Welcome to my dark, multi-fandom fanfic journey! ✨ I've always wanted to write fanfiction, and now I'm diving in with confidence. While I'm still learning and improving, my main goal is to create immersive and engaging stories.
About the Writer ✏️
Name: Amy | Pronouns: She/Her
Age: 20 | Zodiac: Aquarius ♒
Personality Type: INFJ
Identity: Pansexual 🖤💖💙 | Autistic ♾️
What I Write 📝
Yandere x Reader Focus: This is primarily a dark/yandere fanfic blog. Occasionally, I might write normal character x Reader fics.
Reader POV: Mostly gender-neutral, but I may adjust depending on the story.
Trigger Warnings: I always tag sensitive content (angst, NSFW, dark themes, etc.).
Platonic Yandere Fics: Expect unique dynamics like Yandere Parent x Child Reader, Yandere Sibling x Reader, and other non-romantic scenarios.
Yandere x Dere Reader Tropes: I may explore different relationship dynamics, including Tsundere Reader, Kuudere Reader, and more.
What I Don't Write 🚫
Character x Character Fanfics – I focus on Reader-insert stories.
Adult Character x Child Reader / Pedophilia – Absolutely not.
Real People – I don’t write RPF (Real Person Fiction).
Pairing 1:Yandereshipping (Vector/III | Michael Arclight)
Propaganda: I've been rotating them in my head ever since my brain stumbled upon them... It's the kind of ship that sounds insane at first but starts making more and more sense the more you think about it 😳 Vector needs somebody who will say that there's some good in him while also acknowledging his more cruel/bad parts. Mihael needs somebody who will tell him that it's ok to get angry and not play supportive peacemaker all the time. It's like foilshipping if Yuma was rich and adopted a feral raccoon off the street to keep him company because his entire family is busy all the time <3 The elaborate Zexal II post-canon fanfic I'm writing in my head about them makes so much sense. trust. I could rant about them for 100 more sentences but I'm not gonna write an essay in the submission form,
Propaganda: Because Akari can do better than Charlie McCoy and honestly the eldest Arclight looks the type to like a woman who could physically kick his ass. | They're both the oldest sibling
Now, let’s keep things civil. This is a silly poll where we can share why we love our overlooked ships. There’s no need to be nasty to prove your point. Bashers will be fed to Don Thousand.
137. Loathing (resisting urge to make Wicked references)
"... and the King was so hated by his people that no one mourned his death," Michael was saying as Vector wandered in. "He was considered insane by the people but he would never listen to the advisers and any suggestions of such were met with death."
"What is this?" Vector said, flopping on the foot of the bed.
Michael glanced up over the edge of his book but kept going. "The accusations that the young Prince had murdered his parents were widely ignored by the people and while the Queen was greatly mourned, there was great rejoicing when the Prince was crowned. Texts show that the Prince was considered the savior of the kingdom; charming, handsome, intelligent and capable of forging peace treaties with even the most ferocious of war lords, said to be willing to do anything for the good of his kingdom and better the lives of his people."
"Sounds like a sap," he muttered.
"However the Prince soon caved under the pressure-"
"Weakling."
"-and was soon discovered to be just as bloodthirsty and cruel as his father. He amassed armies and declared war on former allies, taxing his people to breaking point, driving them into poverty, famine and decline."
"Someone needed to smack him, huh?"
"Despite his victories, he was always alone and afraid for his life, fearing other were always plotting against him. He feared for his life at every turn and soon anyone who spoke out of turn was considered an enemy and put to death. The formerly loved Prince had become a tyrant King, hated and feared by his people, alone, afraid and unloved in his castle."
"What a loser... Ah, what an idiot. No wonder everyone hated him."
"By the time he died his kingdom was in ruins, unrecoverable and his people died out leaving little but ruins behind. It's unknowns whether he committed suicide or the people finally grew restless and the last of his guards assassinated him but what little counts remain say that the survives of his purge looted the castle and his treasures, even taking the jewels and clothes from his body throwing his body in the pit he once used to torture his victims."
"Serves him right, you know?" Vector laughed. "What kind of idiot would lose control of himself and his kingdom like that."
"Mmm, a man hated and fears and cursed never to be loved by anyone," Michael murmured, getting up off the bed and putting the open book down in front of him. "What a pitiful creature."
Vector stared down at the picture next to the passage Michael was reading. Crumbled ruins depicting the king surrounded by demons and spirits and blood. His fists clenched in the sheets. Him. It was him.
