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If you post

Comment and I will...
1. Respond with something random about you.
2. Tell you which color you remind me of.
3. Tell you my first memory of you. (Or, you know, make one up.)
4. Tell you what animal you remind me of.
5. Ask you something I've always wondered about you.
6. Tell you my favorite thing about you.
7. Tell you my least favorite thing about you. (Well, maybe.)
8. Challenge you to post this on your journal.
9. Pump my fist in the air!!!
10. Drink more Tea! water!
11. Tell you the time.
12. Reply with an amusing Youtube video.

*wakes up from hibernation*

Mh? what day is it?
*blinks at the calender*
*rushes around* Oh dear lord I have nothing to show for it. I haven't finished my Olympic fic, I am way behind on the cataloguing . WHAT HAVE I BEEN DOING?
*pile of books for school drop on her head*

No but seriously life has been throwing fast balls at me lately and couple that with the development of a new CharacterCollapse ) including the development of his WikipageCollapse )

So yeah. I have six books to read on the first nations of the Mississippian tribe for class, a paper due every three weeks and the Vancouver Olympics to fan-girl over
: /
Still at least I have chicken right?

Collaring (gift fic)

Name of Recipient:Ducky chan
Type of Gift: Fanfiction
Title: Collaring
Summary: The Affairs of Nations are seldom simple, and Italy finds this out the hard way.
Author Notes: Oh boy. Okay first time writing angsty/emotional. I tried and I hope your holidays are well. And sorry no porn though if you would like I will try to type up and after story. 

It was a rather nice thing, Italy thought as he nervously glanced through the window of the leather store, all soft green leather, shining silver buckles and even the option, if his German didn’t escape him, the ability to emboss your pets name on the side. It even came with a matching leash.

Italy watched as a man and a woman walked into the bondage store and tried to assuage the jealousy with in him as he spotted a collar around the woman’s neck instead turning back to the window to look at anything but the collar.

After all he wouldn’t be getting one.

Germany would never be able to give such a thing, not with all the meaning behind it.


He gazed a moment longer through the window before turning away back to the streets around him, trying to ignore the deep cold that seeped into his light suit.  It was nearly Christmas in Berlin and though the cold was not fierce it was much more than he would have encountered in Italy.

It had all started when Italy had decided to surprise Germany during the day to bring a little happiness to his grumpy friend. He had nearly been able to see the blush that would creep over the blonds face as he tugged him from his office and down the street. He could have recited the half hearted protests of work and no time, though the large hand would never tug itself free.

It was a dance they did every time he came.

It was no secret to either they cared deeply for each other. The two of them had bonded deeply during the war. Germany had given him permission to come over any time he wished and the Brunette would often do so unannounced.

He would take Germany out to dinner or perhaps to a film or even just walk around Berlin looking at the world around them. Sometimes if the day went right they would go home for drinks and then retire to a special room.  There the countries stone face would drop and the loud demanding voice would drop to a deep husky whisper as he spoke the others name. There was no Germany and Italy in this room, but just Ludwig and Feliciano and the toys.

It was heaven.

It was this thought that brought the Italian to Berlin that day. He wanted to spend the Holidays with the stoic man, because some where along the line the flighty country had figured out that to see those glimpses of Ludwig one must pull him away from Germany. It wasn’t easy but Feliciano was if anything patient.

So the man had burst through the doors of the Reichstag, past the guards, who by now had given up stopping him for inspection and threw the door of Germany’s office wide open with out any other thought in his head but to see the blond look up with that cute expression of shock and surprise at the intrusion.
He should have thought more though, as he had burst in on Ludwig bending over the desk, legs spread, head in his arms. He was panting as his brother prepared him for some “German reunification”
Italy had winced and backed out the door quickly before the two nations saw. He stood a moment collecting himself; after all it wasn’t uncommon for nations to have relations. He took a deep breath and began to walk away slowly, his body shaking and shivering uncontrollably as he pushed past the guards who looked at each with muted worry. It wasn’t that he was surprised at the scene. It was the way it worked. He and his brother had done it, had forged a connection that way. Sex for a country was no more than a means to a goal. He had learned that on Grandpa Rome’s knee. Countries used sex to bring peoples together, to strengthen ties and to keep the land healthy. Countries did not own their own bodies, the people did. It was a countries duty and privilege to serve them. Germany was doing just that.


