AUTHOR'S NOTE: what's up gamers i've been exclusively posting this on AO3 instead because of FF's ridiculous rules about interactive/reader-insert fanfics but the smash community isn't as big over there, so i'm gonna throw this up here until the admins delete my account and all my awful fanfics from 2010. i genuinely think that would be amazing. please banish this account, i beg of you.

i will keep the author notes scarce here, so here's a long one just to detail everything you need to know going into this fic:

* This is a reader-insert fanfic. There are no names or physical traits given for the main character (I don't use "y/n" either just "you", other characters will just say "the host"). Gender isn't real, but we DO have some lore/backstory that will be revealed gradually as the story goes on, so you can consider this an OC if you'd like. Regardless, if second person POV stories aren't your thing, you should leave.

* This is a hybrid platonic & romantic harem fanfic! That means the goal is that the reader-insert will (eventually) form a meaningful bond with EVERY character on the Smash roster. The reader-insert is bi/pansexual and will display attraction to characters regardless of gender. There will be NO romance with minors (AKA any character who is under 18), or characters who I interpret as minors, and even some "adult" characters will only have platonic bonds. That said, THE ROMANCE IS ALL PG! There will be nothing further than slow build to ~chaste kisses~ because I am very haphephobic. This fic is only rated T because certain characters say swears, Palutena talks about "booty" at least once, and also because Bayonetta is eventually going to be in it and it would be unfaithful to her character to write her in an E-rated way lol. Other reasonings for the T rating are: cartoon violence (no gore, rare mentions of blood), references to depression, and uhhhh probably descriptions of shirtless Sephiroth somewhere down the line. I don't actually know what makes up a T rating but I think it's a good, safe letter.

* Yes, this fanfic will have every single character on the Smash Ultimate roster. Some may get more attention than others, but my hope is by the end of the fic, everyone gets to be the focus in at least one big scene each. The characters are going to be arriving gradually (Master/Crazy Hand show up in chapter 2, while characters from the actual roster start showing up in chapter 3), but the plan is that every single character on the base roster will be in the fanfic by chapter 20. DLC characters will start showing up after that.

...that's everything i think! i hope you enjoy this wild trope-filled story of friendship and romance! please leave me 100000 reviews so the admins are forced to notice me and strike me down. thank you.

Light is filtering through your curtains when you awaken, signalling the start of a new day. You could keep sleeping if you wanted to, but you decide today is not one of those days. Today is a day to get up and do things! You slowly rise from the spacious bed, stretching every limb and joint of your body dramatically. Standing upright, you yawn as you cross the room and reach the window, throwing back the curtains so you can open the window to peer outside.

"It's another beautiful day!" you announce to yourself, giving the almost-clear sky a smile. There are some ugly-looking clouds in the distance, but you pretend they aren't there. "I wonder what today will have in store?"

You live in a mansion on an expansive property that stretches further than the eye can see. Everything on the property is yours, and the property itself extends to the limits of this universe - which is to say, you own this so-called "world" that you live in. You live in a gap between time and space - between collections of much larger universes - and have done so for as long as you can remember. While your world is rather ordinary with all things considered, its in-between nature makes it rather convenient for travel. ...Which isn't something you do incredibly often - you much prefer to read from tomes that slip into your universe instead - but it is something that helps spice up your otherwise uneventful life when you do indulge the urge.

"Hmm, what should I wear today?" You ask the peanut gallery as you step out of your walk-in closet with two outfits in hand. The peanut gallery in question consists of a mish-mash of dolls, stuffed toys, and action figures lined up at the end of your bed, all from different worlds - some you visited to obtain such goods, while other worlds experienced a temporal mishap that caused these objects to be dropped into your world via some unknown and likely accidental force. Regardless, they are yours now. All things that drop into your realm are yours, and you do your utmost to take care of such objects as if they were treasured possessions.

Or, in the case of plushies and character figures: as if they were your treasured friends.

"Is today a casual day or a business day?" In one hand you have a dark red blazer that you've decided goes well with a patterned blue tie, and in the other hand you've got a sweater with a bird-like creature sewed on along with the words "you're my tweetheart". You look at your plushies expectantly for an answer.

