Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ Shind Oni Kokoro ❯ Angel Tears ( Chapter 3 )

[ X - Adult: No readers under 18. Contains Graphic Adult Themes/Extreme violence. ]

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The icy binds of Yami's magic flickered to nothing as the silhouette of the demon king melded into the night sky.
 
“Damn it!”
 
Marik didn't even flinch at the other's sudden outburst, only narrowed his eyes as his superior sight failed to keep watch over the small boy Yami cradled. They stood, the crunch of dirt and rocks against sharp leather drowning them. Bakura paced, awkward spurts of agitated nerves causing him to jerk one-way then another. The silent watch of violet making him all the more restless as well, the look of calm indifference irritating Bakura to no end.
 
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he snapped. Snow-white hands fisting in the hybrid's jacket, the sleek material growling as Bakura tightened his grip. Marik raised a brow, thin line of gold flashing in the moonlight as he glanced at Bakura's hands. “Yeah, so, who gives a fuck if I'm touching you!” The paler's voice screeched, teeth bared as lips curled into a snarl. “Ryou's gone! Snatched up by that damn, pedophilic, bat-ass of a psycho!” From such a close vantage point, Bakura was able to catch the minute twitch of the other's lips, the faint expression of amusement infuriating him further. “So you don't freakin' care?!” The murky depths of brown narrowed, angry slits gleaming red as Bakura shoved Marik away, the blond stumbling back and glaring at the other.
 
“I do care.” It was quietly spoken, though without anything more than the distant barking of a street dog, it seemed deafening.
 
Bakura stared blankly at the other; the realization that he just heard Marik's voice stunned him. What surprised the white-haired vampire further was the fact he knew he had heard him earlier, but being intoxicated with his Ryou had deemed even such a momentous revelation as nothing more important than the fact the moon was out.
 
“You have a beautiful voice.” Bakura purred, taking slow, predatory steps toward the blond, who seemed slightly surprised at the sudden change in mood, violet widening as he took an unconscious step back before standing rock still. “Yes, it's true.” The pale figure hovered about the blond, nearly touching as he ran fingertips close enough so it seemed as though he were tracing every chiseled curve of Marik's form.
 
The blond slid his eyes closed as Bakura hissed into his ear, cold breath prickling his neck. “Do you remember?” A slender finger pressed roughly against Marik's back, “Beautiful…” violet peeled open and matched the brown gaze with the ancient memories.
 
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“Come on, Beautiful.”
 
Mariku's breath hitched, even in the dark of his room, nestled between dreams, he heard them.
 
“We only wish to play.” A cold snicker followed, quiet promises of fun and games laced with deadly security surrounding the boy, rising in volume until the blond awoke.
 
Then silence.
 
He stared at the nothingness blinding him, ears straining to hear them again. All that answered was his raspy breath, broken and nervous as he wrapped the pathetic reminiscence of a blanket around his small frame.
 
“H-hello?” his childish voice echoed back at him, sandy stones flaking with grains as he pressed his tiny hand against it. There was the sound of sharp breezes cutting through his room, shadows splayed across the wall crawling and slithering closer. Mariku huddled in the center of the bed, worn blanket thrown over his head as his shivering form tucked itself into a ball.
 
“Beautiful…” the voice was laden with surprise and lust, icy fingertips tugging on the boy's blanket.
 
“You heard us?” the other sounded much more cynical, the throbbing power of royalty unmistakable as he hissed at the boy.
 
Mariku whimpered as his blanket was taken, the jagged sound of caught breaths audible and very close. The boy didn't know whether or not his eyes were open, not that it mattered as there were no windows for moonlight and his candle had somehow gone out. Wispy strands of gold hair framed his dark face, violet eyes were catlike, and although young, he was beauty and exotica down to every last strand of sun spun blond.
 
Dark flames lit the barren candle, the sudden intrusion of light stinging the child's eyes.
 
“What's your name?”
 
A simple enough request, though the child quickly reconsidered answering when he opened his eyes and noticed he was face to face with the demon lord from his books. The boy squeaked and scuttled away, cornering himself on his pathetic bed, eyes wide and seeping with fear as the tricolor-haired royal chuckled.
 
“Come now, it's impolite to leave a question unanswered.”
 
Mariku shivered at the voice, it was dead for centuries now, millennia even, and yet the subtle curve of youth remained prominent. The one beside the dead king titled his head, catching the child's attention with the curtain of white tresses that slid over his shoulders and framed the ice white face, slightly crazed brown grinning hungrily at him, irises ringed with flickers of scarlet, signifying he belonged to the tricolor haired demon.
 
