It's been so long, and I just wanted to post something for this fandom, even just a pointless drabble that's...kind of pointless. I literally just wrote this, and hey it conveys some of my petty hatred so hey, that's gotta count for something? Sorry if it's confusing by the way. But um, please enjoy.
Nobody's satisfied with second best.
They can pretend, oh they can pretend, wear silly smiles and and an enthusiastic demeanour as they envelop the winner, the core of their inner hatred in a warm hug, uttering wretched praises in their ears, when all they want to do is throw a tantrum and stamp their feet on the ground.
...But they have a reputation to uphold. They are called sore losers, jealous of the winner's talent, their fame. They miss out on their prize, because second. Second is not nearly as good as first.
In fact, Pit would rather be last than second.
It's so infuriating to lose at the final hurdle, for something like a small stumble to cause him the whole tournament. He watches, sees the detested winner hold up the cup that, in an alternate reality he himself could have held.
He's lost again. Second, again. His friends console him lightly, but almost scoldingly, telling him how lucky he was to get this far.
So he nods and agrees. Yes he is.
No he isn't.
He is not lucky to come so close to victory only to fall. The fame surrounds the winner, the lucky one, the stronger one, the better one, and Pit rights himself, plants his usual smile on his usually happy face, and heads on over to them.
He wonders, why nobody can see through his facade. He almost wants someone to, no he definitely wants someone to see his inner turmoil, console him better than calling him lucky. He wants someone to notice him, notice his thoughts, and not call him petty.
He's lost, damn it, and how is that lucky?
If he had lost, fighting against the underworld army, it would've been game over.
But for some reason according to everyone, losing in a tournament, a petty contest was alright. If Pit, didn't have the strength to beat everyone, what would happen if that person turned on them? Mauled them all, because they were the strongest, and Pit was powerless, because he was second.
How would he protect Lady Palutena then?
It's not like he needed to worry though. The winner this year was Lady Palutena after all.
Feeling jealous of his goddess's abilities was ridiculous. She was above him, a divine being, of course she'd be better than him.
It was stupid to go into that final match and think otherwise.
"Congratulations on your win, Lady Palutena," he tells her, bowing slightly, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor, instead of her triumphant grin that usually fills him with so much joy.
He can practically feel Lady Palutena's smile, and she lifts his chin up, looking at him with adoring eyes.
"Thank you, Pit." she chirps. "And congratulations on second place."
His hands slowly form fists, and his mind screams obscenities he didn't even know he knew. But this is Lady Palutena, and she is his master. So he puts on a silly smile and an enthusiastic demeanour, as he envelops her in a warm hug, praising her all the while.
He has a reputation to uphold after all.
I know this fic might seem kind of ooc, but their are hints of his character bleeding through. He wants to come in first so he can protect Palutena, although it's also due to his inferiority complex, and his belief that only first is acceptable. I find Pit the easiest of my little smash children (half of the roster are like my friggin kids) to convey feelings through, as I'd describe myself as bubbly with some inner hatred and inferiority. Anyways, sorry for the long A/N and I'd like to tell you to hopefully be on the lookout for my new Danganronpa/Smash Brothers fic. Unfortunately, I want to finish it completely before I begin posting, and I've only just finished the first case...But who knows I might post it early. I'd like to know if you guys would be interested in seeing it! (No real knowledge of Danganronpa is needed.) Anyways, bye for now!