He turned to stare up at Michael as he changed from his school uniform. He didn't want to be... soft. But still, hated, feared and unloved. He seemed such a miserable man when Michael read it back. Was he really so pitiful even now?
"I've changed," Vector said firmly. "I'm not insane and I'm not that weak. I'm in control now. I won't ever be that madman again! I won't let anyone take control of my life ever again! I'm not like that monster!"
"And you're loved," Michael murmured.
Vector blinked up at him and Michael flashed a soft smile, turning Vector embarrassingly red.
Summary: Vector found a monster but he wasn't afraid.
Warnings: because I realised the end of the Innocent Malice AU doesn't make much sense without the beginning, set back when Vector was still cute and sweet and adorable, blood, violence, murder, injuries
Vector was panting heavily, struggling to keep up with the soldiers as they hurried to the source of the commotion. He'd heard of a terrible murder and his father had so little interest Vector had decided to go himself.
The door to the house had been forced open and was splintered and broken. Vector waited outside with a few of the soldiers, struggling to regain his breath as the others went inside. He could hear them yelling at someone. He could hear the demands for someone to drop his weapon and surrender. And then the yelling got worse. There was screaming of the injured and dying and Vector took half a step back. What was going on in there?
Things fell deathly quiet and Vector gulped, his men glancing at each other before taking a step in. Vector grasped his own sword warily. He knew how to use it but he'd never had to outside of his father's brutal training routine. Still, if his men were going to offer up their lives for the royal family, he would be with them.
The stench of death hit them the second they stepped over the threshold. Vector was almost sick right there and the men didn't look any better. He stepped forwards slowly, following the soldiers on, pushing on despite the hideous stench.
There was a hand on the floor. Just a hand. Hacked from the body, blood splattered over the floor as the stepped through into the back room.
This time it really was a struggle to hold back the need to throw up.
The room was covered in blood. And body parts. And bodies. Vector's stomach churned violently and he leant against the door frame. His soldiers. There had been almost a dozen soldiers going in. Now their bodies were strewn across the room. The remaining for soldiers were obviously terrified. They stepped forwards slowly, swords raised, hands trembling.
"Surrender," the captain said, his voice shaking. "Or- or we will have to use force."
"Do you think you can succeed when so many just failed?"
Vector's gaze fell on the tiny creature in the centre of the room. A bloody sword in one hand, a huge axe in the other. His pink hair was matted and soaked, sticking for his face, stained with blood. His big green eyes looked so hard and cold but Vector was sure he saw tear tracks down his cheeks, and such a great pain on his features. His white tunic was stained to. There were fresh wounds over his legs and arms and the side of his stomach. What on earth had happened? Surely this tiny child couldn't have defeated so many of his soldiers.
He stepped closer slowly and his soldiers glanced over. "Your highness-"
"What's your name?" Vector said, struggling to pull himself up straight in the disgusting room. He took a deep breath as the boy's gaze fell on him. "I am Vector, Prince of these lands. Tell me your name. Tell me who you are."
"You do a better job hiding your fear than the others," he whispered. "Is that your royal training?"
"It's because I'm not afraid," he replied. And it was true. For some reason, he wasn't afraid. Perhaps because he was certain he was going to die. He'd been told once by his father that fear came from possibilities and the unknown. When facing certain death, people became brave and calm. "Now, who are you?"
"I'm a demon," the child said, meeting his gaze. "Are you really not afraid of me?"
"I'm really not afraid."
There was a moment of silence before the boy shot up, sword raised and aiming right at him. Vector's met his gaze, even as his men rushed to stop him. But Vector didn't move. He held out his arms, holding the boy's gaze and letting him come at him. The sword came to rest against this chest and Vector smiled softly.
"I'm not afraid."
"Why?"
"Because I don't think you want to hurt people. I think you won't kill if you're not threatened." He stepped aside and the soldiers and the child. "Go. Go on. Run. I won't stop you."
"Your highness?" the soldiers called.
"Why?" the child whispered.
"Because I think you've killed here for a reason. I think if I let you go you'll leave and probably ever be heard from again." The child stepped aside and went to slip away but Vector reached out a hand. "Will you at least tell me your name?"
"Michael," he said softly.
"Michael…" He smiled and reached out, cupping Michael's damp, sticky cheek cautiously. "Well, goodbye then, Michael."
"Goodbye, your highness."
