He's toxic, babe. Dump his ass.

DYSFUNCTIONAL

Fluff's boring. Overdone. Forget that, let's play ships that affect everyone involved for the worse, not better.

How to Play
- Comment with your character's name, canon, info, and any preferences you find relevant.
- Reply to others.
- Respect boundaries, even when the internet barbies aren't.

01. YOU WOULDN'T WANT ME TO HAVE TO HURT YOU TOO... The object of your love/lust is resisting your advances, so it's time to take what you want.
02. JEALOUSY. It's jealousy to the extreme. You're going to make damn sure your lover knows how you feel about them seeing other people.
03. INCEST IS BEST. You know it's wrong, all kinds of sinful, but you can't resist the draw. If characters aren't related, then they are now! Or at least it feels very close to incest anyway.
04. YOU'RE NEVER GONNA GET FAR. You love that person so much, you've made sure they can't get away - by physically tying them down or by some other emotional or mental means.
05. I'LL MAKE YOU HURT. You've set it up to make sure your lover catches you cheating or doing something else hurtful just for that reason. You want to make them suffer.
06. CHAINS AND WHIPS EXCITE ME. You're both taking sex to extremes.
07. BROKEN. Your lover has utterly broken you and you need them to know.
08. SECRECY. You're embarrassed by your lover, utterly embarrassed. If they weren't useful in some way (even if it's just in bed!), you wouldn't even be with them.
09. YOU'RE MY LAST CHOICE. You don't really love the person you're with, but they're all you could snatch up and it's no secret to either of you.
10. FORCED TOGETHER. You don' love each other, but you have no choice but to be together due to outside influences. Alternatively, you've been captured and are now being forced to make a sex video even if you don't want to.
11. WATCH HOW I DO IT. You were just forced to watch your lover have sex with someone else (willingly or not) or beaten and now you've got to deal with the aftermath.
12. IF YOU ONLY KNEW. You're not who your lover thinks or you've got a lot of deep dark secrets that, if they only knew, they'd hate you forever.
13. NOT WHO I WAS. Maybe your lover was replaced with a pod person or they're under brainwash or something, but you know they're not who they were.
14. LOVE POTION XXX. You couldn't resist it anymore. You needed your lover, so you've drugged them into loving and wanting you too.
15. THREATS. This person isn't with you willingly. They're only putting up with you because you've threatened them into doing so.
16. FOR YOUR ENTERTAINMENT.
17. NOT GOING TO SAVE YOU. Your lover is on the brink and you're just going to watch them fall. You don't care anymore.
18. HATE YOU. You need your lover to know how exactly much you hate them. You can't even touch them without your skin crawling.
19. BETRAYAL. You've betrayed your lover in some huge way and you don't care that they've found out.
20.YOUR CHOICE. choose or combine any of the choices on here or make up your own!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[I mean...]

[None of this sordid ordeal would be occurring if the fox had simply set to mind his own business. Is it true or untrue that they all had to regulate their essence? True or untrue that such lurid noises could often be heard from one room or another? And so, then, it would be perfectly understandable that such necessities then may need to be settled in slightly less private arrangements. And--

Edmond has been unable to decide on what is worse. That Kuya had found them with Eiden buried within him and said not a word before disappearing...or...that Edmond already quite on the edge had lost all composure and restraint when their eyes met - blue to gold and purple - when a flash of fang from an amused smile had somehow coincided with him coming hard enough that he had soaked Eiden's clothing, and the table, and the floor - distressingly helpless to stop things once it began

He hardly addressed the yokai. Out of all the clan members sworn to the Grand Sorcerer, Edmond could count the number of times they had more than passing interactions on one singular gloved hand. And yet, on near constant occasion for the next week there he was. Knowing eyes and thinly veiled insulation. Barbs. His fluster and avoidance, turned to indignation, to annoyance, to snapping back, to this. The inevitable explosion after days of prodding.

