#one more chapter

[wolfstardaughter-jj]

[riotwritesthings]

Sloppy kisses with the winter soldier mask ON have been achieved. Personal goal accomplished ☺️

[talesofkai]

I want to keep reading my little fantasy romance book so badly but I am cursed to be a creature that requires sleep

[saryasy]

Season of Hope (After the Flood)

Buck/Eddie, post s07, eddie diaz centric, T, No Warnings

Chapter Five:

“I never did come out," Hen says, and he knows it's to change the subject and take the heat off him, so he sends her a grateful nod. “Just brought my girlfriend home one time and that was that." “I did," Ravi joins in. “I did the whole angsty teenager thing and tried to hide it but when I told my parents after throwing up two different times, they shrugged and said they already knew." "I technically didn't come out either,” Buck says around a mouthful of bread. Hen looks at him with disgust. "I think the whole soot on the mouth thing gave you away, Buckaroo.” "Yeah,” Chimney says, "you didn't need to say a thing after that,” he adds with a grimace. "Yeah, Buck," Eddie chimes in, “not all of us are lucky enough to be kissed out of the closet."

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[theartsharki]

Jawbreaker Ch.8: Their Moment

“I just have to go back out there, knock on his door and tell him that I love him! Simple as that. He was brave enough to do it, I can do the same.” He spoke to himself. Glancing into the mirror mounted on the wall he preened his hair. Checking his teeth and breath before taking a few more calming breaths to gather himself. Swinging the door open he was stopped in his tracks as Eddie appeared on the other side. He stood there nervously and looked just as startled as Richie felt.

“Oh Jes- You startled me.” Richie began, regaining his composure from the initial scare. Eddie’s mouth quivered into a relieved smirk, crinkling his dark eyes .

“Full discretion, I could hear you talking through the door before you opened it…” Eddie said.

What will happen when you open door number three Richie?

Read it here!

[ri-afan]

My stomach holding me at knifepoint: eat, dammit, or I’m tanking your blood sugar

Me, singing along to the radio while knitting and reading: one more song/chapter/row first

[sarahjtv]

My Hero Academia Chapter 429 Spoiler Talk: The Penultimate Chapter

So here it is. The second to last chapter of My Hero Academia. Unless Horikoshi gives us a sequel series like Naruto: Shippuden, this and the next chapter is the last we'll get manga content about MHA. Well, at least until Horikoshi gives us another Ultra Analysis book or an art book with extra information. It's still hard to believe honestly. I don't know if I'll be able to accept that our beloved series is ending until it actually does. Let's see what Horikoshi-sensei gives us until then. Also, my health isn't 100% today, so I apologize if my writing sounds messy:

First off is our last Weekly Shonen Jump and Chapter color pages! They are absolutely beautiful celebrating both the 10th anniversary and My Hero Academia as a whole. Everyone is smiling and it's a wonderful sight to see. I won't show them here because I think they deserve to be seen with your own two eyes. Let's just say that I love them and I can't wait to get the HQ versions of them when the official release comes out. Just know that you can tell Horikoshi put a lot of love into these pages.

From here on out, I think I'm just going to talk about what I thought of the chapter because I'm not 100% down to type everything out tonight. Sorry about this:

I think the chapter was another solid one, though it somehow still doesn't feel like the series is ending yet for me.

I'm glad we got to see Ochako and Deku talk about not being able to save their respective villains because we all know how badly this was haunting them. Neither of them would have been able to move on and genuinely smile again until they got that all out to someone who understood. Thankfully, they have each other 💚💖. I'm also really glad Deku told Ochako she was his hero and let her take her hand. This is the closest we'll probably get to an actual romantic confession from either of them unless Horikoshi does something for them in the last chapter. The thing is, it works because this wasn't the time for a love confession. This was a time for two broken people to talk their trauma out and get reassurance from someone close to them.

Really sad to hear that Himiko Toga did die. Granted it was from Ochako's dialogue and we didn't see any panel with her body drawn, but we can really only take her word for it now. Horikoshi could absolutely pull a fast one on us and show a glimpse of her alive in the final chapter. However, I think it's safe to say that she is dead and that honestly sucks.

