My Grandpas Deck Has No Pathetic Cards Dottore, But It Does Have, The Unstoppable Exodia!

Weeping clown and Mike falling for a modern reader? Please i missed you!!

hmmm i love the circus gang so much you have no idea

Character(s): Acrobat, Weeping Clown

Content: modern reader hcs A/N: I am almost sure that I got this request before I went on summer break because it looked SUPER familiar. However, when I opened my requests again, my inbox was empty. So I think this was either sent in twice or was eaten by Tumblr. Either way, here it is

Mike

You’re from the future?! That’s so cool?!?

Listen, he may be traumatized as hell from having to identify a dozen burned dead bodies, losing his home and all his family, but that doesn’t mean he can’t be excited about literal time travel. 

Asks you about everything. Every fucking thing. The villain arc will be temporarily delayed.

Well, once the excitement dies down somewhat you’ll still have to deal with the fact that out of the five stages of grief, this man is stuck in anger. But that’s for later to deal with

Would love to see a spring base cotton candy machine

Would love to have witnessed modern cinema

and all those crazy carnival rides nowadays? How did no one die riding those. From what you describe, everyone in the future must be crazy

He treats the reality you come from much more like a story in a fantasy book rather than an actual possibility

Not to say he doesn't believe you, he just can't quite picture it. It sounds exciting though, certainly does

He listens to you talk about your timeline like a child listening to a bedtime story. Outside of that though, he will ignore it entirely.

This occasionally leads to moments where he just does not understand that you have different views or opinions on things based on the knowledge and standards of your varying times.

This sometimes even extends to scientific discoveries, but not as often because he doesn't care for science much

He also doesn't think about what might be or could be or would be in the future. You're probably never going to leave the manor anyway, so who cares which time you'd end up in

It doesn't matter to him, because he has nothing to go back to in his, and nothing to look forward to in your timeline. He has nothing. No matter where he ends up, he'd have to start over. Start from scratch. As long as he's in the manor, with you, the two of you will at least have that.

That's not so bad, is it?

Weeping Clown

Initially very confused about the fact that you came from literally another century

He’s more hesitant with his questions, more focused on trying to understand you and the world you come from rather than be entertained by all the changes that happened.

Honestly, I could see him at some point just being over the fact that you’re from a different time. Like, once he knows all he needs to know it doesn’t matter to him much anymore. Sure, your circumstances and the ideals and standards you grew up with majorly influenced you, and helped to shape you into the magnificent, amazing human being he loves so much but that’s all that matters to him: Who you are right now.

Would definitely love to see this Youtube thing you keep going on about though. He’s very intrigued

Finds that clowns aren't exactly popular anymore so maybe it's good that he lived in the times when he lived because boy would he have lost his job fast

However, apparently, no one can just go out and buy acid anymore, so that's definitely a plus

Based on what you told him, circus 'culture' changed a lot. Not it's more about performance and tricks than wild animals and laughing at 'grotesque' humans.

He thinks it makes sense then that you are as kind as you are, the time you come from is much kinder as well.

But still, he thinks that, if one day you get out of the manor, and maybe get to leave together to witness your time, then he would feel terribly out of place. Your eyes shine whenever you excitedly talk about the advancements of the future, all the good things in your world. All those are things he wouldn't understand. Perhaps it's better then, that you are trapped here. Because at least you are trapped here together, as opposed to a future where inevitably, he'd end up left behind.

