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morgana-artt · 6 months

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P x Artist!Male!Reader

Notes: Gets a bit sad and real as reader feels like he has no future with P/ has a fear of what people will think (it is in a victoria-esq timeline afterall)/ lore spoilers

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Ah, Krat. A place once full of life now tilts on the brink of emptiness apart from the walking puppets that had turned against humanity due to what was called the puppet frenzy and yet here you were worrying over the pretty puppet boy in front of you. What were you worrying about? Oh, just the fact you had the biggest crush on him and one would ask, what was there to worry about? Because you were also a boy and not everyone took kindly too that sort of thing- you knew from expeirences. Small relationships in private only to find out your ex-lovers went to move on to have public relationships with women or straight up not taking notice of you anymore, almost ashamed of you even.

You remember the only two people that were okay with your interests were two boys when you were younger, the two boys that befriended you in the Monad Charity House- Romeo and Carlo was their names.

They were fun to be around and accepted you without a word, you and Romeo even had to stop Carlo from punching a few other kids who would pick on you. They were your best friends and it devestated you when they both passed from the disease and yet...the puppet that was in front of you had a striking resemblance to Carlo- who was a crush of yours but you didn't decide to pursue in fear he'd not want to be your friend anymore. Although with a few differences from his freckles and blue eyes, it made your heart flutter as if you had rejoined with an old friend/crush and it made you weak to your knees.

The puppet had saved you from a bunch of other puppets that were ready to kick your behind into the grave and he then had taken you to Hotel Krat where you met the others that were staying there- including the actual owner: Antonia Cerasani, a remarkable woman. You had usually stayed in one of the rooms, painting away all day or even just sketching. The puppet- called P- would come in and ask to watch you and despite you working for hours he never once complained, even placing his head on your shoulder to watch which did NOT help with your interest in him.

The more he spent time with you whether that be watching you paint, read or play piano (he mostly did the playing, you were terrible at it), you got more closer with each other. You really enjoyed his company and suspected he liked yours too because Gemini would not shut up about how P would be looking forward to your paintings which of course made you blush but he was just being friendly right? Yeah, of course.

There would be nights where you would have nightmares, personal ones at that and some even upsetting you so much P would notice your stifle cries and would offer to sit by you until you could go back to sleep. He would also stroke your hair as he read up on comforting someone in a few books he picked up, your heart would race as you held onto his loose shirt he'd wear on nights. You got closer and closer as the days passed but you couldn't help but feel bad...P would read stories with you and it was the usual prince and princess get married or some other story that involved a man and a woman being together. Even though the idea hurt, you hoped P would find a nice girl to get together with he deserved someone for him, he really was a sweetheart.

There were times you painted pretty...risqué paintings or sketches and P caught a peak a few times and snuck into your room to watch you- afterall, you let him watch you with other paintings, why was this any different? Once you spotted him you had jumped out of your skin and would cover the drawings making P tilted his head, "why are hiding them?" he would ask making you fluster up, "I-it's nothing! P-Please leave!" was all you could say making P jump up and leave. He was confused as to why you suddenly didn't want him in the same room but he respected you, still...he was curious about those paintings.

After that, it took you a few hours to peak out your room until you got face to face with P making you stutter, "i-ignore what you saw o-okay?" he simply nodded. However, as he grew more human he became...more sneakier. He saw that you were asleep on the sofa, he thought you were very pretty even for a guy. In fact, he felt a warm feeling within his chest whenever he saw you. You always made his day better after coming back from a horrible time outside.

He decided to use his courage to sneak into your room, now he did feel bad doing this but even Gemini was curious to what you were hiding (P would just blame it on Gemini being a bad influence). Once entering, he shut the door quietly and walked to your desk before moving papers around and that's when he saw the sketches you were making. Most of these were of two men doing niche things like walking or sitting with each other but then he turned the papers over and saw what seemed like drawings that belonged in fairytales. Your sketches were that of soft pastel of two men smiling, kissing, holding hands or even laying together and it made P feel warm in his chest again. Gemini spoke up, "was this what (Y/n) was hiding? I don't see anything wrong with these?" he questioned but P wasn't taking notice, he was picturing him and you doing these things. The idea of him holding your hand and walking in the garden made him...happy? He liked feeling happy. His eyes then moved to the kissing sketch, he pressed his human finger tips against his lips and pictured what kissing you was like which made him feel light and happy again.

"Gemini...?" his quiet voice spoke up, "Hm?" gemini hummed in response, "I see these things in those fairytale books I read...could I do that with him?" he asked, feeling shy. "Well...I don't see why not! Why? Do you like (Y/n)?" Gemini sang making P turn his head in embarssement before nodding slightly making Gemini snort, "Sure pal, you can do that with him but these things are what couples usually do. So maybe see if he likes you back?", "how?" Gemini was silent for a bit before speaking, "hmm...why not ask him out to the garden to sit in? Then try to take his hand? Subtly though, Pal and if he becomes uncomfortable you respect that okay, buddy? But I doubt you'd have anything to worry about, I think the feelings are mutual" P nodded before placing things back to where they were and making his way towards you.

He saw you wake up and sit up on the sofa, "(Y/N)?", "hm? Oh, P? how are you?", he sat next to you. "Do you want...to sit in the garden? With me...?" he asked, his voice getting shyer near the end. You blinked, "oh? Sure!" you smiled as the two of you got up and headed to the garden, despite the hell happening outside it was gorgeous within the yard. Different types of flowers were surrounding you making you smile, you plucked one and handed it to P who took it and gave a small smile making your heart beat. "Thanks for asking me to come out...guess I needed the air..." you smiled as you sat on the bench with P joining you. He glanced at your hand before looking at your face, you were very handsome to him. He loved the way your eyelashes fluttered whenever you blinked, the way your hair fell on your face and when you tucked some behind your ear allowing him too see more of your beauty and then when you smiled up at him it made him feel that warm feeling again.

"I..." he started before trailing off, his eyebrows furrowing and looking down. You frowned and tilted your head, "everything okay, buddy?" you asked until in one quick swoop he hugged you close making you yelp.

"P-P?!" you blinked as you wrapped your arms around him, "seriously...is everything okay?" you were worried about him, he pulled back as he looked in your eyes. "can I hold your hand?" he asked with a deep breath of confidence, you almost choked on your spit. "h-huh?! Oh, um..." you wanted to, by god you wanted to but the fear of rejection overpowered your feelings at that moment.

You stood up as P did the same thing as he looked at you worringly "did...did I say something wrong? I'm sorry..." you felt a sudden hurt through your chest, oh no...you made him feel like he did something bad. "Oh, P no...it wasn't you. Its... me. I-I..." you felt the sudden anxiety kick in, tears welling up in your eyes as you bit your bottom lip. "P, you're amazing...there's nothing more I would love to do than to hold your hand but...I mean... we're both guys. Is that not...weird to you?" you asked, fiddling with your sleeve. P tilted his head in confusion, "why would it be? I like you and want to hold your hand...even kiss you" he admitted and that made your face go red, "Ee-egh?! T-that's...", P interrupted you, "wouldn't people feel more weirded out that one of us isn't human and the other is?" You frowned, "Oh, P...on one hand you're right and on the other... some people don't...have fond feelings on seeing two people of the same sex showing romantic love" P frowned, "why? Thats stupid..." you couldn't help but smile a little- he really looked like Carlo just now and even sounded like him.

"It's just how it is..." you whispered, wiping the tears that threaten to fall from your eyes. P looked up at you before moving closer and hugging you tightly, "are you...scared?" he whispered into your ear, "a little...it sounds stupid as we have bigger problems but it's still a fear of mine..." you confessed making P hum in response. "I won't let anything happy to you..that's a promise", you looked up at him and saw how serious he really was. "Hey!" the little cricket lamp chirped up, you forgot he was even there, "if anyone does gives you hassle we'll make sure that they won't ever mess with you again!" the cricket chirped once agian making you smile. "Thanks, Gemini..."

P was silent as he stared at you, "will...will it be okay to kiss you?" you snapped your head him face going red again, "P..." you looked around before pulling him closer into the hedge as to not be seen. "Sorry, I just...I don't want anyone else to see...not yet anyway..." you softly spoke and P nodded as he understood your anxiety and held you close before leaning in, you let out a shaky breath before pulling him in suddenly and kissing him as if you waited for this your whole life. You heard the puppet gasp a little before deepening the kiss, gripping his coat closer to you as you closed your eyes. His lips were soft, it was nice. Part of you did wish it was Carlo and yet...you're glad it was P.

Despite looking similar, you loved P as himself and you knew you had to move on from Carlo sometime sooner or later. Little did you know, something in P stirred within him; rememberance.

It began to rain making you and P look up before looking at each other and laughing as you then walked back inside as to not get soaked, P quickly gave you a kiss on the cheek making you blush. a voice spoke up, "hello you two! Glad to see the two love birds finally got together! Hah hah, oh to be in love again", the voice belonged to Venigni, his comment made you fluster as you quickly excused yourself and fast walked to the library making P watch you with a smile. He felt a pat on his shoulder, "well done, lad. Now just because he's a man like yourself doesn't mean you shouldn't stop being a gentleman- you see one needs to-" P waved his hands and shook his head, trying to excuse himself from hearing another one of Venignis rambles agian. Eugenie quietly giggled at the scene as Spring just purred agianst her arm.

Finally being free from Venigni's clutches, P made his way to you and looked around to see it was just you and hugged you from behind making you jump, "s-sorry...still getting used to this..." you softly chuckled, placing a hand on his that was around your waist.

You felt him cuddle closer to you and place his head into your neck, you let out a soft sigh before leaning against him the two of you comfortable silence. Maybe this wasn't so bad.

#lies of p #lies of p x reader #lies of p imagines #not exactly happy at the end of this fic but whatev #still hope it was enjoyable #lop reader requests still open if anyone wants to send anything

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doodleimprovement · 2 years

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Apologies if nothing goes up tonight like I wanted - I’m having what can charitably be called a “bad time”

#antonia speaks #shut up antonia #we love feeling trapped in our own home woohoo

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sweetlywistful · 5 months

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be still my beating heart (gen fic)

I wound up getting blindsided by how much I loved this game, so here, have a 9.7k word condensed re-telling of the game. it's basically all the stuff I imagined going through P's head while I was playing on the true ending/max humanity path. also pls note that P and Carlo share a single identity here instead of them being two separate people!

Summary:

As Sophia placed her hand on his chest, he thought, Can you feel it? I have a heart that’s beating right now. It feels and pulses and hurts just like yours. I have a heart. I’m almost as human as you are. -OR- As a boy-puppet learns to live and breathe, this is what he will come to discover: humanity is what we make of it. The world begins and ends by what we grasp, even if it’s by the skin of our teeth.

Read on ao3

Waking up for the first time was something he had no name for. There was a flutter, sensation stretching across his limbs, and the voice that came like a beacon in the night.

It gave him a direction, and so he went. He walked. Attacked what attacked him, ‘reset’ at the nearest stargazer whenever he fell to a blow, then repeated the cycle until he stood before double doors and the voice was telling him to lie.

Lying was simple. The word “human” spilled easily out of his mouth. What was not so simple was the strange stir that skittered across his springs. Occasionally, his arm or an internal mechanism would twitch, but it was nothing so subtle, or fluttery. This sensation was different.

It felt, vaguely, like waking up.

There was blood on his hand. Blood, not oil. Blood. It was transfixing, the way it clung to his glove and glistened under the light of the streetlamp. It had gushed out of the man so easily, skin and bone so much softer than cold steel.

He thought there might have been a dull roar in his ears. He thought he might have heard the word son.

He looked up and met eyes with the man who would call him exactly that. There was a fondness when Geppetto addressed him that he couldn’t even hope to reciprocate. He was a puppet, after all. How could a puppet express such emotion?

The exchange—or lack thereof—gave him another strange feeling. This one reminded him of trying and failing to open a gate that only opened on the other side. It…wasn’t pleasant.

It clung to him like ichor, which was why it seemed so wrong to tell the woman that her baby was a puppet. He complimented it instead, another easy lie that somehow quivered his springs. She gave him a record for his effort. When he listened to it later, he felt it in his springs again. He decided the sensation couldn’t be a bad thing.

After all, it came about after helping that woman, who would now get to spend her last days clinging to what she wanted most. She wouldn’t die wishing for everything she couldn’t have. She wouldn’t lay broken and bloody on a cobblestone street under the canopy of a bleak, uncaring night sky.

That was good, he decided.

III & IV

Venigni was…interesting. His ‘r’s rolled like the put-put of a motor, only more quickly, and the way he described his own intellect was confident and proud. Venigni had thrown himself into the thick of danger to help everyone by shutting down the factory. He was worried for someone—the puppet, Pulcinella—and wouldn’t leave until they were reunited.

Venigni cared. Venigni was kind. He supposed that was what was missing when the same pride was reflected in Alidoro, the Hound. Alidoro called himself a noble savior, but somehow, it didn’t feel like there was any substance behind the claim. Alidoro wasn’t using his talents to help anyone, like Eugénie and her tinkering with his weapons to make them stronger, or Antonia’s hospitality. The man wasn’t risking himself for others like Venigni in the factory. Alidoro the savior was hiding on the roof while Giangio and Sister Cecile were in the cathedral, terrified and alone.

So, when Alidoro asked him if he knew of anywhere safe to go, he didn’t direct him to the hotel. The lie felt deeper, somehow, down to the very Ergo that powered his joints. Even when he went to check on Alidoro later at Venigni’s workshop, upon giving the man another lie, his Ergo still stirred, like a whisper against an ear.

Sophia told him that lying would make him more human. That felt right. More than right, actually. Like it was already true. Something in him was already human, and the rest of him was merely catching up.

He didn’t know why he felt that way though. Maybe with more lying, he would find out.

