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faeroviolet · 4 years

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Mystery chocopie(fanfic)

Content:

⚫ English version

⚫ Русская версия(внизу)

Сredits: Studio au by @zu-is-here other in the end, since It’s the spoiler...

Attention: there can be many letters, words and sentences here. Contains Out of Character(OOC), a lot of humor, hellcrazy, anarchy of imagination, strange action anomaly and other weird thing... Sorry, not sorry...

There can be mistakes because ... no one has ever said whether I write English badly or not. They never said at all whether my stories were interesting or they like them, they never said anything at all. Nothing ,_,

Today is such a wonderful day: a clear blue sky with a bright sun shining above. It's about 1pm now. And the work at the studio is in full swing. Despite the bustle that soars throughout the pavilion, there is a sense of calm and peace. This's a kind of harmony that nothing can break, except...

Sudden crash and noise. The shout coming from the room was so loud that it could be heard outside. Even a small bird, peacefully sleeping on a branch, had to wake up abruptly and also hastily leave its seat, sleepily flapping its wings. What's going on? Someone is being killed... or given to domestic violence?! If someone passed by, then from what he heard, the soul would go into his heels and would not dare to climb out of there before its owner gets to the house, you never know what you can imaginate.

As they say: there's no smoke without fire. So who started the fire? It's easy to find out by watching what is happening through the window of the third floor.

A skeleton with purple lights in his eye sockets spoke in raised tones with the same skeleton as him, only the pupils were golden in color. Apparently the first one scolded the second one for something:

“Dream, where are choco-pies?!” Without stopping to ask the same question, Nightmare fiercely poked his finger into a silver tray, on which crumbs from the sweets that were recently lying there were still visible.

“N-nightmare, I didn't touch anything.“ Still defending himself with the same response, Dream held out his palms in front of himself.

“Don’t lie!!! When I came here you were rummaging around in the lockers, and there was already an empty tray on the table. How do you explain this to me?“

“Firstly, I came and everything was like this.” The light-eyed skeleton tried to calm the unexpected ardor of his brother. “Secondly, what are you talking about? And... why did it make you so angry?”

“Ugh, I brought some tasty treats to everyone... Or did you not see when we were going?” Nightmare breathed deeply. “I put them on a tray, but especially for myself I put one on another plate and put it where no one would take it for sure.” He pointed to the kitchen table behind where the mentioned utensil item was. “There were 99 choco-pies and one mine: generally - 100! And all of them are gone! What can you say to that, brother?”

“Oh, Nighty, I don't know. I didn't even look that way.”

“But where could they just go? So many...”

For a moment, Nightmare stopped and thought, his anger subsided. He walked over to the wall and sat down in a small armchair, putting his finger to his chin and looking up at the ceiling. Dream decided to join the pondering of this situation and sat down in a armchair nearby. But, unfortunately, not a single thought entered their skulls. Of course, how could this happen? It is simply impossible for such a large amount to disappear at once! Nightmare, desperate to find a clue to this mystery, sighed and slightly wilted: he did the wrong thing, yelling at Dream. After all, his brother isn’t guilty of anything, and he, hastening to conclusions, cursed him like that. He ought to apologize, so turned to him, about to say this, but his gaze caught on something else, and he stopped before even started.

Just in the corridor passed another skeleton, his eye sockets were hollow and faint black streaks were visible on the cheekbones below them. He greedily licked the bones of his fingers and was about to go to his room, when Nightmare ran into him. He looked at him dumbfounded, and Killer did not at all understand the meaning of the look of this weirdo.

“What's wrong... Nightmare?”

“It's you!” The skeleton with purple eyelights shouted right into his nonexistent ears.

Immediately after Nightmare, Dream ran up. He anxiously began to drag his brother, who was firmly caught on the other’s shoulders, muttering something about stepping on the same rake. The older twin calmed down a bit, and both skeletons, along with Killer, returned to their armchairs. The brothers settled down on the seats, and the last one continued to stand beside him, still not delving into what was happening. What was the problem?

“What actually happened?” Killer nevertheless asked the question that tormented him, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his head to the side.

“It's just that Nightmare was furious that someone ate 100 choco-pies, among which was his, specially postponed!“ The younger twin said unceremoniously. At this explanation of the situation, Nightmare slightly frowned: the manner in which it was pronounced, he didn’t like.

“Because you obviously have something to eat... Look! How tou smiled and slobbering your fingers!”

Killer reacted calmly to such a stinging statement.

“Oh, this...” With a sly grin, he licked his still sweet finger once more. “Ccino and I were playing.”

“What?! Without me?” Nightmare almost fell from his chair and, jumping up from his seat, wanted to be indignant, but stopped and, slightly blushing, glanced nervously at Dream. He cleared his throat and continued: “Umm, I mean... Stop wandering around idle!”

“Oh! Do you know what?” The empty-eyed exclaimed immediately, as if nothing had happened, not paying attention to Night's embarrassment at all. Brothers looked at him as if they were listening intently, waiting for him to continue. “We need to check something! Let's go.”

Killer led them long and tediously along many corridors. And where to? They stopped at a dressing room, and their favorite guide, who took the fellow travelers into the wilderness*, knocked on the door. Not hearing a response from there, he happily opened it. Having walked a little inside and, at the same time looking around just in case, Killer gestured to the dummies to come in.

Once in the room, the brothers didn’t know what to expect further from the miracle without a skirt*, so they just watched his actions. And he quickly and surely rushed forward to some picture, which depicted peaches and daisies, and held out his hands to it. Oh, what a shock and surprise was on the faces of Dream and Nightmare when they saw what was behind the beautiful 'masterpiece'. And it even seemed to them that at that moment on Killer’s forehead could read: “I can look at you for eternity, and I'll never get tired of it!”.

“Shh! It's a secret.” He put his finger to his mouth conspiratorially.

“What's this?! Safe?” Immediately Nightmare shouted, but then lowered his tone, as if catching this vibe of secrets and conspiracies. "What's there?”

“I'll open it now and you will find out!” The main 'conspirator' said happily.

“Do you have a code?” Dream was surprised.

“Yep, what did you think? I put it on.“ He grunted in response, dialing the numbers on the display.

When the device sounded, notifying about the correctness of the entered sequence, Killer opened the door and turned to those present with a solemn “Ta-da!”. Not hearing a standing ovation or at least some ooh-ooh, he stalled and turned to the safe, entering into a stupor finally. Empty... There was...

“Empty!” He screamed with a tragic tone and hung on the iron monster. He would have cried, but he was stopped here with questions.

“And what was supposed to be here, smart guy?” Night asked, apparently pleased with his suffering.

“There..." ‘The Drama Queen’ sniffed and rubbed his eye socket. "There must have been my chocolates hidden away for a rainy day.”

“Hidden away, you say?” Nightmare frowned, walked closer to Killer and pulled on himself, looking terribly right into the void of his eye sockets.

“Well, well, Nighty, let the poor man go.” Lisping, his brother gently sang, touching other's shoulder. "He's a victim. The same as we do. Lost..." Dream also made an overly dramatic look. " ...His precious!”

Nightmare groaned painfully and exhaustedly and let go of the poor 'puppy'. They went back to the place where the first incident took place. On the way, Dream and Killer were laughing so hard that it seemed that they could be heard even 100 kilometers away! Simply unbearable... for Nightmare! When they got to the right place, the three detectives sat down at the table, thinking about the "Case of missing the sweet treasure". The name Killer gave. And this picture, which was drawn by an unknown creator, is called "Three knights at the table with crumbs of dead cakes". Another Killer’s joke.

They sat and sat while the wall clock ticked. But nothing came into their heads: not a single sensible thought, not a single guess. It was so upsetting. After all, the situation itself was unusual: it was very puzzling and did not allow believing in its existence. So what's the point? Do keep thinking about it? Dream has been thinking only about these questions lately. To be honest, he wasn’t so interested in it, besides, there are still so many things to do. But something held him back: the reason his brother was so obsessed with it. He wanted to figure it out. Why was Nightmare so angry? Why did he keep on raging? Why is this important to him? It's all so complicated... Dream sighed and lay down on his elbows on the table. He was drawn to sleep, but before he could even close his eyes, someone touched his shoulders.

“Dream, have you seen my chocolate juice?" The skeleton turned around and patted his eyes, met with a familiar and beloved face. Cross stood looking at him for a while, but then turned away and walked to the trash can by the wall. “Maybe it's here somewhere?”

“Cross, don't dig in the trash!" Dream blew up. "Then you need...”

“Found!" The skeleton exclaimed happily, pulling out a box from under some drink from a plastic container. He quickly got up from his knees and walked straight back to the crowd, beaming.

“Cross, you won't drink... from this?" The yellow-eyed skeleton crossed his arms in displeasure.

“Aah... There is already nothing." Cross exhaled in frustration, turning to the others. "By the way, what are you doing here?”

“For your information, garbage rat..." Killer began jokingly.

"What rat?" Indignantly, Cross banged his palm on the table in front of the insolent skeleton .

"So you agree with 'garbage’?" He didn’t calm down, to which he received an evil glance from Nightmare:

“Stop here... throw name-calling! Preventing thinking...”

“What are you thinking about?” Cross inquired again, sitting down on a chair.

“It's just that we have lost something here... that is, I'm listing: 100 choco-pies brought by Nightmare, and Killer's black stock of chocolate.” The younger twin explained to the dear one, tenderly singing every word.

“Hmm...” The two-color-eyed thought. “Do you know? Something similar happened to me.”

“In what sense?”

“Look...” He put an empty box on the table, Dream frowned at this a little, but then relaxed, deciding not to show his displeasure to the dirt. “I was busy with my own business, along the way drinking my juice. I turned away for a minute and... Wow! It has gone.”

Now a fourth has joined their team. But even with additional strength, nothing came of it, and time passed. Something, but this cannot be stopped, just like getting out of this web of problems. Outside the window could already be seen a motley orange-red sky — it’s evening. Imagine, they spent almost half a day on this! Unimaginable! And in the end came to nothing... These're the worst of all. Everyone, except Nightmare, got up and decided to go home already. Dream stopped, waiting for his brother, who continued to sit and incinerate the wooden surface with a piercing gaze of concentration.

“Find, let's go home, it's too late. Why do you need this? It has already happened and that's it...” He touched the shoulders of the elder, trying to reach his mind and induce him to quit.

“I have an idea!” Suddenly Nightmare jumped up and exclaimed, attracting everyone's attention. “Let's stay here and set a trap for the sweet tooth thief!”