“I won't ask again…” blood red eyes narrowed, the malicious intentions brimming in the deadly voice.
 
“Mari…Mariku.” The boy whimpered, wide, violet eyes filling with tears as an ungodly grin twisted the demon lord's lips, venomous bite of snickers rattled from the long, slender throat.
 
“Did you hear that, Bakura?” Hell painted eyes flicked toward the pale shadow beside him, tongue caught between sharpened teeth, bits of bone fined to edges of steel from too many blood soaked meals, tearing through still screaming flesh, and laughing all the while his victims choked from fright and blood and tears.
 
“I like `Beautiful' better, suits him.” Bakura snickered, crawling ever closer to the child and softly smelling him like a jackal would a potential meal, grinning as the boy's breath hitched and stopped altogether. “Can I taste him?” The scarlet ring bled more into the brown as he leaned forward, gently tipping the boy's chin up so his throat throbbed visibly, the splash of his heartbeat quickening when the tricolor haired demon nodded.
 
“Taste, mind you, no penetration…of any sort.” Bakura grumbled at this announcement, but slid his sickly hot tongue across the boy's dark cheek, purring appreciatively at the splendid flavor of scorched sand and summer winds, sweetened with honey and gold and foreign spice.
 
“By Ra…” the white-haired demon slid his eyes shut, the boy, Mariku, he was intoxicating. “Home…” Bakura's raspy voice deepened with lust and familiarity. “Pure, Egypt runs in his veins, Yami, like the Nile itself!”
 
“Does he taste that good?” the smaller of the demons asked, curiosity and jealously masking his face, for how dare anyone other than himself capture his Bakura's attention, and to such magnitude.
 
“Yami, you must…” Bakura took the now shaking boy's hand and held it out to the dark lord, scarlet regarding the small, slender fingers with disinterest before lacing his own fingers with the child's, the clash of moon lit flesh against sun kissed skin angering Yami. He squeezed Mariku's hand until the boy cried out, tears rimming the violet eyes as pallid fingers dug deeper into the back of his hand, his wrist being twisted as Yami chuckled cruelly.
 
Both demons reeled back in horrible shock; Yami had split the boy's skin, the stench of blood crashing against the walls in overwhelming waves. A tiny splotch of red was the only sign of injury; Mariku nursing the sliver left from Yami's nail with a soft kiss, cowering with a tear streaked face as he sniffled.
 
“His blood…” Yami hissed, dark eyes narrowing as he sniffed the air, scent of red growing faint. His blood, his blood…
 
“Yami…what is he?” Bakura hardly dared whisper the question; something was very different about this boy. He wasn't human, not by a long shot, his blood smelled too sweet, too pure…too perfect it made him sick.
 
“His blood.” A short burst of laughter clawed up the smaller demon's throat, ending with a nasty smirk in the child's direction. “I've met his kind before, killed a few, but never…I'm surprised he's not protected, they're such pricks for the safety of their clan, young especially.” Yami slowly sauntered toward the boy again, Mariku shivering and pressing himself against the corner tightly. “Tell me, why aren't you protected like the rest? Born with broken wings?”
 
Strands of gold hung listlessly before the small, dark face, violet peering fearfully at the dead king. “I…I was born after my mother's death.” Mariku's eyes filled once more with tears, although it didn't seem possible, he remembered. “My father had to-”
 
“Gut her like a pig and fish you out?” Yami grinned, leaning down and leveling his gaze with the horrified child. “Her throat was torn open so her breaths came out wet and laden through the hole I'd torn there.” The child's eyes widened further, scarlet laughing maliciously as Yami continued. “Yes, I know who you are now. Pulled out screaming and slicked with your mother's still warm blood, such a tasty morsel newborns are, fresh from the womb and squealing like the boar from whence you came.”
 
“You…you're the one!?” the child screamed, trapped and trembling from fear and previously untapped anger. “You! You killed my mother-”
 
“And father.” The dead lord took great pride in this, flicking his tongue out and savoring memories. “Oh, and he was a tough one. Took you, wrapped you in white linen, fled.” Yami snickered, snatching the boy's wrist and bringing the injured hand up closer, smelling the sweet mix of blood on flesh and purring. “Of course, I couldn't see *them*, you know what I speak of, don't you?” The scarlet-eyed demon fingered Mariku's back, trailing over his shoulder blades and pressing roughly. “Could see him in the air, desperately trying to widen the distance between us, but I couldn't see *them*.”
 
