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writingescapades · 1 month

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How P deals with you going away.

Unintentional pause in writing because life got busy. But been wanting to write this bit for some time, so here it is!

He wants to know where you’re going. It’s mainly out of curiosity. His world is only Krat, so the idea of you going somewhere far away where he can’t reach is new for him. Once he understands the geographic distance, his immediate question is whether he can come. He doesn’t really understand why he can’t come. He can protect you from danger and help you out. He also knows how to stay out of your way if need be. Heartless reader, how can you leave him alone. But, when he understands that this is something he cannot be apart of, and that he has to wait, he falls into silence.

He doesn’t like the idea but knows that it’s a part of life. People come and go. He only hopes that your going will result in a return back to him. Of course, he’s worried sick about your well being, even taking it upon himself to teach you some basic sword moves. He also silently hands you his gun. He doesn’t want you to ever have to use it, but it comforts him knowing that a part of him would be with you. He’s half tempted to just hand over his legion arm to you, he even asked Eugenie, but unfortunately, his arm in your hands would be of no use.

He definitely mopes. Will help you place your stuff into a bag, but when your not looking, will take out an item, so that you’re perpetually packing. You catch on and he can only give a bashful smile at your frown. Will take your shoes for a good shinning before your journey. No, he had no intention of hiding them, what are you talking about. At night, he will idle about. Not really reading or sleeping, just staring at nothing. He’s not really sure what he’s supposed to do for the time you’re away. It dawns on him how small his world is. He shares his thought with Gemini.

On the day of your leaving, he’s extra clingy. Helps you to get ready, ever really letting you be too far away from him. You’ll be distances apart in a few moments, and since it’s the first time you’re leaving, he’s perturbed at the sudden change. Just before you get into your carriage, he hands you Gemini, well more like shoves it into the carriage before the door shuts. “For Luck” is all you hear before the carriage takes off.

Pinocchio watches the carriage disappear into a dot. He’s the last to return back to the hotel mainly because his eyes can follow your carriage further out than human eyes. But it’s also a quiet moment for him to sober up to the reality that he now has to face the days with you or Gemini in it. He supposes he could always get another Gemini, but he likes the intimacy of you two sharing Gemini. But to face the day without your quirks or Gemini’s chirps, is hard. Pinocchio realizes he doesn’t like being alone.

It's tough and new for him, but he pushes himself to hang out more with the people around them. He shadows them around, quietly helping. Everyone notices that he’s stopped speaking as much. Finally, Sophia hands him a paper and ink, and helps him compose a letter. Pinocchio’s world opens up. You mean he can send you’re a letter and get a reply within the same day??

His letters are terrible initially. Very much a child learning to write, because he is learning to write. He knows the words, but his hands are not familiar with the art of writing. Sophia has to help him a lot here. His first sentences go something like this, “This Pinocchio. Alive? Come home?”. Very factual words, and he impatiently waits for your letters. Despite sending a letter with brief words, he expects you to give him a full story. Will read and reread your letters. Pretty much has them memorized. If you tell him to do things to stave off boredom and loneliness, he will do it and report to you. Over time, his letters and thoughts will improve, but you will always remember and keep those initial letters because of how sweet and honest to Pinocchio they are.

Will start to smile more when he finally hears of your impending arrival. Everyone knows your coming home before the official notice is sent out because of Pinocchio. The human puppet seems to walk with a spring in his step. There is a liveliness about him and he seems more eager and ready to help around the others. The mopey side is gone. On the day of your arrival, he keeps staring at the clock, wishing for it to go faster. Will be the first out there. God forbid your carriage being delayed because Pinocchio will stand there in any weather for hours until he sees you. Today means today for him. But when he finally spots your wagon, everyone comes running out because they all heard Pinocchio’s exclamations of excitement for the first time. You stick your head out of the window and wave at the speck in the distance that you know to be your Pinocchio, and the man is off towards you. Impatience finally got the best of him and he starts walking towards the carriage. The driver manages to slow down, before crashing into Pinocchio. He throws the human puppet a glare, but Pinocchio could care less as he opens the door and all but flops onto you.

You laugh and chastise him for almost causing an accident, but soon find yourself hugging the puppet. He pulls you out of the carriage and, finally, into his arms and carries you back home. Yes, you’ll have to return for your luggage, but you’re home. You’re home, you’re home, you’re home, you’re home. Yes, over time Pinocchio’s anxiety over your leaving lessons, but that never stops him from sending letters if he can’t accompany you, and meeting you half way home.