He took the Red Fox and the Black Cat’s offer. Given the reception he got when he first made it to the Malum District, he figured a clash between himself and the Black Rabbit Brotherhood was inevitable. It made no difference to him whether he trekked through the district alone or accompanied by the pair. He caught their whispers about him, though: snickers and the suggestion that he was easy to take advantage of. It therefore came to him as no surprise when they bailed, even though Gemini was particularly incensed.

Perhaps it was strange, but he liked that their attempts at deception were so obvious. It made it easier to maneuver his interactions with them. And, he thought, if things had been different somehow, he might have enjoyed teasing the Cat over his supposed aches as well.

But as it stood, he was still a puppet with no frame of reference for what teasing was even supposed to look like. Maybe the thought had come from the same place that stirred when he lied.

The same place that quaked when he found himself before a painting that looked exactly like himself. Portrait of a Boy, it was called, and there seemed to be a deep revelation behind it, tied to the clothes Antonia had gifted him, tied to the way Geppetto’s tone caressed the word son. If his hands had been flesh and blood, they might have trembled when he took the portrait down.

Trembled the way Geppetto trembled, when he brought the portrait to his father, and the man laid eyes on it. With something like reverence, Geppetto hung it in the back wall of the office, in direct view from where the man typically sat at his desk.

Looking into the portrait, especially from its perch in the office, felt so…odd. Disconcerting, even. Like he was somehow staring into a mirror of his own soul. After it was hung, he retreated downstairs to the gramophone. He chose the latest record he had procured and played it.

Somehow, it made him feel warm. He hadn’t known he was cold, before.

Something was different about the King of Puppets. Attack whatever attacked him; that had been his unwritten rule, so when the giant robot had tried to touch him, he swatted the hand away immediately. It then reared its head back and changed its face to an angry one, like he had offended it.

To project such a reaction was only further confirmation that it had an ego. While that wasn’t surprising, he had expected more hate. More…vitriol. Something that would have seemed capable of orchestrating the Frenzy, like the White Lady that hated puppets, but in reverse.

Adding to that the “play” it had almost certainly orchestrated, with the puppets that looked so much like himself and his father…it was painting a strange picture. Venigni had said that the King of Puppets communicated through Ergo, and in that space between blows, where he could momentarily rest or use a pulse cell, he could almost feel it in the air, softly buzzing like a record that was actually a recording of other recordings. Words put through a staticky filter a dozen times over.

In the end, it…almost sounded grateful…

When he took down the puppet that was inside the giant puppet’s shell, he didn’t feel like he’d won a battle. Instead, he felt perturbed. He didn’t think he could trade the puppet’s crystallized Ergo, like he had with the other Ergo crystals he had gotten. Not until he understood more. He placed it in his pack with the object that the King of Puppets had dropped. It had been near the puppet’s face, tucked close to its half-charred visage. Something about the item pulled him, almost like the portrait had, though he didn’t know why.

It was actually a relief to find Geppetto outside the opera house. Seeing his father’s face and experiencing the man’s concern felt grounding, after all the strangeness that had just taken place. It helped to refocus him as he made his way to the Lorenzini Arcade’s stargazer.

That relief evaporated when he transported himself back to the hotel. It was just supposed to be another part of the routine he shared with Sophia, where she strengthened him once he had accumulated enough Ergo from killing puppets and monsters. But then she mentioned the object the King had dropped—the necklace, the Monad Charity House.

To Romeo, your friend C, carefully engraved on the back of the necklace.

Romeo. The charity house. C. He knew those names. He knew those names, and something in him was breaking, bursting with a great and terrible clarity, taking shape right in the center of his chest, impossible and new.

Carlo, he heard, and the world shifted.

VII.I

He didn’t know what to make of himself. His hair was longer, and his body felt different. More human, like Sophia had said. But it couldn’t be possible. He was a puppet with creaking springs and metal bones. He couldn’t be human like Carlo, the boy in the portrait, the boy that Antonia remembered so fondly.

And yet the name Carlo had reverberated down to his heart of hearts—he had a heart now—and slotted into place like a puzzle piece he hadn’t known he was missing. Carlo, the boy that he looked like. Carlo, the one who wore Antonia’s clothes. Carlo, Romeo’s friend.

Carlo, the human turned puppet—

It was too much. He almost wished he could forget that the name Carlo existed. He went upstairs to see Geppetto like Sophia had suggested, looking for what, he didn’t know. Reassurance? An explanation?

Instead, his father was less than pleased. The man knew as much about what was going on as he did, which was close to nothing. To make matters worse, Geppetto had already been bothered, too, by what was happening with the portrait on the wall. When he caught a glance of it before leaving the office, he could see why.

D. Gray must have had a sense of humor. The portrait had grown a long, wooden nose.

For some reason, it reminded him of the novel of the wooden puppet that Gemini had told him about in the library downstairs. The puppet’s nose had grown longer with every lie it told. He didn’t know why he knew that, though; Gemini had never told him such details. Staring at the portrait a little longer, as if doing so would give him answers, yielded no results, so he left the office.

Just as he was out of the door, he overheard Geppetto muttering about how to proceed with these changes that had come unforeseen. Though he had been wondering the same thing, the way that his father had done so felt different. Almost clinical.

Unexpectedly, he found himself accosted by a foreign bitterness, like he was a wounded child that had reached for their parent’s comfort and had gotten rebuffed instead, for what felt like the thousandth time. The feeling was awful, making him want to go back into the office and do…something. He didn’t know. It wasn’t like his father could simply stop him from feeling things. All he could do, he supposed, was to force himself not to dwell on it.

Finding Polendina in the courtyard was a distraction he welcomed wholeheartedly.

VII.II

Sophia was somehow waiting for him at the Saintess Statue after he encountered Simon Manus. She told him the truth about Ergo, that it contained the lifespan and memories of people who died to the Petrification Disease. Ergo was once human, and she could Listen to it—Listen to him.

He…was once human…

The truth settled in him like a sigh.

He was the wooden puppet in the story from the library. He was Carlo, the dead son that made his father tremble. His Ergo had been trying to tell him all along, and the rest of him was finally starting to catch up.

After depositing a Gold Coin Fruit at the Saintess Statue, he went back to Sophia so that she could help him rearrange the strength that came from his Ergo. As Sophia placed her hand on his chest, he thought, Can you feel it? I have a heart that’s beating right now. It feels and pulses and hurts just like yours. I have a heart.

I’m almost as human as you are.

VIII

He still wasn’t sure whether or not he should call himself Carlo. He didn’t have all of Carlo’s memories (yet, a small part of him whispered). He was still part-puppet, with internal mechanisms that twitched, so it felt strange to own the identity of a full human. It was all too complicated to deal with now, with Krat still in need of saving, so he simply continued moving forward.

Venigni told him they needed Golden Ergo to reach the Isle of the Alchemists and directed him to the Barren Swamp to find it. Before he took off, though, he took care of some things in the hotel. He took a cure from Giangio for Antonia’s Petrification Disease at Polendina’s behest, and he convinced the puppet to give it to her, even though she could end up dying more quickly because of it.

He hated to admit it, but she was dying anyways. Just like with Adelina the singer, just like with the blind woman and her puppet baby, he found alleviating her suffering in the time she had left to be the best choice. And who knew—maybe the concoction would cure her completely, and he would get to enjoy her company a little longer.

He also stopped by Eugénie, and she handed him a gift to give to Alidoro on her behalf. She had been so earnest about it that he knew, if the gift had been meant for him, he would have been rather endeared by the gesture. Despite his initial reservations about Alidoro, he agreed to present it to him, and then he set off for the Barren Swamp.

On the way, he encountered the Red Fox and the Black Cat again. Once again, it didn’t matter to him whether or not they were trying to deceive him. He had plenty of Gold Coin Fruits in reserve, since he made sure never to trade them all at once with Giangio, and he checked the tree for its supply almost religiously. Parting with a single fruit wasn’t even close to a significant loss. He was pleasantly surprised by the sincere thanks he got in return, however, as well as the record that the Fox gave him.

The Cat surmised that the two of them could possibly become good friends, and he found himself silently agreeing.

His encounter with Alidoro, on the other hand, went in almost the complete opposite direction. Something in him flared indignantly on Eugénie’s behalf when the man treated her gift like it was worthless. He knew, already, he was going to have to lie to her later about Alidoro’s reaction to protect her feelings, and the thought made him feel sour.

Meeting Hugo later, after experiencing the earthquake that rattled even his metal bones, only put Alidoro’s inconsistencies in sharp relief. Eugénie had mentioned that Alidoro had lost a finger; pairing that knowledge with Hugo’s observations had him starting to suspect that the Alidoro he knew and the one they knew were entirely different people.

Worser still was the frustrating way Alidoro spoke to him after he took down the giant monster in the swamp. The man kept calling him the perfect bait.

He was not bait.

Out of consideration for Eugénie, he didn’t do anything, but that was the first time he felt like giving someone who hadn’t directly attacked him a good punch. He felt the need to cool off before checking out what happened in the Krat Central Station, so he went back to the hotel. After checking in with Sophia as usual, he then sought out Antonia, and her joy was such a sight for sore eyes.

She thanked him so profusely, even though all he did was get the cure from Giangio. At that moment, he found out what it meant to be bashful. Her adulation made him want to squirm.

Instead, he went to the piano. He wasn’t sure why he did. The last time he was in front of it, all he could do was pluck a few notes. But he supposed, with his increasing humanity came increasing muscle memory, and to both his and Antonia’s delight, he was able to play her a song.

What a sweet experience. He wanted to coat the memory of it in gold and preserve it forever.

The devastation in Krat had become even more horrifying, somehow. He had gone from stepping around pools of blood and ravaged streets to wading through acidic decay, invasive corrosion that somehow birthed monsters, and collapsed streets that had literally split wide open.

The King of Puppets had been holding back the Alchemists, and apparently, this was what happened when the Alchemists were allowed to run rampant. Even though he knew taking down the king had been logical to everyone at the time, he couldn’t help the thoughts that played in his head over and over as he made his way through a ruined Central Krat: This is my fault. I killed the King of Puppets. This is my fault…

He could only hope that somewhere, buried underneath the devastation, he would be able to discover something that would give him an edge over the Alchemists.

However, what he found instead was a horde of enemies and one of the most formidable creatures he had faced yet: a relentless monster that had somehow figured out how to use Ergo to duplicate itself. That, combined with the relatively confined space they were in, made for such a challenging fight that he had ‘reset’ well over a dozen times. When it was over, he felt he could collapse from relief alone.

He got into the nearby elevator, already making a mental checklist for what he would need to resupply and modify at the hotel, but then suddenly, halfway through the elevator’s descent, there was a crash. Wires snapped overhead, and the elevator fell rapidly, smashing into the floor so quickly that he stumbled and nearly face-planted into the wall.

And then came the heart-stopping message from Sophia.

The hotel was under attack.

From then, it was a desperate mad dash to the nearest stargazer. Simon Manus’ message along the way made him grit his teeth. What was the point of a “world of truth” if it caused this much death and destruction—if it meant losing everyone he ever cared about?

He got to the stargazer. It didn’t work. He would have cursed, if he had remembered any of those words from when he was human. That left running to the hotel on foot. Gemini’s panic about what awaited him there didn’t give him pause; if anything, it added more urgency. What if whatever was in front of the hotel decided to attack the hotel itself as well? He imagined the hotel splitting open, like the collapsed street, and the only home he ever knew caving in on itself.

It couldn’t happen. Not while he was alive to do something about it.

The enemy that awaited him was the same large robot that he had fought when he first got to the hotel, only corrupted by the dark infection that had spread through Krat thanks to the Alchemists. Perhaps because it had retained much of its old move set, or perhaps because he was still fueled by urgency, he was able to make quicker work than usual of an enemy of its size.

Finally, he could get to the hotel, unimpeded.

X.I

The first thing to greet him was a massive banner that read “HYPOCRITE.” The second was Sophia, to his great relief, who stood near the stargazer, safe and untouched by the disarray around her. After speaking with her, he immediately went upstairs to check in on everyone else, stepping over the broken mess of split furniture and tossed decorations that the Black Rabbit Brotherhood had made of the hotel.

The others were safe too…all except for his father, who had been kidnapped. When Antonia finished telling him how to get to the Alchemist’s base, he stood there for a moment, silent.

His father was gone. The pristine beauty of the hotel had been sullied. A sickly gray pallor had returned to Antonia’s complexion, while everyone else stood in the office, the remnants of terror still clinging to their faces.

Fury.

That was the emotion he felt surging through him, he realized. He wanted to yell, kick something. He wanted to pay back the Black Rabbit Brotherhood tenfold, smash in the face of each member one by one.

He wanted to make them pay.

X.II

His trek through the Relic of Trismegistus was an anger-filled haze, paused only for a moment, when he answered the phone call from the King of Riddles. It wasn’t long afterwards that he was ascending a flight of stairs to be met with the Brotherhood themselves.

“Accept your fate. Death has come for you,” they said.

How funny. They took the words right out of his mouth.

The fight between himself and the Brotherhood was brutal. They had laced their weapons with things they hadn’t used before. One chose searing fire, another chose electricity to try to short his mechanisms, and another chose acid so that every cut from their knives would burn. For his part, his slashes were heavier than before, fueled by a bristling energy he hadn’t known he was even capable of producing.

He made good on his resolve to cut them down one by one, even when they brought in their eldest sibling—somehow reanimated by the Alchemists into something more monster than human. With this newfound viciousness, even the eldest soon fell to his attacks.

And stay dead, he thought, as the man crumbled to a heap on the floor.

All four members of the Black Rabbit Brotherhood were now nothing more than corpses. It was sobering, then, to realize that he had just wiped out a family.

A family that had gone after his own. They got what they deserved, as far as he was concerned, though he couldn’t help remembering a broken and bloody body, abandoned on a cobblestone street.

X.III

He broke his unspoken rule.

