#puppet is not sure how he feels about humans who call him special and call him son but define their relationships with him

[i-yap]

Batboys x quiet! reader(who is not quiet in private)

( some of the reasons for the quietness is a bit traumatic so uhh warning)

Dick grayson -

opposites attract is possibly my favorite trope ever. And that is exactly what you guys are . Not exactly golden retriever x black cat though people who didn't know you guys well assumed such .

Dick would get exhausted spending forever being charming and charismatic for even the most extroverted of people get tired when they had to manage multiple superhero teams, a detective squad and the whole batfamily.

You were silence, peace serenity almost..until you weren't. Grayson was worried about this relationship in the start, after all you guys were really different. He was afraid you were going to be annoyed by his sunshine self, and that when he isn't feeling like talking, the conversations would go silent.

But you really are so different when comfortable with someone, and its tough not to trust and drop your shield with grayson.

It took him by surprise slowly seeing you open up and show your weird side. It somehow made him cherish it more and even want to show sides of him that only you got to see.

When he asked you why you weren't like this with everyone you said " My parents had a habit of talking over me, sometimes outrightly not hearing me speak at all. No matter how loud I spoke..i wondered if they couldn't hear me...if anyone even wanted to you" "why me then?" asked dick , "you're nothing like my parents, I know you care" and he does..he really does. He won't ever let you feel like that every again. He will make sure everything you want said is heard, and if not he will burn it into the skyline

Jason todd

he appreciated it, a quiet person in public. He hated being in public, he hated the buzz the noise the push the touch of humans around him. He felt strange

till he feels you hold his knowing you felt just as strange as him. Leave the gala and walk around the library , one earphone in each ear listening to whatever you wished to play.

Pulling you close in crowded areas- was it for you or for him? Glaring at anyone who dared tease you about your quietness. A single glare usually does the job but don't worry ...other ways exist too.

He loves that when you two are alone, you are a completely different person. It makes him feel special, like he is the only one who understands you. Because you're the only one who understands him.

When he asks " well I guess I never felt like people liked what came out of my mouth.. my humour too dark, my words too dumb and I didn't make sense. So I stopped trying" don't worry about being cringe..he understands you completely

Tim drake

he is intruiged. How do you pull such a perfect facade. How does one look so poised and collected with those rich assholes and so wild and untamed with him?

He could never really perfect the act the way you did. He's seen you grow up, but somehow its like you were born with two people living in your brain.

If you're this mysterious to your childhood lover, how does anyone in the world even think that they could know you, both versions of you.

Dont get me wrong, he loved it, A mystery he never could solve, not even with your help.

" Teach me your ways master" "I remember you wanting me to call you that last night..oh no wait it was si-" "shut upp" "fine ill tell you timmy boy, I just believe those rich stick up their ass puppets don't deserve to see all ..this.." "what about school kids, friends , teemates-" "I don't need anyone to get me as long as you do"

He will never get it, even if someone engraved it into his skin he wont understand everything about you , you'll always be the case he couldn't solve.

AND WE ARE BACK BICHES , send in requests and stuff, inbox open again blah blah I'm feeling much better now but I might push angst stuff more

[tartarusknight]

Steve froze as the mind flayer came flying downwards at their group. He could hear Hopper yell for everyone to get down. Joyce and Jonathan running for Will. Steve who had been by both Robin and El, threw himself in front of them. Covering them the best he could. The mindflayer hit them with its smoke form and it was like nothing Steve had ever felt before. As is a tidal wave and a strong gust of wind mixed together to make you feel like you were drowning on land.

It settles around their feet for a moment before it began to swirl around all of them. Tendrils ran up Steve's leg but he didn't focus on that when there was one on El. The girl was the best shot to killing this thing. If she was taken now, they were fucked. So he battered them away from her as she did her best to get free of it's grips.

Only when Steve feels a tug, not on his leg or arm but like something tugged inside of him. Like someone had gotten a good grip on his intestines and pulled. Steve stumbled back his body going taught as he felt what felt like electricity running through his veins. His hand spasms and he drops the nail bat before his knees give out. Robin shouts his name and the last thing he sees before falling forward onto the ground is her outreached arms.

Steve feels nothing and everything at the same time. It makes it difficult to open his eyes but when he does, it's to an empty landscape. Like the Upside Down but... Just nature. It wasnt the creepy hell version of Hawkins but floating rocks and yellow lightning. The vines looked more like veins than slimy killers. And there was a form, made out of black particles flickering around. Silently he wishes that they could just have normal human problems to worry about. Instead of this.

As Steve stared, frozen to his spot, he could see it solidify into a spider like form before becoming something closer to a swarm of bees. It was the mindflayer. But it wasn't attacking like it had just been, it was just watching him. "King, help," the word isn't said but Steve hears it clear as day.

His brow furrows, "what?"

"King," it responds like he should understand. But he doesn't. "Help us, my king."

That word lost all meaning to him hears ago. From Tommy starting the nickname to the distain Steve could feel when Robin teased him with it. "You are called a king." It says and the pressure from it's words is like a pressure to his skull.

He winces and takes a step back, "that- I'm no king." But it doesn't seem to understand repeating the word once more. He feels at a lost, wishing someone else was here. He barely understood Will and El when they explained it wasn't the mindflayer attacking them, it was just Henry. That technically the mindflayer was just another puppet. Yet no one else is here. Wherever here is.

He feels dread light up his limbs and sighs. "Look, I haven't been called that in a long time. It basically-"

But the mindflayer cuts him off, "you are a king without a kingdom.” It's almost like a question but said like a demand.

"Sure, I guess. But I don't- what the fuck-" he screams, starting back as the smoke spirals down in front of him, looking smaller... But like a more condensed form. It almost looked solid if not for the wisps floating around it

"We need a king." The form flickers and it's like a living shadow.

"I'm not a king," Steve presses but as it takes a step forward, he scrambles further back until he trips on one of the many vines. As it reaches out, its hand catches him from falling. The fingers wrapped around his wrist are solid, almost warm against him.

"We need a ruler, a mind to melt us." The form is growing firmer the longer they stand here and Steve is lost. "you already are changing us." And if it can, it sounds amused.

"But- it was just a nickname. I'm not special." Steve splutters and the blackness of the smoak is changing. "I don't even know how to help you."

The grip on his wrist is completely solid and when Steve glances down, long human fingers are around his wrist. "Oh, my king, you're already helping us. Henry wanted us to strike fear in his enemies, he wanted an ally in his war, he wanted a beast. You just want to be free, for your friends to be safe, for me to be human. You desire a normalcy that you've lost," and the voice isn't pounding into Steve's skull but spoken like someone is speaking to him.

But Steve can look away from the hand around his wrist. "You desire for your friends to have a normal childhood, to have friends and play their games. You desire Robin to have another friend to confide in. You desire love," the voice is smooth and it would be relaxing if it weren't for the fact that it had been the fucking mindflayer a second ago. "My king, we can give it all to you," another hand moves and cups his cheek. Tilting him to look at a man with sparkling eyes and curly brown hair. As a smile formed on the man's face, a dimple formed to wink at Steve. "I think that it could be fun for both of us," the man grinned and Steve wasn't really sure what was happening anymore.

So I was trying around with this king Steve plot thingy after reading In Over My Head by staymagical (a wonderful fic if anyone's interested💞) but I had another actual idea of something like Venom (yes from spiderman) but more of... Well it was like Eddie somehow becomes Steve's shadow as in Eddie wasn't human. But I haven't gotten around to writing it yet. I might write a small clip like this with that premise tho. Anyways I combined the two ideas because I could and you got this. Hopefully it's at least an entertaining thought for ya 💞

[contract-crawdad]

Look outside OC concepts!!

I definitely plan to draw them at some point, but wanted to get their concepts written down first.

Lecter

Dan’s #1 biggest fan! A Dan stan, if you will. He never misses a stream!… Even if he can only work up the nerve to actually type something in chat when Dan directly asks for information or guidance on a game.

Lecter spent the 15 days of the disaster stuck on the second floor of a university library, alongside a half dozen other college students who showed up bright and early to get some cramming in.

He didn’t mean to look outside, but hey, accidents happen! In this case, accidents happen in the form of some titanic unidentified thing shaking the whole building and knocking some of the window blockades loose.

Now he’s cursed, and his legs have withered and atrophied while his arms have grown much longer. He’s pretty much useless in combat, but at least it allows him to climbs things pretty quickly.

Most strikingly of all, however, is his now-rectangular head that opens vertically like a book. Opening it reveals ‘pages’ made of brain matter with writing and illustrations formed from blood vessels.

As for the contents of these pages? If Lecter looks at someone, even indirectly, they are automatically entered as a new page in his gray matter encyclopedia. Their page contains an unnervingly large amount of uncannily specific details, including but not limited to name, date of birth, email address, phobias, and blood type.

As long as he adds new people regularly enough, his body doesn’t even need food! Which is really good news, considering he’s not sure where his mouth wound up.

For some reason, a quirk of these entries are that they’re phrased like an RPG? Don’t ask Lecter why, he hasn’t a clue. The entries use terminology like ‘weaknesses’ and ‘resistances’, as well as making frequent reference to ‘EXP’ as if it was a real thing.

He’s a major contributor to Dan’s ‘Poll Viewers’ skill, and a big part of the reason it’s able to provide quite so much impossibly detailed information! Fortunately, Dan doesn’t seem to notice or care than a lot of the information Lecter provides reads like an RPGmaker enemy wiki page.

His monster name is Enpsychopedia. He came up with it himself!

Dr. Sunder

…But you can just call her Brenda!

Brenda is a ‘human’ ‘doctor’ who ‘specializes’ in helping the sane cursed population! Got an extra set of jaws? Non-euclidean intestines? A third arm that you can’t control that keeps making rude gestures? She can help!!

She promises to hack and cut and suture and stitch until you’re in the most human shape you can possibly be! It’s amazing how many parts you just don’t need.

She comes across as pushy and really seems to pressure people as hard as she can into making the ‘right’ decision. ‘Don’t you want to look human again?’

But she doesn’t seem to care about how the cursed themselves might feel about their condition. It’s one thing to remove dangerous, painful, or psychologically distressing parts… but Brenda universally advises the complete removal of any body part that deviates from the human norm.

In truth, rather than being obsessed with perfection or a puritan about the human form, she is cursed herself. And loves it! The reality is, she doesn’t give a rat’s ass about how people want to look or how they feel: she just wants their parts for herself. Very literally. Once a part is removed, she later transplants it onto her own body in secret.

Brenda PRESENTS herself as human. And it’s a very good illusion! Until you notice that she never really moves out from behind her desk.

The ‘Brenda’ that patients see and interact isn’t her whole body. It’s more like a finger puppet to a much, much larger being. Basically the frogfish from the Soingebob movie.

Her entire office is just the mouth, and the rest of her body is a horrible hodgepodge of transplanted parts.

Pretends not to have a name for her monster form when asked about it by those who know she’s cursed, but she totally does. It’s Mishmash.

Darner & Lucy

Darner didn’t look outside, but a dragonfly (Lucy) that made its way into his home through a cracked window already had. Quickly mutating to monstrous size, the insect attempted to eat Darner head-first… and largely succeeded.

But, seeing as Lucy was still in the unstable early stages of Visitor-induced metamorphosis, instead of chewing Darner their heads became merged together.

Both parties share one head, with Darner’s (still pretty normal) human body dangling down from the car-sized dragonfly’s head. He can still fully control it, but it’s feet usually dangle about a foot off the ground.

