Yu-Gi-Oh! Fan Fiction ❯ It Was Over ❯ It Was Over Ch. 2 The Memory Arc Compltete ( Chapter 2 )

Summary:

 

It's time for the Ishtar's to once again assist the Pharaoh. Diligently working at the museum are the tomb keepers, especially the youngest Ishtar. He would like nothing better than to be done before a certain reincarnated priest shows up.

 

Left alone in the Arc portal chamber, he is confronted once again by the CEO. Malik's own stumble causes an unexpected arrival of someone thought gone. Who will this third entity assist, or will they all be at odds?

 

Kaiba learns if he can't exact his own revenge, taping the act is almost as good.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Dedicated to: Tenshi no Taki and Yoa-Ling, the only real bronze shippers I know.

 

Usual Generic Disclaimer Here: I do not own any aspects or characters of Yugioh. I do not make any proceeds of the writing or publication of this series.

 

Rated OMG.. Do Not Read!! LOL

 

Hey! Many people demand an explanation as to how something is even possible within a plot. They quickly remove all the fun from the PWP (plot what plot) scenario. So there is an explanation (in my Point of view) given here to help readers understand how this could all happen. I did my best to be creative. I know these are not the actual facts as written by the series creator. If you still feel a need to flame, be my guest.

 

Oh, in the original drawings the artist renderings actually gives the heights of the characters and shows them all standing next to one another. For some reason Yami Yugi is actually about 5 inches taller than Yugi is. So for the purpose of a more enjoyable fic, all the yami's in my episodes will be taller and larger built than their respective host.  

 

On a suggestion from another author I tried to elaborate the family moments with the Ishtar siblings but really it's a moot point. They are only here to help me conspire against Malik.

 