Pinocchio spends the late night apologizing to Gemini for not giving him the same return greeting.

#lies of p #writing #lies of p p #pinocchio #lies of p pinocchio x reader #lies of p fanfic #lies of p headcanons #lies of p headcanon #LoP #lies of p x reader #Pinocchio x reader #Lies of P fanfic

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a-tiny-knight-made-of-porcelain · 1 month

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🦋 Sooo, I’ve had these three scenarios rotating in my mind as of late:

1. Reader accidentally falls asleep on P’s metal hand. They are too tired and decide to lean on him as a joke, but end up falling asleep for real once they close their eyes. Pino, of course, doesn’t move and tries not to wake them up. When they wake up from their short nap, their face is covered with imprints from the legion arm. A lot of giggling follows.

2. Reader wears an armor ring or a set of armor rings on their left hand to match with their dear P. As a result they both develop an interesting gesture of friendship: the handshake of the metal hands.

3. Reader forgets that Flamberge is a literal flamethrower and grabs Pino‘s hand in excitement after he‘s used the arm. It‘s still very hot and reader burns their hand but juuuust a little bit. It‘s still enough to set P into panic. Poor guy feels guilty for a long time and reader has to often assure him that it‘s not something serious. (Totally not inspired by me burning my hand while boiling water for coffee last night…)

#i hope it‘s not ooc #can be read as platonic or romantic #lies of p #liesofp #lop #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p p #p #pinocchio #lies of p hcs #lies of p headcanons #lies of p x reader #why would this not show up in the tags???

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prismatic-starstuff · 6 months

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I absolutely love the cutscene before the King of Puppets boss...

He makes such a dramatic entrance. Crashes right in front of his visitor with purpose. Tips his crown in such a charming, playful way. Extends his hand as if inviting Carlo Pinocchio for a dance.

And the thing about it all is that he's entirely harmless. He doesn't mean anything bad; in his eyes, this is his friend who he hasn't seen in a long time, who he just wants to be beside as he did before...

And when Carlo Pinocchio rejects him? He's so upset. Spends the whole first half of the fight trying to convince his friend to help him, trying to explain that he isn't even doing anything bad; and even when he's resolved to kill his friend in the second half of the fight, he still pledges to be by his side, still thanks him for his freedom...

But I can't help but wonder what would've happened if, instead of smacking the King's hand away, Pinocchio had just... took it. If he'd gone along with the King and maybe joined him for a dance. If he'd been able to listen and make that choice to change his course, to forget about what Geppetto wants and to explore other possibilities; not that I'm blaming Pinocchio, rebelling against the one he's always obeyed is no easy thing— as we learn all too well later.

...I don't have anywhere I'm going with this, really. I just really love that cutscene, and I just really wish Pinocchio had taken Romeo's hand.

I feel like things could've been so different for these two if he did.

#lies of p spoilers #lies of p romeo #king of puppets #lies of p pinocchio #lies of p p #lies of p #lop spoilers

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poisonsword · 2 months

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My fave headcanon for Romeo is that he is taller than Carlo, and he likes to tease Carlo about it lol

Imagine in an AU where P, Carlo and Romeo are together (like the Twin AU):

Carlo, looking up at Romeo 8ft body: That is not fair.

Romeo: Yeah, I can't see you from up here.

Carlo: I can break your knee-caps.

Romeo: Bet you can't even reach them.

Poor P has to hold back Carlo from proving Romeo wrong.

#Poor Carlo loves his bf but finds it unfair that Romeo has to lean down to kiss him #especially when Romeo has to bend down to be affectionate #but hey strong tall bf can carry him easily right?#you know that one meme 'how to talk to short people'?#That's them in summary lmaooo #lies of p #lies of p carlo #lies of p romeo #lies of p p #carmeo #p on the otherhands doesn't really care because he compensates with his big bulky weapon lmao #lies of p spoilers

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vigarioamelia · 26 days

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so i have been working on this fanfic which is basically:

instead of p being 'uh okay whatever i guess' when red fox (claudia) and black cat (lucio) tell him to just move forward without them during the malum district exploration, p insists on bringing them to the hotel and all of that.

