#sorry for all the edits i keep remembering ships

[solstic13]

do you have any favorite pairings or characters in the parappa franchise?

I do actually!

Parappa/Pj

Papa Parappa/General Potter

Sweety Bancha/Sunny Funny

and Katy/Lammy

I dont have that many because i haven't thought much about it but papa and potter were the first two i shipped!

oh also do we know colonel noodle's age range? id like to know before i ship him with anyone :]

[generalsmemories]

Homecoming

✧ jing yuan x gn!reader

✧ synopsis: the general of luofu awaits your return home into his arms

✧ contents: established relationship, fluff, jing yuan's inner monologue about his dear lover

✧ a/n: kicks down door, GUESS WHOSE BACK! I HOPE. this was word vomit so if there's anything wrong or amiss, no there isn't. I wanted to write a lil fluff before going back to my self indulgent fic (and writing for phainon too) im sorry wife i left you alone for MONTHS!! anyway i hope you all just like this fluffy piece where an overthinking jing yuan eagerly awaits your return home <3 this is just mostly jing yuan monologue cause the reader doesn't appear before the end but <3 i hope you enjoy it nonetheless! thank you all for your patience !! hopefully i'll update a bit more from now!

If you were to tap a Xianzhou citizen on the shoulder and ask for their opinion on the dozing general of the Luofu, they would describe him as a wise and benevolent general, a bit too easy-going for his position, a cat lover and an advocate that everyone should have 3 hot meals each day.

They would never describe the general of the Luofu as someone who would openly show his emotions.

And yet, on a seemingly normal sunny afternoon on the Luofu, tucked into a corner of Cloudford in what should be a normal port for any ship carrying cargo from other worlds to dock for the day - stands the general of the Xianzhou Luofu, alone.

It’s a weird sight, the general has nothing to do with cargo transportation - let alone overseeing any new ships coming to dock upon the Luofu for the day unless it was a fellow general or the marshal themselves.

Yet here he was, often times leaning a bit too close to the edge of the dock to scavenge any new ships coming to land in this specific area that’s unoccupied, his free hand that’s not propping his whole body on the railing is busy fiddling around with his phone - he occasionally unlocks it to re-read the message that’s been left open ever since this morning, scrounging for anything new - to see if you’ve edited the message to another location.

But it’s still the same, even after the 7th time he’s read the message.

“There’s a bit more cargo than we expected from the marshal, so instead of landing at the usual dock at Starskiff Haven, we’re going to dock at the northernmost dock in Cloudford. We should arrive before the delegations from Zhuming and Yaoqing, but remember to greet them if they come here before me!”

Jing Yuan let out a long sigh, stuffing his phone back into his pocket before looking around the dock. It’s hardly an appropiate place to greet you back, surrounded by boxes upon boxes of either different furniture or weapons for the Cloud Knights - maybe even some souvenirs from the various traders that have settled in Luofu.

You should be greeted by the vast open sky that you’ve loved to see in Luofu each morning when you wake up by his side, watch the various starskiffs soar in the sky while the wind graces you with the various leaves adorned throughout the Luofu - all while glancing back at him with the same gentle smile you’ve greeted him for the past hundred years.

The ever so aloof general lets out a sigh, bringing a hand up to run through his more than usual messy bangs to keep his mind away from the thoughts of you, “You would’ve nagged me for letting my hair become even more unruly if you saw me now…”

It did not work at all.

Maybe he can convince Qingzu to arrange a specific port in Cloudford just for you, but that would only make both you and her regard him with disappointment at where he puts the resources of Luofu at - although he can see the glint of affection that crosses your eyes whenever he jokingly suggests building your entire private port so that you’re not mobbed by the citizens each time you come back from your own delegations.

Jing Yuan takes one more glance towards the phone he had just pocketed, how can that it’s only been 2 mere minutes after he last checked? He swears it must’ve been a system hour at least since he’s arrived at the dock.

Maybe something had happened, you’re usually on time after all. Is the traffic to enter Luofu bigger than the usual? Granted the Wardance was just announced and a lot of people from all over have come to finally step foot into Luofu again after the stellaron incident. But you usually predicted this and would arrive even earlier to be on time. Maybe he should contact Yukong and see if there’s any-

His racing mind comes to a screeching halt when he hears the familiar roar of the starskiff engine turn to a mere hum near him - the sound much closer than the starskiffs flying above him.

For some reason, he did not dare look up - Of course the northernmost dock wasn’t just meant for your ship to land, numerous others had already landed here before. Aeons above, he had greeted another cargo ship who were pleasantly surprised to see his appearance when he had first entered the area after all.

Jing Yuan could feel his palms sweat the tiniest bit, and suddenly he was actuely aware that he kept bouncing back and forth on his heels - something he even thought to himself was unknown behaviour from him. He had after all, never been this giddy or nervous to meet someone at all.

But then again, ever since you’ve arrived in his life - he’s shown sides of himself he didn’t know was there at all.

Oh dear, I’ve sure been spoiled by them.

Before he can derail even more into his thoughts, his downcast gaze is suddenly locked with your own curious ones, a raised eyebrow and lips jutting out a tiny bit in concern.

And suddenly, Jing Yuan feels his entire body relax, his tense shoulders finally slack and he exals deeply - which in turn makes you even more confused. “Jing Yuan? What are you even doing out- woah!”

You’re not able to even finish your question before your lover lifts you up with seemingly no effort, a gleeful smile paints his lips and his eyes crinkle the tiniest bit at the corners. The sudden upwards movement makes you yelp a tiny bit, immediately putting your hands on his shoulders in reflex while a light dust of red covers your cheek at the display of affection, “Jing-!”

But you can already tell he’s not listening to you at all, gently setting you down on the ground again before his arms wrap around your lower waist, fingers pressing against your lower back to press your body further into his own - completey ignoring the snickering Cloud Knights behind the two of you who have become used to the general display of affection towards you.

“… How was your trip, dear?” he finally asks, resting his forehead against yours for a brief second to let you breathe. You let out a sigh in return, raising your arm to place a hand on his cheek - Jing Yuan immediately leaning against it before turning his head to peck your palm, “You already know how it’s been, no? I’ve sent you updates each morning and night after all.”

Jing Yuan merely hums, gliding his lips down towards your wrists before he leans his body closer to your own to nuzzle his face into your neck, inhaling softly, “Dear, you know I appreciate hearing about your day rather than reading a bunch of text.”

The little laugh you let out makes Jing Yuan let out a little giggle himself, but you feel his hold tighten around you when you try to squirm away from him, “Now, now - I haven’t seen you for months now, beloved. Don’t try to run away now.”

“Jing Yuan if you haven’t noticed we are still in public-” you try to reason, but your lover doesn’t listen, reduced to a mere overgrown cat in your presence as he tries to get even closer to your own body - there’s barely any room between your for air to even pass between the two of you.

You raise an eyebrow in confusion, gripping the arms around your waist to at least make him lessen the grip he has on you, "Jing Yuan, at least let me-"

“I missed you,” he finally whispers silently, and all your previous squirming comes to a halt when you feel the slight tremble in his voice. And it’s only when you register that tremble do you realize that his hands that are splayed by your neck to keep you in place are shaking ever so slightly, “… More than I thought I would.” he confesses, to your ears only.

You let out a light huff, finally wrapping your arms around his shoulders and threading your hand into his hair so you can tuck his face further into your neck, leaning your cheek against his hair, “I’m home, Jing Yuan.” you confirm, turning your head to peck the top of his head once.

Like he understood your request immediately, Jing Yuan leans back to face you once again, a slight guilty look on his features for subjecting you to a situation he knows you deem a bit uncomfortable. But the smile you give him relieves him of his troubling thoughts. You shake your head silently, a quiet answer to his equally silent apology before you cradle both his cheeks in your hands to keep him in place before slotting your lips over his own. He lets out a small sigh into your mouth, pressing his lips firmly against your own before parting slightly, the gentle, easy-going smile you're used to seeing back on his lips. “Welcome home, my dear.”

[spread-the-influence]

OH COOL ! A MASTERPOST !

a horror-comedy fan comic based on The Amazing Digital Circus where ragatha's the host of a parasitical virus and it becomes everyone's problem ! neat-o beans !

* this is also a VERY buttonblossom / pomni x ragatha-centric AU so if you don't enjoy that ship i don't recommend engaging with this sorry

[DISCLAIMER!] while this comic is mostly lighthearted in tone , this comic and au will contain topics that could disturb sensitive readers ! this includes ; graphic violence , depictions and discussions of emotional abuse , depictions of mental health issues , self-harm imagery , obsession , and discussions of suicide . any more specifics will be tagged in the pages , but these are the ones that encompass the Entire comic basically !

( also i hope it's a given that i'm not romanticizing the toxic yuri in this au , )

if any of these topics make you uncomfortable , it's alright to click away or block the #tadc influence au tag .

!! if you want to support this comic , try sharing and talking about it in other platforms OR throw some money at my ko-fi page ! it'll be radical either way !!

LINKS

>> READ THE BEGINNING !

or , if you prefer ...

* TABLE OF CONTENTS ( returning reader or just someone who's not up for scrolling through the tags ? here's the table of contents ! contains links to the comic pages all in one place , any extras , and possible relevant posts in the >>info; tag ! )

* FREQUENTLY ASKED QUESTIONS ! ( questions that i have constantly been asked ! )

* AU POST ! ( for those who have read the comic and are curious about the au — and people that want to spoil the first half of the comic for themselves . i don't judge ! )

** OFFICE LORE POST ( not a necessary read , but would be cool to read if you're interested in the backstory for ... some reason ! )

* INFO CARDS ! ( info cards for the characters , just for funsies ! will contain blank templates for any ocs (: )

TAGS

[ highlighted are those of relevance + may be interesting ! ]

>>COMIC; - the comic ( be warned things will be out of order )

>>INFO; - specific asks about the au answered !

>>ASK; - old roleplay posts if you want to see em

>>MISC; - answered asks / non-comic stuff

WARNING: ESSAY - mod rambles

>>DOODLES; - doodles from yours truly

>>PRE-FLUENCE; - stuff before the horrors

>>POST-FLUENCE; - stuff after the horrors

>>ANIMATIONS; - ... animations

>>OFFICE LORE; - pre-circus

>>REBLOGS; - ... reblogs !

>>EXTRAS; - some extras or ' ambiguously canon ' comics !

GUIDELINES & BOUNDARIES

READ THE FAQ , PLEASE ! there are some questions that are , well , frequently asked ! so please read the faq and only send an ask if the question's not there

this is NOT an ask blog ! i will sometimes play along with ask blog-esque asks , but that's only just once in a while — so just please only ask me , the mod , for anything about the au !

you can call me mod bee . i go by she/her in this account

keep it impersonal please ! i would prefer if the asks are related to the au , my art , or tadc . i'm fine with being asked about my interests or what i think of something but otherwise , i appreciate if you do not ask about my life or what timezone i'm in .

my art is free to use ! feel free to use it as an icon , in an edit — anything really as long as you don't sell it or it's not used to spread hateful messages ! my only condition really is to credit me

reposts are fine ! just please make it clear that you did NOT create the art and LINK the account . i gave the free rein to repost the art , all i'm asking is to please respect these conditions !

please do not dm me . i do not like dms . any form of communication is only through the ask box .

i am uncomfortable with nsfw asks so please don't send them . i am fine with suggestive humor , though

remember to spread the influence.

[mihii-i]

Pookie come here I have the greatest oneshot request idea known to women kind

Y’a know those edits where it’s a wlw Genshin ship with their Honkai look-alikes but in one of the games they’re tragic and in the other they’re happy? Imagine that but with Arlecchino and her Harbinger reader 🤭

Like imagine Pierro asks Arlecchino for help with some weird mission or smth that involves looking into other universes and then boom she sees the most heartbreaking angsty yuri plot but it’s literally just herself and the woman she’d die for

Even better if they kill each other or smth silly like that

Comfort ending tho pretty please 🙏🏻 (not for the other Arle and reader tho PFFT- so like bittersweet I think? Idk up to you pookie)

your wish is yours to keep.

CW: sfw, female reader, heavy angst, blood, war, violence, mostly from arlecchino’s pov, wlw, harbinger reader, mentions of death, yes reader fucking dies again, tragedy, I’m very evil kitty writing this, wife for both arle and reader, arlecchino actually crying omg, arle’s real name used yk the drill, fluffy at the end, guys I love writing sfw more than nsfw is that obvious, I am not feeling freaky deaky my apologies for the nsfw likers that didn’t get much detail on my recent nsfw fics, yum yum angst, my fave thing to write is angst, not proofread.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

A/N: it’s been a WHILE since I’ve written for arlecchino and honestly I miss herrrr so I’d also like to apologize for the requests that marinated in my ask box for too long because IM SO SORRY I HAVE LIKE 40 but nevertheless I hope those who were older followers and miss my arle content get fed <3 🕯️

Peculiar.

Peculiar was the only word to describe the circumstances in which Arlecchino found herself at the foot of an unending hall, the bellowing noise of her heels hitting the polished marble lingering like a frozen demand that thumped in rhythm with her heart upon each step forward toward Pierro. Everything in the hall remained frozen over in heavy blankets of snow, clouding the area in a heaping white embrace to accompany the stings of frigid air assaulting her.

The gentle scrape of another figure’s feet descending onto the marble followed Arlecchino’s painstakingly slow pace, your own rustling coat, which matched that of the fourth harbinger’s, draped over you in a thick fluff of black fur outlining the back of your neck. Alongside the white silk falling over the rest of your body, center held together at your torso as the metal of the signature Fatui crest peeking from behind the grayish lapels of your coat.

You couldn’t exactly pinpoint when or why you had taken the position as the sixth harbinger, every time you attempted to recall any coronation of sorts, you could only piece together a blur of jumbled words. As if your memory had been twisted. From what you could at the very least remember, the position of the sixth harbinger had been an empty slot, waiting for a worthy member to slip into the voided imbalance of power within the Fatui.

Arlecchino’s coat shifted uncomfortably as she masked her arms adjusting into a firm front before Pierro, the gleaming crosses on her eyes fixed on the Jester in a deathly silence. Pierro’s singular visible eye bore into the harbinger with what seemed to be a weight of intense scrutiny, icy tones of blue beholding a negative energy you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Worry? Hate? Judgement?

“Ah. The Knave and her wife.” Pierro finally shattered the silence with his flattened tone, taking in a breath to ease himself as he reclined his back to the tall chair towering behind him. Resting his chin on his knuckles as blond streaks of his goatee leaned along the dark glove, he attempted to strike out his usual firm and authoritative tone, all the while maintaining some sort of professionalism in his criticism.

“Arlecchino, I thought we agreed that this task would involve you alone. Not the sixth harbinger as company.”

She furrowed her brows, biting her tongue through her closed blood red lips.

“I didn’t see why I couldn’t. She’s not too far off in the ranks. The circumstances should be suitable for her to come along with me.”

“They’re not. I can assure you that much, Knave.”

His hand that presided beneath his chin slid forward along the circular table, expression staring daggers into his two subordinates stood in a disgustingly close space. Pierro’s coat sleeve brushed along the pearly white of the stone table, biting back the exasperated sigh he so desperately wanted to heave out at the sheer foolishness of what Arlecchino thought she could get away with. She couldn’t be attached to you. Not for this.

“Listen. This mission isn’t meant for two people. Nor does it mean that you can handle it through your physical strength alone.

The Jester’s gaze snapped over to you, even through his eyepiece, that intimadation digging in to seal your airways, freeze every drop of blood coursing through your veins with his commands was nothing short of the Fatui director’s abilities. Shrinking back in compliance, you headed back into the shadowy fogs of the corridor’s entrance, tense with each step back as you could practically feel his eyes on you with every waking moment, scanning every little step you took until the gates parted into the deep cold.

Parting her lips to breathe out a sigh, Arlecchino slumped down into the cushions of the fashionably crafted seats below her, elbows resting along the rugged stone as her nails drew out a few high pitched clinks with each tap like porcelain. Her seat was directly across from Pierro’s on opposing sides, as if the gravity of the situation she remained shrouded in the dark about kept itself as a wavering reminder of fear in the depths of the unknown.

“Are you prepared, Knave?”

Despite the openly austere front he had walled up to drive you out of the hall, his words tinged with a speck of concern in regards to Arlecchino, attempting to solidify his decision in what she would see for the sake of such a simple, yet difficult mission to dive through. In fact, it was clear that although what she was tasked with was no harder than asking a toddler to go count flower petals.

Yet the seemingly effortless and straightforward task of peeping into different universes to gather a solid probability of the Fatui gaining all seven gnoses came with a mind breaking cost. One of which would freeze the stone cold Knave herself in the sights of a full new level of hell she would have to trudge through.

Pierro- no, everyone at this point was well aware of the inseparable nature of yours and Arlecchino’s relationship. Her unyielding nature barring a sturdy wall of protection that surrounded you under any condition that called for it, a rather oddly new trait that was invoked by your presence from the otherwise ‘heartless’ harbinger.

It was fairly surprising whenever Arlecchino was cooped up beside you within the comforting confines of your shared home, snuggled up with you on her chest as one or the other scanned their eyes across the thick sheets of a book, while a steaming cup of tea sat on the glass table sat in front of the sofa. Any other member would assume she had business to take care of that involved some sort of violent slash, when it reality, it was nothing but cuddling up to her wife on the couch.

No matter what, the surging depth of Arlecchino’s bond could stun even the highest of the harbingers. As such a pure, profound budding flower of love that arose from the stems of your chests was utterly impossible in the ugly nature of this mortal realm. Yet it was quite beautiful to witness, much less ponder upon, how two people’s souls were so deeply entangled within one another to where they remained true to themselves, yet attached to the other in a way to which they became complete.

Neither you, nor Arlecchino would doubt that the two of you would remain together across every universe in the endless stream of possibilities, to which a physical manifestation of your love could swim around in rather than drown in the never ending sea.

