Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Untitled ❯ One-Shot
[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]
By: Niu Shiy-Ue 
SetoxMokuba
Incest, shota
Vamp fic
PWP
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy / Psychological | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 07.31.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.6K | Visits: 604 | Status: Completed
SetoxMokuba
Incest, shota
Vamp fic
PWP
Anime/Manga: Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction | Genre(s): Fantasy / Psychological | Type: Alternate Universe | Uploaded On: 07.31.2004 | Pages: 2 | Words: 2.6K | Visits: 604 | Status: Completed
Title: Recommend me one!
Niu Shiy-Ue
If Yu-Gi-Oh were mine, Joey wouldn't win as many duels as he does. Sorry, but just not my favorite character.
AU, plus the usual for this list, shota, incest. Some blood, but this isn't a really graphic fic. Some psychological rape and masturbation, but no real intercourse.
R/NC-17 not sure but somewhere between those two.
SetoxMokuba, some SetoxSeto
Nope
Going to be MM.org, if I ever find my password again.
Some Kaiba history, but this is AU so you shouldn't take it as canon.
Vamp fic, no real plot. Oh and for once, Seto has not been raped by Gonzaburo! That's rare.
Friday nights I make a point of coming home early. 8 PM may not be considered early to some, however given that I usually don't come home till 11 or not at all, this is quite a deviation from the rest of the week.
Getting home, I change from shoes to slippers and hand my trench coat to the servant to be put away. "Where's Mokuba?" I ask as I put away my metal briefcase.
"He went to bed already. He said it's been a long week." I nod then dismiss her. Friday is the staff's day off; I keep a security detail on the grounds, but most of the servants have already left by noon. I then go to heat up the meal that the cook has prepared for me, normally I wouldn't bother with dinner at all, but Fridays are always a special case.
Having finished, I make my way up to Mokuba's bedroom. Peeking in, I'm not surprised that he is already in bed. Normally he'll wait up till 10 or 11 for me to get home, however he always seems to want to avoid me on Fridays. I slip in and lock the door; he tenses at the sound of the lock clicking, but attempts to feign sleep. Amused I allow him his deception for a while, making my way over to his bed. He turns away from me, so I busy myself with his long black hair, running my hands through it. "How was school?"
He stays silent for a while, but eventually answers me. "It was fine. We changed PE today, no more swimming, instead we're doing track."
I nod, distracted by the fine texture of his hair. "Are you going to ignore me all night?" He turns around and my breath catches in my throat.
It all started before you were even born.
It's amazing how much we can miss of the world till it comes up and smacks us in the face. That's what happened to us. Mother was coming home from the doctor's when she was attacked by a vampire. Vampires had just been ghost stories for me until that point. She nearly died, which is ironic since she had just confirmed that she was pregnant with you. What was supposed to be a joyful event eventually became a tragedy. She survived, but only as a vampire herself. She struggled so hard during those months of her pregnancy, trying desperately to remain human for your sake. It took its toll, and she passed away as you were coming into the world.
Father blamed you. He didn't hurt you or anything, instead he just ignored you, or to be more precise, that particular side of you. He did everything a normal father does: fed you, bathed you, made sure you were safe. But you weren't a normal baby; you were affected by the attack on Mother as well.
You were a dampyre.
Before she died, Mother had entrusted me with your care. And that meant when Father ignored you, when you burned in the noonday sun, when you cried for blood, I was there.
Blood. That seems to be the most important part of it in my mind.
It never seemed to be a big thing. Unlike most infants, you already had a handful of teeth, including your fangs. The first few times I really didn't know what I was doing, just acting on the few ghost stories I remembered. Every day after school I'd pick you up from your bassinet and held you to my neck and let your instincts take over. And those times ~hurt~, you didn't know any better. Later as more of your teeth came in, I'd let you nibble on the tips of my fingers, allowing you small drops to calm you down.
By the time we were sent to the orphanage, we already knew more about this side of you. It seemed like such a normal part of our lives. You didn't need to draw from me more than twice a week, and you usually chose to drink from my wrist rather than my neck. You learned how to make it stop hurting me, using the mild anesthetic properties of your saliva to numb the pain to a pleasant warmth. We even had learned to hide it from the adults; we learned that from our intolerant relatives.
We may have been good at hiding it, but the other children at the orphanage always seemed to know that ~something~ was different about you. You were a constant victim of both bullies and just teasing in general. That's when I started sticking up for you, after all I knew you were special even if the others only saw you as something to be feared and attacked.
