Me: Okay... So I like fanfiction as much as the next person on this site. But the thing is: I just remembered (after being here for one year plus) what it's really about. Absolute indulgence for the author to take characters that don't belong to him/her and bend their personalities to his/her evil, author will. Basically, it's about fun! ^_^ Oh, I'm sure all the angst writers are shocked and appalled at that, but hey... it is. So please... Sit back, perhaps with a soda, perhaps in a fancy recliner... and read... and have fun with my fic, it's all I ask.

Disclaimer: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! *sniggers* And I suppose that's a good thing because the episodes would make even less sense then they do now if I had my hands on them...


Yami stumbled sluggishly down the stairs. The morning was cold but he felt unbearably hot and therefore, stopped to open a window before he continued his descent. Soon, he was surprised by the smell of bacon frying and his eyes adjusted to the sun-lit kitchen.

"Morning ^_^" smiled Ryou who was leaning over the stove, flipping the bacon with one hand and turning the radio up with the other. Yami managed a slight circle-wave and focused his ears on the radio. He heard one of his favorite angsty classics.

"With the lights out; it's less dangerous

Here we are now; entertain us

I feel stupid and contagious

Here we are now; entertain us..."

Ryou tutted at the small, FM radio and freed one hand to change the station, mumbling something it being too early for Nirvana. Yami silently agreed.

The former pharaoh sat down at the table, hearing a different tune filling the kitchen. The Spin Doctors, he thought.

"One, two... Princes kneel before you

(that's what I said now)

Princes Princes who adore you

(Just go ahead now)"

Yami reached for the newspaper that sat across from him on the polished, wood table. His desire to learn about current affairs was immediately squelched when he heard the dry, raspy voice belonging to the person sitting across from him.

"Watch it, Motou! I'm not finished with that!"

"You're already reading the Ra-damned stock section, Kaiba! At least give me the sports!"

Seto's ice blue eyes glared at the former pharaoh over the crisp edge of the Domino City Times. "What in the name of Obelisk the Tormenter would you want with the stocks?!"

"Now, Kaiba..." Ryou turned from his place at the kitchen counter to nag at Seto. "No dueling-talk at the breakfast table."

"What?!" The multi-millionaire demanded. "I just SAID 'Obelisk the Tormenter'..."

Ryou pointed the spatula at him in warning and Kaiba rolled his eyes, indignantly turning the page. Yami smiled a little before saying,

"At least give me the damn sports page." Seto obliged.

A fourth figure came tromping sleepily down the stairs, this one looking much like the boy at the stove. Bakura shuffled into the kitchen and turned his chair backwards before he sat down so that he was facing the back end.

"You just can't sit down like a normal person, can you?" sneered Seto.

Bakura rolled his eyes and reached for the Calendar section before grumbling something about shoving Seto in a blender.

"Well, I see someone hasn't had his coffee yet this morning..." Seto laughed and took a sip of the steaming cup of java in front of him (black, of course). Bakura made an obscene hand gesture as Tristan and Joey came down the stairs at the same time, both yawning.

"Man, I'm wiped!" Joey sighed and collapsed in a chair near Yami. "Yesterday, I was in two angst fics, three MaiXMe pairings and some comedy where I had to dance around aimlessly in a lobster suit."

Seto sighed. "Oh really? Well, I was paired with Isis, Mai, Tea..." He shivered "and Serenity... Then I was in four angsts, two me-bashings, and FIVE attempted suicides."

Tristan shook his head sympathetically and muttered, "Harsh..." Bakura laughed. Joey paused for a moment before saying, "WHAT about my sister?"

"Well, I'm afraid I have everyone beat..." Yami grinned, crossing his arms defiantly over his broad chest. "I was in six angsts, eight ancient Egypts, three Ask the Yamis quiz shows and paired with just about everyone in the cast." He paused for a time and then said, "Save Noah and Mokuba."

Ryou chose this moment to drop his cooking and turn to say, "Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Yami, but I double you in all those categories... Plus I've been in more yaoi than I can count..."

All of the male Yu-Gi-Oh! characters mumbled uncomfortably. They didn't like talking about yaoi much.

Yami sighed and leaned back in his chair. "Something has got to be done about this..."

"I know." Seto grumbled, folding the corners of the paper neatly together before tossing it aside. "It's all gotten so out of hand."

"And it all started with that guy... eh... What's his name?" Joey snapped his fingers, trying to clear his mind.

"Kazuki Takahashi..." everyone else groaned monotonously.

"Yeah..." The blonde's eyes narrowed. "Rich bastard makin' money offa all the stupid shit he puts us through..."

Yami nodded. "I know. It was one thing having our own show and all... But now... Well, it's all gotten to be too much... Fanfiction..." There were mumbles of agreement.

"Well," Ryou sighed as he placed breakfast on the table. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen... I have to be in another angst in about two minutes so enjoy..."

"Yeah..." Tristan sighed as he stood up. "I gotta be in a random fic... I hate those."

The group at the breakfast table began to depart, mumbling their laments, when suddenly Yami stood from his place at the head of the table.

"No... Wait--" He paused and then narrowed his eyes. "Why are we doing this?! Ryou, you're tired of all the attempted suicides and YouXBakura pairings, aren't you?"

Ryou and Bakura exchanged glances and both shrugged. "Well, yes..."

"And, Kaiba, though it's quite humorous to me, how many more Kaiba-bashings can you take?" Kaiba narrowed his eyes but nodded. "Joey, Tristan... What about you?! Tristan hardly ever is the subject of a fic and if he is, it's about how no one loves him. Joey, you hate being the butt of every joke and you hate being paired with Kaiba even worse..." Joey and Seto shivered simultaneously.

"Listen, all of you... Why do we put up with it, day after day? I say... we take back our dignity..."

There was a pause, as is custom after a speech of this magnitude. Finally, Joey raised and eyebrow and said, "Well, okay, Yami, but... how are we gonna do that?"

Yami paused, not sure how he was going to carry out his own plan, when someone came through the front door, swearing profusely.

"What the hell?!" It was a very pissed off author, her laptop under one arm, a mushroom floating by her head to mirror her frustration. "Ya know, not everyone has the luxury to sleep in past seven o'clock!" She tapped her wrist-watch. "I need you now."

The pharaoh blinked, knowing that she meant him but he didn't make a move to follow her.

"C'mon!" She sighed, shifting the laptop to the other arm. "I have stuff to write before spring break is over!"

In an instant, Joey had grabbed her by the legs and Seto had pinned her arms to the wall. She screamed, but by now, resistance was futile. Yami took a step toward her, watching her stunned expression from under his golden bangs. Grinning, he reached down and wrenched the laptop from her hands.

"Thank you..." He smiled amicably. In a flash, Bakura was off to find something to tie the authoress up with as Ryou watched Yami carry the laptop to a desk and open it. His fingers moved over the keys and he managed to open Notepad.



In about fifteen minutes, they had the authoress tied to a chair (though she'd put up quite a fight) and were all crowded around Yami and the small computer.

"So, what're ya gonna do with it?" Joey asked eagerly.

"I'm voting for releasing a virus into cyberspace to wipe out all fanfiction." Seto crossed his arms and grinned.

"No, no!" cried Tristan. "Send threatening emails to!"

Yami smiled and laughed. "Oh, no... I'm going to do much better than that!"

"Well what damnit!?!?"

Yami typed in capital letters at the top of the Notepad page "OUR FANFIC". There was a stunned silence... and then cheers.

The pharaoh cracked his knuckles and then began to type furiously. The others watched eagerly as the authoress mumbled "Dear... GOD..." under her breath. History, as we knew it, was changed forever.