/ those slashes like that bc we did it on our phones and couldn't put words in italics LMAO so if u see a /word/ like that that I may have missed it's supposed to be italicized :-) ]

…

Destroyer

The fog spread, melted and bloomed over the dueling arena on top of the blimp like spilt milk. The raging, glorious climax of the duel between his weaker self, the equally weak and useless Spirit, and Mariku himself had proved to be quite a satisfying venture, but now it was time for the hulking creature to claim his prize. The Spirit surely would have disappeared, consumed like acid by the darkness and shadows and left to rot in agony while Mariku went about his flawless plan. Surprisingly, as the swirling clouds dissipated, there remained on the field a pale, motionless body, pathetic and acne-ridded. Mariku wrinkled his nose in disgust. So the disgusting physical form had been left behind, like a corpse. No matter. He could just as easily yank the Ring off Bakura's floppy, lifeless neck, and it would be more satiating to his ravenous appetite to see how limp and useless his opponent now was. He strode over in long, stomping steps until he towered over the prostrated figure and reached down with one bulky arm. Mariku grasped the sweaty collar of Bakura's shirt and pulled. He lifted the upper half up and admired the vacant expression and minor drooling that decorated the Spirit's face so perfectly, how the ring jingled and shone like it was ready to be taken by Mariku's controlling grip. His other hand, big and hard and curved into a claw, stroked the golden circle.

Before Ryou's mind could comprehend being brought, once again, into reality, Ryou tried to remember where he last was. It was hard to keep track, especially because his body had taken a huge blow a little while ago. Aha! That was it. He was at the Battle City Finals, his arm was bleeding and Ryou finally got some amount of rest (perhaps not a healthy amount, but it was better than nothing). His fingers twitched first, then the rest of his body tensed and his head picked itself up. When Ryou opened his eyes, he probably should have been startled, but at this point Ryou was used to waking up to strangers grabbing his shirt. Ryou's slender hand reached up from its slack position, his long, bony fingers gripping Mariku's wrist. He almost sighed, too. Why would anyone want to take this Ring? "Oh, hello," he said, his voice calm, collected, and almost smooth sounding. He smiled when he saw Mariku. Ryou didn't exactly know who he was, but looking at him made him chuckle a bit. "Ah... I wouldn't do that."

A smile stretched over Mariku's veined face, overly large and uncontrollable, and he clicked his teeth together in giddy excitement. So there was more to this game, more pain he could squeeze out of the poor soul inhabiting the body of his opponent before taking what was rightfully his and leaving the boy to die in the cold. Mariku was so much bigger, so much stronger and aware of his strengths than this pipsqueak that it almost wouldn't be fun to torment the latter. The man let his tongue casually flop out of his mouth as he surveyed the pallid face of Bakura's host. Blood oozed from a bandage tied loosely around the host's arm, and Mariku licked his lips at the thought of what a one sided situation this was. He leaned forward, rank breath stinking the air around them, eyes rolling all around before settling on the perfect victim before him. "Who the fuck are you, little boy," he sneered, not loosening his grip on the shirt collar or ring. "I hope you know who you're talking to so directly and threateningly."

Ryou had to restrain his need to roll his eyes. It seemed that everyone he came across lately wanted something from him, be it the ring or perhaps, in this particular case, a reaction. This man-Rather this creature before him was much bigger than himself, unlike the spirit of the Ring. Ryou certainly didn't mind a challenge. He stared back at Mariku, right into the man's excited eyes, and squeezed the strong wrist he still held, his grip firm. "I'm the owner of this artifact," Ryou said, his voice calm and showing no signs of fear. He glanced down at Mariku's hand, then back up to make eye contact with him again, an all too sweet smile pulling at the corners of Ryou's lips. "And I think it best for you to let go of my belongings. Nobody likes a rude awakening or a bad first impression and so far, you've given me both."

Mariku's eyes darted to the cold hand stroking his clamped fist and turned up his nose, the physical contact a nuisance. Fine. If this child wanted more of a performance, Mariku could certainly give it to him. He leered, veins wriggling and thumping like maggots in his face, eyes wide and bulging and tongue waggling wetly out of his noxious mouth. He kept eye contact with Ryou and licked pointedly down the boy's waxen arm, huffing humid breath onto the flesh. "Runt," Mariku said, slowly and purposefully, "You can't stand up to me if you tried. I won that delicious trophy fair and square." His arms tightened, flexing violently and shaking Ryou's body slightly as they did so. "It's mine now, my possession. So give it to me, before I get my hands around your weak little lungs and rip your anemic body in half."

Ryou practically shuddered, though he would never admit out loud that Mariku's offer was appealing. It would definitely take care of a few issues Ryou thought of off the top of his head, but of course, that would be stupid. Besides, Ryou thought he deserved better than to have his body ripped in have by this.. thing. No. Ryou didn't like being threatened by a disgusting, repulsive man. "Don't you think if you wanted this Ring so bad you would have taken it, already? Honestly, I'd give it to you if I hadn't already made a deal with the asshole inside of it." The hand Ryou kept around Mariku's wrist loosened, and he decided to feel along the man's skin. He could feel how tense the muscles were. It excited him. "So, I'm afraid I just can't do that for you." Ryou laughed, his eyes once again locking with Mariku's. They were big and brown, curious with a hint of excitement. "Guess you'll have to rip me in half! Would you prefer to do it from the waist or long ways from my legs?"