Killer and Cross began to exchange glances, and then looked expectantly at Dream, who was standing behind Nightmare. Catching their glances, he sighed and with a gesture, as it were, showed that there was no choice. Brother got too carried away, that's all.

~~~

The wind is blowing, you can hear it howling ... Someone didn’t close the window or the walls are so thin here? To tell the truth, at such a late hour the studio rooms look scary, and the strange rustle and blue moonlight creates the atmosphere of some kind of horror movie or vampire romance. And yet why did they start it? What if something bad happens? Cross didn’t understand all this, as well as why he got involved in this. But there's nothing to do, only breathing relaxes.

“But I warn you!” It seems that all the gloom of the environment didn’t attract Killer in any way, or he simply ignored the wariness of other participants in this idea. "This is the last chocolate bar that I have, so you, Nightmare, will owe me one more...”

“Yes, yes, yes...” But other's arrogance did not hurt at all. Nightmare was already busy arranging inventory for a makeshift trap, and distraction wasn’t his priority.

“And a box of chocolates sweets for moral damage!” Killer crossed his arms over his chest as if he were some kind of offended lady of high society. To this, only a long exhalation was heard, and Nightmare, rising and crossing his arms, like the other skeleton, rolled his eyes, and then said:

“Anything you order, madam.”

At such an treatment, the aforementioned 'Queen' fell into a stupor and, swaying back and forth on his feet, turned away, hiding a shame-and-shy blush. Oh, how shameless he’s! And Nightmare also gave a fire: he still has no idea how ambiguous he sometimes speaks! But this’s nothing, Killer knows what he’ll do late... But now he need to satisfy the Nightmare's desire to catch the unknown. And Nightmare had just finished and came up to tell the plan:

“Killer will put the bait there, and we'll watch in turn, okay?”

After receiving agreement in the form of nods, Nightmare headed for the exit into the corridor. When Killer asked where he was going, the skeleton waved his hand, indicating that his curious nose was not the case. Snorting at that, Killer went back to the others and joined in, taking a seat behind the barricade of armchairs.

Time passed for a long, in the emptiness of the room the ticking of the clock was heard very clearly and distinctly, even annoying. Nothing happened at all. Nothing! Killer turned to his teammates and frowned. They have already managed to doze off, nestling at each other's sides. What a bum! He sighed... After all, it’s true: the whole thing was initially meaningless. They simply cannot find the one who has committed all the atrocities. And one more strange thing... Nightmare hasn't come yet. And where has our commander gone? Wasn't that so important to him? The skeleton rose from the floor and stretched, kneading the bones of his arms.

He’s so tired, and until Nightmare returns there is no way to leave: it will somehow come out rudly. Killer glanced at the trap and covered his mouth, ready to yawn.

“Even if no one shows up, he will owe me one mo-”

Without even having time to breathe, the skeleton shuddered and slightly choked. For a moment it seemed to him that he saw someone's figure. Having brought himself to more or less calmness, Killer hastened to wake up two sleeping ‘kittens’.

“Uugh! Killer, we agreed: you are watching first, and we are watching later!” Cross grumbled displeased, trying not to raise the tone too much so as not to frighten Dream.

“But this’s important!”

“Your jokes cannot be important...”

“Cross, that's enough...” A little rubbing his right eye socket and yawning, Dream hissed. “Maybe it's really important. What is it, Killer?”

“It seems to me that I saw someone.”

“If it seems, go to the ophthalmologist.*” Cross interjected, narrowing his eyes.

“But it's true! We are alone here and no one else can be, it is unnerving. And also...” The next words the skeleton muttered so that they couldn’t be made out. “Nightmare went somewhere and didn’t return.”

“So, calm down, both.“ Dream tried to cool the guys, and then, looking around, he continued: “Let's see if our ‘uninvited guest’ took the sweet bait.”

Cross didn't want to believe it, but Killer was right along the way that there was an outsider in the building: there was no chocolate on the table. So what should they do next? After all, apparently, they have already missed the ‘criminal’. But there was another snag...

“Uh... brother still doesn’t return.” The skeleton with yellow eyes, which under the light of the moon sparkled with a golden hue, said quietly and sadly.

“By the way, I also thought about it...” Killer spread his arms and shook his head.

“Since he started all this, we'll only find out further actions from him.” Cross said, leaning on the table. “Let's go look for him...”

Agreeing with this idea, they went out into the corridor. It was a long and terrible journey. It was much darker in here than in that room. It seems that not only the wind can be heard, but also a rustle and some kind of grinding. This began to strain not only Cross, who was uncomfortable here from the very beginning, but also Dream. He pressed against the other skeleton even tighter, and, even despite the circumstances, It’s caused some warm feelings inside two-color-eyed and a faint blush on his cheeks.

The sudden clink of broken glass made the skeletons flinch and draw attention to it. They hurried to find out what was going on there, and froze, turning the corner. There was a figure standing not far from the shards of a vase lying on the floor. It seemed familiar, but... Who could it be? Squinting, Killer was the first to guess:

“Nightmare!!!” Rays of bluish light emerged from the curtains covering the window, illuminating half of the above-named skeleton. “What are you doing?”

The empty-eyed skeleton came closer and touched the other's shoulder. Nightmare flinched, dropping something from his hands, and slowly turned his head, looking into the face of his friend with an view as if he had just recently woken up. This greatly surprised the other skeleton, so he tilted his head to the side, waiting for answers, but without waiting for anything, he paid attention to the object that was lying on the floor. Killer bent down and took it in his hands. Looking closely, he was able to determine that it was... no wonder, chocolate! Not just any, but that one! Killer was sure. But he couldn’t understand what that could mean.

Dream and Cross didn't understand either. They approached with Killer, but all this time they were just silent. Everyone was so confused that they didn't even know what to say. Even Nightmare himself was shocked.

"Highty..." After a while his brother said quietly, drawing attention to himself. "So you're a lunatic? I didn't notice before...”

“I ... I ...” He darted his gaze across the dark room and fiddled with the phalanges of his fingers. “I don't even know what to say, guys..."

“So maybe you did it all?" Killer said, rising from the floor and continuing to hold the sweet bar in his hand. The violet-eyed skeleton lowered its head apologetically at his words. But it seems that this wasn’t enough for the other skeleton, so he decided to list all the crimes committed: "You personally ate all the choco-pies that you yourself brought. You ate my supply of chocolate. You drank Cross' juice. And the worst thing: you blamed everyone for this, even your own brother!”

"I'm sorry! Really." The skeleton exclaimed, ashamed and humiliated to the very bottom “I wanted to apologize to Dream, but! Lost on you. Sorry, I really don't know what came over me!”

“Don’t mind, brother.” Dream intervened, hugging him soothingly. "I’m not angry. I guess... you're just overtired. And, perhaps, from this you sleepwalk. I told you not to overexert yourself.”

And now: the solution to this mystery has come. They can already go home, but it wasn’t end! There was one thing that did not tie into all the facts at all...

“And yet, Killer, you are in something wrong " Cross held out thoughtfully, putting his finger to his chin, staring at the toes of his shoes.

"Hmm, and in what?" He grunted, putting his hands on his hips.

“Nightmare may have eaten the choco-pies and drank my juice, but he couldn't break open the safe while he was unconscious. Something doesn't add up.”

"But who cou-”

Suddenly, some rustling distracted Killer, not allowing him to finish the question. There was a grinding and a strange rumbling sound. It attracted the others: turning, they stared into the darkness that covered the half of the room. Something flashed in the depths, and disturbing sounds intensified. The skeletons stepped back, huddled together and huddled against each other. The terrible lights resembled the eyes of some creature. What could it be? It approached, forcing them to retreat in fear closer to the bend. A little more and it will be possible to find out what was hidden in the black haze. The last clinking step and...

“Meow!”

Friends screamed and rushed away. Without turning around, they walked away from danger in disgrace. Was there any danger in that? It's just a cute little kitty. Maybe such a dark atmosphere allowed their fantasy to play out? No one can know for sure. And is this really the end?

“Hey, guys? What were you doing here?” The skeleton in a beige sweater, smiling sweetly under the moonlight, lifted a white cat.

This, of course, was an unexpected turn. But shouldn't we be asking this question, Ccino? After all, they never find out about it. Just as they do not know what scared them that night. This also applies to... So who ate Killer's chocolate? True, there were many questions in this story. And you might think you've knew the answers to all of them, but no. This is an erroneous assumption.

This is something to which there is no answer. Since all these riddles must remain unsolved. And only you yourself will understand what is true and what is false. You decide how you answer.

* — In those places marked with this sign, there should have been Russian jokes... but you won't understand them(nobody can), so this may seem like very strange sentences.

Credits: Dream and Nightmare by jokublog Cross!Sans by jakei95 Killer!Sans by rahafwabas Ccino!Sans by black-nyanko

BOOOOM, explosion of my brain.

Hmm... That's all, and I forgot what I wanted to say at the end.

So... now I go.

Так, так, тут есть предупреждения: большой текст, слабым на много буковок и мало картинок не смотреть, тут есть ООС(потому что по-другому я не могу), адское безумие, анархия воображения, вам может показаться, что происходящее здесь это полный бред, хотя да, так и есть, тут должно быть смешно.

“Таинственный чокопай”(фанфик)

Сегодня такой чудесный день: ясное голубое небо с сияющем вышине ярким солнцем. Сейчас где-то час дня. А работа на студии кипит. Несмотря на суету, витающую по всему павильону, ощущается какое-то спокойствие и умиротворение. Это эдакая гармония, которую ничто не может нарушить, разве что...

Внезапный грохот и шум. Крики, доносящиеся из комнаты, были настолько громкими, что их было слышно на улице. Даже маленькой птичке, мирно спящей на ветке, пришлось резко проснуться и также поспешно покинуть насиженное место, спросонья еле хлопая крыльями. Что же происходит? Кого-то убивают... или придают домашнему насилию?! Если бы кто-то проходил мимо, то от услышанного у него бы душа в пятки ушла и не посмела бы оттуда вылазить до того, как её хозяин доберется до дома, мало ли, что можно понапридумывать.

Как говорится: нет дыма без огня. Так кто же устроил пожар? Это легко выяснить, пронаблюдав происходящие через окно третьего этажа.

Скелет с фиолетовыми огнями в глазницах говорил на повышенных тонах с таким же скелетом, как и он, только того зрачки были золотистого цвета. Видимо первый за что-то ругал второго:

— Дрим, где чокопаи?! — не унимаясь задавать один и тот же вопрос, Найтмер яростно тыкал пальцем в серебряный поднос, на котором ещё виднелись крошки от недавно лежащих там вкусняшек.

— Н-найтмер, я ничего не трогал — все продолжая защищаться одним и тем же ответом, Дрим выставил ладони перед собой.

— Не ври!!! Когда я пришел ты здесь шарился в шкафчиках, а на столе уже стоял пустой поднос. Как ты мне это объяснишь?

— Во-первых, я пришел, и все было таким — светлоглазый скелет пытался унять неожиданный пыл своего брата. — Во-вторых, о чем ты говоришь? И... почему тебя это так разозлило?

— Агх, я принес всем вкусняшки... Или ты не видел, когда мы собирались? — глубоко выдохнул Найтмер. — Поставил все на поднос, но специально для себя отложил один на другую тарелку и поставил там, где точно не возьмут. — он указал на кухонный стол позади, где находился выше указанный элемент посуды. — Было 99 чокопаев и один мой: в итоге — 100! И всех их нет! Что ты можешь на это сказать, брат?

— Ох, Найти, не знаю. Я даже не смотрел в ту сторону.

— Но куда же они могли просто так деться? Столько...

На мгновение Найтмер остановился и задумалась, его злость стихла. Он отошел к стене и сел в небольшое кресло, приложив палец к подбородку и подняв взор к потолку. Дрим решил присоединится к обдумыванию этой ситуации и присел в кресло, находящееся рядом. Но, к сожалению, ни единая мысль не приходила в их черепушки. Конечно же, как такое могло произойти? Просто невозможно, чтобы такое большое количество в раз и исчезло! Найтмер от отчаяния найти разгадку на эту тайну вздохнул и слегка поник: неправильно он поступил, накричав на Дрима. Ведь его брат в ничем не виноват, а он, поспешив с выводами, обругал его так. Нужно бы извинится. Он повернулся к нему, собираясь сказать это, но зацепился взглядом за кое-что другое и остановился, даже не начав.

Как раз в коридоре проходил другой скелет, его глазницы были полыми и еле заметные черные потеки виднелись на скулах под ними. Он жадно облизывал кости пальцев и собирался идти в свою комнату, как на него налетел Найтмер. Тот ошалело смотрел на него, и Киллер совсем не понимал значения взгляда этого чудика.

— Что такое... Найтмер?

— Это ты! — закричал ему прямо в несуществующие уши скелет с фиолетовыми глазами.

Сразу же после Найтмера подбежал и Дрим. Он обеспокоенно начал оттаскивать крепко зацепившегося за чужие плечи брата, бурча что-то про наступление на одни и те же грабли. Старший близнец все же немного успокоился, и оба скелета вместе с Киллером вернулись к креслам. Братья разместились на сидениях, а последний продолжил стоять рядом, все ещё не вникая в происходящее. В чем же была проблема?

— А что в общем-то случилось? — все-таки задал терзающий его вопрос Киллер, скрестив руки на груди и наклонив голову на бок.

— Да просто Найтмер взбесился от того, что кто-то съел 100 чокопаев, среди которых был и его, специально отложенный! — не церемонясь, заявил младший близнец. На такое объяснение ситуации Найтмер слегка нахмурился: манера, с которой оно было произнесено, ему не понравилась.

— Да потому что ты явно чем-то полакомился... Вон! Как улыбался и пальцы свои слюнявил!

Киллер спокойно отреагировал на такое язвительное высказывание.

— Ах, это... — он с хитрой ухмылкой ещё раз лизнул все ещё сладкий палец. — Мы с Чино игрались.

— Что?! Без меня? — Найтмер чуть не грохнулся с кресла и, подскочив с места, хотел было возмутится, но осекся и, слегка покраснев, нервно глянул на Дрима. Прокашлявшись, продолжил: — То есть... Прекрати без делу шататься!

— Ох! А знаете что? — тут же как в ничем не бывало воскликнул пустоглазый, совсем не обратив внимание на смущение Найта. Братья посмотрели на него, как будто внимательно слушают, ожидая, когда тот продолжит. — Нам нужно кое-что проверить! Идемте.

Вел их Киллер долго и нудно по множеству коридоров. И куда же? Они остановились у одной гримерки, и их любимый проводник, который завел попутчиков в дебри не пойми куда, постучался в дверь. Не услышав оттуда отклика, он радостно открыл её. Пройдя чуть вовнутрь и, попутно оглядываясь на всякий случай, Киллер жестом пригласил болванчиков на ножка войти.

Оказавшись в комнате, братья не знали, чего ожидать дальше от чуда без юбки, поэтому просто наблюдали за его действиями. А тот быстро и верно ринулся вперед к какой-то картине, на которой были изображены персики и маргаритки, и протянул к ней руки. Ох, какой же шок и удивление было на лицах Дрима и Найтмера, когда они увидели, что находилось за прекрасным “шедевром”. И им даже показалось, что у Киллера в тот момент на лбу можно было прочесть: “Я могу вечность смотреть на вас, и это мне никогда не надоест!”.

— Тсс! Это секрет — заговорщицки прислонил палец ко рту тот.

— Это что?! Сейф? — сразу же крикнул Найтмер, но потом снизил тон, как бы поймав этот вайб секретов и заговоров. — Что там?

— Сейчас открою, и узнаете! — радостно вымолвил главный “заговорщик”.

— У тебя есть код? — удивился Дрим.

— Ага, а как же ты думал? Я ведь его поставил — хмыкнул тот в ответ, набирая цифры на дисплее.

Когда прибор пиликнул, уведомляя о верности введенной последовательности, Киллер отворил дверцу и повернулся к присутствующим с торжественным “Та-да!”. Не услышав оваций или хотя бы каких-то охов-ахов, он застопорился и повернулся к сейфу, войдя в ступор вот окончательно. Пусто... Там было...

— Пусто! — он закричал с трагическим тоном и повис на железном чудовище. Ещё бы чуть-чуть и заплакал, но его тут остановили с расспросами.

— И что же здесь должно было быть, умник? — спросил Найт, видимо, довольный его страданиями.

— Там... — "Королева драмы” шмыгнул носом и потер глазницу. — Должны были быть мои припрятанные на черный день шоколадки.

— Припрятанные, говоришь? — Найтмер нахмурился, подошел ближе к Киллеру и потянул на себя, страшно заглядывая прямо в пустоту глазниц того.

— Ну-ну, Найти, отпусти беднягу — сюсюкаясь, ласково пропел его брат, коснувшись чужого плеча. — Он ведь пострадавший. Так же, как и мы. Потерял... — Дрим тоже сделал чересчур драматический вид. — ...Свою прелесть!

Найтмер страдательно и измученно простонал и отпустил бедного “щеночка”. Они пошли обратно: к месту, где произошло первое происшествие. По пути Дрим и Киллер так ржали, что казалось — их можно было услышать и за 100 километров! Просто невыносимо... для Найтмера! Добравшись до нужного места, трое детективов уселись за столом, задумавшись о “Деле пропажи сладкого сокровища”. Название, которое дал Киллер. А эта картина, которая нарисована неизвестным творцом, называется “Трое рыцарей за столом с крошками убитых пироженок”. Ещё одна Киллеровская шутка.

Сидели они и сидели, пока настенные часы тикали. Но так ничего в их головы не приходило: ни одна дельная мысль, ни одно предположение. Это так огорчало. Ведь сама ситуация была необычна: сильно озадачивала и не позволяла верить в её существование. Так какой в этом толк? Продолжать размышлять над этим? Дрим вот все последнее время думал лишь над этими вопросами. Ему, если честно, это было неинтересно, так, к тому же, ещё так много дел. Но кое-что все-таки держало его: причина такой одержимости брата за это. Он хотел в этом разобраться. Почему Найтмер так вспылил? Почему продолжал бесится? Почему это важно для него? Это все так сложно... Дрим вздохнул и прилег на локти, расположившись на столе. В сон потянуло, но не успел он прикрыть даже глаза, как кто-то коснулся плеч.

— Дрим, ты не видел мой шоколадный сок? — скелет обернулся и похлопав глазками, встретился с знакомым и любимым лицом. Кросс некоторое время стоял и смотрел на него, но потом отвернулся и пошел к мусорке у стены. — Может быть он где-то здесь?

— Кросс, не ройся в мусоре! — подорвался с места Дрим. — Руки потом...

— Нашел! — воскликнул радостно скелет, вытаскивая из пластикового контейнера коробочку из-под какого-то напитка. Он шустро встал с колен и прямо сияя подошел обратно к сборищу.

— Кросс, ты же не будешь пить... из этого? — недовольно скрестил руки на груди желтоглазый скелет.

— Аах... Там уже ничего нет — расстроенно выдохнул Кросс, обернувшись к остальным. — А, кстати, что вы тут делаете?

— К твоему сведению, помойная крыса... — шутливо начал Киллер.

— Какая крыса? — возмущенно стукнул ладонью о стол перед наглым скелетом Кросс.

— Так значит с “помойная” ты согласен? — не унимался тот, на что получил злой взгляд со стороны Найтмера:

— Кончайте тут... обзывательствами бросаться! Мешаете думать...

— А о чем вы думаете? — поинтересовался снова Кросс, садясь на стул.

— Просто тут у нас кое-что пропало... а то есть, перечисляю: 100 чокопаев, которые принес Найтмер, и черный запас шоколада Киллера — объяснил милому младший близнец, ласково пропев каждое слово.

— Хм... — задумался разноглазый. — А знаете? У меня произошло кое-что похожее.

— В каком смысле?

— Смотрите... — он поставил на стол пустую коробочку, на это Дрим немножко нахмурился, но потом расслабился, решив не показывать свое недовольство на грязь. — Я был занят своими делами, попутно употребляя мой сок. На минуту отвернулся и... хоба! Он пропал.

Теперь к их команде присоединился четвертый. Но даже с дополнительной силой ничего не выходило, а время шло. Что-что, а это остановить нельзя, как и выбраться из этой паутины проблемы. За окном виднелось уже пестрое оранжево-красное небо — вечереет. Представите себе, они потратили почти пол дня на это! Невообразимо! Так ещё пришли к ничему... Это худшие из всего. Все, кроме Найтмера, встали и решили пойти уже по домам. Дрим остановился, ожидая брата, который продолжал сидеть и испепелять деревянную поверхность пронзительным взглядом сосредоточенности.

— Найти, пошли домой, уже поздно. Ну чего тебе это? Оно уже произошло и все... — он коснулся плеч старшего, пытаясь достучаться до него и побудить бросить это.

— Есть идея! — Неожиданно Найтмер подскочил и воскликнул, привлекая к себе внимание всех. — Останемся здесь и устроим ловушку на воришку-сладкоежку!

Киллер и Кросс начали переглядываться, а потом ожидающе посмотрели на Дрима, стоящего позади Найтмера. Поймав их взгляды, тот вздохнул и жестом как бы показал, что выбора нет. Братик слишком увлекся, вот и все.

