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Just to make this community not dead anymore...
And hi. I'm new. And I bring tendershippy fic love.
Name: Thinking of you.
Author: flamingkitsune
Rating: G? PG-ish? I duno.
Summary: Ryou gets news of his father dying, and assumes that now, no one is left to love him. His Yami knows otherwise.
Disclaimers: I don’t own Yuugioh. Never have. (If I did, do you think I would’ve let 4Kids have it? Nuh.) Therefore I don’t own either of the Bakurae. D:
&&&
His eyes moved from the papers strewn across the top of the desk to the mirror. There, on the reflection of his bed, lay Yami Bakura, brown eyes half-lidded tiredly as he stared at the ceiling.
“How long are you going to stare at that letter?” Ryou’s dark side asked coldly. Ryou glanced backwards at his bed to see that no one was there. He looked to the mirror again.
“I don’t know… until I believe it, I guess…”
Bakura shifted on the bed as if uncomfortable. “If that’s the case, then hurry up.”
Sigh. “I… I just don’t… how could father die?”
“In a very gruesome and unfortunate excavation accident. Am I the only one who was paying attention when you read that thing over, oh, a good three million times?”
“I know, but…” The hikari’s eyes were brimmed with stinging tears. “Mother, and Amane, and-and now him… I don’t want to be…” Alone, Ryou thought, but didn’t want to say it.
“That’s an incredibly stupid thing for you to say.” Bakura snorted disapprovingly.
“What…?” Sniff.
“You think loudly.” He sat up. “Alone? You’re not alone, hikari. Unless you’re stupid enough - and I wouldn’t put it past you - to think that all I am is some goddamned… mental disorder,” He hissed, crossing his arms and glaring at Ryou from the bed reflection.
Ryou’s eyes lowered to the floor. “That’s not what I meant…” A single tear rolled down his cheek and the white haired, crying hikari looked up and into the face of his yami, who had evidently decided to switch to spirit form.
Bakura frowned contemplatively as he reached to wipe Ryou’s tear away with his thumb. “What did you mean, then?”
Ryou was quiet for a painful moment. “Do… do you remember your family, yami?”
“Huh…” He slid his hands into his pockets and looked towards the wall. “If having the images of their dead, burning, mutilated bodies permanently burned into my mind and relentlessly torturing me is remembering them, then yes, I do.” He answered coolly. “Why?”
Ryou thought about what his darker had just said, trying to imagine how that must have felt. …he decided he didn’t want to think about it anymore. “Did… did you feel, after they all died, alone…? Like, that now there’s nobody left to love you?”
Bakura was silent for a long moment. “…I’m familiar with the feeling.”
“That’s what I meant…” Sigh.
Bakura returned to the bed - this time the physical one - and flopped down on it. Ryou gave the letter a last glance and followed, sitting with his legs crossed beside his yami on the dark blue comforter.
There’s no one left to love me…
White mixing with black in the back of his mind, a voice entering his consciousness that was oh-too-familiar as his yami stared at him… You’re wrong.
Silence.
Tears.
“Damn it yadonushi, don’t start crying.”
“I can’t help it…”
Bakura’s translucent spirit-form hand caressed Ryou’s own, physical, pale flesh-and-blood hand and he immediately felt Ryou’s body shiver. He gave him an inquiring look. “What?”
“You’re… you’re cold.”
Bakura pulled his hand away.
“Why are you so cold?”
Shrug. “I don’t know.”
There was a long, drawn out silence that was only broken each time the clock on the wall ticked. Both Bakuras sat on the bed, the lighter with his hair covering his eyes that were wet with tears, the darker lying lazily across the width of the bed. His legs hung over the side as he stared at the ceiling in contemplation. Ryou could hear a faint sound, almost as if someone was saying something to him quietly from the next room.
Ryou glanced at his yami. “What are you muttering… in the back of you head…?”
Bakura’s attention snapped away from the ceiling and his eyes met Ryou’s. The muttering stopped.“Nothing.”
“You won’t tell me?”
Bakura sat up. “No I won’t.”
Ryou deflated and stared at his feet.
“I’ll show you.” Bakura moved himself around so that he was sitting directly behind his hikari. He put his arms around him and Ryou’s eyes widened in surprise.
His yami was… warm.
“You’re not cold anymore…” Ryou said quietly.
“I was hoping it would work…” His darker smiled.
“How…?”
“I was thinking…” He whispered into his ear, “…about you.” Bakura kissed his hikari gently.
Ryou stared ahead at nothing, and then his gaze moved to the letter on the dresser. And he realized…
There is someone left to love me.
And just as before, a faint voice in the back of his mind… I love you. And I will never leave you…
And with that, his father’s death, the letter, they were cleared from his mind as he kissed his yami back.
&&&
The end, biznatches.
