Originally published in May 2012. Done for a prompt for laddershipping (Zorc x Bakura) for necrophadesoftheshadows. In this case, Zorc has a temporary human form that interacts with Bakura before he's resurrected.
The Items were piled at their feet in the hot sand of Egypt. They'd come back here—back to the beginning, or at least it seemed so to Bakura, who had followed a pharaoh there to begin the final step of their ultimate plan. But the pharaoh and the brats were off sight-seeing for now. There was no reason not to engage in a little… nostalgia.
Bakura kicked the sand at his feet idly, splayed on the ground and letting a handful of the granules slowly slip through his fist. "It was here, lord? Are you sure?"
"Yes, boy, I'm sure. Or do you doubt the word of your god…?" Zorc was sitting next to him, closer than they normally would have been before Bakura's punishments. It had become more habitual to the King of Thieves to have his god so near now, though, and he did nothing to escape when Zorc had plopped only centimeters from His Glorious Self.
"Of course not, master! It just—it seems so unreal." His gaze became distant. He wasn't looking at the piles of sand in the middle of nowhere in Egypt; he was seeing the houses and half-remembered neighborhoods of Kul Elna in Kemet, flinching at the thought of screams and flames and dried blood crusting into the sand he was holding. He quickly brushed his hands off.
Zorc smiled faintly, his own thoughts also on the past, but hardly on the slaughter that had awakened him. Ku ku ku. No, that bloodshed had been if anything a pleasure to watch, the Shadows of men's souls running rampant with fear or murderousness. The reason for the deaths was of course simply the Millennium Items, but they'd resulted in something additional, and… unexpected.
Zorc reached a hand over to Bakura's thigh, rubbing it softly. Bakura's skin twitched at the touch, and it took all of his willpower to keep from jerking away from the god. That would simply result in another punishment; no, he was learning to worship his god in every way required. Disgusted at the idea or not. His forehead wrinkling at the jarring experience, Bakura slowly leaned in to Zorc's touch.
The god welcomed this, of course, and expected it. His hands—human and not clawed, though they might as well have been, long and chipped as they were—petted the ghost's head patronizingly.
"Who would have thought that simpering child criminal would have become my greatest servant?" he mused absently. "Though it certainly took enough work on my part to get you to this point."
Bakura looked downward, seeming chastened. "I am sorry, lord."
"…It doesn't matter. Soon, this will all be mine, and you will share in it."
A faint smile played at Bakura's lips. "Tell me again of our paradise, my master?"
And Zorc did, happy enough to toy with the Thief's emotions and silently delighted at his childish reverence for the idea. They spoke of the new Kul Elna and their future paradise until the sun had long since gone down.
It was really far too easy to control a child of man.