He turned to leave and Vector smiled slightly as an idea hit him. "Or…" Michael paused and Vector smiled over his shoulder. "Or, you can stay with me."
"Stay with you, your highness?"
"Yes," he said softly. "Stay with me." He turned away and the soldiers followed, leaving Michael staring. "Come with me and live at the palace by my side. You killed so many people, I'm sure we can find a use for you. I need a personal guard. I'm sure it must be better than whatever you're doing right now." He held out a hand but didn't look back. "But it's up to you."
He continued to walk and after a few moment, a slick hand caught his and he smiled, pulling Michael up to walk next to him. He undid his cloak and wrapped it around Michael's shoulders. Michael offered a small smile and didn't even fight when the guards took his weapons. As long as Vector told him not to fight, and ordered the men not to threaten Michael in anyway, they passed through peacefully.
He took Michael through to the baths, stripped him off with very little care- he didn't want to touch his bloody clothes more than he had to and Michael didn't seem to care about the roughness- and dumped a bucket of cold water of him to get off the worst of the blood. Michael didn't seem to care about much, even when Vector led him down into the deep, steaming pool. He smiled and took up a cloth, gently washing Michael's body, cleaning the wounds as best he could. They weren't just new. There was still healing wounds and scars.
"What happened to you?"
"I told you," Michael whispered. "I'm a demon."
"I don't believe that," Vector murmured, gently cleaning his face. "And even if you were, why did that cause all these?"
"People have been trying to cure me," he replied. "Trying to force it out of me. It doesn't work. I'm a monster. You should put me down."
"No. I think you're perfectly useful. I don't believe in demons and I don't believe that you should be killed. I think I will find a use for you."
"A use for me?" Michael whispered, drawing back slightly.
"Oh!" Vector cried shaking his head and raising his hands. "No, no, nothing like that. I promise." Michael nodded nervously and Vector smiled gently. "What do you want from life, Michael?"
"I- I want to find my brother Thomas." Vector nodded slightly. "And… I want someone special in my life." Vector tilted his head slightly and Michael lowered his head. "Everyone is afraid of me. And even when they aren't they always leave."
"Leave?" Vector beamed and grasped his hands. "Then that's it."
"What's it?"
"I'm not afraid of yo. I won't ever be afraid of you."
"You won't?"
"And I will never leave you."
"Never?"
"And in return, you will serve me, and never betray me?"
Michael stared up at him for a moment before nodded and squeezing his hands tightly. "As long as you never leave me behind, I'll serve you loyally. You need never fear me."
Vector nodded and wrapped his arms tightly around him. Michael seemed stunned but Vector help him close, stroking his hair and taking comfort in his warmth. He'd never had a friend before. His father didn't approve and the servant were all afraid he'd be like his father. But he had to approve of Michael, didn't he? He had no doubt his father would love a son like Michael. Violent and deadly and powerful. But if he would serve Vector loyally then he had to accept him. Maybe he'd even be proud of Vector for taming a so-called demon who'd brutally murdered at least a dozen people.
"Vector." He stiffened and drew back, making sure to keep himself between his father and Michael as he approached. "Who is this?"
"He's Michael, Father," he whispered. "I picked him up with the soldiers."
"The monster who brutally murdered at least a dozen of me elite guards?" he snarled.
"Yes, Father."
"And you're keeping such a creature as your pet?"
"I'm not afraid of him," Vector cried, shaking his head. "Father, he'd now a monster, he just needs care."
His father turned his gaze on Michael and Vector desperately wished Michael would look away rather than glaring up at him. "You think I will let you get away with murdering my men?"
"If they fell so easily to me, I doubt they deserve to be called elite guards," Michael said, lifting his chin.
Vector wanted to pull him away and tell him to stop and be respectful. He didn't want his father to hurt him, but instead his father just laughed. Vector was stunned. His father never laughed like that. Why was he laughing at him being disrespectful? If Vector had spoken like that he would have been beaten.
"I suppose not," he sneered. "Do be good to my son. Perhaps you'll be a good influence on him and I'll finally have a son I can be proud of." He turned and swept away. "Enjoy your pet, Vector. I hope you can at least do that right."
Michael smiled softly, sauntering through the last royal guard not to have fled in fear of their lives. Vector sighed, reclining on his throne as Michael approached, kneeling in front on him. A few had fought their fates and Michael was drenched in their blood. His hair stuck to his forehead and cheeks, his beautiful white robes now stained and clinging to his thighs as droplets and splatters flowed down his neck and exposed torso.