it's 10k fucking words so far and i was definitely NOT planning on putting so much into it but i have so many headcanons and i really want to explore these characters... not only P himself, but Red Fox, Black Cat, the hotel crew and of course the Black Rabbit Brotherhood

so if anyone reads this would you mind giving your opinion on whether i should write a fic one-shot focusing on each (as in, a one-shot dedicated to what could red fox and black cat's relationship with P be, another one-shot with the Black Rabbit Brotherhood etc etc etc) or idk make every single one part of the same work with separate chapters?

all the one-shots would be part of a series btw

ALSO I HAVE AN IDEA FOR A ROMEO STORY AS WELL SO... big brain moment

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turnupswritessometimes · 1 month

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Butterflies - Ch6 - Lies of P/Alice Madness

Relationship: P/Alice Liddell

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53898544/chapters/137944243

Next | Previous | First

Summary: “But why go looking for other realities, when there’s no guarantee you’ll pass through to them?” “Because it’s an experiment, and I jolly well won’t learn anything more about all this unless I try,” Alice replied.

Having figured out how to slip in and out of Wonderland entirely, Alice Liddell sets off on a journey to find more realities around her own. When she follows a blue butterfly to Hotel Krat, she meets P. The more time they spend together, the more they feel as though there’s someone else out there, just like them.

Chapter Six: Discusses how Alice and P are not afraid of Puppets or Monsters

Alice was mortified. She did not cry like a little girl. Not anymore. She was entirely past that stage, thank you very much. And she certainly didn't sob into a boy's arms.

And yet – it hadn't felt entirely mortifying, when P had held her. He had been warm and solid and there – a life raft in a pool of tears. His breath had been warm against her forehead, and his voice a soft rumble under her cheek. She'd been able to hear his heart again; the springs that ticked to keep him working. It had been comforting. He had been comforting, though by all accounts, she hardly knew him.

But she did. She knew what it was like to be thrown into a world of horrors and being told the only way out was to fight. She knew about telling lies – hadn't she told lies to get out of the asylum? Of course she was sane, and Wonderland was a figment of her imagination, and she had come to terms with her family's misfortune. She did know P, in the same way she knew herself.

They'd stayed on the windowsill for a long time. Until Alice was dimly aware of P lifting her, still so gently, of being carried and falling onto soft sheets. Of knowing she should protest, but being too sleepy to really fight against it; not really wanting to protest. It had been years since someone carried her to bed. It made her feel safe, in a way she hadn’t, not since them. Alice had been dimly aware of taking his hand again, squeezing it tightly, and hoping that he could feel it.

It was morning now, and she was mortified. Mortified, with that same feeling of butterflies fluttering in her stomach she'd had when they were dancing. She paced up and down the balcony of the hotel foyer, and wondered how she could face P, ever again after being so foolish.

Then she heard the voice: "—Don't wish for you to be distracted."

It came from Geppetto's room. She hadn’t really spoken to the man since she’d arrived. He always seemed harried, rushing from place to place, juggling a dozen gizmos. He seemed – distracted, and only half interested in them both.

She heard P's soft voice. "Alice is helping me."

There were other sounds. Mechanical sounds. Alice pressed her back against the wall, and peered in as much as she dared. She could only see a slither, without herself being seen as well, but she saw P sat in a large chair, Geppetto in front of him, and P's chest open. She couldn’t see what was inside, but she knew it was machinery.

She pulled back. Her heart thudded. She'd known P was a puppet, he didn't hide it, but it had been easy to forget the reality of that. He didn't have blood, or bones or muscle. He was a machine. But surely, there was more to him than that. He was a person.

"And I am sure, for a girl, she is capable," Geppetto said. Alice bit her cheek, feeling a rush of indignation. For a girl, indeed. “But Krat is dangerous, and she is human.”

P didn’t respond. Alice chanced a glance around the door again – just in time to see him look up at her. She felt a rush of warmth on her cheeks at being caught. But P didn’t give her hiding spot away, and his father didn’t seem to notice the distraction.

“I only noticed that you were spending a lot of time together. Please remember that Krat needs you, son. The sooner you can get to the Grand Exhibition, the better.”

P took his eyes off Alice to look at his father. He nodded.