There is a thin sort of pleasure to know that while the fox yokai has deflected most of his blade's thrusts with no more than a flash of his hands and sharp claws that Edmond managed to usurp their positions with a downright dirty fighting maneuver he had to order one of his cadets to teach him several seasons ago. Maybe Kuya hadn't believed him capable of such tactics. Perhaps the fox continues to simply toy with him. He doesn't know, yet he surges with brief victory at that brief widening of the yokai's eyes as he falls with his back to the lush grass of the mansion's gardens and follows him after.

Cuts rend the fabric Edmond's his uniform's bodysuit, exposing pale skin with thin red scores in the middle of parted fabric. His bangs are beginning to stick to his forehead and cheeks in growing disarray. Cheeks that are flushing red, deeper by the second. Breathing quick, thighs spread as he straddles Kuya's form -- the edge of his blade stilled against the fox's neck by the prick of claws back against his skin. Edmond does not recognize the furious thing he is in this moment, burning higher instead of giving away in melting shelves of ice. His essence has already gathered shamefully wet between his legs and it coils, roiling in the air around them, thickening with the threat of another thin slice opening against his skin.

While he has no intent on causing the fox grievous harm or worse; Edmond does wish, very intensely, to teach the fox a lesson. So he leans in, that same wild lash of frustration urging him to fist his gloved hand into Kuya's hair to force his head back and bare his neck more.]

Remove your hands this instant.

[Demands that would land stronger if his thighs weren't tensed against the desire to shift and grind himself against the man below him to relieve some of the mounting ache in his body.]

[ Were Kuya capable of learning a lesson, neither of them would be in this mess from the start.

The truth of it is this: Kuya is utterly ruled by errant whims and strikes of fancy. The vice-captain was neither a whim nor a fancy until Kuya caught him with indiscretions hilt-deep inside of him, and that? That was interesting. Such an infuriatingly boring man, obsessed with the edicts of etiquette and the word of the law, spread across the banquet table like a common whore and coming in a deluge that pooled on the floor beneath them. What a delicious contradiction.

How could Kuya resist prodding at that? Who could blame him, really, for incessantly exploiting every weakness he found in Edmond's armor? Why, when he turned out to be so easily swayed to ire and arousal in equal measure, should Kuya ever cease to tease at Edmond's temper and toy with his desires?

Kuya can scarcely remember what finally found Edmond snapping tonight. A sly remark about sweets at dinner, perhaps. Such a simple straw to see him broken at last, but true enough, Kuya isn't expecting the takedown that fells him. The close calls up to that point are calculated, purposeful; a slip here, a lean there, and Kuya's sporting a few lacerations that almost look artful on his skin. Layers have fallen away in the fray, and by the time Edmond's blade is at his throat, there's little between them that a loosened tie wouldn't quickly remedy. And as for Edmond?

He's still playing at the futile fantasy that he doesn't want this, while Kuya can feel his need soaking them both, begging Kuya's cock to twitch with weak interest. Kuya's eyes go a touch manic, a wide glint through a grin that never fades. One hand remains tangled in the collar of Edmond's suddenly-defiled military uniform. The other strays, fingers splayed wide beneath Edmond's jaw and claws biting into his cheeks, taking the bit of leverage it affords him as an opportunity to drag Edmond infinitesimally closer.

An order to unhand him. Kuya laughs, low and breathy,a tremble under the edge of Edmond's blade. ]

Do you think you can make me, Vice-Captain?

Don't laugh--!

[The sound itself is dark honey, a forbidden spill of sweetness that finds its way into quick beat of his blood, the heat pooling there low and fierce in his gut. It's no barking order, but a plea husking as his voice breaks with the points of those nails now grasping at his face; while his body clenches on nothing. Empty. Maddeningly bereft.]

A blade at your throat and you ask such a thing.