Looking back, I'm still not sure I would have challenged Gonzaburo Kaiba if I had known what would happen in the future. I admit, going with him gave me the best resources to protect you, on the other hand, had we gone with someone else, it might have been better for the both of us. In any case, coming here meant a change for the worse in our lives.
I'm not sure how you learned of the beatings. I did my best to hide what happened from you, but somehow you knew. Perhaps it was merely a manifestation of your growing power. Either way, you began to withdraw from me, from ~us~.
I had always viewed your requirement for blood and my supplying you with it as an integral part of our relationship. When the beatings started, you tried to destroy that part. You refused to drink from me, even as I saw you weaken and fade from your hunger. You thought you would hurt me with your need. I finally managed to convince you, but the circumstances were very different.
Before Gonzaburo, it was simply part of our relationship as brothers, something as common as kissing away bruises and cuddling after nightmares. After going with that bastard, you seemed to gain a sense of shame about it, perhaps even fearing that entire side of your nature. Instead of a few times a week, you only drank once a month, and only from the bruises already left by Gonzaburo. That part I didn't mind so much, when you drank from those bruises the swelling reduced and it also had the effect of a mild painkiller, easing the pain. Your bites didn't simply numb the hurt, but were becoming mildly pleasant too.
I blame that period for a lot of things now. You were basically starving yourself for my sake, it's no wonder that you are so small and look so young today.
In a way, however, I'm glad that bastard found out that you were a dampyre. He called me into his office that day and told me he had been watching us and exactly what he thought of it. He wasn't going to simply send you away, he was going to call in some hunters to kill you. If he hadn't told me that, I would never have had the impetus to kill him. That is something I will never regret; you are worth far more than any other person in this world.
I smile at you. Like my smile, this event is something others will never see, something only to be shared between us. Your humanity has waned and the vampiric side of your nature has taken precedence in your features. Your skin has paled from a light tan to an ivory white, your face is even more striking surrounded by your wild mane of hair. Your fangs peek out as you bite your trembling, crimson lip. Your eyes, most especially, have taken on an unearthly, hypnotic sparkle. You're gorgeous.
I draw you into my arms and cuddle you like we did as children. You're stiff for a moment, then relax, melting into the embrace. But you tense up again when I strip off my turtleneck. "No" you whisper, pushing me away.
I smirk as I pull you back to me. Although normally you could push me away, the effects of deprivation have weakened you, meaning I can easily stifle your attempts to get away. "Yes" I say, arching back, bringing your mouth closer to my carotid artery. "You need it." You hesitate, but I know you'll eventually give in. I can feel your breath against my skin, nervous and quick, shallow and cool. You murmur something but it's too low for me to decipher it.
A sharp prick!
You have no idea what it's like for me to experience this. You think there is pain or at best a slight numbness. You think this is unpleasant for me, that you're hurting me.
If only you knew.
For a while now, things haven't been the same. When that bastard first died, the effects of this draining were soothing, numbing. But as we've both grown older they've changed. Aside from that first penetration of your needle-like fangs, there's no pain at all. Instead a warm sensation begins to creep through my body. But that's not all. I become more and more focused on you; my hearing fades and my eyes close as every nerve in my body is stimulated. Phantom touches spark electricity all over my body and flashes of heat and cold heighten the sensation. Every place where you press against me feels as if it were on fire. As the heat and pressure begins to overwhelm me, I'm close, so close . . .
. . .
I nearly scream when you pull away. "No" I groan, tangling my fingers in your hair, pulling your mouth back down to my neck. "Please . . . don't stop . . . " You lean away, strenghtened enough to resist me. "No" you whisper. "I don't want to hurt you."
I take a few deep breathes and look up. A trickle of my blood leaks from your mouth and before I can stop myself I stretch up, licking your face clean before plunging between your lips. You let me kiss you deeply as I run my hands along your spine, trying to relax after the experience. Falling back, I notice we're both drenched in my sweat. "Sorry" I pant. "Do you mind?"
"No, go ahead."
I quickly lock the door after entering Mokuba's bathroom. Licking my lips as I strip off my pants and socks, I can still taste the remnants of our kiss, a mix of my blood and his own taste. I start the shower, allowing the warm drops to massage my back. With my eyes closed, I run my hands up my side, before touching the quickly fading bruise just above my clavicle. By tomorrow, the only sign of what has occurred will be gone, for tonight, however, brushing my fingertips over the spot sends shivers through my body.
