(no subject)
Jan. 24th, 2006 02:03 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
the_goldenpathTitle: The Face of my Beloved
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Pairings: one-sided Rishid Ishtar x Jounouchi Shizuka, Malik Ishtar x Jounouchi Shizuka
Warnings: drama, angst
Summary: How difficult is it to live with seeing the one you love most in the arms of one another- your own brother?
Author's note: holiday ficcu for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
abby_sarajane. Thank you for requesting!
--------
One time every two months. That was all he could afford. Literally. Mentally. Financially. One time every two months wasn’t enough, but he was a patient man. A kind man, a dignified man. He was renowned and praised for his self-control, his restraint, his calm and composed behavior. They praised him… and never bothered to look past the things they praised him about, to see the lurking, fuming, raging turmoil beneath.
Why would they spend time thinking about him? He was just Rishid. A servant, the man in the background. Despite his height and posture, Rishid knew how to melt into the shadows, how to make himself invisible, how to blend in without anyone noticing- sometimes it was an advantage, sometimes it was a disadvantage. The advantage was that he could look and watch undetected; feeling strangely left out and jealous at every other action or movement displayed in front of him, as it was only watching he could do. The disadvantage was that sometimes, just sometimes, he wanted to be noticed too, more than just a servant, more than just someone conveniently ‘around’ and sometimes he just wanted to fucking scream and to hell with all the restraint, all the self-control, all the calmness that was killing him inside.
One time every two months, and he had to wait for four more weeks. This was some kind of breaking point, the exact middle of those two months. Four more weeks, or less than four weeks? Every day passing by brought him closer to his goal, and he started marking the calendar. His own of course, not the one in the living room. That would only make the others ask questions… questions he didn’t want to answer. Questions he couldn’t answer without losing face… and gaining disdain. What would his brother say? What would his sister say? Would they look at him with a pitiful look in their eyes, pitying him even though they knew they were the ones to blame for this?
All his life has been completely servitude- he’d do anything for Isis, anything and more for Malik. He still would, until his dying day. His own wants, his own needs… he had thought for a long while that he didn’t had any. Malik and Isis, they were his life. Serving, smiling and… staying silent. Silence. Long days, filled with nothing but silence. Sure, he was their brother, as they kept reminding him almost every day. They always got upset when he referred to himself as a servant, it never failed to get a rise out of them… and he would get some attention, until that faded away as well.
Four more weeks. Staring at the tray in front of him, with the mugs, teapot, biscuits and teaspoons neatly arranged on it, Rishid grimaced. No one, and certainly not him, had expected them to rise above ground and stay above ground. Severing all the ties with their traditions, leaving their homeland –again- to settle in a cold country at the other side of the world… what would’ve happened if they had stayed underground? Would he still be a servant? Nothing had really changed, hadn’t it? He was still a servant, despite their talking about ‘starting a new life’, ‘following own dreams’ and ‘being yourself’. Maybe it would’ve been better if he had stayed underground. Even though he was adopted into the Ishtar family and not of their pure bloodline, he could’ve uphold their traditions as the Tomb Keepers clan, rotting away in the underground dwelling.. Rishid shook his head while he continued to rearrange the objects on the tray, waiting for the water to start boiling.
Reclusive… stoic… but not dead on the inside. He was more lively on the inside than on the outside, having perfected his silent behavior, attitude and composure during the years. No one could read him, not even his own brother, not even his own sister. He was used to the strange looks people often threw him, but he couldn’t care less for what they were thinking. They were probably wrong anyway, and he certainly didn’t do a thing to correct their view on him.
Twenty eight days. Before he could make the phone call, before he could make the request. Four more weeks, twenty eight days, before he would see her again. Not her.. he would see her often, not daily, but at least four times a week. She’d fill the living room with laughter and giggles, pouring her love and lust for life into the hearts of those surrounding her, and her exclusive love for one person would be focused on him- Malik. To be honest… why not? He was more of her age, shared more of her interests, was better to look at. Malik had the looks and the brains needed to be her boyfriend- Jounouchi Shizuka’s boyfriend, to be exact.
She was like a butterfly, elusive and skittish, needed to be caught day after day again. She reveled in attention, adored the love that was shown to her, savored every kiss that was given to her. Like so many others, she took notice of him only briefly, registering that he was her boyfriend’s brother, and after some small talk, her attention went elsewhere… to Malik, who had been kissing and touching her the moment she walked through the door. She was the one he would see often, but she wasn’t the one he would be holding. She would never be held by him.