~~~

Ветер дует, слышно его завывание... Кто-то не закрыл окно или стены здесь такие тонкие? По правде говоря, в такое позднее время помещения в студии выглядят страшновато, а странный шорох и лунный синий свет создает атмосферу какого-то фильма ужасов или вампирской романтики. И все-таки зачем они это затеяли? А вдруг что-то плохое случится? Кросс не понимал всего этого, как и то, зачем он в это ввязался. Но делать нечего, лишь вдохи расслабляют.

— Но я предупреждаю! — кажется вся мрачность окружения никак не привлекала Киллера, или же он просто игнорировал настороженность других участников их задумки. — Это последняя шоколадка, что у меня есть, поэтому ты, Найтмер, должен будешь мне ещё одну...

— Да, да, да... — но чужая наглость совсем не задевала. Найтмер и так был занят, расставляя инвентарь для самодельной ловушки, а отвлекаться было не в его приоритетах.

— И коробку конфет за моральный ущерб! — скрестил руки на груди Киллер так, как будто он какая-то обиженная дама высшего общества. На это послышался лишь длинный выдох, а Найтмер, поднявшись и скрестив руки так же, как и другой скелет, закатил глаза, а потом вымолвил:

— Все, что прикажите, госпожа.

На такое обращение выше названная “Королева” встал в ступор и, покачавшись на ступнях взад вперед, отвернулся, скрывая стыдо-срамский румянец. Ох, какой же он бесстыжий! И Найтмер тоже дал жару: все ещё не догадывается насколько он иногда двусмысленно говорит! Но ничего, Киллер знает, что он сделает потом... А сейчас нужно утолить желание Кошмарчика по поимки неизвестного. Тот как раз уже закончил и подошел рассказывать план:

— Киллер положит туда приманку, а мы по очереди будем дежурить, поняли?

Получив согласие в виде кивков, Найтмер направился к выходу в коридор. На вопрос Киллера, куда тот идет, скелет махнул рукой, показывая, что не его любопытного носа дела. Фыркнув на это, Киллер вернулся к остальным и присоединился, присаживаясь за баррикадой из кресел.

Время шло долго, в пустоте комнаты тиканье часов раздавалось очень ярко и отчетливо, даже раздражало. Ничего совсем не происходило. Ничегошеньки! Киллер повернулся к своим напарникам и нахмурился. Те уже успели задремать, примостившись друг у друга под боками. Что за бездельники! Он вздохнул... Ведь верно: все это дело изначально было бессмысленным. Они просто не могут найти того, кто совершил все злодеяния. И ещё одна странная вещь... Найтмер так и не пришел. И куда же наш командир подевался? Разве это не было для него таким важным? Скелет поднялся с пола и потянулся, разминая кости рук.

Он так устал, а пока не вернется Найтмер уйти нет возможности: некрасиво как-то выйдет. Киллер глянул на ловушку и прикрыл рот, готовый зевнуть.

— Даже если никто не заявится, он будет должен мне ещё од...

Не успев даже вдохнуть, скелет вздрогнул и слегка поперхнулся. На мгновение ему показалось, что он видел чью-ту фигуру. Приведя себя в более-менее спокойствие, Киллер поспешил разбудить двух спящих “котят”.

— Аагх! Киллер, договорились же: ты дежуришь первым, а мы — потом! — недовольно ворчал Кросс, стараясь не слишком повышать тон, чтобы не напугать Дрима.

— Но это важно!

— Твои шутки не могут быть важными...

— Кросс, хватит... — чуть потирая правую глазницу и зевая, просипел Дрим. — Может это действительно важно. Что такое, Киллер?

— Мне кажется, что я кого-то видел.

— Если кажется, иди к окулисту — встрял Кросс, прищурившись.

— Но это правда! Мы здесь одни и никто больше не может быть, это нервирует. А ещё... — следующие слова скелет так пробубнил, что их невозможно было разобрать. — Найтмер куда-то ушел и так и не вернулся.

— Так, успокойтесь оба — попытался охладить ребят Дрим, а потом, расценочно осмотревшись, продолжил: — Давайте посмотрим, взял ли наш “незваный гость” сладкую наживку.

Кросс не хотел в это верить, но по ходу Киллер был прав, что в здании находится посторонний: шоколадки на столике не было. Ну и что же им делать дальше? Ведь, по всей видимости, они уже упустили “преступника”. Но была ещё одна загвоздка...

— Чего то братик все ещё не возвращается — тихо и печально проговорил скелет с желтыми глазами, которые под светом луны сверкнули золотистым оттенком.

— Я, кстати, тоже об этом думал... — развел руки и покачал головой Киллер.

— Так как он все это затеял, то будем выяснять дальнейшие действия лишь у него — изрек Кросс, облокотившись о стол. — Пойдемте его искать...

Согласившись с этой идеей, они вышли в коридор. Это был долгий и страшный путь. Здесь было намного темнее, чем в той комнате. Кажется слышен не только ветер, но и шорох и какой-то скрежет. Это начало напрягать не только Кросса, которому с самого начало было дискомфортно находится здесь, но и Дрима. Тот прижимался к другому скелету ещё крепче, и, даже не смотря на обстоятельства, у разноглазого это вызывало некие теплые ощущения внутри и слабый румянец на щеках.

Внезапный звон разбитого стекла заставил скелетов вздрогнуть и обратить на себя внимание. Они поспешили выяснить, что там происходит, и застыли, завернув за угол. Там была фигура, стоящая неподалеку от лежащих на полу осколков вазы. Она казалось знакомой, но... Кто же это может быть? Прищурившись, Киллер первым догадался:

— Найтмер!!! — из закрывающие окно шторы проклюнулись лучики голубоватого света, озаряющего половину вышеназванного скелета. — Что ты делаешь?

Пустоглазый скелет подошел ближе и коснулся чужого плеча. Найтмер вздрогнул, роняя что-то из рук, и медленно повернул голову, взглянув в лицо друга с таким видом, как будто только недавно проснулся. Это очень сильно удивило другого скелета, поэтому он наклонил голову в бок, ожидая ответов, но, так и не дождавшись ничего, обратил внимание на предмет, который лежал на полу. Киллер наклонился и взял это в руки. Присмотревшись, он смог определить, что это... как неудивительно, шоколадка! И не просто какая-нибудь, а та самая! Киллер был уверен. Но он никак не мог понять, что это может значить.

Дрим и Кросс тоже ничего не понимали. Они подошли вместе с Киллером, но все это время только молчали. Все находились в таком замешательстве, что даже не знали, что и сказать. Даже сам Найтмер был в шоке.

— Найти... — через некоторое время тихо вымолвил его брат, привлекая к себе внимание. — Так ты лунатик? Я раньше не замечал...

— Я... Я... — он метался взглядом по темному помещению и теребил фаланги пальцев. — Даже не знаю, что и сказать, ребята...

— Так может это ты все сделал? — подал голос Киллер, поднимаясь с пола и продолжая держать плитку сладости в руке. На его слова фиолетовоглазый скелет виновато опустил голову. Но, кажется, другому скелету этого было недостаточно, поэтому он решил перечислить все совершенные преступления: - Ты собственнолично съел все чокопаи, которые сам же и принес. Ты съел мой запас шоколада. Ты выпил сок Кросса. И самое страшное: ты обвинил в этом всех, даже собственного брата!

