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the12thnightproject · 8 months

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(Sound up on vid)

Event: One Suitor, One Prompt, sponsored by @violettduchess

Suitor/Prompt: Clavis / Water

Clavis vs Emma, Yves, Rio, Licht, Keith; with an assist from Chevalier, as witnessed by Cyran

Title: The Rube Golderg Escalation

Logline: One prank leads to another... or... does it?

Genre: Chaos Fic

Warnings: There might be a pun

Word Count: ~3000

Precisely at midnight, in a room fortified by three different fail-safe traps, Clavis instantly falls asleep. The moment he face-plants on his desk, the top of his head knocks over the first domino in a line of tiles that snakes across the room. This sets in motion a chain reaction as the dominos topple one by one, until the final tile nudges a marble, which rolls down a ramp and plops into a basket attached to a pulley. The marble’s weight causes the basket to descend and a platform to rise. At the top of the climb, the platform flips a lever, and a dagger pops up to slice a string, releasing a mallet that swings down and knocks over a jar full of tiny silver balls.

The balls whoosh to the floor and rebound in a symphonic clatter.

At the noise, Clavis wakes up and leaps to his feet.

He looks around… checks his traps…

Then he corrals the balls, resets every stage of his device, and settles back at his desk again, determined to stay awake.

At 12:48 a.m., Clavis’s head droops, and as he falls into slumber, he again face-plants on his desk-–

We’re going to pause here, for this scenario will repeat another five and a half times, until 5:29 a.m. The five hours until that moment will be far less interesting than the hours that drove us to this point.

So, let us go back in time a bit…

“Haha, I know you have fallen in love with me. Even though you first set eyes upon me only moments ago, you now are so truly madly deeply attached to my person, that you’ve dropped your plans to conspire against me, your one true love.”

Further back.

“Do you want a cupcake?”

Keep going.

“You want me to instruct you on how to achieve revenge on Clavis.”

Not quite there yet… keep going.

“Congratulations. You have a son.”

That’s … too far.

Two days ago, just after ten in the morning, Yves and Licht fell prey to a pit trap. This in itself was not an out of the ordinary occurrence, as sometimes it seemed that Yves and Licht only existed for the sole purpose of falling into these traps. In fact, they had blundered into so many traps that Clavis had been forced to invent new and exciting ways to make them even more fun for his brothers, to ensure that they did not become bored with the whole enterprise.

Therefore, this particular Thursday morning, the trap had been filled with water, and –

[Right. It has been pointed out to this correspondent that “filled with water” is an inaccurate description. There was indeed water in the trap, water that Clavis himself had poured into the trap, but only to a depth of about two feet. There was not enough water to drown anyone hapless enough to fall into Clavis’ trap. Moving on.]

Where were we? Right. Pit trap… water… Yves and Licht.

Splash!

Sploosh!

Squish.

Casualties of the trap included Licht’s boots and Yves’ entire outfit, for he, unfortunately slid down the muddy sides of the pit and landed inelegantly on his otherwise elegant rear.

Normally, that would have been the end* of it, but when the muddy victims made their way back to the castle, they encountered Emma, Rio and Keith, who were out for a morning stroll among the roses.

Yves’s condition elicited immediate sympathy from Emma. Meanwhile Rio vowed that should Emma become a pit trap victim, Clavis would need to travel past the islands of Kogyoku to escape his wrath. But it was an uncharacteristic suggestion from Keith, offered in an uncharacteristic tone of voice, that toppled the first domino. “Perhaps you should get even with him. Teach him what it’s like to be the object of a prank.”

Yves paused to wring out his cravat before answering. The sight of the muddy water dripping onto the ground caused him to flinch, and Emma was tempted to hug him. However when he finally spoke, it was to shoot down the idea. “I have more important things to do than to get involved in a war of pranks.”

Then he squish-marched his way into the castle without another word.

Things might have ended there, were it not for the unlikely assistance of Chevalier, who nudged the marble forward.

(Yes. Chevalier. Really.)

His advice was quite possibly unintentional. After all, the petty pranks of his younger siblings had nothing to do with him, and there was no incentive for him to step in and help…

“You’re blocking the light, Simpleton. Also. No.” Chevalier did not look up from his book, even though Emma had been patiently waiting for him to speak to her. The eventual acknowledgement wasn’t especially flattering, but she was interrupting his reading time, which probably accounted for his mood.

