#TW: language

[comatosebunny09]

fever dream | astarion a.

genre(s): fluff, angst

warning(s): language, self-indulgent, sick!reader, astarion’s a little ooc

now playing: the night does not belong to god - sleep token

notes: very self-indulgent because i’m sick and needed some comfort and @nanaoise08squad inspired me to finish this. thank you for reading, lovelies! ❤️❤️❤️

Somehow, the sun shines brighter today. Glaringly so.

You hold a hand to your temple to shield your eyes from its brilliance. Your armor feels heavier, too. Like boulders stacked on your shoulders and chest, making it harder to breathe. You force out a groan that’s gritty like ash. Trudge down the steps leading outside the inn to join your companions, your limbs weighted and achy.   

“I hate to point out the obvious, darling.” Astarion grimaces with his hands curled to his chest in revulsion. He ducks away from the sight of you. Winces as you take a labored step forward, your balance thrown to the hells.

“But you look like utter shit.”

You scoff, phlegm making itself known in your throat.

What a way to be greeted by the love of your life.

“You sure are a flatterer, aren’t you, Astarion?”

You’re sure to drag out the vowels of his name—or perhaps your words are a little slurred due to whatever ailment took hold of you today. Nevertheless, you jab a finger between his ribs, your face twisting into something haughty.

You wonder if it was worth the exertion as your vision and body sway along with the trees, and your head pounds something menacing whilst a wave of vertigo hurtles into you.

“Shit!”

Astarion catches you when you pitch forward, your legs unable to grasp the rhythm of walking. And there are suddenly two of him. Two little ‘starions calling your name, fretting over you, shaking you to keep you amongst the conscious.

You feel like lead. Feel yourself sinking below the surface, unable to return.  

Your lids shutter as if weighed down by sandbags. The muddled shouts of your friends trickle in, each tinged with varying degrees of concern. You register hands all over you, patting and pulling. Register a strained voice yelling stop, and the frantic touching ceases.  

Before you fully succumb to the darkness, there is the sensation of you being lifted up, followed by the earthy scent of bergamot flooding your senses, and it furls around your heart.

Then, there is nothing.

Something savory draws you from the inkiness of your sleep. It curls around your mind, luring you into consciousness.

You caution a sound, your throat rubbed raw from disuse. You slowly open your eyes, and the bleariness gradually morphs into discernible shapes and colors. Somehow, this place feels familiar.

You’re back in your rented room. Nestled in the plushness of a mattress with too many pillows and sheets soft as linen. You will yourself onto your elbows, wincing at the stiffness of your neck. The pain is manageable. Better than it was before, you note, leisurely ingesting your surroundings.

A lone candle flickers on the nightstand, swathing the room in its bronze glow. Moonlight seeps through the curtains lining the window across. The faint symphony of crickets accompanies the murmur of the inn’s other patrons and the groans of the floorboards beyond your doorway.

Bloody hell.

How long have you been out?

On cue, the doorknob rattles, and a slither of light leaks in. The swell of noise outside commands your attention. You stiffen, fingers instinctively twitching for a weapon. But your bones settle as a thatch of white creeps into your vision from the threshold.

“Well, hello there, Sleeping Beauty,” Astarion breathes. He toes the door shut, a steaming bowl of deliciousness cupped in his palms. Takes a few steps forward, rounded eyes flashing amber beneath the candlelight.

You recognize that aroma. The hearty scent which roused you from your sleep. Your stomach gnarls with life as Astarion nears the bed, donning that smug little mask.

“Hungry, are we?”

You nod enthusiastically, garnering a chuckle from the room’s other occupant. Suddenly self-conscious of how eager you are whilst he hands you the bowl, his fingers slinking away from yours as if he’s touched simmering coals.

“Courtesy of Gale,” Astarion supplies. “I can’t guarantee how good it tastes considering—well, you know. Undead and all that.”

His smile is tight-lipped. Guarded as he settles himself on a stool beside you, his spine straight and his ankles crossed. He helps you sit up against the headboard despite the unease permeating the air. Quickly retracts his hands to press them against the wood of his seat between his thighs, surveying your room.

You take some time to study him. Note that his eyebags seem more prominent than usual. Darker. Hair’s a little tussled, skin a bit paler. His shirt sits rumpled around his shoulders, the fastenings of it done all wrong. Worst of all, he has not looked at you for longer than a few beats. Like you’re made of glass and will shatter if he stares for too long.   

A pang shoots through you, searing hot like lightning.

He was worried.

Worst of all, he was worried about you.