Not only did Alidoro admit that he had betrayed the hotel by helping the Black Rabbit Brotherhood, but he wasn’t even the Alidoro that Eugénie so admired—the one that saved so many people after the Workshop collapsed. No, that Alidoro was killed and replaced by the one before him. Alidoro—or rather, his true moniker, the Parrot—cared about nothing but money and saving his own skin, consistently met Eugénie’s kindness with contempt, repaid Antonia’s hospitality with betrayal, and even implied he was going to kill Eugénie for her resemblance to the original Alidoro.

He was already fuming, hand clenched around the grip of his weapon, when the invisible noose around the Parrot’s neck was tightened by the Parrot himself.

The man goaded him yet again, this time reducing him to a mindless puppet bound by the Grand Covenant that couldn’t attack the Parrot even if he wanted to.

For the hotel. For Eugénie and Antonia.

He proved the man wrong with brutal efficiency, cutting him down in one fell swoop.

With that, nearly everyone responsible for the attack on the hotel was dead. He realized, then, that his rule hadn’t been truly broken. Somewhere along the way, without him knowing, it had become attack whatever attacked him or anyone he cared for.

X.IV

Back at the hotel, he made the usual rounds he did whenever he was about to venture into a new area. He resupplied, got Eugénie to strengthen his weapons, and went to Sophia.

Sophia spoke to him first before she helped him, and what she said had a knot of worry forming inside his chest. She told him that she was ready for him to see her “real self,” and soon afterward, she disappeared as if she had never been at the hotel at all. Perhaps she truly hadn’t been; in all his time at the hotel, had anyone other than himself ever interacted with Sophia?

Heeding her warning about the difficulty of the journey ahead, he made sure he didn’t leave any matters unresolved before taking off. He took a brief detour and transported himself to the Barren Swamp to teach the Broken Puppet some more emotions. Then he did the woman Belle a favor by finding her partner. The man was already thoroughly infected by the time he found him, however, skin blue and sloughing off, barely capable of speech.

When he got back to the hotel, he honored the man’s request to tell Belle that her lover had already died fighting, then watched her heart break in real time as she processed the words.

The record she gave him, titled “Why,” felt appropriate. He didn’t know the first thing about offering comfort to those in grief, but he played the record on the gramophone. He hoped it would help her.

His final stop before going to the Isle of Alchemists was Venigni; he needed Venigni to decode the cryptic vessel that the Parrot had dropped.

Venigni had already been quite giddy about something though, and before he could bring it up, Venigni was already talking. Apparently, the man had finally decoded the Ergo wavelengths the King of Puppets used to communicate.

When Venigni began playing the recording, though he didn’t know why, he braced himself.

“Carlo, I hope you can hear me,” he heard, and his heart dropped to the floor. So that was why. A part of him knew, but didn’t want to admit it, when he saw the words carved onto the back of the necklace.

Romeo, Carlo’s friend, was the King of Puppets.

And then came the worst revelation of all: Law 0 of the Grand Covenant. All puppets had to obey their Creator—all puppets had to obey Giuseppe Geppetto—

Giuseppe Geppetto was the one who ordered the Frenzy.

His father ordered the Frenzy that devastated Krat long before even the Alchemists had a chance to do so.

The walls were shaking, the whole world trembling and losing its color, as he stood there, shocked into a stupor. He was sick. He wanted to lay down and cry, even though he wasn’t capable of producing tears. A body was lying on a cobblestone street, broken and bloody—half his face charred to a crisp—killed because they knew they knew they knew—

Venigni asked him who ordered the Frenzy, and so dismayed was he that the truth slipped out before he could even consider a lie.

Afterwards, when Venigni handed him the recording, he went to the stargazer. He listened to it twice. There, under the banner that read HYPOCRITE, it dawned on him that the accusation held a modicum of truth.

When the King of Riddles had asked him if he was a killer, he had said no.

XI.I

Sophia was there to meet him when he arrived at the Isle of the Alchemists. She explained to him that her true self was trapped inside the base, but that she was able to meet him with Ergo projections. Sophia had also been the cause behind his ‘resets’—she could use Ergo to manipulate his time, so whenever he fell, whether to an enemy or to a hostile environment, she turned back his time so he could try again.

She also gave a roundabout apology, confessing that she initially hadn’t woken him to save Krat, but to save herself. She then asked him to save both herself and Krat all the same.

“Please, give me peace,” she said.

In truth, there was no need for her apology. She was the voice that woke him, after all. She was the savior who had kept him from dying countless times over, strengthening him at every significant turn until he could do it himself at a stargazer. Krat or no Krat, he would have strived to save her regardless.

Sophia sent him off with a final word of guidance: a warning that the Isle could produce echoes of the past through its high concentration of Ergo.

The warning turned out to be necessary. There, in the sand and mist beyond the edges of the surf, he rediscovered pieces of himself that he had lost.

His mother’s voice and his first friend. His bitterness at his father’s neglect. His boyhood dream and the way it had been crushed by his death. He was sick all over again, remembering how close he had been with Romeo, and then remembering his relief when Geppetto had met him after he had defeated the King of Puppets.

The way his father consistently asked him to be a “good boy” gained a new, harsher light.

He made his way into Arche Abbey, taking down a huge, hulking creature he had trouble believing was truly once a man, then used its keycard to infiltrate the base. Once through, he took down every mutation in his path as he progressed further and further upward, until he was in a large room, flooded with water that reached his ankles.

The Black Cat stood at the other end, warning him as he approached that the Cat didn’t want a fight but would attack if it meant protecting the Fox.

The Fox and the Cat had aided in the attack on the hotel. They had been the ones to drag his father through the Relic of Trismegistus to be held captive on this island. By all means, attack whatever attacked him or those he cared for should have long been springing him into action. But. But.

A body was lying on a cobblestone street. His best friend was half burnt and crumpled on the floor.

He held out a Gold Coin Fruit to the Cat instead.

With genuine surprise, the Cat took it from his hand and thanked him, and he could hear the smile in the Cat’s voice as he reiterated that they truly could be friends.

Perhaps one day, when Krat wasn’t a broken facsimile of a city, they could be.

He carried that with him as he continued up the Abbey—the promise of something better. A revived and restored Krat as recompense for their effort; a place he could live, not merely survive in, with all the people he knew. A city where Venigni, Eugénie, Sophia, Antonia, and even Polendina and Pulcinella could roam free; a city where he could fulfill the dream of a dying boy and become a true Stalker.

He wanted it, he realized, and not just because others had asked it of him. Much like it had for Sophia, it had evolved into a personal goal of his.

This was the unspoken vow he made to himself as he took on Laxasia, the Complete: I will save Krat. I will save Sophia. I will end this madness.

XI.II

Witnessing Sophia’s death was something he had no name for.

He had walked into the room after defeating Laxasia expecting to continue ascending. He hadn’t expected a pristine carpet and furniture and functioning lights; he hadn’t expected to find a room that seemed suspended in time and space, divorced from the ruin of the rest of the Abbey.

He hadn’t expected the utter horror that was Sophia’s body.

She was sat inside what almost looked like a human-sized butterfly cage, and her hands—her entire lower half—were a mass of viny, oozing ichor, of the same kind as the dark ichor that had spread the infection across Krat. Dozens of blue butterflies that came from her Ergo powers were dead and fused to her. She was pale and motionless, head bowed, with ichor-colored tear stains dried on her cheeks. What used to be her hands were suspended in the air with dark ichor-strings and wrapped around the cage where she sat, shackling her to her prison.

“Save me,” she said into his head, voice so much weaker and feebler than it had ever been before. “It hurts so much… I want to be free… Please…”

Sophia’s life was a night-terror made real.

“Oh God,” Gemini had said, appalled, upon seeing her.

Oh God, he mirrored in his head. What had Simon Manus done to her?

And more importantly, how could he save Sophia with her body so far gone?

He couldn’t, he realized. The revelation felt like bile. Even if he cut her away from the cage, she would still be suffering. She wouldn’t have the peace she had begged him to give her. It was a horrifying situation with no good choice before him, but a decision had to be made, nonetheless.

Sophia asked him to take her Ergo, and so, he obliged.

There was a tremendous weight in each step he took as he neared her, the world falling away as it became just him and the girl who woke him. Just as she had for him countless times, he placed his hand on her chest. He should be crying, he thought, as something in him pulled, and her Ergo flowed into him. He should be crying, he thought again, as he stepped back and her body began to disappear.

His heart was pounding so hard it was a wonder it hadn’t split in half.

That was two of his friends, now, that were dead by his hand.

XI.III

His body had changed again. His hair was gray, and he hardly even felt his mechanisms anymore. He breathed properly now, too. He took notice when he rolled to dodge a blow, and the impact had his breath leaving him with a sharp oof. He hardly cared, though, for what worth was his transformation if it came at so high a cost? He simply continued his fight against the Alchemist-made abominations in his way.

Each hit from his weapon was punctuated with a name: Romeo, Sophia, Antonia, Polendina.

He had gone back to the hotel after Sophia died, both to resupply and to seek out Antonia. He had wanted to check on her health, but he also felt that hearing a warm, sympathetic voice at the moment would have done him well. Instead, his situation was made all the worse by Polendina’s announcement: Antonia was dead, and the puppet couldn’t handle the weight of the grief and was going to delete his personality.

Numbly, he walked upstairs to see with his own eyes, and it was true. Antonia was gone, her Petrification Disease already having finished the process of converting her body into Ergo. She had left him a letter; at the end of it, she said that the time she spent with him was like pure light.

He should have been crying.

On his way out of the office, he had noticed that the nose on his portrait had grown to an absurd length, glowing faintly with a golden light. Intuitively, he knew that some sort of process had been completed, the same way he had known that he was connected to the portrait. He had taken ahold of the nose and pulled, and as he had, it broadened and lengthened until what he held in his hands was a weapon.

It was a polearm made of deep brown wood and glittering gold, with golden leaves and coins at the ends that looked strangely as though they had been taken from the Gold Coin Tree. It was embedded with the name Golden Lie, and when he swung it experimentally, it felt as though he were wielding an extension of himself.

It was this weapon that he used now, mourning even as he fought, every strike a name of someone he had lost.

A curious thing started happening the more he used the weapon: he began to remember. He remembered in bits and flashes the book that had been read over and over until the edges of the pages were frayed. He remembered a young boy who had clutched a Gold Coin Fruit and wished fervently upon a star that he could be like the wooden puppet—that he might have a father who loved him, too.

A mother on her deathbed had given her boy a book about an old fairy tale, and the book became the boy’s sanctuary and lifeline.

He should be crying, he thought again, as he climbed a set of dusty stone stairs. Part of him was so furious that he wasn’t.

The Red Fox met him in the hall that followed, and his exchange with her went in much the same way as it had with the Black Cat: instead of attacking, he gave her a Gold Coin Fruit as well.

She surprised him again with her earnest apology. “You’re the only one who’s ever been kind to us,” the Fox said remorsefully, and it stuck with him.

He hadn’t been considering kindness at all as he acted; he had only been doing what felt right to him. He supposed that meant he was kind, if saving people and avoiding fights when possible were what felt right.

He wished his father had shared some of that kindness. Perhaps then, the man wouldn’t have ordered all the puppets in Krat to kill so many people.

He found Geppetto’s cell and unlocked it, a complex wave of emotions passing through him when his father was so overtly relieved to see him. Geppetto warned him about Simon Manus and urged him to go and stop the man from completing his mad plan, unaware that he would have done so regardless of whether or not Geppetto had asked.

He had a vow to fulfill, after all, and it was the urgency behind its completion that held him back from confronting Geppetto then and there about the Frenzy. After Simon Manus was dealt with and everything was over, he was going to have a long conversation with his father.

Before sending him off, Geppetto asked him if he had been a trustworthy father.

The question was startling, not least because the answer came to him quickly and easily, even though he had never considered it before.

“No,” he said, because his father had asked him to say the truth, and beyond freeing Geppetto from his cell, he didn’t want to afford any more kindness to the man who orchestrated the Frenzy and sent him to kill the puppet with his best friend’s Ergo.

Even more startling was Geppetto’s genuine remorse upon hearing his answer. “I wasn’t a very good father to you,” Geppetto said, somber and low. “I gave you more loneliness than love.

“Son, you’re all I have.”

What right had this man, to only now say what a young boy with a wish had wanted so ardently to hear, after the boy was already dead and remade into a shell of his former self? What right had this man to look at him so vulnerably and promise to be better, when it was already so late, and so many horrible things had happened?

He left, hating, hating with everything that he had, that he could not cry.

XI.IV

The sun was setting on the horizon. Crisp, salty air, heavy-laden with Ergo, whipped at his cheeks. The Golden Lie was steady in his hand, ready to make its mark.

There, at the very top of the Abbey, was Simon Manus: the madman with a plan to become a god. Earlier, he had gone back to the room where Sophia was kept to glean more of Simon Manus’ motivation, only to discover the man’s nauseating fascination with Sophia, as well as a complete disregard for her agency. Simon Manus, discontented with the amount of Ergo already contained within the Isle and the Relic of Trismegistus, had built a machine—that cage—to siphon her power, which resulted in the eventual degradation of her body.

This man had helped to destroy Krat on nearly every possible level, was the direct cause of Sophia’s suffering, and was the originator behind the plague that infected nearly everyone who wasn’t killed by puppets, all in the name of a perverse idea of evolution.

He advanced forward, his vow playing through his head like a broken record.

Grotesquely misshapen though Simon Manus had become, the man’s attacks still hit crushingly hard. He made sure to return what he received in kind, though, the Golden Lie swinging quickly and viciously at the man’s bulbous flank whenever possible.

Then, shaken and nearly beaten, Simon Manus split himself open, and a new, inhuman torso reached for the sky—

And a flood of Ergo answered, taking the shape of a giant hand.

He witnessed, then, the birth of an Ergo-stuffed monster that thought itself a god. Simon Manus’ attacks went from hard to near overwhelming, until suddenly overwhelming wasn’t just near anymore, and he had to reset.

And reset again. And again.