— Мне жаль! Действительно — воскликнул пристыженный и униженный до самого дна скелет. — Я хотел извинится перед Дримом, но! Сбился на тебя. Простите, я действительно не знаю, что на меня нашло!

— Ничего, братик — вмешался Дрим, успокаивающе обнимая того. — Я не злюсь. Наверное... ты просто переутомился. И, возможно, от этого ты и лунатишь. Я же говорил: не перенапрягайся.

И вот: разгадка этой тайны пришла. Можно уже идти домой, но не тут то было! Была одна вещь, которая совсем не связывалась со всеми фактами...

— А все же, Киллер, ты в кое-чем не прав — задумчиво протянул Кросс, приложив палец к подбородку, пялился на носки своей обуви.

— Хм, и в чем же? — хмыкнул тот, упершись руками в бока.

— Может Найтмер и съел чокопаи и выпил мой сок, но он никак не мог взломать сейф, будучи в бессознательном состоянии. Что-то не складывается.

— Но кто же мо...

Неожиданно какое-то шуршание отвлекло Киллера, не дав закончить вопрос. Послышался скрежет и странный урчащий звук. Это привлекло всех остальных: повернувшись, они уставились в темноту, покрывающую другую половину комнаты. Что-то сверкнуло в глубине, а настораживающие звуки усилились. Скелеты шагнули назад, скопивш��сь в одну кучу и прижавшись к друг другу. Страшные огоньки напоминали глаза какого-то существа. Что же это может быть? Оно приближалось, заставляя их в страхе отступать ближе к повороту. Ещё чуть-чуть и можно будет узнать, что скрывалось в черной мгле. Последний клацающий шаг и...

— Мяу!

Компания завопила и помчалась прочь. Не оборачиваясь, они с позором ушли от опасности. А разве в этом была опасность? Это просто милый маленький котеночек. Может быть такая мрачная атмосфера позволила их фантазии разыграться? Никто не может знать наверняка. И неужели это и вправду конец?

— Эй, ребята? А что вы тут делали? — скелет в бежевом свитере, мило улыбаясь под лунным светом, поднимал белую кошку.

Это, конечно, был неожиданный поворот. Но разве это не мы должны задавать этот вопрос, Чино? Ведь они так и не узнают об этом. Так же, как и не узнают, что же их напугало в ту ночь. Это касается и того... Так кто же съел шоколад Киллера? Правда, в этой истории было много вопросов. И вы можете подумать, что узнали ответы на всех них, но нет. Это ошибочное предположение.

Это то, на что ответа нет. Так как эти все загадки должны оставаться неразгаданными. И только вы сами поймете, что истина, а что - ложь. Вы сами решаете, как ответить.

Продолжение следует...

#fanfic #writing #stupid trash and shit

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cower-before-power · 4 years

Text

Smoke

Summary: Yami and Charlotte share a late night moment

Pairing: Yami x Charlotte

TW: Smoking, implied sexual content

Link to A03 here

A/N: Hello and welcome to the first fic I wrote for Black Clover. YamiChar is my OTP and I love writing for them. They may be a little OOC but I like to think they’d become soft lil’beans for each other once love is confessed. Please enjoy, sweet potatoes :)

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The urge for a cigarette wakes him.

It’s not unusual for him to smoke a few times in the night, the need for nicotine breaking through even his most pleasant slumber. It irritates him on occasion, the inability to get through a night undisturbed. His ragamuffins would probably appreciate him in the mornings more after a full night spent in dreams. Though, he thinks, as he sits up and reaches for the pack sitting on his bedside table, reality is currently a lot better than any damn dream.

Reality is standing in front of the window, her silhouette illuminated by the wan moonlight shining through the grimy glass. If he was a romantic sap (which, on the very rare occasion, he just might be), he would say she looks like a goddess, like beauty incarnate come down from the Heavens to make men fall to their knees in awestruck worship. And then probably cut them all down where they kneel, he thinks with a smirk. She may be a goddess of beauty, but with her beauty comes unrepentant destruction. A rose covered in thorns, soft yet deadly, feminine yet with the power to strike you down and make you bleed.

He’s never been afraid of seeing his own blood.

“What’s on your mind, Prickly Queen?” He asks, bringing the now lit cigarette to his mouth.

“Nothing really,” she says, and the softness of her voice tugs lightly at his heartstrings. There once was a time he would not have dared to think he would hear it like this, quiet and laced with sleep. He treasures it. “I woke up for a drink of water, that’s all.”

She sets the cup in her hand down on the windowsill and turns towards the bed, wrinkling her nose slightly at the sight of smoke escaping from between chapped lips. “Must you do that in bed?”

He snorts. “My hideout, my rules.”

She scoffs, but the corners of her mouth tug up slightly. “I seem to recall saying something similar to you every time you spend the night in my bed, and I just get a face full of smoke as a response.”

He shrugs. “Why would I get up when I’m already comfy in bed? Take me as I am or leave me, Prickly Queen.”

(She’s always taken him for who he is. There’s few who have).

She tries to fight her smile but she’s failing. Her lips quirk up further. “Perhaps I should start up too, then. We can smoke in bed together.”

He laughs outright, the offending object swinging precariously from his lips. “Yeah right, the day I see you smoking is the day that no magic idiot remembers to restock the toilet paper.”

She gives up on her stern mouth, a full smile blooms across her face. After years of tight lipped glares and angry stares, it never fails to make his heart falter slightly.

“You got me,” she dances towards the bed, her blue nightgown swishing around her like a waterfall of silk. He reaches for her, hands settling on her hips as she climbs into his lap. Even after all these months he is still surprised by how unburdened and bold she is when it’s just the two of them. How free she can be with her feelings and affections. Of course, his tsun tsun princess still exists at times (especially with intense teasing from his end), but where would the fun be if she left?

“I’ll never take up such a filthy habit,” she continues, hands trailing up his bare chest. “Only a moronic meathead of a man would subject his lungs to such abuse.”

(Ah, the “man” insults. Now said with exasperated affection instead of scorn. He’ll take it.)

She plucks the near dead cigarette from his lips and tosses it onto the ashtray beside him. He opens his mouth to protest but the look she’s wearing silences him.

“Besides,” her eyes are growing dark, and her lips are bending into that smile that makes things below the belt twitch in excitement. “If I want to taste smoke, I’ve got a much more pleasant way of doing so.”

He anticipates her kiss and meets her halfway, a dance perfected over the months they’ve belonged to each other. There was a time when he never would have believed this possible, when he had bet his chips on secretly pining for the cold and sharp rose from a far. When he thought the idea of him brought her nothing but disdain. When both of them were stupid, scared, oblivious idiots.

(Good thing he was often a shit gambler.)

She tugs on his hair, impatient. He laughs into her mouth, shaking himself out of his thoughts. “You in a hurry?“

She tugs harder and his eyes roll back slightly. “Stop talking, idiot.”

He flips them so fast she squeals in surprise. “Hey, I’m the one who gives the orders around here.” He nips lightly at her throat, enjoying the way it makes her squirm beneath him.

“Is your mouth only good for cigarettes and talking nonsense?” She tries to say sternly, but his hands have already started wandering and it comes out rather breathy.

He grins a shit eating grin against her pounding pulse. “You know it isn’t.”

“Then hurry up before I throw the rest of those awful things in the trash.”

(An empty threat, but he’s nothing but a devout worshiper of his Prickly Queen. So he obeys.)

Some time later he lights another very unconfiscated cigarette and she half heartedly complains as she lounges against his chest, drowsy and sated. He just laughs, his own buzz mixing pleasantly with the tobacco and the feel of her.

“You love it,” he teases gently, fingers stroking languidly over her skin.

“I love you,” she yawns, and her eyes close. “Filthy habits and all.”

He presses a kiss to her head and squeezes her tight, his own declaration that he knows she understands. He takes another drag as she slowly begins to slip into the bliss of sleep.

“Goodnight, Yami,” she murmurs.

“Goodnight, Charlotte,” he blows the smoke into the air, and watches it lazily drift into the velvet night.

#yami x charlotte #yami sukehiro #charlotte roselei #yamichar #yami sukehiro imagine #yamichar fic #charlotte roselei imagine #black clover #black clover fic #black clover imagine #my writing #yami sukehiro fic #charlotte roselei fic

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sammysdewysensitiveeyes · 4 years

Note

“After all, who doesn’t need a friend who has dirt on everyone?”

(OOC: This is a rare time that I’m writing actual Marauders continuity instead of alt-Marauders continuity. Let’s say this takes place shortly after Kate’s resurrection but before Emma and Kate’s ridiculous beat-down of Shaw.)

“We’re not exactly friends, though, are we Shaw?” Pyro shifted uncomfortably in the fine leather arm-chair that Sebastian had insisted he occupy. He was vaguely aware that there was some kind of bad blood between Shaw and Emma Frost, who was technically his “boss,” he supposed. And why on earth would a Quiet Council member invite him for a private meeting? Either Shaw was trying to bang him (that was a “maybe”), or he had some kind of dirty work in mind, the only reason the mutants “on high” would talk to someone like him. Pyro’s guard was up automatically.

“No,” Sebastian admitted. “And I doubt we will ever be. But we can maintain a cordial relationship that might be....mutually beneficial.”

Pyro sighed. This was exactly the kind of weaselly beating-around-the-bush he expected from the high society types. Never willing to get their own hands dirty, never willing to even outright state aloud the atrocities that they set into action. He took a generous gulp of the whiskey, and decided that it wasn’t worth staying for however long it would take Shaw to indirectly suggest that he’d like Pyro to commit just a teeny little spot of arson.

“Let’s not muck about, Shaw. You obviously want something from me. What do you want?”

“I see you prefer to be direct. I can respect that. I don’t like to waste time, myself,” Sebastian nodded, apparently willing to ignore the rudeness. “You are in a unique position to bring me valuable information.”

“Am I?”

“Yes. You see, I have reason to fear that the White Queen is using the Hellfire Trading Company for her own selfish purposes. Trust me, I’ve worked with her for many years. The woman is a snake. Constantly playing games.”

“I didn’t know snakes played games. Unless you mean that one with the ladders.”

“Don’t be flip, Allerdyce, this is a serious situation, and a unique opportunity for you.” A bit of the charm had dropped out of Sebastian’s voice as he continued. “I know she has Kate wrapped around her finger, the poor naive child, even though Emma’s own manipulations led to the girl’s unfortunate death. And the others onboard are no match for Emma. Iceman is just as naive as Pryde, and Storm and Bishop are too noble and high-minded to be able to counter the White Queen’s treachery. But you. You don’t have the same ideals. You are a practical man. You understand that the world is a dark, vicious place. I need you to be my man inside the crew. Pass along information about the missions. For the sake of Krakoa, and your own crewmates. Together perhaps we can prevent any more....tragedies.”

Pyro wasn’t entirely sure he believed any of that. But he also couldn’t say he entirely trusted that Frost woman. Of course, she HAD carefully arranged a psychic trick to get Yellowjacket out of his body without harm, even though the resurrections meant that it wouldn’t have really mattered if that horrid bug-man had exploded him from the inside. Plus she’d let him burn those awful children for a sadly short time. That counted for something, in Pyro’s book.

“If I’m so worldly and cynical as you say, surely you can’t imagine I’ll just take your word for all of this,” Pyro grinned, leaning back and finishing the glass of whiskey. “Or that I’ll do anything ‘for the good of Krakoa.’ Even if I did believe you, you’re asking me to take on a dangerous job that’ll piss off not one, but three Council members if I’m caught. And I’m not keen to get kicked off that boat, which would be the very least they would do.”

“Of course I wouldn’t expect you to work for free,” Sebastian said, leaning forward to refill Pyro’s glass of whiskey. “I recognize the risk involved, and I will see you handsomely rewarded. Surely you can see the resources I have available.” Shaw gestured at the impressive drawing room, just a small section of the luxurious Blackstone Keep. “And that’s just wealth. I have connections, political power. The question is, Pyro - what do you want for yourself?”

That was.....a damn good question, actually. Since coming out of the cocoon with the Brotherhood disassembled, Mystique acting distant, Blob playing bartender, Phantazia MIA and Avalanche bloody dead, he’d just been drifting with the wind. Or rather, drifting with the ocean currents.

“I’m sure it hasn’t escaped your notice that the rest of the crew occupies far more privileged positions than yourself. Bishop, a Captain. Emma, Kate and Storm on the Council. Iceman lacks political power in Krakoa, but has become something of a minor celebrity among the humans. They all live in luxury on this island, where all mutants matter but some clearly matter more than others. And meanwhile, I believe you are still spending most of your time in Krakoa at the Brotherhood compound.”

Pyro had a nice little hut in the area that they all shared. It was all he really needed, and very convenient for game nights. Which often turned into drinking-fighting-and-ripping-the-game-board-in-half nights, but it was all in good fun.