[Ed. Note: No it didn’t.]

“You don’t even know what I was about to –“

“You want me to instruct you on how to achieve revenge on Clavis.” Chevalier set the book in his lap, the open pages signaling that he expected this to be too short a discussion to bother shutting it, too short even to keep his finger in to mark his place. Not that he would have done so anyway**. “It’s not worth my breath. Besides, a man who expects an attack will never let down his guard enough to be surprised.” He picked up the book again, a clear signal that the conversation was over and Emma had again become invisible to him.

“Expects an attack…” Though Emma had spoken aloud, Chevalier did not react. There had been a considering tone to her voice, as if an idea had occurred to her. It was only after she left his private library that Chevalier looked up, with half of his mouth quirked up in a tiny smile.

Perhaps the idea of a private Chevalier smile is artistic license. This correspondent will leave that decision up to the reader.

The following morning, a strategy session took place in the secondary kitchen. Though Yves had professed disinterest in revenge, he had been lured to the meeting with the promise of a recipe from Jade that Keith swore was an heirloom from his Grandmother’s kitchen. And since he was already there, he supposed he could hear Emma out…

“… what is so perfect about this idea is that we actually don’t have to do anything.” Emma went on to detail her idea. “If we set it up correctly, the prank will just work on its own.”

It was simple.

It was deceptive.

It was devious.

It was a surprise that this devious plan had come from Emma.

“You’ve been working too hard with the Bossman.” Rio examined her for signs of nervous exhaustion.

Emma decided it would be a bad idea to mention that the impetus of this plot had come from Chevalier.

Even after they all agreed that the scheme was really quite workable, they might not have ever come up with the nerve to deploy it. That was when fate stepped in, kicking that marble down the ramp.

“Dearie me, you’re having a secret breakfast meeting without me.” Clavis put his hand to his heart. “I can only think that you must be putting together a surprise for my birthday. Let me guess – we’re going to have full day to fete me? A Celebration of Clavis, as it were? Or… Carnival of Clavis! I am touched.”

At his words, the five co-conspirators immediately displayed the shamed faces that only people unused to subterfuge can do. Emma blushed. Yves cleared his throat and fiddled with his earring. Keith stuck his hand in his coat and stared at the wall. Rio looked up at the ceiling. Licht looked down at the floor.

A more guilty looking party you couldn’t find outside of a political convention.

Instantly alerted by their reactions, Clavis gazed at this gallery of rogues. “I sense a plot is in the works.”

“Eep.” Emma could only squeak.

“Nothing.” Licht’s denial was mumbled at sub-audible volume***.

“My mistress would never dream of such a thing.” Rio turned and winked at Emma.

Casually… perhaps too casually at this point – Clavis stole a pastry from the tray and popped it in his mouth. Only after swallowing it during a silence as uncomfortable as a lukewarm bath in winter did he speak. “If I were a suspicious type, one who did not believe his family loved him, I might think you all were planning a dastardly trick on me.” He added a disbelieving laugh at the end, and waited for them to deny things.

A chorus of not terribly convincing “Of course nots,” arose, after which the original members of the tea plotting party suddenly recalled that they all had tasks that immediately needed accomplished, and made their escape.

Only the dregs of their breakfast remained, and Clavis was left gazing at the space where they had been. They truly were up to something. A game… a plot… a… revenge?

Maybe… maybe filling the pit trap with water had been a bad idea?

Hm.

He resolved to be on his guard for signs of surprise attacks. Not that they could possibly come up with a revenge that rivalled his own pit traps and other experiments.

The marble had fallen into the basket, and the platform was on the ascent.

Upon exiting the kitchen, Clavis noticed Emma had paused to talk to Cyran. When Emma glanced over her shoulder and spotted Clavis, she bit her lip and scurried away.

“You too?” Clavis’s words weren’t loud enough to reach Cyran’s ears, but he had already seen Clavis peering out of the kitchen, so he greeted the Prince accordingly.

“Good morning sir.” Taking in the remains of the conspirator’s food, he added, “Did you make breakfast for Emma then?” This was said in the guarded tones of a man who has eaten Clavis’s cooking and barely lived to tell the tale.