Mariku paused, face twitching thoughtfully as he examined the current situation. No way was his full hellishness unleashed at that moment in time, but the apathy and near pleasantness with which this boy handled Mariku's aggressions was more than slightly irritating. He could not understand why a seemingly normal human being would react like this. Mariku himself was an exception to normality, being a self-proclaimed freak of nature and proudly parading his lack of morality to the public, but he was a singularity. A beautiful, twisted outlier. "What are you, brat, suicidal?" He barked, knocking his big forehead against Ryou's and staring angrily into his vacant eyes. "Shut up. Just give me the ring and fuck off. You're useless to me." He let his tongue loll out again, panting, proding and licking his own cheek veins, and grabbed one of the spikes of the ring, watching it slide up his wrist as he handled it. "Would you give it to me if I slit my wrists or something, you pasty little freak?"

Ryou watched Mariku's tongue, finding himself somehow mesmerized by the appendage that seemed to have a mind of its own. Ryou was still listening and paying attention, though, and he switched his gaze back to Mariku's eyes. He was grateful he came closer. Now Ryou could study him better. "I'm flattered that you would do that for me. However, I'm quite disappointed you moved on from tearing me in half. How do you expect me to give up my cursed necklace to a liar with empty threats? I'm afraid you'll have to do better than that if you really want it. I might end up taking a better offer."

The towering, crooked man cocked his head and squinted, brows furrowing too much in a hyperbolic gesture of absurd exasperation. Did the former owner of this body cause this much trouble for the Spirit? He honestly hoped so, it served that snide greaseball right for teaming up with such a weakling like Malik. Mariku licked his lips, back and forth until they were shiny and sticky with spit. He had little to no idea how complex negotiations worked and no interest in diving into an argument he would have to wax poetic during in order to win. It bored him, tired him out like he was being drugged. Besides, this boy was already gaining control and Mariku did not like that one fucking bit. "Oh? You want to be hurt so badly?" He cooed, lifting Ryou up higher so that the latter's feet just barely touched the ground, so that his head hung backward and his stringy white hair dripping like wax down his back. With his other hand, Mariku scraped casually over Ryou's exposed stomach with the pointed end of the Rod, just enough for it to sting. "How about if I gut you right here, right now? A couple slices and your intestines would be flowing over my hands like jelly." Mariku hissed these words, teeth skittering over each other and nails clicking the golden circle of the head of the Rod. "It would be so easy. Although just giving me the damn ring would be easiest."

Ryou bit over his lip, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He couldn't help that his heart was beating faster, but certainly not out of fear. "It would be easy, wouldn't it?" Ryou licked over his lips, tracing his fingers over Mariku's hand and feeling over the tense muscles and tendons. "But it would end so, so quickly. Wouldn't you want to drag it out? Y-You don't strike me as someone that prefers the easy way out." Ryou was running out of breath, mostly from the way he was being dangled above the ground, but also because he was growing more excited. He wanted to see just how gross and merciless this creature could be. Ryou wanted to see if he really was something to be afraid of. So far, he wasn't. "I think it'd be a lot more fun if you stabbed me at the rib cage. Then, if you hit the right spot, I could be gasping for air and never getting any. Heh.. Of course, it's up to you, I guess. If you'd prefer the easy way, that's fine. Just know I'm not-" Ryou let out a shaky breath, a smile still etched on his face. "I'm not giving you my ring."

Mariku snapped his jaws and laughed, loud and hard, in Ryou's face. The fact that he was touching Mariku's thick, brown skin so languidly was off putting to say the least. And was the boy shivering so visibly from fear? But despite all this, Mariku was still enthralled and dangerously elated by the situation. Ryou's body shook like a paper leaf against Mariku's firm grip of the former's shirt collar and the feeling made the latter want to stick his hand in his pants and jack off. Regardless of whether this was some trick and Ryou was actually terrified, pissing his jeans and scared for his life—or something else, something other than fear, something Mariku couldn't comprehend with his current knowledge of human emotions—the tension was palpable and it made the man absolutely ravenous. "A lot more fun? You want fun, yeah? Enjoyment?" Mariku pinched and squeezed the boy's white stomach, prodding at the outlines of his organs, lifting Ryou up higher, letting his eyes leave the boy's starkly plain ones and focusing on the pulsing meat of his torso. He spun the rod in his fingers, gently kissing its head like it was his baby. The man picked a nice, unblemished spot on Ryou's abdomen, flung his arm back and drove the end of the rod into Ryou's stomach, right beneath the belly button. "Scream!" Mariku snarled, eyes widen and tongue flapping on the side of his wet mouth. "Feel the precious blood leave your body! I'm in control of you! Me! Now hand that fucking ring over!"

Ryou made a high pitched screech, his fingers digging into Mariku's hand. His head fell back then after the initial pain faded away, and Ryou's squeal of pain turned into a moan. He smiled, and his hands turned somewhat gentle on Mariku's again. "Do it again," he whispered at first, out of breath and even somewhat panting. It was all so exciting, so different from the empty threats he was used to hearing. Finally, someone who kept their word. Or at least, for now. Ryou could already tell he was starting to confuse Mariku, and didn't expect him to get far enough to kill him. "Again!" He shouted, much louder than his previous whisper, picking his head back up to look down at the blood. "Heh.. Y-You're very good at that, aren't you."

