#akeifa

[saijspellhart]

I finished the linearts for all my Merms for mermay! Yay me! Maybe I will get around to coloring them too. If you wish to color any of these you must ask permission, and I can provide a clean lineart.

Yugi, is a Royal Gramma fish

Akeifa, is a Lightning maroon Clownfish

Seto, is a Thresher shark

Atem, is a Red and Black fancy Koi

Also Rivalshipping merms! They so cute together!

[infinite-conundrums]

@blu3yes x   “Im the kinda android that likes long walks in the city & a revolution at night"

   ❝ Hey Akeifa what the actual FUCK does that mean? ❞

“Are you sure you wanna find out?”

[a-spookys-doodles]

Marik know's he likes it when Bakura kidnaps him (super cute pictures!)

He used to but now he’s just annoyed.

[saijspellhart]

Oops I doodled a Thief King Bakura. But as a merman. Saw some designs that gave him locs and thought I’d play around with the concept. I drew the scar on the wrong side of his face, because I’m an idiot. Anyway, *throws my doodle out and goes to hide under a rock.*

[saijspellhart]

Caught Between a Rock and Two Sets of Teeth

Written by @nedjemetsenen and illustrated by @saijspellhart

A Radicalshipping fanfic. (Yugi x Yami Marik x Yami Bakura(TKB))

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Oh my god, they were roommates. Then things got real interesting.

[saijspellhart]

I redrew my Atem and Akeifa merms, and made linearts of them.

Now they can get colored. Also now Akeifa has his proper pattern on his fish half.

If you wish to color one of these boys, you must ask permission.

[saijspellhart]

Just finished drawing Yami Marik and Akeifa. I’m so pleased with the result of the art.

You can absolutely tell Marik is my favorite character just from the amount of cake I drew on him. That man is thicc. He got the booty.

Yes. I drew man ass again. Lots of butt. I have no shame. Orz

[saijspellhart]

Would I be able to request #41 with Bakushipping? Even though they'd have trouble fitting under one umbrella.. "^^

41. Kisses shared under an umbrella. (Don’t worry, I made them fit. *winks*)

They were fighting again. Bickering and snarling like two old cats.

The rain was coming down hard, pelting Ryou’s skull. The wind stung his reddened cheeks and nose, and his clothes were soaked through.

Ahead of him Akeifa* and Bakura were tearing at each other. Fighting over a tattered umbrella that had gotten turned out amidst their fighting. It was currently serving no purpose to any of them. And yet the two of them continued to fight over it.

Ryou dragged his sopping scarf tighter around his neck, a feeble attempt to grasp warmth. It only managed to wring more water down his chilled neck. He watched Bakura shove Akeifa into the sidewalk and start biting his brown fingers in an attempt to force the Thief King to release the umbrella’s handle.

Akeifa took a fistful of his hair and began yanking. Trying to dislodge Bakura’s teeth from his hand.

The little group had pretty much stopped moving, and there was still more than a mile to go before they made it home.

Ryou glanced around for someplace to take refuge until the storm passed. But it was late, and most of the shops had closed for the evening.

The two thieves rolled across the pavement before him, slamming into a sodden bench, and dislodging even more water. Not that they even noticed amidst the downpour they were already in.

Ryou considered leaving them, and walking home on his own. But Akeifa didn’t know the city very well, could barely read Japanese, and he couldn’t trust Bakura not to abandon his ancient Egyptian counterpart.

He’d done it before. They were practically the same person, but they got along as well as a snooty old cat and... well, another strange cat.

Ryou spotted an awning over the door of a closed coffee shop. He spared his boyfriends a withering look, seeing that Akeifa had gotten the upper hand and was now shoving Bakura’s face into an overflowing gutter.

He heaved a sigh and retreated under the awning. The wind continued to whip, the rain continued to sting, and the sky turned ever darker with the setting of the sun. Not that you could even see the sun beyond the thick angry storm clouds.

The sounds of swearing, screeching, and snarling were getting drowned out in the deafening drum of the rain.

Ryou hugged himself and wished so badly for a hot shower and a steaming cup of tea. He crouched into a ball, scooting as far under the awning as he could manage, willing his teeth to stop chattering in an exercise of futility.

He was so cold his bones ached. His shoes had squelched with every step, and clothes clung to him uncomfortably.

He probably would have called for a taxi, or a ride from a friend if his cell phone had still been working. He was going to have to stuff it in a jar of rice when he got home to dry out the circuitry.

His eyes were shut tightly, ignoring the fighting men, shutting out the storm around him. Violent shivers wracked his frame.

If he just waited. The rain would let up. Soon he would be home.

The sudden lessening of pelting rain was what caught his attention first. This was soon followed by something blocking out the wind.

Ryou jerked his head up from his arms, and stared into guilty heather and ashamed chocolate brown eyes.