Ignoring the question, Clavis gestured to where Emma and Cyran had been talking. “Did she try to recruit you to the cause?”

“What cause?” Cyran said outwardly. Now what? (He said inwardly).

“Dear me, there are multiple causes. I knew it. For they will need to attack on simultaneous fronts in order to best me.” All five of them were independently working on plots against him. “Thank you for confirming the existence of those dastardly plans.”

Cyran sighed. “I said what cause, not which cause.”

“Ah ha!”

“Ah ha?”

“Ah ha ha ha.” And with that, Clavis strode off, leaving a truly confused Cyran in his wake.

A short while later, Clavis discovered Emma furtively creeping out of Sariel’s office. She held something shiny in her hand that she tried to hide when she spotted him. “We meet again, my love!” He bowed over her hand, inspecting the object. It was a key. Flashing her a dazzling smile, he said, “Hahaha. Sariel gave you a key? It won’t open the door to my room, so if you plan to wait for me there on a bed of roses, it is all for naught.”

“What? No!” Emma blushed and thrust the key behind her back. “It’s for the hidden gazebo in the garden.” Her face still bright red, Emma edged away from him, then zipped down the hallway.

Once she was out of sight, a frown crossed his face. Had Sariel managed to make a key that would unlock his room? Clavis had designed that lock to be impossible to break… but just to be safe, it would be a good idea to increase the protections in his room.

As a precaution.

And thus… the dagger sliced through the string, and the mallet swooped down, releasing over the course of the day, a series of suspicious incidents, conversations and near misses that bounce through his mind like tiny silver balls…

Item One – a serving tray full of Yves’s freshly baked pastry. Just before Clavis could take a lavender-bergamot flavored cupcake, Rio rotated the tray. Had this been a suggestion he wanted Clavis to take the cake now closest to his hand? Or maybe a diversion that was aimed to ensure he took the purple frosted one he had originally been aiming for? In the end, Clavis decided he was safest depriving himself of the treat altogether, and went without tea.

Item Two – Emma and Keith (and perpetual tag-along Rio) invited him on an excursion to that previously mentioned secret gazebo. But… were they nudging him down a specific path? Clavis could not see any evidence of a newly dug trap… but danger didn’t only lurk below. He eyed the line of hedges, looking for a suspended net or hanging bucket… and in the process, stubbed his toe on an unevenly placed stone on the path. Giving up on the trek, he returned to the main garden, and perched upon a warm sunny bench in an open area where he would be able to see if anyone approached. A slight sunburn was his reward – but at least no one attacked him and no net landed upon him.

Item Three – At a party that night arranged for a delegation of visiting nobles from outside the capital area, Clavis took note of a lovely, long-legged lady who eyed him with overt appreciation. Ah… another instance of love at first sight. He would permit her to lay her heart at his feet. However, before Clavis could reach her side, the lady was temporarily waylaid by Emma and Yves. He was too far away to hear their conversation, but … what if this unknown lady had been hired as part of their revenge prank?

Alas, for Clavis, the woman was completely innocent of any conspiracy, and his less-than-subtle questioning of her only resulted in a –

Slap!

At this point, Clavis called for a tactical retreat, barricaded himself in his room, and set up a complicated alarm to help keep him awake past midnight, in order to ensure he could instantly repel a pre-dawn revenge raid.

This brings us to 5:27 a.m…

Clavis has once again fallen asleep at his desk. Regrettably, in his exhaustion, he neglected to correctly reset his ‘Clavis Personal Sleep Interrupter™’ and the dominos ceased falling mid-stream. The marble stayed at the top of the ramp. The dagger never cut the string to release the mallet. There was no cascade of silver balls across the floor.

Instead, at 5:28 a.m. there is a crash, followed by a yelp of pain outside his room, caused by one of the maids colliding with a castle footman and dropping her dust pan... on the footman’s foot****.

Awakened and alarmed by the noise, Clave jumps to his feet, grabs a weapon, and runs to his door, determined to confront an invasion. Given his mostly sleepless night, it should not come as a surprise that he forgot his own booby traps. Therefore, when he throws open the door, there is a BOOM as an explosion of pink dust fills the room. This is followed by a sploosh when a bucket of honey (stolen from Luke who will not be happy when he realizes it is gone) falls on his head. Then finally a floof, when the honey-blinded Clavis trips over a rope and falls into mini-pit full of feathers.

