Yakuza

BY : mokie
Category: Descendents of Darkness/Yami No Matsuei > General
Dragon prints: 9640
Disclaimer: I do not own Descendants of Darkness (Yami no Matsuei), nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Warnings: Torture, rape, abuse, molestation, mentions of child pornography, yaoi, language, yaoi, yaoi, Muraki, yaoi, angst


Pairings: Mur/His, Mur/Tsu, Tsu/His, Hij/His and many others


~Hello! This is one of my many stories of Yami no Matsuei. I absolutely love this anime! I mostly write AU fics with this series, so you're going to be reading many weird stories involving this anime. Anyway, please read the prologue and first chapter and review!

Prologue

Emerald eyes closed, as blood splashed everywhere. The blond teenager could feel the wet substance splash against his body, coating him in the foul substance. A snort was heard next to him, and he was pulled into a strong, muscular chest.

Hisoka opened his eyes, staring into mismatched eyes, one blue and the other silver. He swallowed as he looked away, staring at the body that was limp against the other side of the wall, a large blood stain christening the white, marble walls. A hand was soon at his cheek, stroking the blood that was glistening on the pale, smooth cheeks.

“That imbecile. If he had never touched you, Hisoka, then he would not have died,” the man murmured, licking the blood off his fingers, eyes glinting from the moonlight that framed his figure. “You only belong to me. You. Are. Mine.”

The blond’s eyes flashed toward the taller male’s face, and he began to struggle. He would not give into this disgusting male’s perverted fantasies. Hisoka gasped as a hand slipped down onto his stomach and he let out a whimper.

“Come on, boy, don’t leave me like this.” The man grinded his hips into the smaller boy’s ass, his hard erection straining against his white pants.

“No..Muraki..” Hisoka whispered, beginning to tremble in the male’s arms. Muraki smiled against the soft, blond hair moving his fingers in a soothing circle, feeling the body in his arms slowly go limp, giving into him.

Hisoka went limp, the feelings overwhelming him. The pain in his heart at seeing his teacher on the other side of the room, a large bullet wound through his head, breaking him even more. Muraki didn’t stop at anything. He would absolutely let nobody touch what was his.

The silver-haired man leaned down, picking up the blond, and cradling him to his chest. He stood up, eyes flashing , and began walking down the hallway. He would protect what was his. At all costs. Walking out of the building, a long, sleek, black limo was parked near the sidewalk. A man stepped out of the car, opening the door open to Muraki.

“Is everything all right, Mister Muraki?” the man asked, eyeing the blood that was covering both of the males. Muraki shook his head, placing his possession on the seat. He looked at the man and nodded. “ Get rid of the body. And make sure nobody saw what happened. If they did, kill them.” The man nodded, turning to go start his task.

Muraki got into the car, pulling Hisoka into his lap. The teen’s eyes were closed, his long, black eyelashes standing out on his pale skin.

The man pulled Hisoka close, wrapping his arms around him. He kissed the neck that was presented to him, feeling the blond twitch within his grasp. He smiled. He would mark what was his. He would forever mark him if that was what it took to have people stop touching things that didn’t belong to them without his permission. Opening his mouth, he bit down on the skin that was located between the juncture of his neck and shoulder. Hisoka arched his back, emerald eyes flashing open in pain, a loud cry escaping those delicious lips.

Muraki had his mismatched eyes closed, apparent pleasure flowing throughout his body at the way the blond reacted. He pulled back, licking his lips, a light blood stain staining his pale lips. Hisoka went limp in his grasp, eyes half lidded, the area where Muraki bit him burning.

The silver-haired man smiled, eyes glinting. He nuzzled into the boy’s soft, wheat colored hair, taking a long whiff of the smell. “You will bear my mark forever, Hisoka. You will never get away,” he whispered, kissing the boy’s ear gently. Hisoka swallowed, closing his eyes the rest of the way. It was true. He would forever be bound to this man. Forever bound in this hell with this demon.

As the limo sped down the high way, a blood red moon was burning brightly in the night sky, foreshadowing a new type of horror.


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