Here are some scrapped scenes and snippets from Caged that I saved cuz I liked them.
In hindsight, the statue of Atem was a little on the nose, but it was only fair he gave the man his due credit after drawing so much inspiration from his palace. The day it went up, Malik had gently suggested using the Pharaoh Set's likeness instead; however, even Seto felt that having two large installations of himself would come across as obnoxious to the average park guest.
Frankly, this was the only aspect of the area he didn't need, or want, Malik's opinion on. It just made sense for Atem to be there. This wasn't some desperate attempt at preserving a dead man's memory, no matter how many people insisted otherwise.
Mokuba, Yuugi, Daimon, Isono, Malik — none of them knew what they were talking about. Why couldn't they just take his word for it? Why was this the one thing they always had to question? Why—
The cold kiss of metal pressed against his neck halted his thoughts before they managed to spiral any further.
A low chuckle rumbled behind him.
“Heh. I’ll be damned.”
Seto sighed. He supposed it wasn’t a public event without at least one attempt on his life.
At least they’d gotten tired of using Mokuba.
"I'm surprised a big shot like you had the guts to come waltzin' into my turf without an entourage," the man said, digging the barrel further into his nape. “Guess me and the broad are gonna be eatin’ good tonight.”
Seto wondered how much this one would ask for. A million? Ten? Fifty? Occasionally they’d be creative and ask for passwords or patents. Those were his favourite; smart enough to know where the real money was, but still stupid enough to think that this would actually end in their favour. What good was having money when they would be arrested at best and a smear on the pavement at worst? His personal security should be opening fire any—
...Hold on.
Hadn’t they been stationed by his empty limousine to throw off photographers? Wouldn’t that mean they were all at the car lot on the opposite side of the park?
Shoot.
Actually no, don’t.
"Hands where I can see 'em rich boy," the stranger demanded. "You ain't leavin' here without payin' me a proper fee for tresspassin'."
Fuck's sake he spoke like the mutt. Were they from the same area?
"Do you want cash or credit?" Seto asked dully.
"From you? Fifty— no, a hundred gold bars!"
"...What kind of poorly conceived cartoon villain are you?"
"One that's gonna blast your face open if you don't—”
There was an audible crunch as a steel pipe slammed into his would-be assailant’s head, leaving an unsightly dent where flesh met steel.
Seto turned and watched the man slowly fall to his knees before crumpling onto the pavement, trails of blood leaking from his nose and mouth. He looked vaguely familiar.
"Heya dragonfucker," his decidedly unheroic saviour said with a wink.
"Nice swing."
"You think? We've been playing a lot of Wii Sports lately," the other Malik said, resting his makeshift weapon across his shoulders.
"What are you still doing here?" Seto asked, continuing towards his car. "I thought we agreed you'd be taking a ride share back to the hotel."
"I was until I spotted Widow's Peak hanging around the parking garage entrance." A shrug. "Figured no one with hair that terrible could be up to any good."
“Are you speaking from experience?”
“Says the guy who probably goes in asking for The Coconut.”
[...]
Seto came to an abrupt stop and spun on his heel. “Enough. I don’t need to be lectured by someone that relied on magical bullshit to barely win his duels. And for the umpteenth time, I’ve already made peace with Atem’s departure."
"Departure," Malik repeated mockingly.
"He literally left through a door."
[...]
“He also wanted me to tell you to—” Malik cleared his throat, once again adopting his other self’s manner of speech. “‘Eat a dick, you dick’.”
“Is that a threat or an invitation?”
“Oi.”
[...]
“Correct me if I’m wrong, but I don’t remember sleeping with Kaiba being on our spreadsheet.”
[...]
“We need to talk,” Malik said, catching his attention. “Now.”
“Call me crazy, but—”
“You’re crazy.”
“—I actually think our relationship might improve if we spoke to each other less.”
“Did you have sex with Kaiba?” Malik asked, cutting right to the point.
His other self chuckled. “If I did, then he was so underwhelming that I already forgot.”
“That isn’t a no.”
“It’s not a yes either; ever think of that?”
“Can you just answer my question? Do I have to say please? Because I’ll say it.”
“Aw, are you jealous?” his darker half cooed, pinching Malik’s cheek. “You’ll always be my number one pain in the ass, if that’s what you’re worried about.”
I've been working on a Hubrishipping-centric fic for like a year now and I've finally reached the point where I've stopped stressing about how many people will actually read it because FCK IT I've already written the longest Irateshipping fic in existence so WHO CARES I'LL READ IT YUM YUM YUM
The human ability to forget can be both a blessing and a curse. After a traumatic experience like Bakura's, the most convenient solution would be to forget it ever happened. To lock it away in the darkest corner of his mind, never to visit it again. To somehow continue living without ever having to deal with the reality of loss.
But was that really forgetting? Or was it repression?
Star Crossed by @pandabaozi & Sonnista
Written for the @thieveszine and art by the amazing @stardreamerart 💫
Bullies try and give me shit for using too many cremes and moisturizers but their punches slide off harmlessly and I slip-slide away down the halls like an oily little penguin
if i ever interacted with you and it was awkward just know im sorry and painfully aware that sometimes i come off like a person who is having the first conversation of their life
turnnoffyourmind
dailybridgerton
jimmyeatworldofficial
titsay