“Yeah, you really seem to care about economic disparity on the island with your giant castle and all that,”

“I’ll not apologize for the wealth that I’ve earned,” Sebastian said. “I’m offering you an opportunity to earn some of your own, with relatively easy labor. Be my eyes onboard the Marauder, and I’ll see to it that your life is vastly improved, however you see fit. As a reward for your service to Krakoa, of course.”

Pyro gulped down the entire glass of whiskey again, hoping that the jolt as it hit his chest might bring some clarity.

He wasn’t keen on betraying team-mates. Once he was on a team, he was there for that team. He’d only betrayed his team once, the last-minute “heroic” mistake of a dying man.

But he was also very keen on bumping Avalanche up the resurrection queue. Surely Sebastian could flex his authority to move things along, something even Mystique hadn’t bothered to do. He could imagine himself and Avalanche living in a castle like this, but with more fancy cars, big-screen TV’s and titty posters.

Assuming that Shaw was telling the truth about any of this. Assuming that Shaw was successful going up against three Council members at once. Assuming that Shaw would actually follow through on his promises and not immediately throw Pyro under the bus. It was something the powerful mutants tended to do with lackeys. Pyro had many years experience as a lackey to back that up.

In the end, Pyro supposed it came down to this - who did he trust? The corrupt businessman who might generously reward his service? Or the squeaky-clean X-types who might kick him off the boat or even into the pit if he got a little too enthusiastic with his fire?

Who would have his back, when it came down to it?

Pyro made his decision, and poured himself more whiskey.

“Shaw, I think we can work something out. Let me tell you everything I know.”

____________________________________

20 minutes later, Sebastian Shaw had learned that Iceman was cheating on Christian Frost with Bishop, who was also carrying on a passionate affair with Storm, and that Kate had come back “wrong” in her resurrection, but was hiding her ill health from crew-mates while searching for a cure. Jumbo Carnation had been secretly captured by a human anti-mutant group and brainwashed into being a sleeper agent assassin, but had been subdued by Callisto who had taken him off for deprogramming in the Swiss Alps while also rekindling her love of fashion modelling. “Storm” had actually been replaced by her evil twin sister “Zalastorm” who stole her powers and appearance, while trapping the real Storm in the Negative zone. Christian Frost was somehow pregnant. And Emma was being haunted by five identical psychic ghosts that represented the loss of her childhood innocence.

It was, quite possibly, the most obvious steaming pile of bullshit Shaw had ever heard. Like something out of a dreadful daytime soap opera. Downright insulting.

“You know, you could have just said ‘no,’ Allerdyce. There was no need to waste both of our time.”

“It hasn’t been a waste of my time,” Pyro said cheerfully, drinking again. “I’ve been having great fun.” Sebastian reached out and snatched the glass away. Whiskey was for people who were useful, not obnoxious “guests” now overstaying their welcome.

“You’ve thrown away a tremendous opportunity for the sake of what? A cheap joke? You really are as stupid as everyone says you are.”

“No, I’m not,” Pyro said, suddenly straightening up with a serious expression. “I know who really has my back. Those X-Men might be self-righteous pricks, but they’ve looked out for me since I came aboard. They treated me like a team-mate. I doubt you’d do the same.”

“I would have treated you with the respect that you earned,” Sebastian said honestly. “Which, at the moment, is less than nothing. Get out.”

“Suits me fine,” Pyro said. He snatched up the whiskey and took a long chug directly from the bottle, winking at Sebastian as he did so. Sebastian yanked the bottle back. Not because it was worth anything now, but because he wasn’t going to give Allerdyce the satisfaction of walking away with it. He grabbed the Australian mutant by the collar, dragged him to a window, and tossed him down into the turbulent waters of the bay, taking some small satisfaction in the splash. Pyro could probably swim to the shore. Probably.

He spun and tossed the whiskey into the fireplace, flames flaring up as it shattered. A 25 year-old bottle of Chivas Regal, $425. Thank God he hadn’t wasted any of the good whiskey on trash like Allerdyce.

Sebastian needed another plan. Pyro might run and tattle. Emma had made it clear that she wanted his head. And Kate had seemed smugly hostile at her resurrection party. After some thought, he sent out a summons to his worthless son, and the slightly less worthless Fenris. A storm was obviously coming, and Shaw would be a fool to sit alone in his castle unprepared. And anyone who knew Sebastian - who knew him and truly understood his character - would know that he was no fool.

(OOC again: I’m afraid this might have leaned too far in the direction of Pyro making a fool of Shaw, which really wasn’t my intention, especially after that last Marauders issue. Instead, this was meant to be ‘Sebastian makes an offer, and Pyro acts like his obnoxious asshole self.’ Also, I stole the joke about Sebastian thinking of really expensive alcohol as something that can be ‘thrown away’ on someone like Pyro directly from your own excellent writing.)

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dreamcatcherfication · 4 years

Text

Three’s a Crowd

I hope this fic isn’t absolute trash after the short break from writing I took. In the span of three days I completely forgot how to write and it shows.

But anyway, hello everyone! Anon requested Jane getting jealous because of Aragon being maternal towards Kat, and I loved that prompt. I’m not sure I did it justice, but we’re certainly trying. I really hope this fic is in any sense coherent. Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, I forgot how to write and my english is not good now.

And also - I DO NOT CONDONE ANY OF THIS BEHAVIOR! A lot of what happens in this fic includes toxic mindsets and sometimes toxic behavior, and I do not support that in any way. I wanted to do my best to represent how toxic mindsets can affect a person, and how hard it can be to get out of them. That’s why Jane might seem a little OOC, but I did my best to balance everything out.

Writing Masterpost

If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!

Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts

Trigger Warnings: Toxic behavior, toxic mindsets

Jane Seymour didn’t like being busy. Of course she liked to have things to do so she wasn’t wasting time, but being overburdened with work stressed her out far more than she liked. For the past week Jane had been overwhelmed with learning new choreography for the show, and the costume changes, as well as some of her lines being workshopped. It took all of her attention, and Jane started to notice how much less time she was spending with the queens.

There was one particular change in dynamics that Jane was starting to notice. Ever since the queens had grown comfortable with each other, Kat and Jane were almost always by each other’s side. It made sense, with Jane longing for someone to act maternal towards, and Kat lacking any strong maternal figure in her life. The two of them clicked, forming a bond that they both so desperately needed.

But now, Kat was hardly ever around Jane. She wasn’t avoiding Jane, that much was clear, but the teen always seemed busy with someone else. Namely, Catherine of Aragon. It irked Jane to see the two of them so happy together. Internally, she kept telling herself she held no ill will towards Catherine, but she couldn’t help the small seed of rage that festered in her heart every time she saw the two queens together.

Just yesterday, Jane had asked Kat if she wanted to read together. “Sorry Jane, I’m going to the movies with Aragon. She got us these great seats and it’s one of those new, high tech theatres. She’s so cool,” Kat had gushed on.

Jane had to keep repeating that Aragon wasn’t being mean and was perfectly capable and welcome to spend time with Kat. However, in the back of Jane’s mind, she kept thinking Catherine unfit to spend time with Kat. “It’s a toxic mindset,” Jane kept telling herself, trying to push it away.

She started out small, doing little things to regain Kat’s attention. Late at night, Jane had gone to the store to buy a giant box of guylian’s chocolates, Kat’s favorite. The next morning, she left them on the kitchen counter with the note, For Kat, the ten amongst these threes. From Jane.

When Kat walked down the stairs and into the kitchen, Jane held her breath in anticipation. Kat’s eyes drifted over to the chocolates as she frowned in confusion. She made her way over to the box and read the note. Eyes lighting up, Kat turned to Jane with an open mouth. “For me?” she gasped.

Nodding her head, Jane tried to conceal the smile growing on her lips. “Just for you Kat.”

“Oh thank you so much!” Kat hugged Jane tightly to her chest. “Can I have some now?”

Pretending to look around like she was keeping a secret, Jane put a finger to her lips. “Only if you don’t tell the others.”

Kat laughed and waved Jane off. “As if. These are all mine. Thank you Jane, I love you!”

For the first time in a week, Jane’s heart unclenched and she relaxed. Kat still loved her, that was good. That was very good.

The next day, Jane woke up bright and early so that she could be ready to greet Kat when she came down for breakfast. Behold her surprise when Kat was already up and about, fully dressed and wide awake. “Kat, why are you up so early?” Jane asked, still fighting back slight drowsiness. “It’s only 6:30.”

Pulling on a jacket, Kat shrugged. “Aragon’s taking me to this moving carnival that’s set up downtown. She heard about it through Maria and she wanted to take me.”

Like she heard her name, Aragon appeared from the kitchen. She had paper bags filled with food that she was packing into a travel bag. “That’s right, Kat,” she rubbed the girl’s shoulder. “Maria and the other ladies went yesterday and they loved it, so I thought I’d take Kat out for the day.”

“Oh,” Jane’s heart broke a little bit. “That’s nice.”

Aragon flashed her a grin and led Kat to the door. “We’ll be back for dinner Jane, don’t worry.”

Kat waved as they left the room. “Yeah, we’ll tell you all about it!”

The door shut on Jane, her hand half raised in a pitiful goodbye wave. “Bye,” she whispered, her shoulders slouching. She should’ve known it wouldn’t last. Kat wasn’t bound to her, she had her own relationships. That didn’t mean it hurt any less to see her bounding off with Aragon. Was she being replaced? Jane questioned. Had Kat found someone better when Jane wasn’t around and realized she didn’t want her?

Sensibility told Jane it was only insecurity, but she still couldn’t shake it off. If Kat only wanted to spend time with Aragon, how would Jane cope? Would she lose the bond she so desperately tried to build with Kat in the first place?

Setting her face, Jane vowed that she wouldn’t let Aragon destroy her and Kat’s bond. They had something none of the other queens had, and Jane wasn’t about to let that go. The battle was on.

“Hey, Kat,” Jane approached the girl a couple days later.

The teen was on her phone, scrolling through pictures she and Aragon had taken at the carnival. “Hmm?” Kat glanced up, her face brightening when she saw Jane. “Hi Jane.” Before Jane could start talking, Kat cut her off and shoved the phone in her face. “Look at this video I took from the carnival. This guy eats fire and then breaths it out. Isn’t it cool,” she explained.

Watching the video silently, Jane wasn’t paying attention to the guy eating fire. She was listening to the faint dialogue between Kat and Aragon from behind the camera. “How does he do that?” she heard Kat ask.

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Aragon replied lightly, “and it’s more fun to watch and be amazed.”

Judging by Kat’s gasp, she had agreed. “It would be so cool to be able to do that.”

The camera shook slightly as Aragon came into frame, her eyes twinkling. “Don’t go hurting yourself trying to swallow fire, Kitty, this guy’s a professional.”

Kat’s pout was practically visible through her voice. “Do you really think I would hurt myself trying to eat fire?”

Shrugging goodnaturedly, Aragon leaned back out of frame. “I think you listen to your cousin too much sometimes. I’m not saying that I don’t trust you, but I am saying it’s not unlike you and Anne to try and eat fire because it looks cool.”

The video ended along with Jane’s good mood. How could Kat be so enraptured by Aragon? She and Jane had those conversations millions of times, why would she be having it with Aragon now? “Forget about that,” Jane tried to cover her annoyance with giddiness, “Because I’ve got something better planned.”

Raising her eyebrow in interest, Kat leaned forward. “What could be better than someone eating fire?”

“I dunno…” Jane teased Kat, “maybe the private animal shelter will suffice?”

Practically jumping to her feet, Kat dropped her phone, completely forgetting about the video. “No way! But you have to make appointments with them, Anna and I have been trying for months, how -”

Jane cut her off. “I pulled a couple strings, don’t worry about it. I know how much you wanted to see them, so it’s all worth it.”

“When do we get to go?” Kat prodded, bouncing on her feet.

Jane’s heart sped up when she saw the pure happiness in Kat’s eyes. “As soon as you’re ready.”

The animal shelter itself was huge, although there weren’t many people throughout. It was a private shelter and the owners required a considerable ‘donation’ for patrons to be allowed to come play with the animals even if they weren’t interested in buying. It was a lot of money Jane was required to pay, but she would do it a thousand times over in order to keep Kat happy.

Kat was fawning over the dogs as Jane stood behind her. There was a small, fluffy white dog that kept jumping into Kat’s lap and attacking her with its tongue. A bunch of other dogs swarmed her feet, causing Kat to giggle. Restraining herself from sneezing, Jane couldn’t help the swell of accomplishment in her chest. Kat loved it, and that’s what mattered.

The fur that was gathering around Jane irritated her skin, turning it red, but she ignored her discomfort. Jane didn’t care about her allergy to dogs and to fur, and she would continue to hide it from Kat. The teen was so happy with Jane, she wouldn’t ruin it. “Jane,” Kat called her attention. “Isn’t she so cute,” Kat held up the white dog to Jane, prompting her to pet it. Carefully stroking the dog’s fur, Jane prayed that a sneezing fit wouldn’t overcome her.

“She’s lovely, dear,” Jane agreed, stepping away from the dog as soon as Kat was satisfied.

