Priestess Aishisu: Well, I couldn't decide whether the next Yu-Gi-Oh fanfiction I wrote would be Dark/Casteshipping or Antago/Corruptshipping. And I found I way to do both! No, it's not Archaishipping. It's Antagoshipping and Casteshipping.
Confused?
This is based on another fanfiction I wrote called Shapes of Love, based on another of my fanfictions of the same name.
Malik, Yu-Gi-Oh, Bakura, and Kaiba (and maybe Isis, Mariku, Ryou, and Yugi later) have been forced by Adularia (a.k.a me) to attend a seven-month camp or whatever you want to call it. Atemu and Touzoku Ou will be there as well…
Also, this is kind of—how do I put this? It was based on some author notes with the characters complaining about authors.
So they know things the characters an author note know, even though they're not written in script formatting (this site doesn't permit script formatting) That's why they don't want to do this—not only are they spending seven months with people they hate, they're controlled by the 'tyranny' of a woman who just happens to be an angst expert.
I am not exaggerating, as fans of my Mediaminer fanfiction can probably attest to quite readily. I write angst all the time.
On with the fanfiction!

«§Ж§»

"Are you all right?" Ryou Bakura asked, endearing green eyes gazing at his yami,' or dark side.

"No," Yami no Bakura replied flatly, slender white fingers gripping his paintbrush ever tighter. His fingers moved so swiftly it was almost impossible to see. "Get out of my room."

"It's technically my room, seeing as how it's technically my apartment," Ryou replied with surprising audacity for such a delicate-looking boy, glancing around the room. In spite of Bakura's obviously frenzied state, it looked the same as it always did.

It was a lovely room, no doubt about that, the walls and ceilings painted to look as if they were in Ancient Egypt at night—glow-in-the-dark constellations and everything.

The curtains were midnight blue, and the neatly made bed had a deep blue comforter-and-pillow ensemble and pale blue sheets. There was a desk with a fine writing set, sheet after sheet of fine white paper written on in ancient Egyptian, and more papers folded in origami shapes. There was an easel set up, and the near-albino Spirit was currently painting what seemed to be a village on fire.

Bakura had set the room up himself, having needed something to do after giving up villainy for reasons he would tell no one. Among his hobbies were writing poems, painting, and doing origami.

He also liked singing and learning any new thing he could—and though Ryou was grateful for his help, it was depressing that an Ancient Egyptian Spirit who had just gained his own body a few months ago was better at math than him.

According to his best friend Yugi, his yami Yu-Gi-Oh was the same. They agreed that math must have existed in Ancient Egypt—the only other explanation was that they were retarded, and they refused to believe that.

"Well, for seven months, there'll be nothing 'technical' about it—I won't be anywhere near here."

"Oh, come on, yami!" Ryou replied, pouting cutely. "Adularia said that I might end up coming around later. And Yugi, and Isis, and Mariku."

Bakura let out an earsplitting shriek and flung his paintbrush at the wall. It hit the wall and trailed onto the ground, leaving a line of red on the mound of sand he had painted—so realistic it was almost impossible to believe it wasn't real, and due to Bakura's power could be made real with a wave of the hand.

"Mariku?!" he roared, whirling on his hikari. "Don't I have enough to worry about with Malik? I mean, the Pharaoh's a nightmare on his own!"

"I notice you didn't mention Kaiba," murmured his deceptively innocent-looking hikari. The brush lifted from the ground and flew at him. He dodged it. The lamp, the origami papers, even the bed lifted up and soared forward. Ryou ran.

Once certain Ryou was gone, Bakura waved a hand and the things settled back in place. Heaving a bitter sigh, he gazed around at his beautiful room—a room he wouldn't be able to see again for seven months. Why the fuck did I have to be part of this?

«§Ж§»

"Why the fuck did I have to be part of this?"

A graceful young woman with intense sapphire eyes sighed as she watched her brother pacing around the room, running slim fingers through her strait black hair. He had reason to be upset, she knew, especially considering that it was Adularia—of all the millions of authors in fandom, she was one of the top-hundreds in likeliness to do something horrible to one of her characters.