You’re no longer hungry, your stomach twisting as you gaze down at the stew bleeding warmth into your palms. You set it on the nightstand with a decisive clunk, quietly receding into yourself. Silently relenting to the smog of self-loathing draping itself across your shoulders.   

“You scared me half to death, you know,” says Astarion, parting the tangled sea of your thoughts. As if he senses you berating yourself. It’s a soft drawl. An attempt at scolding you, but there’s weariness nestled in the undercurrents of it. “That’s saying a lot, considering I’ve already one foot in the grave.”

You peer up at him like a meager child. He watches you from his peripheral with crossed arms, his nose turned up, feigning disappointment. You see through the cracks of his façade, and your lips twitch with the threat of a smile.

He can be incredibly adorable when trying to shroud his feelings.

“I’m sorry,” you offer, your tone barely above a whisper.

Astarion releases a resigned sigh. And the weight of the world seems to pour from his shoulders as he angles himself towards you, reaching for one of your hands.

His expression softens, and he squeezes, his palm frigid yet reassuring. For the first time since he entered, he truly looks at you. Gaze swims through your features as if to commit every detail, every imperfection, to memory. As if he could lose you at any second.  

“No need to apologize, my love. I was just…concerned, is all. I suppose we all were when you went down.”

The recollection makes your face blossom with heat. Poor little darling, taken out by a nasty cold. Causing hysteria among your friends, deterring your journey.

Astarion thumbs your cheek, smiling something genuine at the pout on your lips.

Your tongue burns with the ache of a question, and you shrink, not wholly prepared for the answer.

“How long was I out for?”

“Nearly two days.”

You blanch, evoking another guttural laugh from Astarion.     

“Shadowheart did her best to heal you. There was only so much her magic could mend. So, we’ve been playing the waiting game while you caught up on your beauty sleep. Not like you need much more of it.”

You snort at Astarion’s cheekiness.

Leave it to your little star to find every opportunity to flatter you.

He examines your joined hands thoughtfully, thumb smoothing over your knuckles.

“It’s been centuries since I’ve dealt with mortal illnesses. Honestly, I couldn’t begin to fathom how to comfort you. Other than gracing you with my presence, of course.”  

It’s refreshing to see his humor is still intact despite his beloved pulling a Snow White.

For a while, you sit like this. Basking in the moment’s serenity, holding hands. Grinning and laughing like two enamored fools when your gazes interlock. You can tell that Astarion’s lightyears away, however. At war with himself, lost in the maelstrom of his thoughts, reprimanding himself for not being your proverbial knight in shining armor.

Absently, you scoot over. Relinquish your love’s hand—much to his chagrin—to pat the space beside you. You affix him with a look that’s all too serious as you say, “For starters, you could try holding me.”

Astarion stares at you with rounded eyes. Mouth opens and closes like a gaping fish, forming around words that he can’t quite conjure.   

“Oh. A-Alright,” he finally musters. Dumbfounded, Astarion stands, maneuvering to sit beside you on the bed. He doesn’t quite know what to do with his hands. Never does, unused to being so vulgar, so unabashed with his feelings.

Though, for you, you know he would rearrange the stars in the sky if he could.

So you help him, tugging him closer and falling into the circle of his arms. You nestle against his chest with a pleased hum vibrating your throat. Tangle your legs together, ignoring the surprised sound that leaves him.

He’s a lovely contrast to your still-enflamed skin. Fits like a puzzle piece against you, soft and lithe. He relaxes gradually, tucking you ever closer against him as if you’ll disappear in a plume of smoke if he lets go. He pets through your hair before anchoring his chin to the crown of your head, surrendering a satisfied sigh.

“Well, I supposed this isn’t so bad, now is it?” Astarion husks, stroking soothing circles into the notches of your spine.

You nod offhandedly, your lids lowering, and your body feeling at ease.

Suddenly, your ailment seems more bearable as you sink below the depths of slumber, an unguarded smile cresting over your lips.

The shadows of your conjoined bodies dance along the walls as the candlelight dwindles, and you both surrender to the tranquility of the night.    

masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #bg3 x reader #astarion fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fluff #tw: language #tw: angst #tw: self loathing #tw: sickness #sick!tav #sick!reader #astarion comfort #bg3 #bg3 astarion

[captainhysunstuff]

I think about that phone call interruption a lot. The boys were having a moment, and Watari wasn't having any of it.

#I mean come on. It's the one of the oldest romantic moment interruption tropes in the book #drawn by me #my fancomic #Death Note #lawlight #Watari #Quillish Wammy #L #Light Yagami #that damn foot rub #L was totally extending an invitation for last minute now or never saucy shenanigans #I still can't believe they got away with it~ XD #tw: language #tw: suggestive implications #sad wet boys #now embarrassed wet boys~

[tilvcei]

► 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆

⭢ In which: you become ghostface newest target but figure out who’s been behind it all the whole time which shocks you, you loved ethan but he was so obsessed, maybe you were his everything.