“It’s for the best” he had muttered.


So Italy  came to be standing in front of a leather stored shivering in the cold trying once more to let those lessons comfort him as they had so many times before. 


They had brought him peace when Rome had died

“It’s for the best.” He had sobbed

They had given him strength when Austria worked him hard and long

“He serves his people as I do.” He had reasoned

When he had watched the Holy Roman Empire leave they steeled his resolve

“It a privilege to protect our people.” He had whispered over and over as the caravan became dots on the horizon.

They had consoled his conscious when he had betrayed Germany in the War.

“It is our duty to serve their will” he said as he signed the surrender treaty.


A cool wind whipped down the street sending the Mediterranean native scurrying for the shelter of his hotel room. He order room service and took a shower before laying down and curling up a pillow pressed to his chest as if to hold in the remains of his broken heart. He was being foolish, he thought as he watched the clock on the hotel room wall keep the time,  it was not as if the other nation had ever given him a signal that there time together was anything more than strengthening of International relations. He had done the same over the years. Hadn’t they gotten together with the whole of Europe anyway for the Union thing?


Italy had to admit that had been fun.


Still the act of seeing the blond eye nation bent over his desk, his legs spayed and his hips bucking in pleasure had made the vague ideas of International relations very clearly and suddenly real.

Italy chuckled, his laughter almost hysteric, it had become clear with the utmost of German efficiency. The chuckle caught throat and once more he was sobbing, not his wail of fear that was so well known but a soft knelling broken by ragged gasping breaths.


It was different with Germany, he had thought, different because Germany made him feel safe, the way he spoke his name, the way those broad hands would dance across his skin, the way he had treated him as a human, a person who belonged to himself and had chosen to give himself to another fully. He had felt cared for when he had thanked him each night, and let the smaller man cuddle against his chest. Italy could almost feel those arms wrapped around him now.

Italy had come to cherish these feelings, cherish the small kindnesses he was given by the blond. He knew he was considered useless by many and though he tried his best he knew he would never be what he had once been: a strong country worth being allied with. He had loved the thought that Germany was kind enough to still care for him. He had loved the small smile that would some times break through the stoniness he was famed for, or the slight blush that would flash across the others face. The movements of Germany, so punctual and precise amazed him, almost as much as the occasional clumsy movement that would be made.

He loved the sight of those blue eyes dancing with humor that many would miss in its simple complexity.

He loved the smell of grease and paper and heated metal that would come off Germany as he walked his streets.

He had loved the panicked sound in his voice when Italy had wandered across the busy Autobahn to pick up a stray cat.

He loved everything Germany gave him and all the things he didn’t.

He sobbed until the darkness and warmth washed over him carrying his mind into dark dreamless oblivion.  His last thought as he drifted off was:  I love Ludwig, and that is very bad indeed.


Italy awoke the next morning at 11:00 to a pounding on the door.

“Italy! Open the door.”

“Go away” Italy, whispered, eyes screwed shut knowing full well who was calling him and not trusting himself to meet those blue eyes that he so admired…

‘Love’ a Traitorous voice in the back of his head hissed.


“Italy.” The voice sounded worried as only Germany could. “The guards said you came up to my office yesterday. I must have been busy to miss you.”


‘You were busy alright.’  The voice said and Italy squeezed his pillow over his head, trying to ignore the urge to fling open the door and cry into his friends shoulder.


“Italy… You could have called me on my Handy...” The voice was hesitant almost pleading, confusion very much evident and even a little bit of hurt.