goddess of wisdom, master of war

It means he likes you

please do write an essay about wanderer one day i would love to read it <3

i love you. he is so <3 (essay under the cut because im crazy)

scara/wanderer/whatever you want to call him is so interesting to me because like. out of the train wreck that was inazuma, he managed to be one of the only well-written characters. and he wasn't even on the playable roster for that nation. incredible. why was inazuma so bad

in a way, his character actually functions to draw attention to a lot of the problems i personally have with the way ei/raiden and inazuma are written, namely that ei sucks and never sees a single consequence for her actions or even like. tries to fix her mistakes in any tangible way. Scaramouche was her prototype puppet, meant to be a test run for the eventual figurehead for inazuma which would run on unchangeable ideals while ei fucked off to her mind palace forever. he was not actually used for this purpose because ei saw him CRY and decided he wasn't fit to rule a country, and instead of like... idk doing anything RATIONAL with him she was just like ok. i'll let him sleep forever i guess. surely he will not wake up and resent me for this and turn evil. anyway. obviously he wakes up and realizes why mama ei abandoned him. he of course does not take this well. he internalizes the idea that his emotions made him weak and useless from. basically the moment of his conception. his emotional response is the reason he wass essentially abandoned by his mother. (to be fair, it's unclear if ei was aware that he retained consciousness, but still. throwing him out like trash because he had EMOTIONS was fucked up). this sets the stage for the way his mental state deteriorates over the course of the next couple hundred years.

so the poor kid has been abandoned by his mother for feeling things. bad start. but another important piece of this story is that, as per ei's original design for a puppet figurehead of inazuma, scara was essentially built to house her gnosis (essentially the heart of an archon.) since he never actually got used for that purpose, though, he feels as though he is missing a fundamental part of himself. as he wanders inazuma, he feels that lack of a heart harder and harder as he attempts to connect to humans and finds that he can't quite connect with them. (this is what i think of as his 'trying to be human' era) He struggles with the idea of mortality--specifically, a child that he befriends dies prematurely, and scara can't help but view it as a betrayal--"how could he break his promise and leave me behind?" he becomes acutely aware of the fact that he is not quite human and not quite god, but something in between--something that lacks the ability to feel like a human but was too emotional to fulfil its purpose as a god.

mortality and emotional response, to scara, become signs of weakness. he was discarded due to his emotionalness. his human friends' mortality took them from him. he grows to despise and reject both, which kickstarts his 'trying to be a god era,' which is how we've seen him in-game thus far. the thing is, he doesn't REALLY want to be a god. he wants to be loved. he wants validation and respect and family--everything that was taken away from him when ei threw him out, and when his human friends abandoned him. he tried it one way, tried playing pretend as a human, and only found more pain and suffering, so he decides to swing hard in the other direction, developing a superiority complex as a cover-up for his insane abandonment issues. No one can hurt a god. no one can abandon a god. no one can call a god weak. a god doesn't need friends or family or love because a god is all-powerful. he is convinced that if only he can attain true godhood--a gnosis, the item he was created to house, he will FINALLY be happy. and he decides that it doesn't matter how many people he has to hurt to do it.

(btw, throughout this entire time, ei has been in her mind palace being a deadbeat mom and deliberately ignoring the havoc her son is wreaking on the nation SHE IS SUPPOSED TO BE RUNNING. he even sends a message of introduction to the raiden shogun at some point ("tell her my name is kunikuzushi") which i can only assume was meant to make it back to ei and maybe get her to CARE A LITTLE BIT ABOUT THE KID SHE BROKE but she either never recieved it because the raiden shogun sucks equally as hard as she does or she heard it and didn't care. ughhhh.)

anyway. obviously this little insane attempt at attaining godhood does not end well for scara. i cant rewatch that sumeru archon quest cutscene without losing all brain function but you know what i mean. he fucks up. his hubris is his downfall. his attempt to bury his emotions and his humanity in order to ascend to godhood give him far too much confidence, and he loses the battle. nahida takes the gnosis and then fucking immediately gives it back to dottore because she sucks. scara's final attempt at finding some sort of place for himself in the world fails spectacularly and leaves him mentally and physically destroyed.

and in 3.3 he is going to wake up and keep going. and i am so so so so excited. i want to know how he heals. I want to see him reconcile with his humanity and his emotions AND with his origins in godhood, and i think having nahida and the traveler help him do that is gonna be so good if they do it right. i LOVE that they're allowing him to still retain a lot of that selfishness and smugness and attitude that makes him compelling as a villain, while ALSO seemingly letting him reconnect with his humanity and become better. i do still hope he gets to beat the shit out of ei tho