Vector reached down a hand and Michael took it gently, kissing the ring with his royal crest. His beautiful demon. He slipped to fingers passed Michael's lips and Michael sucked softly and obediently, sending hot shivers through his King.
"I love you, Michael," he whispered, lifting his fingers away. Michael resisted for a moment before letting him draw his hands away, a trail of saliva still remaining. "And you me?"
"Of course, your majesty," Michael replied, getting up slowly and slipping onto the throne him. Their lips brushed and Michael smiled. "What's wrong?"
"Do you not hear the ghosts, my dear?"
"Ghosts? Your majesty?"
"They're coming for me, Michael. They're coming. All the lives lost. My sins and my father's, they will do all they can to see me fail. And I won't let them, Michael."
"You're not making any sense to me, I'm afraid."
He lifted his gaze to meet Michael's, stroking his cheek tenderly. "There are people who want me dead. In this life and the next. They wish me dead."
"I will protect you," Michael promised. "I will not let harm come to you, you majesty. I swore it. I have slaughter hundreds for you, ordered the death of thousands for you. I won't let anyone lay a hand on you."
"Are you so wonderful, dear Michael, that not even spirits can stand against you?" Vector whispered.
He looked lost and Vector understood. They both knew they loved one another- in their own strange way- but it had never needed to be said. They knew so why say it? And why should even the demon child Michael understand that he was haunted by the ghosts of those he and his father had damned? Michael had sworn unwavering loyalty to him until his dying breath and Vector believed him up until now but still… would his beloved executioner follow him to the grave?
"I swore never to leave you," Vector whispered. "Do you really wish to hold me to my vows?"
"Why wouldn't I?" Michael argued softly. "I have been abandoned so many times, your majesty. I have searched for the people I love and failed. I was alone until I met you. You haven't ever broken your promise. However, if you are asking for permission to leave me-"
"I am asking if you would like to leave, Michael," he said firmly, cupping his cheeks and stroking gently. "Before your life is claimed like the rest of them."
"My loyalty to you is until I'm death, your majesty, I won't leave you until then."
Vector smiled softly and nodded, slipping off his throne and taking Michael's hand. Their fingers entwined and Michael followed without argument. Of course. His dear Michael would indulge his every whim.
He led Michael through the blood stained castle to his chambers, stepping over the body of a maid and one of his pets who had run for their lives. The sun would be setting soon and soon the spirits would come out again.
He stripped them both of their clothes and pushed Michael gently to the bed. "If you won't leave me and save yourself, if you insist on following me through to the afterlife, then join me in bed at last. With no one between us. Just you and me."
"You won't fight your death?" Michael whispered, pulling him down into a soft kiss.
"There is nothing left to fight it for, Michael."
"What about me?"
"You who brings death to anyone who takes you to bed?" Vector murmured. "I would happily accept death to be in your arms just once."
Michael smiled, tears shining in his beautiful emerald eyes as he leant up for another kiss that Vector gave him happily. He pushed Michael back into the pillows, wasting no time exploring the form he'd watched but not been able to touch. To take Michael to bed was to sign your own death warrant, but he loved Michael more than anything. The spirits would drive him insane. More than they already had they would kill him. He would die on his own terms. He would take his own life by his own means, in the arms of the man he loved.
Vector had never been one for love of tenderness. He had never cared much for soft passionate love making but Michael was different. Their bodies moved together slowly and their soft moans echoed around the empty castle. Vector could think of nothing but his dear Michael. It felt right. Since the day he killed his parents something had felt off in his life. But it felt right with Michael. Everything felt right with Michael. Like he really was his other half.
Lying with Michael in the orange glow of the setting sun, bathed in blood transferred from Michael's body, Vector couldn't have been more content. He smiled and stroked Michael hair gently, twisting in around his fingers and watching his kingdom burning outside the window. Let his kingdom burn. Let his people scream as they danced in the flames. Let rivers of blood flood his castle.
None of it mattered with Michael in his arms.
"Get dressed," Vector whispered finally as the sun dipped below the horizon. "Put on something nice."
Michael smiled and stepped out into his adjoining room. Vector himself pulled on his finest robes and jewels before pouring out a goblet of wine for each of them. The murmur of the spirits began to grow and it was all Vector could do to block it out as he mixed a poison into Michael's wine. He would take his love with him, but he wouldn't allow him to suffer through it.