I love the slice-of-life panels we get of the rest of the kids and seeing Aizawa smile is beautiful! He's so proud of his kids 🥹.

Monoma getting a statue at the school and bragging about it is fucking hilarious 🤣! He honestly deserves it though because the whole world would've been dead if not for him. Deku better get a statue too or else I'm going to throw hands.

Eri excitedly singing at Aoyama's farewell party is the most wholesome thing I've seen in a very long time and I truly hope she achieves her dream someday 🤍! Make her the best idol in the world, Horikoshi!

Finally, there's that mysterious man we saw a few chapters ago. We still don't know his name, but we're told he was abused and abandoned by his family because he has a mutant Quirk similar to how Eri's Quirk in the sense that neither of their Quirks were inherited by their family's DNA. He looked like he was going to walk down a similar path as Tenko, but the old lady who first ignored Tenko many years back found this new man and finally offered him a hand thanks to Izuku's inspiration. This is sort of a redemption for the old lady. I know that she was a catalyst for why Tenko became who he became, but I think this is a start for her to start over at least. Thankfully, I think this man is going to be ok.

I remember reading the interviews Horikoshi did over the past week and one of the things he said he wanted to express was that even someone having your back is heroism. Someone who can do something so simple as reaching their hand out when someone is in need is a hero to that person. You can tell that that is what Horikoshi is telling us here. He also said that making us cry was an important part of the story too because it's how he wants us to connect with it, so I expect to shed tears next week.

So, yeah. That's the second to last chapter of the main My Hero Academia manga. It still doesn't feel real to me. The final page of the chapter left things open-ended, so I would not be surprised if we got a time skip of some sort in the final chapter. I honestly thought that Horikoshi was setting up one more villain for the kids to fight with that mysterious man, but it was wrapped up in a very simple yet poignant way. I will agree that it feels rushed and that there's something missing, but I can't pinpoint what. Horikoshi's been writing and drawing this manga for 10+ years at this point, so I can't entirely blame him for wanting to finish things up. However, I'm a little more nervous about him sticking the landing for the ending. While I think he can still do it, I've seen too many mangaka end their story on a bad note for one reason or another. Our best bet is that he revises or adds some things to make the chapter better in the volume version. I'm going to do my best to keep my optimism alive for the next few weeks.

I honestly can't begin to accurately predict how the manga will end. I could see it ending with the kids continuing their lives at UA, at graduation, or as pro-hero adults maybe with families of their own. Honestly, anything goes. Part of me wants to be here when the chapter might get leaked next Wednesday, but another part of me wants to wait until next Sunday for the official VIz release so I can read and cry together with everyone else. I think I am going to try to do the latter and then write some kind tribute to honor the series, but I may or may not be out of town next week, so I'll have to see about that.

One more chapter left.

[purple--queen]

"one more chapter" I say to myself, while my head hurts, my eyes burn & every cell in my body scream "go to sleep"

[lis4ux]

Chapter 7 I’m In

"Would it have mattered if I went," he asks. "Back then. If I'd have stayed, what would have happened?"

Kiara's expression deepens in her confusion. "I don't, I don't know for sure," she admits, tucking a curl behind her ear. "Things were just so...intense."

JJ nods, but doesn't say anything, giving Kiara the impression that she didn't give him the answer he wanted to hear.

"Hey, what's going on?"she requests, sitting up a little more.

JJ rushes to assure her, not wanting to get her upset or open a topic he wasn't sure he was ready for. "Nothing, I's just wondering is all."

"I always had feelings for you, Jayj," she admits. "That didn't change when you left, either."

JJ's smile makes a soft return as he takes in the words. He wasn't as surprised by them as he would have been four years ago, hell even four weeks ago, but they hit all the same. He and Kiara have been doing good. They are good together. Good for each other.

At least he'd like to think he was good for her. While he's been helping him through his bullshit panic attacks and fucking PTSD, he's been a listening ear over her gripes with Anna and even opened up a bit about Mike's passing, something that she admitted affects her more than she likes to let on at times. 

