Hey all! Hope everyone's doing well. This is something I was inspired to write from reading a different Thornshipping story. Well sort of inspired since this story is completely different from the other one ^^U Anyway, this fic is sort of how I see Thornshipping in general. Might be a tad confusing since I'm not used to writing from Marik's perspective. Hope you like it!

Disclaimer: I don't own Yu-Gi-Oh! If I did Kaiba would walk around the whole of season three with bunny ears on! ^^


It was all he knew, all he was, and all he would ever be. He was a being of pain, an inflictor and a receiver. The sadistic pleasure he got from causing pain was like nothing else and the rush of adrenalin he got from have pain inflicted on him was the ultimate thrill. Pain was his mother, his creator, without it he would never have come to exist. He was Marik Ishtar, the pain of Malik Ishtar. He was of course more than just pain. Hatred, loneliness, depression, anger; they were his rhyme and reason, his thoughts and actions. Everything he did was in hatred. To bring pain. To cause depression and anger. To make those within his reach taste loneliness they had never imagined.

A loneliness that was etched into his very being.

No one accepted him. His so called siblings saw him as a parasite, a stain that was corroding there oh so perfect little brother. Malik. Ra he hated him and the feeling was mutual. Malik had created him from his own pain, his own twisted and confused emotions he suffered from the tomb keeper's initiation. He was part of Malik. He was Malik. But Malik would not accept that. Malik would never admit something so dark and evil could have been born from him. He rejected Marik, painted him a monster, a ghoul that hid in the shadows of your bedroom and watched you until you fell asleep or looked away for a split second so he could pounce and make your nightmares reality. Not even a person, just a bundle of evil given the shape of a man. Or rather taken.

The cool night air felt good. It was cold, so cold you wouldn't even think to stand outside when there was a warm room heated by the blimp's electric motors waiting for you inside. Anyone would think it madness to subject one's self to such icy winds that blew at the high altitude they were flying but madness was no stranger to Marik and the goose bumps that prickled his bronze skin like pin pricks felt so very good. He had grown bored in his cosy little room with its soft bed and gentle lightning. It was so very lovely and he hated it. He hated love. He hated everything on principle but love was high on the list. He hated warmth and security, feeling safe and loved with those around you or even alone with the knowledge someone out there cared for you. He hated it. He hated it because he wanted it.


Another jagged and rotten piece of the puzzle that made up his psyche, though one he was less inclined to share.

He breathed deeply, the icy air cutting his throat with each intake. A dull pain that reminded him he was still alive, still in control. Malik was so weak, a baby who constantly needed Rashid's protection lest things become too hard for him to handle. Well Rashid was gone now. Not completely but he would rectify that soon enough and Malik had been helpless to stop him taking over, taking what was denied him. Malik's body. His body. Because he was Malik, not the weak pathetic fool who needed others but the true Malik. A being of evil who deserved his body for the suffering he felt with every emotion in his mind. His and only his. He would never let the fake Malik have it again, never let that undeserving weakling waste the opportunities this body brought.

He smiled; a twisted parody of the action that bared his sharp canines similar to a snarling beast. Evil is not meant to smile. A smile is something that happens when a person is happy. Evil is never happy. Even when he would kill Rashid or defeat the Pharaoh he would never be happy or satisfied. Never sated or quenched of his hatred. No. He would continue to hate and spread despair, continue to inflict pain and arouse anger that a person never thought they were capable of feeling.

And he would do it alone.

Lonely, always lonely.

No one would accept him, no one would want him. No one would dare to try, because if they did he would kill them, erase them from this world so he would never have to face the emotion hidden deep within himself.


The fear of losing someone who accepts you for what you are. The fear of caring for another. Just fear. He feared fear. To be scared, helpless and weak, it disgusted him. When he made others fear him it was wonderful, their frightened little faces constricted at the very sight of him. It gave him power, the power to affect another's mind and bend there will to his desires. Of course this could be just as easily accomplished with the power of his rod but should the situation ever arise when he didn't have the rod, he was confident in the fact he would not be completely powerless.