☆ | Warning(s): blood , gore , death , suggestive language

☆ | note: when I saw Jack champion as Ethan Landry? I became obsessed recently. now I have a huge obsession with his character. and you will too ;)

☆ | gender: she/her (reader)

You had love for Ethan. you really did. but when it came down to certain things you didn’t like talking about, he dropped the topic. and that’s what you appreciated about him.

But also, he was crazy about you. feral if that’s what you wanna call it. very protective — yes he has that shy demeanor but when you actually take a good look at him in this moment? you can see he isn’t that innocent. if he can kill, he can do much more.

You just saw him twist someone’s guts. why wasn’t it obvious to you before? he was part of the killings. as well as Quinn and their father. the whole family was crazy, Sam got you tangled all into this but it wasn’t her fault you agreed to this anyways.

At the moment you were standing in the middle of Tara and Sam as they were surrounded by the family of Richie. you could see the anger and rage in their eyes. you get it, they lost their brother due to sam killing him. but he was so obsessed with the movies, it was his fault. not hers.

"He was obsessed with the movies! it wasn’t like sam had a choice. he attacked her first, what was she supposed to do? not fight back in her defense?" you questioned, your arm was still bleeding from when Quinn ‘accidentally’ stabbed you.

Ethan turned to you, "you’re really going to let that bitch put that in your pretty little mind? she’s the one in the wrong. Richie did nothing wrong! nothing! And she fucking killed him without any regret. she’s just like her damn father." Tara put a hand on your shoulder but Ethan glared at her.

"Don’t. don’t you fucking touch her!" Ethan yelled, Tara pushed you behind her while staring down Ethan, “No, no you stay the fuck away from her!” she yelled back, Ethan kept glaring at her.

"You keep gettin’ in the way. but I’m gonna fix that real soon, Tara." Ethan threatened, you backed away in fear. what happened to the Ethan you once loved and knew? what happened to the shy Ethan? the dorky one?

He then looked over at you with a smile, he looked at the blood on the knife and realized it was yours. his face turned into one of concern.

"Oh, baby I’m sorry if I hurt you. it wasn’t even aimed at you, it was for Sam. but here, cause Y’know, I love you so much." Ethan said with a crazed laugh.

He licked the blood from the knife, moaning while he did so which caught you off guard. Tara looked at him like he was crazy, what the actual hell was wrong with him..?

"Run!" Sam yelled, Tara grabbed your hand and the both of you started running, you were inside the museum of all the ghostface items and things every person was killed with, you slipped but returned your footing and dashed up the stairs.

"Are you really trying to take what’s mines, Tara?" You heard Ethan say in a low voice — and it scared you, if you were honest. a shiver ran down your spine.

You kept running and leaned against the railing, which broke and caused you to nearly fall. but Tara and Sam were quick to grab you by the wrist and stop you from falling all the way down. but you were hanging and nearly almost done for.

"My hands are slipping, just let go!" you said, Tara felt tears fall from her eyes as she started sobbing, "just hang on okay? just hold our hands, it’s gonna be okay." Sam reassured.

You screamed when a hand grabbed you by the ankle, "help! get off me! someone help!" you continued to yell. Tara held your hand tightly.

She saw Ethan at the bottom with his knife in his hand, a smirk plastered on his lips as he sucked your blood off his fingers.

"You heard her. now you’re hearing me. let her go, Tara." Ethan said with a low growl, "go to hell!" Sam screamed while glaring down at him.

Then your hand slipped, "shit, (Y/n) no!" Tara screamed, you fell to the ground with a thud and groaned in pain. you hurried and crawled away, but Ethan grabbed you by the legs and dragged you back, "No, no, no!" you yelled, looking for any weapon you could find close.

He turned you around and looked down at you with a crazed smile, his eyes glossing a bit because he had you right where he wanted you.

you were all his.

"Ethan, please. please don’t kill me, please." you begged, this must’ve triggered something in him because he went stiff, a frown on his lips appearing.

He cupped your cheek, "baby..why would you think I’d hurt you? wh..what? no, never. once this is all over you can leave with me, my dad, and sister. we wouldn’t have to worry about anything, it’ll be just us. ‘kay baby?" Ethan said while placing a kiss to your cheek.

you continued to sob, you tried pushing him away but you knew nothing was going to work. you were his and only his. It’s not like you didn’t mind it but you didn’t want it this way.