"You're staying, right?"

JJ's thoughts are disturbed by the woman in his arms. They can see each other more clearly now that their eyes are adjusting. She's giving him that look. That one that makes him want to give her the world and never hold back.

There's more to it though. He can see the fear. How his question brought up her feelings and memories of not knowing where he was and him not contacting her. How she felt when she learned she'd be injured on more than one occasion on a mission. He doesn't want to hurt her like that.

He knows it's a shitty thing to do. It's a lie, because he can't promise anything, really. But he wants to. Wants to figure out a way to be two things at once. Here, with her. And with his squad.

It's a shitty thing to tell her because he doesn't have it all worked out. But he can't help it. He kisses her forehead, encouraging her to lay back down with him.

"Of course, Kie."

Read on AO3

[turnupswritessometimes]

Geppetto's Boy - Lies of P - Ch7

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54517777/chapters/138571591

Summary: A collection of oneshots set throughout the game, mostly exploring P and Gepetto’s relationship. (But exploring P’s relationships with most of Hotel Krat too.)

First | Previous | Next

Chapter Seven

Ergo was humans.

Ergo was made from humans.

Ergo was life. Literally. It was human lives.

P killed one of the monsters on his way back to the hotel. Ergo had flown from it. The alchemist had been right, then. This sickness was because of Ergo. The very thing P needed to live had caused the petrification disease. The puppets had been the reason for all of Krat's downfall; their frenzy, and their poisonous Ergo. He was a puppet. He had been part of the reason Krat was in the state it was in.

And yet, as he made his way back to the hotel, he still couldn't believe it. Couldn't believe that the blue, swirling Ergo could also be so terrible. It was beautiful; it was beautiful, and it was what brought him to Sophia. It was what had brought him home - the hotel was his home.

He stopped, on the steps of his home, his hand over his chest. His heart ran on Ergo. When his father opened him up, his face was lit with the soft blue light. How could something so beautiful be so terrible too?

"Hey, pal…" Gemini seemed to hesitate. "You don't think…"

All P was doing was thinking. His mind whirred, round and round. He couldn't stop thinking about his conversation with the Head Alchemist: with Simon Manus. Could he trust him to tell the truth? He supposed he had to: he had as much reason to believe him, as he did believe his father? Things were starting to come together, like fragments of a broken mirror. If he had some patience, he could piece it back together.

Though, he felt a twinge of fear at what it could mean.

"I need to speak to Polendina," P murmured. Because Polendina said his Ego had awakened: Polendina remembered things. It would make a terrible sense with what he had learnt.

"Shouldn't we see Geppetto first?" Gemini asked. "I mean, he'll want to know about this-"

"He might already know. He must already know." P was sure of that, when he said it. His father must know the truth about Ergo; must at least know its effects on humans; he was a clever man. "But he will not tell us the truth."

Gemini's voice was soft, and only half-scolding: "You don't know that."

But P did. He looked up at the hotel, finding the window of his father's room. He knew Geppetto now, and he knew what he would say and do. He knew that he had already hidden so much from P, that he wouldn't think of hiding this. He had gotten P to do exactly what he wanted.

"He does not lie," he said. "But he does not tell the truth, either."

He only told P as much as he needed to know, to keep him obedient. To keep him being a good boy.

Gemini listened. He gave a long, low chirp, his light dimming. "It's up to you. I don't control what you do. I can only give you advice."

P almost smiled. He felt exhausted from the fight, and more exhausted from the revelation, but at least he still had Gemini. He brushed his fingers over the top of the lantern. "Thank you."

Then he noticed there was something very wrong, with Hotel Krat. Noticed, now that Gemini was dimmer, there weren't as many lights coming from the building. The door was open - the door was damaged. From the glimpse he saw inside, he could see the lobby was in a state; the plants overturned and a tile cracked. Something had happened.

He rushed in, drawing his sword. Almost everything had been overturned. The photoframes had been smashed, and glass scattered the floor. The welcome desk was cleaved, woodchips trailing across the cracked marble floors. A chandelier had fallen, over the stairs, making everything darker; making shadows dance across the walls.