The child squirmed as Yami ran his fingertips over and over on his small back, feeling and searching and failing to find-
 
“Show me!” the demon king grinned, digging his nails into the soft flesh and twisting the boy's wrist. Mariku winced, shaking his head in refusal and yelping when he found himself dangling in the air, Yami glared viciously at the defiant boy. “I've had enough of you're childish games, Mariku. Show *them* to me or I'll find *them* myself.” Scarlet never parted from the boy's violet eyes as Yami held out a hand and quickly grasped the slender handle of a dagger Bakura presented.
 
“Yami…” said demon flicked his gaze toward Bakura. The paler of the demons was Yami's toy, always by the royal's side incase he decided he was hungry for something other than blood. His ghostly white flesh had attracted Yami to him from the beginning; the scarlet-eyed demon saying it made him glow in the moonlight. Although he hadn't been human for centuries now, Bakura still didn't know as much as the other demons, for one he was an outsider, not only because he was Yami's prized fuck pet, but more so because the others could smell his human attributes and raised disgusted noses at him whenever he passed, refusing to speak to the white-haired half-breed unless Yami was there to overlook the conversation. The dark lord allowed no disrespect for what was his, violently taking out his rage at such defiance on those around him. “What is it you ask of him?”
 
The array of tricolor hair quivered from the lord's laughter “You don't know, my dear Kura? Why then, now the boy has even more reason to show us.” Yami shook the frail body and smirked hearing the child whimper.
 
“I…I can't!” Mariku started crying, the bright tears marring his small face as they rolled over his cheek. Yami stopped shaking the boy and regarded him with slight interest. “You killed my father before he could show me how, you should know that!”
 
“Have you no one else as guardians? You're in this sand etched room; someone must have placed you here.”
 
“They say I'm cursed.” The boy sniffled, hearing the names and stinging words of his kind, turning their back on him. “That I wasn't born, they say I should have died, that my father should have left me to suffocate within my mother…that it would have been better that way.” Both demons became genuinely interested, cocking their heads as they listened to each tear, heard its story, knowing the boy was telling the truth. “They say…they say I am one of you.” Yami's brow rose in question letting the child drop to his bed “That I should be your son.” The boy drew his knees up and buried his face in his hands in shame. “All…all because I breathed life at midnight, the moon touched me, not the sun. They say the caress of the moon is curse enough, but to be a dead soul saved from my slain mother intensified it a tenfold.”
 
The demons stayed silent, the soft crying from the boy the only sound in the room. “So they left me here…with humans, saying you would find me eventually and either claim me as your own…or kill me.” Mariku shuddered at both thoughts, looking up tearfully at the demon lord, violet ringed with small veins from his crying, streaks of wet glinting in the candlelight. “And you have…you've found me…”
 
Yami read the boy as best he could, being of parallel nature made the task difficult, but he managed to formulate that the boy was telling nothing but the truth, more importantly, that he feared death less than he feared Yami. “Am I really that frightening?” the demon snickered, eyeing the small boy as he read the child's thoughts. “Kura?” The paler demon quietly strode up beside his master, hands clasped behind his back as he awaited a command. “Would you like to have a companion?”
 
Bakura's eyes widened as he stared at Yami, Mariku gasping in horror. “But!…” violet, panic stricken eyes pleaded with the demon lord. “Don't you rather wish to kill me?! I'm not-”
 
Yami raised his hand and silenced the boy. “Kura?” the pale demon glanced at the child, tasting the fear and anguish of such a decision. He remembered wanting to be with Yami, the vibrant color of his hair and eyes blinding Bakura from the demon's black and rotted soul, the white-haired youth willingly throwing half of himself away to become the dark lord's. But he had made the choice himself, had sought out the bloody eyed demon and all but begged for his transformation, now Yami was giving him the choice for the child's fate…a damning contract for all of eternity.
 
“It's not my choice to make, Yami.” Bakura bowed his head, defying his lord was the last thing he wanted to do, but hadn't Bakura once been a child? Frightened by the tales, the dark, and the very embodiment of hell. Yami's lips twitched, a malicious twist between annoyance and evident knowing. “He's only ten, but a life of infinite darkness should be decided by him regardless of-”
 
“It was a simple `yes' or `no' question, Bakura.” Yami spat in the pale face, hand having snapped out and now squeezing the slender, white throat, fingers digging into the thin skin and tearing through. The slippery feel of blood coated Yami's fingertips as he began to cut through strained muscle; long, thin strands of warm flesh snapping as he tightened his grip. Bakura didn't struggle, not that he would fight his master if he even could. Yami had woven a spell to keep the taller from moving, the brown-eyed demon hanging listlessly by the throat as the other continued to strangle him.
 
