Welcome to Michael Jackson Imagines Vol. 3!
This is a book full of erotica and different AUs of Michael Jackson.
I hope you brought your holy beverage or food, you're probably gonna need A LOT.
~*~*~
Awards:
None
Rankings:
None
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
~*~*~
"Yn, he's only going to listen to you because you are his queen."
The words hung in the air like an oppressive fog, thickening the heavy silence that filled the room. Yn's heart pounded in her chest, each beat a desperate plea for clarity in a situation that felt like a fevered dream. Her mind reeled from the weight of David's revelation, the absurdity of his statement crashing over her like a tidal wave.
She instinctively took a step back, half-hidden behind John. John's tall, sturdy frame provided a semblance of security, yet the look of confusion etched across his face mirrored her own. The mummy, once lifeless and preserved in the bowels of history—now stood with an eerie semblance of life, its eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that chilled her to the bone.
"His queen?" Yn whispered, the words barely audible as they slipped from her trembling lips. Her mind raced to grasp the implications, but all she could manage was a voice tinged with disbelief. "David, what are you talking about? How could I be his—?"
John, ever the anchor in turbulent moments, placed a protective hand on her shoulder, his grip firm yet gentle. His eyes, however, never strayed from the mummy, their unwavering focus masking the unease gnawing at his core. "We're gonna figure this out, Yn," he urged, though his voice carried a slight tremor.
But the mummy was not content with their hesitance. It stirred with a newfound energy, its ancient features contorting as if struggling to recall a distant memory. With a labored step, it inched closer to Yn, and though her instincts screamed to flee, she remained rooted to the spot, paralyzed by a bizarre mix of fear and an inexplicable, magnetic pull toward the creature.
Its eyes—once dull and devoid of life—now held a spark of something frighteningly human, a glint of recognition that sent a fresh wave of shivers down Yn's spine. The intensity in its gaze was unmistakable, a silent plea that made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.
"David, what is he saying?" John asked, his voice tight with tension. The mummy's mouth opened, and from it came a stream of guttural, ancient sounds that reverberated through the air—a language long dead, its meaning lost to time.
"I don't know," David replied, his voice tinged with both fear and a morbid fascination. His eyes were wide, darting between the mummy and John. "He's mumbling something—I can't understand it."
The atmosphere grew heavier as the mummy's frustration became palpable, a wave of emotion that transcended the language barrier. His gaze shifted anxiously between the three of them, irritation flashing in his ancient eyes. When he tried to take another step forward, David, though clearly unnerved, raised a shaky hand to signal him to stop. John immediately mirrored the gesture, stepping slightly in front of Yn, his protective instincts kicking in.