Darner has maintained his sanity, but Lucy is new to this whole ‘thinking’ thing and doesn’t like it very much. She’d really rather just eat anything that moves, with Darner is essentially stuck serving as her conscience. She’s getting better, he insists, but advises most people to keep their distance. Especially people who have wings. Those trigger Lucy’s predatory drive.

Darner controls a much smaller portion of their mouthparts, which he can use to speak. Even while Lucy is talking.

Lucy herself isn’t childlike, but she is naive, as well as oblivious to how brutal a lot of what she sees as normal is. The world used to be simple… if it was smaller than her, and she was faster than it, she ate it. And now? Quite a lot more things are smaller and slower than she is.

While she can usually be convinced by Darner not to try and eat humans or sane cursed, hunger is a very relevant factor. Their mouth, a hybrid of human teeth and a dragonfly’s ‘spring loaded’ jaw, makes for brutally effective hunting tool.

Darner is of the opinion that having a ‘monster name’ is insulting and degrading. Lucy thinks Draggin’ Fly is a pretty cool monster name for them.

“Gettit Darner? Huh? Do ya gettit? Because I’m always draggin’ you arou”-

“Yes, Lucy, I get it.”

[littleoneamanda]

GF: Stanford Pines

Well, probably one of the fastest drawings I have been drawing xD

The original art style is pretty easy to work with, but I think I will keep doing it in mine after Fidds. Unless you want to see me draw more in the original style. Let me know! :D

Now to my thoughts on the book of bill and Stanford as a character. (SPOILERS)

The missing Journal Pages in this book are probably the ones that I found the most interesting and disturbing. We learn more about Ford as a person and what kind of friendship he had with Bill.

I just wanna say this, I really don't see how so many people saw them as "lovers" which I (imo) found very problematic and disturbing.

I think it is pretty clear Bill only uses Ford for his own gain. His property. Ford was the perfect human for his plans.

Take everything Bill says in the book with a whole spoon of salt.

"Even his lies are lies"

-Code from TBOB

"The ego of a king. The insecurity of a circus freak. And totally isolated from anyone who might steer him clear of my plans "

-Bill, TBOB

Ford has very low self esteem, isolates himself, bad at social interactions and even had a shotgun pointed at him. He describes himself "six fingerd freak".

So when a god like figure shows up in a dream one day, tells you how great you are, you will change the world, ect, You would buy it. Especially when others around you have made you feel like an outcast through your whole life (except for Stanley and Fidds).

Bill is basically love bombing Ford. Making Ford feel very special and reminding him of the project that will change everything.

Now there is a difference between self esteem and self confidence. (I'm adding the links if you wanna know more :) ) Ford absolutely have a strong self confidence. He believes strongly in his research. He belives he CAN achive and complete his research. This is also something Bill takes advantage of. He knows Ford is desperate. This is where is self confidence turns a little bit more to narcissism (again caused by Bill by manipulation). Bill does everything to make sure Ford continues the work.

As soon Ford realizes the betrayal, Bill shows his true colors.

He takes over Fords body multiple times. Takes his body on top of the roof in the middle of the winter, taped a rattlesnake into his journal, recorded a video of him being in Fords body "Puppet Hour with Bill" and will cut to something more disturbing scene. Left a lot of polaroids of him humiliating and torture his body in different ways.

Scaring Ford with one scene where he pretended to call Stan that he was gonna kill himself. This part of the book was probably the one that made me actually shiver. Think about it, You see video and pictures of yourself doing all of this, knowing that this is not you doing all of these things. And having no memory of it at. Too scared to fall asleep because you have no idea were your body is going to be next. That would make any person as paranoid Ford was at the end.

Fidds and Ford.

There is a lot of things that I wanna talk about when it comes to these two, but I will save most of it to the Fidds drawing.

Fidleford is Fords only true friend during this time. He is very supportive but also honest with Ford.

Ford haven't had any other friends during his early life. Stanley was his only friend, and the one who protected him until that one mistake that separates them. When Fiddleford comes in to the picture, (a person who also seemed to have problems making friends) he's probably the first person who doesn't even notice at first that Ford has six fingers. I really wish here we had some more backstory of their college years to know what their friendship looked like, but it seems they were very close.

"I am overcome with emotion. The sight of my old classmate upon my doorstep this morning filled my heart with such joy and gratitude."

-Stanford, Journal 3

Ford was obviously very happy to not be alone anymore in his home. To have his best friend (who also left his family behind) to work with him on this massive project. Now comes the question, what does Ford see Fidds as? I think Fidds shows some kind of feelings towards Ford escpecially when it comes to giving presents (Not only in TBOB but also in Journal 3). I think Ford does deeply care about Fidds, but his mind at this point is so focused on the project (and Bill making sure he is) that he pushes away a lot of feelings. Probably a lot of feelings that are necessary to have as well.

Something I do notice tho is when Bill isn't present, Ford becomes more like himself. Decorating the portal to make make Fidds happy after the failed family reunion (which I don't think he normally would have done if Bill was present during the holidays).

After Bill torture and threatening Ford in the nightmare, the only man he could think of in that moment who could help him was Fiddleford. When he went through Fidds notes for any hints of where he was now, he finds the 5 failed knitted 6-fingered gloves and the ripped photo of them. I can't imagine what that must have felt...

The closest person he had in his life at that point, who has tried to warn him. Tried to give Ford another option for success in his research instead of the portal. The regret of not listening to his warnings.

When they reunited after Weirdmaggedon, seeing how Fiddleford lived now and what the aftermath of the portal incident did to him, must have been a punch in the gut.

"...but when I saw that he was living at the dump, it became clear how deeply I had hurt this man that I had once held so dear."

-Stanford Journal 3

So...Is Ford a jerk? The question and discussions that I've seen so many times here xD

Honestly, this man is complicated. Especially when it comes to understand his thoughts and feelings. However, Stanford is a type person that I personally have encountered irl. Sometimes too smart for his own good, sometimes not understanding how others may feel about certain things/topics and a person who constantly try to prove to themself and to others. A man lost in his own insecurities and very isolated. He his the main character in his life. Now that doesn't exscuse his negative actions at all. But more like a explanation to what might had led to the certain events.

Alright, this took way longer to write than actually make the drawing xD But did wanna share somethings that has been on my mind. When trying to search for analyses of the characters, it has been difficult to find one that is a middle ground. It's either: Stanford is a jerk and doesn't deserve anything good or Here is why everyone is wrong type of stuff. I'm not here to tell how we should think about certain characters. This is just how I look at all of this. The only problem I have with all of this is the thing between Ford and Bill. Maybe it's just me, but I really don't see any type of romance there. I know a lot of people went off on the "one thing led to another" part. I do not know what to say to that honestly. That page was super hard for my eyes to read for some reason lol. And i know, Yes, I did a video of Fidds being cucked by a triangle. I don't mind some of the jokes around it...I mean i did myself xD

I think the reason Bill is a bit obsessed over Ford is because after so many attempts with making deals with other humans to help Bill build a portal, this one was sooo close to success and ALMOST succeeded. He had all the tools and the right human to make it, but failed. He must feel so bitter.

Anyway, that's it for now! Next is Fiddleford :D

[revserrayyu]

3.0 Amphoreus thoughts [part 4]

**Spoiler warning** for the very end of the quest such as some final scenes of Amphoreus and everything about The Herta. Goes without saying but don’t continue reading if you haven’t finish the mission yet.

I wonder if we’ll be able to secure a coreflame at the end of each upcoming patch. Sure we only need five more and the entire story will last until 3.7 but surely something is bound to go wrong, right?

I forget exactly when it was said, either by Aglaea or one of the Tribbios triplets, but these trials the Chrysos Heirs go through in order to become a demigod is quite taxing on them, as they lose a part of themselves, becoming less human or something like that, so I wonder if Phainon will be the same positive, uplifting guy he was after he returns.

I have no strong opinions on Mem yet but they kinda give me Happy (Fairy Tail) vibes. I would’ve said any Pokémon, but at least now they’re capable of speaking in full sentences.

So is the lie about him not being as confident in completing the trial? Or perhaps he isn’t a true Chrysos Heir? Or some other third thing that we’re not supposed to know yet? We’ll find out eventually. Keep your secrets.

And finally, after all that Amphoreus drama, The Hera makes an appearance. Sort of. Honestly, this switch up felt so out of place, as if we were starting a completely different quest with no information beforehand. But dang, she’s really calling everyone who called her five star form pretty out.

This whole time we believed she could just summon up Nous.. and it was all a farce! Haa!

I’ll say I’m neutral when it comes to Herta. I like her but I’m not a huge fan like many others, but I gotta admit that she’s hilarious.

I haven’t a clue on what’s going on here, for I was exhausted when I reached this part of the story the other night, but I just know some people out there are wishing to be this memosnatcher right now.

I remember very little when it comes to Aeon lore but Nous is just a giant, intelligent super computer, yeah? So would something like that even have memories? Regardless, The Herta is enjoying her successful reverse uno on this memosnatcher a bit too much. Teehee~

Isn’t.. a hundredth of a lifetime not that long? Unless The Herta is like centuries years old or something, I dunno. But she has successfully figured out de-aging, so who knows how long she'll live for. I’m not putting too much belief in numbers unless their actually stated, and even then I’m hesitant because what do you mean Pela is just 16?? Ain’t no way. Denied. But I guess anything sounds mildly threatening coming from Herta, so better luck next time memosnatcher.

The fact an emanator was able to break free from Sunday’s rainbow harmony waves doesn’t surprise me, but our handsome angel and Welt suddenly showing up to interrupt Herta’s attempt to contact Nous certainly does.

All these shenanigans with her own puppets and the memosnatcher and the seriousness of calling Nous, and yet she’s silly enough to not lock any doors.. Herta is so entertaining.

It feels like she’s breaking the fourth wall by talking directly at us. But I dunno y’all, this whole section with her just felt random to me. It’s like Hoyo was so focused on the Amohoreus story and then remembered that The Herta was supposed to be involved in this patch too and then tossed all this in last minute. I’m sure there’s people who enjoyed it and understood everything better than my sleepy self did though.

Now then, the line from Mem is nothing special, but I wanted to bring it up anyway..

Because it reminds me of March’s wakeup call to us back at the beginning of 2.3. I have no idea if our girl has any connection to Mem, or Fuli, or Oronyx or anyone else, but there’s definitely a link somewhere somehow.

He’s totally gonna be fine. Surely nothing bad will happen to him, right?

I don’r remember much of this conversation between a young Phainon and Cyrene, but I am glad she was at least included towards the very end of this patch. Now we just have to wait for Anaxa, Hyacine and Cipher to show up. I do recall that Cipher was mentioned by Aglaea to that purple guy who steals treasure chests though.

Of course I’m under the belief that March may have a connection to Cyrene as well, simply because of the pink hair and possibility they could be an Elysia expy.. although the more I look at this image with a sword piercing through Cyrene, perhaps she and March are one in the same? Maybe Cyrene was once a Chrysos Heir who managed to obtain a coreflame, then proceeded to undergo the trail to become a demigod but had to give up her memories and/or old life along the way in order to succeed? Oh dear.

My thoughts are scrambling all over the place now with theories and it isn’t going to get any better since the story ends with Himeko walking into March’s room only to see our precious girl turning into a huge ice cube. Wasn’t Black Swan supposed to be watching over her? Memokeeper where art thou?!

Oohh I’m so worried for her and it doesn’t help that she actually appears in her room like this even outside of the main story! Aaahhh.. overall, I think 3.0 was a pretty solid start. There wasn’t too much lore to get lost in and I enjoyed most of the new Amphoreus cast far more than I thought I would. One of the downsides though is.. it was such a long quest, like goodness gracious I can’t believe it took me ten hours to finish. Is this how it’s gonna be all the way up to 3.7?? Goddamn.