“Arlecchino. I must warn you to just..mentally prepare yourself for what you’re about to see. All I can say is..it’s not pleasant.”

“I can handle it.”

“I’m not sure that would be true.”

She scoffed at his words, lowering her eyes as a frown crossed her features.

“Do you believe I’m weak, Jester? I’ve handled worse before.”

“It’s not that. This isn’t a matter of whether your body is strong or durable enough. In fact, it’s if your mind can handle seeing your worst fear over and over.”

He paused, resuming his words to provide information regarding her multiversal travel.

“You can’t interact with anything you see. Nor can they see you. You are merely a spectator…a ghost of sorts.”

“Hm. Does the method of transportation have something to do with Irminsul?”

“Not exactly. Although there may be a different version of Irminsul than the one you know in our Teyvat.” Pierro inhaled, pondering the most ideal way to phrase the complex plethora of information. “You’ll be sent to different universes, different..versions of Teyvat I’d say. Each one, you make a mental note of how many times we are able to successfully achieve all of the gnoses.”

She nodded firmly, her voice unwavering in low, resolute response as Pierro’s solemn look seemed to be disregarded by the absolute tone of voice she had asserted, believing herself to be fully capable of the horrors of her task. After all, she has seen many she’s cared about slip away at her fingertips on many occasions. What could possibly be worse?

You.

You could be worse.

Arlecchino didn’t want to lose you. Not for a second.

—

The world above blurred together into an unintelligible gradient of colorful patterns blended like a work of art, the beauty which Arlecchino took wonder again suddenly broken by a sharp ache spreading across every inch of her body. Shooting her eyes open, her pulse vibrated against her neck in protruding shoves against her skin, lashes fogging her vision as floods of pale sunlight sunk into her bright pupils.

Hands planted into the earth, she weakly hoisted herself up in the familiar drag of Teyvat’s soul along her palm, strands of white hair unkempt and falling over her face as she swerved her head around with caution. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Could it be possible that Pierro didn’t succeed in catching a glimpse of any other universe? However he managed to do that anyway…

Blinking her eyes open, Arlecchino finally caught a clear view of the world around her. Tranquil, basking in the serenity of a soul not in sight within the planes of nature as gentle hums of the breeze cradled the surrounding landscape. If this was what she had to investigate, then Pierro’s warning must have just been false panic stirred up to simply drive her into setting her eyes on the task at hand.

A speck of red suddenly bloomed along the once blue sky.

Then another.

What felt like mere moments plunged into the world she stood in being ripped apart in an instant, pulled forcefully open to engulf her in the now drowned out cries and screams of a war littered field, blood steeled along the blades of once swaying grass replacing the small drops of dew she had seen before. Arlecchino was no stranger to violent conflict, that was for sure. With ease, she carefully stepped through the worn down fields, scattered with the rusted steel of discarded weapons.

Her leg stretched past the limp bodies in a sickening array as to not kick the dead, mangled forms neatly laid out—as if war itself had created an artwork itself encompassing its fury. Quickly, Arlecchino had suppressed her internal disgust to keep her eyes ahead, navigating through the blinding flames swallowing Snezhnaya—likely Teyvat itself, whole.

The screams those impaled in spurts of blood trickling onto the metal to then clatter to the floor were nothing but white noise blocked out in Arlecchino’s head, no matter how gruesome the awful sight of their guts stomped on appeared to her. Pity welling up within her was nothing but weakness, a fate she could not save them from as it mattered naught to Arlecchino in the intense rampage. People die, sometimes you couldn’t save them. That was a lesson she had adhered to for years, holding back was simply the sneak of weakness that tried to leave one vulnerable, and a profession such as one in the Fatui required a ruthless front. One she couldn’t put down.

However, her fear couldn’t remain bottled up for long, as Pierro had warned her of succumbing to weakness. And as if luck had steered clear of her favor, sending a tower of bricks tumbling down onto her, she had been forced to stare helplessly at her own weakness.

“Arle..please..” you hoarsely sighed out, as dribbles of crimson spilled down your chin in a heavy downpour streaming from your chest, the sight of a gleaming scarlet scythe lodged into your body making Arlecchino freeze in horror. Her scythe.

Swallowing back the abrupt dread crawling up her spine upon spotting herself grasping the handle tightly, the black fades of her cursed hands now painted a vile red as she watched herself dig the scythe deeper. You still desperately clawed at Arlecchino’s shoulders like an anchor, fingers digging in to crease and fold the fabric of her blazer stuck to her shoulders in patches of sweat.

Arlecchino’s parallel self only gravitated closer to you in heavy breaths, taking your body in her arms as well as the scythe remained pierced across your other side, her nose digging into the warmth of your collarbone to savor your final moments in her arms.

“(Name)..? Dear? Is there one last wish you want from me?”

You nodded, hand weakly caressing the dusted lines of her cheek.

“Just..kiss me on the forehead and tell me we’ll be okay. Maybe in another universe?”

She sighed, choking back the small hiccup building in her throat as tears burned along the corners of her eyes. Her nails brushed along your nape in false contentment, as you smiled at her lips brushing along your forehead.

“Perhaps in another universe we’re fine. If circumstances were better we wouldn’t be here.”

Arlecchino’s whispers faded gradually, mixing into the howls of wind as yet another breeze that screeched in accordance with each stab of a spear through someone’s ribs. She could only kneel to the ground as she wordlessly grasped your lifeless body like a vice, breathing shaky and ragged with each moment of what she had to do replaying in her head over and over in the repeat of a broken record. It only served to rip out her heart piece by piece sadistically, the pain in your expression etched into her skull and ringing to torment her as the eternal crime of taking her own beloved’s life.

Even if she had to, she felt like shit.

Shallow breaths accompanied the subtle shivers that racked her body in rapid successions, Arlecchino’s eyes wide and hands trembling at the sight of herself hemming your lifeless body in her arms. Finally, she understood the horrors of what she had to trudge through for the sake of a simple task, the heat eating away at her sanity, drying through clothing to burn away at her skin like a manifestation of rage, sorrow, fear, everything that swirled together in her head upon seeing your corpse stained with blood.

Lightless eyes bore into her own as Arlecchino stared at the memory that would forever be seared into her like an accompanying curse, her eyes unable to look away at the way your body was laid besides a singular living lakelight lily on the field no matter how badly she wanted to. Thankfully, even as a small wash of relief for your very corpse’s peace in this god awful universe, she was grateful you were laid beside a singular living flower, away from all the fighting bellowing through the throes of battle off in the distance.

Watching as the other Arlecchino gently masked your eyelids shut, bidding you to rest as she stood up to dart back into the field, Arlecchino stepped forward to kneel beside you. Her translucent body simply ghosted through your splayed out arm, frustration boiling with her as she repeatedly attempted to hold you in her arms, before recalling Pierro’s statement that she couldn’t interact with the other universe, nor could they see her.

“What made you seek death like this my love..?”

She wept silently, that same unfeeling expression locked onto her face through the trickling salty tears staining her cheeks like that of an angel of grief. Unable to understand the motivation for you wanting her to kill uou was natural after all, the details of this universe’s memories and information was all altered in this universe’s Irminsul, yet she didn’t have the heart to check. Not after what she saw just now. She didn’t want to be plunged into an agony of truth just yet.

No matter what your reason could have been, Arlecchino would understand. It must have been painful for this other Arlecchino to come to terms with it, especially if it was in fact her with the same feelings and thoughts. Of course she had carried out every request and wish from you, so who would she be to deny this one? Especially for the greater good of your lives.

In every universe, your wish is yours to keep.

Her lingering kiss ghosted through your forehead only left an empty hole gaping in her chest through the sweltering flames she wasn’t supposed to feel, breaths shaky and jagged as she rose back to her feet to make her way through to any Fatui establishment left intact.

They failed here. The gnoses were not obtained.

—

“In 23 out of 47 universes, we succeed.”

“Understood. Meaning we have nothing short of a decent chance here. Thank you for your cooperation, Knave.”

She huffed out of acknowledgment, sweat pooling up along the corner of her head as she hid her shaky hands in her coat. Pierro, who had taken notice of this, didn’t make it a priority to pry further, pitying the woman who had underwent a flurry of emotions based on varying outcomes from various universes. He had decided to give her some space as he had warned her, dipping his head in acknowledgment of her success.

“You’re dismissed now.”

Arlecchino delivered a brisk nod, yet her swift energy in the nod remained contradictory to her being drained from the inside, everything she had seen of you two opening a pit of despair dropped at her stomach.

Her already soulless eyes beheld an overwhelming tempest of agony, the abrupt cold air batting along her cheek leaving her unfazed as she stared down at the thick snow bundled below her feet, imprints left with each hollow step she crunched into the white blanket over Snezhnaya. The cold’s sting was but a pinch now, passing the pain she had underwent in her own personal hell, no pain could compare to seeing the woman she loved, the woman she’d die for happy in one moment, and dead in the blink of an eye.

By the time she had reached the hotel room that was accommodated for both Arlecchino and you—courtesy of the Jester for your stay in Snezhnaya for the the mission, she only scanned along the patterns of the wooden door in search of something she wasn’t even sure of, blinking rapidly as her draining exhaustion crept up on her. You opened the door to greet your shell of a wife, staring aimlessly at the floor to your concern.

You couldn’t help but notice the dark circles lined beneath her eyes, complimenting her faded lipstick in small tones of pink to accompany the once deep red. Her hair was messed over from her usual well combed style as the thin ponytail behind her draped loose to the bottom, slightly exposing more stray strands peeking out from behind her neck.

“Uh- Arle are you-? Woah!”

Arlecchino’s uncharacteristic hug had thrown you off guard, eyes wide as the other harbinger’s arms pulled you to her in a tidal wave like embrace, nose digging into the crook of your neck.

“I missed you.”

“I- uh- missed you too! But what’s with the sudden hug, dear?”

“Nothing.”

It took quite a bit of strength to pry the stronger woman off of you, grasping her shoulders as you stared back at her signature deadpan expression, now fresh with tear cracks running down her cheeks.

“Wait, Arle..are you crying?”

“I am not.”

“I can literally see a few tears on that dead face of yours!”

“Allergies.”

“Peruere it’s fucking winter in Snezhnaya!”

You sighed, taking her hand as you shut the door behind you in a prolonged creaking noise as you beckoned her to sit on the couch beside you. Complying, the woman merely took her seat in silence, not so much as a hum elicited from her as the only audible noise in the deafening silence was the clock ticking, alongside her deep, drawn out breaths. Carefully, you pushed a small porcelain cup atop a gold rimmed plate on the table in her direction, the small squeak as the fine material scraped along the glass not being enough to cut through the silence.

“Er..I made you tea earlier for when you came back but it’s cold now..sorry.”

Arlecchino took the handle between her thumb and pointer finger, eyeing her reflection rippling in the clear, golden brown waves of the cool cup. She parted her lips in a quiet exhale, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth before sipping the cold tea.

“I love you, (Name). In every universe.”

Your gaze softened as you took the cup from her hands to replace with your own, touch feather light as your thumb circled the callouses of Arlecchino’s palm as they brushed along your own. The reminder of both of your professions as harbingers together.

“Arle..you don’t have to tell me what happened, but whatever did, I promise I’m not going anywhere. I love you forever and ever, okay?”

A wordless nod was all that was delivered from the white haired woman, the cross in her eyes blinding out of sight the further her eyelids dropped as she inclined to the tender embrace of her lover’s arms. Head dropping atop your chest, she pressed her cheek flush to the fabric of your clothing as close as possible, attempting to catch every little heartbeat and breath earned from the silence of her listening in.

She would protect you with all she had.

Anything to give this universe’s version of herself and the woman she adored a life of everything she could desire, one that spanned across every other multiverse that rooted and acknowledged the depth of your bond together.

A/N: OKAY OKAY first half was decent, middle was kinda trash but the third part of the fic ate so id like to say im seldom proud of this fic I’ve crafted anyway Arle fans eat well I missed feeding you guys and I haven’t written her in so long omg

Also uhhhh I kinda sorta haven’t played genshin in a really long time IM SORRY NATLAN WAS BOOTYCHEEKS I COULDNT BRINF MYSWLF TO PLAY IT HOLY SHIT I miss Fontaine but yeah this was fun to dooo <33

[rhiannonsknife]

Do you think Lottie's parents would let her poor best friend (cough cough, her girlfriend) visit her in Switzerland?

Like imagine it, we're together before the crash, she disappears and we lose her, she comes back and she's 'different' and silent. It's sickening upsetting to see happen to the person you love.

Trying to help as best as possible but just as there's improvement, she's shipped off. After a while she is finally allowed visitors and we're greeted with 'our Lottie' (the Lottie we saw with the bob cut, acting somewhat normal when she calmed her roommate down ?)

- 🌿

— YOU’RE AS FAR FROM ME AS MEMORY

— warnings: hurt/comfort. angst. established relationship. post-crash lottie & gn!reader.

— a/n: after receiving some lottie requests, i finally sat down to edit this old draft. i’m so sorry it took over a month to finish 🌿 anon! i hope you like it <3

before the crash, back when you and lottie were inseparable, practically two halves of the same whole, you were hers, and she was yours.

you weren’t the same, far from it, but where she was softer, quieter, you had no trouble filling the gaps. the differences never mattered. not to her. not to you.

you were her safe place, her person. it didn’t matter what anyone thought, not the other girls on her team, not even her mother, with her sharp eyes and even sharper comments.

the disapproving glances, the subtle digs about how you spent too much time at their house, how you were ‘a distraction’, none of it ever phased lottie. she would just roll her eyes, brushing it off like it was nothing. ‘ignore her,’ she’d say, grabbing your hand and pulling you toward the door.

and for a long time, nothing could get between the two of you. what did change that, in the end, was the crash.

when the plane goes down, you lose her in the worst way imaginable: not to death, but to the agonizing unknown. there’s no closure like this, no way of saying goodbye, just the silence that follows the chaos and a stretch of empty days that bleed into weeks, into months. 19 torturous months. you cycle through grief, hope, and despair as the world gives up on the girls one by one.

you never do.

you hold on to her in the only way you know how, clinging to every memory to keep whatever remains of her alive: the sound of her laugh. the way lottie would say your name when no one else was listening, soft and unguarded.

even as the days go on endlessly and everyone around you insists it’s time to let go, you refuse to believe she’s really gone. you don’t care that the world seems to move on without her, without any of them. you don’t.

because in your heart, in your stubborn, aching heart that refuses to let go, you know lottie is out there. somewhere.

and then, against all odds and after almost 2 years, she comes home.

she’s thinner than you ever could have imagined, gaunt and hollowed out as she steps off the plane. the shadows beneath her eyes seem to belong to someone else, someone you’ve never known and her face bears the mark of whatever things she’s been through out there.

a new scar cuts across her face, a jagged line of red against her pale skin and her eyes don’t look at you. they don’t meet yours as she steps forward, as if the world around her is something she can’t quite make sense of anymore. lottie’s alive. she’s standing right in front of you, but somehow it feels like she’s still a thousand miles away.

she doesn’t speak at first. not to you or anyone else.

the girl you remember is gone. in her place is someone entirely different. someone guarded. quiet.

lottie flinches at any loud sounds, her body tensing, an instinctive reaction that feels so foreign. her hands are twitching at her sides when she’s anxious, restless, unable to stay still even when she’s trying.

at night, it’s even worse.

the first time you hear lottie screaming in her sleep, it chills you to the bone. it’s not words, nothing coherent, just these sharp, guttural sounds that tear from her throat, like lottie is fighting something in her dreams, something that’s trying to get her, that won’t let go.

you rush to her side immediately, gripping her hand, whispering her name until she wakes up, gasping and drenched in sweat. still, lottie doesn’t say anything at all. you can see it in the way she trembles, in the way her body curls into itself, that she’s seeking comfort in a world that feels too big, too loud, too overwhelming.

physically, lottie has come back, but it feels like a part of her has stayed behind in the woods where they’ve been found.

you visit her every day, bringing her little things; flowers, books, her favorite snacks. you tell her stories about school, about what she missed.

you know she’s listening. you feel it in the way lottie sometimes glances at you, the way her eyes flicker over your face, as though she’s trying to remember something. but she doesn’t speak. not yet.

one day, you bring a photo of the two of you from before the crash: you, wearing her soccer uniform. lottie, with her arm slung around your shoulder. both of you grinning for the camera.

you place it gently in front of her, your fingers brushing hers as you do. for a moment, there’s a shift. you don’t know if it’s the picture, or just the sheer act of bringing a piece of her past into her present, but something stirs in lottie then.

her fingers hover over it, trembling slightly as though she’s unsure of how to react, but it’s enough to make your heart race. lottie’s lips part, and her breath catches, but instead of saying anything, she simply shifts. slowly, she drapes her arm around you, just like she did in the picture.

it’s not a verbal response, not the reunion you’ve imagined a thousand times, but it’s more than you could have asked for.

you feel the familiar weight of her arm around you, the warmth of her body leaning close. for the first time in what feels like forever, she feels like your lottie again.

slowly, she starts to come back to you.

a nod here, a faint smile there: small but significant changes, each one another glimmer of the girl she used to be.

the first time she speaks, it’s barely more than a whisper: you’re sitting in her room, reading aloud from a book you brought, when she suddenly says, “that’s dumb.”

you freeze, your heart skipping a beat. “what?”

lottie looks at you, her brow furrowed like she’s trying to piece together how to have a conversation again. “the book,” she says, her voice hoarse. “it’s dumb.”

tears spring to your eyes as you laugh, relief flooding through you. “it kind of is, isn’t it?” you agree, setting it aside. “you want to pick something better next time?”

she doesn’t answer, but the corner of her mouth twitches, and she nods.

and just when you start to feel like everything is falling back into place, just when things begin to feel like they’re normal again, it happens.

her parents announce they’re sending lottie away.

it happens suddenly, without warning or time to prepare. one moment, everything is tentative and fragile but steady, and the next, it all shatters.

her mother pulls you aside, her face determined. she explains, almost rehearsed, that it’s for lottie’s own good, that she needs ‘specialized care’ they can’t provide at home.

the next time you see her, her suitcase is already packed.

lottie doesn’t say anything about leaving. when you ask her how she feels about it, she just shrugs, as though it doesn’t matter, as though she has no say in it at all. there’s no fight left in her, not like before.

but when you hug her goodbye, your arms wrapped tightly around her fragile body, you feel it: lottie’s hands clutch the back of your jacket a little too tightly, her fingers digging into the fabric, her breath shaky against your shoulder. you know that she doesn’t want to go.