He turned to one of the tomes kept in his room. The list of taxes and expenses. He grabbed the ink and quill from this desk and a peace of parchment. Even if people destroyed everything of his and scrubbed his life from existence, this book would be kept and so would a record of his beloved Michael.
As King, I have caused the death of thousands of people. Countless lives have been lost by my orders. My faithful executioner Michael has remained at my side and caused a great many of those deaths personally. His death count may rival mind. And though I am about to take my life and his, I want it to be known that I loved him. I have always loved him, perhaps from the moment I found him. Whoever finds this, know that I love my dear Michael, and he agreed to die at my side despite me giving him the chance to leave. And if nothing else, he'll feel no pain. I will put him to sleep before I take his life.
King Vector
Michael smiled as he slipped in, wearing beautiful red and gold robes that flowed behind him. And Vector's crest hung around his neck. Vector smiled, holding out his drink. He looked stunning. His beloved Michael would be beautiful for all eternity at his side. Michael drank with hesitation and Vector sipped his own wine, hoping to block out the voices of the dead.
"You will really murder the one people to have ever loved you?" his mother whispered in his ear.
Vector blocked it out, shaken back to the real world as Michael's goblet clattered to the ground. His eyes were full of pain, not physical but certainly emotional, and Vector caught him gently as he fell back. He would feel no pain. Vector had made certain of that.
He laid Michael gently in his bed, stroking his hair as he faded into unconsciousness and a peaceful slumber he would never wake from.
"I'm sorry it has to be like this," Vector whispered, downing his wine and picking up his sword. "I would have spent eternity with you. If only I'd met you sooner, perhaps I would have turned out better. Whatever better is. I wanted you to leave. I wanted to save you and let you carry on your search for your family, but even if you decided to leave this life at my side, I wouldn't let you feel the pain of it."
He laid down at Michael's side, blocking out the voices as well as he could and wrapping him in his arms until he was sure he was completely gone. His heart ached knowing what he was about to do. It went against everything his father had taught him. But he could listen to their voices all night. He couldn't let them control his life. This was his and Michael's choice.
He lifted his sword slowly positioning in behind Michael carefully. It would pierce them both, they would die by his blade. He would feel in and his dear Michael would not. He gently shifted Michael a little closer, their limbs entangled, his head tucked under Vector's chin, pressing as close as possible to his sleeping love. If anyone ever came, they would find them together.
He took a deep breath, steadying his nerves and closing his eyes a final time before plunging the sword in, piercing them both and sending his world spiralling into nothing but pain and darkness until finally there wasn't even that.
Summary: Vector was certain he could do anything with Michael at his side.
Warnings: mentions of death, blood, injuries, violence
"When are you going to forgive me, sweetheart?" Vector purred. Michael turned to glare at him and Vector grinned. "I am not afraid of you, Michael. I will never be afraid of you." He smiled and stroked Michael's cheek gently. Michael was the one person in the world he could trust. He could never fear him. "I will always love you. And you will forgive me sooner or later."
Michael sighed and leant his head back in the pillows, letting Vector tend to the wound on his leg. War was brutal and Michael loved it as much as Vector did. His beautiful Michael. The only person in the world he could rely on. He smiled and tied the bandage in place and kissed gently along the edge of the bandage.
"Didn't I promise to stay with you, your majesty?" Michael whispered
"Michael…" He offered a soft smile and crawled up over him, pressing their lips together roughly. "How can I be sure you'll keep your word? If you find your family you'll leave me."
"I swore to you that I would remain with you," he murmured. "Didn't I?" He cupped Vector's cheeks and kissed him back softly. "Did I not swear my life to you, your majesty? That we would always be together until out final breaths."
"Our final breaths…"
"I just wanted to find Thomas. The others could take care of themselves but me and Thomas…"
"Should I be jealous?"
"Of my brother?"
"Was he good looking?"
Michael laughed softly and brushed Vector's hair from his eyes. "The most handsome person in the world."
"I'm going to have to kill him then," he laughed softly.
Michael's eyes darkened and Vector gasped as Michael gripped his throat, forcing him over onto the mattress, pinning him beneath him. There was a fire in his eyes Vector had never seen directed towards him before. But he wasn't afraid. Michael would never hurt him. He could threaten and posture but his dear Michael would never cause him harm. His hands slid up Michael's arms, over his shoulders and neck, gently cupping his cheeks once more.