Setting the dog down, Kat pulled Jane into a hug. Melting into the teen’s embrace, Jane couldn’t help a sigh of relief. This was all she wanted. “Thank you Jane,” Kat murmured. “I love you.”

That’s all Jane needed to hear, once again. The only thing she wanted out of any of this. So Jane contented herself to watch as Kat sat back on the ground and returned her attention to the dogs.

By now, Jane was sure she had won. How could Aragon compete when Jane had taken Kat to an exclusive animal shelter to play with the dogs she loved so much? At this rate, all of Jane’s worries would be for naught and Kat would always love her. All of this would fade into a little bubble in the past and things would be back how they should be.

That was until Jane heard talking coming from Kat’s room. Immediately standing up, Jane went to investigate. Chances were it was only Anne talking with her cousin, but Jane still had to know if there was something she was missing. Opening Kat’s door, Jane carefully peeked in to see what was going on.

In the center of the room stood Aragon, a small crate of stuffed animals in her hands. Kat was standing in front of her, sorting through the stuffed animals with wide eyes. “There’s so many,” Kat glanced up at Aragon, “how much did this cost?”

“Money’s not important. You were telling me about how much you loved the dogs at the shelter Jane took you to, so I knew you’d like these too. Think of it as a way to have them with you all the time.” Aragon spoke softly, her hand carefully brushing some hair away from Kat’s face.

A pit grew in Jane’s stomach. That was something she did with Kat. Not something Aragon did, something Jane did. It was her special thing, why -

Jane had to cut herself off. She kept berating herself internally for getting so caught up with this. All the queens were close, it wasn’t against any rules for Aragon to care for Kat. Aragon wasn’t a bad person, Jane knew that. But she kept wanting to believe that she was better than Aragon, and that she should be the one giving Kat gifts. This… this wasn’t the status quo.

Tuning back in, Jane watched as Kat took the crate from Aragon’s arms and beamed as wide as her face would allow. “I love them Catherine, I love you.”

And that was the last straw for Jane.

The next day, Jane had a surprise for Kat. If this didn’t win her over for good, she didn’t know what would. Aragon and Kat had gone out together for lunch, and the other queens were off doing who-knows-what. Jane was prepared, and she would wait in front of the door for as long as it took for Kat to show up.

Silently, Jane stared at the door. She knew she shouldn’t be doing this, she knew it was wrong. But knowing you have a problem and being able to fix it are two different things. The only way she knew to get rid of this deep ache in her chest was to win. To win Kat’s affection, to win her attention, and to win her love. This girl was like her daughter, and she wasn’t going to let Aragon take that from her.

The door opened, bringing with it lively conversation. “Nando’s never fails,” Aragon laughed, herding Kat into the room. “But you shouldn’t order so much if you aren’t going to eat it.”

“Oh come on,” Kat rolled her eyes, “how else are we going to get leftovers for days? I’ve picked up on a life hack or two, you know.” Kat stopped speaking when she noticed Jane watching her. “Hey Jane,” she waved. Aragon and Kat stood in confusion at Jane’s still figure.

“Is everything alright?” Aragon was slightly put off by the other queen’s iciness.

“Yes, just fine,” Jane replied. “I have something for you Kat.”

Warily, Kat approached Jane and sat down next to her. There was something clearly wrong with Jane, and Kat was quite aware of it. “What is it?” she asked.

Reaching under her legs, Jane pulled out a small cage. She opened it, and out popped the small white dog Kat had been playing with at the shelter. Kat and Aragon gasped, both surprised at the furry creature’s appearance. “Jane... I…” Kat was unsure what to say.

“I got her for you, I know how much you loved playing with her,” Jane encouraged Kat to take the dog. Nervously, Kat obliged, picking up the animal.

Aragon frowned and made her way over to Jane. “It’s a sweet gesture and all, but Jane, you know we don’t have any way to support a dog right? We’re going to have to return her.”

“Yeah, and as much as I love her, wasn’t she already adopted by another family?” Kat recalled.

Batting off the concern, Jane inched away from the dog, her skin already turning red. “Nothing a little payment couldn’t fix. Besides, you liked her, so it was worth it.”

Still, Aragon was unconvinced. “Jane, just because Kat likes the dog doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to buy it.”

Standing up, Jane snarled, “Just because Kat likes animals doesn’t mean you have to buy her a crate full of them.” She then recoiled, realizing what her voice sounded like. “I - I.”

“Stop it!” Kat set the dog down and stepped away from Jane and Aragon. “Why are you fighting?”

“We’re not fighting,” Aragon assured Kat, taking a step towards her.

Scoffing, Kat moved away from them. “Maybe it doesn’t seem like it, but I’ve noticed. As soon as one of you does something nice, the other has to one up them. I don’t need all these gifts.”

“But you want them,” Jane added hopefully.

Shaking her head, Kat crossed her arms. “I want to spend time with you. Both of you. Together, if that’s even possible. You two have been at odds for the past week and I’m sick of it. I’ve tried to ignore it and enjoy the good things, but I can’t anymore. Why is it so hard to accept that I want to spend time with both of you?”

“Because I was here first?” Jane offered. “You’ve always wanted to spend time with me, Kat.”

Aragon tried to put herself in front of Jane. “Because I’m here when she isn't. Why keep going back to Jane when I’m always here for you.”

Biting her lip, Kat couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “Do you two even listen to yourselves? This is so stupid. I don’t want you fighting over me.” Moving to round the couch and make a clean getaway to the stairs, Kat shot the two of them a disappointed glare. “I can’t spend time with either of you, not like this.”

“Kat!” Jane called her before the girl could disappear. “Aren’t you supposed to say you love me?” It was something she had become so used to hearing Kat say to her at the end of every conversation.

Shaking her head once more, Kat turned away. “I’m not sure I can say that truthfully right now.” Then she was gone, the closing over her bedroom door echoing throughout the house a moment later.

Jane turned to Aragon and they both glared at each other. “You’ve been doing it too, huh,” Jane broached, her voice defensive.

“I’ve only been trying to make sure she knows I care about her,” Aragon argued, crossing her arms.

“No,” Jane accused, “You’ve been using her to satisfy your own need to be a mother.”

“Well you’ve been doing it for longer than I have.”

Clicking her tongue, Jane sat down on the couch next to the dog. “Maybe I have. But I can’t stop. It’s the best feeling in the world, like a - like a -”

“Like a drug,” Aragon filled in. “I know.” She gave up and sat next to Jane. “You know what it’s like when Kat smiles at you better than anyone. And once she started looking at me that way…”

“You couldn’t let it go,” Jane added on. “I know,” she swallowed, “I know you aren’t a bad influence. I’m sorry I’ve been treating you like one. I don’t know how to get used to Kat seeing someone else the same way she sees me. Kat’s like my daughter.”

Aragon nodded, leaving the two queens in silence. “It might be a little weird at first,” Aragon broke the quiet air, “But we could try, maybe, spending time with Kat together? Like she said, it doesn’t have to be one or the other.”

Some defiant part of Jane still wanted to resist. She wanted to be the only one, she wanted things to be the way they were before Aragon entered the picture. But for once, Jane took a step towards fixing her mindset. “Let’s do it. If it’ll make things better, then let’s do it.”

In a moment of awkwardness, the two queens stared at each other, unsure of what to do next. Aragon stuck out her hand, hoping for Jane to seal the deal. Jane took the hand and the two of them shook on their agreement.

---------------------------------------------

Tag List:

@radcowboyalmondtree @boleynhowards @annabanana2401 @babeebobo @dont-lose-your-queerhead @everything-insanity @mindless-pidgeon @i-wanna-dance-and-sing-six @thedemidisaster @its-totes-gods-will @thatbolxyngirl @thenameisnoone @sixqueendom

#six the musical fanfiction #six the musical fanfic #six the musical fic #six fanfiction #six fanfic #sixfic #jane seymour #katherine howard #catherine of aragon #tw: toxic mindsets #tw:toxic behavior #i tried to do this as respectfully and accurately as possible #i don't know how well it turned out #hopefully not super terrible #i just realized how much i hate resolving things #i always keep my endings open ended #which probably annoys the hell out of you guys #but that's my thing so #i guess you'll have to roll with it

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beyond-far-horizons · 4 years

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Seto Kaiba/Azureshipping - unexpected parent/parenting headcanon

beyond-far-horizons

i have a headcanon that rather than the obvious 'demand an abortion cos he can't deal with being a father/emotions' Seto would suddenly find he couldn't cope with the idea of losing the child and would want to keep it and in fact would be wide-eyed and bowled over by the experience of being a dad and spoil the child rotten in compensation for all the crap he was put through.

anzu-kaiba

@beyond-far-horizons Uh I'll accept that headcanon thank you very much

I was toying with an unexpected pregnancy scenario a while ago and realised as things developed in my head that Kaiba would very possibly act the complete opposite from the cliched uncaring jerk one would expect in this situation.

Far from this being OOC Seto has demonstrated a strong sense of loyalty and responsibility when it comes to the few things he cares about( see Kaiba, Mokuba, KaibaCorp and Kaiba Land respectively). Also a core part of his background is losing his parents esp mother young and being thrown out like trash by the rest of his relatives, culminating in living in an awful orphanage and forcing a monster to adopt him and his brother to insure Mokuba’s future. Kaiba Land is specifically designed as a playful respite for children esp orphans who can get in for free. So...

(Disclaimer - I fully support a woman’s choice with regards to her body/pregnancy, I’m just writing this from what I perceive to be Seto’s perspective.)

After an initial struggle feeling not up to parenthood, Seto can’t bear the thought of an abortion because it reminds him of being thrown away like trash by the rest of his family after his parents’ death.

He would reluctantly respect Téa’s right to her body but would heavily persuade her to keep the child, promising to support her in every aspect including her missed career.

Shocks Téa with how passionate he is on the subject - she didn’t know much of the history. This is part of what persuades her to keep it.

Also shocks her when he dryly reveals that yes actually ‘the great Seto Kaiba’ would be good at taking care of a baby because he helped raise one when he was just a kid, including helping his increasingly sick mother with nappy-changing because his dad was out working several jobs to support the family. Besides they’d have nannies. (Later he decides the nannies aren’t good enough and he does most of it himself.)

Téa sometimes catches him with an inexplicably tender and vulnerable expression on his face when he looks at her/her growing bump, esp at night when they are in bed.

Grows increasingly protective and paranoid about Téa as the pregnancy continues due to a) his latent trauma at what happened to his mother (HC - she eventually died from medical malpractice/long-term complications from Mokuba’s birth) b) unconsciously sees Téa and the baby as ‘his’ now and we all know he guards things that are ‘his’ like a dragon and its hoard.

Obsessively researches pregnancy and child development and ‘KaibaSplains’ pregnancy and its complications to every women in the room including Téa’s mother and the group of highly experienced midwives he’s hired to take care of Téa.

This leads to big fights between him and Téa who alternately finds his protectiveness endearing or downright stifling. He has to learn to back off. She may, after threatening to leave at one point after a huge fight, get him to reluctantly agree to therapy.

Designs whole suite next to their bedroom for the nursery which of course is blue and features ALOT of toy dragons.

Gives Téa lots of massages for the back pain. He is VERY good at massage. Is increasingly reluctant to have full sex because of the baby though. Very frustrating for a hormonal Téa who’s finding possessive yet vulnerable Seto extremely attractive.

Determines that as the baby grows they will have everything he and Mokuba didn’t get to have. It takes all of Téa’s sweetness and feistiness to stand up to his excesses and make sure the child doesn’t become a complete spoiled brat.

Insists on being in the birthing room against the midwives’ advice, stating firmly that he will not faint. He has more trouble than Téa during the whole process and yes towards the end he does faint. She never lets him live it down.

Will always be the one to get up in night to see if the baby is okay and will often get up anyway just to look at them and marvel quietly that he helped create something so perfect.

Designs increasingly incredible baby toys. Baby decides it loves the simple things though esp a toy Kuriboh from Yugi that reminds Seto of his Duelist Kingdom duel every . single . time.

Baby will have the most perfect blue eyes of course. I hc it is a girl and because GX’s Alexis looks a bit like Kaiba and is known as the Queen of Obelisk Blue, I’d call her Alexis.

Mokuba is the best cool uncle - ‘Uncle Mokie’. Joey also wants to be a cool uncle and how much he is allowed to be is directly linked to how much Seto has pissed Téa off and needs to make amends.

Pegasus trolls Seto by offering to handpaint a series of exclusive powerful cards just for the baby and the baby shower. Kaiba struggles because he wants the cards but doesn’t want Pegasus anywhere near his kid. He counters by creating a line of ‘teach your toddler Duel Monsters’ which becomes the nursery/kindergarden version of Duel Academy.

Seto is hands down the father in law from hell. No-one is going to so much as look at his precious girl the wrong way. He will not only vet dates in more detail than the military, he will design Greek legend level of tests for them to prove they are worthy. Then he will still decide they are not. Girl’s going to have major fights with him on that score and will likely date inappropriate partners in rebellion. Bonus points if its the kid of Joey and Mai or a child of Yugi’s.