 

~~~~~~~~~:P

 

All the key components were readied for the Memory Arc.

 

The Pharaoh and his friends were led by Shadi's servant into a large room were a mirror like portal glowed. Here were the endless possibilities of lost memories Yami could regain.

 

Isis Ishtar watched all of Yugi's friends accompany the diminutive boy into the sacred chamber, only to witness the white haired one running out, frantically in tears. Her heart hung heavily for the ring bearer, knowing it was the spirit of the ring that caused him to be unworthy to enter. The boy's own heart, or Ib, would then weigh as light as Maat's feather.

 

To everyone coveting them, the items seemed a key to power, but to the keepers their real nature was revealed. Indeed the items seemed to capture and retain trace elements of their former holders.

 

In the cases of the ring and puzzle, the actual spirits of both the Pharaoh and King of Thieves were imprisoned. By separating their Ka's or life force from their bodies and trapping them in to the items, they could never join with their respective Ba's and become whole or Akhs.

 

Instead these two lighter halves of their eternal souls were reincarnated incomplete into the two item's chosen hosts, Yugi Motou and Ryou Bakura. Only when re-united with the items, would the hosts be complete.

 

The scales, ankh, and tauk retained the wielders sheut's or shadows. Naturally these two items sought their reincarnated former hosts to complete the five aspects of the eternal Egyptian soul. Isis herself was again chosen to wear the all-seeing tauk, where Shadi was chosen to wield two items, the ankh and the scales.

 

Both the Sennen eye and rod had both been used in anger by their former hosts, trapping their sheuts or shadows inside the items. Pegasus had been chosen by the already corrupted item as a tool for the unfulfilled rage infused in the shadow of Akhenaden; the unnamed Pharaoh's uncle.

 

Isis knew that the evil part of her brother would not remain trapped in the darkness but instead return to the rod and become part of it. From darkness he was born and to it he would return, Malik's sheut. She was also aware from Battle City that Set's own sheut was also a part of the rod; forever linking Malk and Seto to the item.

 

While she mourned the endless circle of incomplete reincarnations for all concerned, she knew this was the price to pay for all who wielded the items. All except Mahado, whose discipline and purity of heart allowed him to escape the curse of the millennium ring, and become the Dark Magician.

 

She feared for her brother. Should the rod ever be restored to Seto or Malik, their darker selves could be released. For Seto the threat of possession was not as severe. His shadow was that of the 3000-year-old high priest who redeemed himself and fought alongside his pharaoh. Malik's was an actual sentient entity created by Malik from his fear and hate. With the power of the items combined in one location as they were now, the possibilities were endless. The sole controller could act as a minor god here on Earth.

 

All three of the Ishtar children were summoned by Shadi to await the Pharaoh here and assist if possible. Rishid rigidly watched the museum entrance for any who might disrupt the Arc while she and Malik set everything in place and kept on eye out for the ring spirit.

 

Although Shadi's servant Bobasa had taken all up all the items while inside the arc, the elusive ring spirit repeatedly reformed himself on his host at will. What was to prevent the rod from doing the same?

 

Incessant chirping abruptly shook her from her thoughts. Picking up her cell phone “This is Isis Ishtar.” A few moments later she hung up to search for her brothers.

 

Malik was hastily rolling up Mahado's ancient scrolls the keepers had brought with them to initiate the Arc. Other than the portal itself the room was all but empty thanks to the efforts of the youngest Ishtar.

 

Cerulean eyes watched the hard working teen for a moment before interrupting. Her brother worked so diligently now to help the pharaoh regain his lost memories. He really was a changed man since Battle City. They all owed Yami so much for defeating Yami Malik and helping Malik to overcome his dark side. Now Malik's service was not just that to a long dead pharaoh, but to repay a personal debt by his choice. She knew her brother would never truly embrace Yugi and his friends but he really worked on his attitude regarding them.

 

“Malik, the Egyptian consulate here in Japan wants me to come down and secure our passports. I'll have to fill out all the paperwork and answer some questions. I'll probably be away for a few hours with the lunch traffic. I thought I'd pick up lunch on my way back. ”

 

Light amethyst eyes sparkled at the mention of food. Truthfully, all the young male heard was “Meow, meow meow, meow meow meow, lunch on the way back.” Smiling warmly he answered, “Could you get me something spicy? The hotter the better.”

 

Rolling her eyes she sighed, “of course Malik. I wouldn't dream of denying you heartburn.” It really seemed like the old Malik was back for a moment. He ignored all she had said except for the part about food.

 

“I'll ride home with Rishid so you won't have to suffer,” he smirked with the old mischief gleaming in his eyes.

 

“Really Malik, if you didn't insist on rolling up the windows and turning up the heat, I'd be fine with it.” fumed the elegant Egyptian.

 

Chuckling lightly, he waved her off before continuing his work.

 

Rishid stood as a fierce guardian of a gate as his foster sister approached him. “Rishid, I have to go pick up our passports and thought I'd get lunch on the way back. What would you like?”

 

Without hesitation the oldest Ishtar responded, “Whatever Malik-sama wants.”

 

Shaking her head at the predictable response, she silently wondered why she even bothered to ask. “No Rishid,” she continued, “I know what Malik wants. What do YOU want?” She asked emphasizing the word `you'.

 

Hazel eyes narrowed in contemplation before responding, “Malik-sama told you what he wanted?”

 

Sighing at the predictable statement forthcoming, Isis replied dryly, “Yes, he did.”

 

“I'll have what Malik-sama is having,” came his automatic reply.

 

The irked Ishtar sister clenched her fists to her sides and exited the museum.

 

Not a few moments later a determined Seto Kaiba stormed the entrance, trench coat billowing behind, to pass it's guardian with only a curt nod. Rishid acknowledged the piercing blue-eyed high priest with a similar nod before stepping aside.

 

~~~~~~:P

 

Malik was just finishing loading the keeper's materials onto a cart and decided to wipe down the mirror edges. The cloth used on the portal mirrors was a very thick material with the ideal of keeping any other hands from touching the opened portal. Any mishap could upset the balance of the preserved memories by distorting events, taking items from or inserting them into the memory world. If the Pharaoh were confronted by Zork, but unable to access the cartouche with his name, all would be lost.

 

The mirror was in perfect alignment for the last player to enter and the blond Egyptian wanted nothing more than to be gone before the priest showed up.

 

It had been less than a month since his last encounter with Seto Kaiba, leaving the normally feisty blond shaken and subdued. His siblings had immediately noticed and questioned him about his change in demeanor, but Malik merely shrugged. The both had decided it must have been the events of the Battle City tournament and that this was possibly his new persona.

 

Tossing the cloth onto the cart, the pale blond leaned down to brush the dust of his pants.