“I-I am not feeling well.” He said, hating himself for lying but knowing he would hate himself more if he let this charade go on. “I will be flying out tomorrow” This was at least true. “I don’t want to be sick on the plane.”




There was a rustle outside the door and then the voice spoke again. “I brought you a present. I will leave it out here.” There was a pause and then. “If… If you want to see me you know where I am.”


With that he was gone.


Italy had to admit he didn’t expect himself to hold off as long as he did before he threw the covers off and opened the door. Still five minutes was long enough. He looked down and there on the rug was a long thin box made of cherry wood. Italy brought it in and set it on the bed before sitting down and examined the box closely.


The wood was plain and simple, but smooth as silk and stained with the hands of a master wood worker. The clasps, finely detailed brass pounded to look like Lilies and forget-me-nots.

“Italy… forget me not.”

Italy growled and pushed the flowers meanings aside. He was foolish to think that Germany would really mean such a thing. It was probably nothing more than pretty clasps to appease a fuck buddy.  

As the thought struck him another followed on its heels. Of course! The guards had told their boss he had been there and probably what time too! Ludwig was always looking at the clock; he must have immediately known what Feliciano had walked in on. He must have gone out to try and find a way to apologize. A pretty little present for the pretty little air head, that’s all this was.


He nearly threw the box across the room at that thought. Instead he tightened his grip on the box and stood, grabbing his jacket and with all the righteous fury of a pissed off Italian he strode out the door.


Germany was going to get it.


Germany lived in a large manor house in the suburbs of Berlin. Italy had always like it. It was not like his with columns and murals, and windows that looked out over a vineyard, but it was a simple house, with elegant lines and neutral paint that gave the house a clean look. The walls were old though, covered with vines and an ornate gate.


Italy, who was still seething didn’t notice that the gate was unlocked as he threw it open, nor the dogs, who would normally come running, put in their kennel, nor that the door was left ajar and the lights dimmed. He could barely think above the clamor of emotions in his head, Shame for having fell in love, anger at the petty appeasements the German had given, Foolishness for being played so, regret for finding out, and most of all pain, blinding pain flashed with every heartbeat reminding him that he had given his heart to a man who saw their relationship as nothing more than a business.


Up the stairs he rushed, ignoring the flowers scattered all over the normally clean floors, down the hall which smelled strangely like roses, into the library which had a nice light supper set out on the table and threw open the doors of their secret room.




There was no one in the room, the air was stale and the toys still neatly in rows and Italy, in the face of the place where he most felt connected to Germany, felt the anger leave him. He sank to the floor letting the box fall and watched as the lid fell forward and out tumbled an object.


The collar from the window.


Italy thought about the collar before him. Germany had taught him enough in their time together for the symbolism to sink in. In the world of kinks the collar represented owner ship, given in love and trust by the one wearing it. It was a binding to another, a sign of love and a sign of control by consent. To give such a thing was a commitment.


With shaking fingers he picked up the small strip of leather and turned it over. On the side his name gleamed in the light from the door way. He shivered, confused at this gesture, so much grander than he would have expected from Ludwig, yet so soon after he had…

“Schatz?” he jumped at his nickname and turned to see Ludwig dressed all in leather and looking confused. “You are early. I wrote on the card to come at 8:00…”

“G-germany?” Feli said. He stood.

“Feliciano, you know it’s Ludwig in here.” He muttered moving forward and examining his lover with piercing blue eyes. “Why are you not ready?”

Feliciano pulled himself up and glared. “Y-you… How dare you after what you did! T-this means nothing.” He shook the collar. “You give this to me a day after you… you… “his hands flailed as he searched for the best term he could. “You let Gilbert fuck you. You know we can’t have this and you rub it in my face. You play with my emotions and appease me like some pet. I know I am not the strongest or the smartest but I thought you valued me.” He was crying now. “It’s not fair, it’s not fphm-“

The Italian felt lips crush to his own and strong arms wrap around him. He stiffened, but relaxed as he felt the other man slide his tongue forward to claim his mouth and plunder it. Feliciano gripped the broad shoulders to steady himself and returned the kiss, his emotions cooling as the kiss heated up. He wrapped his arms around the others shoulders and pulled back.
”Ludwig?” he questions.