A genuine bewildered look crossed Mariku's face and a glob of spit dripped from his mouth, which had opened in perplexity. This was wrong, and not the chaotic, terror-inducing wrongness that Mariku owned and excelled at. It was fundamentally incorrect, inappropriate for a normal human being to react this way. He chewed his cheek and laughed again, not understanding how to react himself to Ryou's less-than-satisfactory behaviour. It made Mariku's body wrinkle and tense in ways he could not adequately process. "Again? You want—" he laughed again, brain struggling to keep up. "Fucking fine. You must be in shock, little piglet. I can give you something to scream about." He tongued the bloody end of the rod, face twisting wildly with the intensity of the copper flavour. He expertly twirled the rod above his head and brought it down straight through Ryou's cheek, down through his jaw. Mariku grunted, wanting more damage, more gore, more humanity ripped from the boy's body. Ryou's face shredded apart on one side, flesh snapping apart and blood splattering gloriously in every direction. "How about now," Mariku rasped, "do you feel it now?! Wail! Fucking sob for me, you cretin!"

Ryou shut his eyes, once again tensing and reacting to the pain, then his body enjoyed it. Ryou even felt himself getting aroused to the point where he wanted touch himself. And the way Mariku was holding him, dangling him above the ground so effortlessly, and the way the blood from his abdomen dropped down below his hips, and now his face. The blood was hot as it dripped down his neck. It was all like a fantasy that Ryou only could have dreamed of. It was almost perfect. But it would have to come to an end. Ryou wasn't going to let this beast get the best of him. He moaned again, opening up his eyes and looking right into Mariku's just as intensely as he'd done before. "I sure do feel something!" He laughed, a soft, delighted one. "Y-You're hitting all the right spots, you know that?" Ryou lifted his left hand, a bit, showing the ugly, webbed scar on both sides of his hand. "Think you can stab here next? It tingles when you do." Other than the fact that Ryou had reacted to the pain in the first moment it happened, and the blood and skin dripping and peeled away from its place, it was hard to tell anything had even happened to him. Ryou's eyes were wide with excitement, and he genuinely wanted more.

Mariku promptly dropped, almost slammed down the body he was holding and reeled back, face contorting in rage and aversion. What a disgusting, inhuman mess this feeble creep was! It made Mariku's skin crawl like there were cockroaches in his flesh, and not many things could elicit such a reaction. Shivers wriggled up his veined arms and he felt himself sweating as he would during a particularly acute show of his strength. He shoved the ball of the rod, which was sticky with blood, up against the ragged remains of Ryou's cheek. The metal clinked against Ryou's wet, exposed teeth. "What the fuck is up with you!" Mariku roared, veins popping and eyes stretched too wide. "You're—you're fucking with me. Stop it. It's disgusting." He snapped his jaws, snarling and making animalistic sounds. It was all he could do at this point to try and intimidate this freak of nature. "You're bleeding out! You're injured! Why don't you fucking cry?!"

Ryou sat on his knees, looking up at Mariku. "Don't you like this?" He asked, pushing to rod away so he could start moving from his knees and on to his feet. He felt an adrenaline rush, one that allowed him to not even feel the pain in his stomach or his face. He was just too excited. Too eager for more. When he stood, he was still much smaller than Mariku, but surely a startling sight. Ryou probably looked like a corpse with his red blood clashing with the white of his skin and hair. Undead, as though nothing could stop him. "Why would I cry if it feels good? I /love/ it. I /crave/ it. I haven't felt this excited about anything." Ryou dipped his fingers into his pants, soaking them in his own blood on the way down from the hold in his stomach. The blood was a mix of cold and hot against his hard-on. Ryou moaned again. "J-Just a little more." He looked up at Mariku, licking over his bloody lips. "Well? Aren't you going to continue? Or maybe.." Ryou let out a shaky breath, pulling his hand out of his pants and shaking the blood off. He stepped closer to Mariku. "Maybe we can make it even more exciting!"

The monstrous man would not yet step back from the sight before him, as Ryou was so much smaller and frailer than Mariku was, but Ryou's powerful presence ravaged the former's psyche. It was foul to watch this messy display. It was fundamentally erroneous for an individual to embrace blood and gore so romantically and Mariku's face distorted with repugnance he would have expected from the person facing him. "What...do you—you're not making any fucking sense," he muttered, chewing his dirty nails and stressfully tugging his tongue in and out of his mouth with his finger and thumb. "Fuck off. I'm not—I don't want to waste my time with someone like you." He leered, showing teeth and gums and wide eyes. "Leave me alone!" He barked, watching Ryou's milky eyes, his flushed cheeks, the tent rising in his bloody jeans. Mariku did not understand, could not understand. This...jubilation, this enjoyment of the worst kind was his and his only. Why a fragile soul like Ryou would be so enthralled by such taboo reverie was beyond him. "What the fuck do you want?!"

Ryou grinned then, feeling his flesh twist and pull as doing so only made the wound worse. He then laughed. Closed his eyes, tossed his head back and laughed. "Why, I thought you'd never ask!" Ryou tilted his head when he composed himself, his fingers twitching. "Since you've asked, I'll share. I want you. I want everything you have to offer me! Be it torture, that disgusting tongue you tease me with, or.." Ryou bit over his lip, pushing his hair back and leaving a messy stain of red. "You can sit down." Ryou grinned and pointed to the ground beneath them. "It's your choice. What are you offering?"

