anonymous asked:

You and I are the same partner, but yet we are different. Why did you forsake your humanity Chara? That is the only thing that seperares you and I.


The reason you criticize me is because I have accepted what you already knew.

But your suspension of disbelief lets you forget this fact.

The fact that keeps both of our consciences clear.

They don’t exist.

isladi  asked:

Hey! I'm half asleep but I had a prompt idea for whenever, based on that art of Malik and Yami Malik accepting each other and becoming whole, how would Ryou and Y Bakura react to that?? If they were dating seperarely idk I'd love to see your take <3

Sorry this took so long …


Marik came to from another blackout, exhausted and hurting everywhere. There were bone-white hands holding him. He looked up and saw Bakura staring at him with concerned, unhappy expression.

“I’m sorry.” Marik couldn’t look Bakura in the eye. Nevertheless, he saw the bruises on Bakura’s. host’s arms, knew what it meant.

“Malik, you have to do something,” Bakura growled.

“I know. I know. You don’t deserve this-”

“Me?” Bakura hissed. “Fuck that- you. You’re the one I’m worried about.” He winced at the accidental confession, turning away.  

Marik couldn’t help the smile on his face. “Did you really mean that?”

Bakura’s hard, uncaring exterior cracked, crumpling his face in a wash of concern. “Yes. I meant that.”


They lay in bed side by side. Ryou lifted up his arm to display the ugly, brown-blue bruises kissed all up and down his forearm.

“Do you forget it’s my body, too? Or do you just not care?”

Marik’s alter ego’s face collapsed into a shamed expression. “The Spirit makes me mad, and I forget everything.” He sat up, hiding his face in his hands as angry tears fill his palms “I can’t stop it. I try. I try. I think of you and wait as long as I can, but everything goes red and then we’re fighting.”

Ryou sat up beside him, rubbing circles into the small of Marik’s back. “Isn’t there something else we can try? Maybe walking away?”

“I can’t. I hate him! More than I hate Rishid.”

Ryou tilted his head, looking curious. “Why?”

“Because Marik loves him.”

“Is that so bad?” Ryou asks. “Don’t you love me?”

“I’ve told you. You’re the only thing I’ve ever loved. I want to send everything else to the darkness.”

“But he’s part of me.”

“No, he’s not!” Marik’s alter screamed. “You’re not like me and Marik! You’re not the same. You’re separate. We’re the same, and the more Marik falls in love the less angry he is, and the less angry he is…”

He lowered his hands, looking at Ryou with tears running down his cheeks. “I want to exist! I don’t want to disappear! So I have to kill the thief!”

Ryou frowned. “You know what you are.”

“Yes,” his hiss was almost a growl.

“And you know you were created to protect Marik.”

“And I did!”

“Yes. You did. He survived because of you, but…” Ryou’s eyes went from sad to heart broken. “But you also know the healthiest thing for Marik now is to absorb you back into his subconscious. It’s what happens to alter egos once their jobs are done and it’s time for the main ego to heal.”

The tears came more freely, snot glistening around the edges of Marik’s nostrils. “I thought you loved me.”

“I do.” Ryou grabbed his hands and squeezed them.

“Then why don’t you care if I disappear or not?”

“Oh love.” Ryou pulled their hands to his lips, kissing Marik’s knuckles. “I do love you. It’s not that I don’t care. It’s that a believe in you.”

“Believe in me to do what?” Mariik’s alter ego sniffed, trying to keep more snot from running from his nose.

“To keep existing no matter what, even when you’re part of Marik instead of a separate personality. I believe you’ll still  exist within him, and you’ll still love me no matter what.”.


“Try,” Bakura said.

“I’m afraid.” Marik’s lips smiled, but his eyes were glassy. “Isn’t that fucking pathetic?”

“Sure.” Bakura flashed a toothy smirk.

“You’re going to stay with me the entire time, right?”

Bakura nodded his head, his face solemn.

“And if he takes over permanently?” Marik stared at Bakura.

“He won’t. You’re stronger.” Bakura grabbed Marik’s shoulders. “You’re stronger.”

“But if he-”

“Yes.” Bakura clenched his teeth. “I know what you want me to do.”

Marik closed his eyes, kissed Bakura’s mouth, nodded to himself, and then laid on his back, meditating so he could look into his own mind.

He found himself in a room with a screen cutting through the center. Someone stood on the other side, spiky hair silhouetted against the paper wall.

“I’m sorry,” Marik said right away. “I’m sorry. It’s all my fault.”

“It’s not your fault!” his Shadow screamed. “It was father’s fault! He did it! He did it! He deserved to die! We wanted to live!”

“Yes … yes. I know.” Marik reached out, pushing the screen to the side and saw a twisted mirrored image of himself crying.

“I don’t want to die,” his alter ego said.

Marik shook his head. “I don’t want you to die. I need you.” He opened his arms, and his alter crashed into the offered embrace. Marik pet his hair. “Thank you for helping me. Thank you, but it’s okay now. We don’t have to be broken anymore.”

And then they merged.

Marik gasped, his eyes shooting opened and seeing Bakura’s worried face.


“Yeah?” Marik asked, wondering why Bakura looked as confused as he did worried.

“Are you okay?”

A genuine smile graced Marik’s lips. “I am. More So than I’ve ever been.”

“But your hair…”

Marik ran his fingers through his hair. It felt soft and thick to him, but he’d never seen Bakura so skittish before, so Marik stood up and went to his bedroom’s vanity mirror.

His hair wasn’t in spikes, nor was it smooth and flat; It looked wild, wind tousled.


“What happened?” Bakura asked. “You were gone for hours.”

“Hours? It felt like a minute.” Marik stared at himself in the mirror. “We combined.”

He saw Bakura’s reflection walk up behind him, combing bone-white fingers through Marik’s golden hair.

“I like it,” Bakura said.


The next time Ryou saw Marik, his breath stuck in his throat and his heart raced. Marik’s hair was wild, but Ryou wasn’t sure if that meant anything or if he and Bakura had simply had a wild night.

They stared at each other from across the room.

“Marik?” Ryou asked to break the silence.


“I want you to know that … I still love you.”

He didn’t know what he’d do if Marik didn’t respond, die of heartbreak perhaps, but Ryou refused to give up his faith that some of Marik’s other half was with him still.

Marik walked up to Ryou, tracing the arch of Ryou’s cheekbone the same way his alter always did.

“I love you, too, Ryou.”.