The blue eyes locked with his amber one and Feliciano at once felt ashamed for ever doubting the love that burned in his partners eyes.

“Feliciano,” The prim voice was gone replaced with a soft voice, filled with emotions. “I didn’t know you had seen that.” He pulled the Italian to the bed in the center of the room and sat him down.”

“Ludwig, you don’t have to explain I.”

“I do. Your right, I can’t promise my body to only you. I must serve my people.” Feliciano bowed his head to hide the tears threatening. He knew this. Ludwig didn’t feel as he did.  He tried to stand and leave, thinking only of nursing his heart, when he felt himself pulled into a hug.

“I can promise that I will love you above all others. My Mind and Soul will only be yours.” The blond whispered. “Feliciano I love you. Please. Take the collar.”

Without a sound the Italian pulled back, looking at the collar that was still clenched in his hand. For a long moment there was silence and then, taking a deep breath Feliciano lifted the collar to his neck and fastened it.

“I accept.”

Feliciano smiled and slipped forward to cuddle into Ludwig, and closed his eyes, feeling the leather snug to his neck. Its weight was that of a promise to be kept.

“I love you Ludwig.”

Remember Mattie day (fic)

Pairing: Matt/Al
Reason posting: some one needs to read this.
Comments: I need to let others read it to see their reactions


 Matthew had, over the centuries, become accustomed to his brother strangeness. It was hard not to when your brother was America, but lately Al had been acting more strange than usual.


It had started when Al’s old boss came into power, Al became distant from his brother, and even more so when his people had been attacked. He had stopped visiting, getting wrapped up in his war. Even when Matt had started sending troops the Relationship had been strained.


So it was a huge surprise when Al had burst into his office one day, not long after his latest boss had been elected, and declared it to be “Remember Mattie Friday.” He was so excited to see his brother he had spilt coffee all over the latest lumber reports Matt had been Okaying.


“Al…” he started, trying very hard not to loose his Temper. “What can I help you with?”


This was the wrong question because it only made his brother talk faster.


 From what Matt could gather, between to rapid fire plans being made and his brothers exclamations of how awesome his idea was, his brother felt horrible for forgetting Matthew and that he now wanted to make it a weekly thing to come over and take Matt out. Al had smile brightly at his brother’s polite refusals, citing that his brother worked too hard and that he wanted to hang out.


So it was that every Friday since then his brother had rushed into his office, smiling at the woman at the front desk (who by now had stopped trying to stop the man, figuring he was just an act of god) and pulled his brother back to his car. They had gone to amusement parks, museums, plays and movies, and even had managed to get a tour of The White House out of Al’s boss.


Matt, much to his dismay, had heard the women around the offices talking. After all they had never known Matthew to have a girlfriend or a wife, and now a handsome young man came to get him every Friday. It was enough to convince most of them he was batting for their team.


Even when Matt had told Al this, while ringside at a college Hockey tournament, Al had laughed and told him to let them talk. After all Al said, “Is it worth not having a good time because of what a bunch of old fuddy-duddies say?”


Matt had to admit that it was fun, his brother’s enthusiasm was infectious and Matt had long ago stopped fighting it, instead canceling his meetings on Fridays and packing an overnight bag. He found himself looking forward to them in an almost nervous way, wondering what they would be doing next.


He just wished the he could stop the rumors. It was kind of annoying now that everyone asked who his boyfriend was, and only laughed when he tried to tell them it was his brother!


This week was to be a camping trip, and like clockwork Matt had been dragged out off the office, thrown in the back of Americas Sports Utility Vehicle and driven across the border.