“Oh Gods!” Mariku froze, eyes filling with tears as he took in the horrid sight. “Stop it! Leave him alone!” the boy screamed, Yami's attention flew to the blond, eyes sharpened to slivers of red and black as a crack was heard, the pale body of the white-haired demon going limp and dropped to the ground in a heap of crumpled lifelessness. Arms and legs splayed in awkward positions, black-red blood pooling out from the tattered flesh around the broken neck, puddling from the pallid lips, parted as the demon had tried to breathe.
 
Mariku sobbed relentlessly as he stared at the mass of what once was a breathing thing. The demon lord rolled his blood red eyes and licked his fingers clean of the mess he'd made, suckling on one digit as he regarded the small boy. “It's your fault you know.” Yami smirked, reveling in the horror in the child's eyes. “Yes, if you wouldn't have feared becoming one of us, then I needn't have asked Kura.” The blond shut his eyes, tears sticking to gold lashes as he tried to quiet, tried to block the truth, or what was truth once Yami twisted the words and events to his liking. “There is a way…”
 
The boy looked up, violet hopeful, and pleading to know. “A-a way…” he swallowed, gaze flickering toward the broken body of the dead demon. “To…to bring him b-back?”
 
Yami nodded slowly, eyes closed as he turned from the child, the shadows of the room falling from the walls like wisps of smoke and pooling at his feet. “But since you *fear* me too much…it's pointless to even bring it up. Good-bye, Mariku. Burn his corpse or others will come to claim his flesh.” The tricolor demon began to descend into the inky black shadows, melting and becoming a part of the darkness to slither out the room.
 
“No!” the boy covered his mouth after his outburst, shutting his eyes as thoughts struck his mind in relentless torrents. What did he care about one demon's death? They were opposites, enemies tangled in a war of empty meaning. Millions from both sides had died in the past millennia, how many had Bakura killed of Mariku's clan that the boy just didn't know about, how many were saved because he was now dead?…And yet Mariku knew that wasn't reason enough to allow a life, regardless that it was a demon's, it was still a life...taken in Mariku's name. He…Bakura had tried to spare him, tried to give him a rightful choice…and for that he was punished, murdered before the boy's eyes. ”It's my fault…”
 
The scarlet-eyed demon had stopped his descent when shoulder deep in the blackness, pausing for a moment and airily nodding his head in agreement at the child's words, scarlet tipped spikes bobbing, before Yami slipped in completely. “Wait!” Mariku reached out, tears falling freely as he looked toward the black puddle, gasping in fright when two blood red eyes blinked open in the middle of the rippling shadow, visible shivers racking the boy's body.
 
“If you have nothing to say to me, then let me be, Mariku.” Yami's voice hissed, half spoken and half thought, though it didn't matter because the boy could hear him regardless of how the dark lord communicated with him. “I'm ravenous and your indecisiveness irritates me, don't think I wouldn't be willing to feast on you, bring some truth to that silly prophecy your kind has bestowed upon your sunny head.”
 
The violet eyes of the smaller narrowed “You would have torn through me already if you could!” The boy had grown tired of the lord's idleness, he knew the demon had been toying with him, leading him somewhere, now he knew exactly where and was angered he allowed himself to be caught, the realization that he couldn't go back making the child's hatred all the more prominent.
 
A loud growl shook the small room, flecks of sand and gravel falling from the weak walls, dust filming the air. “What does that mean!?”
 
Mariku smirked; suppressed strength and courage surfacing as he shakily stood and looked down at the swirling, black puddle. “I know of the celestial contract, Yami.” The demon lord growled again, hissing as Mariku crouched and matched the bloody eyes with his own glare, the flare of defiance streaking those beautiful orbs of violet. “Earlier you mentioned you had killed many of my kind, and left off at the point that you had `never'…” The small boy's smirk grew, tears rapidly blinked away as he continued, growing satisfaction filling his heart. “The question was, what had you `never' done?”
 
“Enough!” Yami snapped, rumble of annoyance echoing in the room even as the boy spoke again.
 
“The celestial contract, written by your Gods as well as ours, it states that neither species can *taste* the other unless done mutually. That's what you've never done, Yami. You've never *tasted* one of my kind, never been allowed to flick your sick tongue on our flesh and savor a bit of sanity, a sliver of hope…” Mariku leaned even closer to the splotch of shadows, purring quietly into the oily substance, “You've never tasted an angel.”
 