Hazbin Hotel but it is told by Shrek clips

i got lazy

kaedehara kazuha and the bad bitch he pulled by fighting his mom

Oh yeah also I love the Idea that the protag turns around a corner, sees some ghost shit happening right in front of him and is completely unfazed by it, calmly pulls out his notebook just to write down something like "scary girl climbing around walls in hall 3" then continues on his merry way without really acknowledging anything that just happened.

hee-min is made of pure Video Game Protagonist

Blood runs thicker than water.

lies of p paring: pinocchio x reader word count: 1159 cw: angst :], mentions of death, blood, beyond canon-typical violence i think, rage frenzy

a/n: welcome to my first real post on this account. i've been obsessed over pinocchio from lies of p since i started the game, then i started listening to chloe ament... you can probably see where this is going. hope you enjoy.

Emotions were not as elusive as they had previously been for the man-made puppet and yet, in this moment, he couldn't identify a singular one he felt. There had been a rush of worry, fright, and terror. But now it was an invasive mess.

His skin reacted to the slight breeze that blew past him, a shiver breaking him from his frozen stance.

Still, he wished for the sight before him to be one of the lies he'd thrown around.

Approaching the scene, Pinocchio would stumble, an imperfection to his typically faultless cadence. The ground below him squelched with wet mud as he did so, a distant sound to his eerily still mind. The loudest noise to him was the rising tempo of his mechanically heart, it rang in his ears, obscuring the sounds of pattering rain and squished mud.

Before him was you, pale as your blood had drained from your face.

You were posed on your knees, arms dangling loosely by your sides as a sword held you up, struck through your chest and into the muddied ground below. Pinocchio's glass eyes trailed the blade of the sword, every few inches was an extended notch of the blade, permitting the relatively upright position you'd been laid to rest in. A wooden sign hung with rope from the hilt of the blade,

Puppet Fucker. It read.

His hurricane of emotions came to an eerie calm.

The dark-haired puppet would take the rest of the paces to you, kneeling by your lifeless form. Pulling the sign from the hilt of the blade and tossing it into the muddied ground below, Pinocchio would do a once-over of your body.

Your shirt was torn, multiple wounds bedded into your skin, signs of struggle ripped across your hands. Your blade was broken in half, a few feet from your person. Your hair was matted and stuck to your face. He watched as the rain paved its path down your skin, some pooling in your stuck-open eyes before sliding down your cheeks. If he had known any better, he'd have guessed you'd been sad.

The puppet would reach forward, silently pressing the pads of his fingers against your top eyelids, pulling them down to finally let you rest your eyes.

A breath escaped him, fogging the air between you and him.

Slowly, Pinocchio would place a hand against your back, then his other between your thighs and calves. Bringing himself to his feet, you'd rest in the bridal position he held you in just a year prior. The tone of that moment was much more pleasant to bask in.

One step at a time, Pinocchio found his way back to the hotel.

He'd kick the door open with a lack of urgency, your fate had been sealed hours before.

Trekking mud, rain water, and dead city grime onto the shiny floors of the hotel, Pinocchio would approach the central Stargazer.

The first to notice him was Sophia, gasping in horror at the large, notched blade sworn through your chest. Antonia, from the other room, would advert her gaze, a solemn expression Pinocchio couldn't read overcoming her face. Eugenie had frozen, leaving Venigni to look around the corner of the wall. Shock was quickly present in his features.

Finally, Pinocchio's eyes would leave your form, his eyes coming into contact with Sophia's, a silent plead shifting his expression. No words were needed in the exchange, a nod coming from her as soon as she saw his face.

Your funeral was small, held in the garden of the hotel. The guest list didn't expand beyond the residents of the safe space, no one of your biological family lived beyond you.

Pinocchio stayed the latest of everyone, knelt by your makeshift headstone, fingers lightly tracing the dirt before it.

