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@yamiestofyamis
I forgot some people on here had my discord... oops
it got hacked a couple of months ago and this is a very late warning not to click any links and a polite request, if my account blocked you, to re-add me
also a very late apology
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Robot kura
@yamiestofyamis
oh nice
âIâll be back.â He said, and meant it. There wasnât likely to be much out there which could stop him, the alterations to his body made sure of it. Even if the local gangs somehow had access to black-market cybernetics, they would pale in comparison to his own. Bakuraâs body was top of the line, years ahead of anything on the private market. He was as close to bulletproof as a human could get and still pass for human.
â40 minutes. Iâll set a timer.â Bakura was still uneasy about leaving Ryou, even with a gun. He paused, clearly indecisive, before heading towards the door again. âDonât worry. I will come back.â
A part of him had expected tears, or anger, at the very least questions; instead she just seemed... tired. Her reaction, or lack thereof, put him on the back foot and he followed her in, shutting the door as he was bid. It looked like she was packing, for what he couldnât guess.Â
Ryou had changed, more than he had apparently, she was an adult and had a life and plans. Bakura felt an odd sensation pooling at the pit of his stomach. Was it envy? Whatever it was, it didnât sit right and he tried to distract himself from it.
âThatâs it, then: Youâre not curious how I came back, or why?â He was aware how petulant he sounded and hated it. He forced a grin. âI thought you might at least raise your voice at me.â
âIt is.â Bakura was just as uncomfortable with the idea of leaving Ryou alone, although he didnât show it. Doubtless it was a risk; even though he was almost certain Ryou wouldnât try to run off- not that he could- he was vulnerable and near enough immobile. Bakura would hesitate to leave him alone even if they werenât in a profoundly unsafe area.Â
Hesitation did neither of them any favours; better to act and worry about it afterwards. There was something he could do to keep Ryou safe while he was gone; it was about as risky- and probably more for his own peace of mind than for Ryouâs sake. It was not a good plan. Unfortunately, it was the only one they had.
âHere.â Bakura picked up his coat, fished around in it and handed Ryou his handgun. âThe safety is on, leave it on. If someone who isnât me gets in, pointing this at them should scare them off. Okay?âÂ
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She looked different. Then again, so did he. It seemed whatever bound them together had given him a body approximately the same age as hers; he was taller than her, near enough six foot, and still thin as a rail, with his height it made him look even more gaunt and angular, like someone had thrown a shirt over a broken chair. It wasnât surprising she didnât recognise him, it had been a while.Â
âMy dearest Landlord.â Bakuraâs voice hadnât changed a bit. âThere is a lot you can help me with.â His stern face broke into an all-too-familiar smile. âBut you can start by inviting me in.âÂ
It had taken a great toll on him, but Bakura was back. And Bakura had a problem: He was mortal again. The Ring had acted as a locus for any magic he possessed, without it he was almost powerless; while he still had the gnosis of magic, jumbled up along with his extremely long memory, there was no spark. Thought did not become deed, it just rattled impotently around inside his head.Â
Still, he did have his own body again. Emphasis on His, he thought wryly. His body, being mortal and human, had certain needs. Bakura was not used to taking care of these needs, heâd always delegated that to Ryou. Itâd worked before, there was no reason to assume it wouldnât work again. Besides, he couldnât wait to see the look on her face when he showed up.
After heâd gotten his bearings it didnât take him long to find her, you didnât live in someone elseâs body without learning a thing or two about their routines. He knew on some instinctive level she would be in the same old place; a vague connection that compelled him towards her, heâd felt it as soon as he returned, perhaps she felt it too? He could ask her. Bakura knocked and patiently waited.Â
So tumblr up and decided to just not send me any notifications any more, I have to look for them. If Iâm slow responding or miss a message, thatâs most likely why. Not to mention Iâm not the quickest to respond on a good day hahah
It looked... nice. He looked nice; if it werenât for the jutting angular lines showing underneath his clothes and his metal hands, he could almost pass for an ordinary man. Bakura wasnât used to looking nice; it left a warm and unfamiliar feeling somewhere in his chest, not unlike the one he felt when Ryou laid hands on him.
âThanks.â He said, voice soft and muted. Bakura lingered for a moment, simply enjoying their proximity, until curiosity compelled him to stand and get a better look in the mirror. He turned his head to look at it from many angles, a faint smile quirking the corners of his mouth- Until he saw the unnatural shape of his shoulders and suddenly felt stupid. He turned away and looked back at Ryou. âHowâs your leg?â His voice had gone back to a soft, unreadable monotone. âDoes it feel hot, or burning, or swollen?â
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Introducing⌠Magician Ash! @whitepearlreaperart
With a full color illustration, merch, and work on our tarot deck, Ashâs work will be available in full in the  YGO magic zine- âHocus Pocus!â You can order your copy TODAY!!!!
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yamiestofyamisâ:
For a moment Bakura was certain heâd misheard, caught something from the television instead. He almost laughed; it was either another one of those strange coincidences, or Ryou was more perceptive than Bakura gave him credit for. It shouldnât be surprising, but in his role as kidnapper/caretaker it was easy to forget Ryou was- on better days than these- extremely smart, clearly a lot smarter than him.Â
âOkay.â He said after a pause, as though letting someone brush his hair required the careful weighing of many options. âSure.â He tried to sound more affirming this time.Â
  Careful to not disturb his leg too much, Ryou maneuvered behind the other. He fell silent as he started to work, fingers brushing through the tips to encourage snarls out as gently as he could. For the more stubborn, he pressed a hand against the otherâs scalp so it wouldnât cause pain when he tugged.