#seto kaiba #azureshipping #tea gardner #anzu mazaki #yugioh #My writing #headcanon #tw abortion #tw parental death #pregnancy #mokuba kaiba #joey wheeler #yugi mutou #maximillion pegasus #anzu kaiba #okay soo that went overboard!

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actual-ongoing-dumpster-fire · 4 years

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Fandom RP 1x1 Search

As the title says, I’m looking for 1x1 roleplays! I know that dates and such can be weird for tumblr (especially on mobile) so if this ad is up here, then I’m still looking :)

What I’m looking for:

Third person, past-tense paragraph form. I don’t have a hard requirement for length besides no constant one-liners. I’m burnt-out on fast-paced, back-and-forth multiple times a day RPs at the moment, so I’d like for posts to be more than a paragraph. I’d like to write a bit more and fast-paced burns me out (and my partners too, I feel) fast.

OC/Canon fandom pairings. My OCs are female. I can and do double, just ask me which character you want for your pairing. For your pairing, it can be anything you’d like, whether it’s two canons, two ocs, canon/OC or a het or slash pairing. I’m queer friendly (and bi as fuck aye lmao)

Communication! I can be ditch-friendly to a certain extent because I get it, life happens. I also won’t spam you for a reply. But if you’re getting bored with the story or want a new pairing, for example, definitely feel free to bring it up! RP is something both people enjoy and that’s what I want my RPs to be, I don’t want them to be a chore for anyone. Along with that, I want the plot to be something we’ve both crafted!

Romance, angst, hurt/comfort, dark themes and some smut (but I prefer more plot than smut usually). Of course, if you have triggers, limits and things you just plain don’t want to write about, do let me know!

Someone who can plot with me and help move the plot along as we go. I don’t want to be the sole driver behind the story and it’s pointless to roleplay if your partner doesn’t manage to actually make anything happen in their posts, know what I mean jellybean?

People 18+. Absolutely nobody under 18, please. I’m 27 and don’t want to go to jail because of RP lmao.

RP over Discord or email. I like to keep OOC chat and the RP seperate and I don’t have the patience to get the hang of RP using tumblr blogs.

My limits and other things I don’t want:

“I only write females/submissives/can’t write canons” type partners. Listen y’all, I am total OC/canon trash but I also genuinely enjoy the challenge that writing canon characters brings me and I’m looking for my partners to have the same mindset. Writing, to me, is about broadening your horizons.

On that same note, I don’t want fake doubling. If you only write canons because you want to write out romance with your crush, but you don’t actually enjoy writing them, don’t bother messaging me please. I don’t want a half-assed canon paired with my OC and all the attention focused on my partners pairing and they write next to nothing interesting for their canon and twice as much for their OC. No thank you do not want.

Play with things that belong in the toilet or anything involving diapers.

Incest or other sexual scenes involving characters who aren’t adults.

Bestiality.

Rape, abuse or torture scenes. Backstories are fine but I’m not going to write the scenes out.

Your limits.

Partners under the age of 18.

Only getting “hey wanna RP?” Please know what you want before messaging me lmao, I don’t want to waterboard your interests out of you.

Fandoms and Characters I want:

My OCs are female. Your pairing can be anything if you double.

(A * means I’m craving, more * means more craving lol)

Star Trek (AOS, TOS, Disco, TNG, SNW)*

Spock***

Kirk

Bones*

Riker**

Troi

Number One/Una Chin-Riley****

Pike (AOS or Disco)*

The Boys*

Billy Butcher*

Queen Maeve

Starlight

NCIS*

Gibbs***

DiNozzo

Abby

McGee

COD MWII

Ghost*****

Soap

Price

Valeria

So if any of this interests you, feel free to hit me up on here :) When you do send me a message, please lemme know your age and your limits off the bat so I know you’ve actually read this! If you don’t I’ll assume you haven’t read any of this and won’t respond.

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blackbirdduelist · 4 years

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Rules! Hopfully the read more works xD

[[MORE]]

-Rules-

First off I'm mobile only user. I do not have desktop access and its seems like that's gonna be the case for the foreseeable future.

Also my grammar is trash and I'm the typo queen. Apologies in advanced. I'm working on it!

With that being said earlier I'm still learning. I would love to have clean trimmed posts and all that but I am finding it difficult to do so on my phone. I cannot copy past the entire response and cannot do a small link.

I rely on my partner to do the trimming to keep our stuff looking nice.

Also with mobile I cannot always access your links. Please bear with me if I ask you to send it to me. I try to be mindful and look at them. If I break a rule or upset you please communicate. I'm only human and cannot remember every single thing I've read, all of them start to blend together.

I have no triggers that I'm aware of. However this blog is NSFW so triggering posts of all types may be present. I am terrible at tagging and am trying to work on that. However I understand for your own sanity I'd you cannot follow because of that.If our muses don't interact well-- for whatever the reason my be, like our writing styles or ideas don't click, that's fine! Still send in asks or anons unless we decide it's best to not interact. I understand that my muse will not have a friendship with everyone and that's fine. We can crack post or have dash shenanigans if you'd like.

I write in short to long paragraphs. One liners are fun but if that's all you offer in return, understand I will be highly put off.

I am always around, I get everyone else is low activity or you get caught up on a theme you enjoy in the moment or with other muses. But if I've sent you things and responses to thread and hear nothing back I will just silently back off. I can take a hint if you are too shy to let me know you are not interested.

I'm not mutual exclusive or selective. I want to get everyone a shot :D

However for OC's please DM me first so we can chat ooc about it. I have a hard time interacting with people in real life, if you throw an OC at me I'll be lost.

If our muses work great! I'm open to all types of ships. Platonic, friends, romantic, hate. Let's give it a go. Just talk to me first so I know that a your aim. I like the idea of seeing them get to know one another first and for any sort of romance the muns have to communicate.

Crow is open to flings and being flirted with however, doesn't mean they are shipped. I will not tag as an official ship unless we have agreed on it.

Asks are open for responses! If you wanna thread it and give it a go let's do it! I'm not picky, reblog the ask or move to a new post, whatever works for you.

If it has been more than a few days without response I may not be into it as I reply fairly quick. Or forgotten, feel free to nudge me about it.

Over all just communicate with me and be respectful I guess? If you aren't sure I'm down for something just ask! Or if you just wanna chat OOC absolutely hit me up. I can shut down pretty easily sometimes for the smallest of reasons I apologize for this too. It's really frustrating for me and I'm trying to be better about not being so awkard with it.

I do have discord that I'm figuring our how to use. That will be mutuals only please.

Don't be shy to ask :D

I'm here for a good time. Let's do a thing!

#blog rules #rules #mobile rules #same as my others xP

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beardedkaiba · 4 years

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《Rules》

[[MORE]]

First off I'm mobile only user. I do not have desktop access and its seems like that's gonna be the case for the foreseeable future.

Also my grammar is trash and I'm the typo queen. Apologies in advanced. I'm working on it!

I rely on my partner to do the trimming to keep our stuff looking nice.

I write in short to long paragraphs. One liners are fun but if that's all you offer in return, understand I will be highly put off.

I am always around, I get everyone else is low activity or you get caught up on a theme you enjoy in the moment or with other muses. But if I've sent you things and responses to thread and hear nothing back I will just silently back off. I can't take a hint if you are too shy to let me know you are not interested.

I'm not mutual exclusive or selective. I want to get everyone a shot :D

However for OC's please DM me first so we can chat ooc about it. I have a hard time interacting with people in real life, if you throw an OC at me I'll be lost.

Seto is open to flings and being flirted with however, doesn't mean they are shipped. I will not tag as an official ship unless we have agreed on it.

Asks are open for responses! If you wanna thread it and give it a go let's do it! I'm not picky, reblog the ask or move to a new post, whatever works for you.

If it has been more than a few days without response I may not be into it as I reply fairly quick. Or forgotten, feel free to nudge me about it.

Over all just communicate with me and be respectful I guess? If you aren't sure I'm down for something just ask! Or if you just wanna chat OOC absolutely hit me up.

I do have discord that I'm figuring our how to use. That will be mutuals only please.

Don't be shy to ask :D

I'm here for a good time. Let's do a thing!

#《•RULES•》#《•Mobile Rules•》#《•Seto: I am not who you believe me to be•》#rules #mobile rules

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otselyal-blog · 5 years

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classes start tomorrow and iM FREAKING OUT, i’ll be more mia than intended for the next week because i’m just a nervous wreck. but once things even out i’ll get my shit fully together i hope lmao

#× ↠ ❛ i’ll be your trash queen ❜ ↠ ( ooc ) ×

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kinetic-elaboration · 4 years

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May 21: The 100 2x11 Coup De Grace

It’s late, my computer’s more tired than I am (and hardcore hates me and very well may decide to eat this entire post who even knows), and this is probably a bad idea but I’m gonna do it anyway.

Or at least start.

Another episode, or partial episode, of The 100.

This opening torture sequence makes me so uncomfortable. Which like I get is the point but tbh I’m just not into ‘look how unflinching we are at the realities of Bad Stuff.’ Especially when my tired computer is skipping and the sequence becomes, like...trippy. Trippier.

This is probably a super bad idea because my computer literally cannot handle video lol. I am going to restart it.

It’s actually kind of nuts that Monty’s been missing for 2 days and Harper even longer and Jasper and Maya are like ‘this is weird and upsetting but I guess we’ll find them somewhere!!’ Well, Maya more than Jasper. Mount Weather isn’t THAT big.

“You have to look like nothing’s wrong. Like everything’s okay” is so sad. I think it’s situations like that that make S2 my favorite, just b/c I’m a sucker for scenarios of enclosed tension. Like, forget war and blah blah blah, I want this, like... secretive, spying, being spied upon, uncertainty. That’s the real horror in a satisfying way.

Gosh his haircut is awful though.

When does Clarke learn to ride a horse?

I have literally no idea what’s happening bc I rewatch these eps so infrequently.

Clarke just got “yes ma’amed.” I find that semi-hilarious, not because she’s 18 but because you knew Grounders used words like “ma’am.”

I love Clarke’s single-mindedness. “We can’t stop for water. We can’t stop for anything. We’re on a mission. And Bellamy might have called!” AWWNH!Clarke is so OOC lol but she has a different background okay?

I’m not really in the mood to trust Abby about anything. Does she... actually make good decisions? I feel like you’d have to track her through all of the seasons but I am inclined to say...perhaps......not.

So the Mountain Men tried to assassinate Clarke and Lexa. Completely forgot about that.

The introduction of Echo. I just... I just have no opinions on her, I guess. Literally my only opinion is that she should have been the Ice Queen and, not being the Ice Queen, she’s just not interesting to me. I will say, she couldn’t have been in Mount Weather long if she knew who the Sky People are, as they’ve only been on the ground about a month. But also...why does she hate them? They were only fighting with Trikru, and Azgeda territory isn’t even, like, in the vicinity.

I love Dante but he has some major balls looking Jasper in the face and saying he doesn’t know where his friends are. I mean, he doesn’t, because Cage stole them, but how do you just MISPLACE people in a 600,000 square foot bunker? Where COULD they go?

I’m sure I’ve said this before but as someone who went to a high school with a uniform I find it HIGHLY unrealistic that all these teenage boys tuck in their shirts and keep them tucked in all the time without exceptions.

Jasper being protective of Monty <3<3<3.

So it was MW that told them there were no Ark survivors. Did I know that? Did I forget that? Not that it matters as my Clarke/Maya fic is done lol.

Dante is the most Hilarious and Wonderful of all of the attempted father figures on this show I said what I said--they’re all terrible but at least he bring the Weird Father Figure energy to 11. I’ll lie to you but it’s to protect you, call you son (always weird), super good at self-defense--ah-ha! sword at at your neck!

“This is not a toy.” If the sword is in MW it’s probably Important and Famous.

IMO and I completely stand by this assessment, it’s harder for Jasper to be brave than it is for other people, and he was really brave, and it worked, and I’m proud of him.

I realize this is also a problem with the literal world but we actually do know that torture isn’t effective so Indra being all upset that she’s not allowed to torture Emerson is just so....exhausting to me. Like Clarke isn’t suggesting not torturing him bc she loves the high ground and must walk it at all times. She’s suggesting not torturing him bc the last time she tortured someone, she got 0 good information. And even though neither of them know it, it was the shit information garnered from torture that led Finn to TonDC! Also if they had let Emerson die, the Grounder would have also still died--it’s not that they chose to use resources on one and not the other. They had two different types of wounds. I mean I guess if they’d brought them in faster without patching up Emerson in the field? That’s probably what she meant. However the Grounder Death Cult and their complete willingness to declare their fight over at the merest papercut makes me again less sympathetic to this point of view.

I’d literally already forgotten that someone tried to assassinate Clarke like an hour earlier. Abby doesn’t need to be concerned about that, lol, Clarke’s used to it!

Okay first I did have a longstanding headcanon that Echo had a crush on Bellamy going way back--I mean that’s practically canon, yeah?--but now I’m super convinced because in their second scene together, he sacrifices himself for her using information she gave him (that MW takes the loud/strong looking ones), even though she greeted him by spitting in his face, and actually, that was very heroic and selfless of him. I’d fall in love too.