The calm of the storm hadn't passed, he'd been near numb to the entirety of it all, earning him a few concerned glances from Gepetto and Sophia. He knew the two of them shared their worries behind his back whenever they could.

He had given the sword to Venigni and Eugenie to inspect, perhaps find its maker, or better yet, who wielded it.

Venigni had an answer two days later. Pinocchio hadn't moved much until given the information he desired. Slowly, and in a fashion that near scared the philanthropist, the puppet rose. His glass eyes trailed the blade Eugenie held behind Venigni. He approached. Carefully, as to not hurt the woman, Pinocchio would take the sword into his palms.

The metal made a horrifying screech as it bent, Pinocchio's Legion Arm doing the majority of the work. When the sword was rendered useless, the puppet would move forward, back into the luxury of Hotel Krat.

He was working out his lack of emotions while he moved, it wasn't a numbness like he had before he began gaining humanity.

It was a silent, simmering rage.

The atmosphere surrounding the puppet was enough to alert Sophia, she started to interject as he approached the Stargazer, but his human-like arm had already reached the glowing center piece.

In a moment he was back to the creepily empty streets of the city, a new mission on his mind.

Pinocchio tore through any puppet trying to attack him on his path, his rapier tearing their arms from their torsos, or their heads from their necks. Oil and Ergo splattered against his clothes and face, nothing the rain couldn't wash away.

Eventually, Pinocchio would kick in the door of a luxurious-looking mansion, the wooden door splintering from its hinges and loudly clattering against marble floors.

Eyes scanning the foyer was nearly enough to send him into a rage. Weapons, all custom made lined themselves against the walls, a list of names under each of them. For some, names were crossed out, for others, the names laid untouched. Though, as Pinocchio entered further into the quiet of the mansion, he'd find his eyes traveling to the central stairs at the back of the main room.

Your name, printed in bold, crossed with a red line, lay under an empty sword mount. Next to your name, under a sword mount with a plain blade, was Pinocchio's, untouched.

A few claps would pull the puppet from his stare, as a man came down the upper level of stairs.

Pinocchio's mechanical heart beat louder, obscuring the words of the man before him, his eyebrows pinching towards each other as he'd throw the sword he'd bent onto the ground between the man and himself. It scraped across the marble floors, leaving a few scratches that would never be repaired.

Whatever the man was saying, Pinocchio couldn't hear. His breathing began to pick up, a trait he'd copied from you, his heart was raising in tempo again.

The man would grab the sword labeled with Pinocchio's name.

An invitation to begin.

Pinnochio found his way back to Hotel Krat, covered in blood that the rain couldn't wash away.

hope you enjoyed my first one-shot ♡

Another Haikaveh Fanfic I Want to Read

The Deshret reincarnation one, but the twist is that Alhaitham has known he's Deshret from the time he was tiny. The story isn't about how he regains his tragic lost memories of being the desert king--it's about how he does everything he possibly can to avoid having to do that job again. Forming some grand ambition to achieve power? Nope, not doing that. Seeking the means to overthrow Celestia via forbidden knowledge? I'll pass. Becoming a main character? Absolutely not. Al-Ahmar Al-haitham is going to live a peaceful life this time, thank you. He's going to study a basic subject (his own language), get a basic desk job, find himself a basic little house, and somehow convince the perfect perfectly-mortal guy he went to school with to marry him--

Destiny, of course, finds him anyway. (Really, Rukkha, really?) The Akasha is turned on the people, the sages seize control, and does this upstart baby deity ("Shouki no kami," pffft, like who even are you, kid?) think he actually has a snowball's chance in the Mare Javari with the minds of two of Sumeru's real god-kings set against him?

At least at the end of all this, with the nation of wisdom saved and Kusanali in charge as she is very welcome to be, Alhaitham can still go home and be normal with his Very Normal™ roommate!

("Alhaitham, listen... I know this isn't the best of times, but there's something I've been meaning to tell you. I'm not exactly... who you think I am...")