It was slow going work, but something that was easy to get lost in, and he realized somewhere along the way he started humming a nameless tune. Huh. Oh well.
  Eventually Ryou finished, snarls free as much as could be when one was working with fingers and not a proper brush or comb. âDo you want me to put it up, or leave it like this?â He broke the quiet, now simply running his fingers through Bakuraâs hair to enjoy the sensation.
Unsurprisingly, Bakura wasnât used to being handled; his experience with being close to people he wasnât actively trying to render unconscious extended about as far as... carrying Ryou around after a traumatic incident or injury, optionally while unconscious. Both of those incidents were directly caused by him, which made Bakura feel a vague sense of unease. It couldâve been guilt, it couldâve been shit coffee.Â
Still, having Ryou put hands on him and get the many tangles out of his hair did feel good; Bakuraâs feelings were clear there if nowhere else. He found himself relaxing into it.
âUp.â He decided after a moment of dithering. Heâd never worn his hair up before, heâd never done much of anything with it besides wash it and let it grow.
Ryouâs patience is gold.
For a moment Bakura was certain heâd misheard, caught something from the television instead. He almost laughed; it was either another one of those strange coincidences, or Ryou was more perceptive than Bakura gave him credit for. It shouldnât be surprising, but in his role as kidnapper/caretaker it was easy to forget Ryou was- on better days than these- extremely smart, clearly a lot smarter than him.Â
âOkay.â He said after a pause, as though letting someone brush his hair required the careful weighing of many options. âSure.â He tried to sound more affirming this time.Â
Stargate SG-1:Â Heroes, Part 1
SG-1 was the tops and donât let anyone tell you otherwise
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Hang on a sec while I write every Euro-noire crime fiction to come out since The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. Presented in screenplay format because itâs funny. Itâs a parody of the kind of bs mental health representation we see over and over again in these stupid shows, so CW: ableist language, brief mention of murder,Â
Ext. MULTISTORY CARKPARK NEAR THE SEA - OVERCAST DAY
SAD PIANO MUSIC fades into sound of distant traffic as SERIOUS WOMAN and HAGGARD OLDER MAN stare at a dead woman on the tarmac. HAGGARD OLDER MAN looks disgusted but SERIOUS WOMAN is unmoved.Â
SERIOUS WOMAN:Â It wasnât suicide.
HAGGARD OLDER MAN (confused): How do you know?
SERIOUS WOMAN (without emotion): I am hyper-competent in many specialised fields because of a trauma that will gradually be revealed to the audience, however this trauma has caused me to become abrasive and emotionally unavailable. Therefore, I present myself as andro/masculine and shun sexual advances because the author can only equate professionalism and competence with masculinity. I only tolerate you, HAGGARD OLDER MAN, because you use my trauma to behave as though I have no autonomy and I am supposed to find this preferable to being hit on. Also, you have a WIFE AND CHILDREN, disqualifying you from a relationship.Â
HAGGARD OLDER MAN (understanding): Yes I see that now. I should call my WIFE AND CHILDREN, who are not real characters, merely props for me to emote my many personal failings at. I have a fraught relationship with them due to the distressing nature of my work. I am also having an affair with a sex worker, who will be grossly misrepresented, but I will present my infidelity as a symptom of my distressing police work rather than a character flaw.Â
SERIOUS WOMAN (without emotion): I knew you were having an affair with a sex worker, because I am a human lie-detector/robot/bloodhound/martial-artist.
HAGGARD OLDER MAN (pleading): Please do not tell my WIFE AND CHILDREN I am having an affair.
SERIOUS WOMAN (without emotion): I will not and this will bring us emotionally closer for some reason. (suddenly pointing without emotion) There is the INSANE MURDERER.
INSANE MURDERER (murderously and insane): I am the murderer. My trauma and mental illness also remove my agency in a way that mirrors you, SERIOUS WOMAN, which is clever writing and ironic. (points accusingly at HAGGARD MAN) HAGGARD MAN! I have taken WIFE AND CHILDREN to my MURDER CAVE where I will murder them unless you can stop me and disarm my riddles and traps.Â
Int. MURDER CAVE - ERIE RED LIGHT
SERIOUS WOMAN (without emotion): I will use my SERIOUS WOMAN abilities to disarm the riddles and traps faster and better than anyone else could.Â
HAGGARD MAN (reunited with WIFE AND CHILDREN and grateful): Thank you SERIOUS WOMAN. You have proven your worth and right to be a police. Our CRITICAL SUPERIORS will be silenced by your performance and abilities.Â
CRITICAL SUPERIORS (silencedly): We were wrong and are silenced, SERIOUS WOMAN, you really are a police.Â
Here it was; the question lingering at the back of his mind, keeping him up at night, finally asked aloud: What was the plan if they didnât call?Â
Bakura didnât know. It wasnât a scenario he cared to entertain, despite its increasing likelihood. These kinds of plans werenât for him to make, they were for people with smarts and grand ideas, who used big elegant words when they talked. Bakura wasnât like them; he was pointed at things and told to break them, he was a missile who walked like a man. He didnât make plans.
âStay here for a while.â Staying in one place was a risk, but a break from travelling would help Ryou recover. âWeâve still got credit, somebodyâs out there.â Bakura wasnât sure who he was trying to reassure most, Ryou or himself.