Alice leant back against the wall, her face burning. Half of her wanted to snap that their relationship wasn’t what Geppetto made it sound like – that they were not too teenagers with a pash. But the more sentimental and girlish half wondered if it was – wondered if she wanted to be. Most of her wanted to shake herself for focusing on that part of the conversation, instead of the rest. Instead of P’s heart, and the Grand Exhibition.

She heard footsteps.

It was P. He stopped, for a moment, in the doorframe, tucking his dark hair behind his ear, and she found herself fixated on the shape of it. It was delicate and intricate, like a shell. (Truly, she needed to give herself a very good shake.) He looked at her, with his crystal-blue eyes, for a moment, then nodded his head forward, without a word.

She followed him.

They walked in silence along the hotel balcony, and along the corridor that led to the gold coin fruit tree. P seemed even stiffer than usual. He didn’t turn, didn’t even look, at her, when he asked, “Are you scared of me?”

“I could ask you that exact question,” she replied. “I’m told I’m a very unstable young woman.”

It was easier to say that, now he knew the truth. She glanced at the hair behind his ear again. It exposed his jaw, and she saw it working, as he considered his words.

“I am a puppet,” he said, finally. “I could go into a frenzy, too.”

“I don’t believe that,” Alice said. She paused, her hand on the great, gold doorknob that led to the courtyard. “Otherwise, you would have already, I’m sure.”

P had a hand on the other doorknob. He looked down at it, and his lashes seemed very long, and dark. “You’re right. My father said I can’t.”

“He doesn’t seem to like me very much.” Alice turned, her back against the door, opening it with her weight, so she could still see P. His dark hair caught in the breeze from the courtyard, wavering like ribbons, and his blue eyes were soft in the early morning light.

“Only because you’re a stranger he didn’t plan for, and he likes to plan. He thinks I can’t have feelings for you.” P took a slow step into the courtyard too. He let the door fall closed behind him. “There are lots of things he says I can’t do. But I can think for myself. And feel. And want.”

Alice kept her hands linked behind her back, squeezing them together tightly. Until they hurt. Feelings. He said feelings. She took another step backwards, towards the tree. She loved the tree, with its twisting branches and strange, slightly glowing fruit. She would not ask what feelings he had for her, though she suspected she would make things easier for herself, if she did. She couldn’t bear having that conversation.

“My hair grew, when it shouldn’t be able to. Perhaps he doesn’t know everything I can or can’t do.” P stayed at the door. “So perhaps I could go into a frenzy.”

“If you do, then I would have to fight you,” Alice said. “But if it makes you feel better, I promise I would feel rotten doing it, and shout bitterly all the while.”

It did make P smile. A small smile, and his eyes seemed even softer. “Would you cry?”

“Certainly. I would weep.”

P truly smiled, and she was smiling back. For a moment, she thought, it was just like all of those novels of Lizzie’s. She used to hate them, and only ever flick through to the good parts, since they didn’t have any pictures in. Now, she felt electrified, but it only made her feel alive.

But then P’s smile faded, as he looked at her. “It didn’t bother you to see?”

He put a palm over his chest, to show what he meant.

“Of course not,” Alice said, and that was the truth. “Logically, I knew that you had mechanics inside you, but as everyone says, it’s what’s on the inside that counts. Although, of course, they don’t mean that literally, they mean it figuratively, to mean your soul…”

She realised she was burbling, and let her voice trail away. She’d been looking anywhere but P’s smile, and hadn’t realised him crossing to her. But there he was, just in front of her, and truly smiling at her. It made her stomach leap, he was close, and a part of her wanted him to be closer. And yet, she was also terrified that they were going to talk about feelings again.

“What’s at the Grand Exhibition?” she asked. “And shall I go with you?”

It made him pause, and she couldn’t help feeling relieved that she’d steered the conversation to a safe place. P clenched his fingers, and didn’t quite meet her eye. There it was – that thing he was hiding – and it was good to be reminded of it. P was keeping as many secrets as she was, and she shouldn’t trust him so entirely.

(Though that made her a hypocrite, since she still had so many. Besides, she couldn’t help trusting him – if he was keeping secrets, it wouldn’t be to hurt her.)

“The Grand Exhibition is where the head of the alchemists’ base is,” P said, slowly. “He might know more about what’s happening in Krat. I don’t know what I will find there.”