One thousand hundred and twenty hours. If he was lucky. After the two months were up, he had to wait for an opportunity that both Malik and Isis were out of the house, so he could make the phone call, so he could receive her. So much time, so much silence, so much suffering. Rishid noticed that the water was finally boiling –maybe for some time, as he’d been lost in thoughts- and he took the kettle, pouring the scorching hot liquid in the teapot. Was he really suffering? Was it true that every time he saw them together, on the couch, hands entwined, kissing and cuddling each other while he brought them tea and offered them advice as to go where for entertainment, his nerves became more numb? Numb on the outside, raw on the inside. Dear gods, but was he raw on the inside. He ached for the same thing as his brother- compassion, understanding, love… and where he had failed to find it, Malik had succeeded in record-time: Shizuka came home with him from school and she simply… never left.
Malik had given her the keys to their apartment the second day they knew each other, and she often came over, to help with schoolwork, to chat, to kiss and hold and declare him her love, to giggle and laugh and being an overall tease. A teasing, an ordeal, a test. Yes, she was a test, send to test him, how long he could withstand her, how long he could fight against his emotions, who would be stronger in the end- Rishid himself, or his deep longing for someone like her?
So many hours… he had spent alone. Time, passing by, without anything meaningful. Isis had tried to talk to him, trying to get him out of his shell. He avoided looking into her eyes, because he was afraid she’d look right through him. As expected, she’d put her hand on his shoulder, stressing that he should see her if there was anything she could do for him, if he ever needed someone to talk to… I need someone. But not Isis. Shizuka. He reasoned with himself every night before falling asleep, every spare minute of the day, and he couldn’t figure it out. Maybe it was because she was his brother’s girlfriend, and he coveted her simply because of sexual attraction, as the girl was pretty, dressed in short skirts, had long flowing hair like he knew he’d always preferred. Rishid took a wooden box out of the cupboard and sorted through the different flavors. She liked mango, with a little teaspoon of sugar. She liked lemon biscuits, not too small, not too large, and she usually ate three. She.. she was not his. Only one time every two months he could claim her as ‘his’, and even then, she wasn’t really his, because she wasn’t her. Shizuka.. even her name was divine, and remembered him how much he was being punished. For what, really? For not standing up for his own? For being and acting like a servant, not demanding anything for himself? He didn’t see the need to ask anything for himself.. until they came above ground and went on with their lives.
So much differences, so much impact. Isis dedicating herself to working at the Museum, Malik latching onto the first girl who was friendly to him, his guilt about his previous actions sometimes too much to bear for him alone. Rishid couldn’t have helped him with that either; as a good servant, he’d offered to help him bear that burden, but frankly.. it would’ve been impossible. The love of that girl, the little angel in disguise, had helped his brother much more than he ever could. Bitter… maybe. It certainly was the truth.
Six hundred and seventy-two thousand seconds left. Taking up the tray after putting the mango tea on it, Rishid turned to leave the kitchen. When he pushed open the door, he heard laughter rolling towards him, hitting him, making him cringe. For the briefest of moments, it almost looked like he was going to lose his balance. Since when did he cringe? He stared at his hands, noticing they were shaking. Too much time left, and he couldn’t afford a second time so soon. It would kill him, it would kill his feelings, it would… straightening himself, Rishid walked towards the living room, hating himself for faltering, for doubting, for hesitating. This was usual- exactly on the one month break, he would get a little anxious, more raw on the inside, while cultivating his stoic exterior. No more mistakes. After serving tea, he would only have to decline their unavoidable invitation to sit with them and then he could go to his room, fleeing into his own world. Fleeing… yes, running away. Running away was the best option.
Rishid cleared his throat barely audible, and the couple on the couch looked up from their cuddling- she was smiling impishly, he was simply grinning. Her smile… the way she moved, the way she talked- and it was all meant for Malik, not for him. His eye had fallen on her, but she didn’t return the feelings, that was for sure. Once again, he couldn’t blame her, for why would she waste time on a mere servant? He wasn’t what she was looking for, he was just something that… was around. He’d always been around, and nobody had asked what he wanted. He only wanted Shizuka. He wanted her eyes on him, her smile directed towards him, her hair tickling his chest as she would kiss and touch him, her slender fingers caressing.
