#imposter king au

[kings-comic]

⭐️🎄The new Christmas banner is here!!! 🎄⭐️

Hope you like it just as much as me!!! ^^

[m1d-45]

upon a hair-thin wire

summary: the hunt for the imposter has led to inazuma, and the shogunate falls back on their best detective: doushin shikanoin.

word count: ~1.9k

-> warnings: minor spoilers for inazuma archon quest, sorry to anybody that has kokomi / doesn’t have heizou, kokomi is probably ooc whoops

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yum1x || @esthelily

< masterlist >

to most, being called into kujou sara’s office by the woman herself is a death sentence.

to heizou? it’s just another tuesday.

her face is harsh as she tells him to take this case seriously, that the shogun herself has asked him to look into it. the plain folder is unassuming, if a little more full than the usual cold cases he’s handed, but the intensity in sara’s eyes is enough to kill any sarcastic remarks.

he takes the folder with a nod and retreats to his office, brushing off some of the dust from his desk. he rarely uses it, typically just taking his work home and solving it over dinner, but this…

his intuition tells him that something major is hidden between the bland beige of the folder, that some large secret awaits him behind the chains of liars.

he flicks on the light—and sends a puff of anemo to clean off the bulb—and sits down, shivering slightly as he sets down the new case. he pulls out his notepad, and a pen—two things he hadn’t used in ages, preferring to keep information solely in his mind. still, he keeps one hand there, opening the case with the other.

green eyes flash with horror.

its rare for heizou to be tired.

he’s usually good at pacing himself, even on the tough cases that make him want to stay up all night chasing something that’s just out of reach. even then, it’s rare something is both that complex and that appealing; what is a cold case to a genius detective, other than just another tuesday?

still, his hands are cramped—this is why he doesn’t take notes, he thinks—and he has a headache, probably because the light keeps flickering from disuse. his desk is covered with papers instead of dust, the remarkable amount of evidence the tenryou has gathered spread out. he’s long since abandoned the chair, instead preferring to pace around the desk, swapping out the papers in his hands as he tries to chase any lead he can.

anything to lead him to you.

it’s impressive, almost, how the kujou commission could list the exact time they spotted you on the docks, and yet never catch you. every paper is a lead, a small, hairline thread that could lead somewhere, but never do. a few link together—the fact that villagers in konda reported somebody of similar height and build running through the area, and wakamurisaka saying the same—but it was a whole lot of nothing.

it’s suspected you utilize magic. no further evidence.

it’s told you’re an alchemist. nobody says why.

he’s told you’ve somehow replicated a divine aura, something that should be impossible. nobody gives any reasoning for it.

it’s as funny as it is irate.

the light above him flickers twice, rapidly, then dies with a slow hiss. he sighs, throwing his papers onto his desk, and turns off the light switch. pulling open the curtains to his office does little, but it’ll have to do.

heizou turns back to his desk, reaching for his discarded papers, but pauses. in his anger, he’d knocked one page off another, ones he didn’t even know were stacked. he carefully pulls the new page out of the mess, moving near the window to see better.

and just like that, the listless threads coalesce into a rope.

heizou pulls.

watatsumi island is lovely year-round.

it was easy enough to get there, sara easily allowing him to travel after he mentioned it was for the case.

(it wasn’t easy, she had glared at him and threatened to throw him in front of the shogun herself if he was lying, but that was a pretty tame threat coming from her targeting him.)

showing up in front of the shrine out of nowhere would likely raise some alarms, so he opted for the waypoint by the village instead, gliding down towards the path. he walked quickly, opting not to stop and talk to (interrogate) the farmer he passed, keeping a quick pace.

the two guards usually at the entrance were missing, likely because of the higher profile target they were assigned to, but it was still eerie to walk in without any fuss.

the village was fairly empty, likely because it was approaching dusk, and he was able to move through most of it with little more than a few odd looks. it was strange; he’d walked through the village as a formality, but now he was wondering if he should have saved himself the time and gone straight for the shrine.

it’s only just before the bridge leading over that he’s stopped by a guard, and even then it’s only one. strange, as he could have sworn they patrolled in pairs.

the guard—heizou scraped his memory for his name, but came up short—planted himself in his way, tapping his spear against the path. “halt. what is your purpose here?”

“i’m looking for somebody,” he said simply. the guard didn’t seem to react, only staring and waiting for more information.

heizou sighed, pulling the official scroll from his side. he flashed the seal on it, “orders from the shogun herself. i need to speak with the priestess.”

the guard didn’t budge, though his hand tightened on his spear. nerves, maybe? but what did he have to be afraid for…

“then i suggest you wait here. i’ll pass on your message to-“

“hiroyuki? what’s going on here?”

he turned, startled, at the call of his name, and heizou looked over the approaching general. he didn’t seem to be prepared for battle, lacking his usual armor, but he could never be too sure. nonetheless, he returned the nod pointed his way.

“general gorou! what brings you out here so late? shouldn’t you…?”

gorou nodded. so they were hiding something. “i heard somebody from the tenryou commission was here and figured i should stop by. detective, what are you doing here?”

heizou crossed his arms, noting the lack of response. and they expected violence? “i’ve been assigned a case straight from the shogun herself, regarding the current… situation.” gorou’s ear flicked. “to be blunt, i’ve found that the likelihood of the fake taking refuge here to be rather high. i’m not accusing anybody of anything for now, it’s just a statistic, but i would like to ask a few questions.”

another nod. “i see. while i can assure you that nobody at watatsumi island is going against the creator’s orders-“ that’s a rather specific wording “-i understand your duty. hiroyuki, let kokomi know we’re coming.”

the guard gaped. “i- general, are you-?”

“go.”

a silent message passed between them, ending with hiroyuki’s nod and hurried retreat, the bridge swaying lightly as he rushed across it.

heizou watched, ensuring he was going to the shrine. “tensions high?”

“nobody likes seeing an officer around here. with me.”

his words were unnaturally curt, cut short like he didn’t want to talk. he got it, he was a detective for the shogunate that had stirred up some trouble before, but all was well that ended well, right?

(would it?)

he followed gorou across the bridge, noting the almost leisurely pace he took. clearly, they had something to hide, but was it what he was looking for? he didn’t seem surprised when he brought up the hunt…

and then there was the topic of his responses… ‘nobody at watatsumi island is going against the creator’s orders’ answered a total of zero of his questions, and deflected all of them. it didn’t specify anything about the shogun’s orders, nor did it address his accusations of harboring a fugitive. he’d be impressed if it didn’t sound rehearsed.

…’rehearsed’-

the guard by the waypoint nodded at gorou as they approached, shockingly not asking for identification. yes, he likely knew who heizou was, but at least for formality’s sake…

the air grew thicker as they walked over the bridge to the shrine, something heavy weighing on his shoulders. he thought it might be the humidity from the fountains, but all of watatsumi tended to be more humid anyway, and surely he wouldn’t notice now?

gorou knocked a pattern onto the door and heizou coughed as subtly as he could into his hand. the air was thick, taught with a tension he’s never felt and only barely remembers. it was something akin to an office of an authority yet without any of the bite, like he was facing something he feared but was overall harmless, his heart picking up as the air continued to thin-

the door swung inward, the smile on kokomo’s face not quite reaching her eyes. “welcome to the shrine. come in.”

the air inside was warm, nearly hot where he passed by kokomi. something about the room was wrong- right? he couldn’t tell, he could barely think over his heart in his ears, overwhelming familiarity dampening his senses even though he’s never truly been inside the shrine-

a hand landed on his shoulder and he jumped, turning to meet the priestess’ worried eyes. “detective?”

something was off about her. her hand, despite the cool silk, was warm on his skin. something about the concern on her face was familiar, reminiscent of someone he didn’t know but did remember. he flipped through his memory once, twice, three times, but couldn’t pin down why. the closest he got was when he was wished, when the light of his god burned bright in his soul and pulled him into it, leaving him stranded in a sea of stars and- oh-

’alchemy’ made sense now. it certainly felt like magic.