His cape flapped high in the wind, almost dancing against the element. The dark purple fabric did little to protect him against the cold but he didn't care. It was a symbol. A sign that he was a being above them. Purple, the colour of royalty. He chuckled, the sound dark and grating as it rumbled from his throat. He wasn't laughing because he was happy, more amused.

He was recalling the duel from earlier that day, his duel with pretty little Mai. The woman had been so confident, so very proud of herself. Well he fixed that. It was a little disappointing really; she had been far too easy. It was clear the moment she set foot on the duelling arena that she had never experienced a taste of shadow magic in her life. So unprepared for the horrors she was experiencing, so unsuspecting of the damage his illusions could cause. He laughed at the memory of her face when she cut off his head, stricken in horror and disgust as he held his head in his arms. And the fear, the fear in her eyes was the icing on the cake. He knew then he would break her, shatter her glass confidence and reveal the cowering little girl hiding behind it.

'Poor little Mai, no looking glass to tell yourself you're the fairest in the land anymore'.

Now she was lost to the shadows, slowly, agonisingly slowly she was filtering away into nothing and soon only a pretty corpse would be left of the lovely Mai. It almost made him giddy for his battle with the Pharaoh. The spirit would not be so easily defeated but Marik wasn't worried. Already he had thought of the perfect way to exploit the Pharaoh's weakness and ensure his victory. Yes, soon he will have removed all obstacles stopping him from spreading his darkness over the world. Soon he would be their God. Worshipped, praised, feared, Marik their lord and master. It had a nice ring to it. Their only God.

The only one.

All alone.


A sound drew him from his musing. Footsteps.

Slow soft clanking of footsteps on the other side of the platform, separated by the duelling arena. Who in their right mind would think to come out here? Marik couldn't tell, the figure blocked by the slightly raised arena. The footsteps continued, growing closer. Clearly whoever it was couldn't see him either or they would have turned tail and fled. The owner of the footsteps wouldn't be too hard to decipher, after all there was only a certain number of people on the blimp to begin with.

It could be the Pharaoh or maybe his pathetic host or even one of his little cheerleaders. It could be Kaiba or one of his staff. It could be Ishizu but that was unlikely, his so called sister could see the future and would therefore know he was standing on the other side. She was a constant irritation but even she wouldn't be stupid enough to be alone with him on the outer recesses of the blimp where he could kill her and toss her body over the rails without any hassle at all. Actually that idea sounded amusing, maybe he should give it a try with his little mystery quest.

The footsteps halted.

Marik waited, curious to what the figure was planning. It was unlikely they were just coming out for a breath of fresh air; if they were then why bother to walk all the way to the railings? The howl of the wind was all he could hear, no sounds followed it, no indication someone was standing on the other side of the platform. He frowned. He couldn't have imagined the footsteps could he? He was insane but he knew what was real and what was not. He was sure the footsteps had been real. Silently he inched closer to the tip of the rails where the two sides met. He had to be careful not to scare away his prey; like a wolf hunting a rabbit.

'Here bunny, bunny'

Marik felt a tingle of excitement up his spine. A taste of the thrill he would feel from cornering his unsuspecting victim. He hoped it was one of Kaiba's staff; a nameless drone the CEO wouldn't even notice went missing. He couldn't just murder anyone after all, much to his reluctance. He couldn't touch the Pharaoh or Kaiba; they were needed for his plan. The Pharaoh's cronies and Kaiba's brother; they were a grey area, not very important but their absence would be noted. Everyone else? He had an appointment card for the rod's blade with their name on it. He bit back a giggle, giddy as he drew closer to knowing his victim's identity.


He paused in his step.

What was that?

(Sob) a hiccup (sob)


His victim was crying. Slowly he peered over the pillar holding the duelling arena to the other side. Dark lavender eyes scanned the dark area, searching the shadows for the source of woe. Then he saw them. Or rather her. The figure was clearly female, the slender legs poking out of the red skirt she wore around her curved hips made it pretty obvious. Her back was too him, her brown hair flying every which way in the wind. Her head was bent forward, blocking his view of her face. But he already knew who she was.

And she disgusted him.

The Pharaoh's head cheerleader and personal whore Anzu Mazaki. She was always on the Pharaoh's arm, fawning over him and hanging on his every word. Disgusting little slut.