Seconds, minutes, days, weeks, months. It all didn’t matter. He was patient and had all the time in the world. He would continue looking at them, observing them, protecting them when necessary- after all, it was Malik, his brother, and he’d sworn to look after him, no matter what it took. Self-sacrifice, servitude… no needs, no wants. If only he could believe that himself, if only he could shape his heart into some uncaring, cold rock of stone, instead of the firy pit of turmoil it was every time Jounouchi Shizuka was near.
He would soon see her again. He would make the phone call, and ask for Kimi. It had taken him quite a while, but he found someone who looked like her, and one who didn’t mind dressing up like her… her job was to pretend to be someone else, while she laid on her back and called out his name, sensually, pleasurably, giving him the impression that he was together with someone he could never lay his hands upon. Never. He would touch her, his fingers would trail over her breasts and her stomach and travel lower to give her the attention he wanted to give her, but not really her. Despite the make up, despite the wig, despite the faint similar facial traits, she still wasn’t her… and while he would cry out Shizuka’s name, he would be nothing but another customer, one with a fantasy of making love to a certain girl he never could have, one she merely pretended to be because it was what she did for a living.
“Aren’t you sitting with us, Rishid?”
“No, thank you, Malik-sama. With your permission, I’d like to retreat for the evening.”
“So soon?”
“Yes, Malik-sama. If you would excuse me..”
“If you insist…”
Time. The bane of his existence would be patience and waiting, waiting for the next time he could make the call, the next evening he could receive her and look her in the face, a similar face but not the face of his beloved.
--------------------------
Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Pairings: one-sided Rishid Ishtar x Jounouchi Shizuka, Malik Ishtar x Jounouchi Shizuka
Warnings: drama, angst
Summary: How difficult is it to live with seeing the one you love most in the arms of one another- your own brother?
Author's note: holiday ficcu for
abby_sarajane. Thank you for requesting!--------
One time every two months. That was all he could afford. Literally. Mentally. Financially. One time every two months wasn’t enough, but he was a patient man. A kind man, a dignified man. He was renowned and praised for his self-control, his restraint, his calm and composed behavior. They praised him… and never bothered to look past the things they praised him about, to see the lurking, fuming, raging turmoil beneath.
Why would they spend time thinking about him? He was just Rishid. A servant, the man in the background. Despite his height and posture, Rishid knew how to melt into the shadows, how to make himself invisible, how to blend in without anyone noticing- sometimes it was an advantage, sometimes it was a disadvantage. The advantage was that he could look and watch undetected; feeling strangely left out and jealous at every other action or movement displayed in front of him, as it was only watching he could do. The disadvantage was that sometimes, just sometimes, he wanted to be noticed too, more than just a servant, more than just someone conveniently ‘around’ and sometimes he just wanted to fucking scream and to hell with all the restraint, all the self-control, all the calmness that was killing him inside.
One time every two months, and he had to wait for four more weeks. This was some kind of breaking point, the exact middle of those two months. Four more weeks, or less than four weeks? Every day passing by brought him closer to his goal, and he started marking the calendar. His own of course, not the one in the living room. That would only make the others ask questions… questions he didn’t want to answer. Questions he couldn’t answer without losing face… and gaining disdain. What would his brother say? What would his sister say? Would they look at him with a pitiful look in their eyes, pitying him even though they knew they were the ones to blame for this?
All his life has been completely servitude- he’d do anything for Isis, anything and more for Malik. He still would, until his dying day. His own wants, his own needs… he had thought for a long while that he didn’t had any. Malik and Isis, they were his life. Serving, smiling and… staying silent. Silence. Long days, filled with nothing but silence. Sure, he was their brother, as they kept reminding him almost every day. They always got upset when he referred to himself as a servant, it never failed to get a rise out of them… and he would get some attention, until that faded away as well.
Four more weeks. Staring at the tray in front of him, with the mugs, teapot, biscuits and teaspoons neatly arranged on it, Rishid grimaced. No one, and certainly not him, had expected them to rise above ground and stay above ground. Severing all the ties with their traditions, leaving their homeland –again- to settle in a cold country at the other side of the world… what would’ve happened if they had stayed underground? Would he still be a servant? Nothing had really changed, hadn’t it? He was still a servant, despite their talking about ‘starting a new life’, ‘following own dreams’ and ‘being yourself’. Maybe it would’ve been better if he had stayed underground. Even though he was adopted into the Ishtar family and not of their pure bloodline, he could’ve uphold their traditions as the Tomb Keepers clan, rotting away in the underground dwelling.. Rishid shook his head while he continued to rearrange the objects on the tray, waiting for the water to start boiling.