He should have found it frustrating, having to restart the fight so many times, but instead, he only thought of Sophia.

Though she was only a mass of Ergo now, her power still persisted—her intent to be with him until the end still persisted. The force behind every swing wasn’t only his own, nor the intuition that told him when to dodge and when to advance. He could feel it, like a sweet, low thrum: her Ergo inside his Ergo, her heart inside his heart, closer even than the air he breathed.

Sophia wasn’t fully gone, and with each reset, he found himself more and more determined.

I will save Krat. I will save Sophia. I will end this madness.

At a certain point, even Simon Manus took notice of Sophia’s intervention, saying, “Aw, our blue fairy adores you so. Pathetic.”

Simon Manus didn’t know how taunting him in such a manner would help contribute to the man’s own downfall.

Sophia had been willing to transcend even her own death in order to stop a maniac who caused untold amounts of pain and killed hundreds of people for his own gain. To hear her effort minimized in such a manner incensed him, to the point that there now was a near reckless level of aggression in his attacks that hadn’t been there before. Soon enough, the added aggression proved to be the eventual key to his victory.

A savage flurry of hits struck well and true, and Simon Manus fell.

Good. He hoped that each blow hit hard enough that it would still be smarting in the afterlife.

With life steadily trickling out of the man’s body, there was only moments left until the leader of the Alchemists was dead. To his muted surprise and to Simon Manus’ credit, that time wasn’t spent in anger or cursing him for having thwarted the man’s plans. Instead, those moments were spent speaking about Sophia.

When Simon Manus asked him what he had done with Sophia, he answered truthfully.

He gave her what Simon Manus never could: peace.

And then Simon Manus disappeared, not with a lamentation, not with regret, but with a warning for his sake, the one whom the blue fairy chose. “Watch out for Geppetto, puppet.”

It was time to go meet his father. He couldn’t withhold a surge of dread within him.

XI.V

He treaded slowly, carefully, towards his father, each step on dusty white stone resounding to his ears with the same sobering significance as the strike of a judge’s gavel.

There was a mad elation to Geppetto’s countenance as the man received him, talking about every “ingredient” being in place. The man talked about resurrecting him—resurrecting Carlo—as a human.

But I’m already alive, he thought, but didn’t say.

The man talked about using the item Simon Manus had used to transform himself, the Arm of God, in combination with the mountainous amount of Ergo still saturating the air.

Simon Manus turned into a monster. You want to turn me into a monster.

And then it came, the merciless deathblow to any goodwill he might have had left for his father.

With an outstretched hand, Geppetto said, “Give me your heart, son.”

His father wanted to rip his heart, still beating, out of his chest, and all he could think of was Sophia’s heart in his heart, her Ergo in his Ergo, still waiting to be saved.

“No,” he said, with resolute finality.

Later, he would look back and realize that this was the impetus for the ultimate tragedy behind what would ensue: he was both Carlo and the wooden puppet, created by Geppetto twice over, and in neither life did his father ever take him or his sentiments seriously.

“I believed you were a good boy…but you insist on breaking my heart,” Geppetto said, his visage morphing into something ugly and angry.

He listened to his father scold him like he was a misbehaving child, and then reduce him to a mere “puppet that would bring his son back to life,” as if Carlo hadn’t risen to his consciousness from the depths of his own heart, as if the little boy who had held a Gold Coin Fruit and wished for a better father had been a stranger.

Perhaps his father was at least partially right, he realized, brandishing the Golden Lie as he readied himself to fight: he might not have had all his memories as Carlo, but he certainly had a far better grasp on his personality.

He was going to make his father see that he was his own person, even if he had to fight his own reanimated corpse to do it.

The fight that ensued between himself and the corpse-puppet controlled by his father was difficult, but manageable, though he had to grit his teeth through the demeaning reprimands his father tossed at him. It wasn’t long until he was familiar with the corpse-puppet’s patterns of attack, and he was actively able to create openings for himself by briefly stunning it out of Geppetto’s control with the Golden Lie, and then rapidly switching to a blade that had been reinforced to its maximum strength by Eugénie.

With a heavy attack fueled by his own righteous anger and determination, he swiped through the corpse-puppet’s head, and the top of its skull fell clean off, the rest of it surely soon to follow.

Or so he assumed.

Something was wrong. He felt it even in his bones, when the corpse-puppet clutched its head in a silent scream, and with a wild burst of Ergo, it took over the strings that Geppetto had been using to control it. Its very Ergo had made the air around it tremor, distorted by something that felt heavy and oppressive.

He realized what it was when the puppet proceeded to overwhelm him less than a minute later. It was hatred.

Geppetto had to have been utterly blind to everything except what he wanted to see. There was no way that putting his heart in that would result in anything other than a Carlo-shaped monster.

He brandished the Golden Lie and steeled himself to try again. Though he made it farther this time, this fight went much like the last, and he was forced to reset. And then do it again and again.

Over and over, he tried to beat the corpse-puppet, tried to discern its attack patterns, tried to pretend that it didn’t sting to hear his father say time and again, “You’re just a puppet, nothing more!” All to no avail. The corpse-puppet was faster than him, hit harder than him, and he wondered if this was the nigh-poetic end he was meant to meet: defeated by his own damned corpse, the embodiment of a past he could not overcome.

In a moment of weakness after nearing two dozen resets, he briefly contemplated giving up and allowing Geppetto to take his heart. It would have been so easy. All he had to do was call out to Geppetto and tell him he’d changed his mind.

I will save Krat. I will save Sophia. I will end this madness.

The reminder of his vow immediately shamed him into shutting that line of thinking down. He had to live, for both Sophia’s and his own sake.

He went out to fight again for the umpteenth time, but the vow had raised in him renewed purpose and vigor. This was what he told himself, as he summoned the strength to start anew: he wasn’t going to let his father win. He wasn’t going to let the man decide that he wasn’t human, or that he didn’t have a say over what happened to his own heart. His humanity was his alone to make of it, even if no one else ever saw him as anything more than a puppet, even if he had to grasp it by the skin of his teeth.

He was going to fight this corpse until there was nothing left of him.

The fight this time was different. Perhaps it was a trick of his mind, or perhaps it was simply his own Ergo whispering to him, but he could swear he could hear the words of people he had met echoing in his ears as he fought.

Eugénie’s first time meeting him. Antonia’s warm voice, reminiscing. Venigni calling him someone who didn’t give up. Romeo’s parting words, drudged up from the depths of his consciousness. Simon Manus declaring a world of truth—a place where he wouldn’t have to lie to prove he was human. And finally, Sophia, who had promised to do everything she could to help him, and then kept that promise.

He would reset a million times, if that was what it took to preserve the life he had built after he awoke that fateful night.

The corpse-puppet was still too strong, but the knowledge and experience he gained from each attempt was finally catching up. This fight had gone on the longest so far, and he had managed to whittle down the corpse-puppet’s constitution more than with any other attempt.

The reverse was also true, though—the longer the fight went on, the more the corpse-puppet seemed to aim for his heart. As if through the cloud of hatred it operated under, the puppet could perceive that it was the source of his ability to defy death.

He narrowly avoided a sharp jab aimed right at the center of his chest, and he thought, somewhere, he might have heard a gasp.

Just a little more. Just a little further, and the corpse-puppet would fall, and he could prove to his father that he was more than what the man thought he was. He stunned the puppet once more with the Golden Lie. This had to be it, his chance for the decisive blow—

The stun was a feint.

Too quickly for him to react, the corpse-puppet split its weapon in two and swiped at him, its superior strength sending him flying backward. Now he was the one who was stunned, all the wind knocked out of him as he landed on his back, perfectly vulnerable for the coup de grâce that was sure to come.

But when it came, he was stunned again, for all the wrong reasons.

His father stood there before him, sword stuck straight through the man’s torso.

There was a horrible wet cough, words he could hardly hear through the heavy rush of his own heartbeat roaring in his ears: “Were you…going to destroy…Carlo’s heart?”

And then his body was moving. With a searing energy ripped from a place inside himself he didn’t know he had, he rammed his mechanical arm into the puppet’s chest.

His hand came clean through the other side, wrapped around the puppet’s p-organ. He yanked his arm back, allowing the puppet to fall, and then collected energy into his arm until the mechanical heart was pulverized in his hand.

Something in him was restored as the corpse-puppet’s Ergo flowed into him. He couldn’t pay it any mind, because suddenly, behind him there was a thud.

No.

His father was on the floor. Everything was off-balance, off-kilter, nothing making sense as he fell to his knees next to Geppetto. His father wasn’t supposed to love him like this. His father wasn’t supposed to be willing to die for him.

Slowly, so slowly he felt as though he himself might break, he lifted his father’s head to see the man’s face more clearly. Geppetto coughed, and blood splattered from his mouth.

No, no, no.

Now, finally, was when the tears began to flow from his eyes.

Geppetto’s gaze fixed on his face—fixed on the tears that fell—and something like realization passed through the man’s face.

With the last bit of strength Geppetto had, he said, “I’m sorry, son.”

And then Giuseppe Geppetto breathed his last.

A dam within him had been smashed to pieces. He didn’t know how long he stayed there, head bowed low over his father’s corpse, sobs shaking out of him. It was irrational, but he begged Sophia to turn back his time. He begged to be allowed to save his father.

Nothing happened, of course, because the resets had never worked that way. He had never been able to restart a fight he had already finished.

And besides, what reason would Sophia have had to help him save the man who started the Frenzy, who knew his son so little that he was willing to destroy his son to “resurrect” him?

It didn’t make sense for him to care so much about Geppetto, he knew. Memories he didn’t have before flashed through his mind: his father never having time to be home, missing his graduation, sending birthday gifts through the mail instead of bestowing them in person. He should have hated Geppetto for all that the man did and didn’t do, should have spat on his corpse and walked away, like Romeo would have.

But he couldn’t.

He was forever Carlo, the boy who wanted his father to love him, and he was the wooden puppet, the one who realized that his father loved him far too late.

Something began to shift underneath his trembling hands. He watched, transfixed, as Geppetto, just like Sophia, disappeared into a glittering trail of Ergo. He wouldn’t even get to bury his father with his mother, then. Bitterly, he surmised that taking his father was fate’s cruel manner of reminding him that he couldn’t stay there forever. The fulfillment of his vow was still incomplete.

Though the grief was still there, burrowed into his heart, and he felt as though a part of him would remain crying forever, now was not the time to be rendered useless by his emotions. There would be time to mourn later. Now that Krat was saved, and the madness was over, he needed to save Sophia.

It was hard, scouring Arche Abbey for a way to bring Sophia back. Not because the place itself was almost labyrinthine, nor because he didn’t have any leads—he found that within an hour or so in the area where Sophia had been kept—but because of his own body.

His head was pounding. He felt as though each limb were being weighed down by anvils. He was tired.

Whatever happened to himself being powered by Ergo? He didn’t feel a single mechanism within him anymore, nor did he have a clue whether, if he were to be cut open, what would be found inside his body would be cold steel or flesh and bone. Would he have to sleep, or eat, or use the latrine? Could he even call himself a puppet anymore?

What could he call himself?

The answer wouldn’t come to him until later, when he returned to the uppermost portion of the Abbey. He was treated to a full view of the sun coming up over Krat’s skyline, its morning light sweeping a bright, shimmering trail over the ocean. A different kind of dawn arose within him as he held his hand over his eyes, shielding his face from wind and too-bright sun so that he could take in the view in its fullness.

He knew who he was now.

The wooden puppet had become a real boy.

The revelation played through his mind, curled around his heart as he came across a hidden path in the upper levels of the Abbey that led to an area outside. Finally, he found it: the puppet body that Simon Manus had commissioned in the perfect likeness of Sophia, but had wound up discarding, dissatisfied with how doll-like the body was. The man had likely kept Geppetto alive so that his father could make another one that was a near perfect copy.

As he beheld the puppet, he knew that it would suffice. It had her face, her hair, even the gentle manner with which she carried herself in its demure posture. This was the girl who had woken the wooden puppet, and then helped the puppet become real.

He was Carlo Geppetto, son of Giuseppe Geppetto, and he was alive thanks to her.

Just as she had for him countless times, he placed his hand on her chest. Something in him pushed, and all that was Sophia flowed from himself into the puppet.

And then everything caught up to him at once, and Carlo fainted.

iii

Waking up in this body was something Carlo still had no name for. He was back in the hotel, and when he didn’t see Sophia there, he nearly panicked. He checked around, first downstairs, and then upstairs in his father’s study, withstanding the sharp pang he felt at its emptiness.

On his father’s desk was something that hadn’t been there before. It was a letter from Sophia. Carlo took it, fingers brushing the delicately woven ribbon that bound it, and then smiled at its kindred familiarity.

Thank you for giving me a new life, it began.

#lies of p #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p carlo #lies of p spoilers #my writing #tried to make the narrative evolve with p's humanity #i really hope this game's fandom isn't as dead as my blog

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the-ninja-legacy-whip · 7 months

Note

So since Anthonia is a distant cousin, does that mean she's stuck with Kai as a family member when he start dating Skylor ? Amd what would be her reaction and the others about their relationship? ( the others means the ninjas, Jesse, Anthonia, ect )

Nothing quite that drastic, but once Skylor gets the chance to meet Antonia she's thrilled at the idea of "meeting some of her mother's family" (even if it is family that's like seven times removed)

Antonia thinks Skylor is cool as hell and thinks it's funny to watch Kai absolutely fumble over her

Lloyd can literally sense the potency of their connection and thus approves, but also likes seeing Kai unashamedly happy again (especially after S3's aftermath, hoo)

Zane, as usual, minds his business about other people's love lives, although he (and Pixal) are naturally a little skeptical about Skylor specifically and her intentions even after everything. But with how hard Kai vouches and seeing her try to better herself, he eventually warms up to her

Pixal takes much longer to stop giving the cold shoulder. Skylor doesn't blame her. Kai feels slightly guilty but not guilty enough

Cole taunts Kai relentlessly for being so blatantly weak for Skylor after witnessing months of his shameless flirting with people but Kai just flips the script on him when it comes to Jesse

Speaking of Jesse, certain S3-related circumstances ahem lead him to having a crush on Skylor for like 48 hrs (because she is attractive and cool and he is a weak bisexual individual). Non-drama shenanigans ensue and he and Skylor become good friends, but Jesse ultimately and very gladly sends her in Kai's direction snksnknk (Jesse you've been in enough triangles for a lifetime stop)

Nya: How. How did this happen. Jesse: ...how did what happen? Nya: How do you guys get kidnapped onto a remote island, forced into a life-or-death elemental tournament WITHOUT ME, and Kai, a solid 7 maybe on a good day, comes back with a living, breathing once-evil smoking hot strong af girlfriend on his arm???? Nya: Am I in a parallel world??? A mirror realm of some kind??? A DREAM?! Chad: No, it's more a nightmare, really. Nya: ...I have to lay down. I have to be imagining things– Kai: sHUT UP NYA IT'S NOT THAT HARD TO BELIEVE Skylor: *losing her mind laughing*

...and, discussing Jay is spoilers.