She still hadn't noticed his presence but at this point it didn't matter. He couldn't kill her, someone so tightly linked with the Pharaoh and his host was sure to be noticed missing. He cursed mentally, his fun denied him. He glared at her trembling form. Whether she was shaking from the cold or her tears he wasn't sure. She sniffled, mumbling something to herself and wiping her eyes.

'So pathetic'

Suddenly a thought came to him. He couldn't kill her but there was nothing stopping him from teasing her a bit. He had after all seen her at her weakest point; she was ripe to be mocked. He smiled, lips twisted maliciously as he crept up to her, silent and invisible to her.

He was so close now, within arm's reach of gripping her hair in his hand. It looked so silky. He briefly wondered how it would feel tangled in his fist.

Her back straightened with a sigh. It would seem her little crying fit was over. The giddiness returned to him, waiting with baited breath for her to turn and see him. She didn't disappoint, stepping back from the rail and pivoting on her heel to face him. For a nanosecond she didn't even see him, her dulled blue eyes rimmed red dismissing the blur of colours as a mistake caused by the remaining tears in her vision. Then she blinked and her vision cleared, revealing the tanned face with grinning white teeth and dark lavender eyes staring at her to be all too real. Her eyes widened, mouth opening in a silent yelp of shock and confusion, her brain unable to keep up with her face. Marik leaned forward, meeting her eye line.


She shrieked, jumping back with flailing limbs. He threw his head back in laughter, delighted with her reaction. Her back collided with the rail and in her shock she lost her balance, tipping over slightly as her feet lifted from the ground. Frantically she gripped the handrail, catching herself but the momentum continued to make her fall backwards.

With a painful jerk she was stopped, Marik's grip on the collar of her top keeping her suspended from falling over completely. She was practically sitting on the rail, the cool metal digging into her bare thighs just below the hem of her skirt. He grinned at her, chuckling in his throat at the look of panic in her eyes.

"Now now" he half heartedly scolded "It's not polite to scream at someone when you see them. You might hurt their feelings" He loosened his grip on her, letting her slip back further. She gasped, her mouth opening and closing in silent pleas. His grin stretched further, fully enjoying her panic. He stepped forwards, forcing her back even further to the point her back was at a ninety degree angle to the rail.

"Please!" she begged, her arms growing weak from the strain of keeping her body up. With a flick of his wrist he pulled her back up and tossed her aside like a rag doll. She stumbled, tripping over her own legs to land on her rear. He laughed out loud as she flushed in humiliation, momentarily forgetting her fear in the relief she felt for being back on solid ground.

Shakily she stood up, her knees wobbling like jelly. He watched her struggle to regain her balance, laughing to himself like it was the funniest thing he had ever seen. She looked up at him, the fear from before creeping back into her features as his laughter died down and he met her gaze. He smirked at her. She gulped.

"You should be more careful little one. Human life is such a fragile thing, one little slip up is all it takes for it to shatter into nothing" His voice was dark and dripping with malice, silent promises of torment laced in every syllable. Anzu wrapped her arms around herself tightly, as though it would somehow protect her from the madman standing before her.

"I wouldn't have fallen back if you hadn't snuck up on me." She had meant to sound confident in her retort but her voice wavered. She was still shaken from the fear of being so close to him and his grinning face told her he knew it too.

"Oh? But wasn't it I who stopped you from falling over the edge? If I hadn't caught you who knows what tragic fate could have befallen you" Anzu glared at him, irritated by his sarcastic tone. He laughed at her pathetic show of anger. It was so obvious she was terrified and even though she was trying to hide it behind some small spark of bravado he could see it past it, see the urge to flee from him, the instinct to cower in his presence. The pure fear she felt for him. It was almost sensual. Arousing. But then he remembered she was the Pharaoh's little whore and that killed any brief feelings of lust he was feeling for her. Any woman that panted at the Pharaoh's heels like a dog in heat was just disgusting and definitely not worth a first thought let alone a second one.