"I don’t like this…" Gemini murmured at his side. P didn’t reply. This was unnerving. More unnerving than walking into the Grand Exhibition, knowing it contained monsters. His home had been attacked. Someone had attacked his home.

When he went upstairs, when he found everyone, he learnt the details.

It had been attacked. The hotel had been attacked, and his father had been taken. Kidnapped. Geppetto had been kidnapped, and P had not been there to save him, this time. P hadn't been there. This had happened because of him.

It had all happened because of him.

All the way down to him inviting Allidoro to the hotel. His father had warned him about inviting everyone to the hotel, but P hadn't listened. He hadn't obeyed. He hadn't done what his father said. And because of that, his father had been taken from him. It had been the alchemsits. The alchemists, who were turning people into monsters. What were they going to do to his father?

It scared him, and he still hated being scared.

It wasn't just Alidoro, he thought, as he turned back down the corridor. It had been the fox and the cat. They had said their next job was for the alchemists. They must have known about this. He had trusted them too. He had suspected they were lying, but he'd thought they were good.

It was all P's fault.

He couldn't remember feeling angry, but he was angry, now. Furious. Hot. Not warm, like when he was happy, or proud. This was an itching, raging anger that made him want to fight. P had never wanted to fight like this. This feeling made him want to hit and maim and hurt something. He wanted to let out the burning rage onto something; to destroy something and have the satisfaction of knowing he had done that.

He retreated back to the lobby, becuase he hadn't trusted himself around the others. He didn't want to shout at them. He didn't want to hurt them. He couldn't risk hurting the people he cared about.

P looked at the gramophone in the lobby. The table it sat on was chipped, but the gramophone itself was in tact. He'd spent a long time listening to its records; loved listening the music, and how it skipped and crackled sometimes. But now, he wanted to smash it. Into pieces. It was so delicate, and it would be so beautiful to break it. To use his own hands to destroy such a beautful, delicate thing.

"Clever one."

He turned, to see Sophia there. His anger swirling like a hurricane inside him. He clenched his jaw, so he wouldn't shout at her, because he didn't want to shout at Sophia. He clenched his fists, and kept them clenched at his sides.

Sophia was soft, as soft as she always was. Her blue eyes looked at him, sadly. "I don't believe you've ever felt rage before, have you?"

P couldn't even shake his head. His chest heaved with a burning breath. "I've never wanted to destroy before."

"That's because you are just." Sophia stepped forward, her dress moving gracefully around her. She held out a hand, as if she was going to touch his cheek, but then stopped, as if she was afraid to touch him. "You don't have to destroy, now, darling."

He didn't want her to be afraid - not of him. He didn't want to be angry, anymore. He caught her hand, and tugged it to him, feeling clumsy. Sophia leant closer, unfurling her fingers to cup his cheek.

"How?" How could he stop being furious?

"Take a breath," Sophia said. "Keep breathing, and it will get easier. You can control that anger, and save it for the people you're truly angry at."

P tried to breathe. He wondered how breathing even helped, when he was a puppet. But it did. When he took a long breath, he felt some of the fire die down. It brought him back to himself. He leant into Sophia's touch, his heart racing. He kept breathing, searching her face. Her eyes were like sapphires; were the same deep blue as Ergo.

"Or, you can let it pass," she said. "You can let it wash over you, like a wave."

"I want that." He didn't like anger. Anger didn't make him feel like himself. Anger made him feel like he was going to do something terrible.

"Then you do that, clever one."

Sophia smiled at him. She brushed his hair back, behind his ear, her finger trailing down his jaw. The touch was so gentle compared to the violence he wanted to commit. Was this how the Black Rabbit had felt, when he'd wanted to take P apart? Was this how that donkey-man had felt, on the bridge, when he'd wanted to kill Geppetto? Could he blame either of them, for their feelings?

Being a human, he was finding, was much more difficult than he'd ever thought. There were so many different kinds of pain. There was so much more that he hadn't felt, and didn't know if he could stand feeling.

P nodded. He caught her hand again, and squeezed it gently. He wanted her to be closer. When Sophia was close to him, he felt he could be good; he felt as though he was more than Geppetto's puppet.