Mariku's strained eyes darted from the boy's alabaster face to the space on the floor that he was pointing so innocently to. It boggled Mariku's mind to be spoken to like this, to be treated almost like a feral dog by a dainty yet vice-like controlling owner. I want you, Ryou said. I want everything you have. The man tangled his fingers in his matted hair, yanking and twirling the strands feverishly to try and calm his rising anxiety. What an interesting feeling it was, to be so apprehensive, to be fretful, and also what an unwanted sensation it became. The sweat on Mariku's neck was cold and clammy and it trickled down his back in slow, snake-like increments. Soft, wheezing pants left his mouth as he continued to chew on the nails of his hand not occupied with tangling and detangling his dirty blonde mane. "I'm not offering shit. Leave me alone," he growled, standing up higher, trying to tower over Ryou, trying to make him disappear with just Mariku's giant body. "Get out of here. I'm—I'm fucking done with your games, whatever you're playing at. Stop it. It's not funny at all."

Ryou pouted, continuing to walk closer to Mariku until they were just a few inches apart. "Oh, you think I'm joking? That I'm playing a game with you?" Ryou chuckled, reaching his hands out and touching Mariku's chest, letting his fingers roam all over. He could feel the power beneath the skin, and it made Ryou that much more confident. He was stepping right on top of this beast, and it felt great. "I'm not. It's what I really want." Ryou's hands slowly trailed lower on Mariku's body, his thumbs massaging the man's hips. "I always get what I want. Did you know that?"

The impact of Ryou's wet, sticky hands on Mariku's body were enough to legitimately bring bile up the man's throat and his stomach lurched with the effort not to be sick directly onto Ryou's sodden shirt. He was already breathing hard with he effort to calm his mind and his chest rose and felt, pressing against Ryou's red palms. It was absurd, hilarious, even, to be manhandled and fondled so intimately and sweetly by someone whose cheek flesh was hanging off and whose abdomen had a gaping crimson hole in it. Mariku felt frozen, not, he told himself, necessarily by fear, but rather by shock and a complete lack of control over the way the conversation was going. "You're...you're not..." Had he seriously forgotten his manner of speaking? His wonderfully chilling, vividly graphic monologues were far away in the back of his brain. Ryou's roaming hands distracted, confused and electrified his nerves. "Ha. No. I'm the only one who always gets what he wants." Mariku, summoning up his frightening sneer, leaned forward, close to Ryou. If the boy wanted so badly to be abused, to be mistreated, then he could certainly cater to that. Maybe it would stop the freak from coming any closer, from taking advantage of Mariku any more than he already was, which almost, almost scared the former. Mariku swiped his long tongue across his teeth, reminding himself how sharp they were, how lethal. Then he cocked his head down, took hold of an edge of Ryou's frayed cheek and ripped upward as hard as he could. Blood spurted over them both as a piece of the boy came clean off in Mariku's mouth. He stared down at Ryou, eyes pinpricks, and swallowed.

That time, though he was surprised, Ryou didn't react to the pain. Every passing second that Mariku got closer, Ryou found himself leaning in. It delighted him when Mariku took it upon himself to /eat/ Ryou's own flesh. In fact, it delighted Ryou so much, he pressed himself up against Mariku. "Fuck. I do hope you're not just going to be teasing me.." Ryou murmured, pressing his hips into Mariku and looking up at him. He still grinned, even with half his face missing. "I must thank you for giving me exactly what I wanted. I love it." Ryou held Mariku's hips again, massaging them like before. "I'd love it even better if you gave me something more."

Consuming Ryou's tattered, bloody cheek flesh was already nearing Mariku's limit. Not because it was something morally wrong, but because the foul taste of flesh petrified his throat. Vomit rose in his esophagus and he swallowed repeatedly, not wanting to surrender to such a weak action like puking right in front of Ryou. Keeping the meat down was costing more energy than Mariku cared to admit, which meant he couldn't stop Ryou from touching, fondling, squeezing at his twitching sides like the boy was going to make love to him. He even felt a hard object rubbing against his v line. The coupled simulations dredged up disgusting sensations in Mariku's gnarled brain and he gagged, more repulsed by his body's reaction than the foreign body now travelling to his gut. "Fuck—you're—" Words were failing him and he lifted his hands protectively to his chest. "Revolting. You're wrong. I don't—I don't fucking like you." Sweat trickled over his neck. "Just tell me—what you fucking want, and I'll—" Ryou's hands were turning his mind to melted butter. "Why don't you just leave me alone?!"

Ryou laughed, his fingers squeezing Mariku's hips. He could feel Mariku's pulse, the quick, nervous beats of his heart. Ryou loved it. Just as much as he loved the pain Mariku inflicted on him. "Because I want you," he said, as if the answer were obvious. "I want more from you. I'm nowhere near done with you.. You're so.." He bit over his lip, shamelessly rolling his hips into Mariku's and moaning softly. "You're so fucking warm. And you're so very good at pleasing me. Haven't you noticed? You got me all the way here. I should be thanking you, shouldn't I?"