 

~~~~~~~~:P

 

“Hold that position Ishtar, we can go with that one today,” boomed the ominous form of the reincarnated priest.

 

Jumping back from the wry voice a tanned arm brushed against the mirror's edge. Regaining partial composure, the smaller male stuttered, “I, I didn't see you come in.” Backing away from the taller man, Malik's heel caught on one of the legs of the mirror. He fell backwards on his bottom hard against the back wall behind the portal.

 

Kaiba smirked at the younger male's folly and set down his prized attaché case. Just as he started towards the direction of the Egyptian, sparks erupted from the Arc portal.

 

Both inhabitants watched in awe at a tan pant leg came into view, soon followed by the rest of its owner. Stunned silence followed as the new arrival looked around.

 

A halo of golden hair offset the familiar bronzed face. Malicious dark violet eyes gleaned the silent priest, before resting upon the fallen boy on the floor behind him, as a crazed smirk enhanced his already supernaturally evil features.

 

“Well this looks like fun. I wonder which one of you fools I'll get to destroy first,” stated the disgruntled yami.

 

At this point Malik was on his feet. The three circled the center of the room, all alert and watching for the others to make a move. Two towering forms quickly sized each other up before turning towards the smaller blonde.

 

Malik eyed the door longingly, not unnoticed by the other two, as they moved to cut off his escape. No one was leaving this room.

 

“I just want to leave,” strained the frightened Egyptian.

 

“NO!” shouted the other two simultaneously.

 

“The reincarnated priest doesn't piss me off half as much as you do my weak half,” spat the smiling wild-haired Yami. He glared hungrily at the boy whose life he wanted but had been denied. “I don't need you alive now, sweetheart, I have my own body,” the sickeningly sweet voiced yami purred to his lighter half before mimicking a mock a kiss.

 

Seto Kaiba was not Japan's youngest entrepreneur without good cause. The fast thinking CEO was ever coolly calculating how to work every event to his advantage. Cleverly, the smirking brunette goaded the psychotic yami to his aid. “You know, you can only kill him once. Even beating him isn't going to feel like enough; it's … fleeting. To really have lasting satisfaction, you need something `More'.”

 

Snorting in disbelief that the former high priest would ever really turn the boy over to him without a fight, the yami ventured to ask “And what did you have in mind priest?” Standing erect and crossing his arms he probed further, “What would you know of the thirst for revenge? And why would `You' be after my weaker side?”

 

At this Kaiba knew he had to play it straight to convince the yami he was on the same side. If he failed to persuade the bloodthirsty blond, he could end up having to fend him off. He straightened himself to his full height, clenching his fists to his sides. Narrowed sapphire eyes projected from a face contorted with rage as he deadlocked the wild-eyed yami and spat, “Before you came along, little Malik here thought it would be a bright idea to kidnap my brother and banish him to the darkest reaches of his mind. The boy still wakes nightly screaming and shaking in fear.”

 

The older Kaiba boy exhaled before regaining his cool composure. “If anyone has a cause to hurt him, it's me,” he continued with an evil grin “and I found the `complete and total' reparation. Something he can walk away from with no ramification to me, but never forget.”

 

Not totally sure of the calloused mortals methods, but convinced of his claims, the dark sided Ishtar tilted his head and asked, “So what is this `absolute' retribution? What does it entail?”

 

Malik cringed at the thought of his already condescending darker half having knowledge of what transpired and further tormenting him with it. He unconsciously held himself and looked down as it occurred to him how much his sadistic yami might get off on it; he might even help Kaiba to continue it. Or worse yet, kill Kaiba and just use it nightly to further torture and humiliate his defiant light side. He began to visibly shudder at the thoughts as the graphic memories re-played in his head.

 

The obvious fear displayed by his light satisfied the yami of the priest's methods. He smiled broadly and laughed before regarding the young CEO, “I see my light really took a liking to your treatments. I've never seen him so shaken; I like this new look. What did you do to so totally break him, priest?”

 

Nodding his head, Kaiba responded with, “Follow my lead.”

 

A pink tongue darted out of the sinister yami to lick his lip before turning towards his light.

 

“Don't I get any say in this?” the freaked out blonde blurted out watching the other two descend on him, while trying in vain to back away.

 

“NO!” replied both tormentors in unison.

 

A long arm of the CEO reached swiped at empty air as Malik dodged right and evaded it, but drifted right into the reach of his dark. A strong, bronzed hand ensnared a fistful of creamy blonde hair and used it to lift his struggling quarry eye level with his two captors.

 