Neither one said a thing for a while, simply standing opposite one another waiting for the other to make the first move. A sharp wind blew, catching them both off guard. Anzu shuddered, wincing at the lash of cold against her bare arms. She felt so stupid for coming out here now or at least for not bringing a jacket. She heard Marik grunt and looked up, fighting back a laugh at the sight before her. Marik's cape had rose in the wind and flapped over his head like a sheet, blanketing him from the shoulders up.

'Serves you right' she thought smugly, smirking at his failed attempt to pull his cape back down when it got caught in the mess of spikes that made up his hair. He tugged harder and it only seemed to catch on another part of his head. It was actually pretty funny and if it was anyone else she might have even laughed. But her smirk quickly fell when he succeeded in pulling it off, glaring at her like it had somehow been her fault. She gulped, stepping back as he growled at her.

Marik was angry. He was always angry but right now he was particularly angry at Anzu. Not because of his cape but because she didn't take the opportunity to flee. He had been momentarily blinded, she could have run away and he would have been too distracted to notice. Was she stupid? He knew she was afraid so why was she just standing there?


Perhaps she didn't fear him enough.

Well he would fix that.

He growled, advancing on her with quick strides. Anzu squeaked in fear, stepping back rapidly but not daring to turn her back to him. Her back collided with the metallic wall next to the door. She tried to dive right but all too quickly his hands slammed into the wall either side of her, his arms caging her in. She looked pleadingly into merciless lavender and he glared in response. A full minute passed and he hadn't done anything but glare at her. Slowly the fear ebbed away replaced by confusion. Was he going to do anything more than just glare at her?

Honestly Marik himself wasn't sure. What was he doing? He couldn't physically harm her but neither could he let her walk away unscratched from this encounter. He would like to think that nearly plummeting to her doom had traumatised her somewhat, but as she stared at him with a baffled expression he had a feeling it hadn't affected as much as he would have liked. Why? Why was he even doing this? If he couldn't hurt her than why did he even approach her in the first place? Because she had been crying. That's right. She was crying and he wanted to mock her weakness. He smirked darkly, satisfied when he saw the fear return instantly to her features at the sight. He leaned closer, blocking her view of everything but him.

"Tell me something little one" he began smoothly, his gaze never leaving her own "What could make someone so very disgustingly happy as yourself cry?" Her reaction was instantaneous. Her eyes widened in shock a moment before narrowing in embarrassment, a deep flush staining her cheeks.

"That's none of your business "she snapped lowly. He grinned, expecting such a response. He tilted his head, leaning closer so his cheek brushed against hers. She flinched at the contact, his lips against the sensitive skin of her ear sending a chill down her spine that had nothing to do with the cold air around them.

"Would you like to know what I think makes you cry my dear?" he paused letting the tension build in her as she silently awaited his answer "I think it has something to do with the Pharaoh" Her body tensed immediately. His grin stretched from ear to ear, laughing softly at her reaction. "Hit the nail on the head I see" he purred, pulling away to look at her face. What he saw made him shiver in delight.

"You don't know anything" she hissed, making no attempt to hide the dark emotions she was feeling at that moment.




All of them crudely mixed in a smouldering glare from darkened blue eyes. He tingled. These emotions were his. They were what made him so very rotten. And now she was showing them. Corroding her image of a good little girl. Good girls can't glare with that much pure hate. He liked it. He liked making her feel these emotions. They suited her. Made her so much more- what was the word for it? - Beautiful? No not quite but similar. Made her so much more, more...


"Oh don't I?" he cooed "Then let me guess; you told the Pharaoh you loved him and he rejected your feelings like they meant nothing"

"Not even close" she scoffed

"But it does have something to do with your feelings for the Pharaoh doesn't it?" Her eyes narrowed to slits giving him all the answer he needed. Now what could it be? If it wasn't the sting of rejection she was crying over then what could it be?

In his musing he had failed to notice Anzu subtly shifting down the wall behind her, her eyes locked on the gap under Marik's arm. It wasn't until he felt the smooth touch of her hair under his elbow that he realised she was escaping. Snarling, he snapped his arm out, catching her by the wrist before she could get away. She cried out sharply but the wind muffled over her cry into nothing. He twisted her arm behind her back, slamming the front of her body into the wall and crushing her against it with his own form.

