A Weakness
Author: neolotus
Series: Yu Gi Oh
Rating: R
Pairing: Marik x Bakura
Warnings: Yaoi (yes that means male on male action. If you don't like it, you can shove it.), sex ...masochism...maybe bondage...we'll see feral grin, language, violence. Slight OOC. Angst. You know the drill.
Author's Notes: I never meant for this to be more than one chapter. This was just supposed to be your typical, one chapter, plot-lacking lemon fic. But was I able to pull that off? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo. I had to go and develop this huge plot line! Dammit! Oh yes, and the Millennium items give them slightly different powers in the fic than in the series...
The setting is in ancient Egypt, if you are too dull-witted to pick that up after the first paragraph.
Enjoy 8D please comment or flame (both will be highly appreciated...though in two different ways) when you're done. Thanks!
A Weakness
Chapter 1
A warm breeze swept over the infertile soil of Cairo as dusk settled over the city. The all-powerful Pharaoh, Atemu, slid beneath his silk sheets as a servant blew the candles out and shut the doors of his sleeping chambers. He snuggled down into his pillows and sighed contentedly. He was a little worn out from winning a monster duel, but other than that, there wasn't a worry on his mind. Sleep quickly claimed the King, as it did for the other Egyptians, wrapped up in fine fabrics inside their cozy, clay houses clustered around the palace. Incense smoke drifted down to the Hebrew village while they slumbered fitfully after a hard day of working for the Pharaoh. The camels hunkered down in the stables. Even the Nile seemed to be asleep. The sky turned from magenta, to purple, to an inky navy and the stars stood out like diamonds on velvet in the perfectly pure black night.
The city of Cairo slept.
But in the Valley of the Kings, a tomb guard was restless. Marik paced back and forth, up and down the passageway that opened up to the valley at one end and led to deeper chambers at the other.
"His weakness...his weakness..." Marik hugged his robes around his 17- year-old body with one arm and stroked his chin with his free hand as he paced. "I need to find just one weakness...and I know I can take him down. But what is it? WHAT IS IT?" He pounded one fist into his open palm with pent-up frustration. "Duel monsters? That's the only thing I can think of...but I'd never beat him. Never in a thousand years...five-thousand....maybe." He sighed and slumped against the brick of a wall. Marik pulled his knees up to his chest and ran his fingers repeatedly through his palomino hair. "A weakness....a weakness..."
The breeze picked up, winding itself inside the passageway and flirting with the light of the hanging torches. The lights threatened to go out and Marik stood, grumbling something about the graveyard shift and sauntered towards the opening of the passageway. He stepped out into the rapidly cooling night, sucking in the air and gazing up sourly at the stars, then out across the pyramids and sand dunes. He moved to pick up the makeshift[1] door of bound wooden slats but something caught his eye; A dark shadow flickered over a dune and he heard the very faint but very distinct sound of scampering sandals.
"Who's there?" Marik barked authoritatively. No one answered and he drew his dagger from his belt and started sneaking around the side of the pyramid, in the direction he had heard the scampering. He was halfway around the pyramid when he heard sandals slapping against the hard floor of the entrance passageway, followed by the loud, triumphant and almost hysterical laughter of the intruder.
Marik roared with frustration, quickly darted into a small, secret passageway that led from just below the pyramid to the burial chamber. He could intersect the intruder there.
The intruder pounded down the passageways, panting but with a toothy, mirthless grin on his face. "Here ... Here ... It must be here ..." He ducked into a different passage, but was knocked to the ground with an elbow to the stomach.
"You little fucking THEIF!" Marik spat at him, launching himself at the thief, pinning him to the floor.
"AAUGH!" The thief cried out in rage, writhing underneath the tomb guard, hoping to strike at his assailant with one of his flailing limbs.
"That's enough!" Marik's voice rang with power inside the narrow cavern. He held his dagger to the thief's throat.
The intruder immediately stilled, feeling the bite of cold steel at his jugular and realizing he could not reach any of his own weapons with the guard's knees pinning his arms.