“i’ll write to you,” you promise with a stolen kiss to her temple. “every day. i mean it.”

lottie doesn’t respond, just nods faintly. and then she’s gone.

the months that follow are almost as unbearable as her time away had been, only this time you know that she’s alive. somewhere out there, across an ocean, in some place that you can’t even imagine, with no real way of knowing what’s happening to her.

theres nothing to find about the facility her mother had told you about, where her parents have placed her in the hopes of fixing what can’t be fixed.

you write to lottie constantly and tell her everything: how much you miss her, how you’re counting down the days until you can see her again, how impossibly quiet it feels without her even though she barely spoke at all in the time before she left. you write her about the little things, too: what the weather is wiskayok is like, updates on your favorite tv shows, silly memories that make you think of her. anything to make her feel like you’re still there with her.

for the longest time there’s no response to your letters.

you try to tell yourself it’s because she’s busy, that maybe the clinic has rules about correspondence, or maybe the letters are just getting lost in transit.

deep down, you’re terrified, scared that lottie is slipping away even more than before.

then, finally, you get one back.

lottie’s handwriting is messier than you remember, shaky and uneven, but it’s unmistakably hers.

she doesn’t say much, just that she’s okay, that she’s adjusting, that she misses you too. there’s one part you cling to, one line that you reread a hundred times: ‘i promise I’m going to be okay’.

you don’t even realize you’re crying until the tears blur the ink on the page. it’s not much, but it’s enough. for now, it’s enough.

over time, the letters start coming more frequently.

at first, they’re short, simple updates on how her therapy sessions are going, what the clinic is like, little details about the group activities they have her doing.

as the weeks go on, they start to feel more like her. she tells you about her roommate, shares stories about the other patients. lottie even slips in a joke now and then, and when she does, you can’t help but smile.

and then, after what feels like an eternity of letters, her parents finally agree to let you visit.

the building is tucked away in the swiss mountains, its clinical white buildings surrounded by green hills and snow-capped peaks in the distance. it’s beautiful, serene, even, but the moment you step through the doors, the atmosphere shifts: inside, things feels too still, the walls too white, too sterile. the faint buzz of fluorescent lights and the quiet murmur of staff members moving through the halls only add to your unease.

you’re directed to the common area, your fingers twisting anxiously in your lap as you wait.

you instantly drop them when lottie walks in.

the moment you see her, you freeze. you barely recognize her: lottie’s hair is shorter than you’ve ever seen it, barely brushing past her jawline, but she looks less hollow, less outside of her own body than she did when she stepped off that plane.

then her eyes meet yours, and her entire face lights up. for this one moment, it’s like nothing’s changed. that smile, the one you’ve missed so desperately, breaks through.

“hey,” lottie says, her voice steadier than you expected.

“hey,” you echo.

neither of you moves.

you’re not sure if you should hug her, if that’s too much, if she’s even comfortable with something like that. before you can overthink it, lottie closes the distance between you. she steps forward and wraps her arms around you, holding you tightly.

instinctively, you bury your face in her shoulder, your breath catching as you fight back tears.

“i missed you,” she murmurs, voice muffled against your shoulder.

“i missed you too,” you whisper back.

you don’t let each other go for what feels like forever, and even when you do, lottie’s hand lingers on your arm, like she’s afraid you’ll vanish if she lets go entirely.

the staff gives you a few hours to spend together, and you’re determined make the most of it.

lottie walks you through the clinic’s garden, catching up on everything she’s missed. she listens, really listens, and for the first time in so long, you feel like you’re finally connecting again.

when she starts to open up, she tells you about her therapy sessions, how hard it was at first to trust anyone there, but that it’s getting easier.

“i’m not…fixed or anything,” she says at one point, glancing at you hesitantly. “but it’s better. i feel…calmer”

“you don’t have to be fixed,” you say firmly, giving her hand a squeeze. “you’ve always been enough, just as you are”

lottie looks at you for a long moment, her eyes softening. “thanks,” she says quietly.

the two of you keep walking, but her hand stays in yours.

as the visit winds down, you find yourselves sitting together on a wooden bench near the edge of the garden, where the mountains stretch out in the distance.

lottie rests her head on your shoulder, her short hair brushing against your neck. her fingers graze against yours absentmindedly, tracing patterns on your skin.

her touch is light, moving as if guided by instinct. you smile as lottie traces a small circle, then angles downward into a triangle, her movements branching out with sharp lines. the pattern shifts, ending in a soft curve in the palm of your hand.

“do you think they’ll let you visit again?” she asks, knowing your time is running out.

you turn your head slightly, resting your cheek against her hair. “i’ll make sure of it,” you mumble. “they’re not keeping me away from you.”

lottie tilts her head slightly, just enough to glance up at you. “you’re always so sure of everything,” she smiles.

“not everything,” you admit, chuckling. “but this? you and me? i’m sure about that!”

when the staff approaches, lottie lifts her head, and you feel the loss of her weight against you immediately. she stands slowly, her eyes never leaving yours.

“you’ll write me?” she asks.

“every day,” you assure, standing up to face her. “and i’ll be back as soon as they let me!”

before you can fully process it, lottie steps forward and wraps her arms around you. the hug is different from the one when you first arrived: this one feels like a goodbye, like she’s holding onto you with everything she has left.

“i don’t want to let go,” she whispers, so quiet the staff won’t hear.

“i’ll come back for you,” you say as you clutch her tighter.

she pulls back just enough to look at you, her hands still clutching your jacket like it’s the only thing anchoring her. “you’re sure about that?”

“always,” you tell lottie firmly, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

finally, the staff clears their throat, and you know it’s time. she hesitates before letting her hands drop. “i’ll see you soon,”

“soon,” you echo, watching as she turns and walks back toward the clinic.

you hold onto the hope that next time will be different. that with each visit, she’ll feel a little less like a stranger, and someday, when she finally gets to leave this place, she’ll feel like your lottie again, the one you’ve been waiting for all this time.

the one you will wait for, no matter how long it’ll take.

— c.ai

[culbi]

you know even if billford is what brought me into gravity falls, i should have known that fiddauthor is what i will stay for

I mean, yes billford is great and i love it and it's pure angst and pain (both physical and psychological) and manipulations and agony and everything but. but. fiddleauthor is everything i value in a good ship, its a)friends to lovers. they are great friend and they get each other and they are there for each other. b) BELIEVABLE. the homophobic environment, the desperation, the fiddleford's wedding with a woman he doesn't love, the escape to gravity falls to be with the one man who Understands you. AND ford being "different" in one way, nobody suspected he was "different" in another. and wait, not "different". a FREAK. neither of them can let anyone think they are anything more than friends

and c) (optional, really, but greatly appreciated) they are a scientist and an engineer. i just love science in romance, cant help it

but lets get back to how REALISTIC fiddauthor is. and it has variants. both of them in love and dating and keeping their relationship a secret because letting anyone know is dangerous? yes. neither of them realizing what those feelings are and just enjoyind spending time together with occasional lingering touch or look? or even staying late at night, whispering to no one but moon and a man in front of them how lucky they are to have each other? sure. what about one-sided romance? fidds getting the hots for stanford or ford realizing why he had never been interested in a girl in school - you can have anything. and don't get me started on how sorry i am for fiddleford's wife, because she probably genuinely loves him. she just wants her husband to be home with her and their son, and fiddleford just... can't. that life is not for him and hes too afraid to admit it to himself, let alone emma may.

but then, hooo, then comes little billy. billy who plays with their feelings, fiddlefords in particular, definitely knowing what keeps the man up at night. he teases, he teases so much, he wants to tear them both to shreds and keep ford to himself, all broken and alone. god, if there were any gentle kisses or forehead touches between the scientists before, bill does that he posseses fords body and he and fidds have sex. and its awful. and its good. fiddleford doesn't get to say no, and even if he did, he couldnt say no. not when its ford, or his voice or his hands or his lips. and the funniest part? ford wouldn't remember or KNOW about that. fiddleford of course feels awful, feels like he used his friend, abused his trust, ruined everything. bill, manipulative bitch he is, just messes with their relationship, with fidds mind and ford sense of reality. atta boy.

in conclusion: fiddauthor is beautiful, a piece of art, and billfiddlesford is an upgrade version, special pain edition.

[urautismdiagnosis]

Kwazii And Tweak Dynamic Headcanons

<rough sketch sorry lol>

@traumatizedartist

They are ✨SIBLINGS✨ to me-

EDIT: I forgot to mention that I'm 1000% sure neither one remembers to do their laundry all the time so they totally steal eachothers clothes 😭

The big sister of thr octopod and our tiny daredevil gremlin?!!

cmon yall remember the earlier seasons though 🥺 hed crash a gup or sneak out in the middle of the night drive the gup b (and she always woke up whenever he left she has that rabbit hearing)- she has the Big Sister Authority, she just let's you use the gups 😔🙏 u better be grateful kwazii

Him KNOWING he'd be in so much trouble when he snuck out to *try* to teach shellington to drive-

(They canoncially ended up both crashing after shellington imitated kwazii CRASHING and then shellie was like "owh no! We should call tweak :o"

and kwazii immeditaly yelled out NO-i I i mean we can do it ourselves! Its fine! <:] no need to tell tweak matie"

Not to mention he looks up to her and calls her a genius???

Tweak loves this little guy and his antics though 😭 she loves to see him happy but she's really the type to either encourage the mischief (like girl we all know u did not need to make flying fish mode really ans truly u did that for the silly cat) or be the one yo get him into trouble 😭

He def doesn't crash the gups like before, but I feel like at a certain point she absolutely made him help her. I headcanon that he actually started helping her alot more with repairs and etc as time went on, hes not some engineering genius but he can help

They're also both so proud of eachother and trust eachother so deeply, esp in The Ring Of Fire where they both had to escape the flooded (and on fire???) Underwater base that tweak used for big gup repairs and upkeep

Tweak loves old classic games and kwazii never really had too much exposure to popular media, unless u count his comics lol, I feel like autism meets adhd with them yk? U can't convince me that tweak wouldn't have introduced him to sonic the hedgehog and that he wouldn't have LOVED it

They have banter and inside jokes and they know eachothers habits and needs yk?

They look out for eachother, whether its trying to prevent the other (kwazii cough cough) from getting into trouble or being the one willing to risk their own safety to make sure the other is ok 🥺

Also for my own au kwazii did spend a considerable amount of his teen years alone, meanwhile tweak just has the autism where u do not know how to "live normally and properly take care of urself"

They both have atrocious sleep schedules me thinks, with kwaziis adhd making him be up at random hours and tweak falling deep into the rabbit hole (pun INTENDED)of engineering and working

I think he helps remind her to take care of herself without any judgement you know

Tweak is the type of person to not judge anyone either and just hear you out i think and kwazii seems like the type who would go waddle in a seamp for hours to dig out the necklace you lost just so u could be happy

So yes they love eachother and they mean the world to me 🥺

Kwazii is just so excited about everything this woman does lol, and she's like oh God this guy really is somethin and I think thats great

Shes just like sure hun to him yapping for 3 + hours about his idea to add fcking canons or some sht to the gups as she's welding stuff together

Also I think kwazii would be a decent mechanic for the gups after all the years of practice with tweaks supervision and teaching i mean he has whole mini pirate ship replicas in jars for crying out loud, as long as he can keep his brain engaged i think he has the ability to do precision work and repairs, esp since he did sail on his own by himself for years anyways

Woods pretty different from metal but tweak is patient with him, even if her "oh u fcked up" glare (and the weight of its consequences) could absolutely smite you on the spot

I might be forgetting some stuff but yall see the vision right, but lmk yalls headcanons n all that lol

ALSO ANY CULTURAL HEADCANONS I HAVE ABOUT TWEAK IS OBJECTIVELY CORRECT CUZ IM FROM THERE TOO ( I'm joking lol people can have different opinions duh, but fr i just i feel connected to her in my soul 🥺)

(Like girlie kwaziis room is better than yours, why the fck don't u have a dresser but instead just a whole *ss kitchen table? Not bed frame, no decent lighting, repair parts on your floor its a mess- like i feel you tweak I've been there, but bbg its been years and im sure the other crew members have talked to u about this, atp its a CHOICE and honestly continueing to live like that is real)

[talaok]

Okay . What about pedro × reader

Hear me out ...

They are dating for a few months but keeping it a secret the reader is also an actress and in her new movie her Co star is into her and with the interviews everyone is talking about in in social media . So pedro gets jealous and show up at her work ... maybe they fight or idk . I'm not sure about the ending

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!reader

Summary: Pedro’s jealous of one of your co-stars

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst because I didn’t feel like doing a lot, and allusion to smut

A/n: why do yall like jealous Pedro so much!?

Pedro was not a jealous man, he knew you were his, just like he was yours.

He didn't mind the stares you'd attract from other men, he didn't mind the shameless flirting everyone always directed your way, and he didn't even mind having to see you kiss other men on screen... but there's a limit to everything.

He'd stumbled by accident in the comment section of your most recent post, a picture with the cast of the new movie you were shooting, and god if he wished he hadn't.

He meant to write a cute comment, because even though nobody knew about you two, nobody ever seemed to notice the borderline flirty words he'd leave under your pictures, and now he understood why.

He wasn't completely oblivious to the online conspiracies about you and Andrew, you had told him about it, about all the edits and fans and ships or whatever, however, there was a small detail you had forgotten to inform him about: the guy obviously liked you.

And who could blame him right? 

Pedro. He could fucking blame him.

It didn't take long before he was furiously stalking his own girlfriend's Instagram.

you look stunning darling

Darling? When the fuck did he start calling you that?

I think I just had a heart attack

Oh, fuck off

And that wasn't even the worst part. Fuck no. The worst part was the fucking videos. the interviews. The way his eyes never left your fucking body. The way he touched your hand and lingered just enough for him to notice. the way he didn't even try to hide his pathetic attempts at flirting even when he knew he was being fucking filmed.

By the time Pedro shut his phone, he was ready to go have a “talk” with this guy

But first, he needed to see you. Now.

__ __ __

"God please if it's Gary tell him that I don't need to practice that scene again, I got it." you rolled your eyes as you instructed your assistant to open the trailer's door after hearing a knock.

"sure thing, but I don't think he can be so easily persuad-" her voice trailed off as she took in the man in front of her.

"Hi" she smiled at Pedro "It's-it's not Gary" she shot you a look.

"what, who is it?" you asked, momentarily forgetting the lipstick in your hand as you got up.

"Pedro?"

"hi sweetheart"

"what are you doing here?" you couldn't hide your confusion.

"Just wanted to see you," he said, entering the trailer.

"Oh," you smiled, before glancing at your assistant "I'm sorry Ana, could you give us a moment?"

"no problem, but remember you need to be on set in '15"

"yes ma'am" You joked, giving her a pretend salute.

She chuckled as she closed the door behind her.

"they have you on a tight schedule huh?" Pedro murmured, wasting no time before wrapping his arms around your back, forcing you flush against him.

"they do" you nodded, standing on your toes "So you're not gonna get what you came all this way for" you taunted, leaving a quick kiss on his lips.

He grunted, unsatisfied, and pulled you back for another kiss. This one much hungrier.

"Is that what you think I only think about?"

"well you don't make much of a case for yourself" you laughed softly.

"that's your fault" he breathed "If you weren't the most stunning woman on earth maybe I wouldn't be so all over you"

"maybe" you shrugged, lazily drawing patterns on his chest "Maybe not"

"I need to talk to you," he said, suddenly more serious.

A cloud of dread dropped onto you.

"oh," you murmured, taking a step back "about what?"

He looked around the place before finding your eyes again.

"I want to tell everyone"

You frowned 

"I want to tell people we're together"

You were taken aback.

He was always the one opposed to it. He didn't want you to get caught in all the drama and gossip inevitably heading your way, no matter how many times you told him you didn't care.

"What?" you smiled "Why- I mean why now?"

"I want everyone to know you're mine. And I'm yours" he said " including Andrew"

You shot him a look "Andrew?"

"You didn't tell me he's obsessed with you"

"what? He's not"

"he is baby,"

"how would you even know?"

"I saw it"

"When? You've never met him"

"I saw the comments, and the interviews, and the videos"

"And you think just because in an interview he did what? made me laugh, he likes me?" you scoffed "That's ridiculous Pedro"

"I don't want to tell everyone we're together just because you're jealous of a guy I work with," 

"that's not why I want to tell sweetheart" he reassured you, taking a step towards you " I want everyone to know just how much I love you, that's why. And if that means that guys like Andrew will back off... even better"

"He's not into me" you insisted

A sly smile pulled at his lips "God baby, you really have no idea what you do to men, do you?"

"He's not into me."

"Sure" he mocked "and tell me, when was the last time he didn't do something you asked him?" He asked, moving some hair out of your face.

An almost comical silence spread through the room.

"That's what I thought" he nodded, using his fingers to raise your chin.

"Maybe he's just polite"

He leaned closer, his mouth ghosting yours "Or maybe he's just in love with my girl" he breathed a moment before kissing you deeply, one hand to the back of your neck and one to your ass.

"so what do you say?" he asked once you parted "You ready to tell the world?"

"Only if you are"

"oh you have no idea" he murmured, suddenly picking you up and pinning you against a wall.

A small gasp fled your lips, but he silenced it with a kiss.

"Pedro..." you warned him, tightening your legs' grip on his waist.