[jjupitersong]

Long rant ahead: the "best" ending of Lies of P is actually the worst ending of the game.

Ironically enough, the only ending that feels like an actual resolution is the "Real Boy" ending, where Geppetto gets his happily-ever-after, and all the work you put in as P is for naught. Despite the fact that it's his game and his story, P - as a character - gets completely shafted.

Because when you think about it, the "best ending" is actually for Sophia. If you don't give her peace, you don't get the supposed "best ending", and you don't get her story achievement. You also miss out on her magically becoming a puppet - who created her? How did she get there? Was she there the whole time? What's the reasoning for bringing her back, if she wanted to be "at peace"?

Of all the characters, Sophia's is the least well-written and executed. She's so mysterious, to the point where she becomes some sort of nebulous, non-tangible entity - and less like an actual character, which does her an injustice. And as the story progresses, she ends up commandeering the entire game, relegating the main character to the sidelines. And as a result, the resolution to P's story feels less than satisfactory.

From my understanding of the original story of Pinocchio, the puppet wants to become a real boy, yet in Lies of P, P expresses no such desire to become human; he simply does what others tell him to do, and the choices he makes along the way either affirm his existence as a puppet or his capacity for rational, human-like thought. The only time where he questions this is during his conversation with Arlecchino, where he's asked if he's a puppet or a human, and it's up to him to make that choice. This is P's major conflict throughout the story. Thus, if he decides that he's human (which is required in order to get the best ending), then that should - in some way - inform the ending, and by the end of the game, he should have somehow transformed into an actual flesh-and-blood human being. There wouldn't be any point to him choosing that, otherwise, if there won't be any follow-through afterwards. It seems sort of pointless, then, asking him the question to begin with - because, obviously, he is a puppet. Unless, of course, there is a way for him to become human. Conversely, with a similar game, Detroit: Become Human, the androids have no desire to actually become human, themselves; what they truly want is to be recognized as they are. Yet in Lies of P, there is the overarching narrative of P either leaning towards humanity or remaining a puppet. In fact, the game "punishes" the player for, essentially, not making P human enough. If you don't achieve a high enough level of humanity, P will either die in the "Real Boy" ending, or be berated by Geppetto in the "Free From the Puppet Strings" ending, where Geppetto calls him a useless puppet.

But discovering humanity and physically becoming human are two entirely different things. Going back to P's conversation with Arlecchino - if P states that he's human, Arlecchino agrees by responding that they're "humans trapped in puppetry." However, that's still not the same as being a real human being. Although P's body does physically change (e.g. hair growing longer and changing colour, being able to cry, etc), he is still a puppet. And the process behind these changes isn't fully explained - even Geppetto isn't sure how these changes are happening! We don't know how P was made, in comparison to the other puppets - only that he's "special". It would've been helpful if they had explained it further because why is P's appearance able to change, yet the other puppets are unable to change theirs? Are they not all animated by Ergo, in the same way?

As it is, this ending is inconsistent with the game's themes and messaging. If the game is insistent on P becoming human, if that's the language that they're choosing to use - and if that's what P, himself, chooses - then he should have become human in the "best" ending. That should have been the resolution to P's story and, ultimately, the player's reward for gaining a high level of humanity - otherwise, what is the point? And Sophia should have remained deceased (and at peace), with her spirit channelled through blue butterflies (the butterfly symbolizing freedom and transformation). But having Sophia return in the ending removes the focus from P - which is ironic, considering that the ending is called "Rise of P". Yet it's Sophia who seems to have "risen". And if she can be "resurrected", then who's to say that others can't come back - that Romeo, for example, can't come back? It's a slippery slope and creates an unneeded plot hole.

... And while we're on that note, why, oh why, does Carlo have a legion arm in the "Real Boy" ending? The only mechanical thing about him should be his heart, as there was neither indication nor mention that he was missing his left arm upon his death (unless I missed that information somewhere). If that ending is chosen, the ability to teleport with the Stargazer should have been disabled, seeing as he's not allowed to leave the hotel - making him unable to fight any enemies because the player wouldn't have access to the legion arm.

As much as I love this game, the "best" ending is just not a good ending, narrative-wise. It doesn't do the story justice - it doesn't do P justice. Instead, it undermines and undercuts the story, making it feel very unsatisfying. Which is such a shame because they set the story up so beautifully. I only wish they had followed through.

[destinygoldenstar]

Kaede & Kuran (Creative And Colorful Pretty Cure)

Kaede and Kuran form The Shokyo Sisters, a duo under the rule of Master Shokyo with the power of illusions. They consider themselves the children of Master Shokyo, doing their best to bring their father back to their lives. They worship their father despite not being able to properly communicate with him for years, under the impression that he loves them. Once he's revived, they can be a family, and nobody will ever destroy them again.

Kaede (The one on the left) is the older of the two, and the leader of the villain faction. (Since Master Shokyo is imprisoned) She is the one calling most of the shots on their operations, and the one with the closest connection to their master. She's mature, strict, and sure of herself. She openly disrespects Silvertone for prioritizing her pride over the goal of reviving Master Shokyo. She's the willing carrier of her father's ideals of life being best when there is nothing in it, and is the main catalyst for preventing her family and her co-workers from thinking otherwise. Mindless worship is good. Art is bad. You are nothing. Being something is a sin.

Though she is a villain, Kaede has a caring side, especially towards her father and her sister Kuran. She loves and protects Kuran, and will refuse to put her in harms way unless she feels like she has no choice for their mission. Kuran is the only family she has left. Everyone else in her family was taken away from her ever since Canvas Corner was destroyed.

Before the destruction, Kaede was a member of Canvas Corner society as a Pretty Cure that specialized in puppetry. This is why her powers are illusion based, as she can mess with people's minds. But when it was destroyed and she lost her father and sister, her only creation, the one exception to all her ideals, is her handmade sister, Kuran.

Kuran (the one on the right) is the only member of the villain faction that was born and raised in it her entire life. She is a puppet made shortly after the destruction of Canvas Corner. She was given life by Kaede's Pretty Cure powers that she gave up to make her. Kuran has never known anything outside of what Kaede has taught her: Earth is a revolting place where humans do the evil deeds of making art. She is worth nothing and she has no life. The only purpose of her existence is to aid in reviving their father, Master Shokyo. She will feel alive and real once Master Shokyo is revived, because he will love her. At least, that's Kaede's words, Kuran never actually met Master Shokyo.

Kuran, having no experience with Earth, art, or life, relishes in her status as a privileged daughter of Master Shokyo. She's the gremlin child of the faction. A whiny, stubborn and spoiled brat who treats the other Erasers more like butlers than people. She always looks for fun and joy and something interesting in her life when she can, which is hard since she lives in the ruins of a kingdom. Since she was told she achieves that feeling of interest by Master Shokyo reviving and loving her, she also wants to contribute in the war so she can earn her father's love. She wants to become an Eraser and go to Earth so she can see it for herself and how revolting it is, and to help defeat the evil Pretty Cure she's heard so much about. That's interesting.

However, Kaede won't promote Kuran to being an Eraser because she doesn't want to put her sister in danger.

These sisters mean a lot to each other as all they have, and will do everything to get their ideal world.

STAY TUNED FOR MORE CHARACTERS FOR THIS FANMADE SEASON!

Design & Character notes (Spoiler Free):

Kaede and Kuran play the role as the sympathetic villains. They are villains. They don't hesitate to do their job. However, it's all because both of them genuinely believe Master Shokyo loves them and they can be a family. They carry his beliefs to an identity stealing degree.

In Kaede's case, it's all from trauma. Some of said trauma I didn't address in the summary. She's a traumatized woman who is trying to cope with everything by living in the past, even though it's all gone. And if she has to strip away what she has left of herself, so be it.

This also makes Kaede a dictator like figure. Especially towards Kuran. She loves Kuran. She truly does. However, her methods of raising Kuran is nothing short of emotional abuse and gaslighting since the day Kuran was brought to life. Kaede just doesn't realize that's what she's doing.

In Kuran's case, it's from never knowing any better. She was made and raised to believe everything she's told, with no life experience of herself. Nothing that could make her feel, well, real. It does madden her from how boring the lifestyle is, but she won't admit that or believe the culture she's been raised in is the source of it.

So at the end of it, if she has no experience to back up her beliefs, how much weight do they actually have in her head?

Kuran, despite being the living embodiment of a creation, with a story behind it regarding its creator, FROM A PRETTY CURE'S MAGIC NO LESS, she is denied any sense of belonging in humanity and the beauties of living. That, and the other Erasers hate her. To them, she's an annoying brat.

Kuran's name literally means 'blank'. She is blank. That's her identity. Idk what more you want me to say.

Basically, if you want to know how to look at them: Think Pinocchio and Geppetto. But if they were both evil, and Pinocchio was preached against becoming a real boy.

Kuran has some design elements inspired by the classic character if you can see the overall dress, and the bolts attaching her joints.

She's also the only villain with white hair. It's done so she stands out as different from the other. (Another Reason????)

Kaede meanwhile has a more mature look, and a black shawl hanging over her, representing her loyalty to Master Shokyo. She also has more purple accents to her look. Because again, she used to be a Pretty Cure before she gave it all up. (She was purple)

The two sisters also have the yin yang motif. Kaede having the yin and Kuran having the yang. This is to show their unity.

[stardustdiiving]

Acrostic: a Writing WIP Game

Rules: you will be given a word. Share a sentence/excerpt from your wip(s) that begins with each letter of the word

got tagged by @chaoticgenderfae here, my word was FLAME

Half of these from my fic where Wanderer looks after Nahida who’s missing most of her memory.

The other two are from a one shot where Nahida does repairs on Wanderer and a series of snippets about the Archons interacting respectively

🍂

“Fine, okay. Nothing we can do about it now, I suppose,” Wanderer snorts, then pauses, narrowing his eyes at Traveler. “And let me guess. You called me here because I’m supposed to look after her—isn't that right?”

“Um…well, yeeees,” Paimon begins, uncertainly. “You are who Nahida said to notify if someone went wrong…”

“You sure don’t sound very enthusiastic about this decision, “ Wanderer comments snidely. “How interesting. I thought you and the Dendro Archon were friends—don’t you trust her judgement?”

Paimon puffs up like a small, indignant balloon, stomping her tiny feet midair. “Oh—you—!”

“—Alright, alright, break it up,” Traveler cuts in, bemused, waving their hands at both of them. They turn to look at Wanderer. “What Paimon means is…well, we’re just worried about her.”

🍁

“Let’s see…” Nahida mused, carefully studying the mechanics of Wanderer’s shoulder. “Um, okay. I think I can see where the damage is. Hang on, this may hurt a little.”

Then, she abruptly snapped Wanderer’s shoulder back into it’s socket, setting Wanderer’s shoulder alight with a violent stab of pain,

“OW!”

“Sorry!” Nahida squeaked, jumping back to dodge one of Wanderer’s flailing arms before it could elbow her in the face. “Very sorry Wanderer!”

“Who gave you your medical license?!”

“Um—no one! I don’t have a medical license!”

🍂

“A puppet,” He tells Nahida.

“Oh, I see. Interesting,” She pauses for a moment, thinking, then asks, “Why don’t you have any strings?”

“Don’t need them.”

Nahida tilts her head curiously. “Why?”

“Because I’m special and blessed with the gift of individual will,” Wanderer explains.

“Ohhhh,” Nahida replies. “Okay.”