“i think…” his mouth was dry and the warmth in the air was localizing, pointing him past kokomi and towards a door. “i think i’m mistaken, priestess.”

kokomi’s hand fell from his shoulder, the trace remnants of divinity slipping away with it. how interesting, he thought numbly, that simply being near a god could imprint their aura into your skin.

“are you certain? you seemed quite convinced earlier.”

“no, i… i’m certain.” heizou’s hands flexed at his sides, his eyes flicking to the door without his meaning to. his mind raced, but nothing seemed to stick for very long, everything flaking away before he could grasp onto anything solid. “there’s no criminals here, least of all anything… fraudulent.”

kokomi’s eyes flashed. she shifted slightly on her feet, adjusting so more of the door was behind her, and clasped her hands in front of her. “i’m glad to hear it, detective. i send the tenryou my regards, and wish you best of luck finding what you’re looking for.”

he nodded again, sharp wit long since dulled.

“the best of luck to you as well, priestess.”

[kursed-curtain]

After a convo with @thewatercolours made my brain roll into big sad territory I had to draw this design out

Anyways here's Achaka for this au :,))) my heart ough

The button on his chest makes him say things

[kings-comic]

:DD

can't say much about the characters I have not introduced at all such as four tho- sorry :)

OC's Background Relationships Ask Game

Send an ask with OC + emoji (or the corresponding text), get a short ramble about the relationship of that OC with the corresponding side/background characters!

🎲 - Biological parents

👑 - Person who raised your OC and/or was important during their formative years

❓ - Estranged family/relatives they've never met

📎 - Siblings/close family

✨ - Children (current or future)

💎 - Chosen family (including warband)

🧸 - Childhood friends

🏆 - Best friends (past, current or future)

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💋 - First kiss

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💔 - Exes

🍑 - Notable flings

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[ham1lton]

the wag pages are like here’s yn wearing zara jeans from 2014 and an exo tour shirt from 2015. meanwhile lewis is like i literally wore custom dior to himself

author’s note: i went a little overboard. sorry. i completely missed the actual original plot. mini au from the dream girl series <3

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liked by alexandrasaintmleux, lewishamilton and 288,298 others.

f1wags: some of my favourite recent outfits of the girls!!! featuring my personal top three fashionistas.

tagged: lilymhe, yourinstagram and alexandrasaintmleux

view all comments

yourinstagram: i don’t forgive you all for posting me in my cheeto stained cringy kpop merch hoodie three years ago.

-> f1wags: it was a moment 😊

-> yourinstagram: and so was the sinking of the titanic. we wouldn’t post that would we 🤨

yourinstagram: bitch wait. i’m not even a wag 😭

lilymhe: being here next to these two beauties made my day.

-> user1: love lilyn <3

-> user2: lilyn sounds like a rapper.

user16: why is yn here 😭😭😭😭

-> user17: what does wag stand for nowadays? weird and gym-phobic?

-> user16: okay don’t play with my girl now…

-> user18: like 😭😭 idgaf i will ride for yn!!!

yourinstagram: i just realised… i think that i’m the imposter here 🤠

-> f1wags: um no? your outfits are always gorgeous!!!

-> yourinstagram: i’m not a wag??

-> f1wags: not yet 🩷

-> yourinstagram: HUH?!!

-> yourinstagram: WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?! 😭

user3: #needthat

user4: poly black hijabi nonbinary amputee could never 😹

-> user5: what does this even mean

user6: GORGEOUS GIRLS

user7: HOLDON IM TRYINB TO SPEALL GAWJOUS

-> user7: GORGESO

-> user7: GOEHANUS

-> user7: GOAHJUS

-> user7: Y’ALL ARE PRETTY DAMN 😭

user8: why is lewis liking this

-> user9: bc yn is his boothang

user10: yn is so fine i’m drooling

-> user11: no cause how did lewis bag that it’s insane

-> user12: he’s hot, rich, a legend of his sport, and loves his dogs. who wouldn’t want him?

user13: alex is so stunning. the green is everything.

user14: this group is so mean girls coded. alex is gretchen, yn is karen and lily is regina.

-> user15: omg obsessed.

user19: YNLEWIS STANS WE WON!!!!

-> yourinstagram: ??? no you didn’t. i’m not dating my boss?

-> user19: maybe you should start then 🙄

-> yourinstagram: ????? 😭😭😭

user20: FERRARI GFS!!!

*liked by alexandrasaintmleux*

user21: no lando :(((

-> user22: miss my yn stan king :((

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— all works taglist: @luvsforme @yelenasloverrrrr @donttouchthegnote @chelle1306 @bloodyymaryy @aliciaablueprint @km-23mr @stinkyjax @f1kenzzz @ctrlyomomma @theblueblub @namgification @tallrock35 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @ariellovelynn @shhhchriss @lifeless-firefly @xylinasdiary @evie-119 @itseightbeats @landososcar @yongi-lee @velentine @m1892 @blushmimi @evans-dejong @nixisracing @lethalvenus @sainzluvrr @santanasaintmendes @idontknowlmaoo @sainzluvrr @tetetoni @ssprayberrythings @heavy-vettel @tashisgf @daniskywalkersolo @c-losur3 @lestappenslover @linoscrly (see yourself tagged when you don’t wanna be? or you want to be and don’t see yourself? send me an ask!)

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[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

[kings-comic]

yup, totally didn't get spamed with notifications either XD

BUT FR! YOUR ART IS SO FREAKING PRETTY!!! 😭😭😭Thanks you so much! I will cherish this forever!!!💕💕💕💕

My gift for @dearchose (comic found here) for the 2024 zelda au gift exchange <3333 I had so much fun making this for her <3 mwah mwah adorable designs fr (and I totally didn't read thru her entire comic and every fic posted either nope not at all)

[gabessquishytum]

I've been listening to the Epic musical and now an odyssey au won't leave my head.

There is something so dreamling coded about waiting 20 years with a bunch of suitors trying to become the new king but not accepting any of them because you know your husband is out there & getting seduced by multiple supernatural women and being offended because you're a married man, thank you very much

- 🍃

I think this is absolutely incredible. Just yes.

I feel like Hob is so Penelope coded, right? He's trying very hard to just get on with his life and rule the kingdom that Dream left behind, and also raise their son. He's just doing his BEST. And all these suitors turn up and move into his house, start eating his food and trying to marry him. Yuck. Of course he sits down in front of the loom every day and he's like "when I'm finished weaving this veil ill marry one of you :)) I promise :)) I'm just a really slow weaver okay :))" and then spends the entire night unpicking the day's work. No way he's marrying one of those gross bums.

Meanwhile Dream is having an absolutely hellish time, partly due to his own hubris but also just sheer bad luck. His boat sinks, he gets marooned multiple times, there are supernatural hotties trying to seduce him but all Dream wants to do is pine over Hob and try to build a raft to get home. He's doing his best, okay. He's just a sad wet cat.

When he finally makes it back to his kingdom he finds his house full of creepy men who all want to fuck his husband. Hob has the big old hunting bow laid across his lap and he looks like he really wants to use it, but Dream is the one who ends up efficiently massacring the room full of suitors. Since its been 20 years and Hob is a little suspicious of the man who just came in and murdered a bunch of people, he's like "how do I know that you're my husband and not just some imposter" and Dream is like "Well I'm the only one who knows that our marriage bed is carved out of a single tree because I did it with my own hands".