Reclusive… stoic… but not dead on the inside. He was more lively on the inside than on the outside, having perfected his silent behavior, attitude and composure during the years. No one could read him, not even his own brother, not even his own sister. He was used to the strange looks people often threw him, but he couldn’t care less for what they were thinking. They were probably wrong anyway, and he certainly didn’t do a thing to correct their view on him.
Twenty eight days. Before he could make the phone call, before he could make the request. Four more weeks, twenty eight days, before he would see her again. Not her.. he would see her often, not daily, but at least four times a week. She’d fill the living room with laughter and giggles, pouring her love and lust for life into the hearts of those surrounding her, and her exclusive love for one person would be focused on him- Malik. To be honest… why not? He was more of her age, shared more of her interests, was better to look at. Malik had the looks and the brains needed to be her boyfriend- Jounouchi Shizuka’s boyfriend, to be exact.
She was like a butterfly, elusive and skittish, needed to be caught day after day again. She reveled in attention, adored the love that was shown to her, savored every kiss that was given to her. Like so many others, she took notice of him only briefly, registering that he was her boyfriend’s brother, and after some small talk, her attention went elsewhere… to Malik, who had been kissing and touching her the moment she walked through the door. She was the one he would see often, but she wasn’t the one he would be holding. She would never be held by him.
One thousand hundred and twenty hours. If he was lucky. After the two months were up, he had to wait for an opportunity that both Malik and Isis were out of the house, so he could make the phone call, so he could receive her. So much time, so much silence, so much suffering. Rishid noticed that the water was finally boiling –maybe for some time, as he’d been lost in thoughts- and he took the kettle, pouring the scorching hot liquid in the teapot. Was he really suffering? Was it true that every time he saw them together, on the couch, hands entwined, kissing and cuddling each other while he brought them tea and offered them advice as to go where for entertainment, his nerves became more numb? Numb on the outside, raw on the inside. Dear gods, but was he raw on the inside. He ached for the same thing as his brother- compassion, understanding, love… and where he had failed to find it, Malik had succeeded in record-time: Shizuka came home with him from school and she simply… never left.
Malik had given her the keys to their apartment the second day they knew each other, and she often came over, to help with schoolwork, to chat, to kiss and hold and declare him her love, to giggle and laugh and being an overall tease. A teasing, an ordeal, a test. Yes, she was a test, send to test him, how long he could withstand her, how long he could fight against his emotions, who would be stronger in the end- Rishid himself, or his deep longing for someone like her?
So many hours… he had spent alone. Time, passing by, without anything meaningful. Isis had tried to talk to him, trying to get him out of his shell. He avoided looking into her eyes, because he was afraid she’d look right through him. As expected, she’d put her hand on his shoulder, stressing that he should see her if there was anything she could do for him, if he ever needed someone to talk to… I need someone. But not Isis. Shizuka. He reasoned with himself every night before falling asleep, every spare minute of the day, and he couldn’t figure it out. Maybe it was because she was his brother’s girlfriend, and he coveted her simply because of sexual attraction, as the girl was pretty, dressed in short skirts, had long flowing hair like he knew he’d always preferred. Rishid took a wooden box out of the cupboard and sorted through the different flavors. She liked mango, with a little teaspoon of sugar. She liked lemon biscuits, not too small, not too large, and she usually ate three. She.. she was not his. Only one time every two months he could claim her as ‘his’, and even then, she wasn’t really his, because she wasn’t her. Shizuka.. even her name was divine, and remembered him how much he was being punished. For what, really? For not standing up for his own? For being and acting like a servant, not demanding anything for himself? He didn’t see the need to ask anything for himself.. until they came above ground and went on with their lives.
So much differences, so much impact. Isis dedicating herself to working at the Museum, Malik latching onto the first girl who was friendly to him, his guilt about his previous actions sometimes too much to bear for him alone. Rishid couldn’t have helped him with that either; as a good servant, he’d offered to help him bear that burden, but frankly.. it would’ve been impossible. The love of that girl, the little angel in disguise, had helped his brother much more than he ever could. Bitter… maybe. It certainly was the truth.