They managed to get lost three times, and finally Matt had to force Al to pull over so Matt could ask for directions, while his brother unpacked and repacked the car looking for his map (which had been in the glove compartment).  Matt had come back with directions and they were soon back on the road.


“Where are we going?” Matthew asked after about 3 hours of driving along the highway. 


Al grinned and turned on to the back roads. The car bumped on the back country roads. “New York gave me a hot tip about this neat little campsite he says is awesome this time of year.”


About three bumpy miles later they had pulled into a clearing and gotten out. The woods looked like they had been cut down, the wood was second growth. He watched his brother get out and stretch, before turning around and grinning.


“Here we are.”


Matt got out and looked around. The area was a cliff over looking a large stretch of Valley below. There was a rushing sound in the back ground which meant that they were probably camped right near a waterfall.


There was a small lean-to and a fire pit, though both looked like they had not been used for a long time. The ground was covered with leaves and sticks so it seemed like the “Hot tip” Al had gotten had been a rather old one.


“We will have to do some cleaning up.” Al said as he shuffled around in the back before pulling out some rakes and handing one to his brother.


They worked quickly and soon the two of them were finished. Al panted as he leaned on the rake. He pulled a hand through his golden blond hair and looked up at the sky. Matt paused as he looked up from where he had pulled out the tent. For a moment he wondered if his brother meant to look like a poster or if he just naturally fell into the poses that looked aesthetically perfect.

Al turned at that precise moment and grinned widely.  

“Well let’s put up the tent, I heard there was a swimming hole around here and I am hot.”  

‘You can say that again.’ Matt thought.



It had taken a couple of tries and nearly poking each others eyes out but finally the tent had gotten up. They had patted each other on the backs and Alfred had gone to the truck to get his swim trunks and Matt’s.


Matt looked around the campsite and considered the fact that Al had really planned this all out. It was pretty far thinking for his brother to have done this, and the fact that he had done it all for him gave Matthew the Warm fuzzies.


“Matt I lost the swim trunks.”


There went the warm fuzzies.


“You what?” he said hoping this was just a bad joke. “How did you do that?”


“Well it’s more like I lost our bags which had our clothes and food and swim trunks in it.” Al said looking innocently bewildered. “I must have left them at the place you asked for directions.”

Matt growled and in a fit of fury at his brother’s stupidity he lunged, missing as Alfred moved back, laughing and charged off in the opposite direction. Matt followed, half amused and half wanting to kill his brother.


Al ran and soon they were at the swimming-hole Al stopping short only to be crashed into by Matthew both of them tumbling head first into the water.


When Matthew came up from under the water the first thing he heard was his brother laughing wildly. He opened his eyes and saw his brother, bent over laughing, a small Lilly pad on his head.


 Matt felt all the anger drain from him as he laughed, lunging at his brother tacking him as the two splashed around in the swimming hole, tickling and laughing. They rolled in the water, turning up muck and grime.


It was well past dusk when the two of them stopped wrestling, and lay panting on the shore line staring up at the stars that were twinkling into existence.


Matt sighed.

“Hey ..”




“Today was perfect.”




Matt found himself pinned to the ground and his brother leaning over him, leaning in to give him a light kiss on the lips.


“Now it’s perfect.”


Matt thought for a moment and then smiled up.


Al was right, he thought as he leaned up for another kiss.

Vermont Qaudcon morning con

Val smiled and when the boys came in and settled down and Val served them.
"Where is the idiot?" Little Rene said only to be glared at by val. "I mean Quebec..."
*does her mid term instead*
So I was driving to a fair to cosplay when I drove through the town I live next to I saw a bunch of British flags and at least three Canadian flags and one  Quebec flag
Now me being a hetalia fan I pulled over and stared at a sign that annouced "Welcome to the British invasion for about five minutes trying to decide If I should go to the Fair or stay here and sqeee.
(pics in my scrap book)

I have a British teacher and I must say she teaches the most boring subject ever... but It helps me study to imagine she is Arthur.