Marik studied the thief. "Oh, Ra! You're just a boy!" He exclaimed, even though the thief looked about the same age as he was. He was stunningly beautiful, despite his dirty and ragged white tunic and brown pants. His long silver hair fanned out around his head like a halo and his sweaty bangs clung to his long eyelashes, framing his brown eyes. "What are you after? There aren't any treasures in here!" This thief must have been very naïve to not notice that the Pharaoh was not dead, therefore, there would be no burial treasures and offerings in the tomb.
"The Rod..." The thief wheezed out (it was hard for him to breathe as one of Marik's knees was firmly planted on his chest). "I came for the Rod..."
Marik feigned a lack of knowledge of the Millennium Rod. "What are you talking about, Thief?"
"Bakura."
"What?"
"My name...is not Thief...it's Bakura."
Marik stared at the thin boy, hesitating between calling Isis or Shadi for help or slicing the boy's throat right there. Marik didn't particularly like the idea of slicing his throat... it would be a horrible mess to clean up afterwards.
Bakura sensed the guard's hesitation, and seizing the opportunity, he flipped Marik up and off of him and slammed him into a wall. He pulled a serrated knife from his belt, this time he had Marik's life in his hands. Marik struggled against him, opening his mouth to scream for Shadi.
"Don't." Bakura hissed, pressing a hand over Marik's mouth. He put a little pressure on his blade, just enough to draw a thin line of blood ("MMMBBFF!!!) to Marik's tan skin. "Now show me where the Rod is."
Marik's eyes widened and he nodded slightly.
"Good." Bakura's eyes glinted victoriously. He loosened his hold on the tomb guard to allow him to reveal the hiding place of the treasure he sought. In swift, liquid motion, Marik knocked Bakura's arm holding the knife away from him with his elbow, dropped to a squatting position and spin-kicked Bakura's ankles.
Bakura's knife clattered to the stone floor as he stumbled to his hands and knees. Marik prepared to pounce on him for a second time, but Bakura wasn't that slow.
"Why, you little BITCH!" Marik growled as he and Bakura tumbled and scrabbled on the floor. Marik rolled on top of Bakura and squeezed his hands around Bakura's neck. "Tell me who sent you!" Surely this kid had to work for someone of high power, his logic told him, if he knew about a treasure that only he and his family were supposed to know about.
Bakura bit down hard on Marik's shoulder. Marik suppressed a cry of pain and tightened his hold around the would-be tomb robber's neck. "Tell me who sent you!" He started pounding Bakura's shoulders and head into the cold floor. "Or I'll take you to the Pharaoh!"
Bakura started laughing. Blood stained his teeth and more dripped onto his face and throat as it slid down Marik's shoulder. "I already...work...for him." Bakura panted out between his head hitting the floor.
"What?" Marik cried incredulously. He stopped abusing the bi- shounen's silver head. The Pharaoh had hired a thief to rob his own tomb guards? He stared at the brown-eyed boy, grinning that silly, bloody smile and looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.
"You are accusing the Pharaoh of being corrupt?" Marik sat back on his haunches. Bakura just laughed some more, licking blood up from around his mouth. Marik suddenly felt a slightly hard ... something ... prodding his thigh. His eyes widened and he quickly pulled his face into a cringe. He pulled Bakura up by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the wall. "You're sick."
Bakura just chuckled some more. He didn't seem ashamed at all... he seemed rather psychotic, Marik noted. Not that he should be accusing somebody else of being psychotic. Bakura didn't struggle, just leaned casually between Marik and the wall. "You taste...bitter. But I like it." He said hoarsely.
"Stop that." Marik said in warning voice as Bakura dipped his head to lick the wound that he had inflicted upon the guard.
"You know you like it..." Bakura hissed on his ear. Marik chose to ignore his comments, noticing that he had stopped struggling. He must be growing tired, he thought. If he could just find something to bind him with he could take him captive...