If Mariku felt he was able to take a step back—or several—he would have. But the power emanating from Ryou's tiny, bloodsoaked body was desecrating Mariku's wild brain with reckless abandon. It almost hurt to be treated with the same giddy indifference that he himself often used to intimidate potential victims. Whatever Mariku did, this freakish bloodlusting misfit would only grind on him more heatedly. There must be a way, thought Mariku, nearing desperation, to quell this masochistic anomaly. As Ryou massaged and felt up the the man's huge toned body, a horrible, vile concept dragged itself from the part of Mariku's intellect associated with dissecting human interaction and behaviour. Ryou wanted satisfaction, to be satiated, to have release. Mariku knew vaguely how to go about accomplishing this, and though he would receive less than no benefit from his actions, the man detached himself from Ryou's grasp and stepped back before slowly and unsurely dropping to his knees, his weight thudding heavily on the deck of the blimp. He was following patterns he had only seen through Malik's eyes, and he hoped that it would placate the nutcase who would not stop moaning and feeling Mariku up regardless of the pain brought upon him. The former looked up through shaggy, sweaty bangs, searching for any sign of direction he was supposed to go in. This has to be quick and easy. It has to be.

Ryou was pleasantly surprised that Mariku voluntarily put himself in a position lower than Ryou. The hands that were once feeling along Mariku's body were now inviting themselves into the man's hair. Ryou found he liked how messy it was and how easy it was to grab. "How kind of you to volunteer yourself," he murmured, staring back at Mariku and even tilting his head back a bit. Ryou could see Malik in Mariku's eyes, which delighted him even more. If this was Malik's body, then Ryou would be taking over both parties. It was just an added bonus. "You look very pretty down there. I want to feel that disgusting long tongue of yours.." Ryou bit over his lip, using one hand to point to the bleeding hole in his stomach and grinned eagerly. "Stick it in there. Don't be shy. I promise you won't hurt me."

There was nothing about this that affected Mariku morally. He would most certainly stick his dick in a rotting corpse if he felt up to it. Even looking at the spasming, blood-belching hole in Ryou's stomach caused a fire in his head and in Malik's stupid tight boxers. It was the frenetic, insatiable lust that oozed from every particle of Ryou's being at the prospect of being tongue fucked in his gaping wound. The boy was almost drooling, dragging and tugging at Mariku's matted hair and panting heavily. To a normally functioning human being it would have been utterly terrifying and horrific. Mariku excluded himself from the functioning category without doubts, but this entire situation was still so off-putting, so mind boggling, so foul. He semi-lurched forward, tentative at his monumental task. Ryou's gash flexed and bubbled with blood and plasma, dark and foreboding like a cave. Mariku half expected spiders to start crawling from the depths of the wound. Sticking his tongue down there would definitely tease his gag reflex, he knew it, and he cursed Malik's weak throat. "Do I—do I have...to...?"

Hearing Mariku's question caused Ryou to chuckle. It was a lighthearted thing, something that shouldn't come out of a bleeding boy asking for his wound to be penetrated by a tongue. Ryou cupped Mariku's face gently, tilting it in the slightest. "Of course you do," he said in a soft and gentle tone. "You have no other options. This is what I want from you. So, yes. You have to do it."

Ryou's hands were freezing. Frozen. Like dry ice. They burned Mariku's hot face. It was like the boy was a walking cadaver, held aloft only by necrophilic will. Mariku's body swam with cold shakes and he bunched his hands into fists, tightening his torso and arms to stop the tremors. It was, truly, the first time he had ever felt the need to go on the defensive to such an extreme. Not even during his duel with the Spirit had Mariku experienced such a severe reaction in every element of his being. It only caused his nausea to increase, which was not exactly beneficial to the circumstances. There was nothing to do but act before his flesh failed him. Mariku turned his attention to the throbbing red void in Ryou's stomach and dubiously opened his mouth. The long tongue dangled over his lips, wriggling and damp. He almost wanted to close his eyes but could not look away as the organ pressed, first hesitantly and then more quickly into the slit of Ryou's wound. The walls were sopping wet and stung Mariku's tongue with the acrid smell of iron. "Ah...uh...huh..." He breathed, blood dribbling into his open mouth. He moved against Ryou's stomach, face squashed against the shaking skin, tongue as far as it could go inside the boy.

Ryou's hands gripped Mariku's hair, pulling on it as he leaned forward, trying to get Mariku's tongue to go inside him further. "Hah... Y-Yeah. Yes. Very good." Ryou rocked his body back and forth to get the most out of it, thoroughly enjoying the way Mariku's tongue would sometimes twitch or curl upward. It made Ryou that much more aroused, and soon he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled Mariku's head away from his body and held it firm between his hands. Ryou smeared the blood on Mariku's lips around his face with his thumbs. "You, my ugly creature, are going to finish what you started." Ryou let go of Mariku momentarily to in button his pants and take out the source of his torment. Ryou stroked himself, smearing his own blood on his dick and moaning as he did. Reaching out with one hand, Ryou pulled Mariku's head closer by the hair and was much more firm this time. "Use your mouth," he said, giving the man's hair a tug. "And yes, you have to."

Mariku's body tensed and shivers ran like snakes through his veins. The power coursing through Ryou's every particle of existence suffocated and stymied Mariku like a hand pressing down on a struggling rodent. The blood, crimson, the colour of wine, created a stark contrast between that and Ryou's ivory flesh. Mariku salivated. This was everything he revelled in, a cornucopia of sexual gore and general depravity, a zenith of perfect unholiness. What infuriated and unravelled him was the fact that he was the one cowering on his knees, looking up at the flushed features of a bona fide haematophile that was jerking globules of blood and precum into his face. And now he was forcing him to put that same exsanguinated organ down his throat. Mariku had no idea how to go about this endeavour. Submissive activity was not something he gave much thought, and sexual submission was even less important. But even so...Mariku's brain swam and contorted. It smelled so good, all of it, like sweat and blood and insides exposed to the outside. He wanted to explore the sensations offered to him, partly because he didn't have a choice, and partly because the circumstances were making his body cry out for something more. A quick glance above him, checking for any sort of second wind, before Mariku opened his wide mouth and swallowed Ryou completely, down to the base, letting him sit over Mariku's lengthy and constantly wiggling, spasming tongue.