And then they catch up on the 20 years of fucking that they missed out on, and Hob probably never lets Dream leave the house ever again. Happily ever after, etc.

[centuryberry]

Imperial Harem Novel AU

Note: This wasn't really requested, but I've already summarized the Replanted AU, Abandoned Yue AU, and the Fae AU, so why not this one? This particular AU has a place in my heart - mostly because it's silly. Also because there was a plot twist in there that I never managed to address so I'm writing it out now.

Summary: When Wukong wakes up in a trashy imperial harem novel he'd been reading, he's horrified. Why? Because he's in the body of a character who shares his name - a tyrant king who causes a lot of pain and suffering to everyone including the female lead. Wukong decides that, since he's here for the time being, he was going to fix the other him's mistakes and leave the world better than he found it by the time he finds a way back home.

(Sounds easy enough as a concept, but Wukong can't act for his life and he has serious imposter syndrome. Oh well, time to spam the amnesia button and fake it 'til he makes it.)

Everyone Else's POV:

The Monkey King was a tyrant who either spilt blood or added to his large harem. He selfishly ignored the matters of the crown and contributed to the suffering of his people.

Queen RinRin is left to manage the throne's affairs on her own, frustrated by her husband's selfishness and destructive tendencies.

Consort Macaque is tormented by the endless string of lovers his husband takes. He grows resentful after so many heartbreaks and lets it out on the harem. Violently.

Concubine Shanzha heard the rumors about the king. She tries to keep her head low but she's somehow gained his attention. And she's scared of all the trouble that is going to come with it.

Unexpectedly, the Monkey King suffered a head wound and was bedridden for days. Perhaps it was an assassination attempt? No one knows.

It didn't matter because the Monkey King woke up without his memories. It caused a bit of chaos all around. Everyone expected even more trouble.

To everyone surprise, he didn't.

The king started to participate in state affiars. He was clumsy and inexpierienced, but he was still trying his best. RinRin finds herself charmed by this new version of her husband.

While he doesn't remember Macaque, the king has become far more considerate and had dissolved the harem. The consort's resentment and bitterness was all but forgotten.

While the majority of the harem disbanded, Shanzha had to stay because of her political hostage position. But...it wasn't that bad? The king was respectful and gave her a lot of agency. She could pray and shoot at the archery range when she pleased.

Everyone doesn't say it out loud, but they liked this new king better. They hoped he never got his memories back.

Wukong's POV:

He's freaking out y'all.

I mean, it's pretty obvious, but it still needed to be said. He was freaking out.

Wukong didn't finish reading the novel before he was yeeted into it. He got so frustrated that he tossed it away. He regrets it so much now.

Wukong is the sheer definition of faking it til you make it. He spammed the HELL out of his amnesia while he tried to get into the groove of his role as Emperor.

Wukong's initial goal was to survive and not have any one find out he was an imposter. Then, after seeing just how much the OG!Wukong fucked everything up, he took it upon himself to unfuck as much as he can.

Good news: Wukong is making more progress than he expected. He's taking some of the load off of RinRin's shoulders by participating in meetings; he's taking away the major stressor in Macaque's life by dissolving the harem; and he's trying to make Shanzha's time in the kingdom as bearable as possible.

Bad news: All three of them somehow took his actions as an invitation to start trying to seduce him. Don't get him wrong. They're all gorgeous and amazing - Wukong isn't blind - but he's not really their husband. He's just some loser who hijacked their real husband's body. So he puts on the "I don't know I'm dumb" vizor on and hopes to high hell that no one sees through it.

They eventually do, so Wukong elects to scream and run.

When Shanzha opened up to Wukong and told him about her life and of her niece, he cried. He was always a sucker for tragic backstories. Why didn't the novel talk about this?

Not long after, he requested demanded Shanzha's homeland to send over her niece. Shanzha was overwhelmed when he gave her the exciting news.

Since Wukong taking a ward was huge, the entire court were there to recieve Yue. It was actually the first time RinRin and Shanzha crossed paths. It was butterflies at first "hi" for the queen who was regretting not being more involved with the harem.

Shanzha and Yue's reunion was so tearjerking that Wukong had to take a minute. Then, it was revealed that Yue was actually Macaque's family too. The six ears kinda made it obvious. Plot twist after plot twist, why didn't the author of the trash novel focus on THIS?!

Wukong never saw a baby monkey before so he's practically exploding because of Yue's cuteness. He was super duper doting.

Wukong also saw a way out of the entire "making an heir" business, so he names Yue his heir and hopes that this stops his spouses from trying to jump him.

It doesn't. Wukong's "Baba" energy just made him even more irresistable. Sorry Wukong.

The three have also joined forces. Oh no.

The Plot Twist:

One day, little Yue blinks up at Wukong and asks him if he can pretty please take her to see the nearby waterfall together. When he does, Yue takes advantage of the waterfall being a natural white noise machine to talk to him.

Yue: "You're a transmigrator too, aren't you?" Wukong: 😮"Whaaaaaaa-?!"

Yup, Yue's a transmigrator. She also read the trashy novel - all of it. So she has all the deets, which Wukong begs off of her by helping her reach high places and giving her treats.

Everyone: Aww, he's so good with her Wukong: Oh wise senior, please share your wisdom Yue: Tell the cooks to make the Dan Dan Noodles extra spicy hot and I'll think about it

Yue also helps her fellow homie out by being a deterrent for romantic advances. Can't talk or do anything beyond PG around the baby.

Wukong tells Yue about his plan to run away after setting everything and leaving the kingdom to her and she bluntly tells him that it was a dumb plan.

Yue: "At least wait until I'm not a baby to abdicate."

Yue also (gently) breaks it to Wukong that he's stuck here. The him in his original reality is most likely dead.

So, after a bit of spiraling, Wukong approaches his spouses and tells them the truth.

It was a bit shocking and they (Macaque and RinRin) needed some time to come to terms with the revelation, but this doesn't deter the three of them in the slightest. They're all in love with this Wukong and want to spend the rest of their lives with him.

(By the time Yue comes of age, Wukong does accept their advances enough to give her cute little brothers lol.)

[smooshednetwork]

Intro!

I go by smoosh, smooshed or smooshy

I use he/him pronouns

I am a minor

I am a multishipper/multiheadcanon

I love every danganronpa character

I draw and also write fanfiction sometimes

Additional info/boundries

Please don't dm me unless we already know each other or I contact you first

I used to do commissions but my mental health made me need to stop

My ghost/undead au designs are by @cheezypicklezz (me and her are the parents of the ghost/undead au)

what you can and cannot use my art for:

Pfp: Yes! all my art is free to use as a profile picture, i would prefer credits if you did but it’s not at all necessary

Reposting: as long as i’m being credited and you are not claiming to be me then yes

Tracing: only if you’re not claiming it to be yours and i’m being credited then yes

Edit (video): same as the pfp rules

Edit (Photo): same as reposting rules

Artists that inspire me:

Milkkire on tiktok/ig (mostly their old work)

cheezypicklezz (tumblr) cheezy_picklezz (tiktok)

Blkventi/clowndots (mostly their old work too, idk if they still post tho. They have an inactive tiktok and ig they might still post on twt tho I’m not sure)

clarissasbakery on tumblr/tiktok/ig

Kinlist cause I’m stuck in 2020

Kiibo (danganronpa)

Chiaki (danganronpa)

Ultimate imposter (danganronpa)

Ibuki (danganronpa)

Marcy (amphibia)

King (the owl house)

[kings-comic]

Could we see ravio?

Of course I'll draw my favorite boy!!