#ns4 #info tag #book 5 #kailor #skylor chen #kai smith #antonia sawyer #bwah not tagging everyone #legacy spoilers

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abarbaricyalp · 8 months

Text

Things To Crawl Home To

I have been trying to post this on AO3 since last night and keep getting errors, so tumblr is getting it first. I have been working on this since literally as soon as I walked out of the movie theater after seeing black widow. I actually thought I wouldn't finish it/post it. It's not as polished and deep as I wanted it (waited too long to really get into it) But every single thing I see about Thunderbolts makes me want to pick up my toys and go home so I figured I should post it before that movie ruins these characters I love and lets writers who don't care about them turn them into comedic caricatures. Lerato is the Widow who is always with Taskmaster. She's the one who tells her to smile in the first scene and who helps her in the last. Literally do not pay attention to the timeline. Roughly set in 2023/24 but genuinely do not think about it

Antonia barely registered Lerato rubbing her forearm. Her eyes were focused on the heavy door in front of her. She got the basic idea of it. Safety. Privacy. All of that stuff she hadn’t quite gotten the hang of since 2016. Not really. But for the fact that she’d be shutting that door behind herself, trapping herself inside with the man beyond it, she was even less fond of how thick and soundproof it was.

“It’s going to be fine,” Lerato said, bringing her hands up to either side of Antonia’s face. As always, she didn’t hesitate to press her palms to the scars. As always, Antonia was shocked. She tilted the smooth side of her face into Lerato’s hand and closed her eyes.

“I know. I’ve read his files. He is...reformed.”

“Just like you,” Lerato said, not for the first time. But Antonia wasn’t sure. She’d seen what they’d done to him. She’d seen him in action. It was different. It wasn’t just a gas and some sparkles that had cured him. He had trigger words. How the hell did someone take that out of a person’s brain?

“He wanted to see you,” Lerato reminded her. “He wants to help.”

“Or he wants to trap me somewhere.”

Lerato smiled wryly. “Then I’ll kick his ass. But I think he’s even more tired than you are. He’s not looking for a fight. Besides,” she smoothed her thumb over the cheekbone with the scars fondly, “Captain America’s in there with him right now. He can’t be that bad of a guy.”

“He is the Winter Soldier.”

“And you’re the Taskmaster. You’re both badasses. It’ll be okay.”

And Antonia knew that, and really did believe it. It was just easy to get swept up in anxieties and what-ifs now that she had the time and freedom to do so. As the Taskmaster, there was no time for hesitation or thought. Every movement was programmed into her. She’d never experience the curdling curl of anxiety in her gut before Romanoff deprogrammed everyone. She’d thought she’d been dying the first time it had happened. It had happened so often since, though, that she was very familiar with its fiery pain.

Lerato reached for the door and pulled it open before Antonia could find another argument to stall her hand. If they were different women, perhaps she could have curled her arms around Lerato’s waist, backed her up against the sturdy but plain walls, kissed her until they were both breathless and laughing, until the thought of the point of this evening was forgotten in lieu of getting back to their own apartment as quickly as possible. But they were not those kind of women, hadn’t been afforded that life and didn’t take it now that they had the opportunity. Though, the longer they spent in the real world and the more Antonia got to kiss and love Lerato in private, the more she thought she absolutely could become that woman.

She tore her eyes away from the soft spot behind Lerato’s ear, where she’d shiver like a north wind had blown through their room if Antonia kissed it, and through the yawning maw of the door. The apartment on the other side was comfortable, if sparse. A safe house, not a home. The Winter Soldier fidgeted behind the cream couch in the middle of the room and a handsome black man stood in front of him, holding a hand to his metal shoulder, thumb moving over where Antonia knew the prosthetic began.

Funny, she thought, of all the things she and the Soldier had in common, she hadn’t imagined being grounded by touch on scars would’ve been one of them.

The handsome black man--the Falcon, Captain America, Sam Wilson--looked over at her and Lerato and smiled genuinely. Antonia wondered where he found the energy to be so earnest all the time. She had watched film of him, but he was impossible to copy without wings of her own and the Red Room had never figured out how to replicate them. Flight was so engrained in him that he was entirely his own brand of hero, one even the Taskmaster couldn’t imitate.

“Behave,” Sam Wilson said and pressed the flat of his hand to the Soldier’s cheek in what could’ve been a sort of genial, male way if it hadn’t been so gentle. “Make friends.”

“You make friends,” the Soldier snapped back.

It was such a childish remark, it caught Antonia off guard. And Lerato too apparently, because she burst out in snickers. She’d almost contained them after a few seconds, but then the Soldier shot a grin over at her and she started all over again.

Logically, Antonia knew much had changed for the Soldier since his days with the Red Room. She still had not expected this. He was charming.

On film, the Soldier was horrifying. Efficient and cold and uncaring. Calculating and mechanical. She had watched days, weeks, months of film of the Soldier. He was the ideal killing machine. So much of the Taskmaster seemed to be built out of the Winter Soldier and the time the Red Room had had access to him.

Then he’d broken his conditioning. The Soldier had a physical form of conditioning, she knew that. Like the Red Room of days past. Cognitive rehabilitation. Electroshocks. A literal rewiring of the hardware. Then he’d gone off the grid in 2014. No new videos to watch until the UN and the ensuing chaos in 2016. She’d known from the first video in the news that the man responsible for the UN bombing was not the Winter Soldier. Everything about the deep fake was wrong.

The Soldier did not appear in many films afterwards. A few recordings from the airport in Germany and that was it before Natasha Romanoff and Yelena Belenova destroyed the Red Room and the Widows’ programming. Her own programming.

She’d seen videos of him in the past few months. Still powerful, still calculating. But with so much more heart. He pulled his punches now. Took hits he didn’t need to to spare an unnecessary death count. It didn’t really make him any less efficient and she wasn’t sure anyone else would notice.

She supposed that heart and compassion, hidden as it was, should’ve been a clue towards the man standing before her in ridiculous combat boots, jeans, and a henley that looked to be about two sizes too small. She didn’t know why she expected him to be dressed for a fight. She hadn’t even come dressed for a fight.

(Well, there were a few holsters here and there, but she suspected the Soldier had his fair share of concealed weapons on him too)

His hair was still cut. She’d seen it in the videos that had surfaced after he and Captain America had dealt with the Flagsmashers, but it was jarring to see it in real life. He looked human again. Touchable, even if she knew better. She wondered if any of the severity had been removed from her own body. If someone saw her on the street and wouldn’t flinch away.

Lerato and Sam Wilson walked out of the room at the same time, Wilson pausing to let Lerato go first. His last look towards Barnes kept him from noticing the one Lerato and Antonia shared. The door closed behind them with a gentle click. The kind that came from a door designed to close softly being guided still by a hand that knew it. Barnes didn’t like loud noises.

The openness and boyish charm he’d just had with Sam Wilson in the room cooled off significantly as soon as the other man wasn’t around. Atonia felt her shoulders shrug in closer to her ears, arms pinching into her ribs.

“You know,” she eventually offered when Barnes had a few non-starters. “I thought you might’ve left a real calling card, being so old fashioned. A text seemed so modern.”

Finally, the anxious blanket he’d been pulling over his head fell away. He couldn’t fight down a grin and he looked up at her through his lashes, as boyish as ever. Antonia wondered if the Winter Soldier had ever been able to utilize this side of Barnes. Certainly never on camera, but other times, perhaps.

“Text messaging is so much faster than carrier pigeon,” he explained. “And I’ve grappled with enough Widows to know that I probably shouldn’t try to leave a card on their kitchen table.”

Antonia nodded, felt a warring of emotion in her chest at the thought of Natasha Romanoff. She knew Barnes knew Yelena as well, but she knew there was far more history between Barnes and Natasha. If he mentioned a Widow, he was likely talking about Natasha. “Why did you ask to meet me?” she asked.

“Because I’ve been where you are.” He seemed to gear up for a long monologue but then blanched suddenly. “Do you want to sit? Can I get you a drink? Sam made sure we have about every beverage you could ask for in the fridge.”

Antonia sat in a wingback reading chair nearest where she was standing. “I’m okay, thank you. Maybe later, if this takes long.”

Barnes’ mouth twisted in a fun, if deprecating, smirk. “I didn’t use to be long winded. Now, I can’t make any promises.”

Antonia was still learning to give herself space to use words. Measuring out each sentence. Filling in gaps. Taking up time.

This thought was not written on her face because her thoughts never were but Barnes must have recognized something in her hesitation to respond because he said, “Do you still feel like you’re wearing the mask sometimes?”

“Did you?” she asked without answering.

“I still do,” Barnes said simply. “But it’s never been real. Not one time since I got out.”

Antonia took a long breath and then nodded. “I know. That doesn’t make it any easier to ignore.”

Barnes sat down on the couch, though he was leaning so far forward he was practically halfway across the room. “I asked you to come here because I thought maybe talking about some of that might help. HYDRA and the Red Room evidently stole from each other all the time because we were eerily similar.”

“You worked with the Red Room,” Antonia pointed out.

Barnes inclined his head and let out a steady breath. “I did. I was a test for the Widows. One of the last ones.”

“You killed some.”

“Another thing we have in common.”

Antonia let the fact sting her straight through to the soul and back out the other side of her ribs. But she kept herself still. “And you’re an asshole.”

“Something we don’t have in common,” Barnes conceded. “What was the first thing you chose for yourself?”

Antonia thought about the chaos that proceeded Natasha’s destruction of the Red Room. Natasha had disappeared in the smoke, but Yelena had stayed, ushered everyone onto a jet and taken them to a safe house. She remembered the way the Widows had looked at her, cramped together in a confused mass. That first night, she’d still felt like an escaped animal. Lerato was the only person to come near her. Antonia had waited behind everyone else, hadn’t asked for extra or even minimum when supplies were being rationed out.

“I put on pajamas,” she said. “Soft shorts and a long-sleeve thermal top. I had never worn anything like that before. And I chose to stay in the same room as Lerato. We made a nest of blankets on the floor even though there were beds.”

“And how’s it felt to keep making decisions?”

“Overwhelming. I sometimes forget to. I expect people to make them for me until I remember that I do that now.” Just the other day, she had gone to make lunch and found the fridge nearly bare. Grocery shopping was proving particularly difficult to get the hang of.

Barnes nodded his understanding. “When I got out, I was immediately on my own. I didn’t know what to do or how best to do it. I wasted a lot of time trying to strategize as soon as I was safe enough to.”

“How did you get over it?” Because at this point, Antonia wasn’t sure she could ever relax the muscles coiled in her whole body.

“I got comfortable,” Barnes answered with a shrug. “I know that feels impossible. Hell, I thought it was too. But one day I realized the coffeeshop knew my order and the fish market remembered my name. Well, my alias, anyway. I closed my eyes in the shower. It just…became easier.”

“It just happened?” Antonia asked with a frown. That didn’t seem right. Everything else had been such a fight. But…she had fallen asleep with her head on Lerato’s shoulder while they watched TV a few nights ago and the sound of the elevator dinging didn’t make her jump anymore and she almost trusted herself enough to open the door for packages.

“You have to let it happen, but, yes,” Barnes agreed.

Antonia still did not fully believe it. It was one thing to be safe and comfortable around Lerato. It was another thing to feel it out in the world. She sat back in the seat, tried to make herself relax. Barnes was relaxed. She’d seen the way he tended to sprawl across whatever seat he was sat on. He always seemed to be in such easy control. The Taskmaster had been like that too. Not that the Taskmaster was ever allowed to sit, but the easy control part was familiar. Maybe it was the boots. She should do like Barnes and start wearing combat boots again.

“When did you decide to get back into the fight?” she asked. “How did you get comfortable with that?” Yelena was working again. Other heroes had filled in the blank spots left by the ‘originals.’ Other villains had appeared too. Antonia was…capable. She should be doing what she could to help. But the thought made her want to be sick every time it even flitted a little close to her mind.

Barnes’ mouth twisted a little. “I don’t think I really am that comfortable with it still. But I trust myself. There were a lot of people who helped me get there again.”

“The trigger words,” she interrupted and then flinched in expectation of the outburst from him.

But Barnes didn’t explode. He just nodded a little. “Yes. I suppose you have probably heard about the Sokovia Accords and the fight that followed. That was the first time I fought again, the first time I had to use…the more violent of my skills. Afterwards, when it was over and we were safe–on the run, but safe–I asked someone a lot smarter than me to undo my conditioning.”

“How?” Antonia pressed. “How did it happen? How were you sure?”

“I wasn’t,” Barnes admitted. “It was a long process. It involved me going back on the ice, a stasis. She was able to isolate neural pathways or something. Reroute them. Break connections. We went through round after round of that. Lots of monitoring. Lots of training. And one night, a friend took me far from everyone else and said all the trigger words and…nothing happened.”