Smirking, he beamed at his ally, “Look what I caught.”

 

Smaller, tanned hands clawed frantically at the ones holding him in place. Malik kicked out wildly, swinging his legs.

 

“I see that,” remarked the brunette dryly.

 

Malik latched onto the larger dark arm in an attempt to alleviate the pain to his head, his scalp started to really hurt now with his dark supporting all his weight by his hair. Labored breathing followed his pointless exertions to escape; in truth he knew what was to come was inevitable. At least Kaiba had not been brutal in his sexual humiliation and had even made the Egyptian's first experience somewhat enjoyable. He doubted the now physical form of his hate would be as considerate.

 

In a last silent plea, softened lavender eyes locked with the steely blue of the CEO and a whispered whimper escaped the smaller blonde's mouth.

 

An audible “humph” resounded through the room in answer to the call for mercy. The former priest closed in quickly and with surprising strong hands, latched onto the boy's thighs, securing them around his own hips. Taking full advantage of momentary shock, his mouth covered Malik's, easily slipping in his tongue. Large pale hands firmly slid along the boy's hips and rear, using it to firmly press the other to him. Seto chuckled to himself as he swallowed the boy's moan. Letting the larger of the blonde's continue to support the boy's weight, he released his grip with one hand to move it up Malik's lithe torso. His little Egyptian toy was already starting to perspire, slicking up his path. Long, right-handed fingers stretched around the left side of the boy's slender frame, caressing their way up to his chest. Kneading a brown nipple between his thumb and forefinger, Kaiba could feel the boy trembling into his touch. “Does my naughty Egyptian minx like that?” taunted the CEO.

 

Amused, dark amethyst eyes watched the unorthodox tactics of the priest and his weaker half responses. Never had he seen his other half so easily manipulated. He knew his other half had always sought to dominate every situation. The boy he knew hated losing control, to the point of throwing fits of rage. Above all else he strived for his freedom, even at the expense of others free will. Yet, here in this unfamiliar arena, Malik had no control. The malicious shadow of the other watched his host's unbridled emotional outbursts, the condescending tone used by the former priest, and the abject humiliation inflicted on the boy as his own body betrayed him.

 

Sinister eyes glazed over as their owner became aroused by the sufferings to his more innocent consciousness. Stilling his mind, the shade attuned himself to the boy's and became witness to his thoughts, sharing in his feelings. He knew Malik's frustration over the futility of his struggling, the despondency of his helplessness, and the sense of worthlessness overshadowing his normally confident spirit. He could sense the boy's fear and preyed upon it, fueling his own lust. A pink muscle darted out past his lips, licking hungrily along his captive's neck. He could feel the boy quiver at his touch, tasted his sweat, and his own heightened elation the sensations were causing him; nothing had ever made him feel so `alive' before. No amount of bloodletting, mental or physical torture could ever compare to this. The priest was right; this was `absolute recompense'. Combined with their shared collective conscious feeding him the others mixed raw thoughts directly, it was a smorgasbord. He relished in the sensations, growling lowly.

 

A husky voice regarded the brunette unconditionally, “leave us priest. I want to play with the feral kitten,” the last degradation spoken to impress upon the boy his uselessness.

 

`Shit' fluttered through the young executive's mind, `I know he'll do the job, but I wanted to be a part of it.' Kaiba knew not to force the issue, crossing the psychotic dark would prove lethal. “Fine, I need to be elsewhere anyway. Just don't maim or kill him; it will dampen out all the fun for later.”

 

Crossing the room back to his abandoned brief case, Japan's youngest genius smirked. Lifting the case he set it in place on the portal dais with the handle facing out towards the room and set the alarm. Two lights actively lit up; a steady green one and a blinking red. “Don't do anything I wouldn't do,” he finished smugly before sauntering through the portal.

 

Lavender eyes widened, panicking when the saner of his tormentor's departed so casually, leaving him to the mercy of the darker.

 

Depthless, near crimson orbs drank in the display as he pushed his slighter half to his knees. Not relinquishing the hold on the others hair, he forced Malik to look up. This was his moment; he had waited in the shadows all of the boy's life, but here and now he would completely dominate the one who kept him bound in the furthest recess of their collective conscious. The boy, who used him to survive, keeping him enslaved, would know a new master.

 