A little showcase of him in other fits than usual too :3 and shee

Thanks for the ask ^^

[kursed-curtain]

The Party

[prev] [next]

---

Graham cut through the shrubbery, pushing past branches. He covered the slash on his chin with his cape. He didn't want to turn around, he didn't want to see how close they were behind him. He was going to run until he had absolutely lost them.

He kicked off his boots, then shifted so his fingers and toes were like a monkey's - long and excellent for climbing. He scrambled onto a branch, like a scared cat, and waited.

There was a search party out for him now. A large group of guards - most of them from the party - had been ordered to split up and look for the fae who had been impersonating the king. Graham kicked himself for not thinking of a backup plan, for when his human appearance slipped. He hadn't been impersonating the king, however. He was the king. He just didn't know how to explain that.

An orotund call rang through the silence. "Come out here and I'll show you what fakers like you deserve!"

Graham jumped, hoping she hadn't seen him. Thankfully, Rg.3 was simply talking to the air. She swung at a tree in a show of her strength - leaving a decently-sized dent in the bark. Graham winced.

Then, a plan came to him.

-+-

No.3 shook off her hand. Alright, maybe karate chopping a tree was a little over-the-top. Though, this was a trickster fae, probably keeping the king hostage in whatever faerie cage they had.

She jumped when she heard a strange voice, whispering, "You should leave now... It's dangerous out here."

She pulled out her sword, holding back her quavering voice. "Who are you?"

The longer she listened, the more she found it was a familiar voice - her voice. "I'm your inner conscience~ now, go. Leave. You should go to sleep, because you're simply really tired~"

No.3 huffed, "My conscience? I got my full healthy eight-hour sleep last night, I'll have you know. Besides, where in my brain would I ever leave without doing my duty?"

"Well, have you considered that your king was... Not as he seemed? As in, he showed himself as something else?"

"Are you saying King Graham was a liar?"

"Yes! I- wait, I mean-" Her conscience jumped to the other side of her head. "No, I meant that King Graham may have been... Scared of what people may have thought of him..." The voice quivered. No.3 pondered the thought. Strange, that had never come to her. The voice cracked, "That they might think of him a-as... As a burden. That he's just some stupid curse to them!"

The outburst sent nearby birds flying from their roosts. Then... came the sound of weeping. No.3 turned to the source to see her own head of curls - her own body, curled up on their knees and sobbing. Strangely, it was dressed in royal attire.

A clone, perhaps? No...

... An impersonator!

No.3 leapt at the fae, grabbing its cloak and pinning the creature to a nearby tree.

The fae revealed its disguise. Underneath was an uncanny, ethereal being. Beauty had its flaws.

"Where have you put King Graham?" No.3 gritted her teeth.

The changeling shivered, still sniffling from sobbing earlier. Its voice was lined with the ringing of twinkling bells. "I- I don't know how to tell you! I'm Graham, no one believes me!"

No.3's grip was wavering. She had to stay strong. "First, you lie multiple times to the kingdom. Then, you pretend to be my conscience! I don't think like that! I would never!"

"I'm- I apologize, I'm sorry for lying. I thought it would... get you to listen to my side," the changeling sighed, wiping away tears. "Please, hear me out. I wasn't lying about my story."

No.3's shoulders relaxed. She pondered the story more... A king, afraid of opinions, thinking himself a burden. Maybe even wanting to live up to expectations. She wondered why she assumed King Graham simply... Had all the confidence in the world. She thought all kings were high-standing souls that she could look up on - that she had to live up to and protect.

Then again, Graham wasn't old and haggard like the kings in stories. Graham was something new.

...And No.3 wanted to give that a try.

"Graham?"

Graham gasped, "Do you believe me now?"

"As long as you're the same goofy king I know!" She chuckled.

No.3 pulled Graham in for a hug and he winced. "Ow- your armor burns-" And No.3 immediately let go, quietly apologizing. Graham chuckled, "Yeah, metal and salt hurt... A lot. I think... I think I ate salt at the party. On the cake."

"The cake?"

"Yeah, it was strange. I even told the chefs and servants to separate all the salted items from the non-salted ones. Why would there be salt on the cake?"

"Hm, I can ask around the castle for you!" No.3 stood triumphantly, getting a giggle from Graham. "For now, let's get you back to the castle, sire."

The bushes rustled, and Graham hid behind No.3. Out came Royal Guard No.1 "Ah, Number 3. Did you catch any sign of the perpetrator?"

No.3 stammered. "I- sir I-"

Too late to explain - No.1 had spotted the swaying tail of a changeling. He unsheathed his sword. No.3 yelped, and Graham simply froze in his tears.

[thelastofhyde]

i. sea-day 1.

pairing. tourguide!joel miller x fem!reader. series synopsis. on the brink of undergoing a life-altering change, you runaway from your problems in the only way any sane person can: embarking on a mediterranean cruise. there you meet joel miller, a grumpy, private tour-guide, who just so happens to be tasked with touring you through each stop on your cruise. from greek goddesses to roman ruins, you have ten days to avoid your fate. maybe a frowning, southern, sex-on-legs of a man is just what the doctor ordered. chapter summary. as the ship sets sail, you search for help. at the bar, you encounter a familiar stranger. series warnings. no use of y/n, set in 2015, no apocalypse au, cruise!au, rom-com, enemies-ish to lovers, sunshine!reader, tour-guide!joel, unspecified age gap, depictions/discussions of grief, angst, fluff, a whole load of smut, a lot of cheesy stereotypical romance tropes bc i just wanna see joel not suffer ( too much )&lt;3 chapter warnings. alcohol, mentions of class/wealth themes, implications that the reader has underlining mental health issues, convenient plot-devices that would only ever happen in a rom-com bc this is fun silly fiction baby!, joel suffers from acute insuferable-bastarditis :( word count. 3.7k hyde’s input. let's all hold hands and agree to ignore the fact both parts so far have opened on the reader panicking in a bathroom, okay? maybe she's a stressed girlie with a flare of ibs, you don't know her life. feeling a little insecure abt this chapter and lowkey don't wanna post it, but i promise the actual fun begins in chapter two, where we finally get to see tourguide!joel in action. previous chapter - next chapter - series masterlist

“What time did you say you boarded?”

Your mother’s voice travels from where your phone lays, abandoned upon the bed, all the way into the decadent bathroom.

Eyes moving a mile-a-minute, as if you're rushing to take in every jaw-dropping detail.

There’s the sink area, a double-vanity that’s centred with an array of lotions and soaps, and overlooked by an overwhelmingly large mirror that makes up half the wall, lined with a golden hue of light. A shower, with glass curtains and enough room to fit your whole wardrobe in it. Then, there’s the bathtub you’re already envisioning yourself sinking into. Marble lines the floor, and the outer wall is made up of three window panes, gifting you a view of pure blue, the sea and the sky melting into one another across the horizon. It’s making you nauseous, this looming feeling of imposter syndrome the interior brings you.

You don’t belong in this, a fancy room designed for fancy people.

An iteration of your name, back on the bed, drags you away from your own troubled reflection.

“Seven,” you call out, inching your way back into the main area of the suite.

“In the morning?!” She’s just as shocked as the first time you answered her question, fifteen minutes ago, and the second time, seven minutes ago.

Humming in approval, you give a sweeping gaze over the plush carpeted floor, the wall-mounted television displaying the cruiseship’s logo, the king sized bed that’s calling out for you, seducing you with the promise of a mattress that won’t be stabbing at your back the whole night. As if on queue, there’s a sharp pain in your lower back, a lasting reminder of the hostel you’d found little rest in last night.

