Disclaimer – I do not own YuGiOh, or any of the characters therein. This is a work of FAN fiction, which means I'm not making any money off it, even though I could REALLY use the extra.

Author's Notes- slips a note out from under the bomb shelter door Hello, everyone. Yes, it's me, and I'm still alive. I know many of you have been frustrated, if not downright wanting to grab a pitchfork, torch, or anything else handy to hunt me down, and I do apologize. I won't go into the whole sordid story, but suffice to say that my life since my last updates on ANY of my stories has not been conducive to writing AT ALL. It's only recently that I have been able to pick up the threads of my writing talent and begin again.

I hope all of you will forgive me.

With that said, I am going through and updating the stories I HAVE gotten some done on, and I will promise that more will be forthcoming. In fact, I have managed to work on a few brand new stories for your enjoyment.

I hope to see you all around, and please … leave a review. Trust me when I say that at this moment, they would be very nice.

Chapter 8 -

I hate Mondays. I really, really hate Mondays. And this Monday is even worse than usual.

I'm not missing my hikari, I'm not missing my hikari, I'm not . . . oh fuck, who am I kidding? Yeah, I miss the little shit. The television isn't quite as amusing as usual today. Must be the lack of horror movies on. I really need a good dose of blood and screaming. Of course, it would be better if I was the one causing those screams . . .

Ahh, good to have my mind back in working, sadistic order. I'd almost despaired of having lost my touch. This whole love thing has definitely been stressful to my health. Hmm, that reminds me . . . wonder if Yugi was walking straight this morning? Or would it be Yami? After the advice I gave him yesterday . . .

Oh fuck, I did not need that mental image! Gods, I think I might puke! Time for a cup of coffee to wash that foul taste out of my mouth, and hopefully that disgusting image out of my head! That really is enough to drive me insane! Or would that be more insane?

Hnn, the kitchen is a wreck. Usually, this wouldn't even be worthy of my attention, but I know how much it irritates yadonoushi. And since Ryou irritated might mean I don't get any . . . ah, fuck, why not? I'm bored enough to do something completely annoying like clean.

Yes, I'm going to clean the kitchen. And maybe the rest of the house while I'm at it. After all, a happy hikari means more sex for me. HAH! Now that was DEFINITALY more like my usual self! I haven't gone off the deep end yet!

Okay, Ra damn it, I seriously hate technology! I, the King of Thieves, just jumped about a foot because of that cursed phone-thing. Well, fuck it, I'm not answering the damn thing. They'll hang up after a few rings.

Or a dozen. What the fuck?! Nobody ever sits and listens to a phone ring for that long when no one answers it! Okay, curiosity aroused . . . who is the moron on the other end of that thing? Flipping through channels while picking up the damn thing . . . oh, hello! 'The Evil Dead' is on. At least something to watch while I deal with whoever's on the fucking phone.

How am I today? Who the fuck asks a stupid question like that?! Would I like to subscribe to your magazine? What the . . . ah, wait a minute . . . this guy is a telemarketer. Ryou's mentioned these annoying people once or twice, usually about the time his patience is at its limit. And my hikari's patience is usually endless. They call to try to make you buy things, I think he said, and usually don't take no for an answer. Hmmm . . . this could actually be fun. Now, what to do, what to do . . . ahha!

How am I today? Oh, I'm fine . . . you know, nothing like a ritual slaughter and demon summoning to make everything right in your world. Okay, try not to laugh at the sputter on the other end of the phone while the television screams in the background. This guy is trying so hard to keep going its almost pathetic.

Would I like a subscription to your magazine? Well . . . what subjects does it cover? I mean, honestly, you have to be specific here. Do you cover the various instruments used in torture? How about specific herbs and incense uses for minor demons? No? Okay, so what DOES your magazine feature in its articles?

Oops, I'm sorry, I'll have to ask you to hold on a second. My circle wasn't QUITE perfect and it seems my demon is a little hungry. I have to go make sure he doesn't eat my apprentice. Be right ba . . . what? Of COURSE I'm serious, you fool! You should never joke about things like demon summoning and ritual sacrifice! Don't you know it attracts their attention!?

Putting the phone down right near the television speakers probably isn't the nicest thing in the world, especially during some truly blood-curdling screams, but I never did claim to be a nice person. I guarantee that the guy on the other end of the phone has probably pissed himself, or is sweating and shivering so badly he's going to fall apart. And the poor bastard can't even hang up.

Whoa! Okay, that is fucking enough there! For a moment I almost pitied the poor fuck enough to hang up on him! To hell with that . . . he's the idiot that called and disturbed me, he can pay the price for it. Good Ra, pity out of me is . . . well, completely fucking wrong, to be honest. Ryou's influence, no doubt. Damn it, he's going to turn me soft! Ah well, I wouldn't know what to do with out him, as much as I hate to admit it, so I guess a few spots of softness won't kill me. In this time period, anyway. Although if the Pharaoh ever fucking finds out . . .

Sweet Isis, what in the hell happened to this counter!? If Ryou saw this he'd have a kitten . . . gods, it almost looks like I slaughtered a cow in here or something. Hnn, that's going to require soaking . . .

HOLY SHIT! RYOU! For the love of the Gods, DON'T fucking DO that!! Wait a minute . . . what the hell are you doing home so damn early, anyway!? What do you mean you're not early? It's only . . .

Now that's not something that happens every lifetime or two. I have somehow become so fucking immersed in cleaning and listening to horror movies that I completely lost track of time. It's already three in the afternoon, most of the house is clean . . . and my hikari just looks plain shocked over that one . . . and the phone is still off the hook and in front of the television speakers. Hnn . . . looks like I've become somewhat domesticated. I'd almost be shocked if it weren't for the fact of just who my hikari is.

Whoa . . . what's this about the Pharaoh and his runt? Oh, now this is too good! They were BOTH limping at school today? And looked like they'd gotten mauled by a couple of cats? Too perfect . . . oh, the fun I can have with this! What? Oh, don't give me that look, Ryou. One, it isn't going to work this time. Two, I had a hand in them limping, thank you very much, so I earned the right to rub it in. What? Oh, you want to know what I mean by having a hand in it. Hnn . . . well, you remember the runt showing up yesterday during that little conversation with your father? Yes, well he wanted to know how he should go about seducing the spike-headed twit yami of his, and I gave him a load of suggestions.

No, I did NOT tell him that they should maul each other, they did that all on their own! Have at least a LITTLE faith in me!

Yep, there is that guilt trip again that works oh so well. I have a cuddling hikari, and in my own twisted way I have apparently done a good deed.

Perhaps this won't be such a bad existence after all.

Yes, I think I can get to like this, indeed. Very, very much.

Perhaps I am no longer a demon, and Ryou is not quite an angel. But it doesn't really matter anymore, does it? We're both what we are . . . and we have each other.

The gods can just deal with us as we are.

I'm good with that, now. I'm psychotic, demented, twisted, sadistic . . . and happy.

Take that, everyone.