Antonia looked down to her hands. She was still getting used to seeing her body instead of gloves and sleeves and weapons. She counted scars when she needed to think or when her thoughts were getting too far ahead of her. Today, even that distraction was failing her. She couldn’t keep her numbers straight.

“I’m worried the machine is still out there,” she admitted quietly. The port in the back of her head had been carefully removed, so even if the machine was found or recreated, no one could ever plug her back in, like she was some robot. But the anxiety persisted. She woke up in a cold sweat more nights than not with the phantom sensation of orders flooding into her body. “I don't ever want to do what someone else tells me to again.”

“I know,” Barnes agreed. “I can’t promise you that you won’t have to. I don’t know what your future holds. But I know if you keep yourself surrounded by people who care about you, as scary as that is, you’re going to be a lot safer than if you isolate yourself.”

Antonia considered that. This was something she supposed she knew and had partially accepted. There were not many people in her corner. Lerato primarily. But Yelena was around. A friend-not-friend of Yelena’s as well. Occasionally some of the other Widows appeared, seeking shelter or company. She would not consider them confidants, but perhaps one day.

“Hey, you and your friend are just kids,” Barnes added. “You don’t have to start the fight again if you don’t want to.”

Antonia grimaced. “There are those who are younger. I was younger and Lerato even younger than me.” And they needed help. Others had tried to step in, to find all the operatives out in the world, but it was slow going and Antonia wasn’t sure who was still working on it. Lerato wanted to. Antonia knew she did, which fueled her as much as it terrified her.

“Do you worry you rely too much on him? On Captain America?” she asked quietly. She wasn’t demure; that kind of trait hadn’t come with her freedom and anxiety. She didn’t look up at him from under her lashes. But her glances were quick and shallow. Like he might see too much if she kept her eyes on him.

Barnes let out some kind of huff. She heard him sit back in the couch. “All the time,” he admitted. “I tried to stay away once, after the Battle of Earth and all of that. It didn’t work out well for us.”

“Yes, I can tell,” she agreed and let him scoff out a laugh.

“Sam and I are partners,” he said. “All the way through. Partners need to be able to lean on each other. If he can’t trust me to ask him for help, that’s a core foundation block that’s going to send the rest of our relationship tumbling down. Imagine if I didn’t tell him I’d been hurt in a fight and just passed out before I could get to a rendezvous or I wasn’t there to have his back. It’s no different for…emotional things.”

Even with his very eloquent words, it sounded like he was having to wrench each thought out of his chest. So Antonia was pretty sure this was something he still struggled with. And if he, who was so put-back-together and had such a strong partner, could struggle with it, what hope was there for her?

“Your friend…Lerato, right?” Barnes offered. “I’m sure she wants to be there for you. And I’m sure you’re there for her too. You both need both sides of that relationship. I promise you, you need both sides.”

“And the nightmares?” she asked. For a brief moment, her throat almost closed fully, but there was a sudden rush of heat through her body that had her voice keeping steady, getting a little louder. These moments had been happening more and more recently. Lerato said it was called a personality, which always made Antonia roll her eyes. But it was kind of a nice thought.

Barnes sighed. “I can’t tell you anything about those. If you figure it out, you’ll have to track me down and let me know.”

Antonia mimicked his sigh and, judging by the way his eyes narrowed a little in amusement, he caught on that she’d done so on purpose. She sat back in the chair, keeping her shoulders back, jaw tilted a little. The amusement on Barnes’ face lit up further. “Do you follow orders?”

He shrugged. “Depends on who’s giving them and why.”

“And you’re comfortable enough to trust yourself making those decisions?”

“Well, usually it’s Sam telling me what to do, so that’s not so bad. And when other people do it…yeah, I’m pretty comfortable making decisions for myself.”

Antonia considered this. “And you have your own life the rest of the time?”

“I do,” he agreed. “Which helps me with the other shit. Something to hold onto.”

The thought was tantalizing. Antonia wasn’t foolish. There was no room in her life to be. She knew eventually someone would hand her that damn mask again and point her to a fight. But Barnes was right. There was more freedom here. She could dig her heels in now. She could turn around and walk the other way. No one was programming her anymore.

She stood, all on her own volition, and offered her hand out to Barnes. If he was surprised, he hid it well. He stood as well and shook her hand.

“Listen, I’m always around, okay? I’m no therapist and I’m definitely not Sam, but I know I wish I’d had someone who went through the shit I did, alright? Maybe I’ll have an answer or commiseration.”

Antonia nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind. This was…helpful.”

Barnes snorted and waved his hand in a sort of ‘lay it on me’ kind of way. But Antonia had nothing else to add. “Hey, I’m also around for sparring, yeah?” he added. “Actually, I’m asking you to stop by the gym sometime. I’d love to actually fight someone who can keep up.”

Antonia’s eyebrows rose. “I don’t think you can keep up with me, old man,” she said. Another surprised laugh erupted from Barnes. She continued over him with her own slow-spreading grin. “No, you’re the old model. You wouldn’t believe what I could do.”

It kept Barnes laughing as he passed her to pull open the door. “Listen, I’ve heard that a thousand times, alright? There’s nothing like the original make. KO in two minutes tops.”

“Yes,” Atonia agreed. “And I will call Captain America to come wake you up afterwards.”

Wilson, across the room, did a commendable job of not looking like he was watching them or listening in. But Lerato also hadn’t looked away from what was, evidently, a very intense game of ping pong. On habit, she cataloged Wilson’s movements, the swings he preferred and his reaction times, the places his eyes darted first. She thought about telling Lerato where to place the ball to get a point, but they weren’t close enough to do so without getting caught and not getting caught was most of the fun.

“Thank you,” she said again to Barnes. “I will call. But not for therapy. You are just like the internet to me.”

Barnes chuckled and nodded. “Fair enough.”

“He’s right about as often as people on the internet are too,” Wilson called, breaking the flimsy illusion that he wasn’t listening in. Somehow, this did not interrupt the ping pong game.

“He is weak low on the dominant side,” Antonia told Lerato.

Lerato unleashed a particularly vicious spin on the ball that had it bouncing just on the other side of the net and spinning away from the table. It hit the wall hard enough to clatter back onto the game table, but Wilson had already straightened himself up with a huff of disappointment.

“I knew that,” Lerato answered, straightening herself so she could turn and grin at Antonia. “But it was good practice.”

Barnes barked out another laugh and leaned against an ornate table that seemed to have no use other than to hold him up. “You two better leave before we start another cold war. Trust me, you don’t want to be on the other side of Sam’s side-eye.”

Wilson glared at him, indeed from the side of his eye. “I do not have a side-eye.”

Barnes just raised an eyebrow at him as Antonia and Lerato let themselves out from the long hallway.

“How did it go?” Lerato asked when the soundproof doors were shut behind them. Antonia had already scanned for electronic devices, though she now felt she knew Barnes enough to know he wouldn’t keep any near him either.

“It was not bad,” Antonia admitted. She would not say the worrying had been for naught. She’d gone in cautious and she thought that helped them establish a baseline with each other.

“He didn’t turn into a giant monster and try to eat you?” Lerato teased.

“Would you have preferred that?”

“It would have made the afternoon interesting.”

As Antonia swept Lerato to the side, holding her close as they fell against a bare wall, Lerato laughed joyously and clung onto her. Even if there was a moment she almost tried to trip Antonia up.

“You would sacrifice me for an interesting afternoon?” Antonia asked in a low, grinning growl.

“Only because I know you’d have no problem holding your own.” Lerato beamed at her. Even the sun wouldn't have been able to compete.

“I’m the bait and the entertainment,” she surmised.

Lerato curled Antonia’s ponytail around two fingers, her others brushing Antonia’s neck. “If I say yes, will you show me?”

Antonia made a noise of agreement deep in the back of her throat and then kissed Lerato until all the rest of the anxiety had escaped her mind. This right here was a future worth having.

#antonia dreykov #bucky barnes #black widow #captain america #winter soldier #marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #taskmaster marvel #taskmaster

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jinwoosungs · 2 years

Text

{ 74 }

the still doll.

lies of p. | au

halloween special; inspired by the horror movie -the boy-

warnings: slight dark themes bc it's technically an early halloween fic.

pinocchio x fem.reader

your friends and peers all called you crazy for actually wanting to fill the job as a nanny at a place that became to be known as the dark manor, but you suppose that desperate times call for desperate measures when you and your family needed the money being offered for simply taking on the job.

besides, you’ve met with mr. geppetto and his wife antonia before, and they were nothing but lovely to you and the local kids. they never once flaunted their wealth and were big donators to the local church. everyone was often curious about their lives and wondered just how they became so wealthy, but never has anyone asked the older couple out of respect.

with what little information you knew about them, you knew that they had a son who liked to keep to himself due to his shyness. because of his innate introverted nature, he was more often than not an elusive figure that spurred a plethora of rumors pertaining to the dark manor. stories liked to circulate, like how the young master of the mansion was born horribly deformed, or had suffered burns that scarred his once beautiful face beyond recognition. that he was so monstrous in appearance that he became the village’s own boogeyman in a sense to the young kids that ran around the city of krat whilst spreading rumors about him.

and this was the same manor where you had accepted the job. you simply answered an ad placed within the city's newspaper, detailing the job of watching over the same son that had so many terrifying rumors pertaining to him. no one was brave enough to take on the job, that is, until you came along.

you had a younger brother who had high hopes of going to school and eventually study to become a doctor. but with what little both you and your parents earned doing odd-end jobs, that dream was simply too much of an impossibility to make into a reality. yet that all changed the moment you saw the ad and quickly responded to it.

with the same newspaper in hand, you feel the carriage you had taken come to an abrupt halt. you clutch at your belongings along with the paper to your chest, eyes widening as you were finally in front of the dark manor's gates.

"we're here, miss."

"thank you, kind sir, for taking me here on such short notice." the carriage driver simply gives you a nod as you slowly let yourself out of it. you smooth back the skirt of your dress with your luggage in tow, feet landing as gracefully as you could manage against the cobblestone streets.

the sunlight was brightly shining as your breath came out as slender white puffs against the winter morning air. you couldn't tear your eyes away from the intimidating manor looming over you, casting somewhat of a shadow over your shivering form. as you wondered just how you could even get into the manor, the gates suddenly began to swing open on its own. mechanical gears were heard screeching as the gates slowly opened, giving you enough space to walk through.

you calm down your racing heart and step forward toward the dark manor, not knowing that you had sealed your fate at that very moment.

------

the door had opened before you could even knock, revealing the elderly couple as they gave you the warmest smile while gently saying your name.

"welcome, dear girl. come, meet our son, pinocchio." the grand door shuts from behind you as antonia gestures at you to take your belongings with you. "i must say, we are most delighted that it was you who took up on this offer to watch over our son while we are away."

"indeed, i'm afraid with what all the little children has been saying about him, our pinocchio is even more reclusive than ever." geppetto's soft chuckle and words makes your heart ache even more for their son whom you had never met.

"so your son's name is pinocchio?"

"yes. a wonderful name for a wonderful boy, if i may say so myself." antonia seemed like the perfect, doting parent, along with geppetto. the way they spoke so highly of their son makes you all the more eager to meet him as you even hoped to become friends with him.

while you followed geppetto and antonia, you had the oddest sensation of being watched. it was enough to make your skin crawl as your ears seemed to pick up every slight crack and movement within the walls. strange, why did it sound like there were rats or something living within their walls? and why would such a wealthy couple allow such rodents to live within them?

before you could even ask, you stopped walking the moment geppetto and antonia leads you into their grand living room, standing almost proudly beside a chair where a young man was settled.

upon finally seeing pinocchio in all of his glory, you felt your knees become weak at the mere sight of him. contrary to how the rumors painted him out to be, the boy settled before you was achingly beautiful. with soft locks of chestnut hair and freckles that decorated his entire face, you found yourself becoming captivated by his sky blue eyes. your mouth became dry, and you weren't sure how to respond.

"this is our precious boy, pinocchio."

you truly were expecting pinocchio to say something, anything to acknowledge your presence-

yet when all you could see was that same vacant stare was when your blood turned to ice.

"again, he's very shy, so we apologize for his silence."

geppetto and antonia must have lost their actual son in a tragic accident, for the only thing you could see propped up against the seat was a hauntingly beautiful still doll.

laughter was felt bubbling from within your throat, whether to hide your sadness for the elderly couple, or just at the fact of how ridiculous this all was, you weren't sure. geppetto's once soft gaze hardens immediately at the sounds of your choked laughter as his wife's attention was preoccupied with what you assumed to be pinocchio's replica.

geppetto takes a hold of your arm, making you drop your luggage as you were forced to follow him. his gaze was grave when he extracts a folded parchment from the confines of his coat, "you must not judge my wife and i so harshly. what you see settled in that chair is indeed our son, and we have put our utmost trust in you when it comes to caring for him."

he unfolds the parchment for you to read, where you now see a list of rules written out:

always read to pinocchio a bedtime story of your choosing, but make sure your voice is loud and clear.

he enjoys listening to records on the record player; always play those records at a loud volume while in the library.

take pinocchio wherever you go when exploring the manor. if you are wanting to make a meal, take him with you into the dining room and always make a portion for him.

by now, your whole mind was spinning. you had to carry that doll wherever you went? and why was he treating that puppet like it was his actual son?

you were so overwhelmed that you didn't even know what to say, or even if you could say anything at all. as if sensing your hesitance, geppetto takes a quick glance at his pocket watch and sighs, "it appears as though antonia and i must get going. i trust you, dear girl, so please, do take care of our precious son. i promise, you shall be rewarded handsomely."

from your periphery, you see pinocchio still settled on the chair with antonia pressing soft kisses across his porcelain skin. despite how frightened you felt, your heartache over how much they missed their son outweighed anything else. meeting geppetto's gaze, you nod and promised him, "i'll take good care of pinocchio."

"that's my girl." he gives you a few pats on your shoulder before joining antonia, "come, my love. everything has been settled."