🍁

(cw for discussion of child neglect)

“My job is to stay with you until your memories come back,” Wanderer says firmly. “I’m not just going to leave you here unsupervised.”

“Oh,” says Nahida, furrowing her brow in confusion. “Why not? I’m always unsuper-ised.”

Wanderer presses his lips together into a thin line. “…Well, you shouldn’t be.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re…” Wanderer begins sternly, then trails off with a sudden sinking feeling. He looks down at Nahida, trying not to frown. “…Very young for that.”

“Oh,” says Nahida. She pauses for a moment, thoughtful. “Well, I’m not actually very young—Gods figure out how to take care of themselves a lot faster than humans do—so I can survive on my own just fine. I wouldn’t need help eating, or learning things, or looking after myself…so there’s not much logic to you staying?”

A pause. Nahida looks up at Wanderer, then furrows her brow, suddenly nervous. “Did I say something wrong?”

“…No,” Wanderer says immediately, dropping down a meticulous wall of neutrality across his expression and tone. “No, you didn’t.”

🍂

Ei turned to her with a deeply rueful expression. “These social gatherings really are quite troublesome, aren’t they?”

“Poooor Ei,” Yae Miko said in a bemused, overly sympathetic drawl. “Forced to endure an entire night of Barbados’ drunken ballads without being able to strike him down with lightning. You tragic thing.”

“You would understand the gravity of my plight far more if you were actually there,” Ei protested. “It was entirely too much.”

“I think you just can’t appreciate good music from the heart,” Miko hummed. “I would’ve enjoyed it. A few drinks in, and we could’ve sang a wonderful duet together.”

“Miko,” Ei gasped, giving her familiar an absolutely horrified expression at the thought. “No!”

[turnupswritessometimes]

Ricordami - Lies of P - P/Romeo - Ch2

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56555755/chapters/143738143

Summary: P decides to repair the king of puppets. It sends him on a journey to discover what happened to Carlo and Romeo - and to discover whether puppets can love, after all.

Previous (First) | Next

2

"You're distracted."

It was Geppetto, who said it. His father. The one who created him. P blinked. He sat in the chair, in his father's rooms, very still; he always had to sit very still, in this chair. His chest was open, as his organs were repaired. Upgraded. It reminded him of what he was.

"I was thinking," he said. He was now – about what Romeo had told him. About what he had been made for.

His Father made a sound in the back of his throat, like he was amused. P looked at him, careful not to twitch.

"What were you thinking about?" Geppetto asked, as though he was indulging a small child; as though P couldn’t really think.

P kept his gaze steady. It was a dangerous admission, but he wanted to see any change to his father's expression, no matter how small, when he said, "The king of puppets."

And there it was. A twitch. Just a twitch of Geppetto's mouth.

"And what about the King of Puppets?" he asked, as though they were discussing the weather.

P listened to the ticking of his inner workings, for a moment. He could not say the full truth, and luckily, he didn’t have to. But he also didn’t want to return to Romeo with no new information, and he wanted to tell him something. Something useful.

"There was another puppet inside."

Geppetto stopped. Just for a moment. Then he reached for another tool, as though that had always been his plan. P felt the click as his insides were adjusted.

"It was human," he continued. “Human-shaped.”

"I see," Geppetto said. "A human puppet within the king of puppets."

As though he didn't know anything at all. He finished his repairs, and closed P's chest cavity. His palm stayed pressed there, and his father seemed to be in deep thought too.

"Do you know who he was?" P pressed.

"Just another aspect of the King of Puppets," Geppetto said.

"But he was..." P looked up, meeting his father's eyes, and the word almost faded. He finished, "Different."

"How was he different?" Geppetto brushed the hair back from P's face, almost absentmindedly. He didn't like the movement; it felt too intimate; too much like he was a pampered child. Had Carlo felt the same way? Was he feeling Carlo’s feelings?

P looked over his father's shoulder. "He was like me."

Geppetto paused.

"Well," he said. "You don't need to worry about that, any longer, now that he's been destroyed."

Now that P had destroyed him.

And repaired him.

P forced himself to ask, before he lost his nerve. "Did you build him?”

"The King of Puppets was a special case. It had to be. It was a king, after all. It needed a suit to appear as one."

P wondered if he should say the name. If he should say the King of Puppets was a he and he was called Romeo. But, he hesitated. He didn't know how his father would react, though he had a suspicion it would not be well. He needed to make sure it was the right time, to reveal what he knew.

"But that doesn't matter now." His father cupped his chin, and tilted P's head up. He didn’t resist, but he was finding that he didn’t like that, either. "He's destroyed. You destroyed him, son."

It was said gently, but it felt like an accusation. Yes, P had destroyed him. He'd killed Romeo.

And that had been what his father had wanted.

So, he tried Venigni, instead. Waited until his legion arm was stuck in the great clamp, and Venigni was improving it for him.  

"There was another puppet, inside the King of Puppets," he said, and watched Venigni's face closely; just as closely as he’d watched his father.

He raised an eyebrow, glancing up at P. Vaguely interested, but nothing more. "Is that so?"

"Do you know anything about that?"

"I'm afraid not, mi compange. I designed the King of puppets, but I am not cut out for the building."

P stayed silent. He looked down at his legion arm, in the clamp. It was held so tightly that he couldn’t move it at all. He wondered, again, why his arm was a weapon. Why, if he was Carlo, his father had not made him perfect.

"I did not design it with another puppet inside," Venigni said. "Though, I suppose that is clever. It would put less strain on this big joints if there was a heart controlling it. If that puppet got damaged, it would be simple to switch it out."

Switch it out. Puppets were disposable parts. He'd seen that, at the factory. Reams and reams of blank puppets. That was him, too.

Venigni must have seen something on his face, because he said: "Of course, you are different, my friend. You're unique."

P nodded. It was truer than Venigni knew. He was unique, because he carried Carlo's Ergo inside him. But he was still a puppet. If his father had used Carlo's ergo like this once – would he do it again?

And wasn’t Romeo unique too? Wasn’t every puppet unique, if they all had their own individual Ergo?

Venigni patted his shoulder. P nodded again, and tried to smile. It felt forced, and awkward, and yet, Venigni smiled back as though nothing was wrong.

He supposed that was what puppets were made for.

*

There was nowhere private to talk to Sophia. He had the nagging thought that no one else could see her. He wasn’t sure when that had started, or when he had really thought that, but he thought it, now. He'd never seen her speak to the other members of the hotel. He’d never heard them mention her. She was another one of his secrets.

"Who was the King of Puppets?" he asked. She stood at the gramophone, but for once P didn't want to listen to it.

"What do you mean?" Sophia asked.

"There was a puppet inside. He had the necklace."

The necklace that had made his hair change. That had made him look so ill and pale, according to Sophia. That had sent that spear of heavy, horrible feeling all the way through to his core. He watched her face closely. She frowned, seeming just as perplexed.

"That necklace belonged to one of the boys, at the Monad Charity House. I remember that much," she said. Carefully. As though he would break if he learnt too much at once. "But that boy had nothing to do with the King of Puppets."

But he did. That boy had been within the King of Puppets. It was clear that Sophia didn't know that. Still P nodded, as though his question had been answered. But she was still watching him. She raised her fingers, and brushed his hair. Not like his father had. As though he was made of glass, and her touch would break him, but she still couldn’t help herself.

"You changed, after that fight."

P nodded. "I'm still trying to understand why."

Though he thought he was putting the pieces together. At least some of them. He held Carlo's ergo in him. Romeo had meant a lot to Carlo. That piece of him had remembered. That had been why he’d felt that rush of grief – that rush of horror, at what he’d done. What he didn’t even know he’d done.

He knew that part, now, but what had happened before? How had Carlo and Romeo's story ended?

Sophia smiled at him. "I support you, whatever you decide to do, my clever one."

It should have felt reassuring; it usually did. But he wondered, this time, if it was really true. If she knew that he'd repaired Romeo, would she still support his choices?

That was it. The only people he could reliably ask about the past. P wasn't sure where else he could turn, and he didn't want to come back to Romeo empty-handed. Not again. He stared out of the windows of the hotel, and tried to remember.

He didn't know how to remember.

It was Gemini who said, "Didn't we see flyers about the Monad Charity House? Did you keep them, pal?"

He did. He kept everything that he found. It felt like a hunger; a need to know what Krat was like before he'd awoken. To piece together the parts of the broken city. He'd brought them back, and smuggled them in the unused room he’d claimed for himself. It was his treasure trove of the past.

P found the papers. Found a poster for a performance, with scribbles on it. He looked at it again. 'R.'

Then there was the notice. That the house was shutting, because of the petrification disease. It had reached them.

P brought both papers to Romeo, that night. "No one could tell me anything useful."

Romeo sighed. He looked at the poster first. He almost smiled; it seemed like he was trying to remember how to.

"I do remember this," he said, shaking his head. His hair was spun gold in the candlelight. "They were desperate for Carlo to advertise the house with me – they said we made the perfect advertisement. He really didn’t want to do it. I don't think anyone's got a good picture of him."

Romeo had written that he looked like a donkey.

P didn't say anything. He watched Romeo; it was easier to watch Romeo than look at the boy on the flyer; the boy he was made to be. Who looked back up, and studied his face. Closely. They sat so close, on the chairs of the audience, that P could hear his red eye click in its socket.

"You really do look just like him," he said. "Apart from—"

He reached forward, and lifted a lock of P's hair.

"It happened when I found your necklace," he said.

Romeo dropped the hair. He frowned. "So you do remember. A part of you, at least." "I can’t control it," P replied. "I would if I could."

"Would you?" Romeo leant forward. He was still taller than him, and for once, that bothered P. It made him feel defensive; he shifted back in his seat. "Why? Because I told you to? Do you do whatever you’re told?” "I don't," P said. Argued. "I repaired you. I wasn’t told to do that."

"But you don't want to remember. You said that."

"I will,” P said, and hadn’t realised he’d felt that way, until he said it. He continued, “If it helps you."

"Why?"

P blinked. He didn't know how to describe it; this pull in his chest. "You're my friend."

Romeo stared at him. He looked disappointed. He stood, and turned away, nudging the chair out of his way. The light cast a halo in his hair. He looked like an angel, P thought; the kind of angel in the stained glass of the cathedral. An angel in an old school uniform.

"The petrification disease reached the charity house," P said, to Romeo's back.

"We don't know when I left. When – Carlo left." Romeo shook his head. "I refuse to believe Geppetto would leave him there. Even he wasn't that cruel."

But he was cruel enough to make Romeo the King of Puppets, it seemed. To send P to destroy him. He didn't say that. It wouldn't be fair. It would lead to more arguments, and he didn’t want to argue.

He sat, tentatively, whilst Romeo examined the papers he'd brought. His gaze seemed distant, and it was as though he had a great weight on his shoulders. P didn't say anything. There didn't seem much to say. Romeo didn't tell him to leave, either, and he didn’t want to. He kept watching him.

When he finally did need to leave – when they heard the clock chiming the hour, Romeo caught his wrist. "You don't have to do this. I can try and remember, myself."

"I want to remember," P said. "I want to know what happened."

Romeo blinked. His hazel eye examined him.

"I want to know who I was built to be." He wondered, if he was human, if his voice would crack. It didn't, this time. “Even if I’m not him.”

Romeo almost smiled, and it worked better this time. His eyes seemed warmer than before.

"Well," he said. "Good for you, puppet."

"P."

"P," Romeo echoed. He leant forward, again, and, lingered, smelling of smoke and oil. He kissed P’s cheek.

And he felt his Ergo spark.