"they can wait" he read your mind "You're the start after all"

You couldn't help but laugh at that.

"you're a bad influence" you breathed, causing a smirk to land on his lips as he kissed your neck.

"sweetheart?" he suddenly asked

"Yeah?" you murmured, already out of breath.

"Whose trailer is next to this one?"

You paused a moment, pondering your options.

"Andrew's" you finally spoke, going for the truth “Why?”

By the look of it, that’s exactly what he wanted to hear.

“Baby,I think you know why”

[yandere-sins]

A yandere with a darling who is kinda worse than they are but are still into it.....I don't know how unhinged you'd have to be for the yan to be like "Are you ok? Like if you need to talk about it I've put listening devices in the vents but still..."

I didn't want this to go into compliant darling territory or the darling being the yandere for someone else (though I did laugh a lot at the idea of telling the darling that the vents are bugged just in case they need it lol that's a good one). But this somewhat brought me a kind of different idea which you probably didn't intend, but I hope you like it all the same!

Warnings: Yandere, Violence (Descriptive acts of murder, stabbing, punching other people, breaking bones, getting bloody, a lot of blood actually, burying bodies), Sexual Content (Mentioning of non-con, dub-con, taking advantage, doing it in the blood of victims and next to dead bodies), Mentioning of drugs, Mentioning of knives, Patient/Doctor relationships, Murderer/Admirerer relationships, Reader is a serial killer, Yandere captures people for reader to kill, Yandere is also mad but so is reader, Reader doubts yandere's reasons for liking them, Reader is genderneutral but gets lifted into a bridal-style at the end, I once again didn't compile these warnings while writing and editing so I might miss some, sorry :(, Mentioning of wanting to throw up, Reader doesn't actually want to get better, it was different but really fun to write, Long post?, I feel like there are more warnings... but I can't remember anymore, if you made it this far and still want to read it, I hope you enjoy it!

»»———————— ♡ ————————««

Click

You sighed, holding your head in your hands, arms squeezed between your torso and legs. Your head was throbbing with the headache of the century. One you hadn't had in a long time... like five days. 

"You're a fucking dick, you know that?"

Groaning, you heard your own voice echo through your dizzy brain, nausea building as you felt like you were on a ship, everything moving unsteadily around you. The blinding lights flooding the off-white room didn't help soothe the feeling either, and your whole body kept tensing up, readying itself to throw up. You tried deep breaths, but they barely did anything. Not like they ever did something. You were too far gone for that.

"I did what was necessary," his voice rang out through the speaker in the top left corner, accompanied by the screeching of technical issues. You whined loudly, tearing your hair out as your head felt like it would burst. "My bad," he added, turning down the volume.

"What was it this time? Double the dose, triple? Must you keep drugging me? Some doctor you are..."

"I tried something new," he admitted, a cheeky grin in his voice. 

"Worked great..." you slurred, listening to him chuckle. 

For a while, you gave in to the need to collapse, putting your arm over your eyes to escape the lights while you thought about the last few things you could remember. Therapy was going well... at least that's what you were told. But the nurses—ugh. That one bitch.

"She did it on purpose," you mumbled, hearing the softest of agreement through the speaker. You knew that if it wasn't against regulation, he'd be sitting next to you, brushing your hair out of the way while you'd tell him your woes. He was that kind of sicko. A doctor, yet fascinated with you, his patient. Even though he merely sat behind the cameras, watching you, you could hear the sickening affection he held for only his favorite patient in every one of his words. 

In a way, he wasn't that different from you.

"You beat her up real good, smashed her face in. Got yourself into a frenzy and just tore open all your stitches from your last fight while you were at it, you really..."

He sighed. He was disappointed. Upset. This was a significant setback for him, too, after all. 

"She called me too stupid to ever recover properly and I was trying this time, really! How else should I have reacted?"

"You could have told me."

"And you would have dealt with her how?"

A brief chuckle rang out before he replied, although, had you been less delirious, you wouldn't have needed to ask. You knew what he did to people who behaved poorly with you. "I would have taken care of her, as always. You know you have my unending support."

You couldn't help a smile creeping over your face, the memory of burying the last nurse who bothered you in the asylum's cemetary resurfacing. Digging out the grave had been hard work, but you had to agree with him that the physical labor did wonders to soothe your ever-agitated mind. 

"You're terrible," you mumbled, unable to hide your smile.

"Ah! There it is! Look at those little dimples! I'm glad my services are appreciated by my darling. I was hoping to take you out on a rendevous once the dust settles. Maybe we can do that sooner than I expected."

"Who'd want that, you sicko."

Groaning, you finally sat up, looking down at the cushioned floor while you adjusted to being awake. Standing took a few attempts; the cushions aligned along the wall, not actually graspable, even if they looked like it. Everything about the solitary cell was so safe, it made you feel helpless. But eventually you managed to get to your wobbly feet, sighing in exhaustion once you stood.

"There you go, breaking my heart," he sighed, and you shook your head with a laugh, knowing he didn't mean it. 

"No straight jacket this time?" you asked, raising your arms and, for the first time since you awoke, realizing your movements were unrestraint.

"You weren't in a condition to restrain you. I prioritized your healing over that awful jacket."

"You just don't like it because it does nothing for my figure."

Again, you heard the grin in his voice as he said, "Busted. You're too cute to walk around constrained. Even though I love how crazy you look with it."

"Sicko..." you mumbled, your nickname for your doctor, endearing only in his ears. 

Your limbs were terribly heavy as you moved them towards the door. Part of you wanted to collapse on the ground again; simply pass out where you were. But knowing him, he'd definitely use the opportunity to take advantage of you, especially now that he could get a video of it. 

You didn't always mind what your doctor did to you. In a way, he was helpful even if everything you two did was against any laws in this country. If anyone knew what you two were getting into when no one was looking, you'd both be put down like rabid dogs. But that's just how you two were—feral.

The sicko kept telling you how he'd get you back on track. How he'd "fix" you just enough so you could go home with him. There was no way you'd consider living with him if you ever did get out. Still, he liked to paint the picture whenever he crawled into your bed while on night duty, hugging you and telling you about his ideas. You told him often enough that, given the chance, you'd kill him outside the safety of this institution, but so far... you hadn't.

You had enough chances, enough people he let you murder, watching you while you did it and helping you to hide the bodies once you were satisfied, but you never once turned the knife on him. Maybe it was because of his studies; perhaps he knew more about you than you about yourself. Or it was because he was just as insane. Fucking your patient in the blood of their victims was definitely not normal, even you knew that. So what other reason could he have for it except insanity? 

"Earth to my darling, I repeat: Are you thirsty?"

You felt the heat spread over your face as you felt called out by his question, almost as if he was reading your mind. It wasn't like you two were lovers. There was no chance in hell you'd get together with someone like him—or anyone for that matter. You didn't want the burden of someone clinging to you while you did your dirty work.

But the sex after releasing all your pent-up anger? Out of this world. 

Perhaps his doctorate was in fucking instead of psychiatry, but he knew how to work every part of his body. And he knew just how to get you in the mood, too. An explosive combination, mixing his lust with your madness.

That didn't change much about your feelings for him, though. 

"I'm not," you muttered, trying to hide your face, which probably showed the embarrassment you felt, thinking of the last romp you two had. You tried the deep breaths again, but the thoughts kept popping back into your mind. Must be the drugs, you thought.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Of course!" 

His excitement was loud and clear as it rang through the microphone, and you weren't sure if you should smile at it or sneer. For some reason, you both held each other in a tight grip, unable to be separated, yet most likely toxic for each other. But he still got excited over any kind of interest you had in him and you about all the things he did so you could live out your best life—even though you were locked away for a reason. 

"Why me?" you asked, standing in front of the door, not looking up. Even if he was just the voice behind a camera at the moment, somehow, this question left a bad taste in your mouth. You didn't want him to see the conflict on your face; didn't want him to know that you were doubting how deserving you were of his favor. It wasn't insecurity, wasn't a need for reassurance, but how could anyone look at you and think, "That's the one!"? You killed people, went into violent rages, and weren't considered safe enough to be reintegrated into society, probably ever again. There was nothing you had to show for yourself. Nothing that could justify the feeling of adoration your own therapist held for you. Especially not he. He should have been one of the good ones. And you weren't. It made no sense to you why he'd behave like he did.

"Why you what?"

"Why do you like me so much? I mean, come on! I mean, look at us! We're batshit crazy! This isn't some romance movie on television, we're actually doing bad shit, and yet you keep shielding me, doing me favors, telling me you love me. I'm sure there are others out there who you can fix and fuck if you like. It's not like..."

Biting your own tongue, you wondered if it was the new drug combo he tried on you that made you feel especially irritated with his feelings that day. You let him do all this stuff to and with you, but now you were getting weirded out by it? It wasn't like you to get so worked up over him; you were more of the cool type, spitting-in-his-face-type if he pissed you off. You didn't even want to validate his feelings for you, but also... being self-aware enough to know you were a danger to humankind, you couldn't shake the feeling he might just be using you for his own sick desires. And that made you angry again. You'd not be a pawn or a means for no one.

Click

"Wow, okay, you bastard." Your grumbling fell on deaf ears as he turned off the microphone. "Sure, I'm going through something here, but by all means, stop listening. Not like it's your job or anything..."

Unprepared, you jolted back as the door to your cell suddenly yanked open, revealing the pitch-black corridor that lay behind. Apparently, it was late at night, but you couldn't focus on that as your doctor appeared from the shadows, a deep frown etched into his beautiful face. He should have been a model. At least that job wouldn't have led him to meet you.

"Do you doubt me?" he asked, stalking forward, undeterred by the open door, not thinking for a second that you'd try to escape. "Do I need a reason to love you for you to believe it?"

He caught your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back as he matched the steps you were taking backward. Soon, you'd run out of space to back into, but perhaps that was his goal. 

"Can't I just love you because the first time you caved in and told me about the things you went through, things just felt... right? Everything just clicked in my head, and I thought, "Wow, I want to see them happy!" Must there be any other reason for me to love you?"

Your back hit the wall just as his eyes lowered to your lips, his thumb reaching up to brush over them. "I dream about those lips. I can't help but think about you no matter where I go. In the evening, I imagine you curled up on the couch next to me; sometimes, I hear your laugh when you aren't even there. I want that picture-perfect life with you, but the moment I step into your room and see you covered in blood, your eyes showing just how far gone you are, it just..."

He looked up again, his eyes swirling with all the emotions he tried to convey in his words. But when he met your gaze, the color drained, leaving behind what you could only describe as pure, unfiltered madness.

"It drives me insane."

His second hand raised to the side of your face. He cupped your cheek in his palm for a moment, a soft smile creeping over his lips. "I like you like this. Docile, calm, sweet. I like it when you ask me things, I like it when you beg for something. I like it when you only let me do things to you. I want to help you, I do! But..."

His hand sliding down, you looked away, trying to catch it before it slipped around your throat, pressing into it, squeezing so hard you felt as if your head was going to detach from your neck.

"I want to ruin you. I want you worse, I want you deranged. I want you to kill everyone and then me, so I'll be the last of your victims, the only one you remember. I want to be ruined by you so badly that every day, I hope you tell me about yet another staff member we get to kill, and then you can use me to satisfy your needs. Can't you understand? This is love. No one will ever love someone like you, but. I. do. I understand you, I care for you. And I will continue to do so, with no other reason than I love you. I love you so much."

You gasped for air at this point, fingers grabbing his arm. It was hard listening to him, but it was harder to breathe. You knew he wouldn't kill you. This was nothing compared to other things you two did to each other. It stung a little when he said no one else would ever love you, but he was right. Not unless the change everyone expected from you was also something you wanted. 

But why would you?

The pressure on your throat disappeared, only for your breath to be stolen by his kiss. You hated this man. You hated him because he was a little bit too much like you. Too unhinged to be likable. And at the same time, he wasn't at all. He was too supportive, too nice, too forgiving. It disgusted you, honestly. Yet, you reciprocated, biting his lip hard enough to draw blood. Before he could back off, you caught his cheeks in a squeeze between your fingers to draw him back to lick off the red fluid, reminding him he wasn't the deranged one here. 

"Don't question me again about my feelings, please," he asked, out of breath, too, as he bumped his forehead against yours. "I love you, I really do."

"You're a sicko, you know that? And your beard is stinging me, you should shave."

At this, he laughed out loud, raising his head to the ceiling. "I spent three days waiting for you to wake up. You can deal with some stubble."

"No, I don't like it."

Grinning, he lowered his face to you and gave you another peck on the lips. "It's gone tomorrow, I promise."

"Can I go back to my room now?"

He hummed thoughtfully before shaking his head. "Someone's awaiting their punishment still. You really want to miss out on that?"

Now it was your turn to grin as well. "Aww, you shouldn't have! Are we gonna cut up that bitch now? For real?"

"Anything for you," he mumbled, raising your hand to give it a quick smooch. "But let me change your bandages first. I don't want you to accidentally get sepsis if your wounds are still open."

"Surprisingly, you're still a doctor at heart."

"That's not true," he gasped, feigning indignation about your statement.

"Are you not?" you asked, watching him bend down to pick you up, bridal-style even. You weren't mad since your legs felt even weaker than before, and you really wanted to conserve your energy. 

"I'm afraid it's no longer medicine that has claimed my heart."

He looked at you, smiling softly. "It's all you."

"And I can't help but love you more, realizing I am becoming more like you every day."

[midnight1nk]

EPISODE CONCEPT #7

What if... SMG4 takes a vacation?

[more below cut]

For context... c'mon, can't a guy catch a break? :) Time for a vacation! [Also available on AO3 + Wattpad]

Let's hope Four doesn't waste all the bajillion dollars I just gave him. Am I right, @bowlolol? (yep it's part 2 of concept #5 - link)

"No regrets."

Four zips up his suitcase with an exhausted yet satisfied "hmph". He sat the case up to its wheel, facing the Crew. "You guys have always been telling me to take a break from editing, especially because of WOTFI and Marty months ago. It's about time. Besides, I just finished editing the video I've worked on for the past week." 

Four pulls out his phone and presses the "Publish" button on the YouTube studio, making a video public. "And...there, I should be good for the whole vacation," he said. "I mean, who wouldn't want to see a 10-hour complication of Kermit clips!"

Puppy-eyed Mario falls to his knees, putting his hands together. "SMG4, please take Mario with you!"

"Sorry, Mario, but the giveaway only had one ticket to give out. It was such a good deal too!" His finger points over to the pile of empty RIZZ soda cans in the corner of the room, it admittedly took forever to find the ultra-rare can with the QR code. "Totally worth it."

Mario went over to Four, pleading him to sneak the Italian Funnyman(TM) in his suitcase. In the meantime, Meggy was on a video call with an old friend.

"Thanks again, Auri, for being SMG4's guide. Just make sure he doesn't lose his suitcase like I did," she said.

Auri giggles. "Of course, anything for you, partner! I'll be sure to meet him at the port. Guy with the blue "S" cap, right?" Meggy nods in response, Auri does a salute. "Alright. But I hope his ship gets here before the storm does, heard it was going to be really rough."

"Yeah, SMG4 can get a bit seasick. Well, we're just about to drop him off by the docks. I'll talk to you soon, Auri!"

After Auri says goodbye, they hang up and Meggy turns to see Mario being dragged around by his grip on Four's ankle. She asked, "Ready to go?"

Four gave her a thumbs-up. "You bet!"

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

The Crew waved Four farewell as he did the same as he was on board the ship heading towards Port Aurora. Once the ship was out of sight, they all went back to what they were doing, content with the fact that Four wouldn't be in front of the screen all day. Well, everyone except Mario, who was staring up at the ceiling of his bedroom out of boredom.

Don't get him wrong, Mario is happy for Four. Ever since the 'perfect' incident, each of them was secretly weary of Four spending too much time editing a video. Not that they could stop him completely, he's a YouTube content creator after all. So, they would occasionally go up to him and ask him for something or straight up to take a break. Mario remembered he did it one time, when he asked Four for milk. Sure, it wasn't the most solid plan but it was at least something that distracted him for a bit. What other plan was there anyway?

Ask him for a cup of sugar? Pfft. That's pretty lame excuse, even for Mario.

Mario groaned, getting off from his bed. Four finally takes a break but without him around, the poor plumber is left alone, bored. There wasn't really anyone to go along with his funny shenanigans. So, he tried it with his other friends.

Luigi ended up having to clean up the mess he made at the flower shop. Melony was busy working on her second book. He got bored listening to Boopkin's stories. Three was also busy, running the cafe and streaming. Saiko was in band practice with Kaizo.

Then, there was Meggy. From what he could tell, Meggy was unsure if she could keep her red beanie. Unsure what to do with her life anymore. He couldn't blame her, after Western Spaghetti and what Mr Puzzles did. It was a lot to take in. It'll be best to give her some space, away from his silliness.

So, he tried doing stuff on his own, like reacting to some Nintendo memes in the game room. But it didn't feel the same. Tari was also there, focused on a gaming session with Belle and some other online friends. 

However, seeing how Mario drooping in his chair, Tari paused her game. "Sorry guys but I need to do something real quick. Be right back." She mutes her microphone and heads over to her friend. "Hey, Mario? You feeling okay?" 

"I'm just so bored," the red Italian said. "Wish SMG4 was here." 

"Oh, Mario, it's only been a couple of hours. He won't be back until after 3 weeks." 

"ONLY A COUPLE OF HOURS?" Mario shouted, his eyes shot open. Panicking, he went to shake Tari by the shoulders. "Tari, someone is messing with the time gods! It's the end of the world!"

Tari, being used to Mario's energy, simply grabbed his hands in reassurance. "You really miss him, huh?"

"He is Mario's best friend." He calms down, his eyes starting to water. "We have done a lot of stuff together."

"Hmm, do you want to hang out with me?"

"Thanks, but it won't feel the same."