Six hundred and seventy-two thousand seconds left. Taking up the tray after putting the mango tea on it, Rishid turned to leave the kitchen. When he pushed open the door, he heard laughter rolling towards him, hitting him, making him cringe. For the briefest of moments, it almost looked like he was going to lose his balance. Since when did he cringe? He stared at his hands, noticing they were shaking. Too much time left, and he couldn’t afford a second time so soon. It would kill him, it would kill his feelings, it would… straightening himself, Rishid walked towards the living room, hating himself for faltering, for doubting, for hesitating. This was usual- exactly on the one month break, he would get a little anxious, more raw on the inside, while cultivating his stoic exterior. No more mistakes. After serving tea, he would only have to decline their unavoidable invitation to sit with them and then he could go to his room, fleeing into his own world. Fleeing… yes, running away. Running away was the best option.
Rishid cleared his throat barely audible, and the couple on the couch looked up from their cuddling- she was smiling impishly, he was simply grinning. Her smile… the way she moved, the way she talked- and it was all meant for Malik, not for him. His eye had fallen on her, but she didn’t return the feelings, that was for sure. Once again, he couldn’t blame her, for why would she waste time on a mere servant? He wasn’t what she was looking for, he was just something that… was around. He’d always been around, and nobody had asked what he wanted. He only wanted Shizuka. He wanted her eyes on him, her smile directed towards him, her hair tickling his chest as she would kiss and touch him, her slender fingers caressing.
Seconds, minutes, days, weeks, months. It all didn’t matter. He was patient and had all the time in the world. He would continue looking at them, observing them, protecting them when necessary- after all, it was Malik, his brother, and he’d sworn to look after him, no matter what it took. Self-sacrifice, servitude… no needs, no wants. If only he could believe that himself, if only he could shape his heart into some uncaring, cold rock of stone, instead of the firy pit of turmoil it was every time Jounouchi Shizuka was near.
He would soon see her again. He would make the phone call, and ask for Kimi. It had taken him quite a while, but he found someone who looked like her, and one who didn’t mind dressing up like her… her job was to pretend to be someone else, while she laid on her back and called out his name, sensually, pleasurably, giving him the impression that he was together with someone he could never lay his hands upon. Never. He would touch her, his fingers would trail over her breasts and her stomach and travel lower to give her the attention he wanted to give her, but not really her. Despite the make up, despite the wig, despite the faint similar facial traits, she still wasn’t her… and while he would cry out Shizuka’s name, he would be nothing but another customer, one with a fantasy of making love to a certain girl he never could have, one she merely pretended to be because it was what she did for a living.
“Aren’t you sitting with us, Rishid?”
“No, thank you, Malik-sama. With your permission, I’d like to retreat for the evening.”
“So soon?”
“Yes, Malik-sama. If you would excuse me..”
“If you insist…”
Time. The bane of his existence would be patience and waiting, waiting for the next time he could make the call, the next evening he could receive her and look her in the face, a similar face but not the face of his beloved.
--------------------------
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 03:37 pm (UTC)I love it.
I so wasn't expecting that... but I love it. Brilliant. :: applauds:: Wheeee thank you! ^^;;; :: needs to finish yours::
no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 05:47 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 08:03 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 08:17 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 08:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 05:39 pm (UTC)You may want to get someone to look it over though - there are a lot of grammar errors.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 05:50 pm (UTC)Ah, thanks. I used LJ's spellchecker but apparently I missed a lot. I'll send it to my trusty beta before putting it on the website.
no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 05:53 pm (UTC)Well, it is certainly nice to know that you randomly think about prostitutes!
no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 08:19 pm (UTC)Internet and certain people have corrupted me, *g*
no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 08:21 pm (UTC)...what people? XD
no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 08:41 pm (UTC)well, you know, there's that girl...
no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 08:43 pm (UTC)*grins* What girl would this be?
no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 08:53 pm (UTC)You know, the one with a lotta kinky icons? XD
no subject
Date: 2006-01-24 08:54 pm (UTC)*innocent whistle, looks around*
Rishid!!!!
Date: 2006-12-05 12:00 am (UTC)I just found this; I love it! (Though part of me wonders if Rishid is really that unlucky, or if he just still has some unresolved jealousy issues.)
Re: Rishid!!!!
Date: 2006-12-05 07:42 pm (UTC)