Yami had had enough; he slithered back out of the black pool and appeared on all fours, eyes smoldering with hate and something more, something between satisfaction and admiration, something that unnerved the smaller. “Very good, Mariku.” He chuckled, the sound eventually breaking into hysteric laughter as he grabbed the boy's shoulders and pinned him to the ground, scarlet gaze burrowing into the widened violet. “What made it click? Hm? The fact that half breed Kura licked you and didn't screech in pain as his tongue was scalded, the way pure blooded me would have had I taken up his naive offer and sampled a bit of Egyptian youth?” Yami neared the child's face, letting a drop of saliva drip to the smaller's tanned flesh, both of them listening as the droplet hissed and shriveled upon making contact with the boy's dark skin.
 
“Now…” the demon eased his hold on the child, even sat up a bit as he looked toward Bakura's limp form. “I'm supposing you feel guilty for his death, that a white hot coil of apologies is searing your heart just looking at him.” When the boy said nothing, Yami smiled cruelly “And I also suppose you're willing to bring him back, willing to do what it takes just to set your pretty, little, blood smudged butterfly of guilt free.” Mariku stared right into the scarlet pools above him, body jerking from hiccups of his earlier sobbing. “I know I'm willing to tell you how to bring him back…”
 
“If?” the boy was no fool, he knew Yami wanted something. Were it as simple as a sip of his blood, Mariku would slit his wrist himself, but that's not what the demon would be asking for, Yami wanted something more, much more.
 
“I'll help you overthrow your incubus of guilt, breath new life into dear Bakura…” the demon's eyes lidded, scarlet chinks of sadistic pleasure leering at the boy hungrily “If you become mine.” Mariku gasped and tried to wriggle out from under Yami, failing miserably as the taller merely shifted and straddled the small form. “Aw, it wouldn't be so bad. You would no longer be alone, I'd keep you on an exceptionally long leash, and you'd have a playmate.” The tricolor haired demon motioned toward Bakura, creepy smile livid on the pale face.
 
“I…No!” Mariku struggled further, growing tired as the other simply sat on him and gave him a bored glance every once in a while.
 
“Then you would rather carry a heavy heart for all of eternity?” Yami looked down at the boy “I don't see why you struggle so, you have the defiant streak of a demon, and you said yourself, they marked you as my kind, my son…why not join me?”
 
“Joining you and becoming your slave are not marked as equal!”
 
“It's the only way I can offer full protection.” The demon laced his fingers in the blond strands, smirking at the thought that this would soon be his, because he knew, just as the boy knew, Mariku would take the offer. “The others hated Kura, and he was simply half human. Just think of the relentless loathing they'd have for you, there's no way I could keep them at bay unless you were marked as mine.”
 
Mariku shut his eyes and allowed his head to roll to one side, the icy touch of Yami's fingers combing through his hair making the boy shiver. “I…” he slowly let violet open and settle on Bakura, flesh looking almost ashen in the corner, crumpled and half-forgotten. Demon or not, he had sacrificed himself to give Mariku a choice, the child had to repay. “I'll do it…” a small rush of words nearly lost in a whisper, but Yami heard it, hungry grin slashing across his face in delight.
 
“Excellent.” The demon fished about on the floor for a moment until he found the dagger he had at some point dropped. “Now, for our contract.” Yami held out his wrist and drew the blade upon it, dark blood spilling from the deep wound and running down his pale arm, soft pats heard as drops fell and splashed on the dusty floor. “I tell you how to bring back Bakura and teach you as much as I can about what other powers you have attained through your holy grace as well as teach you all about my kind.” Yami purred as he handed the blade over to the boy, scarlet eyes darkening with loss of blood and satisfaction.
 
Mariku shakily took the dagger and broke his eye contact with the other, looking instead to the blade, bathed in unholy blood, laughing at him with crimson-sheathed silver. He took the other side of the dagger and quickly split his wrist, the scent of purity spilling into the room once more, Yami recoiling slightly and shuddering as he composed himself. The bright red of the boy's blood slid slowly over the tanned flesh, unwilling to run so quickly to a damning deed of dark contracts. “And…and I will become yours, from this night onward…yours for all eternity if the Gods will it so.”
 
Yami held his wrist out once more, blood sizzling as it landed on the boy's chest, small whimpers torn from the child's throat. One last glance at Bakura, one last instant of freedom, one last moment of an untainted soul…Mariku held his wrist up and allowed both wounds to touch, the searing white flash that resulted blinding them both. Their blood buzzed for a moment, shivered in their veins before realizing their masters' will and following through with the sealing of the contract. The red essence leapt from one body to another, even blood down their arms and on the floor quivered and slithered up their bodies until both forms felt the rush in their veins, hearts open and allowing the flow to freely pass, no pulse from either being until another flash and they were thrown back from each other.
 