*

P wasn’t sure how the thought came to him. He didn’t even know how he did it. Not exactly. It started with the hard crystals of Ergo he sometimes found. He’d always released them; they crushed easily enough in the fist of his legion hand. It gave him strength; it released Ergo; made him feel a rush of relief, as the blue light flowed away. When he had told Sophia, she had said it was a good thing.

“You’re helping,” she’d said. “You’re helping Krat.”

But then he’d started – listening, when he crushed it. The Ergo seemed to whisper to him, as it was released. For just a second, he could hear something, within it. If he closed his eyes, he could catch a glimpse. It started as a flash; a bedroom, with rich curtains and shining oak furniture; a different bedroom, a dormitory, with rows of iron bedframes and no fire.

The glimpses developed into something more. Turned into flashes of sound; of music, a line from a play, the sound of puppets talking. The sound of a voice, laughing. Romeo’s voice. He knew it was Romeo.

He tried more. Hungrily hunted for larger chunks of Ergo, so that he could stop still, and feel them smash in his palm. To get a glimpse of this other life. It felt like pressing himself against a mirror, just able to see someone else on the other side.

His life. Carlo’s life.

“Monad Charity House,” he told Romeo, the next time they were sat inside the opera house. Romeo rolled his good eye. The other clicked.

“We already knew that. I could have tome you that.”

“You’d have lessons,” P continued, undeterred. “Arithmetic, writing. Fencing. You were learning to be stalkers.”

“That’s also nothing new to me,” Romeo said. He leant against the stage, his elbows resting on it, as though he was bored.

“Fencing lessons would be out in the courtyard,” P said. “Even in the winter. Even when there was frost. The wooden sticks would sting your knuckles for a long time, if you accidentally got hit. They’d go crimson.”

Romeo looked at him properly, then. He stepped forward, his hand on the back of one of the ornate chairs. His shoulders were straight, and he stood tall. P thought he looked like a prince; he moved like a prince, and he was as handsome as one. Only  the red eye, which exposed his puppet wiring.

“That’s right,” Romeo said. Slowly.

“The arithmetic room was always dark. It smelt, of tallow candles. The teacher; he was old, and spat when he talked.”

This time, Romeo smiled. Just a little. Then, he turned away, letting his hair fall in front of his expression. “You’re remembering.”

“A little. I can’t piece everything together,” P said. He paused, behind his own chair. “Are you?”

“It’s coming together very slowly,” Romeo replied. “But nothing that I need to remember. I need to remember what happened to him. What happened to me.”

There was pain, creeping into his voice. It seemed to defy his puppet voice, and defy P’s workings too, because he felt something stir in his chest. A something that made him push his chair aside, and cross to Romeo’s. To reach for his hand. He grazed their fingers together. Romeo’s twitched, on the chair back.

He took it in his own. It felt awkward. He didn’t know how to be careful, or gentle.

“I’ll remember for you,” he said.

Romeo stiffened. He didn’t look up. “But you don’t want to.”

P shook his head. His hair twitched with the movement. “I said I would. For you.”

Romeo did pull his hand away, then, and sharply. There was a clink at the contact. He held it to his chest, as though he had been burnt. “Just because I was Carlo’s friend?”

Because he always helped the people who needed it. Because he just knew that he needed to help Romeo. P’s hand hovered over the wood of the chair. He didn’t know what to do with it, now. His fingers twitched, but he kept staring at Romeo. At the golden sweep of his hair, where it hovered just by his chin. It swept, like a comet, as he turned back to meet P’s eyes.

“Or is it because you don’t know who you are?”

“Who I am doesn’t matter,” P said, slowly. It was true. He was a weapon. A tool. Something Geppetto built to save Krat. Something he built to house Carlo's Ergo; to keep it safe. “I’m a puppet.”

Romeo pushed the chair aside. It toppled, and crashed, clattering on the wooden floor. P looked at it, because it was easier than meeting Romeo’s mismatched eyes. It was easier to stare at the abandoned chair, and the shattered tile beneath it. They had shattered that, during their fight. It didn’t matter; his cheeks were caught by Romeo’s hands. It was Romeo who tilted his face up, determinedly. His red eye gleamed; his hazel one soft. There were flecks of green and gold that caught the light.

“You’re not,” he said. “You’re not just a puppet.”

P didn’t move. Didn’t twitch a muscle. This was different, from when Geppetto touched him – from when Venigni touched him. It made his Ergo stir. It felt close to the surface. “You only think that because I have Carlo’s Ergo.”

“I don’t.” Romeo stepped closer. He was only an inch away from P, almost curving into him. If they were human, he’d probably feel the warmth from him. His blond hair fell forward, grazing P’s cheeks. “You forget that I’m a puppet too. I know how it feels. I know how they all feel. I was their king, remember? They’re not just puppets.”

P felt his springs whirring. He felt hot. Really warm. He couldn’t look away from Romeo. For a moment, he caught a flash, of the boy he’d once been. The real boy. How his hazel eyes had shone, especially in the candlelight. How he’d smiled at Carlo, when they stayed up late talking. The starlight would make his teeth flash; would make his eyes twinkle. His voice would be soft, and his words would come out in a rush, as though they were running out of time.

His hand moved. Very slowly. He felt every spring tick with the movement. Until his fingers; his legion arm; grazed Romeo’s cheek. He brushed the hair back, behind Romeo’s ear. He couldn’t feel it, not with that arm, but perhaps that was good. He was feeling too much already, and he didn’t have any words for what he was feeling.

“Lampwick,” he murmured. He knew that name.

Romeo breathed a sigh. He closed the distance between them. Their chests and hips bumped together, hard. One of his hands slipped round to the back of P’s neck, and he smiled, softly.

“That’s right.”

He held his breath. He thought Romeo was doing the same. He’d never been this close to anyone before. Had only ever had Romeo look at him so softly – as though he was more than a weapon.

Romeo kissed him, just once, once again. As though he could be human.

And P almost believed it wasn’t just because of Carlo.

*

It was kissing Romeo, that third time, that gave him the idea. If crushing Ergo by himself helped him to access the memories locked deep inside his own chest – then what would happen if they crushed it together?

So, he brought a large chunk of Ergo, one he’d found whilst fighting his way back to the hotel from the theatre. It glittered and shone, and he struggled to keep it hidden in his satchel as he smuggled it back.

Romeo raised his eyebrows, when P brought it out. The blue light shone on Romeo’s cheeks, catching in his dark eye.

“I’ve been – considering,” P said. They knelt on the floor of the stage, and he cradled the Ergo crystal in his palms, as though he was holding a baby bird. “And I do want to know. I want to know why my father built me. Why I look like…”

“Carlo,” Romeo finished.

“I want to know about who he was.” He paused. “Who you were.”

Because Romeo kept kissing P, and he hadn’t stopped him, yet. He didn’t mind. It felt – good. The touch. For someone to want him. Not because of weapons, or legion arms, or even to play the piano for them, but just because he was him.

Even if he was only interested in him because of Carlo.

Romeo nodded. He smiled, briefly. “Thank you.”

Then he put his hands over the Ergo chunk too. They held it, together. P closed his eyes. He felt Romeo took a deep breath, too.

They crushed the Ergo.

And they were in the front room. The front room of the Monad Charity House. It was summer. A hot, sweltering summer. P – Carlo – sat in a large armchair, near the window, and Romeo sat on the windowsill, half-hidden by the lacy curtain. The sun caught his hair, and turned it into a blazing halo. The lace made him look like a saint.

And yet, he looked tired. He pressed his temple against the glass, staring out at the street. It was deserted. White flags hung from the windows opposite them. There was no wind to flutter them.

“Your father’s coming,” Romeo said. His voice was low, and tired, but still surprised.

“I don’t care,” Carlo scoffed.

Romeo didn’t move. He watched a fat fly, as it bumped against the glass, again and again, desperate to escape. A record played, quietly, in the corner, crackling more than it made any music, and there was a smell. A damp, dank smell.

“He’ll take you away from here,” Romeo said.

“It’s too late for that,” Carlo replied. “If he wanted to keep me safe, he would have come sooner.”

Romeo didn’t reply.

Carlo didn’t move to look through the window. He stayed sat. Coughs came from upstairs. The sound of wailing.

“And I’m not leaving you,” Carlo said.

“You have to.” Romeo looked at him, then.

“Well, I’m not.”

There was a knock at the front door. A brisk, business-like knock. Neither boy moved. They sat, listening; to the sound of footsteps on the stairs; the door opening. The sound of Geppetto’s voice as he gave his orders, and – Carlo knew – pushed past matron despite her protests. Listened to the sound of his cane in the hall; for effect over really needing it. He opened the door to the front room.

“Carlo!”

Carlo’s gaze felt lazy. He looked over, baking in his uniform, sweat trickling down his shirt collar.

“Thank the Lord – you’re alright.” Geppetto crossed to him. His scarf was pulled up, over his mouth and nose.

Carlo didn’t twitch. “Why are you here?”

“I heard the petrification disease had spread. I’m taking you away from here, out of the city, where it’s safe.”

Carlo shook his head, slowly. Determinedly.

“You should go,” Romeo said, softly. He still hadn’t twitched. That was different, Carlo remembered. Romeo always had impeccable manners. He always stood to greet adult visitors; always smiled and shook their hand.

“No,” Carlo said. “You can’t disappear for months and then suddenly decide you want to play saviour.”

“I’ve been very busy,” Geppetto replied. Reasonable, but defensive. “My work – we’ve been very busy. I got here as soon as I could.”

“Well, you’re too late.” Carlo stood. Heavily, using the arms of the chair for leverage. His body felt heavy; as heavy as lead. “The disease is here. In the house.”

That’s what the coughing upstairs was. The crying. The discovery of dry skin becoming scales; of lungs turning to stone. He watched the fear on his father’s face, as he realised the truth of it. The look of horror and panic. He stepped forward, and Carlo didn’t move, when he took hold of his wrist. He let his father pull up his sleeves, let him look at his face and neck.

There were no scales. No sign of the petrification disease.

“There’s no time to delay,” Geppetto continued. He tugged Carlo’s wrist.

He dug his heels into the carpet. He was still stronger than Geppetto. For now, at least. He shook his head.

“Not without Lampwick.”

“Lampwick,” Geppetto repeated, with a hint of annoyance. He looked to the boy at the window. “Fine. Very well.”

“No,” Romeo said. “Thank you, sir, but I can’t come with you.”

There was a silence – a silence that was horrifying to Carlo. His stomach lurched, and he tugged his hand free from his father’s grip.

“Don’t,” he said. Don’t show him, he thought. It would ruin everything.

Romeo didn’t listen – of course he didn’t. He did turn. And when he did, it was obvious. The skin at his temple had hardened. It mottled over his brow like dragon scales, the eye underneath milky white.

Romeo had the petrification disease. It was advanced. There was no hope.

Carlo looked at him. His Lampwick; his Romeo; dying.

“I won’t go,” he said. His voice was a soft, cracked thing.

“You have to,” Romeo replied.

*

And then P awoke. It felt like that. It was just like waking up, although he never slept as a puppet. He became aware again, of the wooden floor underneath him, of the crackle of the gas-lamps, the cool of the air. It was not summer. Not anymore.

He opened his eyes.

Romeo stared back at him.

They didn’t speak. The fragments of Ergo still swirled cobalt around them, disappearing into the air. There seemed little need to discuss what they had seen. They had both caught the petrification disease, whilst they were still at the Charity House. Romeo had it worse, it seemed. He’d had the scales. Carlo had not.

There were still a lot of questions. But that was a start.

Romeo traced the tips of his fingers over P’s palms. “We worked there, for a while, after we graduated. You don’t walk into Stalker work easily. Becoming a bastard, sure, but not a stalker.”