"My dearest friend!"

It was Venigni's voice. P turned towards the sound, and he knew Sophia was slipping away. She always did, whenever anyone else was there. He didn't understand it, but thought if he asked, she would hide from him too. Now, he wished she would stay. She always knew what to say to bring him back to himself.

By the time Venigni had made his way down the stairs, P stood alone in the foyer. For once, Venigni looked a mess; his hat gone, hair a mess, coat akimbo. He was panicked; of course he was. They'd been terrified, without him. How could he had let that happen?

"Oh, grazie a Dio!" he said. "When you rushed from the room, I thought...well, I'm glad you've not done anything hasty, compagno."

P shook his head. His hair swayed with the movement.

"Good, good."  Venigni brushed his own hair back. His hand shook. "Because, forgive my saying so, you are not prepared to rush off to another battle."

P supposed he wasn't. His legion arm needed tuning up, and now the anger had dulled, he felt pain where he'd been hit in the fight. Not to mention the blood, jamming up his legion arm. Geppetto had always cleaned the blood off him. Had always kept him perfect.

"I'm alright," he lied.

"You may be alright, but my beautiful arm is not." Venigni closed the gap between them. He caught P's wrist before he could pull away, turning it over to examine his palm. P could pull away, if he wanted to - but he didn't. "I cannot allow you to shame me by fighting with this."

"My father always repaired me," P said. He didn't realise it would hurt to say, but it did. His father had always been there.

Venigni stopped, for a moment. He nodded, then. "I am sorry about what happened to Geppetto. But will you allow me to help you?"

P looked at his legion arm. He had never cleaned or fixed it himself. Not anything more than Venigni's repair tool, wich gave it a second lease of life but didn't fix it for good. He didn't know if he could do it himself; his father had never given him the chance.

He nodded.

"Thank you." Venigni did smile. Did look genuine, if still shaken. "Step into my office, if you will."

If P had been in a better mood, he would have smiled. Instead, he nodded, and stepped towards Venigni's space. Pulcinella clunked down the stairs, watching them, almost hesitantly.

Did he have an ego, too, P wondered? Did he also have a human soul within him?

He laid his arm on Venigni's worktable, and he could see it now. Could see the dozens of small repairs that needed to be completed before it would work well again. Could feel, now, that it was an effort to make it work. Now the anger was gone, he felt drained.

Venigni paused, over it. He looked at P, as though he was expecting him to object. P took a deep breath, letting go of the last drags of anger. He nodded, again, setting his jaw.

"I cannot imagine how you must be feeling." Venigni sought for his tools, thumping the bag down on the table. He started work, easing P's fingers into place and taking off the plating.

He didn't want to look. Not this time.

"Geppetto is a good man," Venigni said.

He was the creator. It had been on that recording, from the King of Puppets. From Romeo. Geppetto was the creator, and all the puppets had been obeying Romeo, but also Geppetto. Romeo, it seemed, was also bound by that covenant. His own creator had destroyed him.

He hadn't told Venigni about that. He'd lied, and said he hadn't been able to hear, either.

How far would his father hurt him, if he needed to?

"Ergo is humans," he said, instead. He thought it best that someone else knew.

"Excuse me?" Venigni asked.

P looked at him. "Ergo is human souls. That's why puppets release it when they're destroyed. The monsters too, they release it, when they die."

Ergo and ego didn't sound too different. Pulcinella had paused at the doorway. What was he thinking? It was easier for P to wonder that, than to keep thinking about his father. His father who must have known about the ergo. Who had given P an ergo heart.

What was in P's heart?

"The Head Alchemist is using ergo to create monsters. To evolve humans, he said," P continued.

"That's awful." Venigni paused in his work, to look at him. P stared back. "And now they've taken Geppetto too."

"Because he knows about Ergo." Or because it would draw out P again? He wasn't sure. He knew he was going to get his father back. He was going to be a good son; he was going to be a good boy.

"That is their mistake." Venigni continued his work, and relief shoot through P. He felt his arm fixing. "I have never seen anything you cannot triumph over, bello."