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

(The Maid, upon seeing the pink honey and feather colored beast emerging from Clavis’s room).

EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK

(The Footman, deeper voice, same cause).

At 9:42 a.m. a freshly cleaned, de-honeyed, de-pinked, de-feathered (except for one tiny feather stuck to the side of his head), very tired, sunburned and slightly feverish Clavis finds and confronts the gang of five, who are, this time, enjoying breakfast in the rose garden. “What a sorry looking cabal of conspirators.” Five “innocent” looking faces greet this statement. “You’re planning a revenge prank are you not? Ah hahaha. Have I not proved that I am equal to anything you might throw at me?”

As he spoke, that one tiny feather finally loosed itself and drifts harmlessly to the ground.

After a moment of silence for the kamikaze feather, Emma, who has somehow been elected speaker, shakes her head. “Prince Clavis, no one here is planning a prank on you.”

One eyebrow rises in disbelief.

“It might be more honest to say that instead… we convinced you that we were going to prank you… and…” She waves her hand in the air. “Then you pranked yourself.”

There is a long moment of silence while Clavis ponders the ramifications of that.

Longer…

“Ah hahahah haha” Clavis throws back his head and laughs into the sky. “I knew it! You all love me! Nothing else could have motivated such a brilliant plot. Emma… Rio… Keith… and my beloved brothers… I’m overjoyed.” Indeed, it does appear that Clavis is shaking with excitement. “Only people who adore me and respect my genius could have realized what was truly necessary to trick me. Because of course, the only person who can successfully prank me is,” he pauses for dramatic effect, “Me! How deliciously intriguing.”

The conspirator’s momentary relief that he appears to be taking this so well, changes to worry at Clavis’s next announcement. “I cannot wait to show you all how much I love you in return.”

(The end.... or is it...?)

*Pun intended

** Not that would Chevalier ever stoop to leaving his finger in a book, turning it upside down or commit the heinous crime of folding down the corner of a page. He has no need to as he always remembers his exact place.

***More sub-audible than usual

**** Though this uproar is incredibly well timed and placed, it is actually just an unfortunate coincidence. Emma, Rio, Yves, Licht, Keith and Keith were all asleep in their respective beds when this occurred and had nothing to do with the maid/footman collision. Sometimes an act of fate is simply that.

Thank you @violettduchess for a lovely event that forced me way way beyond my Sengoku comfort zone.

Also thanks to Lorei helping to ensure this isn't egregiously OOC.

#ikemen prince #ikemen prince clavis #clavis lelouch #yves kloss #licht klein #rio ortiz #chevalier michel #cyran rose #ikepri emma #ikepri clavis #ikepri fanfic #cybird #wow princes are more difficult to write than warlords!#one suitor one prompt ccc #keith howell #whoops almost forgot keith #and his last name #original inspiration - 'The Joker Is Wild' M*A*S*H ep 44

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dollypopup · 3 months

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just. . .do y'all remember when Polin actually loved each other in our fandom? do you remember when our posts were about how sweet they were together? when it was about how they were on one another's teams? when it was story after story and post after post of polin against the world? of 'I like you' 'I like you too'? of 'Is life meant to be this happy?' 'I think so'? Do you remember when we were all about how much Colin loved Penelope and Penelope loved Colin? When the biggest narrative was that they saw one another, made one another brave, brought out the best in each other? When the mirror was more than just a sex scene and was also a metaphor for what they saw in each other and how they reflected one another? When they were kind to each other? When we were kind to them as characters? When they were encouraging? When they were affectionate and loving and tenderhearted and messy and silly and loving with one another? When Penelope chose Colin at every turn and Colin chose her?

Where is it? Where is the love for our couple? Be honest, wanting Colin to grovel and suffer isn't for Polin fans. It's for Pen stans. Because us Colin fans are shown time and time and time again that it's okay to call a character we love an idiot, want him egregiously punished or humiliated, to see nothing good in his character at all. So who else is it meant for? I miss when we cared about them. I miss when there was a place we could go that was about their romance and tenderness. I miss when it wasn't just straight up hating on him, or us obsessed with Penelope getting with other characters, or thinking he's less than.