I can't linger over this. Even if not for my own body's desperation for release, if I allowed myself to truly savor it, Mokuba would get worried. Or worse, he might begin to suspect exactly how much I enjoy these Friday night sessions and hate me. So instead of indulging myself in a fantasy about what just occurred, I quickly grasp myself with one hand, the other going to that spot on my neck. I set up a quick rhythm, reminding myself of the pleasure of holding Mokuba so close, and running my other hand along the sensitive bruise.
With my eyes closed, I can still see my brother's face in front of me. I see him as human as any other child in his school. I see him sad, fearful, worried and happy. I see his humanity slip away, see him consumed by his lust for blood. And I see him wanting me, not simply needing me, wanting me the way I want him. That is the most powerful image of all.
I gasp as I come hard. The combined effects of the blood loss, the steam from the shower and my orgasm make me light-headed. I allow the water to wash away my sweat and semen while I catch my breath. When I finally do, I take some of my brother's soap and shampoo, and scrub away the final traces of what I've done.
When I come out again, you're still sitting on the bed. "Done?" you ask me.
"All yours."
As you go in, I lie back on your bed. Your human side has reemerged, the vampiric part of your nature waning. Your skin has once again regained a light tan and a healthy flush, your fangs have receded, the sparkle in your eyes has lost its supernatural aspect. Your so incredibly beautiful like this, but I can't help looking forward to next Friday, when your hunger will again bring your vampirism into ascendance. And you will once again be forced to accept what I offer to you.
You enter the room again, having changed from the sweat-soaked clothes you were wearing into your blue pajamas. I open my arms and you happily cuddle up against me, taking some form of comfort from my presence. I switch off the light and hold you closer, feeling your breath against my clavicle.
I know this cannot last forever. Perhaps one day you will look into my eyes and realize that it is more than brotherly love that drives me to make these sacrifices for you and be repulsed by me. Or maybe it will be your hunger that ends this. I started studying extensively on the subject when I realized the consequences of what we do. I know that despite your self -deprivation, you cannot stave off growing up indefinitely. Although puberty seems many years away from now, eventually it will come and with it will come a far greater hunger than what you experience now as the last of your humanity slips away from you. What will you do then, when these weekly sessions can no longer sustain you? Will you stop, perhaps seeking medicinal blood or going out and taking what you need from strangers? Or will you not realize what's going on, not until it's too late and you have drained me beyond the point of safety? I must admit, I would not mind dying in your embrace; after all my life is worth no more than the others you may pray upon to satisfy yourself. Yet I hope, should ever the day come, that you would allow me to join you in your nocturnal life, allow me to share everything with you. Your hunt, your body, your love.
That is my one true desire.
Niu Shiy-Ue
If Yu-Gi-Oh were mine, Joey wouldn't win as many duels as he does. Sorry, but just not my favorite character.
AU, plus the usual for this list, shota, incest. Some blood, but this isn't a really graphic fic. Some psychological rape and masturbation, but no real intercourse.
R/NC-17 not sure but somewhere between those two.
SetoxMokuba, some SetoxSeto
Nope
Going to be MM.org, if I ever find my password again.
Some Kaiba history, but this is AU so you shouldn't take it as canon.
Vamp fic, no real plot. Oh and for once, Seto has not been raped by Gonzaburo! That's rare.
Friday nights I make a point of coming home early. 8 PM may not be considered early to some, however given that I usually don't come home till 11 or not at all, this is quite a deviation from the rest of the week.
Getting home, I change from shoes to slippers and hand my trench coat to the servant to be put away. "Where's Mokuba?" I ask as I put away my metal briefcase.
"He went to bed already. He said it's been a long week." I nod then dismiss her. Friday is the staff's day off; I keep a security detail on the grounds, but most of the servants have already left by noon. I then go to heat up the meal that the cook has prepared for me, normally I wouldn't bother with dinner at all, but Fridays are always a special case.
Having finished, I make my way up to Mokuba's bedroom. Peeking in, I'm not surprised that he is already in bed. Normally he'll wait up till 10 or 11 for me to get home, however he always seems to want to avoid me on Fridays. I slip in and lock the door; he tenses at the sound of the lock clicking, but attempts to feign sleep. Amused I allow him his deception for a while, making my way over to his bed. He turns away from me, so I busy myself with his long black hair, running my hands through it. "How was school?"
He stays silent for a while, but eventually answers me. "It was fine. We changed PE today, no more swimming, instead we're doing track."
I nod, distracted by the fine texture of his hair. "Are you going to ignore me all night?" He turns around and my breath catches in my throat.
It all started before you were even born.