They say nothing, but you understand their silence perfectly. In particular, your eyes fall on your purple dragon plush.

"Why yes, I do believe you're right!" you say to the dragon, tossing the sweater to the side. You'll pick that up later. "It does feel like something business-y is going to happen today. I shall dress accordingly." You give the dragon an exaggerated smooch on the head for helping you, and then begin to change.

You take your time as you go about your day, choosing to walk through the many halls of your estate instead of taking an easy shortcut to the kitchen, looking at every painting you pass by. You do not know the origin of many of these - most of them have been here longer than you have - but you assume that many of them are of existing places or people in the multiverse. You've managed to track down some of the landscapes and identified some of the people, but many are still an enigma to you. Sometimes it frustrates you so much when you can't find a source, you wish there was someone that you could ask!

But of course, such a thing is impossible because you live alone. You always have, and you strongly suspect that you always will.

But that's okay! It would ruin the fun if you had people to give you all the answers. You greet every portrait you pass by, taking the time to mimic some of the poses or react to the captured action. You pretend to swoon at the statue of the buff shirtless hero. You kiss the hand of a lovely lady. Every work of art had a story to tell, and it was all just so fascinating! You suspect that among this collection, there must be pictures of your ancestors or others that had lived here, and your mind goes wild imagining what legendary figures of the multiverse could have walked these halls. There has never been someone to point them out to you, so you have no clue what your ancestors looked like. All you can do is gaze at pictures and fantasize about the adventures they must have had, undoubtedly living much more exciting lives than you do. And the company they must have had! Just imagine the possibilities when the entire multiverse is within your reach!

You'd love to meet such greats someday, but you like to keep yourself from interfering with other universes' affairs. You're not sure if you're ready to be woven into someone else's story. The idea of standing out so dramatically in another world to the point of possibly changing history by mere existence alone is not a pleasant thought to you. You don't think you could handle that much responsibility! Not to mention, no doubt there would be severe consequences if you were to interfere in a world's natural order! And what if the people of other worlds thought you were strange? What if they hated you?

So that's why you're content to just read about these iconic tales instead. Or watch them. Or... play them. There are a lot of storytelling methods in the multiverse.

Eventually, you reach the banquet hall, where you dramatically throw open the doors to announce your presence. Sometimes you just like to pretend you're that much-anticipated guest at a party, all eyes on you as you make your entrance. Other times you pretend you are a host to many splendid and accomplished individuals - or perhaps the ill-fated or unrecognized, and you are the only one who will offer them shelter. You'd welcome anyone into your home (as long as they didn't plan to cause destruction or spread obscene amounts of filth), and you like to think it's because you are a kind and generous person with so much to give, and not just because you are very very lonely.

The banquet hall is far too large to traverse and does not have enough interesting decor to distract you. You've already gotten your fill of statues and wall art from the halls, so about halfway through the room you let yourself skip right to the end, effortlessly making the transition as you push open the door to the kitchen. You've modeled the kitchen after what you've seen in movies - after what you've seen in fancy restaurants and other big mansions like yours - though you always feel a twang of disappointment that it never gets any use. You've tried to cook for fun, but you almost always let the preparation jump from step to step until you have a perfect meal. It takes too long otherwise! There's never anything or anyone to stop you from jumping right to the end.

There's also nothing that stops you from just not eating, because it's not really something you need. But it's something you watch other people do, so you've fit it into your routines just to keep yourself busy.

"What should I have for breakfast?" You stop in front of what is supposed to be the fridge, but you know that it never has anything in it unless you want it to have something inside. At this present moment, you have gone through enough introspection and inner-monologuing that you are too tired to go the process to pretend to make something, so you decide to just poof something cool into the fridge. Closing your eyes, you grab the door handle, thinking hard about what you want (for dramatic effect), and then yank it open to find…!

Hmm. Thinking about it, you're not sure if pie is supposed to be breakfast food. But that's okay, you don't have to follow any rules! You're gonna eat what you want. And that, at this very moment, is a delicious freshly baked pie.

You take the whole pie with you, because cutting it into slices is absurd when you are eating alone.