We have one of the *best* Male Love Leads in the entire series. And if you don't think that way. . .I just don't understand why you claim to ship this ship. We have an amazing pairing. A wonderful couple. A couple who cares about each other, a couple who builds one another up, a couple that are friends, a couple that has passion and happiness and so much potential.

Do you remember our gifsets gushing about how much he cared for her? Do you remember our metas about how they could bloom and flourish around one another? When we looked at how Colin was hypervisible but ultimately unheard and how Penelope was invisible but the loudest voice in the ton and sighed about how they fit so well with one another? Do you remember when Penelope was proud to have Colin as a partner and he showed her off at every turn? Do you remember when it wasn't a scorecard? When it wasn't about suffering and was about tenderness? Do you remember when they LOVED each other in our fandom? Do you remember when we loved them?

I remember.

And I miss it. I miss it so much.

#actually fuck it i'm untagging it #because no one fucking cares #i don't belong here and i should just take the fucking hint already #these posts are depressing #these TAGS are depressing #there's no love #there's no romance here anymore #our version of their romance has been distilled into 'heehee can't wait to see him jealous and crying over our queen'#but i want to see them in LOVE #ooey gooey happy sugary dripping in sap in love #these posts about groveling and jealousy and suffering aren't for them as a couple #where is penelope 'my husband' featherington?#where is how proud she is of Colin? how happy she is with him?#where's the tenderness? our bragging about how amazing our couple is? where's the heart eyes over their looks? their humor?#how they laugh together?#instead of seeing their lessons as quality time we've cheapened them into a series of suffering points #instead of looking at the suitors storyline and being like 'of course pen is still going to choose colin she loves him'#we want her to rub it in his face #instead of wanting introspection from colin and seeing him come to terms slowly with the fact that he loves penelope for all she is #we want a quick 'other people want her and that's not fair!' lightning strike realization #i miss when this couple was a couple #i miss when we loved them #and i miss when they loved each other #it's about drama not romance #it's about suffering and not joy #it's just painful loving this couple for both the characters and seeing them twisted into the worst versions of themselves

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sorrygotthesesacks · 6 months

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Kalim would be the funniest, most earnest, "whatever we need to make this happen" wingman for Silver. A fancy dinner's normal with these things, right? I can get you reservations anywhere! Theatre? Sebek has been to see the opera and he likes to read, right? I can hook you up with tickets! How about a party? A party is always a good idea, no exceptions!

Unbeknownst to Kalim (and also unbeknownst to Silver and Sebek), Silbek have been in a long term relationship. They just haven't realized it yet.

#i love all variations of silver and sebek have been dating and are too dumb to realize it #everything about them is what ace talked about in his suitor suit vignette #ok I'm extrapolating a bit on that one but still #get you someone who despite your arguments has your back #and doesn't let anyone talk shit about you #and lets you use them as a pillow #and sees what you're capable of #lilia's training is basically like dating #who knows maybe kalim's attempts click that lightbulb on for them #not sure who it clicks for first #but if it's sebek he won't admit it #silsebe #sebesil

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beeapocalypse · 22 days

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court of the wayward prince

#tangible #scribbles #prince oc #one of them is just a homunculus cat and the other doesnt have a name / title yet. sad #prince ran off when his mothers most favored suitor took off on a hunt to try to bring it back a suitable trophy. wolfguy has been tailing-#--him+his little freak cat for a bit and constantly gets cornered into hanging out with them despitetrying to go unnoticed #the prince is making a little heart w his hands in his still <3 i like wolfguys design but i kind of fucked up making his paperguy good at-#--Actually Posing i will admit there isnt much to do with him. oops !

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sharonisthebettercarter · 4 months

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does anyone else see that scene where butcher straight up throws up all over hughie and think: "O-OH MY GAWD HE'S PREGANAANT!!!"

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lillianofliterature · 2 years

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word count: 875 || warnings: thranduil is very smexy

“You sent for me, your majesty?”

When he spoke, the tone of his voice was absolute and almost prim in its poised cadence. “Yes, I did.”

You knew the patterns of his speech well from years of working for him. You knew how he addressed uncooperative councilmen, threatening tradesmen, viable allies, and even the suitors you had been charged to oversee in his search for a worthy queen to stand beside him.