Because P was made to destroy. Designed to destroy. The very arm Venigni was fixing was a weapon. Finally, he felt he could put his weapons to good use.

P didn't answer. He waited, feeling his arm be fixed. He brushed Gemini's lantern with his spare hand, waiting. He wanted to go. He wanted to go now, becuase if he was fighting, he wasn't thinking. If he thought too much, he'd realise what everything meant.

And he didn't want that. Suddenly, surely, he didn't want the puzzle pieces to fall into place.

"Thank you," he said, when Venigni released his arm, declaring it was as good as new. It shone in the gas lamps.

"I know I am not as fine a maker as Geppetto," Venigni began again, pausing longer this time, looking over him. "But there are...other repairs. If you'd permit me, I could..."

He trailed off, gesturing to P's chest. His heart. He had internal repairs that needed seeing to; he felt that too. Felt like he was overheating.

P put his hand over his heart. It was racing. He looked at Venigni. This man had irritated him, often, but this man was a friend. His friend. Looking at him earnestly form behind his glasses.

He trusted him.

P nodded. "Alright."

Venigni blinked, shocked. Then he beamed, like a child in a sweetshop. P couldn't help smiling, a little. He lifted himself, so he sat on the table, pushing back to make himself comfortable. He unbuttoned his coat, and his waistcoat. Pushed open his shirt, and realised he'd never done that before. Had never gotten to do that before, because his Father had always been the one to do it. It was strange, to do it himself; to make a decision.

Venigni's fingers hovered, over his chest plate, pausing.

This feltintimate, P realised. Venigni could break him, if he felt inclined. His life was in this man's hands.

He put his hand on Venigni's wrist, meeting his eyes. Venigni stared back, and nodded.

And Venigni opened him up, and got to work fixing him. P waited, sparks dancing through him, and watched Venigni's expression. It was different to watching his father. Geppetto was impassive, methodical. Venigni's eyebrows twitched, his mouth moved, as he worked.

"You're beautiful," Venigni murmured. "Truly, you are – a masterpiece."

He was a copy. P knew that, now. He was a copy of the little boy in the portrait; a copy of Carlo. But how could he resent his father for doing that, now he had been taken? How could he have been suspicious of him? How could he have been such a bad son, when his father had always been good to him?

P smiled, a little, and let Venigni work. He was grateful for Venigni had made him stop. This gave him time to think. If he'd rushed on, straight away, he worried he might have done something terrible.

He might have killed, without his father telling him to. Might have not felt remorse for hurting humans.

Could he do that?

He might have to do that, now, as he pursued the alchemists.

Venigni closed P's chest. His hand lingered, on his bare skin. He looked up, and P realised they were close. Very close, and Venigni was examining him. His glasses were low on his nose, and his eyes seemed bare without them.

"You are beautiful," he repeated.

P felt warm. This wasn't about his mechanics; it was about his appearance. He didn't want to say that it wasn't his face. It was Carlo's. He put his hand over Venigni's.

"Thank you," P murmured. This made him feel alive; his heart whirring.

Venigni smiled, softly. "May I?"

P wasnt sure what he was asking, but he nodded, all the same.

Venigni reached up, with his spare hand, and tucked P's long hair behind his ear. It was different to how his father touched him; this wasn't maintenence; this was something more. Something closer to Sophia. This was touch.

"Buorna fortuna, my friend."

Venigni pressed his lips against P's cheek. On one side, and then the other. He stepped away, and P felt sparks on his skin. He blinked. Found himself smiling, ducking his chin like he was embarrassed. He was embarrassed. He could feel, even if he shouldn't be able to. He nodded.

Eugenie arrived, then. She brushed her hair back, retying it, adjusting her glasses.

"I am sure your weapons need a buff up too," she said. She looked nervous. "Or perhaps I can improve them before you head out again?"

P nodded, drawing his blade. He held it out on his palms. "Thank you. Both of you."

He had a team. He had friends, who were ready to repair him and his weapons. For once, Eugenie didn't smile, as she looked over his sword. She worked silently, and hard, whilst he paced. Tested his arm.