America drabble

this was written half for kink meme and half for 9/11


sky blueCollapse )


 Thats right due to my job I am currently chillin' in the holyoke mall and am proud to annouce I am fangirlling it up! 

story. Geeze I am posting like crazy

Disclaimer: I have four actually

This is a gender bending fic that becomes a yaoi, and this is accomplished by way of magic, don’t like a wizard did it? Don’t flame.

I realize this is canonically way off but its fan fiction, don’t look at it too closely and just enjoy the show

I have a goddess that I have done extensive research into and have formed an idea of what to do with. She is real and I have only given her a looks update.  Don’t like Characters that didn’t strictly appear in the anime/manga? Don’t flame 

Finally nothing in this story really belongs to me, not even the goddess; she belongs to the Babylonian who founded her religion. All others are trade mark the company who makes yu-gi-oh.


Malik sighed, blinked his eyes tiredly, and leaning back slightly in his chair.  It had been a long day for him, between hauling the exhibits around the museum, and his sister deciding that having a child was an experience whose pain had to be shared, he was exhausted. The seer had run him ragged as he searched the shops of Cairo for, of all things, sour gummy worms and tartar sauce.  He had been putting up with his sisters cravings for a good month and they were getting harder to explain to the clerks with each new combination.

He considered picking up the phone and calling Yugi but decided against it. It was late in Japan, Yugi must have been sleeping or playing with the pharaoh on the video game system that the pharaoh had purchased with his first pay check.

Malik smiled as he thought of the pharaoh, who after the duel that had freed the young host of his responsibilities to him had walked away into the after world to live in peaceful bliss for the rest of eternity.

At least that’s what they had thought. Not six months later Malik had been called to investigate a break in at the museum and found, sitting quietly on the floor playing with some game stones, none other than Atemu and The thief king themselves.  The only things they could get out of the two were that they were there to stay, by the will of the gods, and that they wanted some food.

Yugi had gladly accepted Atemu was back, he had been lonely, and was proud to show how much he had grown.   Even though he still worked in the Game shop he had his own apartment which he shared with Ryou and Joey while they all went to university. 

Ryou had been a little more reluctant, having been told  the things that had been done to his friends by said entity. It had taken a lot of wheedling but it was only after Atemu had assured him there had been precaution taken, had Ryou let the ancient thief in the house.

Malik sighed, last check Ryou had been trying to adjust, and it had not been going well. The reason that Bakura, as the other had begun calling the former zorc vassal, had come back was still a mystery as he seemed to hate everything about the culture of the 21st century and tended to be very grouchy.

He closed his eyes and let his mind drift away from the dusty old office to the feel of wind in his hair as he raced across the desert. Free from the burdens of his life in the museum, just a normal 18 year old , not worried about work, his other half, crazy pharaoh who could not seem to stay dead, the will of the gods or even his knocked up sister.

"Malik Ishtar, are you working on that translation?"

Speak of the devil.  

Malik stood, dusted his shirt off, and turned to his sister who stood in his offices door way looking grumpy.  He had to admit that despite the extra weight and constant bad mood, she still looked beautiful. Her blue eyes were set against nearly glowing olive skin and her shining black hair was pulled back in a simple ponytail. She still dressed in a white cotton dress though much to his despair.

“Yes sister I have.” He replied obediently though he felt a rumble in the back of his mind as his other half muttered quietly. Malik thank the gods that his other half had calmed down since his little sojourn in the shadow realm but he was still the same rebellious person he was before.

‘You should tell her off for running you about king’ Malik sighed and pushed the other persona back.  Malik sighed as he clamped his mental control on to Marik, reminding himself quietly not to let the other half used his body to watch bleach, which Yugi delighted in sending him over the internet,  the  nicknames were getting annoying.