The slow rattle of manic laughter began quietly, filling the room with a barrage of noise when Yami looked up and smiled wickedly at the boy, crazed scarlet seeing through the slight, dark form. “Very good, Mariku, very good.” The demon lord crawled back toward the boy, head hanging to one side and canines drawn out, licked in anticipation as the scarlet-eyed creature neared his prey. “Now…” as Yami spoke, it came out in a wet whisper, deep and throaty and dancing in moonlight, a spell by its own accord “Kiss me.”
 
Mariku found it difficult to breathe, his small lungs unwilling to take in air for a now damned body. He looked up disgusted with the lord's command “No…” voice raspy as he struggled to sit up, violet glaring at the other. “Bakura…”
 
“Have you forgotten already, Mariku?” Yami hissed gently, narrowing the distance between them, smelling and savoring the child's breaths. “You're mine now, you do what is asked or told of you, and if I'm satisfied, then you may get a treat.” Unwilling to hold back any longer, Yami captured the small boy's lips, purring into the child's mouth as he tasted dreams and sun, wishes and flowers, hopes and light for the first time. He cupped the head of gold, slithering his tongue into Mariku's mouth, delving deeper and raping the virgin, wet flesh, warm and small and perfect…His.
 
Mariku had started crying, sobs quieted as his mouth was occupied by the demon, shudders racking his body as he felt the other press closer. He didn't understand, he wanted to fight back, wanted to push the dark minded being away from him, but his body wouldn't budge, it hung limp in the demon's arms, twitching only slightly when a wash of cold air swept over him…he was now naked. Fear tore through him like a rabid animal, he knew what the other was expecting, and since Yami knew the boy would never agree to such a thing had he not agreed to a small kiss, Mariku realized the demon would be taking him forcibly.
 
Yami's clothes melted off like liquid shadows, the pale flesh of death flickering in the dim candlelight. He laid the boy down, tear marred face limply falling to one side as the demon crouched and penetrated the child with his tongue, violet shutting from humiliation and then widening when Yami's slicked fingers stretched Mariku, the painful sensation causing more tears to silently spill from his eyes. “You're mine, Mariku. This should help you remember, for all of eternity.” Like venom the words struck at the youth, everything turning white and black when horrid pain tore through him. Yami slid into the boy in one motion, grinning at the youth as the anguish flashed across lovely violet, eyes rolling back as the child was unable to protest or scream.
 
The demon grunted as he repeatedly pounded into the lithe body, rings of muscle clamping in futile attempts to force the intrusion out. Yami panted in ecstasy, the boy, he was so small, so tight, never had he taken someone so young and beautiful, what a prize his child was. The dark lord's flesh glistened with sweat, breathing ragged as he continued, motion frantic and fluid as the angel's blood coated him. He stiffened, breath caught in his throat as he came, head thrown back, growling and filling the boy, tainting him, marking him forever.
 
A broken sob finally escaped the child's throat as Yami shattered his spell, sliding out and pinning the boy by the hips to lick the smear of blood covering Mariku's lower half, tanned flesh left clean and swollen from the abuse. “Mine for all of eternity.” The dark king snickered, standing and blinking slowly, calling back the shadows to cloth him with a smirk. The child sobbed, curling in on himself, and wrapping his tiny arms around his knees, trying to ignore the feel of the demon's seed dribbling from his entrance, his own blood swirled amidst the milky essence. “As for Kura…” Yami flicked his wrist, the pale body of the other demon rising off the ground and hanging midair like a tattered doll, neck broken and head lolled to the back, caught by a strand of blackening muscle. “You have to will yourself to heal him, and you can't do that unless your pretty little wings come out and wrap about him.”
 
Mariku shuddered and opened his eyes, staring at the dead body and hating Yami the longer he looked. It was part of the deal, this was his last chance to back out, once he brought back Bakura…the boy would be bound for good. With what little strength he collected, the child forced himself on all fours, arms and legs trembling even as he took deep breaths and got to his knees, a twinge of pain lacing up his spine, warning him of worse pain to come. “I…I told you…I don't know how-”
 
“Of course you do!” Yami snapped, glowering as he faced the youth. “There's no trick to it! Just want them, will them to appear, feel them tear through your back. That's all we're about, your kind and mine, it's all about the strength of will we've been fighting for.” The demon rounded on the child and hissed in the dark face “Now show me what's so magnificent about you feathered pussies or I'll shred his body and scatter him across dimensions!”
 