Noticed the puppet they'd used for sparring was broken, on the floor. Did that puppet have an ego too?

P leant against the door of the hotel, listening to Venigni and Pulcinella's soft voices and the sound of Eugenie tinkering. His friends had calmed the fury inside him.

Now he was ready to save his Father.

*

P suspected he'd known, before the beach. Long before the beach, though he couldn't say how much longer. Just that he'd known, even before he saw the memories.

He stood, his boots half-buried in the sand, and finally admitted it.

"My Ergo is Carlo."

Gemini didn't chirp. For a moment they stood there, together, the wind whipping P's clothes. Sand buffeted his cheeks.

 "Do you remember...being him?" Gemini asked.

"No." P's heart thudded. He wondered if that was Carlo, trying to get out. "No, I only remember parts, but it's like..a book. I remember these things and I know they happened, but it doesn't feel like it happened to me."

He was Carlo. But he wasn't. He had been Carlo, once, and now he had Carlo's Ergo in his heart, yet Carlo hadn't returned. The boy in these memories didn't feel like him.

He stepped forward. The waves washing to the shore sounded very far away.

"My Father knew that."

Gemini paused, again. "Yeah, I think you might be right about that, Pal."

"He built me to replace him."

P knew that. He thought he'd known when he saw the portrait, for the first time. He'd known, but hadn't let himself realise it. Perhaps he'd even known before that. Perhaps, when he was presented with Carlo's old uniform, and Geppetto had looked at him like that, as if he was looking for something inside him. He had Carlo's ergo, he was built to look like Carlo.

And he wasn't.

It explained all of those looks that he didn't understand. Every time it felt like he'd said something wrong. It hadn't been what Carlo would do. He had failed. He wasn't Geppetto's boy. He couldn't be.

"Pal?" He heard Gemini's voice distantly. He hadn't moved, he realised, he still stood on the beach, the wind whipping his hair across his face. His hair. That had been why his father wanted to cut it. P hadn't let him.

"If I had been better, this wouldn't have happened." If he'd been a better replacement for Carlo.

"You don't really believe that, do you?" Gemini's lantern glowed brighter, to get his attention. He looked down at it, blinking. "You didn't kidnap Geppetto. You were doing what he said. Going to the Grand Exhibition."

"He told me not to trust anyone outside the hotel."

"And I'm sure glad you did."

"Carlo wouldn't have." He felt sure of that. Felt sure that Carlo had only trusted Romeo.

"Maybe. But it was trusting people that got you the cure for Lady Antonia. It was trusting people that got Eugenie closure about her family. It was trusting people that helped us get this far, kid."

"Those were all lies."

"And that makes you better than Carlo."

P raised an eyebrow at Gemini. "Maybe Carlo was a good liar."

"You tell me."

P knew. He knew that Carlo was an atrocious liar. "He wasn't."

"See, I can't tell if you're lying or not."

P couldn't help it. He smiled, just a little. That could have been Gemini's plan all along; to lift his spirits. He still felt entirely weighed down, but not quite so terrible – not quite so terrible that he wasn't Carlo.

He took a step. The memories continued around him. He hadn't wanted to be Carlo. He'd known that.

But he did still want to be a son.

He let the memories form around him, let them fill up the gaps in his mind, and understood what Carlo's life had been like. Understood Carlo was gone, now. P may have his Ergo and his memories, but he wasn't Carlo any longer. That boy was gone. Maybe Ergo wasn't quite human souls. Perhaps there was more to what a human soul was.

Perhaps he still carried part of Carlo, but now it nestled alongside something else. Hi owns?

"Gemini." They'd reached the steps of the great, stone building. It loomed so large that it seemed to have become one with the stony, grey sky.

Perhaps he still carried Carlo's soul, but now it nestled alongside something else. His?

"Gemini." They'd reached the steps of the great, stone building. It loomed so large that it seemed to have become one with the stony, grey sky. "Do you think it's possible? To develop a soul?"

Gemini didn't answer straight away. His light flickered.

"You know, pal," he said. "I think anything's possible."

P smiled. He stepped forward.