Ryou hissed through clenched teeth, his fingers pulling and tugging at Mariku's hair and his body leaning forward slightly. "Oh, fuck.." Ryou panted, growing excited and thoroughly enjoying not only Mariku's huge, hot mouth and his unnaturally long, twitching tongue, but also the fact that this huge fucking beast was on his knees and Ryou was telling it what to do. Ryou was reveling in the power that he managed to gather, and it felt so good to finally be on top after allowing himself to be suppressed in his mind for so long. Too long, it seemed. Ryou readjusted his hands in Mariku's hair and started to move the man's head back and forth, his own eyes staring down at the work being done. "Hah.. Your tongue," he said, his own nearly hanging out of his mouth at this point. "Use your tongue. Show me a trick," he hummed, chuckling slightly between his quickened breaths.

Mariku groaned, sweat trickling down his forehead and bloody spit splashing out of his open mouth. Ryou was not big, although it wasn't exactly fair to compare himself and the boy. Mariku was monstrous—he had checked, multiple times, endlessly confused and excited by his own bodily functions. He had even been able to touch the tip of his tongue on the head of his own dick. Having another person's sexual organ thrusting maniacally down his throat almost made him laugh out loud at the discomfort it created; he had done similar things in the past to himself. He snarled and snorted at the sudden pressure of Ryou's quickened movements, but the boy's order had been clear. Mariku breathed in through his nose and curled his tongue over, twisted and coiled it like a spring, made it spasm and twitch and flutter over the head and sides of Ryou's cock. The man hissed and grabbed at Ryou's thighs, claws clamping down into the flesh and yanking the skin away.

Ryou's head flew back and he cried out, his moan mixing with pleasured laughs. His fingers twisted and tangled themselves in Mariku's hair, his legs beginning to feel wobbly. "Fuck! Fuck! Yuh-You're so-" Ryou cut himself off as he groaned, Mariku's tongue and fucking fingernails driving Ryou absolutely crazy. "Mariku you-Hng... I-I want-Bite! Fucking bite me!" Ryou looked down at Mariku again, his eyes wide with adrenaline and an eager grin plastered on his shredder face. "Sink your stupid fucking teeth right into me. Do it!"

A warbling, pathetic moan crawled from Mariku's bloody, spitty mouth, his eyes fixed unmovingly on Ryou's equally frenzied yet so vacant ones. "Fuck," the creature ground out, pulling off and pressing his cheek against Ryou's twitching stomach, watching the latter's dick jerk and leak over the layer of blood still coating it. It was erotic, horrific, and Mariku's mind was swimming and howling with reactions and chemicals it could never hope to understand. He was moved as if by puppetry by Ryou's every breath, his every motion. Every word that was ripped from the boy's lips in such a bloodlust laden crescendo was a bolt through Mariku's bulging veins. He had slid down Ryou's leg until he was leaning against him, legs spread out on the deck. He reached up, almost climbing the boy's side, opened his jaws, and bit directly into Ryou's exposed rod wound, shoving his tongue inside the hole.

Ryou practically howled with glee, literally laughing in place of what should have been a shriek of agony. Mariku was rather good at that, but now he was getting too much control to Ryou's liking. He allowed Mariku's teeth to sink into his skin, feeling the sensation of Mariku's tongue, just for a little longer. Abruptly, Ryou controlled his breaths. He stopped moaning and his grip on Mariku's hair was threatening enough to the point where Ryou could pull off pieces of Mariku's scalp if he wanted to. With his other hand, Ryou grabbed Mariku's nose between his thumb and index finger, squeezing the cartilage as hard as he could. It was as though he wasn't just drooling and panting and very, very closely nearing his climax. Ryou liked to make himself wait. But he would love making Mariku wait even more. "Let go," he said, his tone firm and clear. "Let go and sit down."

Mariku let out a grunt that was more high-pitched than he would have liked at the feeling of his nose being pinched so hard. He did not want to let go, did not want to remove his tongue from the red, warm, wet walls of Ryou's innards. It gave his body too much adrenaline; wild, thrusting bolts of energy ricocheted through his veins and made his eyes bulge. His large hands wrapped around Ryou's thighs and held the flesh like he was about to yank the boy's legs out of their sockets. The taste of blood, sweat, and dick ravaged Mariku's incomplex brain and he wanted to throw a fucking tantrum, wanted to scream and claw at Ryou until he shut up and let Mariku feverishly finish what he had so reluctantly started. "No!" He snarled, irises shaking with lack of control and mouth twisted in an animalistic growl, blood and spit covering his teeth, his cheeks. "No! Mine! All mine!"

Ryou made a scoff of disgust, though he had expected Mariku to react this way. He let go of Mariku's hair and used that hand to shove it into the beast's mouth. Ryou forced in his entire fist, stretching Mariku's jaw, and let his middle finger rest on the back of Mariku's tongue. "Let go," Ryou said again, his other hand still pinching Mariku's nose. "Let go and sit down, or you'll end up hurting yourself. You disgusting vile creature. You're lucky I've allowed you this much. Now let go."

