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YuGiOh yaoi, twenty-one scenes of seven characters
folder
Yu-Gi-Oh › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,100
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Yu-Gi-Oh › Yaoi - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
2,100
Reviews:
2
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own YuGiOh!, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
BakuraXRyou
This chapter was painful to write.
As you can tell by the lack of surrounding story, I view this "pairing" as nearly cannon. However, I do not see it as anything pretty, fluffy, or sweet in any way. I think the Spirit of the Ring did horrable things to Ryou, some of them sexual. Don't get me wrong, I think the Spirit of the Ring is an amazingly interesting, complex persion with more on his mind than...well...mindless causing of pain. However, I don't think Ryou ever qualified as much beyond just a useful playtoy at best for him. I've heard the arguement that the Spirit would come out to protect Ryou from bullies much as Atem did for Yugi...only more violently. My theory is that that was mostly because Ryou's weakness was annoying to him.
I've certianlly learned one important lesson from this though.
Never...EVER write a rape sequence from the perspective of the uke ever again.
*****
Ryou’s soul room was spotless. Naturally, he’d been locked in there for longer than he cared to think about with nothing to do but clean up and organize. As of today he knew himself almost completely. Every stray knick knack and color choice here in his soul room was conscious knowledge now. He knew he could live a tremendously focused and successful life with this information. …if he didn’t die in here first.
Unexpectedly, the door flew open. Ryou looked up, hope and terror melding into a single, unnamed emotion. It was him, and the look in his eyes could only be described as predatory. Ryou cowered in the far corner of the bed, curling into the fetal position and covering his head with his arms, not daring to look.
The hand that caught his was cool, even cold. Its grip was indisputable, and Ryous body followed its pull without argument beyond a frightened whimper. He had been forced to lay on his stomach, the gripped hand pinned securely at the top corner of the bed. He moved as if to roll to face his assailant but a hand took sudden, rough hold of the place his spine connected to his skull.
The grip would likely leave bruses. A cry of pain was muffled by his face being shoved into the pillows. Terror surged through Ryou. He was going to suffocate! Hot breath on his neck, weight shifting the bed and weight across his backside. A wet sort of fire assaulted his neck as a tongue traced the line of it. AT his earlobe, tongue gave way to teeth and flesh was pierced. Ryou screamed into the pillow.
Teeth pulled, hand forced his head to turn to its side, bitten ear up. Ryou sucked in the oxygen greedily, expecting to be deprived of it very soon. The blood from his near was lapped by the tongue and the hand that captured his traced down his arm in a mockery of a caress. Then, reaching his chin, tugged it up slightly, tisting his neck to an akward angle. The mouth left his ear, but then took his lip teeth crashing hard against his, tongue plunging into and plundering his mouth. Ryou gagged on the taste of his own blood. The hand left his neck, his head now only held in place by the thumb and forefinger gripping his chin. Ryou fought the kiss by returning it, trying to push out the invading tongue with his own. The hand that had been on the back of his neck slid down and grabbed his pants which, here in this place where all that really existed was mind, disappeared completely at the touch. Underwear must’ve gone too, for he was suddenly bare.
The other pulled back some, and both hands were suddenly on his thys. Ryou grabbed the edge of his bed and pulled, trying to get away. Muscles stretched and pulled as the other refused to even loosen his grip. Lifting his head and chest, Ryou shifted and reached with his other hand to grip the edge of the bed and haul himself to the floor. He was hanging to nearly his abdomen when he was yanked roughly backwards. His head crashed hard on the headboard and came to rest on the pillos at the same moment as a stabbing pain behind the place where his legs met threatened to rip him in two. Ryou screamed and the penetration deepened. He lashed out, grabbing, clawing and tearing at his own pillow. The other rose and thrusted over and over again in a harsh erratic rhythm. Ryous’ repeated cries of agony echoed through the connected minds, filling them and engraining this torture into its very fabric.
The other finished. The climax was marked by even harsher thrusts and a low, continuous groan. A feeling of something alien filling him, the substance remaining even after the object, body, was removed. The other climbed off the bed and leered down at Ryou, who simply laid still. As the other walked away with an easy, arrogant stride, Ryou felt chocked. Tears slipped down his face and his aching inner body began heaving with great sobs as he was at last, mercifully, left alone.
