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"...Pharaoh?"
Atem startles, eyes snapping open as he sits up from the yellow stone floor of the Millenium Puzzle's inner maze. It wasn't like he'd been sleeping, being a spirit tied to an ancient Egyptian artefact and everything, but he still likes to pretend sometimes, especially after his connection with Yugi had begun. The Living boy had had more of an influence on him than either of them realised.
Speaking of which...
Atem concentrates, projecting himself somewhat into Yugi's front mind. He can feel the way the body relaxes as he does so with a twinge of self-satisfaction. "Yes, Yugi? Is something the matter?"
Yugi is silent for an uncomfortably long period of time, prompting Atem to take a full, ghostly form resting on the end of his bed. The boy is shivering a little, wrapped in blankets that he fidgets with with both hands. He deliberately doesn't look at the spirit he called upon, poor poker face letting the Pharaoh see right through him.
"Pharaoh..." Yugi eventually begins before cutting himself off. "Atem," he corrects, swallowing.
Atem tilts his head slightly at the use of his true name, tucking his long limbs in closer but deciding not to say anything just yet as Yugi gathers his courage.
"Are you... actually my friend? I was just thinking, and... well, do you actually like me, or are you just nice to me because I'm your 'host' or something?"
Never has Atem been more thrown for a loop. Never has a question baffled him more entirely than what his slightly opaque ghost ears have just picked up.
"What brought this on?" Is all Atem can murmur, brow furrowing.
Yugi finally looks at him before immediately tearing his eyes away again. "It's nothing, really. Just something I heard. Somewhere. I'm probably just overthinking again, huh?"
One dry laugh later, and Atem is still not fully satisfied. However, despite his reservations, he relents. "Hmm, perhaps." The Pharaoh shifts a little, just enough to place an intangible, yet somehow comforting hand on Yugi's knee. "Yugi, you know that I am your friend. You never need to doubt that."
A beat, and Yugi smiles, still looking a bit nervous but clearly shaking it off more and more as time goes on. "Pfft, yeah, duh. Sorry to bother you."
"It's really no trouble."
"...I should get to sleep. Sorry."
Atem nods, taking his hand back. "Yes, you should. It's rather late and you have school tomorrow."
"...Goodnight, Atem."
"Goodnight, Yugi."
~~~
"GET OUT OF MY HEAD."
"IT'S MY HEAD NOW, MARIK."
For FUCK'S sake, Marik has had ENOUGH of this lousy spirit. It was one of the most annoying things on this damn planet, constantly pestering him about all sorts of things.
'Marik, we need to take over the world!' 'Marik, let's kill that random person!' 'Marik, I need to watch my soaps!' IT NEVER ENDED. Marik cannot even have one minute without that grating voice in his ears.
Look, the Millenium Rod is cool and all, and sure, ruling the world seems pretty fun, but it happened to come with a pretty big turn-off of a bonus feature.
"Stop being a pain, or..." Marik blanks, biting his lip. What did one say to threaten a spirit?
"Or WHAT, mortal?"
Marik lights up deviously, smirking at the dark, empty room in front of him. "Or I'll NAME YOU."
"...what?" The spirit is quiet for a few seconds before bursting out in raucous laughter that made Marik's head spin. "You'll give me a NAME???" It cackles harder, keeling over mentally. "Ooh, I'm so scared!"
"You should be, Melvin," Marik grins, breathing a sigh of relief when the spirit drops abruptly to dead quiet again.
"Don't call me that."
"What're you gonna do, Melvin? Melv me?"
"What the-? THAT'S NOT EVEN A WORD."
"It is now! Look at you, Melving all over the place like the champion Melver you are."
"STOP IT."
"MELVIN THE MELVER! THAT'S YOUR NAME!"
"I WILL KILL YOUR ENTIRE FAMILY."
"By Melving them to death?"
The spirit screams, and it's music to Marik's ears.
~~~
"Look," Bakura starts, trying to keep a somewhat level head as he stares at the strange, scarred man in the mirror. "I don't really like you, and you seem to hate me-"
"You got that right," the spirit in the mirror grumbles, tucking a rogue strand of white hair behind his ear. (Don't worry, it has not escaped Bakura’s notice how similar they look.)
Bakura clears his throat with a tea-filled sigh. "But I think," he continues, "we can work this out. You need to use my body for... whatever you're trying to do, and I don't really mind as long as no one's getting hurt."
The spirit grins to himself, and Bakura shoots him a deadly side eye which, of course, is not threatening at all considering it's Bakura.
"No one's getting hurt, right?"
"Sure. Whatever," the spirit waves a hand flippantly, rolling his eyes. "Look," he starts after catching Bakura’s warning look, "your little… collective will be fine. Eventually. And after lots of... what do you have now... therapy."
"What?" Bakura almost tears the Millenium Ring off his neck again but pauses at the panicked protests from the mirror.
"I was kidding! Kidding! Come on, kid. Just let me do what I need to do, and I promise you, you'll be fine."
"And my friends?"
"You think they're your friends? They barely look at you!"
"..."
"Fine. I won't hurt them. Too badly," he adds under his breath, lucky that Bakura doesn't hear him. Why couldn't he have gotten a host body that just sat down and shut up? Just his luck.