"It's not polite to leave in the middle of a game" he growled into her ear, truly irritated at her for trying to flee. But why? Didn't he want her to flee? To show she was scared of him. Yes. Of course he did. So why did he stop her? Why didn't he want her to go? Why? He wanted to be alone.



Always lonely.

She struggled, kicking the wall in an attempt to push herself back but he was stronger, keeping her firmly pressed between the wall and himself.

"Get off me!" she screeched, flailing her free arm behind her blindly. He growled, her nails narrowly missing his eye as they scraped his cheek. With his free hand he grabbed her wrist, squeezing the bones together tight enough to make her cry out, holding it outstretched above her head against the wall. She tried to pull her arm free but his grip on her wrist only squeezed tighter in warning. She stopped struggling, breathing heavily against the pressure of having her chest crushed against the wall. He was breathing heavily as well but for a much more sinister reason. Having her fight against him like this excited him. She wasn't afraid of him. Fear had been replaced with anger and hate. She was like him now. Anger, hate and sadness. She was the same as him. He was ...wasn't alone.

"You were crying because you know he'll never accept you" Anzu's eyes widened in shock at the soft whisper. No malice, no mocking tone. Just soft "You don't have to tell him to know you'll be rejected because you know he could never return your feelings" She let the words sink in. She wasn't sure which was less believable; the gentle tone coming from Marik's mouth or that he had guessed right.

She had already gone through this conversation a million times in her head. The Pharaoh was destined to leave them. There was just no way he would be able to love her. He cared for her too much for that and would never willingly add to the heartache she would feel when he left them. Even if there was a sliver of hope that the ancient spirit felt the same, he knew it wouldn't last and the pain they would feel being torn apart would be so agonising they'd wished they were never together in the first place.

It was cruel.

Fate was so very cruel.

Marik watched her silently, knowing he had gotten it right. He could see the fresh tears gathering in her eyes. Pain. He had caused her pain. So why wasn't he enjoying it? Part of him was, proud he had brought her to the brink of tears without having to physically hurt her but something tingling in the back of his mind was telling him to wipe the tears away before they fell.




Why did he want to stop her pain?

He liked her anger, her hatred and depression. He liked she was like him. He liked her.

...Liked her?


No that wasn't right, he hated everyone, he hated everything. He was a being of hate. Hate, pain, anger, depression. They were him, he was them. Like wasn't an emotion he knew. He knew want, envy, greed, gluttony. Lust. But it was more than that, he wanted more than her body. He wanted her. He wasn't alone with her. The loneliness was gone when she was with him. He liked that. He wanted that.




He didn't.

He couldn't!

He could never want someone like her. Someone so close to the Pharaoh. Someone who loved the Pharaoh. Someone, someone who would never tell the Pharaoh she loved him. Someone who would suffer silently in her heartache. Pain. She would feel pain. She would never be accepted.




Anzu's breath hitched in her throat. What was he doing? Marik's lips trailed up her throat to her jaw nipping at the skin and soothing it with a kiss. She watched in muted horror as his tongue lapped out, trailing back down her neck to her collarbone.

"Wh, What are you doing?" He didn't answer, nuzzling his nose into the nook where her shoulder and neck met "Stop it" he mumbled something against her throat. She didn't have time to decipher his words before she cried out in pain, his sharp fang like teeth digging into her skin. "Stop it!" she began to struggle again. Her wrist came out of his grip easily. She pushed back, freeing herself of his hold completely. Her neck burned as Marik's canines were forcibly dragged away, leaving deep welts in their wake. She pushed him away, staring at him in a mixture of fear and confusion.

He raised his eyes to hers, dark lavender orbs that previously held only contempt for her now burned with a fierce possessive gaze. She shuddered, turning and running inside the blimp. Running to the safe warm rooms and cosy beds.

Running from him. But that was okay. He didn't mind if she ran. It didn't matter. He would just catch her. Catch her and cage her. Keep her beside him forever. Because she was his now.

He wanted her.

And he would have her.

(Looks at readers) Sooo... anybody want more of this or should I leave it as a one shot?