He chuckled darkly at the wave of terror washing over from the other's mind. Then unfastened his pants with his left hand, using his right to hold his lighter half secure. Letting go of the fistful of pale blond hair, the yami slid his hand down the back of Malik's neck, holding it firmly. The boy gasped from the rough treatment, leaving his mouth opened slightly.

 

Without realizing he had still been cleaving to his dark's arm, Malik lowered his arms when the pressure on his head withdrew to help support his prone form. A long index finger traced around the circumference of his mouth, before casually slipping in and out of its wet heat. Malik's eyes widened further at the implied expectation, he had never done this before. What would happen if he didn't do it right?

 

A whisper in his mind told him to only do what it led him to do. Unlike his performance with anyone else, his dark would guide him. He would instinctively know through their shared mind how to please his master. `My master?' he repeated the thought.

 

Half lidded violet orbs beamed down on the boy, causing him to shudder. Sliding his right hand around, he set it harshly at the pressure points of the boys jaw, forcing it open. He used his left hand to free himself from the confinement of his pants. Placing the head of his erect penis on Malik's bottom lip, he traced the orifice as he had with his finger, before sliding the tip inside.

 

Malik's mind hazed over as the other's led him on. A soundless voice told him what to do, showering him with images he felt compelled to copy. A slender left hand complied with the mental image, as it rose up to stroke the base of the larger boy's member. Light lavender eyes clouded, almost closing as he slid the sensitive organ in further. The tip of his tongue traced along the perimeter of the newly engulfed head, along its slit, and lapped up a taste of pre cum.

 

The volatile shadow groaned, releasing the boys jaw in favor of a softer two handed grasp in Malik's hair.

 

Extracting the organ, Malik continued to glide along the shaft with the top most side of his tongue. He started placing experimental opened mouth kisses along the outside of the shaft, then slurping and sucking on the skin all around the yami's penis; drifting ever lower. Timidly, he licked at a delicate testicle, before growing bolder and sucking on its lightly haired surface. Taking the orb into his mouth carefully he sucked gently while massaging it with the tip of his tongue. His left hand continued to gently work the organ while his right hand replaced his mouth, massaging the left testy. Soft pink lips parted to admit the right testy and repeat the treatment.

 

Both the dark's large hands stretched out along the back of the other's head, like a cat gently kneading the scalp. Low moaning erupted from the serene yami as his head tilted back and legs tensed.

 

Malik used his teeth to gently graze the twin sacs before sticking his tongue out to lap at the perineum. His hands again rose to massage the slathered shaft and testicles in the absence of his mouth.

 

Pulling back the boy's head, a queue to stop, an enraptured Yami no Malik kicked off his pants. Dropping his cloak to the floor to sit back on, he spread his legs without shame and lowered Malik's head back down with both hands.

 

Malik wordlessly continued his ministrations pumping and massaging the other's genitals while firmly licking along the perineum. Nips and sucking replaced his tongue, soaking the yami's nether regions. Saliva dribbled down the perineum onto the pucker between the yami's cheeks.

 

Sifting through the boy's experience with the priest, the dark continued to lead his light through his curious experimentation. He coaxed the boy lower with his sucking motions until he was over the pucker. There he had the boy suck harder.

 

The entranced smaller blonde pressed the tip of his tongue on the opening, firmly increasing pressure until gaining entry. He continued to slather the entrance, rimming the opening with the tip of his tongue. Gradually a slender index finger replaced his tongue, slowly sliding in and out of the orifice. A second finger joined the first, probing for the phantom pleasure center from Malik's memory.

 

One, two, “unh,” gasped the yami as the boy's fingers grazed the spot. Delicate fingers continued to thrust into that spot, while hot wet kisses returned to the shaft above the hand pumping it. Panting, the dark watched his slighter half use his mouth on his penis. He noticed liquid coming out of the slit on the top and mentally instructed Malik to lick it up.

 

Obediently, the boy lowered his tongue to lap up the gathered fluid, before wrapping his mouth around the engorged head and sucking. Slurping sounds resonated throughout the room as the boy gradually learned to slide up and down the organ, eventually bobbing at a comfortable pace.

 

Ecstasy overtook the golden yami who fingered the other's soft locks, quickly feeling warmth pooling up in his abdomen. Holding the other's head in place he bit back the rising orgasm. Oh no, this would not end so soon. He wanted to savor his new found control and bask in the glorious new sensations.

 