------

the couple leaves just a couple of hours after your arrival, taking with them a few pieces of luggage before their own carriage whisks them away to god knows where.

you sigh and return back into the living room, somewhat admiring pinocchio. despite how much you knew you should be frightened, or creeped out over seeing something so realistic yet lacking so much life, the sheer beauty of him softened such negative emotions.

without the presence of geppetto and antonia looming over you, you allow yourself the pleasure of fully admiring him. your fingertips ghost over the cold porcelain of his face, tracing at the freckles that dotted his skin.

such attention to detail was something else entirely. despite being a mere doll, he looked so real, so human-like that you could almost convince yourself that he was a living, breathing being. his hair was just as soft as you imagined it to be, and you couldn't stop yourself from looking at him.

a sudden crash coming from within the walls makes your heart suddenly get caught within your throat, causing you to jump away from the still doll. fear suddenly gripped at your heart as you cried out, "who's there?!"

were you going out of your mind, but were footsteps heard coming from the walls? the sounds were so loud as they echoed across the manor that you were certain that those weren't rats that lived within the walls.

this place and this doll-

was it haunted with pinocchio's ghost?

------

the carriage carries the old couple toward a seaside town where they will be spending their remaining time at. geppetto looks over at antonia with concern, wrinkled hands gently gripping at the back of hers.

"are you concerned about our son?"

she closes her eyes with a shake of her head, taking a hold of her husband's hands before answering, "no, of course not. after all, he's loved that girl for a very long time."

"i can think of no other way to make him happy then by bringing her to him."

------

there was no denying that you were scared of staying within the dark manor in close proximity of a potentially haunted doll-

but it was too late to back out now.

a few weeks have passed, and oddly enough, those loud noises within the walls seemed to have stopped. it was as if the ghost of pinocchio (or whoever else) knew that you were scared and didn't want to scare you anymore.

perhaps what you felt was an odd denial, since you couldn't dismiss the strangeness coming from within the manor just yet. wanting to respect geppetto and his wishes, you did follow his rules from day one-

yet unexplained occurrences would happen.

the doll would sometimes appear to move on its own, like how you would find a book to read, or play the record from within the library. you would always set him down on one of the plush couches that were seen scattered throughout the room, only to turn around at upon hearing something move from behind you to see the doll suddenly settled next to you on the floor.

and each time you made meals for you and 'pinocchio,' the plate would disappear without your knowledge and reappear against the kitchen counter, completely devoid of any food.

honestly, all of these odd occurrences were what terrified you even more, but you simply took it in stride and simply went along with your day. thoughts of finally obtaining the money to put your brother through school was what motivated you to continue working as pinocchio's 'nanny.'

you were currently in the kitchen with pinocchio seated on the dining room table, making a hearty stew to help with staving off the cold winter chill felt permeating throughout the mansion. even with the fireplace burning with its embers, it still wasn't enough to warm the entirety of the manor.

as you tasted the broth, you jump upon hearing someone knocking against the back entrance of the manor. you were frozen on the spot from the fear, yet still, your curiosity got the better of you. you step closer to the back entrance and call out, "who's there?!"

"it's me, wick! your grocery delivery boy, remember?!"

oh, he has groceries?

visibly relaxed now, you open the door, seeing a tall and lanky young man with a head of straight, blond hair come in with two baskets filled with what looked like vegetables and meats. he sees you for the first time and does a double take, "whoa, i didn't think old man geppetto also had a daughter!"

"oh, i-i'm not his daughter, i'm just uhm, the hired help."

his eyebrows shoot up in a questioning glance, "hired help? whatever would they need help for?"

you debated on whether to tell him or not, yet jumped when you saw the sight of a familiar doll from your periphery. "ah! pinocchio, how do you keep doing that?!"

the man you assumed named wick follows your gaze to see pinocchio. "aw geez, don't tell me that crazy old man made you watch over that doll?"

“that’s disrespectful of you to say. isn’t this doll based on their son?”

wick then gives you an expression that made you feel like you were some insane person. “not that i know of. listen, my folks and i have always been delivering our produces to geppetto and his wife, and i’ve never seen any sons. just that doll.”

you grimace upon hearing his words, loosening your grip on pinocchio upon hearing the supposed truth from him, "still, don't say that or else you'll upset him. you may not have seen anyone, but maybe they lost him at a young age. here, i'll take care of putting away the foods you graciously delivered."

you attempt to shoo him out of the manor, but there was only so much you can do when he stops moving, planting his feet down against the marble flooring, "now wait a minute, it just doesn't feel right for me to leave such a pretty lady like you all alone like this."

"huh?!" you were flabbergasted upon hearing his words. was he actually trying to court you right now?!

“it seems like you’ve been stuck here for quite some time now, and i just wanted to give you a chance to get out of here and explore krat.” he winks at you, holding out a hand for you to take. thinking nothing of it, you place pinocchio in your other hand and expected wick to shake yours, only to be even more caught off guard when he takes it to press a gentle kiss against the back of it.

his actions make the blood rush to your cheeks, as you struggled to find the words to say.

“the name’s lampwick, m’lady, and i do hope that you give me a chance to take you out of the manor come tomorrow morning.”

you sigh, debating on whether to accept wick’s offer. at the end of it, you smile and give him a nod in agreement. it would be best to try and get out of the manor to avoid having you go crazy and develop some type of cabin fever.

“alright, i’ll explore the city with you, lampwick.” just as you sweetly tell him your name, you were both completely unaware of the shadowy figure that watched the entirety of your interaction with their nails digging into the palms of their hands.

------

you didn’t know why you had such a difficult time falling asleep that night.

perhaps it was the way your heart was racing with anticipation, excited at the thought of exploring krat without being stuck within the dark manor.

with the spare keys to the manor in your possession, you promised lampwick to meet him outside of the manor’s gates in the morning, further completing your plans of exploring the city with the young man.

you didn’t bring too many clothes with you, since you didn’t think you would be doing much outside of the manor, but since the opportunity came up, you figured that there’d be nothing wrong with taking it. as you spread out the clothes you had on your bed, you heard the sound of something clicking, catching your attention.

was that the door?!

you were panicking, heart beating wildly out of your chest when you tried to open your door, only to realize that it was somehow locked from the outside.

“no no no no, please, let me out!” you were screaming, pounding at the door while jostling at the doorknob, only to feel a sense of dread fill you when it wouldn’t budge.

this was crazy, absolutely crazy. there wasn’t supposed to be anyone else within this manor except you and that still doll-

unless-

“pinocchio, is he keeping me trapped here on purpose?”

you clench your eyes shut, banishing such silly thoughts from the confines of your mind when you continue crying out for help all while banging at the door.

admittedly, you became delirious with exhaustion at the end of it all...

you didn’t know when you had fallen asleep while slumped against the door, but by the time you had awoken, the sun was at its peak, letting you know that it was well into the afternoon now and that you had completely missed out on meeting lampwick.

with your body aching and your stomach growling due to hunger, you try to twist the doorknob once more-

only for it to finally open, revealing the still doll you had been paid to watch over settled in front of you. upon closer inspection, you saw that he had a folded piece of parchment settled on his legs. with shaky hands, you kneel down before him and unfold the parchment to read two simple words written in a neat script:

please stay.

------

you were terrified, and you wanted nothing more than to go home.

by now, you were sure lampwick was immensely upset with you for not meeting him that morning, and he had no reason to come back into the manor since he had already delivered the groceries for the month.

you weren’t familiar with the city, and you didn’t have enough money for a carriage back home. you were stuck here, with no clues as to when geppetto and antonia would return.

the still doll seemed to haunt you in every waking moment, and the beauty that you once admired turned stale and dark each time you looked at him.

you tried to follow the rules so as to not upset pinocchio’s ghost, but it was so hard for you to hide your fear.

and tonight was no exception.

you ended up staying in the living room with pinocchio settled on the same seat where you had first met him all those weeks ago. when you thought back on how sorry you felt for the elderly couple and the loss of their son-

but then recalled how lampwick was so certain that there wasn’t any son to speak of,

it simply succeeds in deepening your fears.

“i don’t know what else to say other then i am terrified of you, pinocchio.” you shiver, rubbing your arms with your hands as you paced around, never taking your eyes away from him. “regardless of how beautiful you are, i can’t deny how all this strangeness and mystery surrounding you scares me so much-”

the loud sounds of glass shattering breaks you out of your nervous rants, eyes widening when you tried to figure out where it had come from.

you end up running up the stairs towards the hallways, gasping to see three hooded figures wearing what looked like crudely made bunny masks entering the manor.

“hehehe, this is going to be our easiest heist yet.” the tallest one with the most broadest chest exclaims with glee.

“oh, and i see our little princess is right where we want her, too.” the second, more slender one lets out a chuckle as the shortest one digs their elbow into his sides, “shut up and let’s get rid of her already so we can get started!” it was clearly a woman from the slight trill of her voice, and they were all ganging up on you.

you whimper, knowing that this was probably going to be the end for you. you couldn’t do anything to stop the tears, nor could you scream as your voice seemed to be lost due to your panicked state.

“please, stop, don’t hurt me. you can take whatever is in this manor, just please-!”

suddenly, the sounds of footsteps pounding against the walls becomes stronger and stronger, seeming to increase in its crescendo, catching the burglars off guard as they take a step back away from you.

“the hell? what is that?”

“i thought you said the manor was empty save for that girl and stupid doll!”

“it WAS empty, so what is-”

the sounds of the walls cracking open was getting stronger, and you turn to your right to see the walls slowly split open as a man breaks out from it.

he jumps in front of you, and from that quick glimpse you caught of him, you were able to see startling blue eyes and a freckled face, the same face the puppet shared, but a slightly older version.

the man was dressed extremely well, in a navy blue vest with flowers embroidered within the fabric with dark pants. his shoes were made of the most expensive leather, and you were shocked to find a sword settled within his right hand.

he takes a protective stance in front of you, acting as a shield between you and the burglars.

“this is bad, why does he look exactly like that damn doll?”

the mysterious man doesn’t answer, giving you a brief glance when he tells you, “cover your eyes and ears, my love.”

the moment he raises his sword, you clench your eyes shut and fall down to your knees, keeping both hands pressed tightly against your ears. even with your best efforts, you still heard the loud grunts and groans coming from the young man as the burglars did their best to fight him off-

only to fail within minutes.

the sounds of three bodies falling makes you shiver before you felt yourself being picked up in someone’s arms. you gasp, clinging to the same mysterious man who had saved you as he shields you away from the sight of the fallen bodies. “are you alright, my love?”

you tremble, unable to think straight when you manage to ask, “who are you?”

he smiles, and you couldn’t stop trembling at the splattered blood that littered his features, seeming to mimic his freckles as they seemed to pop out from against his pale face. “i am the same pinocchio you have been caring for, and now i shall be your future husband.”

you couldn’t stop your shivering, unable to look away from him. if you believed his replica was achingly beautiful, then seeing the real person in front of your very eyes was an entirely different experience. his face was so angelic, and his voice, dear god his voice-

it was sinfully deep, as smooth as velvet, and you found yourself becoming even more drawn to him.

“b-but, what about my family? my brother?”

the real pinocchio continues to carry you all while letting out a rich chuckle, “not to worry, my love, for when you become my wife, i shall give you all of my riches. that shall be more than enough to provide for your family."

you knew you should be terrified of the mysterious man who spent most of his life living within the walls of the dark manor and took down three grown adults with ease-

but you couldn’t do so. more so than the fear was the feeling of deep intrigue at the knowledge of his existence. so all those strange occurrences were because he had been real this whole time-

and looking at him now, you couldn’t tear your gaze away from him, even when he places his thumb to caress at your bottom lip.

“please stay.” he repeats the same words he had written to you, making your eyes widen as the warmth returns back to your cheeks.

you were absolutely enchanted by him, you were sure of it as you found it harder and harder to try and look away from him. he kept smiling down at you, appearing so soft and gorgeous that it takes your very breath away.

“i’ll stay.” you finally tell him, forever sealing your fate as being tied to him, the hauntingly beautiful still doll now come to life.

a.n. - i decided to write and post this early bc i had a stressful day, and wanted to cheer myself up by writing another lies of p pinocchio story ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ this was a fully written story of the anon who gave me the prompt to write a lies of p story based on The Boy ♡ hope it met your expectations dear anon!

currently unedited, but i'm too excited to finally post this 😌

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

#liesofp x reader #lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader #.stories

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sxugaryx · 3 months

Text

Maniac (Fanfic)

New Chapter ❤️

It's raining outside, and the storm is too heavy for Pinocchio to go out anywhere so he is staying inside Hotel Krat, it's a shame because he is almost done with most of what he needs to do but the great thing is that he gets to spend more time with his father.

Everyone is downstairs trying to make small talk to distract themselves from the storm, the loud sound of thunders resonating from time to time. Pinocchio stays too close to his father, the boy does not know the meaning of personal space, he looks like a baby koala by the way he clings to his father, but no one says anything about it.

“I am glad to know that Simon has been defeated,” Venigni said, Pinocchio had told them all about it.

Well, he skipped a few details but they didn't ask for a deeper explanation.

Venigni turned to look at Geppetto “But, we still don't know the reason for the frenzy” he was at a loss for words, he couldn't decode that message and Pinocchio said he couldn't hear anything when asked, “Any idea of what could had happened”

“I have no idea Venigni” Geppetto lied.

“But you have to think of something, anything!” Venigni was desperate and Geppetto knew way more than him about the creation of the puppets, “Surely if you analyzed the Ergo wavelengths yourself you could be able to tell better than me”

“Mmm Father doesn't want to talk about it” Pinocchio hugged his father with even more force.

Venigni knows how stressful the investigation can be, and maybe that's why Pinocchio is worried, “Pinocchio I understand that you don't want your father to feel stressed but-”

*Hiss*

There was an awkward silence for a few seconds.

