He stood in front of the mirror, worriedly straightening his new robe. It was oddly stiff and itchy, though maybe that came from being used to a different fabric…he almost wished for his old robes now, at least they had been worn soft from use. His family’s best jewelry, the gold passed down from the time of the pharaohs, adorned his neck and wrists, the bracelets slipping as he reached for the hair brush on the table.
What it Takes: Chapter 9-Steps
What it Takes: Chapter 9-Steps
He stood in front of the mirror, worriedly straightening his new robe. It was oddly stiff and itchy, though maybe that came from being used to a different fabric…he almost wished for his old robes now, at least they had been worn soft from use. His family’s best jewelry, the gold passed down from the time of the pharaohs, adorned his neck and wrists, the bracelets slipping as he reached for the hair brush on the table.
![lampurple:
[tonda]](http://25.media.tumblr.com/58ef88b5a10640c95a07cd83ea67ccd2/tumblr_mmjn7ipLbZ1r4ra8xo1_500.png)
Thieves on a Plane
Marik rolled his eyes, flicking a playing card onto Bakura’s tray table. “Just one round?”
Bakura didn’t even deign to look up from his book. “I’ve had enough card games to last me a lifetime. “
“Which one?”
Bakura gave a dark chuckle, licking a finger as he turned the page. “All of them.”
Vagabonds No. 69
Vagabonds No. 69
Amarantines: When Bakura runs screaming down the aisle, on a dare but mostly on a...
When Bakura runs screaming down the aisle, on a dare but mostly on a whim, Malik follows at a steady pace. As a solid poltergeist he does maximum damage to everything around him: boxes of cereal spilling, cans of beans dented as they fall to the floor, and Bakura’s footfalls, thunderously kicking down displays. Lungs filling to bursting, he stands at the end of the shelves and throws his hair back in a scream of joy that’s lost in the vacuum, but not quickly. Like so much of his touch, Bakura leaves a stain in the air that echoes for longer than anyone else could tolerate.
When it ends, he only continues, laughing, touching everything: touching Malik when he comes within range of his hands, touching his face and his eyes and the slick gums under his lip.
“I missed this,” Bakura tells him, hoarse, and it’s the mess or life or the means to make a mess of life itself. Malik doesn’t know.
“I missed you,” he says.
Shower
“We will control the world”
“Not if I kill you first”
Just lighter colour schemes ~
JAPAN IS SO COLD, BAKURAAA ;A;