“Well, there goes my jealousy!” Lacklustre replies aside, your mother continues her ramblings, used to filling the void of conversation with the sound of her own voice. “Can you imagine? Me, awake at that time? You’ll be glad you’re travelling on your own, honey.” Usually, you admire the positive spin your mother tries to bring to life. Your being alone upon this trip, however, is not a topic you want her to address, much less find the good in. “I mean, I don’t think even your sister-”

“I think they’ve made a mistake,” you cut her off, eyes zeroing in on a pair of glass doors. Snatching the phone off the bed, you turn off the speaker and press it to your ear just in time to hear your mother’s confusion, questioning what you mean. Focus on those doors, you slowly make your way over to them. “The room,” you clarify, fingers curling around a handle to unlock it, prying the doors apart. A wave of salty fresh air, hits your face as you step out onto wooden decking. You find yourself upon a balcony, facing off into the deep blue distance. To your left, there’s two sun loungers and a glass coffee table, mounted by two champagne flutes and a simple welcome note sprawled out in black ink. “I think they’ve given me the wrong room.”

It’s the next best thing to a reasonable explanation you can find, no chance on earth you were ever listed to stay in such a suite. No, a room like this is meant for a wealthy businessman and his uptight wife to overindulge themselves on gold-trimmed furniture and a fur-lined bed for a week, in which they do everything but address the lipstick stains that keep lining his collars or the chauffeur who keeps himself parked between her legs.

You can already picture such a pair now, storming over to some poor, unsuspecting deckhand, red on both their faces as they begin to berate him over the fact they're in a cabin the size of a cupboard, with a communal restroom and a bunk barely fit for one person.

“Why? Is something wrong with it?”

“No,” it’s an answer you reluctantly give, more than aware of how ridiculous it sounds. “It’s… nice. Perfect. Too perfect, like I should feel lucky to stand in it, nevermind live in it for the next few days.”

It’s with caution that you glance over each shoulder, taking note of the seemingly never ending row of balconies that line the ship, a sizable gap between each one. Guts twisting a little at the thought, you peer ever so slightly over the right edge and are greeted with views of more balconies. Beyond that, there’s only blue. Waves crash into the ship’s side and bounce off in white foam. You renew the distance between you and the ledge, unable to stop yourself from glancing both ways, confirming there’s no neighbouring balcony that finds itself occupied.

Then bend down, clasping a hold of one of the champagne flutes.

You take your first sip like it’s a crime, wearily, eyes darting back and forth, waiting to be caught in the act and dragged out of this room, down to whatever poverty loft you really belonged in.

Or, maybe they’d just toss you overboard, rid themselves of any possible hassle. People go missing all the time at sea, right? People go missing all the time on cruises. You’d just be another blip in the system, an error that can be overwritten with a simple-

“I can hear you thinking through the phone, sweetie.”

You take another sip, and let a weight fall off your chest, dragging in a breath large enough to make up for the moment or two you’d stopped breathing. “I’m just… tired. Don’t worry, I’m perfectly fine. No big freak out on it’s way, again.”

“Honey, you know how me and your father feel about you calling it a freak-” she must be able to hear your eye roll through the phone, cutting herself off before she can keep going. “Just, try and enjoy this trip, okay? Maybe you’re in that room because where you’re supposed to be. Maybe you’ve been awarded some free upgrade, like that time your dad got bumped up to business class!”

Bless her for trying, though she may fail. It’s enough to bring a smile to your face.

You swallow back what remains of the bubbled liquid.

Through the phone, you hear a door burst open and the entrance of a loud, excited little voice. Something akin to granny rings down the line, and it’s enough to have you frozen where you stand, bones rigid and unable to move. Something seems to smack into the microphone, a rustling of fabric as you envision your mother making room for little limbs on her lap.

“Hey, my little munchkin! How was soccer?” You can’t make out what the voice tells your mother, heart too busy beating louder than any drum, inching its way further up your wind pipe and threatening to choke you on it. “Guess who I’ve got on the phone?” The tiny voice squeals out your name, bile joins your heart inside your throat. Maybe this is how you find out you get seasick. “Do you wanna say hi-”

“Mum, I, uh… I’ve gotta go,” you’re eyeing the remaining glass on the table, the rising bubbles enticing you to hurry up, drink it before it goes flat. “I should go find the help desk, get this room thing sorted out.”

“Just a second, let E-”

“I’ll call you later,” you hang up.

You’re left with just the raging waters below, a caw from seagulls up above. Eyes slipping shut, you pull in a deep breath and push out a silent plea for that sting in your eyes to be from the salt in the air, not a set of unfallen tears. A few more breaths and it feels safe enough to open your eyes again, glancing down as your phone vibrates in your hand.

Two texts, each from your mother.

09:38 - She says hi, and that you better bring her back a cool souvenir. 09:39 - Doctor Anderson says she’s showing improvement and they’re finally starting to get somewhere. Just thought you’d want to know x

Giving in to temptation, you snatch up the champagne glass, bring it up to your lips and- pause, interrupted as you make eye contact with a man one balcony over. He’s older, a well-rounded gut fit into a light blue shirt and tailored trousers. With a rolex on one wrist and set of bright white teeth smiling right at you, there’s no mistaking he belongs in one of these suites.

You wonder what he thinks of you and your frayed sweater, no jewellery on your wrists.

He nods, politely, and raises his own glass towards you. A silent cheer, a recognition that you’re both here, living life in luxury. You meet it, raise your own glass, and try to smile as brightly as him.

Then knock back your second drink and saunter back inside.

“Miss, there’s been no mistake.”

In spite of it being an excuse to hang up, you stay true to your word.

Come early noon, you’re standing within the help centre. Against all odds, accidental nap and wild goose chase upon the ship deck be damned, you’ve found what you were looking for.

Or, well, an older woman with sweet smile on her face and a squinted nametag pinned to her chest found it, pointed you in the direction of the ship’s atrium. What you’re looking for is the Purser’s Office, dear.

“See? The booking under your name lists you as part of our excelsior guests.” The desk clerk turns her screen towards you, acrylic nail pointing at your booking information. Sure enough, in bold letters, your full name accompanied by a golden badge at the end. Excelsior Status, checkmarked and approved by the cruise. “This grants you access to one of our excelsior suites and all private excelsior lounges.”

In all honesty, you’re tuning her out a little.

You don’t mean to, sincerely, but you’re just so caught up in reading both your name and excelsior suite, over and over and over again, that you forget to really listen, mind running just a few seconds behind the speed of her mouth.

When you finally process what she’s saying, all you can manage is dumbstruck look on your face and a muttered, “oh.”

Paper rustles as your hands wring, the pristine pamphlet you’d been flicking through to fill the time as she’d searched up your details now rumpled, thin white cracks of paper peaking out beneath printed ink.

“I also see that you’ve added the excelsior tour package onto your booking, though I’m willing to change that for you, if you’d prefer signing onto one of our team tours instead.” Confused by her offer, you glance down and read over the pamphlet’s title- All-Aboard Tour Trips, Fun for all the Family! “Would you like to hear what your current tour package grants you?”

“If,” as if you’ve not embarrassed yourself enough with your cluelessness towards your own booking, your voice cracks under the pressure of being used, more squeak than actual intelligible words. You swallow back the lump of shame in your throat and push through. “If you don’t mind, please. This, uh- The ticket, it was a gift, so I’m just a little out of the loop of what’s been booked for me.”