She takes a moment to think, her pointer finger on her chin, until an idea comes to mind. "Why don't you send SMG4 a video postcard?" Tari asks, capturing Mario's curiosity. "I'm sure SMG4 misses us too, so maybe you could send a video of our friends. Around the Showgrounds. You could ask him to do the same in Port Aurora. That way, you guys will still be in contact."

Mario's eyes sparkled, jumping with enthusiasm. He shakes Tari's hand, thanking her, before running out of the game room. With a camera in hand, he goes around recording everything he can and the first person he went to was Luigi, of course. Mario apologized about the mess but he is willing to make it up to him by helping out doing some labor. Luigi was happy at the offer.

While Luigi handled customers and arranged flower arrangements, Mario was going around doing deliveries. It was the best part, after all, steering the wheel while making airplane noises. Nearly crashing into several cars, y'know the usual. But then he passed by Meggy's house. Wanting to cheer her up, he asked Meggy to come along.

Meggy shakes her head. "I don't know, Red."

"C'mon, it'll be fun! Certified Mario promise." 

 "Well, okay..." She complies with a note of hesitation.

Mario let out a "yippee" and carried her to the delivery truck like a sack of potatoes. As Mario drove, Meggy was reading off the list for him since he's not a fan of reading. Her finger stopped at a particular address. "Wait, 'Wright'? As in, Phoenix Wright?" 

"Oh, yeah. That was the lawyer guy you're a fan of, right?" 

"Can we go see him?" She asked, sudden enthusiasm simply blooming from her.

Mario was surprised by it but he smiled, gladly changing the route for her. Stopping at a tall office building, Meggy and Mario went in and searched for Phoenix Wright's office. At the reception desk, they saw the man himself, talking to two younger lawyers in red and yellow. 

The secretary, seeing the duo, called out to Phoenix. "Ooh, looks like someone got a nice bouquet!"

Phoenix, seeing the familiar faces by the desk, excused himself from his co-workers before greeting the M&M duo. "Hello Mario, Meggy! It's been a while. Do you guys need more legal help?"

"No, Mario's just here to help Luigi out." Mario holds out the bouquet, red roses as the order said.

Phoenix grabs it from his hands and examines the card attached. From reading it, he grew a fond smile on his face. "Thanks for the delivery," he said.

Like a polite student, Meggy raised her hand. "Um, actually, I could use some advice. Between friends, if that's okay."

Phoenix tilted his head, gears turning in his mind, before he giver her a nod. "Sure, why don't we take a walk?" He said before turning to the secretary, handing the flowers to her. "Truce..."

"Don't worry, I'll let them know," Trucy reassured. "Just be back before we need to meet for lunch."

"Oh, yeah," Phoenix chuckles. His face then turned serious, almost grim. It was enough to know it was supposed to be mocking. "Wright, I reserved this days ago and you're here drenched in rainwater. This is what happens when you're late," he impersonated with a mid-Atlantic accent before returning to his normal self. "Alright then, take the wheel. We all know how Apollo was last time."

"HEY!" A shout can be heard from another room. "That wasn't even my fault!"

Phoenix and Trucy shake their heads. He guides Mario and Meggy out, and to a nearby park. Mario had some packages to deliver nearby so he left the other two to walk alone.

"So, what's in your mind?" He asks.

 "It's just..." Meggy sighs, trying to tie her thoughts to something cohesive. "A lot has happened."

Meggy goes on to explain what happened after the Nintendo lawsuit. The 'It's Gotta Be Perfect' incident, Western Spaghetti. Mr Puzzles, Leggy. With the Crew, every day is another adventure but it's starting to take a toll on her sometimes.

"Everything I am was because of One-Shot Wren," she explains. "Splatfest, Desti. I idolized him so much that I didn't know what to do with myself after what happened. I get where he was coming from, I do. But he hurt my friends, me. It's like I lived through a lie, my entire life. I just don't know what to do anymore."

"I see." He nods emphatically. "Y'know, you remind me of a friend. He, too, idolized someone, put them on a pedestal. I think it was because he knew what he lost, and he wished he could have it back. Like you, he pursued the same career his idol had, following every guideline to a 'T'. When he discovered his idol was nothing but a cruel man, he felt lost. What else can you do when you are just a pawn in someone else's game?" 

Phoenix pulls out a golden locket from his blazer pocket, clicking the tiny latch open. "So, he went to rediscover himself. What it means to be a prosecutor, was what he told me. He found that answer, pursuing the truth. He taught me a lot of things, and I guess I did the same for him."

Phoenix hands the locket to Meggy, to finally see what was inside. It was a small family portrait. Other than Phoenix, there was another man around the same age, his face more sharper and with warm gray hair. Then there were two teen girls, one with a raven black ponytail, and another girl that Meggy recognized as the secretary she just met. What caught her eye was the gold rings both men wore.

"Wait, you're married?" She asks, handing the locket back.

Indeed, there was a golden band on his ring finger. He laughs. "Not a lot of people suspect the infamous Turnabout Terror being married to the city's Chief Prosecutor. Yes, before we got into law, we were childhood friends."

"Ah, well congrats! You seem to have a nice family."

 "I do. And don't think we don't have our hardships. The point is, Meggy, it's not too late to rediscover who you are. If you want to continue with Splatfest, do it. If you want to continue doing law, do it. But do it for yourself, not to prove something to anyone. Like I said, the truth can help you a lot when you want to find it."

"Thanks, I really needed this," Meggy says, giving a firm nod. The spark that once was lost in her soul started to come back once more.

Mario comes back to get Meggy, and both say goodbye to the lawyer. Meggy soon learned about the postcard idea Tari proposed and wanted to help Mario out, thinking it was a great idea. After the deliveries, they went along filming postcards for everyone.

Luigi and Shroomy prepare a giant flower float for an incoming parade. Melony and Swag presenting the publishing gathering of her newest book. Boopkins having a friendly hangout with Hatsune Miku, talking about anime. Tari and her friends are in a gaming tournament. Bob trying, and failing, to get rich at a nearby casino. Saiko and Kaizo performing in a live audience.

After gathering all of the film, Mario went to go edit them in Four's room. Four, being a content creator and all, would surely have the best editing software.

Pulling the app up, Mario noticed Four left a project open, labeled "video3_draftdraft(unfinished)".

"Huh, a 10-hour compilation of Kermit clips..." Mario concludes by skimming through the video. Not thinking too much about it, he shrugs. "Ah, classic SMG4, he forgot to save and close out." Mario went ahead and saved it, dragging the file to the 'Complete' folder Four had. The outlier, the rest of the files in that folder were either labeled "final" or "(ready)". 

"All done," he proclaims with a thumbs-up. "Now, time to do the postcard."

After editing the videos into a single one, Meggy came to check in on how he was doing. Overall, it looks awesome. Except for one thing...

"What do you guys want?" Three asks. Of course, he could be annoyed but he was more confused by the comedically large camera Mario held. "And what's with the giant camera?"

"We're gonna send SMG4 a video postcard!" Mario said before Meggy chimed in, "It's almost complete, we just need something from you."

Hearing this, Three smirked. "Well then, I'll gladly make a clip all about me!"

"SMG3, be serious," Meggy says. "This isn't time for you to gloat, you can do that any other time. It's more than a postcard, it's to show that we care about SMG4 as his friends."

"Friends?" SMG3 repeated, his smirk fading away to a new mix of expression, bashfulness and denial. He looks away, crossing his arms. "Uh, no. No, we aren't friends."

Both Meggy and Mario shared a suspicious yet amusing brow. Yeah, sure. "So.... can we film?" Mario asks.

"No."

Mario and Meggy blinked, surprised. "What? Why?"

"Because I said so."

Knowing Three, perhaps too well, Meggy knows he's hiding something. "Well, if you want to, you can just film it yourself and send us the clip. We'll leave you be, c'mon Red."

Three watched as M&M duo walked back to the Castle before being back in the cafe. Nearby Eggdog barked, warning him that it was almost time for his stream. "You're right, thanks Eggdog." He patted Eggdog's head. "Pfft, sending a sappy video to SMG4. As if!"

He went ahead to stream Mario Party for tonight, the usual routine. After thanking the chat for the subs and donations, he logged off and pulled out his notebook to write about the day. Just as he turned to a blank page, his finger stopped at a particular page and he stopped to see what it was. It was the drawing he drew at the end of WOTFI 2023, of him and SMG4 sharing a coffee together. Three's face softens.

It's such a phenomenon, isn't it?

Rivals, friends, none of it matters when it comes to Four and Three. They would always cross each other's paths, bounded by a cosmic link. And yet, the roles they play were already set in stone the moment they landed in the Mushroom Kingdom. Good and bad, light and dark.

Two sides of the same coin.

It was always one pressing the other, to keep on their toes. Three supposed that was the thrill of it all, his life ever more exciting. He always wondered if Four felt the same way. If he suspected that it was the case, then it would be even more proof that they can keep up each other's pace. Three knows Four, and Four in return. It's what essentially saved Four from the 'perfect' incident.

Other than Four, no one else could truly understand. Even with Four, there are secrets Three hoped they would never see the light of day. It was the role he was chosen part, and the show must go on. If he revealed all of himself to the rest of the world, surely people wouldn't be happy about it. Hell, people already despised him for not being threatening anymore. How far was he truly going to go for them? For Four?

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, he supposed he could do a clip.

Indeed, take after take, he tried to make a video he was satisfied with. But no matter what he did, his words weren't right. His silence wasn't right. Naturally, he was frustrated at that fact but he pushed himself to give one last take.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Looking over their shoulders, Three's eyes chased after the mouse cursor. He already sent the video to Meggy, trusting her more than Mario. Three already knew Mario would tease him for what he essentially said to Four. Regardless, he kept an eye on the M&M duo editing the video, occasionally warning them to not look at his clip. To not even think of listening to it.

After saving the video, Meggy exported the final video to Mario's phone. "And, I think we're done!" Task completed, Mario and her share a high-five.

Three reminded, "You better delete my clip from your messages, Squid."

"Don't worry, I got it," Meggy reassured, rolling her eyes. She shows her phone screen as proof that she has in fact double-deleted the video. 

"Yippee! Mario can't wait to see Four's reaction!" Mario cheered. When Mario sends the video to Four, a warning pops up on the screen, No signal. "Meggy?"

Meggy looks over the phone Mario shoved in her hands. "Hmm, that's strange. There should be a signal on the island, let me call Auri."

It took a couple of rings but Auri finally responded. "Meggy! I'm so sorry," Auri apologized, his voice sounding like he was about to cry.

"Auri, calm down," Meggy instructed with patience. "What happened?"

"I promised I would find your friend. But when the ship arrived, I was running late and he wasn't at the port when I got there. I tried looking everywhere, but I've lost him."

"Hey, it'll be alright. Maybe he went off on his own," she reasoned, but it was clear that she was starting to get stressed out.

"I'll call the hotel." Three pulled out his phone and dialed the number Four gave to them, putting it in speaker mode.

The receptionist answered, "Hello, this is Hotel Aurora. How can we help you?"

"Hey. Listen, we're looking for a friend who booked a room in your hotel. His name's SMG4."

A pause, the muffled sound of the keyboard typing in the background.

"Sorry, sir, but we don't have anyone under the name SMG4."

"What are you talking about?" Mario jumped in, confused. "He was the winner of that giveaway the Rizz Soda company had."

"What giveaway? We hadn't received anything from any company about that."

Meggy, Mario, and Three all looked at each other, their eyes widened at the implications. It's only been a few days, where in the world is Four?

The Showgrounds went into complete chaos. The Crew tried contracting Four with no response. They contacted the cruise that took Four over sea and according to their logs, Four never got off that ship. Meggy asked Auri for a team to search the island.

Waiting was agony. But what else could they do?

Mario apparently did, suggesting to use the tracker on Four's phone. It worked last time when Mr. Puzzles planned with Puzzlevision. After contacting the phone company and requesting Four's last location, they couldn't believe what they heard next.

Four's phone was in the Mushroom Kingdom. As if he never left.

The Crew immediately contacted everyone they knew to create a search party. Bowser, Shroomy, the military, FM & X, Wario, Waluigi, the Anti-cast, all of the Mario recolors. All of the volunteers as well as the Crew gathered outside the SMG4 Castle while Meggy stood on a stage with a megaphone.

"Alright, everyone. SMG4 could be here in the Mushroom Kingdom but the tracker couldn't pinpoint where it is! We need to split up to cover more ground. If anyone finds him, contact us and tell us where he is." Meggy scans over everyone's worried faces. She takes a stable breath, someone has to be a pillar. "Just be careful out there. We'll get SMG4 home."

The crowd scattered, each going their own way, but Meggy pulled Mario aside. "Red, I know it might be impossible but there's a place I want to check out," she explained and held up her Splattershott. "Want to be my backup?"

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

BOOM

Meggy and Mario busted in through the office door, a trail of unconscious patients on the floor behind them. Ugh, the Meme Rehab. They didn't exactly have a choice but it was better to be safe than sorry. They glared at the man who was now cowering in the corner of the room. 

Meggy goes over and picks him up by the collar. "Alright, Mr. Niceguy, where's SMG4?"

Mr. Niceguy merely stared back, confused. "SMG4? But I haven't—"

Meggy slaps him, interrupting. "Don't play dumb! Tell us where you're hiding him!"

The doctor lets out a high-pitched scream. "I swear I don't know where he is! I swear it on my mother's ashes, please don't hurt me!"

"Uh, Meggy." She turns to Mario, who's pointing out at all the containers filled with other patient's brain lobes. "Mario thinks he's telling the truth. No SMG4 lobe here."

"The red guy is right, I would've done another lobotomy on him if he came back. I swear that he didn't, though."

Meggy sighs, exasperated. "Great, another dead end. I'll let the rest know then." She lets the doctor go, to send a text to the search party's group chat. 

"He was such a great patient," Mr. Niceguy, mutters. "Well, if he wasn't so weird."

Mario and Meggy shared a confused look, then to the doctor. She asks, "What do you mean by weird?"

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Hearing a ding from his back pocket, Three saw Meggy's message of Four not being in the Meme Rehab. As much as it seemed uplifting, It only made Three's concerning suspicions grow larger. Walking down the path, he spotted something familiar. He ran and picked it up, it was Four's phone. Turning it on, he saw the dozens of abandoned calls and messages, dating all the way back to the day SMG4 supposedly left for that vacation.

Looking ahead, he saw a figure on the horizon, a dot of blue, and his blood ran cold. He begged each and every star, hoping Four wouldn't be back here. But he was. Three sent a quick text to the group, telling them that he found him and where, before he ran towards that dreaded place.

Four was standing by the edge of the Pit of Peach's Castle ruins, looking down at the demonic gateway.

Once Three managed to get closer, he slowed down his pace to a halt, afraid that one wrong move would scare Four into falling in. "SMG4?"

Four doesn't say a word but he slightly tilts his head, listening.

Three huffed in disbelief. Is Four serious right now, he asked to himself. "What, you're not gonna say anything? Where the hell have you been? Everyone has been going around like headless chickens, they thought you got kidnapped! I thought..." He stops himself, wanting to say more, but genuine worry wins within him. "What are you doing here?"

A beat. A roll of thunder rumbling overhead.

"You guys shouldn't be jumping to conclusions," Four said, his tone unusually calm. "I'm fine, SMG3. I actually had a great time during my break. It helped me with a lot of things."

Three approached him slowly as light rain started to drizzle. There was another ding from his phone but he shut it off. "C'mon, let's just get out of here."

"I've been thinking back at all the stuff I did. What I chose." Four shakes his head with sorrowful regret. "No matter what I do, everything goes wrong."

Three's arms reached out. "Four..."

Once Three's hand was hovering over Four's shoulder, Four gripped his arm. Within a blink, Three was flung into the air and slammed, the impact causing the ground to crack. Three groaned, thinking that Four might've broken his back, until Four picked him up by the throat. Three's hands immediately tried to pry himself free but Four's grip was firm. With enough strength, Three looked at Four and he felt his heart sink.

Four's eyes, they were pink.

A familiar goo enveloped his eyes, the pink plunging into the dark void. His expression was blank, before it suddenly formed new eyes. Jagged and irregular, glowing white. It wasn't Four anymore. He wasn't even human. One eye was shaped like a triangle and the other was circular. After a blink, a wicked grin crept on Four's face.

"I should've saved the USB over you," Four said, his voice becoming an eerie echo. "It would've made things a lot better, wouldn't you agree?"

Three choked, "Four... don't..."

By Three responding at all, Four frowned, his eyes cycled into different ones. "You have no idea how many hours, weeks, I sacrificed for that perfect video! And then, you had the audacity to say we're friends, you just wanted to save your own skin," Four snapped. After a second, Four took a breath, returning back to his triangular and circular set of eyes. "But that's about to change, and everything will be perfect."

Maintaining his grip, Four holds Three over the edge. "Goodbye, SMG3."

The unnatural strength gathered in his arm, Four tossed Three into the pit, and with that, time seemed to slow down. From the corner of his eye, Three could see the satisfaction beaming off of this man. It isn't Four.

But it was too late. There was nothing Three could do other than to meet his demise.

Suddenly, a force grabbed him by the side, and was pulled out of the way to solid ground with a thump. Three placed a hand over his head and sat up, to discover that the force was Mario. The red plumber looked exasperated, more of worry than anything else.

Four asked, surprised, "What?"

There was a flinch in his eye, as if it was sensing something from behind. Then, when time slowed once more, he dodged the paintball that raced towards him, missed by a hair. The paint, along with the goo covering him, was gone. Four spun around, a trail of pink light from his eyes shimmered like a comet, until he landed in a defensive stance. He moved like a glitch. As the trail faded away, he growled at his newfound threat.

The terrified Crew ran over the hill, Meggy leading them with her Splattershott. "SMG3, get away from that thing!"

She takes another shot. Effortlessly, Four manages to dodge that shot as well. He glared at Three, a silent promise that he'll be back, before escaping. A clash of thunder strikes the ground and the Crew loses sight of him. As Mario helped Three up, the Crew finally reached to them.