Amidst the haze of arousal, anger and vulnerability that clouded Mariku's head, he wondered vaguely how humiliating he must currently looked. Hands groping Ryou's sides, body pressed almost flat against Ryou's leg like a humping dog, his own legs splayed out beneath him and his sopping mouth stretched open in an exaggerated expression of rage. His nose wrinkled and his red teeth flashed below gums that were stained with purple and pink bruising. Ryou's finger tasted bad, unwashed and bitter like sewage. Mariku twirled his snaking tongue around it, eyes low and throat gurgling angrily. He breathed harshly through his nose and slowly took his nails out of the boy, kneeling back on his heels and exhaling in a rumbling moan towards Ryou. He kept his eyes to the ground.

Ryou held Mariku there in that position for a moment until he was sure that Mariku was calmer than before. Ryou took his hand out of the hot, gaping cavern that was Mariku's mouth, and rubbed the saliva on Mariku's face. "Good boy," he said, holding Mariku by the face and squeezing his cheeks before he would let go of the other's nose. "Do you need me, Mariku?" Ryou then asked, holding the man's face between both of his hands now, touching and prodding as if he were examining it. "Of course you do. You can't possibly function without me. I am not yours, you are mine." Ryou chuckled, tilting Mariku's head to make eye contact with him. "I understand, though. Once you taste me, you can't get enough. It's easy to get confused. Do you want more of me, Mariku? Do you want my disgusting, blood soaked dick shoved deep, deep down your pathetic throat?"

The man was drooling, panting, wheezing like a wild creature caught in a bear trap. It was repulsive, vile, humiliating to be in this position and to be experiencing this level of desperation, especially with someone like Ryou, who Mariku thought was such a pushover. It was almost funny how virtuous and meek the former seemed to an outside eye, now that Mariku knew the true extent of his depraved, immoral personality. The boy had some sort of chaotic god complex coupled with a sadomasochistic apathy like Mariku had only ever seen in himself. What made it so much more frightening was the contrast between the external and internal, and how effective Ryou was at maintaining a normal, functioning psyche around everyone else. Mariku's large hands shook and his heartbeat was erratic, stuttering and jumping with adrenaline. His wriggling tongue lapped insatiably at Ryou's coddling hands, at his wrists, feeling the pulse throb through his mouth. Mariku wanted to scream. "Yes!" He barked, almost shouted, face rubbing feverishly against Ryou's arms. "I do! I need it! I need it! I'll die if I don't get it! Please! Please!"

Ryou laughed at the scene, taking in the feeling of power and swallowing Mariku's begs and pleads. "You are just too cute!" He said, scratching and massaging below Mariku's ears and on his neck as if he were a dog. Ryou thought of him as one, so it seemed fitting. "But I'm not really convinced that you want it. I almost feel like finishing the job myself. You just didn't put enough effort into it, and that disappoints me." Ryou tilted his head to the side, once again keeping his hands still and holding Mariku's head to ask him another question. "If I do allow your unworthy mouth near me, what would you do different? Because I can't be satisfied if you give me another shitty performance. I might never come back if you do."

Mariku wanted to cry, wanted to lie down and throw a fucking tantrum. He had never, not ever in his existence and experience of the world, been denied so forcibly and so casually. It infuriated him so violently that he felt nauseated. Shaky tears welled in his eyes and he howled, shaking his shaggy head and spitting drool everywhere. "Give it to me!" He screamed, tugging at his head. Tangled strands of hair came away in his fingers. "I want it! I want you! More than anything in the fucking world! I'll make you feel ruh-really fucking good, I p-promise!" Snot and tears mingled on his face in a messy, chaotic mix and he stuck his tongue out so it dangled and swayed as he cried. "I d-d-don't want you to leave! I'll be so guh-good for you!" He pointed to his open mouth like a child demanding food. "Please! Put it down m-my throat! Muh-make me puke! Make me fuh-fuh-feel it in my st-stomach!"

Ryou smiled almost fondly at Mariku, his hands sliding up Mariku's face and his fingers once again familiarizing themselves with the long, blond mane of hair. "I love it when you sound like that," he said, pulling Mariku's face close to his dick once again. Ryou licked over his bottom lip and looked down at Mariku, his white hair falling over his shoulders. "I'll grant your wish." That said, Ryou took it upon himself to once again fill Mariku's mouth and throat, sighing shakily from the heat and sensitivity from stopping before. "Give me your best, Mariku. Prove you're not just a waste of fucking time, eh?"

Mariku plunged forward like a starving animal, licking and sucking and making all kinds of uncontrolled noises of relief and satiation. He shoved his face sloppily against Ryou's hips, swallowing the boy to the base and making his throat convulse and squeeze around the white shaft. He twisted and gyrated his lizard-like tongue around Ryou's cockhead, moaning and whimpering loudly at the sheer joy of having this godlike organ choking his esophagus. Mariku's shaking hands massaged Ryou's thighs, raking his nails down the flesh and pinching the shredded skin that already existed there from the previous interaction. He wanted Ryou to come, wanted the weird, hot gel to shoot down his throat and out of his mouth and cover his face in the sticky stuff. "Mmg...puh-please," he choked, voice muffled and distorted. "Ryou, Ryou, Ryou, c'mon, give id tuh me! Now, now, now!"