Marik let out a small cry of surprise when he found himself suddenly in Bakura's former place – pinned.
"What's your name?" Bakura inquired conversationally.
"Why should I tell you, vermin?" Marik said hatefully, indigo eyes narrow.
"Can you please just tell me?" Bakura whined playfully, still grinning.
"No." Marik glared at him. He struggled against Bakura to no avail.
"Tsk!" Bakura said, with one arm against Marik's neck, threatening to strangle him. "It's a pity I'll have to kill you. I've never met somebody who matched my strength before. And you have such pretty eyes, too...But that's what you get for standing in my way of a Millennium Item."
"Match?! I'm positive my strength surpasses yours!" Even with the lack of oxygen to his brain, Marik still managed to be obnoxious.
Bakura scoffed, raising his dagger. Marik shot an uppercut to Bakura's jaw. Bakura stumbled back and Marik jumped on him, bringing them both to floor. They rolled across the floor, until they slammed into a locked door of a chamber. Marik suddenly froze – he felt a strange tickling sensation on his forehead, as if someone was gently caressing his skin. The feeling deepened, as though his invader was stroking his brain. Alarmed, he looked down at Bakura, whose eyes were glazed over and his pupils dilated. He found that he could not move his body.
"Just relax, Marik Ishtar." Bakura's voice came out monotonous.
/How does he know my name?!/ Marik's inner voice panicked. /Is he reading my mind?!/
Bakura let out a mocking, barking laugh, though not breaking from his trance. "Yes, yes I am. Does that make you uncomfortable?"
/Fuck you./ How dare he invade his private thoughts! Marik's mind raced, trying to think of some way to break Bakura's trance that was rendering him immobile.
Bakura grinned maniacally. He gripped Marik's shoulders and effortlessly moved him off him and into a sitting position. Bakura pushed deeper, past Marik's consciousness into his memories. He reached what he was looking for – Marik, as a small boy, a shadowed man holding the Millennium Rod in front of him...it began to glow and the room started to vibrate as the power of the Rod was called upon...the small boy screamed – Bakura pulled out of the depths of Marik's mind, though still keeping him in a paralysed state. A golden ring rose on its own accord from beneath Bakura's tunic, the dangling ornaments lifted to point towards the door Marik was propped against. "This is the room...It is so close!" Bakura's eyes flashed hungrily and Marik was somewhat aware of the soft shk of the lock coming undone. The door swung open and banged into the wall of the chamber. Completely forgetting Marik, Bakura rushed inside and threw himself over the alabaster chest on the floor of the chamber. He rubbed his cheek lovingly against the lid. "The Millennium Rod...it is finally MINE." He hastily threw the stone lid off the chest as if were made of paper. Bakura stared at the Rod, lying on purple silks, blood and saliva mingling on his chin – he had almost completely lost control in sheer ecstasy. He seized the Rod ("MINE!!") and strode proudly out of the chamber, only to be met with Marik. "Oh there you are, Marik, dear," Bakura waved the Rod non- chalantly. "I hate to bite and run, but I really must be getting this back to my Pharaoh."
Simultaneously, Bakura aimed the Rod at Marik and shot an energy blast at him, while Marik lunged at him, thrusting his dagger deep into Bakura's abdomen.
The last sound Marik heard was the sickeningly satisfying squelching of his blade sinking into Bakura's flesh, Bakura's choking...Marik was unconscious before his head hit the floor.
[1] just wanted to point out that the door is 'makeshift' because the tomb is still under construction as the Pharaoh hasn't died yet.
end of chapter
A/N: don't worry, they're not dead the next chapter will be better...smut and such. Gods, I really enjoy having them kick the crap outta each other. PLEASE REVIEW! It would mean a lot to me. And if you do, please tell me if it was confusing or poorly worded or what have you...that would help me out a lot.
Oh yes, the next chapter will be a bit shorter, methinks, but it should be coming out soon!