Isis sighed lightly as she saw Malik’s eye glaze over; he was talking to his other self again. She was nervous that the Absence of her husband was wearing on the younger Guardian. 

“What have you got so far?” She asked, and smiled when the violet eyes snapped back into focus.  She didn’t like trapping Malik in the museum like this, after all he was the one who preferred to ride all over the desert checking in on the various archeology teams they employed, but without Rishid around she needed someone to take up his job.

The younger of the two walked around the desk, signaling for the other to sit and pulled out the paper he had been writing on.

“It was only a fragment of the poem but it seems to be about scared whores.” Malik looked up with raised eyebrows, “Sacred Whores?”  He knew he should have had heard that term; he had to have, after all this tablet came from one of their own sites.

Isis reached over to the desk picking up a small copper disc that had come with the tablet to be translated. It was a small intricately carved pendent, through the tarnish and the wear you could barely make out woman and a man embracing in a rather intimate way. She had seen many like them, after all fertility symbols were common place.  This one had most likely been dropped by some young woman who had been trying to make a family. After a moment she responded as if quoting a text book . “They were servants of the Goddess Ishtar, matron of among many things: fertility, healing, and war.  It was said that the head of the order would bless the king yearly by spending the night in his company and if she did not the king was not the true king.” She turned the copper disc in her hand and chuckled. “Talk about pressure in the bedroom.  The goddess was renowned for her fickleness and anger if displease so the kings tried their hardest to please the order. She even sent he own husband to hell.”

“I have never heard of a goddess Ishtar, and I think I would have.” Malik said as she looked over the translation.  He felt a little embarrassed that his sister had outstripped him.  Marik laughed ‘Pride cometh’ he taunted.  Malik blanched in embarrassment at his treacherous thoughts but sighed. Was it his fault his sister was such a nerd?

“She wasn’t Egyptian, but rather Babylonian in origin, your education was only really in the Egyptian magic’s.” Isis said as she pushed the paper away “Now about this Amulet that came with this.” She held it up.

“We could shine it up and use it as a door stop.” He sighed “That’s about how much it will be worth.”  He looked at the carving. “I’m not even sure it can be shown to the public without having a censor bar.”  He stood up and began to pack, already feeling the wind on his face. “Now if we are done I hav-“

“I meant what is written on the back of this?” she held up the disc and sure enough there was almost unreadable inscription.  When she saw the disappointment on the younger man’s face she sighed “I can do it. I just need the translation books. You have worked enough today.”

Malik moaned “Rishid would kill me if he knew I let you work half the night on a fertility symbol. “ 

Isis shook her head but didn’t put up a fight, since the near miss on the battle city blimp she had seen Rishid and Malik’s relationship change from master and servant to protective brothers.  Whats more he had suddenly seem to have the revelation that she was, indeed, a woman, who wasn’t really realted to him .

She touched her belly and smiled. This was the result, though she had to admit, she had never seen it coming.

“Sister?” she blinked as she came back to the present.  She smiled and nodded

“You are right brother, Rishid would kill you. I think I shall spare you that fate.” She slowly stood and hugged her brother. “I will see you tomorrow. “she walked to the door and stopped.

“Oh , and could you pick me up some tartar sauce?”

She walked through the door and closed it, chuckling as she heard Malik’s disgusted groan float across the door.

The light from a full moon shone through the window as Malik stared at the copper disc, then turned back to the books.  This was the part of his job he hated, the slow tedious work that occurred more often than the midnight calls about exciting new discoveries that could shake the foundation of the earth.

‘It’s boring isn’t it?’ came the quiet voice from his mind. ‘It’s a life without the items, without the world to save. The others have gotten used to it easily, but you, you still feel like a dog in a too small cage.‘ Marik sighed. ‘They took your teeth my king, they took your teeth.’

Malik set down the disc and scribbled on the paper a bit, adding a letter here and there ignoring the other.  He knew he was right, and though Malik knew that he had hated the problems the items had brought him, he felt like the rest of his life would never compare to those moments he witnessed.