[He hisses it, past the grasping hold on his face. That very edge, the well-honed blade from the Edmond's dutiful attentions cuts shallow at the skin underneath the closer Kuya drags him -- though Edmond refuses to allow it to go further. A lesson such as that would be inconveniently unfortunate, doing not a single thing to sate the real need burgeoning here and that is even if Edmond managed to accomplish such a feat in the first place. He's well-aware of how a yokai's power grows the older that they are. How old this one is, he can't say. Aged enough that he hedges against the claws against his skin and at his collar (and not entirely in logical wariness, as much as he wishes otherwise).

No, all Kuya earns is two answering bites. The second a sharp feather-like kiss of his sword for as he Edmond threads his sword free from the dangerous tangle of their limbs. He stakes the point of it in the ground a second later with an aggrieved snarl, close enough that he shaves short a few strands of lavender hair fanned against the grass.]

Then if you won't, make them useful!

[Frustration spills over into frank demands, that flimsy guise fraying as his hips roll, seeking to coax more than just a twitch from the fox below him.]

Adorable. A blade at my throat. You know damn well this little bout would have been over before it started, if I wanted it to be. By that measure, I'm beginning to doubt your usefulness here.

[ Nevertheless, it leaves the unspoken implication between them: that Kuya allowed this fight to happen. Wanted it to continue. And for what reason? ]

You do look stunning when you're gagging for cock. Did you know?

[ Too simple. Kuya's whimsy isn't satisfied by something as simple as a pretty face. It's too commonplace. Too easily taken. Boring. But a power play? Bringing a proud man like Edmond to his knees? Seeing him buckle to the sins of the flesh? That is the kind of decadence no amount of money or power can buy.

Kuya's claws are like razors through the front of Edmond's uniform, shredding the fabric and leaving tatters in their wake. And if he catches a bit of Edmond's skin now and again? If tiny, narrow slits of red well up all across his chest and stomach and hips? Well. Kuya will simply claim it can't be helped. A necessary pain to have the deed done.

At Edmond's hips, Kuya's hands curl into fists, and when he pulls, it sees the uniform easily split between Edmond's legs. ]

You're practically dripping for me, already. Needy slut.

[ One hand snaps back up, to snatch at Edmond's throat and hold him hostage. The other, unyielding (and sans claws, of course), pushes between Edmond's legs. It's an easy slide, two fingers past his lips and the slippery heat of his clit, to plunge into his body. ]

Now be a good boy, and tell me what you want.

[By the time Kuya rips open the front of his uniform after slicing the material to tatters, Edmond is doubting his own usefulness in turn. He's entirely inefficient at deterring Kuya from slicing his uniform to shreds. Each grasp is shaken off or foiled by another cut. If he manages to pin one hand for a half-second then he loses his grip when another line scratches into his skin. And each cut slices into Edmond's resistance, those stinging-licks tighten his core and heighten the pound of his blood. It's all with such efficiency that the knight nearly wishes for claws of his own, if only to return the same frustrations but instead he ends up clinging to the hilt of his sword for balance after a entirely un-valiant and aborted attempt to heave himself up, dizzy with his own arousal and the shame squirming deliciously in his gut.]

Wretched-

[Difficult.

It's difficult to say which of them he's calling such at the moment.

Edmond's affront is collared by Kuya's hand seizing his throat, his snarl strangles into a gasping moan when those fingers slip into him. Two all at once! And his body takes it with remarkable yielding eagerness despite the entirely of his wishes. He's braced for the rip of claws inside of him, but they don't come. There's only the clever stretch that is quicker than he's used to and burning ache that only makes him that more wet. The fit that is better than it should be. Kuya's fingers are...felonious.

Edmond's hips move instinctively. Back arching, ass grinding on Kuya's lap, he demands those fingers deeper in him through the bluntest of maneuvers.]

More.

[It's so soft. One could miss the whisper underneath the knight's noisy panting and his protesting whines. He keeps his eyes shut with furrowed brows, refusing to look and see what lecherous grin Kuya wears below him. He should be telling the fox to cease, to remove himself, but he thinks if Kuya actually does he'll go entirely mad.]