Akeifa stood over Ryou, using his wider frame to shield him from the rain. Bakura was next to him, clutching the bent and abused umbrella in one hand, and using the other to stretch his black leather jacket out to block the wind from hitting their light.

Neither man said a word.

Bakura grimaced, and turned his gaze to the ground. But Akeifa held Ryou’s stare, a silent whisper of apology in his black-flecked heather colored eyes.

Ryou spared him a feeble watery smile.

“Bakura, fix the umbrella,” Akeifa ordered his modern counterpart.

Bakura looked about to snip back, opening his mouth to spit some sort of snide remark, but he shut it again. Akeifa had bent down and scooped Ryou into his muscled arms. Bakura, with his slight build would have struggled to carry Ryou for very long.

The Egyptian straightened up, clutching Ryou to his chest in what was typically called “bridal style.” Not that the ancient thief was familiar with the modern colloquialism.

Bakura righted the umbrella, popping the spokes back into place. He shook out some of the water, not that it really mattered in this storm. Then held it up, leaving enough room for another person beneath.

Akeifa stepped under it easily enough since Bakura was taller than him. He nodded to the paler male, and the former Yami began leading the way home.

Ryou marveled at their sudden change in behavior. A solemn understanding seeming to pass between them, and they were finally working together, finally sharing.

The wind was still biting, and the rain was still torrential, but there was something peaceful about the group now. He curled into Akeifa’s chest, trying to find a warmth that was barely there. The Egyptian thief was just as frigid as he was and Ryou must have felt like a soggy popsicle. And yet, Akeifa held him tighter.

Chilled pale lips placed a kiss against exposed collarbone. Akeifa’s collarbones were always exposed. The man practically refused to button up his shirts, and preferred wearing things that exposed as much of his chest as socially acceptable.

Not that the other two complained. Well, Bakura complained; but then he complained about everything whether he actually liked it or not.

Strong brown arms shivered, and it wasn’t from the cold. Ryou dragged his lips to the hollow of Akeifa’s throat, nuzzling, and a breathy groan may have been lost to the storm.

“Ya Amar*, please don’t. You’re making me weak.”

Ryou blinked up at the man holding him tightly. “S-sorry,” he mumbled out, and this time the flush in his cheeks was not from the bitter cold.

“Well, I’m not weak,” bit Bakura. He leaned in and kissed their light right on the mouth. Quick, chaste, but deliberate. When he straightened back up there was a sneer painted over his features. “A mere kiss doesn’t wreck me.”

Akeifa pulled back a lip and actually snarled. An honest to god snarl.

“C’mon you guys, let’s not fight agai-“

But Ryou was cut off when slightly chapped lips claimed his own. Akeifa adjusted his grip to better the angle, and kissed him like a drowning man sought air.

Or like a spiteful bandit king that sought to one-up his future self. Which was just as passionate and starving.

Either way Ryou felt himself melting into the kiss despite the storm raging around them.

“Get off him you tosser!”

Akeifa broke the kiss with a hunger simmering in his half-lidded eyes. Though he never broke eye contact with the slender male in his arms. “Make me, you airy-fairy.”

Bakura made an ugly noise. “Airy-fairy? When the hell did you pick up that?” An accusing stare leveled on Ryou, who shrank back into Akeifa’s embrace. The effect of the glare wasn’t as successful as Bakura hoped, since he looked like a drowned cat. But Ryou played along regardless, for the sake of his pride.

“I-I swear it w-wasn’t me.” And the stutter was more from the chill than actually being intimidated.

“Who else would he have picked it up from?”

“Don’t yell at him,” Akeifa butted in, cradling Ryou protectively. “I could just as easily call you things in our own tongue.”

“Piss off.”

“Guys, please,” Ryou tried.

“If that’s how you feel, Ryou and I will shower without you once we get home,” sneered the thief.

“Like hell you are!”

Both men picked up their pace, as if racing to get home first.

Ryou just shrank back against Akeifa’s chest and closed his eyes. The argument was asinine. The apartment shower barely had enough room for one.

But he had the distinct feeling that tonight it would be fitting three, whether he liked it or not.

~0000~

I hope that was satisfying. I loved writing these three. I love Bakushipping. Especially the horribly domestic Bakushipping. Thanks so much for the ask and kiss prompt.

*Akeifa: the name I use for Thief King Bakura. I am fandom old, and I was around when this name was used prevelently for TKB. (Since the name Bakura is Japanese, not Egyptian, and it belongs to Ryou, and Yami Bakura already stole it.) I like the fanon name a lot. And if you don’t then no one is asking you to tell me about it. Pronounced: AH-KAY-FAH.

*Ya Amar: My Moon (which means my most beautiful) Pronounced: YA KAMAR. An Arabic term of endearment.