P nodded. He watched their hands. “Why did he arrive too late?”

Romeo shook his head. He smiled, sadly. He continued tracing circles on P’s palms, rhythmically. “He always did. Geppetto was a busy man, and his choice was always his work over his son.”

P watched Romeo’s expression. “But he loved Carlo.”

Romeo’s smile widened, a little further. “He loved the idea of a son.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know. I don’t, either.”

Romeo stopped, then. His fingers paused, in their exploration of P’s hands. He looked up, his crimson eye piercing.

"Can you feel anything? I can’t feel."

"A little,” P admitted. It was true. “Not at first, but – the more I lie…the more I feel.”

Romeo tilted his head to one side. “Have you lied to me?”

P should have. He lied to everyone else. But, no, he realised, not to Romeo. And the way he asked it; as though it would’ve been bad to; made him rethink everything. He twisted their fingers together, marvelling in the way their fingers fitted together. Like a machine.

“I was told lying is the way to humanity,” P said.

“Perhaps.” Romeo squeezed their fingers together. “I can see how you would think that. Puppets can’t lie. But being truthful – being able to have trust that someone will tell you the truth – that’s human too. It’s – complicated.”

He sighed. He looked beautiful, P thought. A human, from one side, and a puppet from the other.

“Being human is complicated,” P said.

Maybe one day, Romeo would be. Again. Maybe whatever was happening to P could happen to him too. Perhaps they would both become human. Once more.

He didn’t know if he wanted that.

If they did, then would P become Carlo? Would he lose all sense of himself? Or would he lose Carlo forever? If that happened, then would Romeo want to stay with him? He cared about that. He didn’t want to lose Romeo, not now. Not when he was the only one who understood him.

Not when he looked at P, as though he was more than just a puppet.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

Trimax Thoughts Vol. 3 Pt. 1

Some more miscellaneous thoughts. I realized it's actually more convenient to do these before any analysis because. Well. I actually haven't read this manga before. Why was I trying to do full analyses before just letting myself read it. Why am I a dumbass.

Anyways.

It's the repression my dude

(Ok but can we talk about how Wolfwood doesn't really lie and his eyes convey his emotions whether he wants it or not and he still feels strongly because that attachment keeps him going and then how Vash has had to withdraw and shove everything into a box somewhere deep inside him because he always has to maintain a distance and always has to leave aughhh)

Ohhhhh that part where Vash is able to tell exactly how many strikes are incoming... I love how he becomes really precise and calculating in a fight. It's a really great way to show the severity of a situation and his skill and experience! (Bonus points: he does this in Tristamp too - I still cannot get over the way the animators chose to have him move right before he pulls out his gun in ep 1 - I went on an unhinged ramble about that. He's always fluid and grounded. I adore those animators they did a fantastic job.)

!!! I think this is the first time we've actually seen Knives' face since the Fifth Moon Incident! ...there's something to examine in this.

Feral Wolfwood <3

Yikes. If we wanted more emphasis on the way a lot of people around Vash do not stop to consider the severity of death. The violence is so typical in this world it's treated as a scene from which one can be detached. Vash's honest distress and compassion as entertainment :(

Hey. What the fuck.

The baby with the gun would be a lot funnier if I didn't know what Leonof had to do to people to make his puppets.

SICK AND TWISTED. WTF.

Ok say what you will though but Leonof so far has been the only one of the GHG that I think actually understands the assignment. Like. Yeah, this sure is the way to fucking break the guy. What the hell.

Oh, Vash knows him? Maybe that's why Leonof knows how to hurt him so well...?

AUGH he had puppet Doc, who vouched for Vash earlier to Brad, call him a demon!!! This also means he was killed! WTF

AUGHHHH wolfwood :(((

Meryl and Milly I love you so so much

Whjfhbdsjfbhv??? Girl??????

Vash: *starts blaming himself* Luida: "no." Vash: "oh, ok." :(

Hair down Vash <3

I really love the way we find out a bit more about Vash in this chapter. Him taking Meryl and Milly to a special place that helps him relax and heal and feel closer to Rem, even if he doesn't quite tell them that's what it is. Meryl knowing it's important somehow anyways and feeling like she can see him a little more clearly. Wolfwood freaked the hell out by the idea that Vash is immortal, but instead of leaving it at his assumptions, he still goes to talk to Luida and ask questions, who immediately proceeds to emphasize how lonely yet kind he is. We learn a lot about Vash in this chapter without him actually revealing anything about himself directly - all through other people, and the impact he's made on them. And I like how even though we find out more and more the differences between human and whatever Vash actually is, we circle right back around to confirming what we already knew about him from the beginning - he's fundamentally a kind man with a lot of pain in his heart who always makes the active choice to be nice. Just. Agh.

Wolfwood, running while carting his stupid IV pole over his shoulder: "oh fuck I need to protect women (and Vash)"

Softest look I've ever seen. What.

But ohhh does this make me happy. Because he's spent this volume thinking Vash has no survival instinct because he's immortal, etc., which terrifies him because he cannot understand not fighting to survive. Vash's smile makes a comeback here, but he now understands that it's not just a mask, it is the way he fights to survive. That smile is Vash's struggle to live in the same way the violent struggle is his, and Wolfwood I think/hope is starting to realize again that the gap is not so wide between them. He's calmed enough to remember that he actually likes this guy. Augh.

[lumilasi]

UPDATE; Forgot Ava's fae tail. Also decided to add some shading because why not?

I've always wanted to make one of these but rarely have patience for it. I decided to try and tackle it today, and in this case I decided to only focus on what I consider as the "main" characters of NCP.

There are plenty of highly important side characters, but that would be its own set I reckon. Maybe I make that later? That set would have wayy more ladies too, I was kinda disappointed how the "main" group ended up only having 2 lol, albeit the 2 are hugely important.

Curse my eternal struggles with designing women

Also tried to kinda show the difference in the body-types that I've imagined for them, but....I'm not that good with it yet, so the differences with these 8 aren't that big OTL

(Note; Hitomi, the little girl at the end, belongs to my friend @mad-hatter-rici)

Brief intro of each character below for those unfamiliar:

Jurou Alistair Araknos: The Protagonist protagonist, a single dad Soul Eater tattooist, who recently found out he has a half-human daughter from a previous relationship. He's already been raising 2 adoptive sons, but a daughter is a whole different situation... especially given she's partially human.

Caelan Delune Araknos: Jurou's first adoptive son, a sea serpent who he took in after he lost his family & Caelan's adult cousin was unable to take care of him due to mental troubles. Despite not being a Soul Eater, his family embraces him fully as one of their own.

Claude Faylune: A tiger-butterfly fae from a once well-known swordsman family. He works in Jurou's tattoo parlor and is also dating his oldest son, Caelan. While he's got a temper, he's a very trusted friend and coworker.

Avane Faydream/Ava Mantis: A mantis fairy, Claude's coworker. The daughter of an influential Council member/head of a special secret agency called The Shadowless. She knows her dad too well, and does not always agree with his tactics, often getting secretly involved to steer things into a better direction. Knows her father is keeping an eye on Jurou due to his power, and does her best to make sure her boss won't get in trouble with the Council.

Roman "Lupo" Bosco: A Grimmhound and a former mobster, he was rescued from his forced servitude by Ava and Jurou, latter whom removed his cursed tattoo on his neck, that kept him from escaping his abusive/obsessive boss. Now works in Shinji's cafe and is Ava's loving boyfriend/often acts as a guardian/protector for the two youngest kids of Jurou when he's unavailable.

Shinji Yoma: A Dream-eater and an uncle of Avane, he is much more knowledgeable about things than he let's on, as intelligent and cunning as his older brother Kenzo (Ava's father), but notably more kindhearted. Runs a cafe next to Jurou's tattoo parlor and is his current love interest. Often works together with Ava to keep Jurou from getting in trouble.

Ichirou Araknos: Jurou's nephew/adoptive younger son. He is small for his teen age, due to being born prematurely. His mother died of Soul Eater equivalent of cancer, and his abusive father was devoured by her secretly some years before her death. Ichirou is a Soul Eater like his uncle, but also has puppeteer powers inherited from her puppeteer demon father.

Hitomi Araknos: Jurou's half-human daughter. Her mother Saeko had a relationship with him years ago that they mutually broke off due to him feeling he was too dangerous for her; he hadn't been aware she was pregnant at the time, and only found out once Hitomi used her mother's summoning amulet to call him there, as a group of magic obsessed zealots were trying to harness her powers for their purposes. Saeko sadly died during this attack, but Hitomi was saved, and now lives with her father.

[toofasttoocool-reborn]

(Alternative universe for DMU) what happens when Celestia decides she wants to get rid of Hajime, how does that go for her? And how does she manage to lose everything she once had and for it to be taken by Hajime as he spanks her ass and fucks her in front of Makoto?

(If you think Hajime is going to be happy only with spanking, you don't know him.)

CRASH

One could swear this was an earthquake, or maybe even worst, the all the castle walls seemed to crack down under the sheer force exerted. "Christ!Makoto!Darling!Darling!Answer me!"

Makoto had none of his usual pride and arrogance, he was bloody, bruised up and seemed like his spine got shattered on impact, luckily or maybe not so much, the boy was still alive, thanking the accelerate evolution to have kept him alive, the mistress of the house thanked the gods however they were that he was still breathing.

But none of the gods she called were answered, instead a devil answer the call.

The provocation have been so small and so insignificant, just a simple comment on how she was technically more powerful than him,so why...why is all her castle in ruin then? Why are all her bodyguard dead? She spends so much time building all of that, so why a simple slept like that would have been such a problem?

"Hajime!Cease this madness! It was just a jest! I was just saying..."

A laugh could be hear, high-pitched and mocking as only she could provide, wearing her special occasion white kimono and crown that suited her eternally youngish blond pigtails.

"Xoxoxoxoxo!So lammmmmeeeeeee "Eternal prime minister" my ass!You could never have grrrr..."

Hiyoko was shut down by one finger pressing against her throat by her husband, he seemed at this point to have give up on humanity and acting human, almost as if that was the real Hajime.

The owner of the castle tried his best to stand up his feet as if he would try to continue the battle, but this brave act was only meet with pathetic as he couldn't even stand falling on his ass and looking like a puppet who string would have been cut.

Celestia understood the situation and understood what she had to do, even through this act was repulsive to her.

She stood her on her heels, who seemed to make her even shorter in the fact of this demon she unclipped her expensive dress, revealing her legs and expensive underwear, then in an uncharacteristic

meek voice she said "Please...use...me,but stop...I will give you what you want...but let my husband live...please...I beg you...Great..."She glup wanted to hang herself for this, shaken and trying her best to not cry she bowed in a dogeza kissing the ground and hoping this display would help.

She couldn't remember what happened in between this moment and where she is now, what she can feel right now is intense pain, the kind that you can only feel in hell, how appropriate was it for a punishment,no pleasure was felt as her inside seemed to scream for her,Makoto wasn't an angle or a softy in bed for sure, but he cared about her being pleasure, she was orgasming all the time and felt satisfied with him and that was blissfull,this was like fire and tartarus, she was grinding her teeth trying not to scream,Hajime had no care for her pleasure for anything in her plastic doll body she was proud of,in fact he was violating and hurting her, breaking her ankle with his sheer strength and her wrist by just grabbing her, the bed that has been constructed to be an oasis in the desert, of red satin and beautiful wood, was clawed, broken, nothing seemed noble in this chamber anymore, everything seemed like a ruin.