[ Arguably, shutting out Kuya's face is the wiser choice. His grin is sideways, his eyes sharp with the cruelest brand of amusement, sly and slick and simple. The fox, as clear as Edmond's ever seen him, practically bearing his fangs, all seething malevolence behind unkind laughter. Kuya's toying with him, he should make no mistake about that; better to block out the bemusement and spare his pride a little while longer.

If, indeed, pride still lives anywhere within Edmond at this juncture. It's never far, even when he's making an effort to shelve it. In large part, that's what makes this entire tryst so delicious. He struggles with it still, even while his pussy swells and drips around Kuya's fingers. Fingers that curl, plunge deeper while his palm slides firm over Edmond's clit, ever so slow; teasing, even while they begrudgingly provide precisely what Edmond demanded.

He could have more still. That's clear enough from the hard ridge of Kuya's cock grinding against his ass, contrary though he tries to be. But Kuya's no slave to pleasure. He can bide his time, even while his face flushes hot. He can wait, because-- ]

I think you can ask more politely than that.

[ The hand at Edmond's throat shifts, grip slipping up to grasp his jaw instead. ]

Go on. Say please, Vice-Captain.

I assure you, I cannot--

[It's so slow.

Edmond shakes his head the best he can, which is not very. He knows Kuya gives him only the barest of satisfaction for a reason. That this is all to drag him down the deepest depths of depravity where he whines and callings would be like like how the yokai found him before, but that had been a different situation entirely -- every gasping please had been pulled from him with tender promises coaxing him to let go of all his pride, the rigid scaffolding of his decorum.

Kuya's face is an uncaring rictus that spoke to the only tenderness being explored was that of his flesh yielding under such fangs. But at least he's flushed too. At least he's mused and nicked in turn.]

There's nothing polite about this.

[Edmond's hands abandon his planted swordhilt and fall to Kuya's shoulders. He braces against them, heedless of any discomfort his weight might incur and hitches his hips forward. Pressing in, pressing harder to ride Kuya's fingers in his mounting need. He manages to get them deeper for a least a moment, moaning as his body clenches down on those clever digits all on its own accord. Insistent on milking as much pleasure as he can. Even he can feel the spread of his slick gone far past the flick of the yokai's wrist to stain and dampen his robes. Robes which Edmond yank on to open the best he can, captured as he is. He glares, eyes open again.]

More. I want it.

[It's no please but clearly Edmond had thought a very different set of words were on his tongue by the mortified shift in his expression.]

[ And if that isn't just as satisfying as a plea... ]

Do you? How terribly gauche.

[ Still, Kuya's robes fall beneath Edmond's insistent pull, pooling on the ground beneath them, eliminating the last of what separates their naked skin, and it's not as if Kuya's given a choice in the matter. If Edmond weren't already such a perfect mess, Kuya might see fit to drag this out a bit longer; see just what manner of abject, needy filth he can fashion of this soldier boy. Might, but-- ]

All these demands. [ Kuya tsks through a long sigh. ] While you're rutting against me like a bitch in heat. Ruining my robes with your mess.

[ As if that's anything akin to a problem. But how can Kuya help a bit of teasing, when it drives Edmond up every single wall like this? Or, lack of any walls, as it were. To that end... ]

In the garden, no less? You want the whole of the clan to find you out here--

[ The movement is so quick, so sudden, so smooth. Kuya's fingers slip out of that molten, clenching heat, and Edmond barely has the forewarning of a cock head between his lips before Kuya's buried himself to the hilt. ]

--split open on my cock like this?

[ A growl, a mirthless laugh, and Kuya rocks his hips up. The yield of Edmond's body is -- admittedly -- something Kuya could lose himself in. Were he not so terribly focused on taking Edmond to task, of course. ]