“All the more reason for me to go with you.” She folded her arms over her chest. It was much easier to be obstinate about this, than about feelings. “And don’t tell me I could get hurt, because we’ve both established that I’m quite capable of holding my own.”

P didn’t answer immediately. He reached up, slowly, to the branch above her head, and picked a handful of the gold coin fruit. The movement sent a few stray leaves fluttering down between them. He held out his hand, and she took one, twisting it between her fingers. He pocketed the rest.

“Alright,” he said. “I’ll show you what’s out there.”

P led the way through the Malum district, and past where the Black Rabbit Brotherhood had made their camp. Alice was much too determined to find out, and he felt he owed it to her, after what his father had said. His father had been right; he really should be getting to the Grand Exhibition. There were people relying on him.

His father was relying on him.

Besides, it was easier to show Alice now, and avoid the question of feelings altogether. He led her through the streets, until they caught sight of one of the monsters.

It shuffled, blind, scratching at the boarded-up windows and grunting softly to itself. Crystals erupted from its skull, and down its back, and its skin was so sallow it had a greenish tinge.

They peered around a corner. Alice stood behind him, and caught hold of his arm to balance herself.

"What is it?" she whispered. She was so close, he could feel her breath on his cheek.

It hadn't heard, but P still tugged them both back to safety. It left Alice stood in front of him, and his hands hovered near her elbows. He gently took them, because she didn't pull away. It felt like holding a bird.

"My father calls them carcasses," he said. "They used to be human. But then, something happened."

Alice's eyebrows Rose. "Something?"

"That is why I'm going to the alchemists," he said. “To find out what.”

"We still don't know very much," Gemini added, at his side. "We think it's something to do with the petrification disease."

"And it's—" Alice's green eyes searched his. They had flecks of brown and hazel around the iris, as she looked for an answer. "Irreversible?"

"As far as we know." His grip tightened, without him meaning it to. "I won't let anything happen to you."

He expected her to brush him off, and tell him she was more than capable. Maybe the sight of the carcass rattled her, or maybe – maybe she trusted him. She caught his arms in return, and seemed to lean closer.

"I know you won't." She paused, examining his face, whilst he tried to read hers. "So, why did you hide the monsters from me?"

Her hands held him gently; as hesitantly as he held her, as though he was something which might break.

"I didn't want you to know I hurt humans."

It seemed to surprise her. She began to speak, but they were interrupted by a guttural cry. The carcass had heard them. It came barrelling down the street towards them, arms flying. Alice stepped back neatly.

P drew his sword.

Alice already had her dagger. She stepped back again as the carcass lunged, then darted forward, her blade flashing.

He saw the silver point poke out the carcass' back. It withdrew. Alice stabbed again. And a third time, then pushed the carcass back. It fell, still twitching, but harmless, to the pavement. Blood spewed from its wounds.

She stood over it, her dress splattered with blue blood, her knife at her side. She looked from the body, up to him, her green eyes focused.

"It doesn't matter if it was human once, or not," Alice said. "It's that, now, and it's deadly, and it will kill us."

She sounded more certain of herself than she ever had before, in Krat, as though the kill had helped. Perhaps P should be alarmed at that, but he wasn’t. He understood that; fighting was his purpose too. Fighting focused his mind as well.

And yet, he stood on the other side of the body, and said, “I’ve killed humans who weren’t monsters.”

He remembered the survivor with the mouse mask. Remembered that desperate battle in that underground room. Remembered before that, when the donkey came at him on the bridge, and he had seen real blood for the first time, instead of oil. How it had felt different to kill, that time.

P wanted Alice to know that, because she wasn’t scared. She wasn’t scared, and he felt she should be.

But Alice didn’t look shocked. She held his gaze, her chin tilted ever so slightly up, as though in defiance. “So have I. And they weren’t monsters in the physical sense – not like this one. Only in the philosophical sense.”

Though, that bothered her. He could tell by the way her eyes darkened, her brow furrowed slightly, and her lips pursed. It still bothered her, just as it bothered him, that she had killed. Their stories felt similar. It felt like standing in front of a mirror.

He didn’t know what he was going to ask her next; he didn’t have the chance; there was another great, guttering cry, and he looked up to see a carcass stumbling its way over a rooftop towards them. It leapt from the guttering, hitting the ground running, even as Alice turned, her blade raised.