Ryou had to shut his eyes, for Mariku's eagerness was almost overwhelming. Almost. Ryou panted and twitched, his fingers pulling and scratching at Mariku's scalp. When he finally came, Ryou clenched his teeth as his entire body tensed, his hips thrusting forward into Mariku's mouth and his head falling backwards. "Fuck," he groaned, making it a point not to scream or shout or even groan too loud. Mariku didn't deserve that, and Ryou thought of himself as better than that. After a moment of catching his breath, Ryou shoved Mariku's head away and pulled up his pants, ignoring the sticky stains of blood as he redid his fly. "I suppose that wasn't too bad," he said, purposely not making eye contact with Mariku. "But I have other things to do now. You've wasted enough of my time already."

"Wait—what—I—" The rock hard length that hurt whenever it rubbed against his tight khakis was what made Mariku grab hold of Ryou's arm, still stretched out on the ground and shaking wildly. He had swallowed everything the boy gave him, feeling it slick and gooey in his throat and around his mouth. That in itself was wonderful, a blessing from the gods that such a controlling and lifesaving individual would give him such a treat, but Mariku could not possibly just go back to his room. He barely knew how to jerk off, and at any rate, nothing basic and vanilla would do him any good right now. He needed overwhelming stimulation by one person and one person only, and that person was avoiding his gaze, turning to leave without a second glance. "You can't just—you wouldn't—" Mariku's voice sounded stupid and warbling, cracking and wavering like a mutt when its owner left the room, and his face flushed with the shame of hearing that kind of voice leave his swollen, bloody lips. He dragged his groin over Ryou's leg, humping and thrusting, making sure the boy could feel the solidness of his cock. "Don't. Leave me. Like. This. Please."

Ryou yanked his arm away and stared at Mariku in disgust. He snorted before he laughed, it sounding harsh and accusing. "You're a greedy little shit, aren't you?" Ryou shoved and kicked Mariku away, looking at him with a smirk, a mocking expression. "You're not seriously telling me you want more. Aren't I enough for you? Don't you think I've already seen enough of your dirty, disgusting face? But yet, you have the audacity to ask me for more?" Ryou scoffed and crossed his arms. "What did you have in mind? Surely you're not expecting me to-to-" Ryou laughed, his hands holding the hole in his stomach as blood squirted out. "To return the favor? I should punish you for even thinking I would do such a thing!"

Ryou's casual laughter, the sweet, cutesy cruelty that oozed out of the boy like sugary flowing honey was almost more than Mariku could bear without his mind breaking open. The parallels between this behaviour and his own usual malice were so similar that it hurt Mariku that much more. Ryou was cracking him open like a rotten egg, crushing down this giant, terrifying man into a shivering, whimpering mess. He was sitting doggedly on his ass, hands barely supporting his seemingly exhaustingly heavy figure, staring up into the angelic face of the most abusive, self centered and maniacal person he had ever encountered, besides when he looked in the mirror and could recognise his reflection. It was almost laughably predictable that the individual who would end up dominating Mariku so fully was so identical to himself. "No, not—I would never ask for—" he tried to backpedal quickly, as he could see Ryou was cornering him. "Please—you can't just—I'll die, I'll die, my body can't—can't—" Tears were squeezing out of his eyes again, foul, burning globs of humiliation and desperation. "Give muh-muh-me something! I'm—I cuh-can't do anything w-w-without you, without y-your tuh-tuh-touch!"

Ryou raised a brow, amused by Mariku's thought process. "You want my touch. You want me to touch you?" Ryou laughed again and snorted at the end. "You're so precious! Oh, Mariku, I could just eat you up!" He approached Mariku then, his head tilting to the side as he examined the pathetic sight before him. "You want something more? Fine. I'll humor you since I'm feeling generous." Ryou stuck his foot between Mariku's legs and stepped right on his crotch, right on the hard cock that Mariku so desperately wanted him to be aware of. Ryou leaned forward. "How's this? Is this enough for you?"

Mariku whipped his head back, his nails scrabbling across the deck and his tongue hanging completely out of his mouth. It felt so good, so so so fucking good. His mind spun, screamed and writhed simultaneously. It was everything he ever wanted, and would never be enough to satisfy him fully, and that aspect made it that much more erotic. Mariku shook his head back and forth, bucking ferociously against Ryou's crushing foot even as the man flattened his back against the ground, his hips fucking the air and his hair splayed out like sand on the floor. "Ah—ah—oh, fuck—!" he groaned and whined, large hands touching his sticky face, groping his own chest and arms and mouth to make up for the lack of contact he wanted so hysterically badly. "Fuck, shit—fuck, fuck, fuck! I'm coming! God! I'm—" he choked, tongue too large and too wet for his mouth, and came, hard, still encased in his jeans, the semen spurting out under his belt and onto his belly.

Mariku's quick release only served to empower Ryou's ego, and he took his foot away from the ugly, disgusting mess laid out before him. "There. You're welcome, by the way. If we ever cross paths again, don't expect me to do that a second time." Ryou poked his wounds, his thighs, his stomach, and his face, sighing. "You left me with some busy work. Oh well." Ryou looked down at Mariku once more before he scoffed and rolled his eyes, turning around to take his leave. "I normally hate when the spirit leaves me to do a job he couldn't, but I think this was an exception. Heh.." The boy glanced over his shoulder at Mariku, smirking. "I got a new pet out of it after all, didn't I?"

[Thanks! If you have time listen to 'Destroyer' by Saint Motel bc its Ryou in this rp :) Please review so both me and my friend feel valid for being gross!]