Sitting up to engulf the others mouth in his own, he again opened himself to the other's experiences. Tracing his fingers downward along the others side, his own body tingled. `Time for some more experimentation; if my own body is too sensitive to continue then I can experience more through you,' the voice resonated through to Malik. `Could you feel it, all that you were doing?'

 

Clouded light eyes mirroring his own looked up and their panting owner nodded.

 

Measuring the other before him, the dark's eyes hardened before speaking aloud, “Say my name.”

 

Malik's eyes cleared before gaping in confusion, “Yami?”

 

The dark emitted a low grow before repeating himself, “My name, say it! Call me by my name.”

 

The smaller of the two started to inch away, still seated on the floor before the hostile entity. “I… I don't understand.”

 

Faster than believed the shadow pinned the boy beneath him growling and forcefully removing the others shirt. “What is my name? Long ago you gave me a name.”

 

Malik recovered from the shock of being thrown back, the wind only momentarily knocked out of him, only to have his shirt pulled roughly over his head and arms. `What did he mean? A name? For as long as he could remember, there was another voice which he held in the back of his mind. The other him, but that was it, it was just him.' He knew he had to remember quickly, the other was unstable and becoming angry.

 

Prying the adjoining consciousness to remain open, the larger of the two bit down on the boy's left brown nub, forcing him to cry out. The other was trying to push him off and the dark could feel the re-awakened fear alive in him. Grabbing at the flailing arms, he caught the boy's right arm with his left. With his right arm he forced the boys head to the right, leaving the struggling one's neck wide open.

 

The dark lent in to nip at the exposed skin above the main artery, earning a startled sound from the other. With the topmost edge of his tongue he licked upward across an earlobe, remaining there to softly nibble on it.

 

Malik ceased to struggle. At least for now his dark side was calmer, but he had him pinned and was currently using the area around his jugular as a playground. Bounding heartbeats signaled his dilemma.

 

Wet touches continued to contour the curves of his neck, traveling down his shoulder, and ending on his collarbone. All the arousing actions he had performed for his dark half, he had experienced as ghostly touches. His groin was moist from sweat, teasing, and leaking semen. The yami's more recent actions left his skin tingling. The other's breath perked the same bud to hardness before the wet coaxing from his tongue even began. Malik was torn between looking for an opportunity to escape and pleading like a wanton whore.

 

Rising to again capture the smaller boy's mouth, the dark felt the boy moan into his mouth. Adept right-handed fingers worked diligently to remove the final barriers separating them. Belt and pants soon opened wide to allow that and access. Dampened skin greeted the intruding appendage, rising to its touch. Elegantly long fingers wrapped around the excited organ, stroking it slowly.

 

All inhibitions flew out the proverbial window at the touch. Between the heat pooling in the base of his abdomen and the engorged organ, the tortured body betrayed him, arching up to allow more friction. His head leaned back, parting his lips to emit whispered pleas.

 

Dipping his own head to meet the others forehead, depthless violet peered into misty lilac. Once again a gravelly voice purred, “Say my name.”

 

Malik couldn't take it; the unpredictability of the dark to take him beyond all capacity for thought and remind him harshly with whom he was dealing. Familiar fear welled back up. Imploring the other, Malik's smaller arms embraced the large male trapping him under his own weight. “What do you mean? I don't understand.”

 

Frustration radiated from the larger male as he growled, harshly flipping the smaller onto his stomach. With one hard tug, the hanging articles of clothing were jerked off.

 

Breath caught in his throat as the wind was knocked out of him. Malik didn't know what the dark wanted. Afraid he would suffer for disappointing the other, he wracked his memories in search of the demanded information.

He could feel the other pinning him again underneath him, and the fingers reaching between his cheeks, roughly separating them. Fingers still slick with moisture from the teasing fluids invaded his entrance, pumping him. Thanks to bodily secretions, the entry was not painful. The fact that he was so overly worked up aided to it being a wanted stimulus, but he knew he would be taken brutally if he didn't feed the dark what he wanted. The third finger forcing its way inside brushed against his prostate, forcing his thoughts to abandon him once again.

 

The dark whimpered at the whisper of the mirrored sensation, momentarily leaving him weak. His head dipped onto the others upper back, leaving wild stands to caress the boy's neck and shoulders.

 

Malik audibly groaned at the tingling touched electrifying his skin. Lips tasted the raised surfaces of his scarred back, almost worshiping them. A hand soon followed tracing their outlines.

 