One more word remained. One more word remained in the puzzle.

FOR THE____.

He pushed back from the desk and stretched slowly before refocusing on the paper he had written the rough translation on. It wasn’t that he couldn’t read the word but that the word had been scratched out. Malik supposed that it had been by accident, though the spacing of the words seemed to dispute that. 


“What?” he snapped, jarring his other from the recesses of his mind.

‘I didn’t say anything!’ Said the angry persona before retreating to the back of his mental cave.

Malik sighed and shook his head. That was it, he had been up for way too long. He stood and began to pack up, putting his books away in a stack on his desk, and picking up the pendant and paper. He dropped them in his bag.

‘Taking a note from the thief my king?’

 ‘stop calling me that you psycho, and no I do my best thinking when I am in bed, I may be able to divine the meaning of this poem if I bring it along’  he stopped and turned to lock the door.

‘Malik! King of my heart.’

“That’s a new one Marik, good thing I am gay. “ he chuckled  slightly though the confusion from his other half made him worried, maybe he was losing his mind

‘ Too late for that’


Malik wasn’t sure what time he got home but when he pulled into the drive way of the apartment he shared with his siblings he saw Isis’s light on and knew something was up. He quickly put his kickstand down and rushed up the stairs to his door, bursting into the foyer and down the hall, half expecting his sister to be in labor.

What he found was not something he had ever wanted to see in his life.

Rishid’s naked ass in the air and his sister sprawled on the bed in a rather compromising position.

Marik paused a moment and then mechanically turned around and shut the door before going into the kitchen to grab a beer. 

15 minutes later Rishid strolled into the kitchen, looking sufficiently embarrassed and nodded to him.

“Have a good time?” Malik said teasingly as the other man fixed himself some coffee. After a moment he continued “I am glad to have you back man, really glad.”

They shared a knowing look.

“How was work?”  Rishid finally said.

Malik stopped and thought for a minute, really considering the question.


 “Boring as usual.  How was your trip to the site?”  Malik said, knowing that Rishid’s trip hadn’t been just to escape his wife.  Some new discovery had been found by an American team and the Idiot translator they had brought along had gone and gotten himself sick.  They had called the museum and asked for someone to help. It was they who had sent the pendent and tablet, but they claimed they thought there would be a temple around and needed an onsite translator.  

 “Not much happened, the head archeologist just wanted me to ‘hang around’ until the guy was better. She took the fact that her new discovery was an ancient form of Viagra really well, all things considered. Between the dig and an intern who loved stories about ghosts and tricks, it was the most interesting one I had been to.”

Malik laughed and considered telling him about the voice he had heard while looking at the ‘ancient Viagra’ but thought better of it. Things had just settled down.

 “That’s what she gets for digging around the city of Uruk.”  Isis said as she emerged from her room with a night gown on.   “Welcome home Love.”  She moved to Rishid and kissed him softly.  Malik grinned happily and walked towards  his bed room. “I will leave you two alone.”

“Isis and I actually wanted to talk to you” Rishid said  motioning to the kitchen table. “Your sister and I have been worried, you seem to work constantly and with your schooling over for the year we thought you might want a present

Rishid smiled as his brother-in-laws eyes lit up. “A present?” he said, his voice strained with excitement. “It wouldn’t be the new bike I have been eyeing would it?”

“Um no, it’s not.”  Rishid said, almost laughing as the younger Egyptian deflated as if he were a balloon. “Well if you don’t want it.”  He said turning to walk away.


“Alright alright. We figured you might want to visit Yugi, so we got you plan tickets. We asked Yugi and he would love to meet you again.” He pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to his brother. “So what do you say?”

A chuckle came from behind him “Rishid he was gone the moment you said Yugi. He must be calling Japan.”  His wife slipped over to him. “Let’s go back to bed.  We can talk in the morning, when he’s calmer.”