He didn't know what he was going to do, when he met his father again.

But he did know who he was, now. He wasn't Carlo.

He was P.

[simplybybea]

Accidently became semi-nocturnal while on my winter leave from work but honestly starting my New Year how the rest of 2025 will probably go.

Going 'one more chapter' on A03 until silly o'clock.

And then waking up and doing laundry.

[redroomreflections]

I think Stella will be upset she’s not the big sister anymore

[king-buckley]

Apartment 9 - Influencer!Buck AU - Chapter 11

General Audiences | Eddie Diaz & Evan Buckley | Word Count 1022

Eddie’s abuela had been talking to him and Evan for what felt like hours about some woman her salons granddaughter who had just recently gotten a divorce, Eddie knew exactly what she was doing.

“She would be a very nice girl for you.” Isabel smiles.

“I’m not looking for a girl at the moment, abuela.” Eddie says, his eyes darting to Evan for a second before returning to her.

“Shouldn’t you be with Christopher?” Ramon, Eddie’s father says - up until this point he had remained silent, observing the room full of his family.

“He’s playing with Tia Pepa.” Eddie says, he didn’t have the confidence when speaking to his dad that Evan had.

“This boy you’ve brought to my house, he must be Christopher’s carer.” Ramon says, Eddie saw a lot of Chris’ attitude in his father.

“I’m not Chris’ carer, Mr Diaz.” Evan says, his unbridled confidence shining through in his smile, the smile Eddie was sure could kill a man if he looked for too long.

“We’re getting married, dad.” Eddie says, his leg fidgeting nervously. “That’s why we came here, to tell you.”

Eddie’s mother and abuela’s hands shot to their chests, just over their hearts.

“Oh, qué lindo.” His mother Helena gasps, his abuela having the same reaction.

“Gracías.” Eddie smiles, “Dad?”

Ramon sat for a moment, his eyes narrowed slightly. “I don’t like this.”

tags: @onlyyoudude @weebleroxanne @sophierichmond @singlethread @lurasty12345678910 @queerlildiaz @shortsighted-owl @buddierights @911onabc @alyxmastershipper @eddiediaztho

[toriisasimp]

quiet day at work which means getting through 4 chapters of a fanfic!

[jowrites]

Fill The Void - Chap. 15

Main Masterlist Here

Prev. Next.

TW: Toxic relationship, manipulation, gaslighting, verbal abuse, sexual themes

Taglist: @sumzysworld @n1k1mura

Jake and Void laid in his bed laughing with each other over a topic they have been debating for the past 10 minutes. She came over and they didn’t actually have sex. He didn’t want to rush into it and he knew within time their love will blossom into something even more wonderful than what he feels and when that time comes he wants their first time to be special. Jake is a romantic and he finally has someone to romance with. He was just on cloud 9.

“You know, from the moment I met you it’s been so weird,” she started to say, sitting up on his chest to look at his face.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you believe in love at first sight?”

“I did the moment I laid eyes on you.”

“See! You get it. I just thought we’re like Kindred Souls, since we believe in a lot of the same things and are alike, but I get really sad when I’m not with you. It’s like I have to be WITH you. Ugh, Jake Sim, what have you done to me?”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?”

“Yes. Fallen hard and fast, how lame.”

“I get it though. I’ve always just admired you for your music and deep down I’ve been IN love with your music alone…but the person behind the words, the melodies, you’re so easy to love. You deserve to be loved.”

“Oh, you flatter me. You fill me up with so much, ugh I need to write a song. Where’s your guitar?”

“You want to write a song? Now?”

“When the best muse comes along, you must take advantage of it. Duh, everyone knows that!”

And just like that they sat on his bed with his guitar, he watched her work her magic as she wrote down lyrics and strummed the guitar. She was so focused, as if he wasn’t even in the room with her and he felt if he even breathed it would disturb her. So he just sat there and watched. She was in her world and just a few months ago this would have been so foreign to him, but he understood it now. She managed to fill his void too, and boy was he in love. 

[nocanonhere]

Dear god if i finish this Wyll multi chapter fic this week i will scream