It's amazing how much we can miss of the world till it comes up and smacks us in the face. That's what happened to us. Mother was coming home from the doctor's when she was attacked by a vampire. Vampires had just been ghost stories for me until that point. She nearly died, which is ironic since she had just confirmed that she was pregnant with you. What was supposed to be a joyful event eventually became a tragedy. She survived, but only as a vampire herself. She struggled so hard during those months of her pregnancy, trying desperately to remain human for your sake. It took its toll, and she passed away as you were coming into the world.
Father blamed you. He didn't hurt you or anything, instead he just ignored you, or to be more precise, that particular side of you. He did everything a normal father does: fed you, bathed you, made sure you were safe. But you weren't a normal baby; you were affected by the attack on Mother as well.
You were a dampyre.
Before she died, Mother had entrusted me with your care. And that meant when Father ignored you, when you burned in the noonday sun, when you cried for blood, I was there.
Blood. That seems to be the most important part of it in my mind.
It never seemed to be a big thing. Unlike most infants, you already had a handful of teeth, including your fangs. The first few times I really didn't know what I was doing, just acting on the few ghost stories I remembered. Every day after school I'd pick you up from your bassinet and held you to my neck and let your instincts take over. And those times ~hurt~, you didn't know any better. Later as more of your teeth came in, I'd let you nibble on the tips of my fingers, allowing you small drops to calm you down.
By the time we were sent to the orphanage, we already knew more about this side of you. It seemed like such a normal part of our lives. You didn't need to draw from me more than twice a week, and you usually chose to drink from my wrist rather than my neck. You learned how to make it stop hurting me, using the mild anesthetic properties of your saliva to numb the pain to a pleasant warmth. We even had learned to hide it from the adults; we learned that from our intolerant relatives.
We may have been good at hiding it, but the other children at the orphanage always seemed to know that ~something~ was different about you. You were a constant victim of both bullies and just teasing in general. That's when I started sticking up for you, after all I knew you were special even if the others only saw you as something to be feared and attacked.
Looking back, I'm still not sure I would have challenged Gonzaburo Kaiba if I had known what would happen in the future. I admit, going with him gave me the best resources to protect you, on the other hand, had we gone with someone else, it might have been better for the both of us. In any case, coming here meant a change for the worse in our lives.
I'm not sure how you learned of the beatings. I did my best to hide what happened from you, but somehow you knew. Perhaps it was merely a manifestation of your growing power. Either way, you began to withdraw from me, from ~us~.
I had always viewed your requirement for blood and my supplying you with it as an integral part of our relationship. When the beatings started, you tried to destroy that part. You refused to drink from me, even as I saw you weaken and fade from your hunger. You thought you would hurt me with your need. I finally managed to convince you, but the circumstances were very different.
Before Gonzaburo, it was simply part of our relationship as brothers, something as common as kissing away bruises and cuddling after nightmares. After going with that bastard, you seemed to gain a sense of shame about it, perhaps even fearing that entire side of your nature. Instead of a few times a week, you only drank once a month, and only from the bruises already left by Gonzaburo. That part I didn't mind so much, when you drank from those bruises the swelling reduced and it also had the effect of a mild painkiller, easing the pain. Your bites didn't simply numb the hurt, but were becoming mildly pleasant too.
I blame that period for a lot of things now. You were basically starving yourself for my sake, it's no wonder that you are so small and look so young today.
In a way, however, I'm glad that bastard found out that you were a dampyre. He called me into his office that day and told me he had been watching us and exactly what he thought of it. He wasn't going to simply send you away, he was going to call in some hunters to kill you. If he hadn't told me that, I would never have had the impetus to kill him. That is something I will never regret; you are worth far more than any other person in this world.
I smile at you. Like my smile, this event is something others will never see, something only to be shared between us. Your humanity has waned and the vampiric side of your nature has taken precedence in your features. Your skin has paled from a light tan to an ivory white, your face is even more striking surrounded by your wild mane of hair. Your fangs peek out as you bite your trembling, crimson lip. Your eyes, most especially, have taken on an unearthly, hypnotic sparkle. You're gorgeous.
I draw you into my arms and cuddle you like we did as children. You're stiff for a moment, then relax, melting into the embrace. But you tense up again when I strip off my turtleneck. "No" you whisper, pushing me away.
I smirk as I pull you back to me. Although normally you could push me away, the effects of deprivation have weakened you, meaning I can easily stifle your attempts to get away. "Yes" I say, arching back, bringing your mouth closer to my carotid artery. "You need it." You hesitate, but I know you'll eventually give in. I can feel your breath against my skin, nervous and quick, shallow and cool. You murmur something but it's too low for me to decipher it.