Darkness perused the markings that gave it life, pawing and kissing them tenderly. He remembered here was where a child's mind had first created him, calling him by name for help. Fear, pain, helplessness, hatred; these were the makings of the fertile womb in Malik's mind, the blooded ritual the semen. This was the reason for his being; establishing the alter ego he fell back on in need.

 

Malik's mind imagined the image projected by the shadow. He remembered, even after the ritual he was alone so often. He would pretend the quiet voice in the back of his head was a friend. Lonely hours would pass away playing, studying, but always whispering to the other, his companion. He remembered he gave it a name to make it more tangible, everyone should have a name the innocent reasoned.

 

Biting down gently on a ridge of skin, the dark cried silently. When was it that the boy had stopped talking to him, dismissing him, pretending he wasn't there? He couldn't remember. It was so quiet after that, only lingering on the outside of the others thoughts and experiences. The one responsible for his birth turned him out, never an explanation. Shut out and away from living, he was condemned a prisoner in the confines of his makers will. He was regarded as an atrocity, something that should be destroyed; loathed and feared by his own creator. Fury overtaking him, he lifted the boy onto his knees, forcefully bending his torso down. He saw only malice and hatred fueled from unrequited love as he readied himself to enter. Rage injected the self-justified question one last time as warning, “What is my name?” In this one question lay his vindication, acknowledgement as a living person, an identity given freely by the one who made him.

 

Malik saw it all, felt it all. It left him speechless, he never really knew, understood what he was doing, let alone that he was doing it. Uncontrollable mourning overtook him. He felt the other lift him, positioning him to once again become conjoined. He felt the bitterness, hurt, disappointment of the other. He knew what the other wanted of him now, and he was right to demand it. Suffocating on the others desperation, he choked back a sob. “Marik,” he whispered through his tears.

 

The other stopped. Tilting his head to regard the boy, words laced with pain repeated, “What's my name?” He firmly dug his fingertips into the boys hips, squeezing for emphasis, “Say my name.”

 

“Marik,” the boy howled, “I called you Marik.” Malik wailed out the last fighting through the flooding torrents to say. He lowered his head to the floor, ready to take what he had coming. All these people he had harmed along his way to vengeance and self grandeur. He can't believe how thoughtless and selfish he was. He hurt his family, Yugi and his friends, the Kaiba's, and most of all himself, Marik. Everyone seemed out to get him now, and it was only what he deserved, after all. He couldn't think past his lamentations, couldn't register the other had stopped, or that firm arms wrapped around him, holding him from behind.

 

Marik had experienced it all. He knew the debt was paid. He would not seek to harm his light any longer.

 

Gentle kisses tasting salty tears ensued, along the boys grieving face, behind his ear, down to the nape of his slender neck, and across his sensitive shoulder. The hands that held him caressed his chest, massaging the nubs, wondering over the taut stomach.

 

Wailing subsided, gradually giving way to moans. The hands reaching between the boys legs tenderly massaged the neglected length and sacs. Within minutes, labored breaths of crying, deepened. Slow deep respirations returned as exhaustion set in.

 

Malik was completely emotionally drained. He leaned back into the larger male, taking whatever reprieve was offered.

 

Marik gently turned the boy to face him, careful to bear most of his weight. Raising the sullen face to his own, he showered it with soft kisses. Supporting the tired frame, he lay Malik down on his cloak, draping himself over him.

 

Malik's long since forgotten arousal twitched against the skin of his yami's stomach. Tentatively raising his arms around Marik's neck, the smaller bronzed male raised his head to kiss him. Opened lips pressed against the darker halves, offering himself up willingly.

 

Marik accepted the offer greedily, delving his tongue in and groping. Pulling back, he slipped two fingers inside the boy's mouth. As if in repentance, the boy began to suck the digits, dancing around them with his tongue. Marik moaned, bucking against Malik's hips. Thoroughly saturated, he withdrew his hand to slip it in between the smaller's legs.

 

Entering with excessive lubricant, the digits comfortably slid inside. Gyrating his length against Malik's, his fingers continued to stroke the sensitive spot inside his canal. Ravenous to be as close as possible with his light, Marik's mouth engulfed Malik's. The longer tongue of the dominating male sweeping around the other's mouth, coaxing Malik's to play.

 