P was there first. He didn’t draw his own sword; he lashed out with his legion arm. Smashed the carcass’ face as its arms flailed. It fell back, stumbling, and he punched it again. And again. Hit its chest, even as it fell back, limbs splayed, against the cobblestones. It was one of Alice’s moves, he knew, to smash its ribs with his boot. A brutal, desperate move.

Then the monster lay still.

P was breathing heavily. Blood glinted on his legion arm. When he raised his other hand to his cheek, he found a splatter there, too. P turned back to Alice, sure that he looked like a mad, killer puppet. Sure that this time, she would be even more shocked than when she had first learnt he was a puppet at all.

“Thank you,” she said. She hadn’t sheathed her blade. “I didn’t spot that one.”

P nodded. She was not as nonchalant as she’d have him believe. Her shoulders were tense, and her cheeks were dusted with pink. And she was covered in blood too, he realised. She was a fighter, like him. He clenched and unclenched his legion arm. He’d wanted to save her. Needed to save her. That had seemed as important as saving his father; just as instinctuall.

“You should head back to the—”

“I’m not scared of you, P.” She stepped closer to him.

He felt the urge to step back. She wasn’t scared. There was a look in her eye that made his chest feel tight, that he didn’t recognise. All he knew was she was the first person to call him P to his face, and he liked that. It made him feel – real.

“There’s nothing you can do that would make me scared of you,” she continued. “And I don’t believe there’s anything I can do to make you scared of me.”

How could he ever be scared of her? Brave, clever, kind, brutal Alice?

She was close now. Very close, and his hands took hold of her waist of their own accord. It felt natural, and she didn’t pull away. Her own hands went to the collar of his coat, her thumbs rubbing at the material. And he liked this; he liked being with her, like this.

Alice looked at him from under her lashes in a way that felt unfamiliar, yet – right. He couldn’t explain it; his springs were in overdrive. He felt electrified; alive.

“Alice,” he murmured, just to say her name.

She wasn’t meeting his gaze, anymore, she was looking at his mouth. He felt it part, under her scrutiny. Her fingers reached up, though only the very tip of her pointer finger brushed his bottom lip.

He kissed her finger. It felt good. Caught her wrist, and kissed her palm too. That felt wonderful. Her hand cupped his cheek in response, and that felt warm and perfect. He closed his eyes, and held her hand to his face. This felt vulnerable, and strange and yet he felt soothed. This was more comforting than his father’s touch. It was more like Sophia’s. It felt like there was care behind it, and he liked feeling cared for. Liked caring about someone else.

Alice pressed closer to him, and wrapped her other arm around his neck.

P buried his face in her shoulder, her hair soft against his skin. It smelt sweet, like the crimson apple from the Krat supply case. He held her back, and felt her breathe against him. She was alive, and she was holding him, her other hand just nudging his hair.

He could stay like that forever, he thought. Certainly stayed that way a while, but there was work to be done. There were more monsters in the city of Krat; more chaos outside. He’d put it off long enough.

It was time to go to the Grand Exhibition.

#alice madness returns #alice liddell #lies of p #pinocchio #lies of p p #fanfiction #fanfic #crossover ship #alice x p #alice x pinocchio #turnupswrites

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little-monsters26 · 6 months

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Mid spoilers (beware)

Might sound wild but do you think the Black Rabbit Brotherhood actually want to kill us at the beginning because we're not Carlo (or at least that's what they're thinking)?

We don't really know the different ways someone can become a stalker, it's explicit that you can become one by going to school or having special type of education, but I'm thinking about the more older stalker : did the stalker thing appeared with the arrival of the alchemist or was it already install? We don't have an actual answer to that but if yes that mean only education could do, if not it mean that you can become stalker with other ways but anyways going back to the subject now.

With the attitude of the Black Rabbit Brotherhood it would seems that they are poor children or orphans (surely both) since the youngest said her elder bother always looked out for her or something. Also they all appear to be between their late teens to late twenties, as for Romeo and Carlo/P they also look in their late teens early twenties (but other people might argue about that because of their appearance so I'm basing myself on the fact that carlo had a graduation necklace - don't really think they would graduate at 14). We know that the Black Rabbit Brotherhood were actual stalkers before turning into criminals (find out in a wanted poster).