A sharp prick!
You have no idea what it's like for me to experience this. You think there is pain or at best a slight numbness. You think this is unpleasant for me, that you're hurting me.
If only you knew.
For a while now, things haven't been the same. When that bastard first died, the effects of this draining were soothing, numbing. But as we've both grown older they've changed. Aside from that first penetration of your needle-like fangs, there's no pain at all. Instead a warm sensation begins to creep through my body. But that's not all. I become more and more focused on you; my hearing fades and my eyes close as every nerve in my body is stimulated. Phantom touches spark electricity all over my body and flashes of heat and cold heighten the sensation. Every place where you press against me feels as if it were on fire. As the heat and pressure begins to overwhelm me, I'm close, so close . . .
. . .
I nearly scream when you pull away. "No" I groan, tangling my fingers in your hair, pulling your mouth back down to my neck. "Please . . . don't stop . . . " You lean away, strenghtened enough to resist me. "No" you whisper. "I don't want to hurt you."
I take a few deep breathes and look up. A trickle of my blood leaks from your mouth and before I can stop myself I stretch up, licking your face clean before plunging between your lips. You let me kiss you deeply as I run my hands along your spine, trying to relax after the experience. Falling back, I notice we're both drenched in my sweat. "Sorry" I pant. "Do you mind?"
"No, go ahead."
I quickly lock the door after entering Mokuba's bathroom. Licking my lips as I strip off my pants and socks, I can still taste the remnants of our kiss, a mix of my blood and his own taste. I start the shower, allowing the warm drops to massage my back. With my eyes closed, I run my hands up my side, before touching the quickly fading bruise just above my clavicle. By tomorrow, the only sign of what has occurred will be gone, for tonight, however, brushing my fingertips over the spot sends shivers through my body.
I can't linger over this. Even if not for my own body's desperation for release, if I allowed myself to truly savor it, Mokuba would get worried. Or worse, he might begin to suspect exactly how much I enjoy these Friday night sessions and hate me. So instead of indulging myself in a fantasy about what just occurred, I quickly grasp myself with one hand, the other going to that spot on my neck. I set up a quick rhythm, reminding myself of the pleasure of holding Mokuba so close, and running my other hand along the sensitive bruise.
With my eyes closed, I can still see my brother's face in front of me. I see him as human as any other child in his school. I see him sad, fearful, worried and happy. I see his humanity slip away, see him consumed by his lust for blood. And I see him wanting me, not simply needing me, wanting me the way I want him. That is the most powerful image of all.
I gasp as I come hard. The combined effects of the blood loss, the steam from the shower and my orgasm make me light-headed. I allow the water to wash away my sweat and semen while I catch my breath. When I finally do, I take some of my brother's soap and shampoo, and scrub away the final traces of what I've done.
When I come out again, you're still sitting on the bed. "Done?" you ask me.
"All yours."
As you go in, I lie back on your bed. Your human side has reemerged, the vampiric part of your nature waning. Your skin has once again regained a light tan and a healthy flush, your fangs have receded, the sparkle in your eyes has lost its supernatural aspect. Your so incredibly beautiful like this, but I can't help looking forward to next Friday, when your hunger will again bring your vampirism into ascendance. And you will once again be forced to accept what I offer to you.
You enter the room again, having changed from the sweat-soaked clothes you were wearing into your blue pajamas. I open my arms and you happily cuddle up against me, taking some form of comfort from my presence. I switch off the light and hold you closer, feeling your breath against my clavicle.
I know this cannot last forever. Perhaps one day you will look into my eyes and realize that it is more than brotherly love that drives me to make these sacrifices for you and be repulsed by me. Or maybe it will be your hunger that ends this. I started studying extensively on the subject when I realized the consequences of what we do. I know that despite your self -deprivation, you cannot stave off growing up indefinitely. Although puberty seems many years away from now, eventually it will come and with it will come a far greater hunger than what you experience now as the last of your humanity slips away from you. What will you do then, when these weekly sessions can no longer sustain you? Will you stop, perhaps seeking medicinal blood or going out and taking what you need from strangers? Or will you not realize what's going on, not until it's too late and you have drained me beyond the point of safety? I must admit, I would not mind dying in your embrace; after all my life is worth no more than the others you may pray upon to satisfy yourself. Yet I hope, should ever the day come, that you would allow me to join you in your nocturnal life, allow me to share everything with you. Your hunt, your body, your love.
That is my one true desire.