Pinocchio made another hissing sound and stared at Venigni intensely, that was his cue to back down.

“I'm sorry” Venigni doesn't know why he is apologizing but he feels as if he should.

Geppetto doesn't seem to mind that his son just did that, frankly, he is relieved because Venigni doesn't shut up about what caused the frenzy and it was getting on his nerves. He did it all to bring Carlo back and he would do it again, Carlo means the world to him. So does Pinocchio, although lately, he has been on edge thinking about what their life will be like once this is over, hopefully, Pinocchio doesn't get too jealous of Carlo.

“I'm bored” Pinocchio doesnt like just sitting and talking, “I want to play something”

Gepetto gives out a sigh, “Son then go to your room and play with your toys”

“What toys?” Venigni asks instinctively and immediately regrets it covering his mouth.

Pinocchio stops holding his father, saying how he will be back soon, too soon, he comes back carrying…

“What… what is that…?” Antonia starts shaking, she can't believe what she is seeing.

“A toy I made, I call him Mortis” Because of rigor mortis. Pinocchio grabbed a carcass and sealed it inside a puppet, the thing was unable to move by itself, Pinocchio moved the limbs of the thing as if he were moving a doll, and everyone could hear muffled screaming from the inside of the creature. Thankfully the other toys were normal toys, like a teddy bear and some wooden figurines.

“I know!” Pinocchio had a lightbulb going in his head, “We could all play together!”

NO NO NO, Everyone was staring daggers at Venigni he just had to ask.

“Oh well dear, I am not in any condition to play” Antonia even coughed a little to make it more convincing “And Polendina can't play either, someone has to keep an eye on me”

“I um, I-” Eugénie needed to think of an excuse and fast, so she stood up and pretended to go to her station to find something, then she took off her glasses and pretended they fell onto the floor, “Oh no, my glasses are broken now, I, unfortunately, can't see well, its a shame but I can't play like that”

Pulcinella simply decided to turn himself off, he wasn't going to deal with that, his master Venigni could make him wake up later.

“Hey Pinocchio listen” Venigni started to speak up.

Oh hell no, Geppetto knows he isn't going to play with his son alone and this is all Venigni's fault.

“How wonderful that you finally have something to do Venigni, since you mention all the time how boring things get here” Geppetto smiled, “I know that a genius like you has a great imagination, I beat playing with Pinocchio is just what you needed”

Venigni can't protest as Pinocchio forcefully drags him to another room so they can play together and Geppetto soon follows. Although he isn't actually playing, he watches and tells Pinocchio from time to time what a good boy he is, like when parents take their kids to the park and read a book while their kid does something else.

Thankfully, the rain starts to die down, and Pinocchio knows that he has to leave, he still has some unfinished business so he starts getting ready.

“Great job Venigni, maybe if I ever need a babysitter for him I'll give you a call” Geppetto would love to take a break from time to time, parenting is hard.

“Are you joking?” Venigni can't believe what he is hearing.

“Venigni” Geppetto is giving him an intense stare, “I love him but I can only take so much by myself”

Geppetto took off his shirt for a moment to reveal that his back has dozens of scratch marks, each time Pinocchio hugs him, each time with more force than the last.

Pinocchio had just changed his legion arm and Venigni could immediately tell something was wrong, Pinocchio never uses Falcon Eyes despite all the adjustments he has made to the weapon because “shooting things makes them die fast and that’s not fun”

Because he doesn’t want to confront the boy directly he signals to Geppetto who is downstairs with them to ask instead.

Geppetto put back his shirt. “Son, are you doing something special again?”

“I am” Pinocchio was filling his bag with legion magazines he didn’t want to run out of power.

Pinocchio rushed to give his father a big hug, and to bite him again. He wants to say a proper goodbye to his father, the boy puts his hand on the stargazer and says a few words before leaving.

“It’s rabbit season”

It was quiet for a few seconds before Geppetto spoke up.

“Look he didn’t draw blood this time, he is finally learning to behave better,” Geppetto said as he pointed at his neck.

Venigni puts his hands on his face, he doesn’t know what’s worse how Geppetto is so accepting of that or how the man is right.

——

The Black Rabbit Brotherhood hadn’t heard from their client, what a great deal right? They were struggling now that their brother was dead and they needed to do something, so they decided to take back the Mallum District, more people had come since the time they left and that meant more money to collect, it was easy to get it back as there was no one was able to stop them.

But they needed to up their defenses, they couldn’t underestimate that damn puppet anymore, they filled the place with traps and even more monsters.

Traps and monsters that Pinocchio got rid of easily.

“You know pal, I’m starting to think you are a one-man or rather one-puppet army at this point” Gemini is starting to believe that not even armed soldiers could hold him back.

“I’m just being a good son Gemini”

They had stolen the painting of Carlo, that painting that was so precious to his father, his father was almost crying with joy when he got it back. Pinocchio will make them pay for making their father upset.

“What a dutiful son you are buddy”

As they are walking by the Mallum district something catches Pinocchio’s eyes, in one of the bars there is a small figure of a cricket.

“Look Gemini, like you!” Pinocchio grabs the little figurine and grabs Gemini so that he can see it properly. It’s a more realistic-looking cricket but it is cute. “Do you want it?”

“Yeah sure” Gemini has a collection of “friends”, miniature dolls or figurines that Pinocchio has or even makes sometimes. Gemini keeps them inside his tiny house and plays pretend with them. It distracts him from when Pinocchio is doing his life experiments in his room, well that’s how it started but he is actually enjoying it more and more these days.

Eventually, Pinocchio makes it to the Mallum District City Hall, where the Brotherhood had been expecting him. Pinocchio couldn’t have come here from the Hotel, first because the Brotherhood destroyed the elevator and second because the boy likes to play with his prey before attacking.

“We will avenge our brother no matter what” The three of them were ready.

“And I will revenge my father”

“That phrase doesn’t make sense you dumb puppet,” The Eccentric brother said, “It’s I will take revenge for my father”

“Who isn’t even dead mind you” The Battle Manic set his weapon on fire, “But he will be when we are done with you”

“But first we will make sure you are sent in pieces in a coffin directly at the Hotel’s Doors” The Youngest was sharping her weapons, “Let’s break your fancy springs and gears”

They talked a big game but as usual, Pinocchio defeated them, but he kept them alive, as he wanted to play his fun little game, he got close to the three of them, and after disarming them he activated Sophia’s pocket watch, sending him back to the last stargazer he was at. Not the one in the district but rather the one in the path of pilgrim. All of them were left in there, standing in the dirt, although the Brotherhood could barely stand.

“What do you think you are doing?” The Battle Manic said while catching his breath.

Pinocchio took out a different pocket watch, one he had made himself in the shape of a heart, made out of parts of puppets he had destroyed.

“You have five minutes”

“For what?!” The Youngest tried to attack Pinocchio but he kicked her into the floor as if it was nothing.

“To run” Pinocchio had a twisted grin on his face.

“You deranged lunatic we aren’t playing your stupid game” The Eccentric brother used all of his force to stand up.

“Four minutes”

The Battle Manic stood up as well, “We aren’t going to run away”

Both brothers helped their sister get back up, the 3 of them tried to attack Pinocchio as well but they were thrown into the floor once more, they had no weapons and they were weak.

“Three minutes”

“You two, run!” The Battle Manic brother was gasping for air again, he had been beaten up too badly that he wouldn’t be able to run at all, “Just save yourselves”

“We aren’t cowards we won’t leave!” The Youngest wanted to attack Pinocchio again but her brother grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

“We need to get the hell out of here now!” The Eccentric brother knew that it was over, but that maybe the two of them could survive, survive, and forget all of this. Start a new life and live for their brother's sake.

“Two minutes”

Reluctantly, they ran away, running towards the opposite direction of the Cathedral, going back to the district was a dead end, and sure enough, after two minutes passed, they heard the sound of a loud piercing gunshot in the hair, followed by an explosion.

They could hear Pinocchio running towards them, so they picked up the pace, once inside the Cathedral, both siblings managed to make it to the entrance, before Pinocchio caught up to them, he fired one shot and made a direct hit with the Eccentric brother.

The Youngest had no time to grief, no time to look back, she kept running, hearing the loud screaming of her brother as he died as well, maybe this was her punishment, she was the one who had taunted Pinocchio the most and now he was toying with her just as she claimed she would toy with him.

She was the fastest, the most agile, and she could do this, she ran and ran until she couldn’t hear Pinocchio’s rapid footsteps anymore. Making it onto the railway and getting in, catching her breath inside, once was was down in moonlight town she would need to pass towards Venigni works, she knows a shortcut around the factory, she can get away, she can…

“Surprise”

Pinocchio had used Sophia’s pocket watch to return to the stargazer, and from there he activated it to go to the one in Moonlight Town.

The Youngest sibling of the Black Rabbit Brother didn’t have any last words, she just fell to her knees and wept, as Pinocchio aimed the gun directly at her chest.

—-

Everything was too quiet inside Hotel Krat, Pinocchio had returned from whatever he was doing but the atmosphere was peaceful, too peaceful. But Pinocchio was in a great mood maybe they shouldn’t question that, he was acting calm, normal even.

He was handing down a few gifts he had made, normal gifts, special music boxes he had made for everyone.

For Eugenie the box had a cat in the middle sleeping, spinning in a bed as the music played, on the inside of the box was a painting of a sunrise.

For Antonia the box had two people dancing in the middle, one was her and the other was Polendina, they spun together as the music played, and the painting on the inside was of a beautiful garden.

When Pinocchio got to Venigni he smiled because his fun uncle gets two gifts.

“Two gifts? How kind of you my friend”

First Pinocchio gave him something he didn’t make and Venigni recognized it instantly.

“This toy, how did you?…”

Pinocchio played with his now white hair, he had found Arlecchino when he went to the abbey to free Sophia, who was currently sleeping in his room. She is taking an even bigger nap than he took when he rescued her.

The King of Riddles was furious at him because Pinocchio is a good boy and his father told him not to answer the phone to strangers he would always hang up each time he heard Arlecchino’s voice. Each time he had found a trinity door he just broke them with his legion arm, they were just normal locked doors it wasn’t hard at all.

Pinocchio let him rant for a few minutes before he took the toy from him and left the room, sealing it shut, he didn’t bother to take his Ergo, he wanted to let him rot in there forever.

“I have my ways~” Pinocchio extended his hand and gave Venigni the other gift. A music box that had a miniature of the moon warrior toy in the middle, the painting in the box was of space.

Venigni hugged Pinocchio and let out a few tears.

“Thank you much”

Pinocchio smiled, today had been a great day.

“I’ll be back!” Pinocchio ran out of the room, he made something great for his father but this time it wasn’t something he built but rather something he cooked.

“I made this for you” Pinocchio knows how hard his father works, he had just finished the two P organs his brother and Romeo needed and that was a hard task, so he decided to make him some food.

It was a soup, and it smelled delicious, although Geppetto was a bit skeptical since Pinocchio had never cooked before.

“I made it with lots of love” Pinocchio’s voice was too sweet and Geppetto couldn’t resist that.

Geppetto tasted it and the food was actually great, tasted as good as it smelled.

“Son, this is delicious, what is it?”

“Rabbit Stew”

At that moment, Geppetto knew, his eyes grew wide and he looked at the soup, he moved it around a bit with the spoon to find a human finger.

Everyone else realized the truth and quickly fled, Eugénie shouting how she needed to bathe Spring, Polendina wheeling away Lady Antonia so that she can have a proper rest and Venigni claiming that Pulcinella was having some issues related to him being broken by Fueco and that he needed to get that check out immediately.

“Go on” Pinocchio took a few steps closer to his father, “Don’t you like it?”

Geppetto felt as if he was going to have a heart attack but the look on Pinocchio’s face… so innocent, so naive and he did this to make him happy so he has no choice.

——

It was almost time to go to bed, although Sophia had just woken up at this point but she still felt so tired, Pinocchio didn’t want to kick her out of his room but he needed to sleep next to his father each night, Sophia didn’t mind sleeping in another room, in fact she felt more at ease without having to open her eyes and look at a ceiling filled with guts.

Pinocchio was kneeling next to the black box, he removed the lock and the chain and opened the box. Just as he promised he would open the box when both were no longer mad, and everything worked out perfectly, both were given new hearts by his father and were good as new, Carlo even gave a big hug to his father, it made Pinocchio a little jealous but what mattered is that his brother was no longer holding a grudge against father.

But both were too exhausted to celebrate, Carlo and Romeo grabbed a room for them to sleep in, enjoying not having to be in that box they chose a 5-star suite where they could both have plenty of space to sleep in properly.

Now it was just Pinocchio’s turn to go to bed, his father looked really tired and fell asleep quickly. Pinocchio lay in bed next to him and hugged his father gently, snuggling closer to him.

He had accomplished all his goals, he could have a happy family, he was just missing one last thing.

The next morning, when everyone woke up, the Hotel residents were shocked to see Carlo, Romeo, and Sophia there. They briefly explained the situation and there were a lot of mixed feelings, specially about Geppetto starting the frenzy but all together were wondering the same thing.

Where were Pinocchio and Geppetto?

By now at least one of them should have come downstairs. As they were thinking about this they were greeted by Gemini who was outside his cage, it had taken him time to come downstairs with what he was holding.

It was a letter that Pinocchio had left for Carlo specifically, Carlo picked it up and read it out loud.

——📘——

“Dear brother,

I’m so happy you are back and that you are no longer mad, I just want you and Father to get along, I want us to live a normal life. ໒꒰ྀི ˊᗜˋ* ꒱ྀིა

As much as I love Father I know he hasn’t been the best, he made a lot of mistakes, but I love him no matter what, I know you feel the same as well, that you were just hurt and didn’t mean to be angry. (◞‸◟ㆀ)

But don’t worry I know the best way to make everything better, as I said, I will fix Father and when I’m done we can live our happily ever after, and be the family we were always meant to be.

With tons of love, Pinocchio ♡ “

——📘——

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