Author: neolotus
Series: Yu Gi Oh
Rating: R
Pairing: Marik x Bakura
Warnings: Yaoi (yes that means male on male action. If you don't like it, you can shove it.), sex ...masochism...maybe bondage...we'll see feral grin, language, violence. Slight OOC. Angst. You know the drill.
Author's Notes: I never meant for this to be more than one chapter. This was just supposed to be your typical, one chapter, plot-lacking lemon fic. But was I able to pull that off? NOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooooo. I had to go and develop this huge plot line! Dammit! Oh yes, and the Millennium items give them slightly different powers in the fic than in the series...
The setting is in ancient Egypt, if you are too dull-witted to pick that up after the first paragraph.
Enjoy 8D please comment or flame (both will be highly appreciated...though in two different ways) when you're done. Thanks!
A Weakness
Chapter 1
A warm breeze swept over the infertile soil of Cairo as dusk settled over the city. The all-powerful Pharaoh, Atemu, slid beneath his silk sheets as a servant blew the candles out and shut the doors of his sleeping chambers. He snuggled down into his pillows and sighed contentedly. He was a little worn out from winning a monster duel, but other than that, there wasn't a worry on his mind. Sleep quickly claimed the King, as it did for the other Egyptians, wrapped up in fine fabrics inside their cozy, clay houses clustered around the palace. Incense smoke drifted down to the Hebrew village while they slumbered fitfully after a hard day of working for the Pharaoh. The camels hunkered down in the stables. Even the Nile seemed to be asleep. The sky turned from magenta, to purple, to an inky navy and the stars stood out like diamonds on velvet in the perfectly pure black night.
The city of Cairo slept.
But in the Valley of the Kings, a tomb guard was restless. Marik paced back and forth, up and down the passageway that opened up to the valley at one end and led to deeper chambers at the other.
"His weakness...his weakness..." Marik hugged his robes around his 17- year-old body with one arm and stroked his chin with his free hand as he paced. "I need to find just one weakness...and I know I can take him down. But what is it? WHAT IS IT?" He pounded one fist into his open palm with pent-up frustration. "Duel monsters? That's the only thing I can think of...but I'd never beat him. Never in a thousand years...five-thousand....maybe." He sighed and slumped against the brick of a wall. Marik pulled his knees up to his chest and ran his fingers repeatedly through his palomino hair. "A weakness....a weakness..."
The breeze picked up, winding itself inside the passageway and flirting with the light of the hanging torches. The lights threatened to go out and Marik stood, grumbling something about the graveyard shift and sauntered towards the opening of the passageway. He stepped out into the rapidly cooling night, sucking in the air and gazing up sourly at the stars, then out across the pyramids and sand dunes. He moved to pick up the makeshift[1] door of bound wooden slats but something caught his eye; A dark shadow flickered over a dune and he heard the very faint but very distinct sound of scampering sandals.
"Who's there?" Marik barked authoritatively. No one answered and he drew his dagger from his belt and started sneaking around the side of the pyramid, in the direction he had heard the scampering. He was halfway around the pyramid when he heard sandals slapping against the hard floor of the entrance passageway, followed by the loud, triumphant and almost hysterical laughter of the intruder.
Marik roared with frustration, quickly darted into a small, secret passageway that led from just below the pyramid to the burial chamber. He could intersect the intruder there.
The intruder pounded down the passageways, panting but with a toothy, mirthless grin on his face. "Here ... Here ... It must be here ..." He ducked into a different passage, but was knocked to the ground with an elbow to the stomach.
"You little fucking THEIF!" Marik spat at him, launching himself at the thief, pinning him to the floor.
"AAUGH!" The thief cried out in rage, writhing underneath the tomb guard, hoping to strike at his assailant with one of his flailing limbs.
"That's enough!" Marik's voice rang with power inside the narrow cavern. He held his dagger to the thief's throat.
The intruder immediately stilled, feeling the bite of cold steel at his jugular and realizing he could not reach any of his own weapons with the guard's knees pinning his arms.