Mariku shut his eyes and tried to calm himself, Yami's threats were not empty, he knew the demon thought nothing of disgracing the other's body more. With a deep breath, the youth did as the other told him; he visualized his back, flesh parting and giving way to a new part of himself. And it worked; slowly he could feel a warm pressure build just between his shoulder blades, two pleasing mounds of power growing and glowing as he began to breath faster, violet flinging open just as his back burst with new life. The sensation rippled across his body, soothing all pain and tears, it felt like, what he would later realize, an orgasm too grand to ever capture through senses.
 
Yami stepped back, scarlet eyes wide and enthralled with the sight. Two grand wings seemed to cup the small child, soft feathers flittering and blinding by candlelight alone. They were perhaps just slightly too large in proportion to the boy, but that is what made it all the more awesome, such a small creature protected by a halo of white warmth.
 
The boy quietly made his way to the lifeless body, the serenity upon his face shattering with sorrow as he gazed upon the pale form. Doing as Yami had stated, Mariku folded his wings over himself and Bakura, small, dark hands raising and gently touching the tattered flesh of the taller's neck, soft light appearing. He watched in amazement as the white skin healed, the blood flaking away as nothing was left save for a fine line of magic. Instinctively, the child placed one hand over the demon's heart, eyes drooping as unknown power flickered to life and jolted the fiend's senses, large gasp of air filling the empty lungs, blood rushing once more through constricted veins, vision clearing, brown seeing once more and ringing with scarlet.
 
Bakura fell to the ground, hunger coursing through him at an unforeseen magnitude, crouching on the ground like a wild animal; he looked up at the dark, naked child before him, recognition awakening as the haze of death cleared from his mind.
 
The white-haired demon panted heavily, gulping down as much air as he could while steadily eyeing the boy, eventually standing, dark smile curling his lips. “I take it your planned worked then, Yami.” Bakura sauntered obediently over to his master; nuzzling the smaller's neck affectionately and allowing the dark lord to kiss him like a starved man.
 
“Wha…what plan?!” Mariku backed away, eyes widening again as betrayal overtook the violet, wings flickering as hopelessness settled in his mind and heart. Yami tore his lips away from his paler lover's and smirked coldly at the child, throwing his head back and laughing cruelly. “You…you killed him on purpose!?” he looked toward Bakura and saw the lewd satisfaction in the murky brown. “Both of you…you planned it…all?!”
 
“Come now, Mariku.” Yami chided, wrapping his thin arms around the taller's neck and hanging loosely. “Did you really expect decent conduct, from me of all demons?” the tricolor haired lord giggled manically, wrapping his slender legs about Bakura's waist and arching his back so he looked at the boy upside down.
 
Mariku began to panic; it was all a trick, a woven tapestry of lies he should have seen through, but hadn't. He fell to the ground, staring still in disbelief at the demons, his knees dug into the dry earth, and his hands wrapped about his frail body, shaking as he begged for all of this to be a cruel dream. He felt so dirty now, used and bound for lifetimes to a shadow.
 
“How will you mark him?” Bakura purred, licking the smaller's neck and nipping at tender regions just below Yami's ear. “I know you've taken him, can smell your sweat and seed, his pretty blood dribbling with it down his legs, but you're going to brand him, aren't you?”
 
Yami moaned from his lover's attention, lips parting and eyes drooping as he allowed the teasing. “You know me too well, Kura.” The demon lord slid off of the other and grinned at the huddled boy. “I'm going to make an example of him, for all of his kind, from here on to infinity.”
 
Mariku had no chance of escaping as he suddenly found himself face down, clasped by icy hands, wrists held together above his head by Bakura as Yami straddled the boy's back and scratched him with short nails, fiery pricks jumping from the thin cuts. “This time I'll allow you to struggle, I want to hear you scream, writhe in agony as I make you mine.” The boy kicked and sobbed, twisting to no avail as Yami laughed and took hold of a white wing's base, violet eyes filling with tears as the demon began to pull, dark flesh ripping as the wing was torn from the boy's back, gaping wound pooling with red blood and tattered flesh. “One more to go, Mariku.” Yami snickered, dipping his fingertips into the hot gash, holding his hand out, and letting Bakura suckle on his fingers. The head of gold thrashed from side to side, tears streaking the air as he cried out, body racked with heart wrenching sobs, ignored by the shadows holding him. The child felt where his other wing was being tugged on, flesh giving way, throat scratched and dried from his screams. With a loud snap of bone and flesh, the flailing mass of white feathers was torn off, tossed to the side to lie beside its partner.
 