You consider eating outside and admiring the lovely view, but you decide it's time to get real. You make a beeline for the study (though you do so by walking there instead of popping or creating shortcuts, so you can nod sagely at some more paintings) with the intent to "get down to business", one might say, and do some business-y things. "Business-y things" are generally what you call your interactions with the outside world, because you like to pretend this is your job. Sending letters, studying the multiverse, other such things... one of these things is definitely on the list today.

As soon as you open the door to your study, you see the letter on your desk. You had sensed its arrival when you had woken up, and had told the universe to forward it to your desk. You already know it's from an unfamiliar address, so its arrival is very exciting. And it's actually addressed to you, unlike most letters that end up in your world! You have absolutely no idea what it could be! The suspense is just killing you.

Placing the pie on the desk, you plop down in your chair and let it spin a full rotation, a big smile on your face. As you pull the envelope close with one hand, you shove a fork full of pie into your mouth. You take a moment to savour the idea of a cinnamon-butterscotch combination flavour that you project onto this pie before you return your full attention to the letter.

The design of the wax seal is familiar, but you can't quite place your finger on where you've seen it before. It's a circle with a misaligned cross in the bottom left, and... aw geez it's really killing you to not know what this is! Alright, no more of this analyzing nonsense, let's just do this. After another bite of pie, you eagerly pop open the envelope and pull out the piece of parchment inside. The writing is very elegant, and you quickly realize why you recognize that symbol.

It's the logo of the most popular fighting tournament in the multiverse, Super Smash Bros.! You've attended all of their events and watched icons and no-names duke it out for victory. You're briefly starstruck and have to pause your reading to wonder what they could possibly want with you - how did they even find you?! A wide grin has made its way onto your face, and you suddenly start feeling hot. You fan yourself with the envelope as if it could calm the pounding in your chest before continuing to read.

The message of the letter is quickly apparent: the showrunners want this to be their biggest event yet ("isn't it always?" you muse to yourself aloud), but their previous locations simply do not have enough space for what they're planning. So they are asking you to rent out your property to them for the tournament season, for both housing accommodations and the tourney itself.

Wow.

You have to reread the letter a few times to make sure you're understanding it correctly. You're half spaced out when you remember you still have a pie on your desk, so you hurriedly take another bite, not caring if all of it doesn't reach your mouth. You don't even notice the chunk that falls onto the desk below.

They want to hold the next Smash Bros. tournament here! You're glad this is a letter and not a face-to-face interaction, because all you can do is squeal from excitement. Sure, Smash is a big deal, but you admittedly might be even more excited about the prospect of having people here. You never have people over - for various reasons, of course - so the idea of this mansion - your mansion - being filled with so many famous superstars is just…!

You don't even have words for it. You don't even have thoughts. The only thing running through your mind right now is "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA".

You're already thoughtlessly pulling out a blank piece of paper and a pen when your mind suddenly goes "whoa hold on there" and "let's think about this for a minute". Right, okay, obviously you're not going to agree right away. You need to see a contract and have the opportunity to lay down a lot of rules. The idea of people wrecking your home and messing with your things has always been an overwhelming thought - one that dissuades you from thoughts of having real people over and keeps your imagination content with picturesque fictional scenarios involving said people. But these are big name superstars! They've done this song and dance before, so surely they won't be too rowdy? As aggressive as the tournaments can get, you have to imagine they get along pretty well otherwise. You've seen a few sporting events involving some of the more famous Smashers, and if Super Mario can get along with his nemesis the King of Koopas himself, then the rest of them could easily be the same!

Your pen is hovering over the page. Your heart and brain are at war, but you're not sure which side each organ is on.

This is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

These halls can finally be filled with real, living people, and not just statues and paintings.

Your life will no longer feel so empty... even if just for a little while.

You take a deep breath, wolf down another bite of Determination Pie, and start writing a reply.

After you've whispered "send this to where the letter came from" to the wind and flicked your own envelope into the vastness of the void, you spend the rest of the day torn between excitement and anxiety.

Instead of doing preparations, you lie down in about seven different locations within your realm and think about the decisions you've made up until now.