Still she forced a smile with all her strength, and said those words, who meant nothing to her trying her best to appease him "Wow...Mas....Hajime your co...cock!Is so massive,I think I maybe love you more that this...pa...path..."She couldn't bring herself to say it, never could she call Makoto "Trash" that wasn't true, he was better in bed, he was a prince, this, this was just a beast in human form,he should be called La Bête humaine.After what seemed to be a century Celestia could finally breathe all of her bones were broken she looked nothing like a proud doll, just a broke puppet, cum was everywhere on her, so thick and smelling like rotten dead body, she wanted to meet Makoto again,feel his warmth again…

"Hehehehe, Experimenting on a prime minister….let's see if saline is resistant to bacteria…"

[mashithamel]

The Savior: JR Ward, Black Dadder Brotherhood

* I just finished Oathbringer and after that emotional roller coaster I’m ready for something with a guaranteed happy ending. But not sure if this one about the guy who went crazy is gonna do it.

* I do like a romance with a doctor in the lead, so maybe it’s more promising!

* “After all, there were no secrets between them.” John, about Xhex. Well if that isn’t the most ominous statement I’ve heard in a long time.

* Oh, Murhder doesn’t know Darius is dead 😢

* Also, still not over the spellings in this book. You would think, given how badly I routinely butcher the spelling of Wheel of Time names I would be more forgiving. But no. These books are in a special category of horrible spelling for no good reason.

* Ok, so Xhex has told John the basics of her relationship with Murhder. So what’s problem going to be? That she has some sympathy for the guy who broke after he tried to rescue her?

* Well that was certainly a very good reason for kicking someone out of the Brotherhood. Good to know there are limits.

* “Grass and trees were things to be regarded with suspicion, as they were nothing but housing units for creepies and crawlies.” I have some respect for Gerry’s outlook on the world.

* “And he refused to be the hothead who went Cro-Magnon on something like this.” Which is why John/Xhex is usually the healthiest relationship in the bunch (excepting maybe Mary/Rhage)? Which is why there *shouldn’t* be a problem here?

* “John Matthew was downwind from Xhex and Murhder as they embraced in the shadows of a stand of pine trees.” For crying out loud, John. Why go looking for drama? Give me a Mary/Rhage issue everyday of the week. They at least always start and end with sex.

* Ok. Xhex nipping this in the bud, preventing further ridiculous drama? Ugh, you guys. They are so good together, even when one of them is being an idiot.

* “This time, he compelled the guard to take them down to the top secret part of the facility, a tour guide who had no will of his own.” I’m on board with most of ‘vampires are just another species’ with long life, blood requirements, disapparation, etc. But this ability to hijack human minds and make them into complete puppets is terrifying and such a gross violation that takes it from ‘live and let live’ to ‘break out the torches and pitchforks’ pretty quickly. Or is a super handy defense in court—‘I didn’t mean to embezzel that money, a vampire made me do it!’

* How do you have “peach” eyes with blue/green irises?

* I have worked in healthcare most of my life and I have never heard a hospital gown referred to as a “johnny.” It sounds so ridiculous every time.

* This is an *extremely* long call back to John’s origins. Like, I chug through these books, and how long ago was Darius a character? To just now putting some of the pieces together?

* “He attempted to make sure his tone was gentle because sometimes you could hug someone without touching them, right?” For a supposedly crazy guy he gets some good lines.

* Also, for a supposedly crazy guy he’s really in touch with reality? Like, I’m not sure what, exactly, made him mad? No hallucinations, no wondering if things are real or not, no fractures in his reality, no pressured speech or anything. Just, a normal Brother with tragic and traumatic backstory?

* Like Throe? He’s losing touch with the fabric of reality.

* “It was the first time they had moved of their own volition.” Obviously this was going to go badly, but this is super creepy.

* Is this the first time one of them was like, ok, my name is really weird, ok? Like, Rhage and V just dropped their names like it was normal and Mary and Jane didn’t blink, right? This feel so much more normal!

* “Just two vampires, looking for the undead, ready to enjoy some good old-fashioned bloodshed. Besties.” Aww. Murhder and John/Darius are cute!

* “As Tohr walked the territory that he, as the commanding officer of the Brotherhood,” so we’re back to Tohr not committing treason after the Xcor fiasco? We can just pretend it never even happened, right?

* “What the hell was Murhder doing out here, killing lessers without permission?” Wait, vampires need *permission* to kill lessers?

* “And right next to humans. Just his style.” Hey, it was just that one (really awful) time! Sounds like he’s been pretty good for the last twenty years or so! Hasn’t everybody done a war crime once or twice?

* A playroom! And the moms hang out with the kids! Oh, hey, Bella. Long time, no see. It is about time this sort of thing gets shown. As if Rhage isn’t hanging out in that room, with or without any of the kids around…

* “Murhder, I don’t want to be responsible for killing you. Bottom line. I can’t live with that—” “You won’t remember it.” He reached out and touched her face. “My love… you will not remember it.” No joke, this is exactly the type of drama I come to this series for. The angst in this statement!! <delighted>

* “Even if I’m gone, and you have no memories of us, if John lives? He’s proof that you and I existed.” 🥺

* Sarah has not slept for coming up on 48h, right?

* Solas is allowed, but Sarah just has to go back? I’m sorry, did anyone do a background check on Solas? Like, solid criminal history. And my girl Sarah is boring as they come. Flimsy argument. Just run off together, guys. I seriously doubt anyone’s hunting you down in the Carolina’s if you stay under the radar.

* Come on. California? These guys don’t know there’s anything beyond Caldwell. They’d never think twice about you guys. Just go!

* “she couldn’t imagine how Tohr handled the death of his shellan. But the Brother had somehow continued on in his life” that is a hell of an understatement if I ever heard one!

* The glymera is going to serve themselves their own drinks? Oh, they’ll have to know something’s up. If they don’t faint from the shock first.

* “Even if he could not be with her, his world had a distant sun,” I feel like the vampires would use another metaphor? Even a distant sun is deadly to them?

* Omg. They didn’t know about the torture? They all decided he just went feral one day and that was it? It’s been a minute, but let’s review the key moral of this series: don’t tell lies!

* Hi, Payne! Don’t worry, you aren’t even in this scene so you don’t have to come up with any lines to explain for why you’re cool with nothing but babysitting gigs.

* “I’d rather binge-watch Bubble Guppies than be at a party like this.” I can think of no circumstances, outside of perhaps literal torture, where I would voluntarily choose to watch Bubble Guppies instead.

* I played Myst as a child and I’m guessing JR Ward did too. It involved zero nakedness, of course, but was otherwise pretty much just as horrifying if you picked the wrong ending.

* Oh good, time for one of those unnecessarily painful rituals that also requires the guy to be naked. I’m not reading this. Had enough with Qhuinn. But yay, John’s a Brother! And Xhex is next? Please tell me Payne gets inducted…

* I love a sexy, romantic couple as much as the next person. But these two have literally known each other for like, 2, 3 days? Most of their alone time has been soent having sex on anything that isn’t a bed. Good stuff! But if you’re going to move heaven and earth to be together and commit this way, maybe spend just a little more time talking and getting to know each other? I know, heresy. But still!

* And Lassiter’s handing out miracles now? Cause there’s nothing beautiful about a love growing old? Everyone’s got to stay young and hot forever?

Bottom line: the guy named Murhder turns out to be a fluffy teddy-bear who was probably never actually crazy, and falls for a sexy scientist who makes him reexperience vampire puberty for science!

Rating: two out of five unnecessarily painful rituals

[walli3darl1ng]

I’m currently obsessed and thought of this :3 enjoy! Should I make a part 2?

You are a well-known, local doll maker and oftentimes you get calls from toy companies to make prototypes of the most popular character kids were obsessed about. That’s just how unique and comforting your talent is. You also get calls from previous clients for repairs on your dolls.

So it wasn’t a surprise that you got a call for a repair. What was surprising is getting a call from a kid’s show director asking you to come fix one of the puppets they have.

You never worked on puppets, but it’s an opportunity to get out of your artistic comfort zone so why not?

The building was intimidating. How many floors do you need to film a kid’s show? But then again, you’re not really sure how much effort it takes.

Inside is just as cruel. So many hallways and doors! But after admitting to a passing worker, who saw you wandering around frantically that you were indeed lost, they were happy to show you to the main studio set for Welcome Home.

it’s an amazing set! Everything that looks big is small. Grass so green it looks fake—cause it is. Colors of any bright hue were present and shine almost dangerously bright for any human capacity.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for the director?” You ask softly, afraid to interrupt whatever they were doing. It did seem like they were in the middle of something, they had other puppets with them.

After meeting the director, who knew really well of your work. You don’t let the fact that a multi-billion dollar company has requested your assistance. You do this for the kids not for fame or money, but let’s be realistic, you need money to start any business, big or small.

Now in a meeting room—more like a regular storage room. The director was informing you of the show as well as the puppets they used to make it.

“The main one is what we want you to fix, just clean it up and make it look presentable again.” The director orders without looking at you then leaves. How rude.

‘It’. You know objects can’t feel but this is a puppet that kids believe they have. So why not just address them as living? They are created with a name, personality, likes, dislikes. You can have debates over this for ages but it’ll never go anywhere.

Are you supposed to just sit here? It felt like forever when the director walked back in with someone else carrying a wooden box. The box is old, small and looks like it could fall apart.

“Sorry, I had to get it packed and ready.” Again with the ‘it’. How hard is it to call them by their name?

You look at the box suspiciously then raise an eyebrow. “They’re in the box?”

The director miserly shrugs and takes the box from the other worker before sliding it over to you, dismissing the worker. “The only box we could find to fit it.”

You hum with curiosity, thinking it was a small puppet you had high hopes this repair would be simple and easy. How wrong you were.

Upon opening the box, keeping clear of the splitters and chipping wood you gasp softly under your breath at the sight.

There was the puppet, dark yellow and blue, crammed into the box, tangled in string? You carefully jammed them out and looked in horror at their condition. Their clothes unravel and tear, shoes more worn down than an energetic toddler and the string is from their dirty cardigan basically coming apart. It saddens you to the core. How can people be so neglectful?

“We have a special next week so you have until then to fix this. Good luck!”

“Wait, hold on—and he left. Unbelievable.” You scoff. Turning back to the poor puppet you look inside the wooden box to see a name faintly on the top. “Wally?”

You gently sit Wally up and hold his felt hand in yours. “Well, nice to meet you, Wally. I hope we can be friends in this journey of making you look like how you deserve.”

You get no response back but you didn’t expect one. Giving Wally a smile you take his arms and wrap them around your neck as you pull him closer to you body and hold him up. You take the wooden box and throw it in the trash. You’ll make a new one.

You felt the loose grip of Wally’s arms tighten.

But that could be your imagination,

Right?

[fatuifucker]

make a wish

soft dom scaramouche x sub kitsune familiar! fem-bodied reader (they/them pronouns used but gendered-terms such as "vixen", "cumslut" are also used + mention of breasts)

SUMMARY = "then for my birthday wish, can we have sex over and over again until we tire out?”

WARNINGS = smut, penetration (reader receiving), use of the word “cunt”, spitting, collar, belly bulge, breeding (with no threat of pregnancy because mans a puppet), mating press, dacryphilia, sharing a strawberry through a kiss, rough scara who spoils you with praise so you can make happy fox noises, slight degradation (cumsleeve, cumslut, etc), spoilers for inazuma archon quest, scara calls reader "vixen" and other fox-related terms, reader calls scara "master"

W/C = 1.5K

A/N = aaah honestly, i’m not the most satisfied with this but i was on a time crunch and i struggled with getting the perfect idea

tags = @zen-daydreams, @edenialucas, @urcatbf, @nejibot, @midnxght-sweet-time, @honeyjetcoaster, @ventriloquistz

Moonlight seeps through the curtains, casting a brilliant light onto the pair. Inseparable, they've always been. Lips connected, sucking on a little red fruit as teeth bite into its flesh, spurting out its sour-sweet nectar into your mouths.