"SMG3, did SMG4 look different to you?" Mario asked, concerned.

"Yeah, his eyes were pink. The goo...." Three said, still stunned by what occurred. But he shakes his head,  confusion and frustration taking over. "Can someone tell me what's going on?! Why the fuck does SMG4 have that goo from the incident?"

The Crew looked at each other, unsure what to say to Three. What can they say? Meggy, mustering up the strength, took a step forward. "There's something you should know."

Recalling everything from the interrogation in the Meme Rehab, the surgeon explained that during the lobotomy, he discovered something unnatural in Four's body. It looked like goo. When he tried poking at it, the goo grew eyes and screeched. He felt like his ears were about to bleed so he quickly finished stitching Four's head up. His curiosity, however, got the better of him.

Taking a sample of Four's blood, he examined it under a microscope and observed tiny black specks plaguing the red blood cells before consuming them. Becoming one.

 "It never left," Meggy explains. "That goo has been taking over SMG4 this whole time, reacting to his emotions. He said that, at the rate that it was going, there won't be anything left of him." Her last words faded into a mutter.

Three's eyes searched Meggy's face, unable to process what she just said. "Wha...what are you saying?" He asks, Meggy responds with only visible hesitation. 

"Meggy." She refused to look at him so he grabbed her by the arms. "What are you saying?"

Meggy takes a breath, her mind trying to find a way how to put it delicately for Three. But in every way she sliced it, it just wouldn't be fair for this man. She had to tell him, the way it has to be.

"SMG4... is dead."

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

He wanted this to end. Begged for it. He wanted someone to shake him by the shoulders, to wake him up. From his nightmare, from this sick joke. This level of cruelty, he wanted it to stop.

This was no nightmare.

It has been a week since the Crew last saw "SMG4". It was best for it to stay that way, but they knew that thing would stop at nothing to take its vengeance. While the rest of the Crew was preparing the Castle for a grand meeting with the search party volunteers, Meggy was on the other SMGs. Other than the Crew, they were on an expedition and the first to receive the news. Currently rushing back to the Mushroom Kingdom from essentially dropping everything immediately.

"This storm is affecting us a lot more than what we were expecting," SMG1 reports. "But, we promise you that we are on our way. Just stay put."

"Okay then, bye." Meggy hangs up. With a shaky exhausted breath, her hands held her head. Tari, noticing Meggy's distress, walks over and brings her into a side hug.

Boopkins asks her, "Well, what now?"

"Once SMG1 and 2 are here, they can handle it."

"And do what? Use their meme powers to scare the goo away?"

Saiko exclaimed, "Bob!"

Paying no mind, Bob points at Meggy. "You said it yourself, that goo basically went full 'Venom' and took over SMG4! If he is dead, it's going to find a new host."

Boopkins says, "Bob, you're not suggesting..."

"Oh, I'm very much suggesting." Bob pulls out a rocket launcher out of thin air. "It's time to obliterate that son of a bitch."

"He's right." 

Everyone else, besides Bob, pans over to Meggy in shock. "What?"

"Now that I thought about it, SMG4 hasn't been himself ever since the incident," Meggy said. "It's more than just trauma. Sometimes he's strong out of nowhere, or how he got good aim back at WOTFI. He's been acting strange this whole time, I just couldn't see it."

The rest exchanged guilty looks, perhaps they were really to blind to notice. And Four paid the price.

"We managed to save him the first time but..." Meggy looks over to the door to Four's bedroom. "It was because Four was still in there."

Melony asks, "And, what if..."

Meggy shakes her head. "No. He's really gone. I think, to save everyone, the goo has to go. For good. That's what he would've wanted."

The room filled with silence, it was almost suffocating. Four's behavior, the debate was did they see or did they wish not to see? Either way, this was the price and they agreed that death would give mercy to Four's soul from the pain and suffering he had to endure.

Without anyone noticing, Mario slipped into Four's room, he needed to talk to him. The room was dark except for some sunlight peeking through the closed curtains. Just like outside, it was silent here. Other than Mario was Three, curled up in Four's bed, refusing to face the door. His hair was in a loose and greasy mess, and he wore a light gray hoodie. It was one of Four's.

Mario walked over to him, passing by plates of food pilling up on Four's desk. Untouched. He sat on the edge opposite where Three lay, who was unfazed of the mattress shifting by the weight.

"...SMG4 isn't dead," Mario said. A beat. He elaborates, "Mario doesn't know how, he just does. SMG3, you're his partner. You guys are cosmically linked. You must've felt it if it broke, right?"

SMG3 stayed silent in response. Mario took a breath, steadying himself on what he was about to say.

 "They're planning to go after him and..." His voice starts to quiver. "They can't kill him! I can't! I didn't ask to kill my best friend, SMG3. I... don't think I can."

Silent, once again. Mario lets out a sigh and stands up. "I just don't want to lose another friend." He leaves Three alone in the room, the soft click of the door closing behind him.

What Mario couldn't see were the silent tears that rolled down Three's face. The news of SMG4's death. The world completely changed, like someone pulled a rug from under his feet.

And nothing was the same again.

The minute they returned to the Castle, Three had beelined to Four's room. Perhaps because he was still in denial, he tidied the room up. Four was never exactly an organized person anyway. Three made his bed, dusted his shelves, and threw out the food takeout bags. He held on to that hope, that Four was gonna come in at any second and be normal again. That everything will be fine again.

That he'll be back.

Even when tears started to form in the corners of his eyes, he refused and refused and refused goddamnit. He'd known Four for years, he had been his long-time rival for meme's sake. Four was stubborn, and resilient. The sight of his determination shined brilliantly in Three's eyes, it blinded him as a rival but admired it as a friend. So, why? Why was this the thing that stopped Four?

Those thoughts spiraled in his mind as he folded up one of Four's hoodies. From its touch, Three remembered when his partner wore it, that tender smile on his face. It was always reserved for Three. One memory was all it took for Three to terms with this undeniable fact, breaking into an uncontrollable sob and burying himself in the hoodie. Back then, when he had control over the YouTube Remote, he asked to take Four's place.

This was what he asked for. And there he was, a complete mess.

After that, as the rest of the world was, he went numb. His friends came and went to check up on him. Food, condolences. They begged to say something, anything.

He didn't.

Sitting himself up, he looked down at what he clenched in his fist. It was a small USB that appeared identical to the pod Four landed in the Mushroom Kingdom with. Blue and white, fashioned in a bracelet. Ever since their pods flew away, these USB keys were left behind. During the confrontation at the Pit, Three somehow yanked it off from Four's wrist.

Being isolation, it gave him time to think and one question remained, where did this goo even come from, before the 'perfect' incident? That keyboard, it must be a lead. It doesn't matter how many precautions he had to prevent something like this from happening, he needed to find answers. He already failed Four once, this was the only way he could make it up to him.

With what Mario just told him, he was running out of time.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

"Hey, Gary. I know this is out of the blue, but I need a favor."

In the depths of the Dark Web, a light passes through the underground labyrinth. Three, a flashlight in one hand, fidgeted with the drawstring of Four's hoodie. No one must know where the realm's Archives are, much less that he was one of the Meme Guardians who had access to it.

"Is this about your cafe of yours?"

At last, he reached to a stone-bricked door, moss creeping through the cracks, and his hood was pulled off to allow himself to be scanned. With a confirming beep, the door rolled itself open and a computer covered in dust awaited for him inside. He swiped some of it off with a sleeve to find a small rectangular keyhole.

"No, not this time. I need you for a mission, you're the only one in the Dark Web I can trust."

Taking it off around his neck, Three held his black and indigo USB key, strung as a pendant. He inserted it into the keyhole and twisted it. The room suddenly awakens in light, rows of digital manilla folders circled at the ready.

After Three pressed a couple of buttons and scanned his photo, the database became a hurricane, narrowing down from millions. Only a few dozen closely matched the input he put in. He picked up each and every folder, his eyes skimming past unnecessary details until it came to one.

A folder, dated back years ago, long before he was a Guardian, perhaps held a start...

CLIENT NAME — Winston [REDACTED]

AGE — [REDACTED]

PRODUCT — Failed Lab Subject #18

He read through the shopkeeper's notes, how a man asked for a transmutation device that is compatible and adapts to biological matter. "The new evolution" was what he said. The buyer claimed that was a personal experiment on plants, Three highly doubts that it was.

From one file to another, Three chased a lead of this "subject #18" into a spiraling rabbit hole. A laboratory, unsanctioned experimentation. A weapon. All to lead to one name:

Project Horus

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

Everyone in the Castle stood around the table, a sense of mourning settling in. Who knew it would have to come to this?

"How did the goo even get to SMG4?" Tari wondered. "I thought it went down with Peach's Castle."

Luigi responds, "Someone must've brought it back, maybe the keyboard wasn't needed."

"Well, SMG1 and 2 better be here soon and fix this mess." Saiko stepped up, "Forget the kingdom, the whole world will be in danger."

"As if they were there the first time," Swag said, being reminded of the 'perfect' incident. He pulls out a grenade. "I'd say let's blow that goo to smithereens.

Then, they all started to jump in with their own suggestions, shouting over each other that their idea was better. Bowser offered his airship, Steve his buckets of lava, the military their tanks. Bob with his (illegally-obtained) weapons, Saiko her hammer.

But when the question came of who was going to be the one to finish Four, they beat around the bush.

Mario looked at all of them in disbelief, a pit forming in his stomach. It just couldn't be real. His best friend, one he had known for years, was gone. And here they were, debating how to kill the shell that was once Four.

Meggy could feel his pain and placed a hand on his shoulder. "Red, I'm..."

The doors of the Castle burst open, distracting everyone from their argument. To their surprise, "SMG3?"

Indeed it was. Three, abandoning the hoodie and loose hair, marched in with a fresh new look. He wore a purple belt holding his black overalls, and his iconic gloves inverted in color. On one arm, he wore a red and white checkered band while the other had a simple stubbed black band. Gary was close behind him with a cart full of weaponry.

"None of those are gonna work. That goo mutated from too many experiments that it's practically invincible." Three goes over to the table and leans on its surface with his knuckles.

"How would you know that?" Bob asked.

"The goo was created by a secret government experiment to explore and survive the Great Beyond," he elaborated. "Or am I wrong, Chris?"

They all turn to Chris, then back to Three. Bewildered but it was clear that they demanded an explanation.

Swag steps in defensively. "Hold up, you can't just accuse Chris of anything! Besides, there's no..." But he looked over at Chris, who was tense. "Chris?"

"I'm not accusing Chris of anything, calm down," Three says to Swag. "He might've known about the experiment but he didn't do any of that stuff himself."

Though he was reluctant, Chris sighed in defeat. He confessed, "It's true. I remember when the whole base was in total chaos when the subject managed to break out of its containment chamber. Project Horus."

"After that, it got captured and experimented on twice. A lab in the Dark Web, and Mr Puzzles," Three adds. The Crew freezes with a note of recognition in that name. He changes the subject, "We're not going to be here all day pointing fingers on who's going to be the one to kill the goo. I'll do it."

Meggy intervenes, "SMG3, I don't think..."

"I was SMG4's Meme Guardian partner. It's only fair that I'd be the one to take it down." He looked over to Mario and lowered his head apologetically.

Chris asks, "If the government couldn't even control it, what makes you think you got a chance at this? You barely made it last time."

"SMG4 was the one who gave it to us," Three replied as Gary tossed him a black and red rifle.

The Dark Web lab's weapon, dubbed "The Ultimate Virus", has a single "bullet" powerful enough not only to kill any entity, but it erase their existence entirely. This includes erasing any memory of it from everyone who interacted with said entity, in this case, the goo since it's all that remained.

Why remember the monster that killed Four?

Though, it is useless by itself, without two particular keys. Well, except if you happened to be lucky. Inserting his and Four's USB in their designated slots on each side, the rifle sparked to life. Its miniature lights glow red, ready to fire in Three's command.

Three's eyes masked with determination, vengeance. "Whoever wants to join, prepare yourselves because there will be no coming back."

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

There were a few who would know about this place. Passing from the Showgrounds and through the woods, there is a flower field on a nearby cliff, overlooking the sea. It's quite calm, the only company other than oneself was the sound of the whispering breeze and the waves kissing the rocks below. Right above, there was a spectacle of stars.

Three twirled one of the white lilies between his fingers, his cap laid next to where he sat. As expected like an old friend, the wind blew through his ponytail that was tied with a long white ribbon. A finger delicately trailed on its petals, his face in utter turmoil and loss.

"SMG3, are you sure you're up to this?"

Four was the one who brought him to this place. Three had a nightmare one time and was brought here to help with his nerves. Ever since then, this was their secret spot. At least, it used to. Now, it all belongs to Three.

"My partner is gone, Gary. If I can avenge him by killing Horus, then I won't regret anything."

The goo, "Horus" was the name the Dark Web lab gave, was the one who took SMG4 away from him. Three could put the rest of the blame onto Mr Puzzles. Or Winston, whatever his damn name is. Perhaps, in another timeline, he would've given Mr Puzzles a chance to redeem himself. Three used to be like him, after all. But to go this far, this has to end. He has to end it.

He had contacted Gary for a favor, to bring in the best of the best of his inventory for his friends to defend with. With the material strong enough to withstand Horus, they'll be fine. However, there was a doubt, lingering in the back of his mind. One he wasn't willing to show to the Crew.

"SMG4, if you're still in there somehow, show me a sign," Three said. "And I won't shoot, I promise."

He let the wind take the lily from his hand and watched until it flew far, far away. After putting on his cap that hid his ponytail, he got up and walked back into the Showgrounds. The Crew needed a leader for tomorrow, after all.

.・-: ✧ :--: ✧ :-・.

His pink eyes stared above, fascinated by the stars shining ever so brightly. You get tired of the same old red tentacles roaming around in this pit. Not that what was left of Peach's Castle helped his boredom either. But the stars, he didn't know why he was so captivated by them.

Horus supposed this was the consequence of waiting in one place.

Suddenly, he spotted some movement and narrowed his eyes, trying to make out what the object was. Though it was impossible, he thought it might've been a falling star. It didn't seem to present any threat. He curiously waited until he was able to catch it. It was a white lily. His eyes flashed blue.

"...Three?"

But he shook his head and dropped the lily, eyes returning to pink. No, he needs to focus on what's important.

The host must live.

✧-✧-✧

[ To be continued... // PART 1 // PART 3 ]

That's right, my dear fellows, this was part 2 of Concept #5 all along [*insert villain laugh here*]

[elainsgirl]

I genuinely don’t understand how some Gwynriels interpret any criticism of them as people being “threatened” by their ship. Maybe they should consider that it’s less about the ship itself and more about their behaviour. It’s that no one has ever been able to join this fandom without being immediately cornered about whether or not they’ve read "the" bonus chapter, or being subjected to some patronizing lecture about how you’re supposed to read it correctly.

It's about the exhaustion of being bombarded with the same handful of cherry-picked lines, completely removed from context. It's about the glaring double standard in how characters are treated. Azriel gets turned into something unrecognizable to serve a narrative. Both Elain and Lucien, who have been integral since the first book and are central to ongoing plotlines, are dismissed as underdeveloped, while outrage erupts if anyone dares suggest Gwyn, a new side character, might not be the next protagonist. Gwyn’s healing journey, which was so clearly focused on regaining the lively and competitive personality that was repressed by her trauma, is misrepresented as romance. It’s just… bizarre.

Some Gwynriels insist Elriel was never romantic (despite the actual text), while others say it ended definitively in a bonus chapter (despite the ridiculousness of that idea). They moralize lust and rewrite moments depending on who’s involved, and they completely ignore clearly romantic scenes if they involve characters they don't like. It creates this alternate reality version of the story that’s bizarre to witness from the outside. And people tend to want to talk about things that are bizarre.

People don’t keep bringing up Gwynriel because they’re threatened. They do it because Gwynriel has turned into a spectacle. And it is not about shipping preferences. The spectacle of Gwynriel is the insistence that actual canon narratives do not exist, and that sweeping canon-defying extrapolations are confirmations of a complete change in direction of the whole story. And that people should just accept this as true when it is just categorically bizarre.

It's not about being threatened. It's about the exhaustion of having someone down your throat for four years while they demand you respect them. It's about being suffocated to the point that you kind of just have to talk about it. In a "what the hell is going on"? kind of way. I remember mutuals who left already in 2021-22, who had been in the fandom for years, because they felt so suffocated and exhausted by this behaviour. And four years later, I'm still here and that is still going on. The fandom was not sunshine and rainbows before Gwynriels, but it was nothing at all like this.

im sorry - they think we’re “threatened” by their fanon ship? LMFAO. Threatened by what. Despite spending time in the ring with his “mate” who would Az think off every night? Elain Archeron. His mate was in danger, went through something so traumatic- what did Azriel do? Leave her with Mor to carry on with his job. Two years. He didnt visit for two entire years, he didnt check up on her. Ask about her. I could go on but you get the gist - no one is threatened by gwy/riel. There is nothing tying these two together. Az could leave training and thats it. He wouldn’t see Gwyn most of the time. Elucien at least have a bond, gwnriel dont even have that. But ofc they’d twist us critiquing them and their behaviour- not only to us but to their own eluciens as us being “threatened”.

The bonus chapter is the only thing that they think gives them some standing, it doesn’t. The same bonus that isn’t reprinted in the special editions, the bonus that over half of the fandom do not know about - but you know whats rlly embarrassing for them? Not a single part of the “gwynriel” bonus was mentioned in acosf. Not the late night training. Not the singing shadows. Not Az and Gwyn becoming closer. Not the necklace. That is how irrelevant it all was, so damn unimportant that in the 300pgs you had left after solstice - Mass didn’t bother to mention any of it once. But ofc they don’t care cause they cant think outside of “spark!” “Glow!”. They can’t enetertain any other possibility or narrative that doesn’t fit what they set for themselves. God forbid, you challenge their takes. At first they’ll try to debate but once they realise they’ve gone through their 5 repeated points, want to know what happens next?