Marik studied the thief. "Oh, Ra! You're just a boy!" He exclaimed, even though the thief looked about the same age as he was. He was stunningly beautiful, despite his dirty and ragged white tunic and brown pants. His long silver hair fanned out around his head like a halo and his sweaty bangs clung to his long eyelashes, framing his brown eyes. "What are you after? There aren't any treasures in here!" This thief must have been very naïve to not notice that the Pharaoh was not dead, therefore, there would be no burial treasures and offerings in the tomb.
"The Rod..." The thief wheezed out (it was hard for him to breathe as one of Marik's knees was firmly planted on his chest). "I came for the Rod..."
Marik feigned a lack of knowledge of the Millennium Rod. "What are you talking about, Thief?"
"Bakura."
"What?"
"My name...is not Thief...it's Bakura."
Marik stared at the thin boy, hesitating between calling Isis or Shadi for help or slicing the boy's throat right there. Marik didn't particularly like the idea of slicing his throat... it would be a horrible mess to clean up afterwards.
Bakura sensed the guard's hesitation, and seizing the opportunity, he flipped Marik up and off of him and slammed him into a wall. He pulled a serrated knife from his belt, this time he had Marik's life in his hands. Marik struggled against him, opening his mouth to scream for Shadi.
"Don't." Bakura hissed, pressing a hand over Marik's mouth. He put a little pressure on his blade, just enough to draw a thin line of blood ("MMMBBFF!!!) to Marik's tan skin. "Now show me where the Rod is."
Marik's eyes widened and he nodded slightly.
"Good." Bakura's eyes glinted victoriously. He loosened his hold on the tomb guard to allow him to reveal the hiding place of the treasure he sought. In swift, liquid motion, Marik knocked Bakura's arm holding the knife away from him with his elbow, dropped to a squatting position and spin-kicked Bakura's ankles.
Bakura's knife clattered to the stone floor as he stumbled to his hands and knees. Marik prepared to pounce on him for a second time, but Bakura wasn't that slow.
"Why, you little BITCH!" Marik growled as he and Bakura tumbled and scrabbled on the floor. Marik rolled on top of Bakura and squeezed his hands around Bakura's neck. "Tell me who sent you!" Surely this kid had to work for someone of high power, his logic told him, if he knew about a treasure that only he and his family were supposed to know about.
Bakura bit down hard on Marik's shoulder. Marik suppressed a cry of pain and tightened his hold around the would-be tomb robber's neck. "Tell me who sent you!" He started pounding Bakura's shoulders and head into the cold floor. "Or I'll take you to the Pharaoh!"
Bakura started laughing. Blood stained his teeth and more dripped onto his face and throat as it slid down Marik's shoulder. "I already...work...for him." Bakura panted out between his head hitting the floor.
"What?" Marik cried incredulously. He stopped abusing the bi- shounen's silver head. The Pharaoh had hired a thief to rob his own tomb guards? He stared at the brown-eyed boy, grinning that silly, bloody smile and looking up at him through half-lidded eyes.
"You are accusing the Pharaoh of being corrupt?" Marik sat back on his haunches. Bakura just laughed some more, licking blood up from around his mouth. Marik suddenly felt a slightly hard ... something ... prodding his thigh. His eyes widened and he quickly pulled his face into a cringe. He pulled Bakura up by the collar of his shirt and slammed him into the wall. "You're sick."
Bakura just chuckled some more. He didn't seem ashamed at all... he seemed rather psychotic, Marik noted. Not that he should be accusing somebody else of being psychotic. Bakura didn't struggle, just leaned casually between Marik and the wall. "You taste...bitter. But I like it." He said hoarsely.
"Stop that." Marik said in warning voice as Bakura dipped his head to lick the wound that he had inflicted upon the guard.
"You know you like it..." Bakura hissed on his ear. Marik chose to ignore his comments, noticing that he had stopped struggling. He must be growing tired, he thought. If he could just find something to bind him with he could take him captive...