Gratefully, Malik's muscle danced with his darks distracting him while the larger entered his body. Slow, steady thrusts rocked into his prostate, erecting all his previous desire.

 

Marik established a steady rhythm before stopping to take Malik's hand in his own and use it to stroke the boy's weeping penis. For every thrust, Marik led Malik to pump himself in time. After a few repetitions, Marik released the boy's hand and watched him stroke himself.

 

The slighter blonde moaned and slid his eyes near closed, stroking his penis slowly. Lust fueled both males, each feeling a shadow of the others sensations; friction from the hand pumping, the tight passage surrounding the sensitive organ, and the ecstasy from touching the bundle of nerves.

 

For Malik, the sight of his dark above him, holding him firmly and sweating felt right; complete. Never could they be any closer or more in tuned. He didn't want it to end, but knew sadly it eventually would.

 

Marik looked down at his light panting under him and giving himself pleasure. Ravenous to join with him, to become one he increased the power of his thrusts. Thirsty eyes soaked in the nimble fingers faster strokes. This was what had been missing. At this moment they were one. He doubted anything would ever measure up t this again.

 

Malik whimpered, begging him “Please, please..,”

 

“Please what Malik,” taunted the smirking darker half.

 

“Please Marik, harder,” the smaller blonde pleaded.

 

All too happy to comply, Marik pounded into the other.

 

Both covered in sweat, groaning and grunting, until Malik came; spraying their chests and stomachs. Tightening down at the height of his release, Malik's canal clamped down on the other's hardened cock. Marik felt the wave of pleasure from his light and rode it out riding him frantically. Within a minute later he followed, spraying warm fluid inside the boy. Marik continued a while longer, refusing to end it.

 

Gasping for air, Marik fell atop the other. Wiry arms wrapped around the larger, just holding him. Marik pulled himself out gingerly, before lifting himself off Malik. Looking over, Malik's eyes resonated warmth of an almost idolizing adoration.

 

Marik didn't know what to do. He didn't want to leave his other half, not when they finally had re-joined. He just now had an identity, a possibility for his own life. He wasn't Malik any longer, but a whole other person. He was born of hate and the emotions flooding him now, especially those coming from his other half were overwhelming him. There was a desire for him to stay, the boy didn't want him t leave. If he didn't go, would he continue to only be a shadow of the original? Would the boy continue to bend to his will, or would he again be a caged animal? How long until they all descended upon him again, hating and fearing him? The unfamiliar feelings made his head spin, frightening him; this was all too new. Shutting out Malik from his mind, he turned away.

 

Confused and angered he stood up, dressing quickly.

 

Malik didn't understand. What had he done wrong? Marik was angry again, he could sense confusion building before he cut him off. Too wary of the other's volatile nature, he didn't attempt to speak or touch the dark while he was in this state. Malik remained quiet and still; only watching the other half of his soul walk away. A few tears escaped, surprising him that he cared that much.

 

Marik looked back only once, having felt the boy's eyes on his retreating back. Nothing was said as he turned back away, walking out the door.

 

Malik shakily stood to dress and clear up the mess. There was no way to hide this. Rishid would see Marik leaving and come running to check on him. There was no way to cover the lingering smell of sex, or his worn appearance. His family would freak out, causing further enmity between Marik and himself. They would surely chase Marik away, should he ever return. With his dark just now, he had felt so whole. Now in his absence he knew how empty he was. Funny, he didn't realize how empty until he was full. He had to find a way to remain here, in Japan, in case Marik came looking for him. He was going to disappoint his family again, he knew.

 

 

 

~~~~:P

 

 

AN:

Meh, and people scoffed when I actually read Frankenstein for English. LOL I bet Mary Shelly never envisioned this. O.o

 

Ok, if it's still not clear as to how this could happen, I will try to explain.

 

I tried to write that Millennium item explanation to allow for the possibility of the yami's or even the Thief King himself to have a Physical form. So Yami could now, just as Thief King Bakura could, step out of the arc mirror. Malik was startled and rubbed against it with his arm and the pharaoh has all the items gathered together inside the arc.

In fact, someone could theoretically have Bakura wake up and touch the arc mirror, without understanding and he and Bakura split, or Thief King steps out, or even mirror world Bakura and Thief King step out since all are inside the memory arc world. Hell Seth could step out to help Seto.

When Malik screwed up and brushed against it accidentally, he awoke and triggered the power from within the items.