mywiilz:For the second prize winner in my give away, hehfoxyboxes! I hope you like it and I really
mywiilz: For the second prize winner in my give away, hehfoxyboxes! I hope you like it and I really love elf Bakura. He is perfect. Your writing is utterly amazing and it made me smile reading the snippet of this drawing. This is what I saw. I didn’t know what time of day this took place so I went on instinct and reckoned it was sunset. Meh. This was lots of fun! SCREAM.This is gorgeous, thank you so much!! What a lovely atmosphere…and I’m going to have to figure out how to work that outfit into things :3To anyone who might be curious, this is an AU setting that I am basing a possible ask blog off of wherein the YGOTAS cast has been thrust into a chaotic universe where fantasy and semi-modern technology coexist. Everyone has had the form/powers of a fantasy creature foisted upon them while there. In this case, Marik has had to get used to the body of a centaur and Bakura has become a wood elf. While I was working out the main points of the plot, a friend of mine said she would disown me if Marik and Bakura did not finally end up together. So I wrote a mini-fic to appease her. At this point in the story, Marik has had his horse-half revoked after managing to horribly offend a tribe of native centaur with his usual Marik-ness. Apparently being turned into a human is the most degrading punishment they can visit upon one of their kin. (Again, set in the Abridged universe, so if that’s not your cup of tea, feel free to skip!) —————————————————————————- Behind him, Bakura heard the shower cease, and the telltale sounds of Marik emerging from the bathroom. If he were to turn just now, he thought, he would be likely to catch a glimpse of the boy’s tanned, wispy body as he went about the business of absently fluffing a towel through his hair before beginning to piece himself into his freshly-stolen outfit. And then Marik would be just as likely to look up, mistake Bakura’s lecherous gaze for concern, and go off on another whining tangent about those sodding centaur they’d run into. Given a few minutes of this, Marik would work himself into a froth all over again and the moment would be spoiled completely, ending in honking sobs, impotent curses, and Bakura wondering for the umpteenth time why he bothered keeping the insufferable Egyptian around. He solved this problem nicely by keeping his gaze focused on the town below them, pale fingertips drumming the balcony’s railing and tapered ears pinned back in agitation. It would take time, but Bakura felt, if he worked at it, he could find and crush out every thought of desire and every stupid daydream he’d entertained about he and Marik becoming more than partners of circumstance. Marik had, after all, said it himself - for as much as they could belittle it, they could not actually CHANGE the events of their series’ plotline. It was all fated to end badly. When Season Five rolled around, Bakura would be gone, and with him would go any hope of a lasting affair between them. It had been a bitter pill to swallow, but the exact medicine that Bakura had needed to start getting his head back in order where Marik was concerned.He had enjoyed a clear mind and a nice balance of indifference for months while Marik had been trapped in that stupid half-horse body. Why should that blonde idiot re-acquiring his human form have any effect on the three thousand years-dead King of Thieves, after all? Simply put, it shouldn’t. And he kept stubbornly telling himself this right up to the point that Marik strode out onto the balcony alongside him, looking quite refreshed. And quite naked.“Bunch of jealous jerks…they can all frig off.” he huffed, placing his hands on his narrow hips in righteous indignation. “I mean, that’s probably why they live out in the middle of the woods when you think about it, Bakura. They can’t stand running into people who are much sexier and have nicer bottoms." "Clearly." Bakura muttered through clenched teeth, finding that his eye had taken on a frustrated twitch as he continually denied it from stealing in Marik’s direction. His gaze found a flower box in a neighboring building’s sill. He focused on it with the single-minded intensity of the truly obsessed to keep from turning his head. Beside him, Marik was oblivious, drawing in a deep pull of the morning air and exhaling it loudly."Oh well. It was fun while it lasted, right? I mean…I AM going to miss being my own sweet ride." He sighed. "Remember that time I asked you to draw a racing stripe on me? I never got to see it, but I’m sure it was awesome. People couldn’t stop staring!" Bakura had, in fact, used the paint given to him to fulfill the other’s request to, instead, scrawl "WASH ME” across the boy’s equine haunches. The next couple of days were spent cackling every time Marik had mistaken a passerby’s puzzled gaze for admiration of his badassery. “You know what?” Marik asked, in what seemed to be a sudden shift of his mind’s gears. “It feels…good to be back to normal. I feel great, actually. Like I could do anything I wanted today." Saying so, he leaned out drastically over the railing, as if trying to guess what it was Bakura was staring at so intently. In the process, his bronzed rear presented itself to the agitated spirit, who’s patience was on its last fraying fiber."You mean like terrorizing the entire town from above with your junk?” Bakura snapped, seizing Marik by the back of his neck to haul him back onto the balcony, and giving him a shove in the general direction of their room. Marik was undeterred, ignoring the blatant hint he ought to go get dressed. “I mean it, Bakura!” he went on, flashing the other a grin. “I wanna be daring! I wanna do something crazy! I wanna ride my bike with no handlebars!" Bakura glowered in reply, making a heroic effort of keeping his eyes on Marik’s face before turning back to resume his vigil on the townscape. "And what, exactly, do you have in mind?” he asked. “I’m sure you might be able to mildly irritate Yugi and his friends if you were to sneak into their homes and loosen the lids on their salt shakers. Or, if you REALLY want to be evil, I suppose we could steal the Pharaoh’s boxer shorts and return them to him dyed pink with a hole torn in the rear…" the sarcasm was practically dripping from his voice at this point. "Or maybe–”He was cut short by a hand alighting on his shoulder as Marik impatiently turned him back around, fixing him with an amethyst glare of his own. “I said ‘crazy’, Bakura. Not 'genius’." he said sternly. The sudden serious tone of his voice gave Bakura pause as he blinked at the boy in surprise. Marik was a mercurial creature, and did everything in extremes - his reactions included. The fact Bakura was not having a tantrum thrown at him right now about never taking Marik seriously was odd. What was even more odd was the fact that Marik’s left hand now joined his right as it placed itself on his opposite shoulder. The boy began to lean in closer as the spirit’s brow furrowed. He couldn’t possibly be about to– "You should probably stop me.” Marik murmured, pausing when their mouths were scant inches from one another. Bakura had no such intention, using his silence as a challenge to Marik to finish what he’d started.A large part of him had expected a last-minute withdrawl from the situation on the egyptian’s part. That, at any second, he would play the whole thing off as an elaborate ruse, sputtering his nonsense about not being gay and insisting Bakura was a real idiot for taking him seriously. And he WAS an idiot, he knew…he must be for not having taken off months ago. Nonetheless, a soft noise of surprise escaped him as warm lips covered his own in a clumsy, but fervent, kiss. -- source link
#marik ishtar#yami bakura#mywillz