Okay, so this is the start of my fanfiction! It's thiefshipping with many side pairings including Wishshipping, Prideshipping, and eventually Deathshipping in later chapters. Oh, and also whatever the pairing between Trystan and Serenity is.(I'm not sure what that's actually called lol) How long this fanfiction is will probably depend upon a lot of things, one of them being fanbase. So if you end up liking this, please leave a review and tell your friends. I'm going to warn you that there's some fourth-wall breaking in this first chapter, along with some humor and pointing out of plot holes.
So, without further ado, please enjoy.

I own not Yu-Gi-Oh, or any of its gorgeous, hot, unbelievably exotic characters...

Though I'm still waiting for the virtual reality simulator that will let me meet them, and feel Marik's back.

Because that carving is sexy as frig.

~~~~~Chapter 1~~~~~~~~~
Bakura had no clue where he was. Absolutely no clue.
He knew he was in an alleyway somewhere on the North side of town, but that was about it. It was the rough part of town, and with every passing second he remained fear rose in his stomach and threatened to choke him.
He'd been tracking Kaiba in attempt to reason with him about something, god, he didn't even remember what at this point. Yuugi had told him to, though, and he'd do it or his name wasn't Ryou Bakura.
He looked around at the alleyway, trying to get a feel for his surroundings. He looked around to see where Kaiba could've gone, (though he had no clue why he'd even be on this side of town) but it seemed as if, if he was even there in the first place, he'd entirely disappeared.
Suddenly, Bakura heard footsteps behind him, several pair coming his direction. He swung around, and ran smack dab into the source of the noise. He tentatively looked up and saw a pair of cold, seemingly black eyes staring down at him.
"What's somebody like you doing on this side of town?" The man asked, smiling twistedly. Ryou tried to take a step back, but the man followed him, seemingly in sync. "You don't belong here."
"H-how do you know I don't belong?" Ryou said bravely, catching the man off guard. He knew there was no way he was going to get out of this unless he acted braver than he felt. The man's eyes widened in shock only for a moment, though, and then he began to laugh.
"It's a little Brit!" He exclaimed, and Bakura cringed.
"It's a little limey!" One of his friends shouted. There were five in all. All of them looked absolutely terrifying and like they wanted to hurt something. Or, more accurately, someone. Their expressions twisted in the most unusual way when they laughed, and all of them were now chuckling madly.
"Do you listen to One Direction?" Asked a third, mocking his British accent.
"NOT all British people listen to One Direction!" He snapped, huffing. That was one of his least favorite stereotypes about brits.
"The limey is gay!" Shouted a fourth, and then they all joined in another chorus of laughing.
"NOT all British people are GAY!" He shouted, hoping to scare them off. It only made them laugh louder. And, the reason why it bothered him so was because he really wasn't sure. He'd put some thought into it, and decided it was something he'd explore later in life. He had too much on his plate as it was to really worry about it.
"Well, this one's feisty." Said the leader, returning to the topic. He turned back to Ryou with purpose and continued, "Give us something valuable and we'll let you go, okay?"
"No." Ryou spat, his thoughts automatically traveling to his Millennium Ring. He couldn't lose that. As much as he despised the person inside it, it was still a living being and he'd never forgive himself if he let something happen to him. Though the spirit probably didn't feel the same way about him. The man looked taken aback, but quickly composed himself, grinning twistedly at Ryou.
"Oh, so we're doing this the hard way, then?" He purred, holding out his hand. One of his goons darted forward to place a twisted metal object in his hand. Ryou knew he had to think fast.
"How about you play me in a game of Duel Monsters for my right to leave unharmed?" Bakura offered. The man looked disgusted.
"A children's card game? Next thing you know, you'll want to duel riding a motorcycle!" He said with a laugh. Ryou scowled.
"That's just ridiculous."
"Touché, but let's stop with the small talk. It's time for you to pay up." The man said, seeing a flash of gold around Ryou's neck. "How about that necklace?" He asked, gesturing towards it. Ryou started to panic. He used that necklace for everything! It was essential, it had Yami Bakura's spirit within it, and it was his gaydar. He looked so bloody effeminate, he needed to make sure he knew who could be perving on him. He didn't want to be taken advantage of (even if, with his other personality, he'd put up a decent fight). He felt, in his moment of panic, Bakura take over. He'd never felt so grateful not to be in control of his body.
"This is mine, and I'm willing to fight for it." Bakura growled, crouching slightly. Having not been paying much attention, he took a quick look around himself to see how he could best use the surroundings to his advantage.
"Have it your way." The man said, swinging the twisted metal at the spirit's head. Bakura dodged it, but was promptly grabbed by two henchmen, and they held him still as the man walked up.