“Not at all! So, the excelsior tour package gives you access to your own private tour-guide, for all seven stops we’ll be making on this cruise!” Already, you feel a little queasy at the thought. A private tour, no one but you and some stranger. It’s not exactly your dream scenario. “Your guide’s purpose won’t just be to walk you through all the memorable sites, but to curate your visits to your liking, helping you explore foreign land with a familiar taste. Where the tours in team are restricted to allocated timeslots and a set route of sites to visit, having a private tour-guide grants you the privilege of exploring where you want, for however long you want. The private tour also provides more time for you at each stop, as your timeslot to board will be the latest available, making your whole trip less of rush and more of a thrill.”

The clerk, without a doubt in your mind, is quoting a script she’s already said hundreds of time- word for word, beat for beat. Yet her voice is animated, her smile is kind, and you admire her a little for getting through it without a single laugh at the corniness of it all.

You, however, fail the challenge, glancing off to your side and biting back a giggle that you hope she takes no note of. The last thing you want is for her to mistake the laughter as directed towards her.

Weighing your options, you nervously ask, “but, you could change me over to a team tour?”

She says of course, with a smile that doesn’t waver, and the tension in your shoulders lessens, the ice cold feeling of inconveniencing her melting away at her warmth.

Her nails clack as she types away on her keyboard. A double click and then, a hiss. She’s no longer smiling, a grimace taking it place. “I’m sorry, but all of our tours are fully booked.”

“Oh. That’s- It’s okay.”

“But, I could add you to the waiting list! If there’s any cancelations for any of the stops, you’ll be the first to know. This won’t affect your excelsior tour package, so either way you’ll have some kind of guide.”

With nothing to lose, you figure why not and let her throw your name in the metaphorical hat.

Mid-typing away, eyes glued to her screen, you watch as her brows shoot up. “Oh, while I’ve got you here, there’s one more thing. With our excelsior guides, it’s customary that they meet with you on the first night, to touch base on simple things, like your interests or any goals for this trip, and to plan out tomorrow’s official first stop, which is in Santorini. Your guide has left you this, detailing where you’ve to meet him.”

With renewed hesitation, you grab at the folded note she slips over the desk. It’s small, with half an inked fingerprint burnt into the top left corner.

As you thank her for her help and bid her goodbye, she interrupts you before you can turn to leave.

“I know private tours can seem daunting but, you’re in good hands. Joel will take care of you, he’s our top-rated guide.”

The note remains folded as long as you can control your curiosity, which appears to be only until you’re back on the deck, sun shinning directly in your eyes and forcing you to squint as you read over faded blank ink.

10 pm, the Tipsy Byson bar.

Below that, in a bolder blue ink, wear something green for me to find you, JM.

You’re awfully overdressed, and painfully aware of it.

The Tipsy Byson is nestled between the arcade and the casino, a balance of childlike shrieks harmonizing over outraged yelling of men cheated out of their hands. Brown wood lines just about every inch of the place, from the walls, to the tables, to the bar. There’s an outrageously large Stars and Stripes flag hanging on the wall, and memorabilia of all things Texas Roadhouse. The place is themed, down to the cowboy hat that sits atop the bartender’s head, and clearly everyone is aware of this, decked out in scruffed up boots and worn out denim vests.

Everyone but you, dark green silk clinging to you in the shape of a laced-back midi dress, dainty black heels tucked into the footrest of the barstool you occupy.

It’s the only green thing you brought and- wear something green for me to find you- you’d had no choice.

It was a quarter to ten when you got there, earlier than you were requested, but a gentle buzz of something shooting through your nervous system left you impatient, unable to wander the ship’s halls any longer.

It was fine, you figured, gave you a chance to get a drink, cool your nerves a little. Sticking with the theme of green, you’d yelled over the line music for a midori sour, please, and even cracked a little smile at the cute bartender.

By twenty past ten, you’re still alone, no tour-guide in sight, and your glass is empty, a sole ice-cube all that remains. You order another glass, given him another smile, and return your eyes to the entryway as you sip back the taste of the dewy melon goodness.

The doors opened, your hopes rise and- a couple walks through the door, adorably dressed in matching jackets.

Another sip.

The doors open again, this time you watch as a few women walk in, party hats and bachelorette signs dripping off them.

Half your drink, gone again.

Two, three, four more times the door opens and you watch as strangers filter in and out, pretending you don’t notice the way some of their eyes linger on you, sticking out like a sore thumb.

It’s as you throw back the last sip of your cocktail, eyes catching the time- 22:36-, that you watch a grin overtake the bartender’s face.

The door shuts with a slam, buried beneath the layers of stomping feet across the dance floor and the twang of a country song, yet you hear it all the same, twisting in the stool.

A man stands by the entry, salt-and-peppered hair a little tousled and a scowl etched into his forehead. He moves like water, slipping through the cracks in the crowded bar with minimal effort. All the while, eyes seem to follow him, the occasional head turning in his direction. He spares no glances, to anyone.

Instead, he’s staring right at you.

And heading your way, frown and all.

There’s something in his face that feels familiar, and you swear that this is not the first time you’d stared into those eyes. Broad, scruffy facial hair, his irritation as some drunk girl slams into him so palpable, you almost taste it on your tongue.

You mumble something to the bartender, a request for another drink, a parched feeling stirring in your loins.

He’s inching closer, and closer, and closer- and, only as he’s a mere three bar stools away from you, do you realise who he is.

You’re in the way.

Signore Miller.

The rude man from the airport!

God, you can’t wait to see what this is about. He must recognise you, must feel the shame licking at his wounded ego, driving him to come over, apologise, beg for forgiveness to a stranger he unnecessarily berated.

“Look what the cat dragged in!” It’s not Signore Miller that speaks, nor is it you. It’s the bartender, arms crossing over his chest, smirk widening on his face. “Thought you said last season was your last!”

“You know me,” his eyes are still glued to you, an intense stare, even as he replies. There’s so little space between you now, you manage to notice the wrinkles in his flannel shirt. You choose to ignore the fact it’s green. “Ain’t no good at stayin’ away from the things I hate.”

“Wasn’t what you were saying at the staff party last year, Mr. Blubber-face. Took two whiskeys to get you crying ‘bout how you were gonna miss the cruising life.”

Another midori sour lands your way, yet you don’t even manage a single sip of it before he’s opening his mouth.

“Well look at you, all dressed up with nowhere to go,” his eyes still pierce into your own and, this time, it is you he’s talking to.

You’d have half the mind to throw your drink on him, if it weren’t for the fact you’re too busy taking a stabilizing gulp out of it, a sweetness to counter-attack his sour persona.

“Excuse me?!” You final sputter out, face burning too hot and pride too scorned to begin to feel even more out of place.

He seems unfazed by your outrage, turning away from you to acknowledge his friend behind the bar at last. “Do me a favour, Luke, don’t give her too much to drink.” Condescending tone perfectly intact, Signore Miller doubles down on your initial impression of him: an absolute asshole. “Last thing I need is to spend all day draggin’ around some prissy hungover diva.”

The man- Luke- scoffs back a laugh, shaking his head in bewilderment. “Quit teasin’ the poor girl, ‘fore she runs for the hills and ruins your five-star rating.”

An uncomfortable feeling creeps down your spine. It’s cold and alarming, and has your straightening your back, sitting a little tenser in your seat, realization rising in you like the dawn.

It can’t be.

He can’t be-

He’s stepping all in your space, face leaning down till his mouth is at the level of your ear. He doesn’t touch you, doesn’t even come close to it, yet there’s goosebumps littering your arms and hairs standing at the back of your neck.

Like touching a live wire, his proximity feels electric.

“Best be on that deck by 7 am, darlin’, or I’ll be dockin’ without ya.”

“Wait, you’re-”

“Joel, tourguide. At your service.” He’s pulled back, just to thrust his hand in your face. By the time you reach to shake it, he’s retracting it, that grating quirk in his lips moving higher up his cheek. “Oh, and do yourself a favour. Wear somethin’ a little more… practical. Santorini ain’t the place for dainty heels like those.”