Woot.
And hi. I'm new. And I bring tendershippy fic love.
Name: Thinking of you.
Author: flamingkitsune
Rating: G? PG-ish? I duno.
Summary: Ryou gets news of his father dying, and assumes that now, no one is left to love him. His Yami knows otherwise.
Disclaimers: I don’t own Yuugioh. Never have. (If I did, do you think I would’ve let 4Kids have it? Nuh.) Therefore I don’t own either of the Bakurae. D:
&&&
His eyes moved from the papers strewn across the top of the desk to the mirror. There, on the reflection of his bed, lay Yami Bakura, brown eyes half-lidded tiredly as he stared at the ceiling.
“How long are you going to stare at that letter?” Ryou’s dark side asked coldly. Ryou glanced backwards at his bed to see that no one was there. He looked to the mirror again.
“I don’t know… until I believe it, I guess…”
Bakura shifted on the bed as if uncomfortable. “If that’s the case, then hurry up.”
Sigh. “I… I just don’t… how could father die?”
“In a very gruesome and unfortunate excavation accident. Am I the only one who was paying attention when you read that thing over, oh, a good three million times?”
“I know, but…” The hikari’s eyes were brimmed with stinging tears. “Mother, and Amane, and-and now him… I don’t want to be…” Alone, Ryou thought, but didn’t want to say it.
“That’s an incredibly stupid thing for you to say.” Bakura snorted disapprovingly.
“What…?” Sniff.
“You think loudly.” He sat up. “Alone? You’re not alone, hikari. Unless you’re stupid enough - and I wouldn’t put it past you - to think that all I am is some goddamned… mental disorder,” He hissed, crossing his arms and glaring at Ryou from the bed reflection.
Ryou’s eyes lowered to the floor. “That’s not what I meant…” A single tear rolled down his cheek and the white haired, crying hikari looked up and into the face of his yami, who had evidently decided to switch to spirit form.
Bakura frowned contemplatively as he reached to wipe Ryou’s tear away with his thumb. “What did you mean, then?”
Ryou was quiet for a painful moment. “Do… do you remember your family, yami?”
“Huh…” He slid his hands into his pockets and looked towards the wall. “If having the images of their dead, burning, mutilated bodies permanently burned into my mind and relentlessly torturing me is remembering them, then yes, I do.” He answered coolly. “Why?”
Ryou thought about what his darker had just said, trying to imagine how that must have felt. …he decided he didn’t want to think about it anymore. “Did… did you feel, after they all died, alone…? Like, that now there’s nobody left to love you?”
Bakura was silent for a long moment. “…I’m familiar with the feeling.”
“That’s what I meant…” Sigh.
Bakura returned to the bed - this time the physical one - and flopped down on it. Ryou gave the letter a last glance and followed, sitting with his legs crossed beside his yami on the dark blue comforter.
There’s no one left to love me…
White mixing with black in the back of his mind, a voice entering his consciousness that was oh-too-familiar as his yami stared at him… You’re wrong.
Silence.
Tears.
“Damn it yadonushi, don’t start crying.”
“I can’t help it…”
Bakura’s translucent spirit-form hand caressed Ryou’s own, physical, pale flesh-and-blood hand and he immediately felt Ryou’s body shiver. He gave him an inquiring look. “What?”
“You’re… you’re cold.”
Bakura pulled his hand away.
“Why are you so cold?”
Shrug. “I don’t know.”
There was a long, drawn out silence that was only broken each time the clock on the wall ticked. Both Bakuras sat on the bed, the lighter with his hair covering his eyes that were wet with tears, the darker lying lazily across the width of the bed. His legs hung over the side as he stared at the ceiling in contemplation. Ryou could hear a faint sound, almost as if someone was saying something to him quietly from the next room.
Ryou glanced at his yami. “What are you muttering… in the back of you head…?”
Bakura’s attention snapped away from the ceiling and his eyes met Ryou’s. The muttering stopped.“Nothing.”
“You won’t tell me?”
Bakura sat up. “No I won’t.”
Ryou deflated and stared at his feet.
“I’ll show you.” Bakura moved himself around so that he was sitting directly behind his hikari. He put his arms around him and Ryou’s eyes widened in surprise.
His yami was… warm.
“You’re not cold anymore…” Ryou said quietly.
“I was hoping it would work…” His darker smiled.
“How…?”
“I was thinking…” He whispered into his ear, “…about you.” Bakura kissed his hikari gently.
Ryou stared ahead at nothing, and then his gaze moved to the letter on the dresser. And he realized…
There is someone left to love me.
And just as before, a faint voice in the back of his mind… I love you. And I will never leave you…
And with that, his father’s death, the letter, they were cleared from his mind as he kissed his yami back.
&&&
The end, biznatches.
Woot.