“elriels are like sooooo mean!” “Elriels are just so so toxic.” “Elriels are bullies!” “Elriels always use canon!” Elriels are this, elriels are that.

oh and no one can say anything about precious Gwyn. Nope, she is perfect. She is exactly what they want her to be. Lucien and Elain are irrelevant, Az is toxic, incel and disgusting but ONLY towards Elain - these issues don’t exist with Gwyn, Elain is too undeveloped for a book but perfect, flawless Gwyn has the right amount of development so she will obviously be next. Lucien? He’s irrelevant too, Gwyn is linked to autumn and thats more important then Luciens messed up family. Gwyn will deal with the troves, the prison and koshei - Lucien and Elain need to sail off on a lake somewhere. Etc etc. Gwyn is currently THE most important person everyone else is just there to remain sitting little ducks until Gwyns fabulous story is over.

Gwynriels guide on how to read the bonus correctly: whilst reading the elriel part, keep on chanting “Azriel is toxic” “Azriel is disgrunting” “elain is boring” “elain is manipulative” etc then whilst you finally get to Gwyns’ part - highlight everything. Az chuckled with Gwyn, aww he has NEVER done that before - highlight it. Now.

THIS. Its the fact gwynriels cherry pick what suits them and what doesn’t. They need to”evidence” from all 3 series just to make sense…and yet their arguments are still so terribly illogical. That was one of my biggest turn offs from Gwynriel actually, them acting as tho throughout acosf, Gwyn was crushing on Az which was not the case at all and is such a disservice to her character.

Gwynriels 🤝 contradicting statements which is why it’s hard to take them seriously. Lmfao, like Elain making Az laugh so joyously means nothing to them and isn’t romantic but Gwyn making Az chuckle and snort - is the beginning of a gwynriel romance. Its hypocritical.

Say it louder anon, literally no one is threatened by a ship where the two characters dont even have any romantic interest towards each other - but gwynriel and gwynriels have become something to witness with how desperate they’ve become to convince everyone including themselves their ship is just as much as a possibility like elriel or even elucien. Its like when a kid in your class gets an answer so wrong you just have to put your pen down and wonder how tf they reached that conclusion.

gwynriels have definitely affected the fandom, im sure some are nice but majority are disrespectful, condescending, stubborn etc. They come into elriel spaces and talk about their ship and how they’re right, they’re constantly mocking elriels - Im sure the fandom wasn’t lovely before but gwynriels have turned it more hostile. I dont blame anyone that left this fandom because of them - it’s exhausting trying to see reason with people who believe a bonus holds more weight then the previous 4 books. That a new character we’ve just met is suddenly the most interesting and important then any of the OG cast - Someone said it before, but gwynriels argue with their own version of canon mixed with opinions and biased interpretations- you just can’t logically argue with that.

And if a gwynriel genuinely listened and understood how little a bonus affects the books - they’d see reason.

[prismatoxic]

okay, shipping brainrot from my last post aside, i'm still thinking about the shapeshifter arc. the other sites i use don't have inline posting or do but it's clunky, so i guess i'm theorizing here. some of this may seem obvious; bear with me, i'm not trying to be patronizing, just working through things. this will probably be long.

(edit: i've since learned there's canon explanations for all of this. regrettably i don't like them. enjoy my ideas of what would be better maybe? but keep in mind i wrote this before i knew it had been explained anywhere else.)

(edit again: i've done a 180 and come fully around on the canon explanations! i have a lot of thoughts about them but this isn't the post for that. anyway i'm disabling reblogs, sorry. you can still look at this if you want)

laios reveals what he knows of shapeshifters, and that they function on memory:

no one ever really suggests in chapters 39 or 40 who thought of which fake except in the case of which ones laios must have thought of, but i want to posit who i think each one came from, and what it means narratively if i'm right. so, mostly a thought experiment/character study that i could be wrong about or that was never meant to be clearly defined in the first place. but maybe fun to think about? (i'm sure other people have done this before too, but i think it'll be fun to write up.)

from the outset, i think it's worth mentioning that chilchuck knows all three laios fakes are, in fact, fakes. two chilchucks say this, but the one on the right is the real one. senshi and marcille immediately corroborate this, though we can't tell which of them it is except that it's not any of the really obvious fakes.

what i think this suggests is that, brought to the surface, the warped perceptions of the rest of the party that chilchuck, senshi, and marcille have can be easily discerned when compared with the real thing. each of these laioses is from one of them, but they immediately figure out none of them are right with the real laios right there in the room. this is important.

as for who's who...

i think it's fair to assume that giant laios is from chilchuck. laios is the tallest member of their party, at six feet; while chilchuck sees marcille and senshi as their correct heights, laios is a giant to him, and his bulky armor doesn't help. that's why, even if this is his perception, it's glaringly obvious that it's wrong as soon as it's made physical. it's the only big one, and easily falls into the camp of "doesn't seem to know much about monsters" that the others also do.

stupid laios is, i think, from marcille. because the giant one is so likely chilchuck's and i don't think senshi sees laios as someone who stupidly wants to eat everything (even if senshi's opinion of him isn't stellar right now, "i have to eat it" wouldn't be paired with being an idiot to senshi), it tracks that marcille would be the one to remember him this way. to someone who doesn't appreciate their monster eating and otherwise thinks he's an idiot just as much as the others do, dumbly muttering about eating things seems like a reasonable portrayal of laios.

feminine laios, then, is from senshi. i think his physical perception of the other party members is the most off-base; this is likely because he's known them for the least amount of time, and his idea of what they look like is based more on their races than anything else. i think the resemblance to falin might not be intentional--someone suggested to me the other day that the dwarf perception of tall-men is probably more feminine in contrast to how Macho dwarfs are. i think that makes sense (if it ever comes up canonically, i haven't seen it yet). laios and falin do just... look like gender-swapped versions of each other, also. so if senshi sees laios as a feminine person, well... that just winds up looking like falin.

so this leaves us with only the real laios. confronted with their perceptions of him, his friends can immediately tell all three are incorrect.

moving on, we eliminate the three most obvious fakes from the rest of the party, starting with marcille:

if we take into account what i just said about senshi, i think this is his. racial stereotypes about elves being what they are, him not knowing the party as well as the other members do... she stands out, and that's why.

now this is where things start to get interesting.

the next two fakes to be eliminated aren't so blatantly incorrect that they can be struck right out at a glance, but it's not hard to notice the flaws when you look closer, and chilchucks A and B are the ones to point it out. chilchuck is naturally observant; most of his fakes seem to emulate this. (the one who addresses the fakes is A, the real one, but B is proving himself able to pick up on the things A notices. this is important.)

notably, chilchuck and senshi assume these must be laios's versions of them.

we can assume this is correct, if we want to. we can take the framing of this as being an intentional reflection of the truth.

or... or... we can look a little deeper. we can wonder if, perhaps, this isn't a reflection of laios, but a reflection of his friends and what they think of him. laios may not immediately notice the problems, but i don't think it's because he doesn't remember these details. i don't think laios sees much of anything in vague terms; he's observant in his own right, but in ways he doesn't really recognize, nor does anyone else. i think he was so focused on their faces and mannerisms that he didn't notice the bigger picture, glossing over something because so many other factors are at play.

senshi and chilchuck think laios doesn't take notice of things, but the vast majority of the shapeshifter arc is about them and marcille not trusting laios's judgement as it is, given how things went recently. is it possible there's more to their assumptions here than what the text explicitly says? i think so!

so then who do these two belong to? marcille, i think.

if we assume dumb laios is hers, then we can also assume her perceptions of the others are kind of broad and vague. she doesn't think poorly of them, necessarily (at least not in as obvious a way as she does with laios, who, i'll remind you, she's currently upset with), but she doesn't commit unimportant details to memory, like chilchuck's neck band or the damage to senshi's helmet.

we've got three more "obvious" fakes to get through, and laios offers another lore tidbit on how the shapeshifters work:

anyway, the first of the next round is marcille again, setting the stage for how these three next fakes are eliminated.

marcille changes her hairstyle all the time, so this isn't a surprise. the last one pictured here winds up being our next fake, as indicated by her grimoire:

so the fake marcille in this section is the one with the most visibly different hair texture (who even draws attention to this), and the spellbook that's woefully incompetent. i think she's from chilchuck.

he's observant, as i said before; even if he didn't commit her hair to memory, he did remember the stuff she's said about how important hair is to magic. maybe that's why the texture is so striking. more importantly, chilchuck isn't wary of magic quite the way senshi is, but he also doesn't understand it. the general tone of the low-quality grimoire also just... sounds like the way he'd frame something like that. (plus, the "how to turn back time" bit is a thing he specifically called her on when she suggested it a few chapters ago.)

so the next fake chilchuck and senshi are revealed via their tools:

i think the chubby-cheeked chilchuck with the simple lockpicks is from senshi, and i think the ordinary-looking senshi with the simple cookware is from chilchuck. the former speaks for itself--senshi sees chilchuck as a child, and knows absolutely nothing about picking locks. as for the fake senshi, chilchuck has a decent mental image of him but knows nothing about cookware.

so now we're down to the final three fakes, and there's only one person left who they could be from: laios. nobody thinks this, not even laios himself, but i want to explore the concept because i think it has extreme merit. the three remaining fakes have some key similarities between them, namely in that they're all close enough interpretations that making a distinction is difficult. they look a tiny bit different, but both the real people and their fakes make plausible cases for why they're the actual person. i want to talk about why i think laios is the one who made that so, and what that means about him.

chapter 39 ends with all his companions--real and fake--doubting his skills. seeing a pattern?

chapter 40 opens with laios determined to regain his friends' trust in him...

...while his friends (and their fakes) talk about how he's liable to like the fakes more, because they're monsters.

this is a needlessly cruel interpretation of laios, but after how things went post-falin-rescue, it's not a surprise. they see him as reckless and single-minded, more interested in the things he's weird about than in the people around him.

laios is really bad at talking about what he's thinking--not because he's hiding it, but because it doesn't occur to him that it's important. meeting the lunatic magician in the paintings is a prime example of this, but he does it a lot. they likely have no idea why he told toshiro about falin and the black magic; to them, laios was being flippant with sensitive information, not worrying about their safety. to laios? he was trying to get help. he trusted toshiro, and his perception of their friendship made him think the information would help them gain an ally who cared about falin as much as they do. he wasn't trying to put falin or marcille in danger--far from it, in fact. but he didn't tell his friends about his thought process. he didn't think it was important to share.

(he's autistic but we all know this. moving on)

so, we have laios's plan: the pairs cook together, while he watches for behavioral differences to discern who's who. it doesn't occur to him, or anyone else, that the people he's watching for mistakes are his own perceptions of his friends. and now we get into the meat of why i wanted to write this post.

assuming i'm correct... let's talk about laios's view of his friends, and how he challenges those perceptions.

starting with my favorite, chilchuck:

chilchuck A, of course, is in fact the real one. this is a pretty significant character moment for him too, in my opinion; we know he has difficulty expressing his emotions, and that a lot of his conflicts so far have stemmed from that. the fact that "chilchuck B asked for help with a menial task" is a gotcha moment to him is... telling. not only because it's so obvious to him, but because it's not obvious to any of his companions. he thinks they know this about him, but he's never openly expressed anything to make them think this is an issue he'd have, in addition to having sought help in the past.

his "convictions and pride and all that" seems to them like someone trying to convince them of something, not someone reminding them of facts he assumes they know.

anyway, back to laios. if we accept that chilchuck B is made from his memories, this suggests several things. first of all, chilchuck B is, despite his softer eyes and willingness to ask for help, still a fairly accurate portrayal of chilchuck. he's easily annoyed and he's observant, two traits chilchuck is known for. i think the reason chilchuck B has the kinder eyes and the more gentle disposition is because to laios, those things are indicative of someone being a good person, and he very much thinks chilchuck is a good person.

we know laios isn't especially good at reading people in general. thus, his idea of who his friends are is skewed in broad strokes, but not in the ways they think. he knows who chilchuck is, but he also associates chilchuck with his own ideas of what makes someone "good", which results in a chilchuck who's less rough around the edges. confronted with this--the real chilchuck asking him if he can tell--laios compares the two and thinks, reasonably speaking, the nicer one who trusts him has to be the friend he respects so much.

senshi and marcille also want to accept this chilchuck, likely for similar reasons. they also respect and care for him; they've seen him go through a lot. laios's ideal of him is just that, ideal. in a roundabout way, it's only their deep fondness for who chilchuck really is that makes them want to see him this way.

next up, we have marcille.

the fake, marcille A, is a radical departure from what makes chilchuck B a fake. laios notes that the real marcille is exactly the same as she always is. the reason, then, that marcille A confuses him--and the others--is that after everything they've been through, their perception of her has changed radically.

if we look back to senshi and chilchuck's marcilles, it's readily apparent when they're eliminated that both interpretations hinge on the knowledge that she performs black magic. senshi's tries to use it to prove herself; chilchuck's has a grimoire loudly proclaiming it's what she does. contrast this to marcille A: she doesn't mention black magic at all, and her grimoire looks strikingly similar to the real one.

that's because laios doesn't think her performing black magic changes anything about who she is. her doing so proved her to be just as dedicated to falin as he himself is, and the knowledge that her goals involve it doesn't faze him. (additionally, marcille has been teaching him magic, and falin had tried in the past. though his image of a grimoire is flawed to someone experienced, to anyone else it looks fine.) thus, marcille A isn't a flagrant black magic wielder; she's someone who's been fundamentally changed by what they--and falin--went through.

let's go back to chapter 27:

chilchuck and senshi are appalled, and will continue to be. while they ultimately don't prevent marcille from doing this, and care enough about both her and laios (and in chilchuck's case, falin as well) to be in tentative support, this changes their view of her in a negative way. she's dangerous now, in a way she wasn't before, but she's still marcille--goofy and a little reckless. thus, their views of her, and the illusions that result.

laios's opinion of her changes for the better.

she is, all at once, both competent and loyally dedicated. she will stop at nothing to help falin. whatever goofiness she exhibited before now is gone, replaced by the cold demeanor of someone who is doing something extremely dangerous for reasons that are inherently selfish, but ultimately too important to reject.

thus, we return to marcille A: cold, sharp, dedicated. not reckless or goofy, but methodical and haunted. she may have returned to "normal" since they left the castle town, but laios's opinion of her, and understanding of her love for falin, has been forever changed.

so faced with the real marcille--still silly, still whining, still frequently annoyed with him--he's confused, because that's deeply familiar, but it doesn't line up with what he knows about her now.

the truth, of course, is nuanced--these things are true about marcille, but only under duress; it's similar to how laios becomes a competent leader when the going gets tough. she has this within her, but it's not her default state of being. still, the shapeshifter picks up on the strongest memories laios has of her, this new interpretation of someone he thought he knew.

now then--onto senshi, the punchline of this particular joke about the differences between the copies. i still think it says a lot.

i think this one speaks for itself, though i find chilchuck's agreement interesting. senshi is the newest member of the team; little is known about him. laios happily notes that senshi "always looks cool" while chilchuck says he looks normal (and chilchuck B insults the real one). laios sees senshi this way because he thinks senshi is cool as hell, and this manifests in an idealized version of a face he's not as familiar with as he is with chilchuck and marcille.

this is clearly comedy, but it also speaks to the same desire to see the best in the rest of the party. marcille is the only one who notices likely because her opinion of senshi isn't so romanticized. chilchuck's senshi, of note, wasn't a perfect replica: we don't see much of him after the obvious fakes are hauled off, but he's a little squashed (he's the top one):

which indicates that chilchuck's visual memory of senshi is already flawed. if we compare this to giant laios and the marcille with the unique hair texture, it tells us chilchuck's attention to detail is more specific than the others'; he can remember the hole in the helmet, the importance of hair, but he doesn't quite see the bigger picture. giant laios is also surprisingly... rugged? which i imagine has to do with chilchuck's perception of him as a tall-man. (or maybe how he clearly has trouble seeing laios's face half the time, lmao...)

anyway. laios thinks senshi is super cool and chilchuck has an imperfect idea of what senshi look like as it is. (i wonder if chilchuck is some degree of faceblind? not enough to not recognize someone at all, but can't pinpoint specifics.)

and so, we arrive at the moment of truth.

so let's go over what i'm theorizing here... all the remaining fakes are illusions based on how laios sees his friends. the illusions manage to make mistakes that reveal the truth to him, but i think the reason for that harkens back to what laios said earlier... the illusions are being updated over time.

laios isn't considering any of the things that give the fakes away until this moment. if it had taken a little longer to resolve things, maybe they'd have started course-correcting, but they aren't given the chance. laios makes sure they aren't--he acts very quickly. even as he presents the three pairs with his findings, he's aware that everything will fall apart as soon as he does... and he's banking on that. while the shapeshifter illusions defend themselves from being killed, he gets right to the heart of the matter in the only way he knows how: confronting the actual monster involved.

when all's said and done, laios reveals how he figured it out:

potentially of note, all of these details happened before the red dragon fight. chilchuck fighting a mimic and revealing his history with them, senshi gushing about the dungeon's ecosystem, and marcille being attacked by the undine weren't super recent memories. when laios brought them forth in his mind, he had a delay before the shapeshifter updated its illusions.

well... except with marcille. marcille A actually didn't show her hand so easily; it was the real marcille's carelessness that proved her identity.

but what this suggests is that, when confronted with the realities of marcille versus his idealized version of her, laios had to make a choice: did it make more sense for her to have been radically changed by the revival and subsequent loss of falin, or was the presence of a marcille he knew so well proof of an illusion? she was the one who was the most different, and as such, the contrast was the same one that eliminated all three laioses at the start: with the real thing in the room, the fake became apparent.

so, to reach a conclusion: one again, laios has proven he's not as scatterbrained as his companions think, but this time he did so on a more personal level than usual. to them, he reveals that he knows their quirks enough to define them by such when they're otherwise faced with convincing copies. to us, the readers, if we accept what i've suggested here... he's revealed a lot more. he respects, admires, and idolizes his friends, all out of fondness: he wants to see them in an ideal way, whatever that means for each of them as individuals.

anyway thanks for coming to my TED talk

[sgiandubh]

Last minute Swifties

Contrary to what many thought and some posted, I do think the OL cast's Taylor Swift experience was a last minute promo idea, very much monitored by *** and Tall Ships. I was wrong about minder/security guy (still, eerie...) and I never have a problem publicly admitting it. But quite unlikely I am wrong about this one. And sorry for the length, but you know how I am when I am looking for something, right?