And this tone, it seemed so sure, so confident—and yet, somewhere between the hum of his velvet vowels, you picked up on a twinge of nervousness. You couldn’t align his tone with his mannerisms from where he stood beneath the shadow of his throne, his back turned to you. You waited patiently for him to continue.

But what had he to be nervous about? Had it been the unceremoniously dwindling list of suitors you had presented to him earlier that morning? Had the failures of his previous meetings with your elected nobility finally deterred him from finding a proper match?

You could admit to yourself (and yourself alone) that you were grateful he had not yet taken a liking to any one the nobles and fine elven suitors you had been working diligently to propose to him. Sure, it was a lot of work writing up treaty options and researching bloodlines on dozens of elves across the realm for months on end. Boring tedious work, even. But you could at least satiate the feeling of annoyed pointlessness if it meant your beloved king was not yet vowing himself to someone else (and to someone else as a direct result of your referral, no less).

At least now, in the time before he chose his graceful counterpart, you could savor the solitude you often shared as his closest advisor and friend. You could pine for him in secrecy and in the devotion of your excellent work ethic. That is, if he was still satisfied with your presented work---right now, you were unsure of that last bit. Perhaps your duties as astute court matchmaker were being demoted back to royal advisor. (You’d welcome the demotion, honestly.)

“I read your proposals twice over this morning,” he said, so casually suave, “And I must admit I was rather disappointed with what I found.”

“Is it the quantity that’s troublesome to you, my king? After our last few rendezvous with the available nobility in your kinship, I thought it best to remove any of the suitors that resembled the incompatible experiences you’ve suffered thus far,” you diligently explained, “I can run through the lists again and include everyone, if that is what you wish.”

There was a beat of silence as his chin rose, his eyes roaming the golden lights high above him in the caverned palace. He had yet to face you still.

“It isn’t the quantity, (Y/n).” He stated flatly.

“Was it the individualized treaties I proposed under their names, then? I assure you, I went to great lengths to include what they would be offering along with their companionship, your majesty. Many of them are proposing complete loyalty through the fair trade agreements we signed to last spring. I checked everyone’s several times over. There was one I highlighted for you—did you see it? Lady Etheniel’s family is rich in the textile business. You could have an entirely new wardrobe made by the fall if you accepted, or possibly even a new market of fabrics for the entire wood–-”

“(Y/n).” He calmly asserted your name in such a way that prompted your silence. With a word still halfway out of your mouth, you pursed your lips to clip the sentence short. You dropped your expressive hand to your corseted waistband. Slowly, he turned his head to the side, just enough to glance at your over his shoulder as he spoke.

“What I meant to say is,” he paused, swallowing over a hurdle in his throat. He turned his shoulders toward you a little more, still seemingly too shy to fully face you. “I summoned you here to express that all of the referrals we’ve gone over in the last few months are indefinitely lacking, no matter their background or what material trade they can offer us.”

Oh, you swallowed. Well, what did he expect you to do? Every suitable elf this side of Mount Doom had already been turned out during the formal meeting or scoured over on your lists for the king. You couldn’t materialize whatever ideal mate he was envisioning for himself.

“However, I seem to have found a solution to this troubling affair,” he stated. You watched pensively as he poured himself a glass of wine. Only after he had set the bottle down and cradled the goblet with effortless elegance did he fully turn to you, striking gaze and all.

“The solution was rather obvious. I’m ashamed to say I hadn’t thought of it before we endured months of this trivial nonsense.”

You waited for more, but he seemed to be waiting for a response of some sort. An indication that you were fully attentive, bated on his next words.

“And what solution would that be, my king?”

His lips tipped into a devilish smirk. “Well, you, of course.”

[please ask before using my imagines as prompts, or at least give credit to the idea if you are inspired by it. do not copy what I’ve already written. do not repost. thank you!] [gif not mine, found on google ages ago.]

#might make a full fic on this one #there's always a problem with the suitors #none of them really reach that standard you've subconsciously set for him in his mind #because they aren't you #so why not just choose the standard setter?#thranduil x reader #lee pace #thranduil imagine #thranduil imagines #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #the hobbit imagines #lee pace imagine #lee pace imagines #lee pace x reader

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