Second, I thought she had no tattoos because she’s a spy or w/e but I CLEARLY see tattoos on her legs. And they are not white either.

I don’t think I ever realized that Maya found Bellamy because she was in the infirmary/harvest chamber looking for Harper and Monty. I do not have a good memory for each scene leading into the next. AND she think she’s found them when she sees how fast the random patient’s treatment is working, because that has to be a Sky Person and she would never guess Bellamy.

They really do just talk about their little torture machine casually all the time. “I need to go over the treatment schedule so I know how many cages to clear.”

Hey so like how did Maya get in if she’s not cleared for this facility?

What a wonderful time to remember yet again that if Bellamy knows who Maya is from her reference to Jasper, Clarke, who saw Maya and Jasper flirt like ONE TIME, must have told him about them, which is cute and funny all at once.

Maya: “I wanted to see what was so special about him, but... he’s dead.” Bellamy: Ah yes! I’m dead! * immediately closes his eyes * Why am I laughing so hard at this?

Good thing they take dead bodies down slowly instead of just thunking them on their heads.

Maya, Bellamy, and Echo v. Lovejoy is a pretty satisfying fight. Also, what did Clarke just say about Emerson talking b/c they saved his life? Echo helps Bellamy because he saved her life. Sometimes you get more flies with honey.

I tend to forget that Bellamy literally strangled this guy with his bare hands. Like it was self-defense to some degree, in that this had to be a fight to the death, but it was also just pure fucking rage. Like he said, he (like Clarke for a while) wants to kill everyone in the Mountain.

And then he thanks Echo and asks Maya if she’s all right. A True Catch. Tbh I could see something forming out of Echo and Bellamy here, but not after some of the later twists and turns in the later narrative.

Honesty, I’ve always loved Maya but... let’s just appreciate her, shall we? That was horrific, seeing someone she knew killed in front of her--and helping, because she knew he was on the wrong side, even though that was the same side she’d been on her whole life. Is she completely in the moment, or is she already seeing that there’s no way out for her here? That the people they’ve brought into the Mountain are really going to destroy it?

Bellamy coming out in Lovejoy’s clothes looks like a kid trying on new clothes at the mall before the new school year. Except he’s just dumped a body down a trash chute.

Like “I’ll come back for you, I promise”--I can see a basis for a ship in that. So far it is 100% built on how Echo would have to be dumb not to fall in love with Bellamy but still.

This Maya and Bellamy scene is amazing. I love every aspect of it.

Lemme just...watch that Jonty hug on repeat.

Honestly they even ended the scene with them walking out the door together even though there’s no way anyone could have moved Harper that fast and there’s also no indication of who moved her or how. Guess she’s...not that important...?? LOL??

Kane has only two modes: fairly ineffectual bastard or utterly ineffectual neo-hippie. “You’re not grasping the situation! We’re nice! Be nice to us!” I probably shouldn’t mock him bc he is me lol, I also would not know what else to say to Emerson other than ‘please????’ but still. Common sense and peace and love would be great but those aren’t shared values I guess.

And then he goes 180 to ‘let’s torture him then?’

What you should be doing is good cop bad cop. Or like, wearing him down with repeated questioning? I heard that’s an effective interrogation technique, although here Emerson has a certain advantage of time and that his interrogators are way more easily annoyed than he is easily worn down or confused.

Anyway I remember now. Clarke ultimately solves this problem with that ultimate BDE moment, sending him with a message and 6 hours of oxygen. She really is just the Smartest.

At least Kane acknowledges that the Chancellorship is a completely random title since Abby literally just kinda stole it? Like Jaha is the rightful Chancellor and Kane is the second-most-rightful Chancellor and she’s just sorta...there? But it also doesn’t matter because as established, Clarke is the one actually in charge.

This Bellamy and Maya elevator scene is also the kind of tension that I like. Is Bellamy...legitimately considering shooting him? In the elevator? That would end badly lol. He has this idea to just start randomly offing people in public/enclosed places, while Lexa is all like ‘we can’t save TonDC bc it would blow Bellamy’s cover!’ like the irony.

I wonder if the MW classes are like...to some end, like, mandatory schooling that must be completed, or if they’re just like for funsies? I think the second, partially because it’s an “Expressionist class” which doesn’t seem like the Three Rs and partially because this dude doesn’t seem upset that Maya didn’t show, like he’s just vaguely wondering where she was.

“We’ve accomplished great things” in that tone is like the MOST American thing I have ever heard. (I can say this because I’m American.)

“We’ve been bleeding people to stay alive for generations. That’s our legacy” is true in the sense that Dante’s line in the sane is...truly in the sand. But also has it been ‘generations’? I’m not sure you understand how time works, show-as-a-whole. I mean maybe this is technically true? They probably discovered Grounders like....50 years ago? Which is sort of “generations.” But when you say it like that it makes it sound way longer.

You wanna root for Dante over Cage because he’s on the side of our heroes but in terms of like bitter logic Cage has the advantage. What they’ve already done and what Dante has managed to rationalize to himself is bad enough. They’re already Doing Bad Things, doing yet more bad things isn’t going to bother anyone. Especially when these extra bad things (1) come out to the same--torturing/killing people and (2) lead them to a permanent home on the ground.

I wonder if Dante/MW justified what they did to Grounders with stories of them being like...irradiated mutants. Like literally inhuman. So it ‘doesn’t count.’ I mean objectively they’re wrong of course but I mean in their heads. And then for Dante the line is so obvious between killing radiation casualties and killing just normal humans like themselves, whereas for Cage--who sees the Grounders more because of Cerberus, and knows they don’t look that much different, that they are also just people underneath the masks and big clothes--sees no difference between the Grounders and the Sky People, and if he’s already sullied himself by using one set, he can continue sullying himself, for a greater cause, by using the other set. It’s just a question of which story you’re telling yourself and how much you’re willing to lie.

The plotting of this season is, overall, very good. Especially in the second half.

I think Clarke’s default mode when stressed is order giving. It’s part of the control thing. She’s okay if she has everything under control, and if she knows everything, and when she has all that knowledge and control it just...spills out of her, directing people with what they need to do and where they need to go.

Whereas Raven’s in full ‘falling out of love with Clarke’ mode.

Also I think Clarke is very quick to comfort people and she is genuine in this but because she ALSO has her agenda and her strident tone and her controlled demeanor, it can look like manipulation. Or at least, if I were her friend, I would always wonder if she really cared or if she just wanted me to calm down so my emotions weren’t in the way of The Plan.

My 15 second Raven, Clarke, and Octavia scene. Lemme just rewatch this a bunch of times too.

“Jackson found genetic marker anomalies that can only come from someone born on the Ark.” Remember when people were theorizing that this was a big deal in some way? The Arkers were genetically modified to withstand space? I remember that being a theory. Anyway in retrospect, it’s just a Plot Device. Possibly a Pseudo-Science Plot Device I would not know.

Never mind. “We were genetically engineered. They weren’t.” So it is in fact canon, just meaningless canon. HOW IS THIS SOME RANDOM THROWAWAY LINE?

Clarke’s feral moments are the best.

It’s cute how Abby continues to think Clarke isn’t in charge.

Having Bell run into Lovejoy’s son is cheap but effective. I still remember that scene and I can really feel the full effect on him through Bob’s acting and the music. I also always remember that line “What did you expect you’d find here?” Because the answer is obviously ‘monsters.’ They had their simple narrative too: about how MW were the bad guys and thus they could destroy them all and it would be vengeful and feel good. But it’s more complicated than that: everyone in the Mountain is complicit in terrors. But many of them passively so. Bellamy was ready to kill all of them, and so was Clarke, but he changes his mind based on this encounter, tells her about it over the radio, and makes HER change her mind and in fact change her entire plan, by the time she explains it in 2x15.

And it’s sad for Maya too because Bellamy is being aided by her but she is still a Mountain Person. It’s easy to say ‘she’s an exception, she’s Jasper’s friend, she’s our friend.’ But she’s done everything he hates the Mountain for. If the whole Mountain is evil, she’s evil. And to the extent you can’t be both pro-MW and pro-Sky People, she’s put in this impossible position of choosing sides, or trying to switch sides abruptly. Bellamy sees that, and it’s like yet one more additional layer to his guilt over what he did, because he sees a new angle to how it affected Maya, without whom he’d be dead.

Jonty the leader couple. And Jasper’s face when Monty says “We’re not safe here.”

S2 is my favorite bc of plotting like this episode: just as the 47 are about to leave, Cage stages his coup. Just as Bellamy is about to see his friends, the doors lock and they’re trapped. The moment when Jasper sees Bellamy--with absolutely no reason to believe this could even be possible. In trying to plan fics that use S2 I tend to get confused about the plot bc it goes back and forth and circles around a lot, but in actually watching it, it’s quite effective, and I think part of the circling confusion is just bc there are so many moving parts, people need to be in the right places at the right times, meet and separate at the right moments, so it can read awkwardly in summary. But they did a good job ultimately, I think.

Another thing about S2 generally is that even though it’s much more expansive than S1 in terms of locations and number of characters and groups of characters, ultimately almost everything revolves around one story (except for the CoL setup stuff), and 2 main locations that have meaning, with various points in between. So it is more concise and more centralized and more meaningful than later seasons, which become increasingly spread out and disjointed. Or so I try to explain to myself at 1am.

Yaaaay emotional Princess Mechanic and then Bravenlarke. I live for these moments when characters are just like...emotional together.

I don’t know if I find it realistic that Clarke would be like ‘it’s over’ so fast but nevertheless I like Raven and Bellamy picking her back up.

Clarke’s relieved face...she’s in love.

Bellamy: I’m fine. Me: He’s a liar!!! But I guess they can talk about his emotions later.

When they’re all together, they’re all better. Like immediately. Even Clarke’s “Raven’s going to help you” with a little look to her, like, this isn’t an order, and Raven nods....

I love that Bellamy took Maya’s expression to mean “It’s not a problem” when it quite obviously meant “It’s a huge problem.” But also Clarke smiled for .05 seconds so I think she knew he was a-lying. This could be a sitcom if it were a totally different show.

Weirdly, I watched part of 2x15 again for a fic I decided not to write atm and...they don’t actually use the Grounders as a Trojan Horse army. Their plan NOT to kill everyone including the kids meant basically that they used their real army as a distraction and then just took the inside-Grounders out the back way. Or that was the idea. Which in retrospect is actually kind of disappointing.

Clarke’s power walk through the hallway with her Grounder Entourage is just so....satisfying. This is the emotional payoff that got me into this show.

Clarke just literally staging a coup against her own mother, using the Grounder force that sees her as a leader, is so.... I feel like I have never appreciated it before this rewatch. I think in the past I found it kind of annoying tbh. But this time I like it a lot more. I like Clarke’s just insane levels of confidence and self-assurance. It is a good look.

First of all the parallel to the Wallaces. But more importantly, I always wanted this big story line of Delinquents Versus Arkers that never fully came as I wanted it, but this is pretty close, where she’s just used to being in charge by now, so you know what, she is. And the only thing she needs to make her desire for power real is muscle, which she has, thanks to Lexa, so she uses it. It’s also very satisfying. And should ultimately have been the groundwork for the delinquents to form a separate community but WHAT DO I KNOW?

All that said, and this isn’t contradictory, but Clarke picks like the MOST inflammatory way to go about her plan. She just does it, she gives no explanation, she stages a showdown at the gate with her own Mom the Chancellor. There is a subtler way of doing this. But I like that she didn’t do subtle because it’s IC for her. It’s IC for her age (who is more Dramatique than a teen?) and it’s IC for her place in her hero’s arc: under L’s influence, she’s becoming big-headed, leaning into the sin of pride, here in the form of “I do can do no wrong,” and by 2x16 in the form of “I can do no right, no one has ever been more wrong than I, no one has ever been more sorrowful than I, let me perform penance in the woods.”

Pride: the most annoying deadly sin.

Anyway.

And Kane, who always bows to the Alpha Female in the room, immediately enables Clarke’s Drama.

“Let our people go and we’ll let you live. It’s just that simple.”

“The Grounder army is bigger than you think and the acid fog can’t hurt them” is honestly a bluff though? Because again, they do not use or even PLAN to use the inside Grounders and they DO plan to take out the acid fog so??? I guess the point, if she was protecting Bellamy, WAS the bluff, WAS the distraction.

I think it was unnecessary to take out his O2 but I guess she’s really just showing off, which again is IC and I guess has the purpose of showing MW she means business and is Not To Be Fucked With. Still, it is important that her message make it to MW since it’s the distraction Bellamy asked for, so it seems like something of a risk to make it hard for the messenger to arrive home safely.

I do like that she gets to use that classic retort “That sounds like a you problem.”

And so.... I meant to go to sleep like 3 hours ago, and my power is flickering. Time for bed. The end, goodnight.

#the 100 #the year 2020 #2020: the 100 s2 #2020: fandom thoughts

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