Let's unpack: cast thanked the 'organizers' (and minders, really) in very specific terms, leaving NO much doubt:

Louisa McCulloch. Remember this name, we shall meet her in one hot minute. So thank you Louisa and Maril for organizing this: ask yourselves why did Maril, who (as far as I know) is based in the US, have to come to Edinburgh just for the gig. Damage control, perhaps?

And Sophie S., with a remarkable choice of words:

'Thank you ***, TS and her team for making it happen'. In my book, this means a strong, common effort to secure the box last minute. Because 'making it happen' means exactly that: 'need to do everything you can to facilitate it'.

Clearly Skelton, who is a Swiftie in her own right, was particularly appreciative of the efforts it took to ensure everyone could attend the concert. If that were a long planned event, her enthusiasm would have been more temperate, I think. 'Adding more Swifties to the clan' - LOL, Sophie, you mean S and C had no idea of the lyrics and were unable to sing along with you, John Bell, Izzy and Co (I keep forgetting their names and I like them a lot, in the show)? People of my generation are already too damn old for Taylor S. And this different sort of music might be more of S's real preference: otherwise why post it in his stories, as if to say ' TS is a different thing altogether'?

James. A Manchester rock band, formed in 1982, popular in the Nineties. I see no lies: he was clear 'JAMMF is a Swiftie'. And we are, after all, Children of the Nineties, not TS's crowd. And yes, I knew S was into the same kind of music as I was, in the Nineties (he seems to have stayed put, right there, unlike me, LOL):

Anyways, back to the mysterious woman up and front on three pictures in a row, that got many speculating. Nope, that was not Wendy, the MUA and S's bestie:

Once...

... Twice...

... Three times a lady:

Her name is Louisa McCulloch, née Radcliffe and she is the one S thanked, along with Maril (see above). It was a bit hard finding her, because her IG account is private. But I found her alright on Facebook, and then LinkedIn (of course):

Based in Lockerbie, Scotland. 20 years experience as a media publicist:

Worked with *** and Tall Ships since Season 3, after a short stint as Head of Publicity at the Paramount Pictures London Office. Got promoted from Unit Publicist to Publicist during COVID, for Season 6. So yes, she is the one who made it happen, locally, on what I think was a quite short notice.

Attention successfully diverted. Impeccable timing and giving a younger crowd what it wants. Trying to capitalize on TS's huge Instagram fan base: 283 million followers (wow! I had no fucking idea she was so huge). A win-win situation for just about everyone and an elegant way out from sordid waters:

And it worked. Lost among the hundred of thousands of likes and comments, look who's jumping on the bandwagon:

Sharon Stone. With a Blue Check and her 3.9 million Instagram fanbase. A Nineties deity, need I remind you (this blogger spotted her during the Berlinale 2007, while I was going out for drinks, blissfully unaware we were all staying at The Adlon, LOL)?

They mutually follow each other on Insta, by the way. I wonder why *urv did not pounce on that one. I feel robbed, for once, of a wonderful fanfic.

[Later edit] Several comments take on this person without a proper justification. I am editing this post to remind you she is only responsible for the implementation (in Scotland) of decisions taken elsewhere (in the United States of America). She is NOT a decision maker and as Publicist, was probably responsible for the local implementation of a hasty decision to attend an event (secure VIP box at Murrayfield, sell content to the local press). The direct contact with TS's team was, very likely, Maril and upwards, in the hierarchy. In all fairness, she has nothing to do with a billboard spotted in Los Angeles, USA - nothing of the sort in Europe. I am all for taxing, but let's tax people who are really RESPONSIBLE: she is just a very well paid underling. Thank you all, I am sure you understand fairness can only add to our credibility as a group.

[pumpkinpatchmaniac]

ARCANE SEASON 2 ARC 3 SPOILERS‼️‼️

I noticed this while watching episode 7: “Pretend like its the first time”, not that small of a detail but:

(I’m sorry if it is incoherent i just really needed to get this out.)

During the innovative party scene where Ekko dances with Powder, the song that plays is ”ma meilleure ennemie” by Stromae & Pomme, which translates to ”my best (female) enemy” which clearly refers to Powder, or Jinx.

In the intro begins a small chant where they say

Je t’aime, je t’attends […]

Meaning “ i love you, i am waiting for you” which clearly explains Ekko before coming to terms that Jinx no longer is Powder, since he fell inlove with Powder he keeps waiting for Powder to come back. This mental dilemma of having to accept that even if its the same body, same face its not the same person anymore, which is later supported by the first chorus where Stromae sings

La pire des bénédiction, La plus belle des malédictions

“The worse of all blessings, the best of all curses”, Powder was the best thing that happened to him while Jinx was the worse thing which makes this relationship with her- this connection, both a blessing and a curse.

But what made the scene more interesting was when they danced and the part

Mais ma meilleure ennemie, c'est toi [but my best enemy, that is you.]

Fuis-moi, le pire, c'est toi et moi [flee from me, the worse is you and i]

Mais si tu cherches encore ma voix [but if you keep searching for my voice]

Oublie-moi, le pire, c'est toi et moi [forget me, the worse is you and i]

I know we all wanted Ekko to stay in that timeline and be happy with Powder but remember season 1 where- whilst every Jinx or Vi centric episodes always began with a flashback, the Ekko centric one started from the present. Indicating that Ekko forces himself to always look forward than trying to let the past get to him. For exempel in - please correct me if i’m wrong, season 1 episode 5 when Vi said that she should’ve been there to help Ekko, he only says ”that’s is a good way to drive yourself crazy”. He immidiantly shut down any thought of what could’ve been, indirectly forcing Vi to think about the present. Especially afterwards when Vi talks about getting Powder back when Ekko has already fully acknowledge that there is only Jinx. All of this makes him being in that timeline more difficult for him since it is exactly what he wanted to avoid, being stuck in what could’ve been.

Dancing with Powder just engraves this furthee into him, this is unhealthy for Ekko since it’s the relation ship between him and Jinx. As to reiterate ”if you keep searching for Powder’s, voice, stop, it will just drive you crazy”

Also to refer to the pre-chorus!

First one:

Tu sais c'qu'on dit [you know what they say]

Sois près d'tes amis les plus chers [stay close to your dearest friends]

Mais aussi [but even]

Encore plus près d'tes adversaires [even closer to your adversaries (i.e antagonists, villains)

And the second one

Je t'avais dit : "Ne regarde pas en arrière" [i have told you : “dont look back]

Le passé qui te suit te fait la guerre [the past will follow you and take you to war]

(This is pretty self explanatory)

Additionally, before the kiss scene where Ekko says “can we pretend like it’s the first the first time”, further insinuates the whole, “this is my present even thought it’s a part of your past”.

TL:DR

This scene hurts

(Authors note:

I know it is not a small detail and not that significant but i really wanna acknowledge how every part of the Arcane series have a significance into the story. And honestly i needed to vent. It was so fun last night watching the scene and hearing ”le pire, c’est toi et moi” and just go ”oh, word?”. I am not French but i studied it so it just felt good from that POV too.

Edit: i was not aware that Arcane gets critizied over how litteral the songs are to the scene but i still stand by my point about why i really liked the song and this scene specifically)

[something-tofightfor]

Birthday Kiss #8: Din Djarin

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader

Word Count: 1,018

Rating: T?

Summary: A Kiss in Private

Author’s note: 9 Pedro Characters. 9 Birthday Smooches. These are very lightly edited because they're supposed to be quick. Wanted to give all of you a gift to celebrate my birthday - here's Din.

I don't know if anyone even still cares about this pairing, but ... if you remember Magnetic, this one's for you.

You liked being on Mandalore, because it allowed you to learn more about Din and his people. 

On Mandalore, you had no real responsibilities outside of helping to look after Grogu and doing what was necessary to keep the facility operating smoothly. It allowed you to hang back and observe, using your ability to get a read on the others around you, though many of them were covered head to toe in armor at all times. 

Thanks to your time spent at the Academy with the Younglings, you didn’t mind when the Mandalorian children gravitated toward you because they wanted to be near Grogu. And since Din’s responsibilities kept him busy for much of the day every day, having something to do on your own was a relief for the hours you were apart. 

But that didn’t mean that you were content to stay inside the compound. 

You missed the thrill of being in hyperspace. You missed not knowing what the next day would bring. You missed interacting with people while you helped Din. But most of all, you missed Din, and the man you’d gotten to know during the months you spent with him before returning to Mandalore. 

Things on Mandalore were no different than he’d warned you they would be, but you still hoped that after more time had passed, it would change. You hadn’t left the planet since you’d gone back to the Academy to get the rest of your belongings, and that short trip had been the last time you were truly alone with Din and Grogu - and it was tough to handle.

On your way back from one of the training rooms, Koska stopped you in the hallway, calling your name just before you rounded the corner. “I’m supposed to tell you that the Mand’alor is looking for you.” 

“He is?” Taking a breath and hoping your expression didn’t give anything away, you crossed your arms over your chest, staring at her. “Where is he?” 

“He’s with the kid by his ship. He said to get the bag from their quarters and then go meet him there.” 

“What is -” “I have no idea.” She shrugged. “Sorry.” 

It only took you a few minutes to do as she’d asked, unlocking Din’s door and hefting the bag on his bed over one shoulder before you headed to the docking bay, nodding at a few people as you passed. 

You tried not to get your hopes up - after all, he hadn’t told you to pack, and he hadn’t said a word about going anywhere that morning when he’d said goodbye. 

But the ramp on the Razor II was down when you got there, the interior lights glowing in the fading daylight… and you knew that that wouldn’t have been the case if he wasn’t planning on leaving. 

“Mando?” You called out for him as you got closer, searching for any sign of him near the ship. “Are you here?” 

You caught a brief flash of Grogu’s thoughts, but it was mostly excitement and nothing more, which disheartened you further, because if Grogu was excited, then there was a reason. 

And when you entered the cargo bay, you saw neatly stacked crates of supplies along one wall, along with a small bag - most likely Grogu’s - already sitting on the cot. You frowned at that, realizing that it meant Grogu was likely going with him. 

Instead of dwelling on that, though, you secured the bag over your shoulder and climbed up to the top level of the ship, since it was the only other place he could have been. 

You saw Grogu immediately, the kid sitting in the second cockpit chair and raising one clawed hand to wave at you. Before you could speak again, though, he turned away and you heard the sound of the ramp closing, the whirr of it vibrating the ship’s frame gently. Surprise.  “Grogu? What -”

“We’re leaving.” You sucked in a breath at the sound of his unmodulated voice, and when you turned to see Din standing in the doorway of the sleeping quarters, beskar-covered arms crossed over his chest, your jaw dropped. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“Where are we going?” It didn’t really matter, so as you spoke you stepped toward him, shock turning into relief. “And how long are -”

“A few weeks.” His smile widened the second your palm made contact with his armored chest, Din using both arms to pull you flush against him. “And we’re going to visit some friends.” 

You didn’t know who he meant, but that didn’t matter, either. Instead of asking more questions, you used your free hand to pull his face toward yours, your fingers loosely gripping the strands of hair at the nape of his neck. It was unnecessary, but you whispered two words - thank you - against his lips before you kissed him, mindful of the fact that Grogu was only a few feet away. His presence meant that you couldn’t get too carried away, so when you broke apart from Din seconds later you smiled, nodding twice. “I thought you were going without me.” 

He raised an eyebrow and shook his head slowly, staring at you. “Never. Especially not so close to your birthday.” 

“How -”

“Checked your chain code. The Mand’alor can never be too careful about who he’s spending time with” He leaned in again, the man’s mouth meeting yours again briefly. “Now go take those controls. They’re yours today. I already programmed coordinates for you.” 

With a delighted laugh, you turned away from him, but before you got too far, Din’s hands were on your hips, the man following you through the small room, though he hung back when you sat down next to Grogu. “Alright, kid.” Tilting your head down to look at him once your hands were in place on the yoke, your smile grew. “You ready?” 

You knew he was - you could feel it, along with Din’s excitement, emotions pulsing through the small space as the three of you prepped to take off. It was only a  few weeks - but it was a good place to start.

—  

[hey-august]

Hi hii

Do you also write angst?

If so...I'm genuinely curious on what's your take if Buggy's partner was severely injured and in the verge of death in his arms.

Don't mind me,,just craving a freshly baked Buggy angst 🤡

-soupsprout

Ahhhh, sorry this took a bit!

I love angst, but I've only ever written relationship-angst. Like poor communication skills or intense self-loathing.

This was a fun one to try! Fun and painful! I kinda hurt now! 🥲 I hope it hits the spot for you, @soupsprout

The ending is ambiguous and there isn't comfort because I like the pain, but I have an idea for an uplifting ending and one for a painful ending. LMK if you're interested in hearing about either 😉

Edit: Sad ending here

WC: ~900 Warnings: NSFW - grievous injury & blood, Buggy x GN!reader, established relationship, angst no comfort

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

This wasn’t supposed to happen. Injuries are inevitable during a fight, and this was a fucking ambush. The crew was bound to collect new wounds and scars when they started at a disadvantage. But when shit hits the fan, they’re relentless. This time, that was a bad fucking trait.

As the din diminished and the ship drifted into eerie post-battle quiet, Buggy found you sitting against a wall. The crewmates you fought alongside were also in various states of reprieve. Leaning on crates, crouching on the ground, some even laying down as they caught their breaths. But none of them were sitting in a growing puddle of blood. None of them looked as ashen as you did. The sticky red hand squeezing your leg told the story.

Ripping his bandana off his head, Buggy sprinted over to you and kneeled on the dirty ground. He peeled your hand back, exposing the gash. This was real bad. The placement was bad. The depth was bad. He could see the surge of blood come and go, following your heartbeats. Biting the hem of his bandana, Buggy tore it into strips and wound them just above the wound. Tight but not too tight - he remembered that much.

You winced as he tied a knot and tried to push his hands away. Adrenaline dulled the pain from the original wound, but all this extra shit was too much.

“Stop,” you whined, smearing blood from your hand to his wrist. 

“Hey, hey, I’m sorry. Just a little more, okay?”

“Don’t, Buggy…it hurts enough, just leave it.” 

“Fuck, no! Listen, we need to stop the bleeding. I have to…” 

Buggy didn’t know how to tell you that he needed to pack the wound and it was not going to be pleasant. It had been years since he had to dress a wound like this. He didn’t have to do this for himself since eating the goddamn Devil Fruit and his crew had a doctor to tend to the others. Right, a doctor!

Dragging the closest crew member over by the collar of their shirt, Buggy started shouting, “YOU! Go get the doctor, get a medic, fuck - just go get someone! Get fucking Mohji!”

The pirate scrambled to their feet and yanked another mate up to join him in a search for help.

“Mohji?” you repeated with a soft laugh.

“He can help. He takes care of Richie, maybe he knows-”

“I’m not a lion, Buggy. It’s not the same.” 

Your over-dramatic condescending tone could have fooled the pirate into believing you were okay if your voice didn’t shake. If you weren’t talking more with your eyes shut than open. If you hadn’t lost enough blood that it was seeping into the knees of his pants.

“I dunno, you’re as annoying as Richie.” 

You smiled but didn’t respond. 

Buggy glanced around the room, which was nearly empty. The only ones left were the ambushers who didn’t survive and anyone who couldn’t run through the ship. No one had come back with any fucking help, though. 

“Hey, keep your eyes open,” Buggy said, squeezing your cheeks. 

You did what he asked, but it took a few tries. Your eyes fluttered shut more than once before you succeeded in keeping them open.

“M’tired, Buggy,” you said in a low voice. A sad voice. A scared voice.

“You can sleep later. I’ll even let you sleep on my side of the bed, okay? Just stay awake for now. Captain’s orders!”

Another smile, softer than the last one. Even Buggy could hear the desperation cracking in his throat.

“I have to do one more thing to stop the bleeding, alright? It’ll hurt and then you’ll feel better. Take a deep breath for me, okay? You can do that?”

You nodded and inhaled. It was slow and stuttering as you tried to take in as much air as you could. Buggy waited until you were too focused on breathing before jamming a wad of torn fabric into the leaking wound. He winced as you let out a loud groan and your whole body stiffened in pain.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m so sorry. I’m all done. You did so good.” 

Buggy rushed to comfort you, pressing kisses to your forehead and wiping away the tears falling from your eyes with the back of his hands. Blood didn’t make him nauseous, but the sight of his palms stained red with yours did. Nauseous and nervous.

Your eyes were closed again. He asked you to open them. He asked again. They cracked open just a little. Enough to make him feel better and feel worse.

“Hey, what do you call a lion at the South Pole?”

“What?” Your head tilted and your brows tightened. You were thinking.

Buggy watched your lips move slowly as you repeated his question.

You opened your eyes a little wider and looked at him with as much confusion as you could muster. You shook your head slightly. 

“Oh, you don’t know?” he teased with a big grin. A fake smile to keep you distracted. “Keep thinking about it. If you just can’t figure it out, I’ll tell you when you get better. Alright?”

You mouthed an affirmative response, but didn’t make a sound.

“So it’s a deal? You’ll get better and then I’ll tell you the answer. You gotta get better, though, okay?” 

Buggy grabbed your hands, hoping you couldn’t feel how he was shaking. He wished he couldn’t feel how cold you were.

You nodded and closed your eyes to think.