You knock back the rest of your drink moments after he leaves, only to find Luke’s already placed a fourth glass at your side.

“Our little secret,” he faux-whispers, pressing a finger to his pursed lips. “Besides, you look like you could use it.”

Signore Miller.

Joel, tourguide.

Joel Miller.

He’s already making your trip unbearable, and it’s hardly begun.

+ extra hyde. sorry if that was a little boring it was a necessary part to get the ball moving, i promise chapter two gets right into it. again, updates to this fic happen every other friday! i'm bad at describing spaces, so if anyone is curious to know what reader's suite looks like, here are some reference pics:

taglist. @auteurdelabre

[selfaware-bungou-stray-dogs]

Self-Aware! BSD x SAGAU Imposter AU Crossover ideas. ADA Edition

Previous posts: [I] [II ] [IV] [V] [VI] [VII] [VIII] [IX]

🐯 Turns out, Nakajima Atsushi's ability had an interesting quirk. It makes tigers see Atsushi as one of them. Moreover, Atsushi is viewed as the dominant tiger. So, Atsushi can command tigers. He will order Rishboland Tigers to attack people, that hunt you down during Imposter Hunt. Will also bring you Rishboland Tigers cubs to play and cuddle.

📒 Kunikida Doppo will always stay near you. He will take care of you and insists on following the schedule. It actually helps you, because, you didn't have a peaceful routine when you were in Teyvat.

🩺 Yosano using her ability, so captured people of Teyvat can be punished again and again. She helps others during questioning.

Always near you, checking your health. Will buy you pretty clothes.

🌨️ Junchirou Tanizaki will use his ability to slowly drew people, who hunted you insane. Will create special illusions for you (favorite place, person). Will cook anything you want.

👩🏻 Naomi Tanizaki will be a spy. Will gather intel on 'Creator', on Teyvat people. Will keep you company, bringing gossip.

🍵 Kirako Haruno will be another spy. Will make you green tea.

🛏️ Turns out, Tayama Katai's ability works on Ruin machines of Khaenri'ah and King Deshret's mechanisms. Katai will make them attack capitals. It actually makes Teyvat people question the power of 'Creator'. If they can be overpowered by 'Imposter's' follower, are they really all-powerful?

🐄 Kenji Miyazawa is kept away from Teyvat. There is a possibility, that he will go on a rampage the moment he got there. Instead, he stays near you. He Will offer to do some gardening together.

🐰 Kyouka Izumi is also staying close to you. She is waiting for the right time to strike. She will ask Kouyou and Verlaine for more combat lessons. 

🕵🏻 Ranpo Edogawa makes a name for himself in Teyvat. After he became famous as a detective, he will start framing people. He will frame Ninguang for tax invasion, Kamisato siblings for slavery and Childe for murder.

Watch mystery TV series with you. Will share his candies with you. Will try to make you smile.

👘🗡️ Fukuzawa Yukichi became full-time bodyguard for you. Will drink tea with you and play with tiger cubs Atsushi brought. If needed, Fukuzawa will become an assassin again.

🪢🦀 Dazai Osamu is using all his intelligence to destroy Teyvat nations. He is planning to choke 'Creator' with his own hands. 

He will stay close to you. Dazai will tell you jokes, will cuddle with you and do anything he can, to make you smile.

______

Tag list: @withered-blossoms

[luneymoony]

The Butterfly's Effect (Prologue)

a SAGAU!Imposter! AU x Shinobu!Reader where the reader is.. well, shinobu kocho from demon slayer.

CW: mentions of death, swearing, slight mentions of dissecting? Major Spoiler Warning for the anime only watchers out there! (imsosorryomfg) WC: 1.4k Notes: reader will be shinobu, like, literally. english isnt my first language so i apologize if theres any grammar, spelling mistakes or edits. :)) i've been obsessed with crossovers and sagaus so why not put them together? Photo is not mine!

...

It's so dark.

What happened?

I can't remember anything..

Wait..

Am I.. Dead?

~

The final battle of the Demon slayer corps has finally come to an end. The demon king, Muzan has finally succumbed to his demise after more than ten thousand years of living as a demon. The upper moons were all defeated and Japan is now demon free.

Of course, everything comes with a price. As many people strived to defeat the demon king, many also died in the process. Tomioka Giyuu, and Shinazugawa Sanemi, The remaining Hashiras of the corps.

Rengoku Kyojiro, Iguro Obanai, Kanroji Mitsuri, Tokito Muichiro, Himejima Gyomei, Kocho Shinobu.

These were the pillars that had lost their lives in the battlefield. Many people lost something in that battle. Their lives, their loved ones, their abilities. It will take time to heal from these wounds. Emotionally, physically and mentally.

Kanao looked at the butterfly hairpin on her hand, her mind drifts off to the insect hashira and how she died, how she was getting absorbed by that vile and disgusting demon. How she could've saved her if she was more quick enough.

Tears prickled in the corners of her eyes, holding the butterfly hairpin more firmly and bringing it close to her chest. She misses them so much. She can only pray that they will be reincarnated to a world free of demons. A world where they could be happy.

A world that they can live in freely.

~

Your eyes flutters open. Your head was spinning and the first thing your eyes see is the clear, bright blue sky. You blinked rapidly to clear your blurring vision. You moved your head a bit to take in your surroundings.

You were laying on a soft patch of grass in the middle of nowhere. A large tree giving you enough shade to block your form from the sun's bright, and burning glow.

Slowly you sat up, groaning while doing so. You don't remember laying or being here when you were last conscious. The last thing you remembered was the sound of your sword dropping to the ground and-

Wait.

That's right, you were fighting uppermoon two. By what you can gather, you had died and had been absorbed by him.

But.. what happened after that? You certainly didn't remember getting yourself teleported to this unknown place, in fact, this wasn't even where you were when you had fought the bastard. And aren't you supposed to be dead?

Your thoughts were interrupted when there's a sudden noise coming from behind the tree. The loud noise startling you from your train of thoughts. You stood up —albeit a bit slowly— and noticed that you still had your sword with you, and your clothes were still intact. Your hand went to the back of your head to feel the butterfly hairpin that is strangely still there.

Choosing to save the questions that were racing in your mind for later, you feel the hilt of your sword and carefully and quietly approached the matter behind the tree.

You stopped once your eyes spot the.. Unusual looking creature? It looked a bit human, with arms, legs, a head and a mask covering its face. Weird ears. It also looked like it has something on its mask.

The creature seemed didn't seem to notice you or your presence, not until you stood in front of it did it froze. Its noises stopped too. It looked completely frozen by the sight of you.

Your hand on your sword's hilt had tighten, although it didn't show any signs of attacking you nor does it seemed armed, you were still very wary of it.

It doesn't look like a demon, well, not the usual demons. It is sure a humanoid creature with just some weird ears but it doesn't seem harmful. You also noticed that it had a briefcase from its side.

"What are you?"

Those are the first words you have spoken ever since you had woken up. Your voice was hoarse, your mouth and throat felt dry like the dessert. But you aren't giving in to the tempting urge to drinking whatever liquid is near to you until this creature answered you your question.

Although you did feel a bit stupid to just ask this random creature a question, when you could've just killed it right then and there for its unusual appearance. However.. you weren't going to attack it until it attacks you first. Plus, there were something off about this one.

Your gentle gaze and soft movements startled the Unusual Hilichurl. It couldn't get its eyes off of you, you looked like you simply didn't exist. It usually payed no mind to the others and the mortals that passed by. Taking no interest in them whatsoever.