As you can tell by the lack of surrounding story, I view this "pairing" as nearly cannon. However, I do not see it as anything pretty, fluffy, or sweet in any way. I think the Spirit of the Ring did horrable things to Ryou, some of them sexual. Don't get me wrong, I think the Spirit of the Ring is an amazingly interesting, complex persion with more on his mind than...well...mindless causing of pain. However, I don't think Ryou ever qualified as much beyond just a useful playtoy at best for him. I've heard the arguement that the Spirit would come out to protect Ryou from bullies much as Atem did for Yugi...only more violently. My theory is that that was mostly because Ryou's weakness was annoying to him.
I've certianlly learned one important lesson from this though.
Never...EVER write a rape sequence from the perspective of the uke ever again.
*****
Ryou’s soul room was spotless. Naturally, he’d been locked in there for longer than he cared to think about with nothing to do but clean up and organize. As of today he knew himself almost completely. Every stray knick knack and color choice here in his soul room was conscious knowledge now. He knew he could live a tremendously focused and successful life with this information. …if he didn’t die in here first.
Unexpectedly, the door flew open. Ryou looked up, hope and terror melding into a single, unnamed emotion. It was him, and the look in his eyes could only be described as predatory. Ryou cowered in the far corner of the bed, curling into the fetal position and covering his head with his arms, not daring to look.
The hand that caught his was cool, even cold. Its grip was indisputable, and Ryous body followed its pull without argument beyond a frightened whimper. He had been forced to lay on his stomach, the gripped hand pinned securely at the top corner of the bed. He moved as if to roll to face his assailant but a hand took sudden, rough hold of the place his spine connected to his skull.
The grip would likely leave bruses. A cry of pain was muffled by his face being shoved into the pillows. Terror surged through Ryou. He was going to suffocate! Hot breath on his neck, weight shifting the bed and weight across his backside. A wet sort of fire assaulted his neck as a tongue traced the line of it. AT his earlobe, tongue gave way to teeth and flesh was pierced. Ryou screamed into the pillow.
Teeth pulled, hand forced his head to turn to its side, bitten ear up. Ryou sucked in the oxygen greedily, expecting to be deprived of it very soon. The blood from his near was lapped by the tongue and the hand that captured his traced down his arm in a mockery of a caress. Then, reaching his chin, tugged it up slightly, tisting his neck to an akward angle. The mouth left his ear, but then took his lip teeth crashing hard against his, tongue plunging into and plundering his mouth. Ryou gagged on the taste of his own blood. The hand left his neck, his head now only held in place by the thumb and forefinger gripping his chin. Ryou fought the kiss by returning it, trying to push out the invading tongue with his own. The hand that had been on the back of his neck slid down and grabbed his pants which, here in this place where all that really existed was mind, disappeared completely at the touch. Underwear must’ve gone too, for he was suddenly bare.
The other pulled back some, and both hands were suddenly on his thys. Ryou grabbed the edge of his bed and pulled, trying to get away. Muscles stretched and pulled as the other refused to even loosen his grip. Lifting his head and chest, Ryou shifted and reached with his other hand to grip the edge of the bed and haul himself to the floor. He was hanging to nearly his abdomen when he was yanked roughly backwards. His head crashed hard on the headboard and came to rest on the pillos at the same moment as a stabbing pain behind the place where his legs met threatened to rip him in two. Ryou screamed and the penetration deepened. He lashed out, grabbing, clawing and tearing at his own pillow. The other rose and thrusted over and over again in a harsh erratic rhythm. Ryous’ repeated cries of agony echoed through the connected minds, filling them and engraining this torture into its very fabric.
The other finished. The climax was marked by even harsher thrusts and a low, continuous groan. A feeling of something alien filling him, the substance remaining even after the object, body, was removed. The other climbed off the bed and leered down at Ryou, who simply laid still. As the other walked away with an easy, arrogant stride, Ryou felt chocked. Tears slipped down his face and his aching inner body began heaving with great sobs as he was at last, mercifully, left alone.