[au, supernatural] Bakura never considered himself particularly squeamish. In fact, he’d seen enough unpleasantness to last him more lifetimes than he’d care to have. Broken bones, shattered teeth, disembowelment — if he hadn’t been the culprit, then there was a high chance he may have been the recipient.

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Every evening, long after Ra’s light faded from the sky, a little mouse crept out of the palace.

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In hindsight, Bakura should have listened to Malik’s warning against eating sushi from a random gas station; but, in his defence, it was cheap and he was starving.

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Bakura had spat in the faces of gods and demons alike, yet the mere thought of Malik’s laugh was enough to make his heart skip a beat.  

Bakura had always known the nobility was riddled with idiots who couldn’t fight their way out of a woven basket, however Malik was proving to be on another level entirely.

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“Malik. The last theoretical question you asked me was, ‘would you still love me if I were a worm,’ and you pitched a plate at my head for saying no.”

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A feud between clans reaches its head when Diva discovers Malik's connection with the fabled Thief King.

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"I can’t believe you spent years living in Japan, in a Japanese kid’s body no less, and still managed to book our stay during fucking monsoon season."

"You're absolutely right Malik; that's what I should've wasted my cursed existence doing — memorising annual Japanese weather patterns for this holiday, specifically."

"Glad we're on the same page."