But when its eyes laid on you, it froze. The hilichurl had no idea why but it felt like its about to drop to its knees before your presence. And that, it did.

Your eyes blinked in surprise at the kneeling hilichurl in front of you. Truth to say, your eyes were keen and careful to whatever movement its doing so as you were almost about to unsheathe your sword, it just dropped to its knees and bowed.

"What are you doing?"

The creature didn't moved an inch, it just kneeled and didn't say anything. It didn't even answer your first question.

You were even more curious by this sudden behavior of this mysterious creature. You wanted to investigate and possibly might dissect it for later. Yet you couldn't ignore your stomach that was begging for food, and your dry throat.

Seeing as this creature didn't want to seem to cooperate, and it most likely probably couldn't, you let it be, as you need to do more important things. Like finding food and water to prevent yourself from dying of thirst or starvation.

You just took once more glance at it and turned your heel to walk away. To your surprise, you have spotted a small river. You walked towards it and removed your butterfly patterned haori to properly drink it.

The water's very refreshing, and it felt like heaven when the liquid made contact to your mouth, and down to your throat. Not to mention, the water also tastes quite good. Its most likely because you haven't really drank much. Wonder how long you were laying in that area?

After drinking, you had put your haori back on and went to explore this unfamiliar place that you're in. Maybe you could find some sort of village or town here that would invite you in.

You looked around for a bit and noticed that theres something in the distance that caught your eye, was it a city perhaps? it looked huge, there were windmills that you could see clearly from this place. Maybe there'll be some people there that can help you.

The cool breeze of the air and the heat of the sun felt so much like home to you. It has been awhile since you felt this relaxed with such environment. The scenery, the relaxing atmosphere, it felt so nostalgic.

"This is nice."

You couldn't help but speak fondly out loud. You smiled to yourself, a real and genuine smile. Not the fake smile that you usually wore to hide your true self, but a relaxed, and actual calm smile. This sense of tranquility almost feels too foreign to you that you couldn't help but sigh and close your eyes.

Even if you didn't see it, even if you weren't there, you could sense that the uppermoon two had been defeated by your tsuguko, and Inosuke. You couldn't help but chuckle at the thought of the cocky bastard arrogantly mocking you from your "worthless" attempt to kill him.

It was only when the poison taking effect did you laugh at that fucker's melting face. He really did underestimate you huh? Who knew that a simple butterfly can unleash so much hell with a single flap of its wings? It was truly pathetic trying to see the little shit's futile attempt regenerate its head.

Once the uppermoon had been defeated and is now entering the gates of hell, you were triumphant of his demise. You couldn't stand seeing his stupid face and seeing it melting to the ground unleashed a wave of satisfaction in you.

You shook your head and chuckled to yourself, focusing on your only goal for now as you continued your way to the city with a slight and satisfied curl of your lips.

The windmills of this city was getting clearer to your vision, as you were getting nearer and nearer to the city, a voice suddenly calls out.

"Stop right there!"

You froze and stopped in your tracks. Was it another one of those creatures that you met at that tree? but this one can talk and- wait a minute. Are they speaking in a foreign language?

Where exactly did you wake up in?

~~~

hihihiii its finally hereee

i've been procrastinating this for a week now becuz ive been so busy but here it is! the amount of ideas i have for this is akkakkahdjas

but ive finally managed to put myself together to make this! i really hope u all like it :,)

lmk if anyone wants me to continue this, the prologue is slightly boring and messy at first but ill try to make it readable as possible.

Edit: i forgot to put a spoiler warninggg :C im so sorry anime only watchers akcsksksk

[multicolour-ink]

Mario x Anastasia AU

(no references to the real life Anastasia! Just the movie)

- Mario and Luigi are princes of a kingdom. When they are young, they are each gifted small music boxes - a sun and a moon respectively.

- One day, Bowser attacks their kingdom to conquer, and take its power for himself.

- King Pio stays behind to fend his forces off, and is killed in the attack. Meanwhile, Mia manages to get the twins as far away as possible, before she too is killed by Bowser's forces.

- The twin princes rush to a train that will take them to safety. Mario pushes Luigi on first, but is unable to hold onto Luigi's hand, and he falls, hitting his head and falling unconscious. Luigi screams as the train carries him away from his brother.

- Years later, Mario (now 18 and going by the name "Maurice") grows up in an orphanage, with only one thing that is his own - a small box in the shape of a sun, that plays the most beautiful music. He doesn't remember who he is, other than this box is very important to him, and he feels like he has been missing something...

- Determined to find out who he is, "Maurice" sets off on a journey, with only the music box and an anonymous message inscribed on the back of it: "Nothing can hurt us,"

- On his journey, "Maurice" comes across two con artists, Toad and DK, who are looking to pass off an unsuspecting young man as the Prince, and claim the award from Prince Luigi.

- Along the way though, "Maurice" ends up growing closer to Toad and DK, and both con artists start to being to rethink their scheme...

- Meanwhile, Prince Luigi has grown up in the safety of the Mushroom Kingdom (where the train took him) and has been living with his uncles who had already took up residence there long before. His friend, Princess Peach and the ruler of said kingdom, offers support, but he is far from consolable...

- Every year, on the anniversary of his brother's disappearance, Luigi looks up at the stars, and holds his moon shaped music box, praying that he will be united with his brother again one day.

* * *

*points below discuss the AU's ending. Some spoilers for the Anastasia movie*

- By the time the odd trio reach the Mushroom Kingdom, Toad, having by now had a change of heart, truly believes "Maurice" is actually the missing Prince Mario, and encourages him to see Prince Luigi.

- However, upon seeing "Maurice", Luigi flies into a rage. Having been tricked numerous times in the past by imposters claiming to be his brother, the Prince is at his breaking point. He comments that it is especially cruel that this imposter looks so much like his brother, and dismisses them.

- Shaken up by the disastrous reunion, "Maurice" realises that Toad and DK were just using him to con Prince Luigi and get the reward money. Furious, "Maurice" proclaims he never wants to see them ever again, and runs off in tears. More lonely and broken than ever...

- Toad seeks out Prince Luigi and "kidnaps" him in his kart, begging the Prince to listen and meet with "Maurice". Toad reveals he worked under their parents as a very young toad, and witnessed the two of them escaping with their mother. More hopeful, but still unsure, Luigi agrees to meet with "Maurice" in the fire flower field.

- Meanwhile, DK also corners "Maurice" and attempts to apologise for the way that they used him. DK reveals that he too is actually a Prince. After Bowser lost track of the missing Prince Mario, he sought to attack other kingdoms, in order to gain and build up an army once again. Even in his weakened state, Bowser still managed to do a lot of damage. This left the other kingdoms, including the Kong Kingdom, in a financial crisis. DK shamefully had to turn to being a con artist, as this proved to be the easiest way to make money to support his struggling kingdom.

- Hearing all of this, "Maurice" feels the need to forgive them.

- Toad unites with the pair and tells "Maurice" that Luigi is willing to talk to him. Shaking with fear and excitement, "Maurice" agrees to meet the Prince.

- The two beings, the Lonely Prince and the Lost Soul, meet in the fire flower field. "Maurice" reveals his music box, with the inscription on the back.

"Where did you get that?", asks Prince Luigi shakily.

"I've had it since as long as I can remember...", says "Maurice". "Please. Just tell me. Who am I?"

Luigi, with shaking hands, reveals his music box and an inscription on the back

"as long as we're together."

- And then in that moment, both men are overcome with emotion. They pull each other tight, hugging and crying, finally reunited after all this time.

- But soon after Bowser returns to claim both Princes, and Mario and Luigi have to team up together again to stop him! All is then at peace, and the brothers and their new friends continue to live peacefully 🙂