Marik let out a small cry of surprise when he found himself suddenly in Bakura's former place – pinned.
"What's your name?" Bakura inquired conversationally.
"Why should I tell you, vermin?" Marik said hatefully, indigo eyes narrow.
"Can you please just tell me?" Bakura whined playfully, still grinning.
"No." Marik glared at him. He struggled against Bakura to no avail.
"Tsk!" Bakura said, with one arm against Marik's neck, threatening to strangle him. "It's a pity I'll have to kill you. I've never met somebody who matched my strength before. And you have such pretty eyes, too...But that's what you get for standing in my way of a Millennium Item."
"Match?! I'm positive my strength surpasses yours!" Even with the lack of oxygen to his brain, Marik still managed to be obnoxious.
Bakura scoffed, raising his dagger. Marik shot an uppercut to Bakura's jaw. Bakura stumbled back and Marik jumped on him, bringing them both to floor. They rolled across the floor, until they slammed into a locked door of a chamber. Marik suddenly froze – he felt a strange tickling sensation on his forehead, as if someone was gently caressing his skin. The feeling deepened, as though his invader was stroking his brain. Alarmed, he looked down at Bakura, whose eyes were glazed over and his pupils dilated. He found that he could not move his body.
"Just relax, Marik Ishtar." Bakura's voice came out monotonous.
/How does he know my name?!/ Marik's inner voice panicked. /Is he reading my mind?!/
Bakura let out a mocking, barking laugh, though not breaking from his trance. "Yes, yes I am. Does that make you uncomfortable?"
/Fuck you./ How dare he invade his private thoughts! Marik's mind raced, trying to think of some way to break Bakura's trance that was rendering him immobile.
Bakura grinned maniacally. He gripped Marik's shoulders and effortlessly moved him off him and into a sitting position. Bakura pushed deeper, past Marik's consciousness into his memories. He reached what he was looking for – Marik, as a small boy, a shadowed man holding the Millennium Rod in front of him...it began to glow and the room started to vibrate as the power of the Rod was called upon...the small boy screamed – Bakura pulled out of the depths of Marik's mind, though still keeping him in a paralysed state. A golden ring rose on its own accord from beneath Bakura's tunic, the dangling ornaments lifted to point towards the door Marik was propped against. "This is the room...It is so close!" Bakura's eyes flashed hungrily and Marik was somewhat aware of the soft shk of the lock coming undone. The door swung open and banged into the wall of the chamber. Completely forgetting Marik, Bakura rushed inside and threw himself over the alabaster chest on the floor of the chamber. He rubbed his cheek lovingly against the lid. "The Millennium Rod...it is finally MINE." He hastily threw the stone lid off the chest as if were made of paper. Bakura stared at the Rod, lying on purple silks, blood and saliva mingling on his chin – he had almost completely lost control in sheer ecstasy. He seized the Rod ("MINE!!") and strode proudly out of the chamber, only to be met with Marik. "Oh there you are, Marik, dear," Bakura waved the Rod non- chalantly. "I hate to bite and run, but I really must be getting this back to my Pharaoh."
Simultaneously, Bakura aimed the Rod at Marik and shot an energy blast at him, while Marik lunged at him, thrusting his dagger deep into Bakura's abdomen.
The last sound Marik heard was the sickeningly satisfying squelching of his blade sinking into Bakura's flesh, Bakura's choking...Marik was unconscious before his head hit the floor.
[1] just wanted to point out that the door is 'makeshift' because the tomb is still under construction as the Pharaoh hasn't died yet.
end of chapter
A/N: don't worry, they're not dead the next chapter will be better...smut and such. Gods, I really enjoy having them kick the crap outta each other. PLEASE REVIEW! It would mean a lot to me. And if you do, please tell me if it was confusing or poorly worded or what have you...that would help me out a lot.
Oh yes, the next chapter will be a bit shorter, methinks, but it should be coming out soon!