But where I'm I going with all this, huh? I think that to become stalkers the Black Rabbit Brotherhood were actually student/resident of the Monad Charity House since they are likely orphans and we know it was a refuge for orphans and poor children like Romeo before. Carlo also was a student there and I think the fact that the son of the "genius" who build the puppets was in the same boarding school as you was not something you could really ignore. So even if they didn't really knew each other personally i think that they knew at least who it was. And it seems like Carlo's death was also a public affair, since he's the son of Geppetto, they obliviously knew about his death, (maybe not the cause since the petrification desease was still covered up but at least that he died).

So I think that seeing him going around killing puppets must have been a little unsettling. The liar coffin can also be a clue : the fact that P is not really Carlo (at least not yet) but it can also mean so many things and be references to other so I'm not really betting on this argument.

In fact do I have a single valuable argument in this? No, because it's a theory and maybe it's not that or maybe the devs didn't even thought about it. It's all speculation with the little amount of information that we have throught-out the game but I still find it interesting.

#lies of p #Black Rabbit Brotherhood #Theory #Just thought about this at 10 pm #Lies of P Carlo #Lies of P P #Carlo #Romeo (just mention but gotta ad my boy)

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fkasocks · 7 months

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the bosses in lies of p are NOT fucking around!!!

#lies of p #white woman

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sarakipin · 7 months

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Is this truly the future you wanted? 🦋

#contractually obligated to draw the twink in the suitcase #lies of p #carlo #my art #sara kipin #pinocchio

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writingescapades · 2 months

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Brain rot of imaging P nudging you with his nose.

You’re falling asleep while you read to him? *Nudge nudge* <how can you sleep? We just got to the good part>

#lies of p p #lies of p headcanons #lies of p fanfic #lies of p pinocchio x reader #lies of p headcanon #lies of p fanart #lies of p #lies of p x reader #pinocchio x reader #pinocchio #p x reader

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a-tiny-knight-made-of-porcelain · 1 month

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Saw this and immediately thought of Pino.

And it’s even probably Italian!!!

. . .

The Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York, Tail coat, ca. 1830, Gift of The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1940

www.metmuseum.org

#lies of p #liesofp #lop #lies of p p #lies of p pinocchio

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prismatic-starstuff · 6 months

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...sighs.

the fact Romeo refers to himself in that one message as 'your best friend' and 'Carlo's best friend' separately makes me think that maybe, on some level, he knows Pinocchio isn't Carlo; but maybe, on some level, he still wanted to be his best friend anyway.

maybe it didn't matter to him. maybe it was okay. maybe Romeo would've taken kindly to Pinocchio, even though he isn't Carlo. maybe they could've joined forces and fought together and everything could've been so much better and neither of them would've had to die and...

s i g h s . . .

#lies of p spoilers #lies of p #lies of p romeo #lies of p p #lies of p pinocchio #lop spoilers #i am. Deeply in my feelings about romeo and pinocchio today.#romeo and carlo too but— right now it's primarily romeo and pinocchio #it's the fact it's all caused by one person's miscommunication and lies. it's the fact that's /all/ that's led up to this.#...s i g h s...

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poisonsword · 3 months

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Do you have any headcanons about P?

Oh hello?? I didn't expect to get an ask today. Where'd you come from little one?

I do have a lot of headcanons for P. But my favorites is:

As P gains humanity, his thousand-yard stare begins to fade away. His eyes begin to have Microsaccades (the micromovements of the eye).

Like the first one, as P gains humanity, his movements become much more smoother, less jerky. he learns to control the strength of his Legion of arm for more gentler activities.

P likes to collect different nick-knacks from his adventures and each items varies per adventure. A book? in the bag. A seashell? In the bag. An intricate box? In the bag. A pretty scarf? In the bag.

P does not really need to sleep, but he does like to lie down and have Spring purring on his chest. His eyes are closed but he is still aware of his surroundings and absent-mindedly petting Spring.

P likes to experiment with playing the piano and learn more songs that he can play. I like to imagine that all the fighting and being on-guard outside made him more sensitive with sounds-- which sounds smoother, which sounds harsh, which sounds just right.

My primary headcanon is that P is his own person. Although I do have another headcanon (separate) that he is also Carlo. It's like a ship of theseus thing.

I have more but hoo boy, if I list it down, there might be a lot.

#lies of p #lies of p p

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