Suddenly, there was a blinding flash as pain tore across his head. A dull throbbing started as he felt the blood begin to trickle down his face. He could feel so much blood, dripping out onto the ground. He moaned as everything started spinning, and he felt nauseous. He almost felt like he was going to throw up.
"How about now?" The man asked, bending over to talk to Bakura, who'd unconsciously doubled over from the pain. Bakura looked like he was preparing to speak, but instead raised his head enough to spit in the man's face. "Why you…." The man snarled, raising the metal to strike him again.
Bakura prepared for what he knew would be the last blow. What he'd thought as just a simple hit before had turned uglier than he previously expected, the dripping down his face turning into a steady flow, blood dripping and creating a crimson pool around his feet. He tensed up, ready to have to leave this body.
The blow never came. He looked up[ to find his attacker pushed against a wall, covered in yellow lines. This was clearly the work of some kind of magic.
"The yellow squiggly lines! They burn!" He cried. The rest of his 'loyal' group took one look at him and fled, fearing a similar fate.
Bakura dropped to the ground, not being able to support himself. He landed in his own blood, looking down. It didn't matter if he'd had that last blow or not, he was going to die.
"That's right, run like the cowards you are!" Marik declared, coming around the corner. His victory was short lived as he saw Bakura laying crumpled on the ground. "Are you okay?" He demanded, dropping to his knees beside him. He grabbed Bakura's head and looked into his eyes, desperate for any response.
Bakura moaned in response, not being able to form actual words through the haze of pain that clouded his mind. Being a spirit for so long, he wasn't even used to regular pain, (though he grinned and bore it) let alone pain of this caliber.
Marik's clothes were being stained by Bakura's blood, but for once he didn't care about clothes. There was something in him, (NOT his evil alter ego, Melvin) that desperately needed to save Bakura. He'd never been his friend, not really, just his partner. Though, he couldn't put his finger on why exactly he felt so compelled to save him, so it must've been that. Their fake, vindictive friendship. A friendship that didn't mean anything previously, but here Marik was, on his knees in a puddle of blood. That had to count for something.
Marik slipped off his shirt, pressing it to the laceration in Bakura's skull, trying desperately to stop the heavy blood flow.
The last thing Bakura remembered before he blacked out was being picked up and pressed against someone. Someone…warm. He looked up through his eyelashes, even though his vision was disoriented. This man was too beautiful to be human. He had to be an angel. An angel of death had come for him. A vaguely familiar angel…
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~*Two days later*~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Bakura woke up in a random strangers house, having no clue what happened to him, or where he was. At least Ryou hadn't taken control of his body back while he was asleep.
He gasped and sat up, discovering that this was probably not the best idea he's ever had. The room spun around him and he crashed back down, groaning in pain.
Marik, who had been waiting up for two days for him to wake up, ran immediately to his side. Bakura suddenly looked frightened.
Bakura's vision hadn't quite cleared yet, so he couldn't recognize Marik. Thinking back to that night, he remembered being picked up by a vaguely familiar angel. At the moment, he was wondering what the hell he'd done to deserve being taken prisoner by an angel of death.
Okay, so he did try to kill Yuugi and Yami. And he was a thief. And he felt no guilt over anything. And he'd hurt countless people. And he was evil. Okay, so there were a number of things he'd done to deserve it.
"You're awake!" Marik said joyfully, looking at Bakura with intrigue.
"…yes?" He said, rubbing his head. There were seven neat stiches in his scalp. He looked up at Marik confusedly. "What happened?"
"Well, you got into some trouble and got jumped. From what I heard, they were trying to steal your Millennium ring. You said no, so they hit you over the head with a mutilated tire iron. Who mutilates a tire iron? Anyways, that was when I came in and saved your British bottom. You can thank me later." He said, smiling. Bakura's vision cleared some and the recognition of the voice clicked in his head, and he recognized the character at last. He could vaguely remember being hit over the head, and then Marik carrying him off. It was all coming back to him now.
Bakura blushed deeply and mumbled something under his breath, half hoping that he wouldn't hear him. Of course, though, he did.
"What was that, Bakura?" Marik asked, tilting his head to the side curiously.
"I thought you were an angel of death." Bakura mumbled again. Marik laughed, having caught it that time.
"Am I really that sexy?" Marik asked, batting his eyelashes as he usually did in situations like this. Bakura turned a bright shade of scarlet.
"N-n-n-NO! That's not what I was implying at all! Bakura said defensively.
"Calm down, I was only teasing." Marik said in a relaxed tone. "Plus, it would be totally normal to think I'm sexy. I mean, I do half the fanservice on this show!"