He lay there motionless, pain too blinding to scream any longer, face twisted in unholy agony, violet sliding half shut, staring at what was once a part of himself until he passed out. Yami chuckled, pulling out his dagger and licking off their blood from earlier. “Aw, was hoping he'd be awake for this part.” Slowly the demon carved into the boy's back, a scripture he had read once, silly human prattle about destiny and pharaohs. He looked down at his work and pondered for a moment, snickering as he re-slit his wrist and allowed his blackish blood to fill the fresh wounds, looking to all the world like ink.
 
As the last well of flesh was filled, the ground lurched, both demons toppling to the ground in confusion. The earth rumbled, sand and dust filling the air, blinding scarlet and brown. Yami growled and waved away the thick clouds, eyes widening as he watched the scripture on Mariku's back glow, healing so his back was scarred with the demon's perversion of ink, the deep gashes where the wings were closing up, black wings carved by an invisible hand where the white ones had sprouted from.
 
“Yami!” the scarlet-eyed demon looked toward Bakura, following his gaze and stumbling away from the tattered wings that were sprawled on the floor. They were twitching, the blood at their bases spreading across the floor and bubbling, forming into a body, a huddled mass curled together like a newborn. The demons stared dumbfounded, jumping when the being's eyes opened, the pair of sad, lavender orbs looking at them, images of sorrow and death flickering across the pale expanse of purple. He looked just like Mariku, soft, gold hair framing his dark flesh, small, frail form glowing softly, wings arched above his cocked head as he seemingly read the demons with silent understanding, pained gaze then slithering to the bloodied boy he had come from.
 
Mariku groaned, willing his violet eyes to open, gasping when he saw himself staring back. He tried to sit up, prop himself on his elbows, but found his body too sore for any such movement, instead he stared back, frightened at what he saw. Yami and Bakura were pressed against the walls, nothing like this had ever occurred before, not in their centuries of life, they looked back toward Mariku, noticing his hair was now different, far more disheveled than it had originally been, spiked in an array of wild gold, some of it hanging loosely down his back.
 
“Who-”
 
“You.” The lavender eyed version of Mariku answered before the question was fully asked, sad gaze filling with tears as he began to fade.
 
“Wait!” Mariku's hand outstretched, trying to keep his reflection from disappearing.
 
“One soul, torn in two.” The ghostly figure whispered, voice like a caress of silk. “We are Mariku, but like this, I am Malik…” violet eyes filled with tears as he watched his other half fade “And you…Marik.”
 
“No! Don't go, please?!”
 
A sad smile graced the already heart wrenching face of the angel “We'll meet another time, Marik. I swear to you, and then…we'll become one again.” With that, the lavender eyes faded from existence, the bit of light thrown into the dark, unknowing depths of a starless infinity, to meet once more with his other half within a different life.
 
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“I remember.” Marik hissed, narrowing his eyes at Bakura and walking away, letting the trees' shadows cast themselves upon him. Yami never forced himself on the youth again, always teased and touched, but never anything more than relentless torment, the psychotic, scarlet-eyed demon swore to wait until the day Marik would break and come to him, keeping himself more than busy with Bakura over the millennia. No one else was allowed to touch him either; save for the rare times the white-haired devil got curt nods of approval, even then Bakura had never even kissed the blond.
 
Marik was Yami's treasure, and while the demon had kept his word and let the violet-eyed other roam on loose terms, the blond had to be on call and at his master's side when ordered, mostly to show the exotic prize off. “I wish I didn't.” he shut his eyes and let his mind wander, trying to keep images of Ryou from his mind, it was better he not think about what the blood thirsty demon would do to the innocent, but found it increasingly difficult to block the beautiful boy's voice and eyes, more so because Bakura was there beside him once more, the uncanny resemblance paining Marik.
 
“Guess the bastard's finally getting his wish.” Bakura snorted, looking toward the blond and letting his gaze wander over the delicious example of beauty. “I always knew he was a pain in the ass, but this is low.”
 
“You only think that because he's finally hit a weak spot in you, you've fallen in love, Bakura.” Marik's cool voice lingered in the air, both looking toward the bleeding moon.
 
“And how do you know?” it wasn't bitter, but the pale demon didn't understand. He had always assumed he loved Yami; even now, he couldn't help but admire the damn vampire because the tricolor haired fiend had done such an excellent job executing his plan, so how could he love another?
 
Marik shrugged, looking over his shoulder a moment and wondering if Bakura would ever understand why. His violet eyes suddenly widened, dark body going numb as he saw past the brown-eyed demon, gaze focused on a boy turning the corner on a motorcycle blocks away. Marik's breathing hitched and he felt his senses quiver, vision blurring as he staggered and fell to his knees, Bakura catching the fainting blond before his head hit the ground.
 
“Malik…”
 
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