"Me, Kaiba, Bakura, and the pharaoh, under the tyranny of that…woman. We're all gunnu die…we're all gunnu die…"

Mariku watched his hikari pace, leaning against the wall with his hands in the pockets of his skintight black jeans. "Does anybody in this household remember the meaning of the word 'sleep?' Why don't you just relax?"

Malik whirled on his yami much as Bakura whirled on Ryou, his lilac eyes blazing a torrential violet.

"Relax?!" he hissed, the deep snarl carrying more rage than a roar. "How can I relax?! Seven fucking months with Kaiba, Bakura, and the Pharaoh, our fates controlled by every whim of that vile woman! Do you not remember what has happened to me in her other fanfictions? I'm her third-favorite character to torture, after Bakura and the Pharaoh!"

Mariku gazed at Malik placidly.

There was a long silence in which Isis did no more than watch and pray that Mariku didn't say anything to get himself clobbered with the Millennium Rod (the Pharaoh had finally agreed to wild fangirls' demands of not killing Mariku or Bakura, as long as Malik got the Rod—though Bakura couldn't be separated from the Ring, and besides he could keep coming back to life)

Mariku stretched, totally casual, clearly enjoying the suspense. He straitened up, smirking hands on his cocked hips. "So," he said, perfectly calm, "which one of them do you love?"

Malik's jaw dropped and he stepped back. Then rage took over, and Isis covered her eyes. The last thing she wanted to watch was her brother's yami get beaten to a pulp by said brother.

Fists clenching, eyes blazing, Malik hissed, "Excuse me?"

"Think about it," replied Mariku smugly, obviously having no fear for his personal health. "That's why authoresses have these trip things, right? Either humor or romance, and we all know Adularia prefers romance."

Isis wondered if he was suicidal.

"Four of them…and Adularia has paired all seven of them with the other two at least once—leaving whoever you love available. So, which one do you love?"

The silence lasted almost an hour this time. Isis felt as if she would faint. At last, Malik snapped, "I'm going to bed," and stormed off.

«§Ж§»

It was at least an hour before the sun would be rising over Domino City. Most of the inhabitants were still very much asleep. However, there is no rest for the wealthy.

Mokuba Kaiba yawned and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, sitting on the edge of his brother's bed as he wearily watched said brother prepare for a meeting with foreign investors. The young vice president was still visibly tired, but his big brother Seto Kaiba didn't seem to know the meaning of the word 'sleep.'

There was far too much work to be done to mess with such a trivial thing, especially since Adularia—the author more commonly known as Priestess or Priestess Aishisu—was going to make him take seven months off from work.

In spite of himself, Mokuba's purplish gray eyes shifted to the small drawer in which Kaiba kept his most valuable possessions—and, at the same time, the ones which held the most negative memories—the Millennium Eye and his Duel Monsters deck.

After the yamis and hikaris gained their own bodies, and Kaiba gained several new powers—including the power to control and create lightning and other electricity, an ability that was dangerous enough (if left uncontrolled) that he had to accept his past and his powers and all the implications—he had locked these items up and swore not to take them out unless absolutely necessary.

Now he would have to take them out again. And he wasn't happy about it.

«§Ж§»

Namonsaki Pharaoh (nameless Pharaoh), an ancient Egyptian Spirit who had formerly ruled all Egypt, glared out the window. Well, he wasn't nameless anymore (his name was Yu-Gi-Oh) and he wasn't a Spirit either. What he was was angry.

And that was never a good thing.

"Oh come on, Yu-Gi-Oh" his childlike little aibou Yugi said coaxingly, breaking into his yami's disgruntled thoughts. "Maybe it will be fun."

Yu-Gi-Oh jumped off the bed and whirled around, glaring into Yugi's large sweet eyes. "Fun? Fun? How can it be fun? I'm going to be forced to live with the Tomb Robber and Seto Kaibafor seven fucking months! If that's fun, I'll jump into the Nile and be eaten by alligators!"

Yugi flinched at his yami's outburst, but decided to simply reply, "You'd have to go back to Egypt to jump into the Nile."

Yu-Gi-Oh groaned loudly and flung himself back onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow and hoping he would suffocate.