"Hey! I do fan service, too!" Bakura said defensively, pouting.
"Please! You don't even take your shirt off once!" Marik said. There was an awkward pause.
"Blame it on the writing staff." Bakura said with a shrug.
"They probably just didn't want too many fangirls to faint." Marik said with a shrug of his own. "Plus, I shouldn't get too bitter towards writing staffs. I already blamed them when Naruto and Sasuke's actual kiss wasn't in episode 3 of the English dub."
"How do you speak English, anyways?"
"What do you mean?"
"According to your vague character development, you lived in a series of underground tunnels until your evil alter ego killed your father."
"Like Timmone in Lion King 1 and a half?"
"Touché. But my point is that you lived underground in Egypt. It's not exactly like you could go take an English, or …Japanese… or whatever the hell we're supposed to be speaking, it's not like you could go and take a class for it."
"Maybe we had internet?"
"No, I'm fairly sure you can't get internet in the middle of the desert for a series of underground tunnels. Plus, you were reading a book, and it wasn't fanfiction. If you had internet, you wouldn't have to read."
"Wow. I didn't have internet? I really did have the most emotionally disturbed backstory in the entire show! Not only that, but how did I learn English?"
"Your backstory leaves much to be desired."
"We should probably get back to the plot now."
"This fanfic has a plot?"
"What, now you don't remember being attacked by a thug in a random alley?"
"Oh, right, back to that."
"So, are you feeling okay?" Marik asked, putting a hand on Bakura's forehead. Bakura whimpered at the contact, flinching. "Sorry!" Marik said immediately, removing his hand. Bakura sighed.
"Good, as long as 'good' means I can feel my heartbeat in my skull and I feel like I might die. I'm doing just great!" Bakura said sarcastically. Marik stared at him in silence for a moment. "I got hit in the heat with a chunk of metal. How the hell do you think I feel?"
"Probably bad."
"You'd be right." Bakura said. Marik blinked, trying not to be wounded by Bakura's rudeness. With anyone else, he would've been at least ten times pissier, and Marik tried to keep that in mind as he walked over to the medicine cabinet.
"What are you doing?"
"I'm getting you some IB profin." Marik said, grabbing the small bottle and popping a couple of the small, red pills into his hand. He walked over to Bakura's side with a glass of water, handing him the pills. Bakura narrowed his eyes but said nothing, taking the pills and downing them with a swig of the water. "You'll need to take it easy for a while, you have a bad concussion." Marik said, and Bakura groaned.
"I really don't like taking it easy." Bakura said, turning slightly with a wince. Moving much was certainly out of the question.
"I'm sorry, that must be terrible for you." Marik said. Bakura winced but kept quiet. He was slightly worried that the "IB Profin" could've been drugged, but he figured that if it was 4Kids would've censored it out.
"SO, you're the one who saved me in the alley?" Bakura asked. Even though he was the holder of an ancient Egyptian magical artifact, he couldn't just tap into the magic to just help him clear his head and relieve his head. It's commonly referred to as plot convenience.
"Yes. I carried you to the hospital a couple blocks down the road. The doctors stitched you up and told me that after you woke up, it'd be best to get you some pain relievers and wait a couple of days before letting you walk. It's been a couple days already, but I think you should probably wait a little while longer. You have a bad concussion." Marik said. Bakura nodded his head, slowly drifting off to sleep again. He was still exhausted, and his body desperately needed to heal from the beating. That, and it gives us a convenient time for some thoughts from Marik.
Marik watched Bakura sleeping for a few moments. Bakura looked so peaceful sleeping like that. Normally, he looked so rough around the edges, so closed to conversation. In sleep, he almost seemed… content. There was something about it that Marik couldn't put his finger on.
Marik hesitated for a moment. Would it be okay…? They'd only even been friends to defeat the Pharoh! Their friendship had meant (supposedly) nothing, and afterwards, it had been nothing. Marik suddenly flashed back to the hospital. The sheer panic and fear that Bakura would bleed out to nothing in front of him, that he was going to lose his former… well, not-so-much-friend. Screw it. Marik thought dryly. I saved his life.
Marik leaned forward and tentatively pressed a light kiss to Bakura's forehead.
Instantly, Marik regretted it. This was an invasion of Bakura's personal space, he was asleep… he had a concussion for Ra's sake!
That wasn't really what made Marik regret it, though. No, what really made him regret it was…
Now he felt the need to press a kiss to his lips.
Marik tore himself away, walking to go find something else to occupy himself. He wasn't going to do that, couldn't…. At least, not while Bakura was asleep.
Not that he'd ever have the guts to try when he was awake.