Wet. Passionate. Divine.

Words that all describe the sensations and emotions that surge through your blood. It’s lewd. Terribly so. And it feels right. Scaramouche's hand cusps your breast, feeling your racing pulse as he kneads the mound, while his other hand toys with your pussy. He parts from you to allow you to breathe — catching the sight of your adorable expression with those half-lidded eyes and stuck out tongue dyed with red — before clashing his lips with your once again.

With the strawberry long gone — dissipated into shreds that were swallowed through the tussle, he sucks on your tongue instead, smiling into the kiss as you keen your hips against his fingers. It feels right for your tongues to be intertwined like this, to be able to feel this shared passion and bliss. It makes him wonder if the two of you have been joined by the red string of fate that binds soulmates as one in those Liyuen novels you describe (such a boring pastime, he thinks, but your love for mundane, human things despite being an immortal yourself is another thing he finds adorable about you).

He swallows the noise you make, parting away when he feels fluid wetting his whole hand. His hand grabs your jaw, squeezing it just slightly to tell you to keep your mouth open, before he gathers his saliva in his mouth and spits on your tongue, making your pussy throb. Scaramouche watches your throat bob as you swallow before his electrifying eyes returns to your solicitous, half-lidded gaze.

"That was the most delicious strawberry I have ever tasted."

"Only the freshest. Specially imported from Fontaine, just for the occasion," he says with a boastful tone. "You should be grateful."

You giggle, the sound a euphonious melody he could never tire of hearing. "My beloved Master spends hours tirelessly learning how to bake my favourite strawberry shortcake for my birthday, hosts a banquet with all my favourite foods and is spoiling me in bed. How could I not be grateful?" You trail your hand up to the collar around your neck, tapping on the bell attached to it. "And this. This collar makes me feel like I'm yours."

"You have always been mine, my little fox." Scaramouche flutters his eyelashes against your cheek, looking at you with fondness that is uncharacteristic of the 6th Fatui Harbinger. "I'll give you everything and more. Surely, you have a wish you want me to grant on your birthday, don't you?"

A wish?

You think for a moment before answering with the first thing that came to mind, “Then for my birthday wish, can we have sex over and over again until we tire out?"

Scaramouche blinks before erupting into a cackle. “Fucking seriously? Ha, should have expected it from a vixen like you." He grasps onto his shorts, pulling them down low enough to take out his hardened cock. "I'll do it how you like it. I'll be gentle with you…verbally. But I'm going to fuck this pretty pussy up. I'm going to screw you like you're my obedient cumslut whose only purpose is to be their harbinger's useless cocksleeve. But I'll tell you how much I love you, how perfect you are and how I adore everything about you like you're my spouse. I'll whisper sweet nothings and praises into your ear all while I fuck up this little hole. Because that's how you like it, right?"

Scaramouche rubs his tip against your entrance, not pushing it any more than that. He smiles at you — a deceptive, saccharine smile — as he awaits your response.

You swallow as you shift your gaze away from him. "Yes. I want it like that, Master."

"Good fox," the Balladeer purrs, shoving his entire cock inside you with one thrust.

You squeak as he starts pounding into you, not giving you time to adjust to his inhuman length. Then again, your cunt is so wet and sloppy that it doesn't matter. Not to mention you've done this for hundreds of times that you've gotten used to it. Still, you can't help but stare as Scaramouche moves inside you, an imprint of his cock forming on your belly every time he does so. He presses against that spot as he whispers into your ear. “Needy pathetic little slut. Are you so addicted to me that everyday, you can’t stop thinking about my cock even when you’re supposed to be working? Everyday asking me to have sex with you, even during my harbinger meetings. Have you no shame, little vixen?”

Then again, he isn’t any different. In the walls of your shared bedroom, he isn’t Scaramouche, the Balladeer, the 6th Fatui Harbinger who brings terror and fright to anyone, whether they are his enemies or his very own subodinates. When he’s alone with you, he’s just Kunikuzushi. The discarded doll who you swore your life, sword and soul to aeons ago— no, he’s more than that.

He’s Kunikuzushi, the dysfunctional puppet who was the only being to ever risk his life to save you when others watched you rot in that barren, empty dump for decades. He is the man who would bring calamity to Celestia if they ever dare to lay a hand on you. He is the man who orders you to bow before him on his throne, just so that he can run his fingers through your hair with the gentleness of a feather and whisper those three words that make you think ‘I don’t regret following you to the ends of Teyvat.’

“P-pet me, please…” you moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. “I want to be held."

"Mmm so honest," Scaramouche chuckles, pulling up your top and bra to spit in between the valley of your breasts. "You're so devoted to me that it's adorable. It's endearing, really. The way you're so stern and domineering in front of the other harbingers and everyone else. Yet, you allow yourself to melt in my arms and give in to depravity. It makes me want to spoil you more."

You feel Scaramouche caressing your cheek, his succulent lips nipping at your ears. You couldn't help but slip out a few mewls and pleased fox-like sounds as he continues his ministrations, all while he screws up your soaked cunt. He feels it tighten around him everytime he moves, enveloping with that heat that makes him feel delirious. He is addicted to you as much as you are addicted to him.

Every sound you make — whether it be your innocent laughter, your piercing cold demands directed at the recruits, every moan of his name, every smile, everything, just everything.

He takes pride in the way you scream whenever he enters you. He wants to stretch you to your limit whenever you mutter that he's too big. He wants to break you, only because you love it, and he would do anything you ask.

"Fuck, you…gh–" he pants, speeding up his thrusts. "You always feel so tight around me. So fucking wet and hot. Fuck, I…" I don't deserve you. "I'll give everything to you. I'll fill you up with my seed. You fucking want that, right?"

"Yes! Please, please, please—!"

You're sobbing as he grabs onto your plush thighs, pressing them to your chest. He feels you so intimately just as you feel him. He feels himself getting drunk at the sensation of your pussy swallowing his cock, and he knows by that smitten look in your eyes that you feel the same. Neither of you had any experience in carnal matters other than with each other. But he knows that nobody would be able to make him feel as good as you. Nobody would make him feel like he is anything but a discarded puppet. Nobody…

"Kuni! Kuni, I love you!"

would make him more loved than you.

"...I love you too." Scaramouche collides his lips with yours, taking advantage of your opened mouth to slip his tongue in. "Mm…love you so…fucking much."

He spills his warm seed inside, painting your insides white. Pleased, you mewl into his mouth before creaming all over his cock, squeezing his throbbing shaft and milking it for all it's worth. Scaramouche pulls out of you, letting you recover for a few seconds as he watches his cum drip out of your pussy. He gathers some of it and smears it all over your labia, marvelling at the obscene sight as you squirm.

"What? Don't tell me you're tired already." Scaramouche scoffs.

"No," you mumble, puffing out your cheeks. "That's insulting to a kitsune. You know we're creatures of charm and intellect. I have more than enough stamina to top you."

Scaramouche raises an eyebrow, a smirk on his face. "You think you can do it?"

"I'll ride you until you see stars, pretty boy," you giggle.

"Fine, get on top then."

Eagerly, you push Scaramouche to the bed, already stroking his cock as you leave marks all over his body.

"(Name)."

"Hm?" You look up at the doll, pausing your motions momentarily.

"...Nothing just," He brings your chin up to his face, planting a soft kiss on your lips. "happy birthday."

[huecycles]

Secret Bosses and Human Souls

a lot of folks were surprised by the sudden appearance of the yellow soul in Spamton Neo's fight. it did seem very random at the time, but now i think this is done to solidify Spamton's story arc, like the final nail in the coffin.

the yellow soul's trait in Undertale, as we see in the ball game, is Justice. if we get the yellow flag, we're greeted with a description of how the soul acts in battle, and its characteristics. this is done for every soul.

"sure-fire accuracy" fits the souls theme of shooting at a target, which is tied to the yellow soul's weapon, an empty gun. the description is reminscent of a western movie where the heroes and bad guys fight, if we consider the armor which is the cowboy hat.

how does this relate to Spamton?

aside from the obvious "KRIS! WAS THAT A [[Big Shot]] JUST NOW??" comment he makes when using the special ability which i call a "booster", i wanna show you this dialogue at his shop:

"heaven-piercing" "shoot for the sky" ...alright

Spamton's whole quest about becoming a big shot also reminds me of old western movies in a way. "get on the path to the big one" sounds very much like a character from this setting shooting up other "big shots" to take their place, kind of like a list you cross names out.

Spamton using the big ass firing weapon that came with the neo body is also very telling in my opinion. lol

but what's even more interesting is how the Justice theme applies to Spamton. we don't see much of this in the pacifist/neutral route but in genocide? Spamton goes absolutely power mad, even going as far as to aid two teenagers forced into mass murder just to sneak into the palace in a very villainesque way. Spamton feeling like he has been betrayed is nothing new. we get this vibe in pacifist from the way he talks about his former friends and Mike, and we see how hypocritical he is because once he got his hands on the neo body, he outright betrayed the one who helped him get there in the first place.

it's clear that he craves justice for everything that happened to him. and even more fitting is how he acts when taking over the mansion like a megalomaniac, he twists and warps the concept of justice into revenge. there's an additional layer of betrayal when Kris goes to seal the fountain, as he gets furious with you and likens this situation to whatever happened between him and Mike/the tv character.

it's only fitting that Spamton Neo evokes the yellow soul, the very symbol of justice in his fight. it's what he didn't get.

Jevil is the same way. one could argue that Jevil has no soul mode, and yes, his fight defaults to the red soul.

as we know, the red soul is kind of an anomaly in Deltarune (and maybe in Undertale too). in Asgore's flower shop, we have a golden flower in the center right next to a yellow flower while the other ones have the same colors as the rest of the human souls. there's no red flower. Kris treats the soul as some kind of anomaly in their body, too, snatching it out of their chest and violently throwing it somewhere to keep it in place. i have a few theories regarding the red soul and the player, though that's not what i want to discuss here.

do you ever notice how the red soul's theme or "trait" seems to be freedom? which is painfully ironic given Kris's puppeteering, and how it affects their life. Spamton wants the soul for himself, thinking it would set him free and let him see past the dark, and even if he did get it, it wouldn't help him at all. the soul's theme being freedom (and control) ties into how it has free movement in the arena. it was made specifically to dodge bullets, that's its main characteristic. see the description of what the red represents in the ball game:

considering the fact the green soul's movement is focused on the shield mechanic, the blue soul is bound by gravity and the purple soul moves in horizontal lines (restricted movement) makes me think the red soul is special.

how does this relate to Jevil? well, for one, Jevil constantly goes on about how he's the only free one due to his self awareness and how he's locked away from the narrative in a way. you only find Jevil if you go to him, the fact his cell is located in a floor named "??????" feels like some type of bait for the player's curiosity. isn't it interesting how Jevil's freedom speech falls flat due to the very knowledge he has? even if he finds a loop hole ("if nothing matters, then than means i can do anything") it doesn't take him too far. he got rightfully imprisoned for attacking people in the kingdom, or as he says, playing games with them. he failed just like Spamton did, though his case is a bit different.

he fights the red soul, the symbol of freedom and control.

the secret bosses' soul modes are a clear reflection of what they desperately want and fail to achieve.