"I will always be your humble servant, your majesty," Michael hissed. "But if you keep talking about my brother like that I may have to find other ways to cause you discomfort."
"Fine, I understand," Vector murmured, stroking his hair from his face. "No talking about your dear Thomas."
"I'm glad we understand each other," he said with a bright smile.
Anyone else and Vector would have had them executed on the spot but not his Michael. Instead he smiled and pulled Michael down to the bed with him, holding him close as Michael snuggled against him. He was still wound up after the battle and Vector would gladly help him release that pent up energy. Besides, it was a time to celebrate. They were rid of that Princess Merag and Vector was sure her brother would follow soon after. With Michael at his side he couldn't fail.
sorry for the confusion XD I had said foilshipping and then whenever I went back to your home page there was sargasso and I thought that well they're kinda the same thing so I should probably ask for something different but could you do "Cry a little louder, see what that gets you." foilshipping or yandere or aztecshipping (sorry bout the paragraph message X3)
A right I understand. Don't worry. And of course we all know that when I'm given the option for ships I have to squish them together.
Soooo meet the Innocent Malice AU.
Yuma whimpered slightly as he was forced into a bath, scrubbed and washed roughly. The maids were rough and hurried, lathering up his hair and pouring water over him. He didn't know what was happening. He'd been dragged from his village, chained up and brought to this castle and now thrown into a bath. He didn't know what had become of his family. He just knew he'd been thrown in a cell with the other prisoners.
He was pulled carelessly from the bath, dried off roughly and his hair preened and laced with flowers as a white tunic was draped onto him, short at the front and long and flowing at the back, the ends of the material brushing the floor. A golden collar was fastened around his neck and shackle like cuffs onto his ankles and wrists.before they let him slip into sandals. It was strange to be treated so nicely and to be given these fine clothes and pieces of jewellery when he'd just been plucked out of a half destroyed village, held as a prisoner and forced into these situations.
Yuma had heard tales of people being sacrificed. How they were bathed and fed up and dressed in fine clothes before being sacrificed to strange gods from others lands. Was that what was going on?
They took him through back passages to a pair of dark wooden doors, The guards banged on the door and they opened to reveal a huge, luxurious bedroom draped with royal purple silks and a huge bed with a canopy and seem see-through drapes. Yuma could just about make out a figure on the bed and his heart stopped. Tears welled in his eyes and he pulled back as much as he could but the guards shoved him forwards to his knees and the huge doors slammed shut behind him. He staggered to his feet, banging his fists against the door and begging desperately to be released and let out.
"Hush pet," chuckled a voice from the bed. "No one's going to hurt you as long you behave." Yuma turned, backing up against the door as much as he could. "Come here, pet. Don't be shy."
Yuma hesitated a moment before crossing the room cautiously. He pushed the drapes away slowly and found a rather handsome redheaded man sitting on the bed in stunning silk robes that fell from his shoulders, exposing his upper arms and torso. He smiled, purple eyes glittering.
"You are every bit as stunning as I knew you would be," he purred, pulling Yuma down to the bed. It was soft and comfortable and the sheets were delicate like he'd never felt before. But the way the man looked at him made him uneasy. His thumb brushed his cheek and Yuma scrunched his eyes shut. "You will look at your King, boy."
"King?" he cried, his eyes snapping wide open. "Your- your majesty?"
"Your majesty," called a sweet voice as the doors burst open.
They heavy doors slammed once more and Yuma watched a figure approaching the bed with no respect or caution. The drapes were pulled back and the King clamped a hand over his mouth to muffle his scream.
"Michael..."
Yuma twisted and struggled, still screaming as the young man bowed deeply, blood dripping onto the floor and sheets around him. Without a moments hesitation, the young man- Michael, the King had called him in a rather hushed, lust filled tone- peeled his back robes from his slender, toned body. Yuma hushed slightly, still whimpering and crying, as Michael climbed onto the bed, sitting himself in Yuma's lap, his weight keeping him from squirming as the King held his upper body still and quiet.
"You will be quiet," the King whispered in his ear as Michael nipped at his other ear. "No screaming, no crying, no fighting and begging for mercy, understand? Behave and I will let you live. Cry a little louder, see what that gets you. My dear Michael will tend to you as only he can."
Yuma stiffled his sobs as Michael's lips moved slowly over his jaw, humming softly. "You should enjoy your King's attention, child."