"Shh, my pretty baby. it’s gonna be okay." he whispered in your ear, something sharp stung you in the neck, you realized it was a needle — wha- what? why did he..?

Your eyes felt droopy, "’ts gonna be okay baby, I promise you." then you went limp in his arms. he got you exactly where he wanted you.

in his arms and only his arms. you were so good to him, no one was ever like that to him before. you were different — completely. that’s why he loved you so so so much.

nobody could take that away from him. not even family.

Note: Part two or..? I think this is good, amazing even. I really love the character so here’s my dedication to our precious bby Ethan & jack :))

#ethan landry #scream 6 x reader #xreader #tw:gore #tw:death #tw: language #scream 6 #scream vi

[treason-and-plot]

As soon as Roy exits the taxi he can Sonia’s voice again. He grits his teeth. She's going to haunt him for fucking ever.

“Thanks a lot dude,” he says to the driver, the words coming out wadded with cotton-wool balls. The last lot of coke he snorted in the bathroom of The Oaks didn't improve his mood at all, did nothing except suck every last drop of saliva from his mouth. The inside of his head feels like the fucking Al- Simharan desert. It’s just like that song by The Verve, the drugs don’t work anymore, they make it worse. But wait…maybe he’s taking the wrong drugs? Maybe he should take another white llama? Maybe he can convince Anya to get drunk with him, score some weed. Anything to get rid of Sonia’s voice echoing around his skull. It follows him into the elevator too: I need to cut off all contact with you. You know what, Sonia? he says out loud. Enjoy your little power trip while it lasts, because any second now I’m going to be walking through my front door and laying eyes on Anya, the love of my life, and I'm going to forget that you ever existed-

But the first person he lays eyes on when he walks in isn't Anya, but Anya's father Michael.

“Hello, Roy,” he says. “I think we all need to sit down and have a serious talk.”

#Roy #Michael #back to bridgeport #5 years later #tw: drugs mention #tw: language

[ilovemesomevincentprice]

For context: The word "f***ot" means sticks of wood. The movie is a spoof, and so he doesn't mean it in a derogatory way. I'm posting this as it is said in the film. In no way, am I fond of that word. Period. But this scene was funny... plus Vinny was Bisexual...so he can reclaim. 😍🖤

Vincent Price - Bloodbath at the House of Death (1984)

#vincent price #bloodbath at the house of death #bicon #bisexual god #i love him so much 😭😭😭 #hes so gender #and im here for it #god hes perfect #sexy even as a gilf #horror #old horror movies #vintage #movie #actor #handsome #gif #gifs made by me #gif set #tw: language #l33t #l33tspeak #trigger

[mitchelf-citadel]

Erm, actually, Maya is a highly quirky and relatable Dutch anime character.

There are some funny details hidden in here, be sure to take a closer look at the ground.

Ongezellig

(Don't take this too seriously)

#my art #digital painting #horror #meme #ongezellig #maya #shitpost #tw: language #emo

[ang3lik]

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑

synopsis: after you’re ex-girlfriend betrayed you back in woodsboro and became the new ghostface, what will it take for you to trust again? and what dark secret is the boy you ‘trust’ hiding? pairings: ethan landry x fem!reader, previously established amber freeman x fem!reader, sam carpenter x danny brackett, tara carpenter x chad meeks-martin and mindy meeks-martin x anika kayoko. series warnings: explicit language, sexual themes, fluff, angst, hurt, comfort, triggering topics, death, murder, violence and gore. series w/c: n/a

characters: ethan landry, tara carpenter, sam carpenter, kirby reed, hale weathers, chad meeks-martin, mindy meeks-martin, quinn bailey, danny brackett, anika kayoko and wayne bailey. series taglist: @astarborntowrite @liyahsocorro @anonoussy @gr4veyardg1rl

THIS STORY CONTAINS SCREAM SPOILERS

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐑

scared to trust someone again after amber. he showed you, you could trust him. chad had told you that he was basically harmless, very interest orientated, caring for friends, and very protective. mindy was still very cautious of him, not one to trust so easy after what had happened in woodsboro.

#triggering content #tw: language #tw: sex mention #tw: angst #tw: death #tw: murder #tw: violence #tw: gore #traitor: series #ethan landry #ethan landry x reader #amber freeman #sam carpenter #danny brackett #tara carpenter #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #anika kayoko #kirby reed #gale weathers #quinn bailey #wayne bailey #★ 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐒 ★ #— dirty daydreams ⋆ ˚｡⋆ #scream #scream v #scream 5 #scream 6 #scream vi #scream 2023

[torchflies]

The Five Names of Ice Kazansky (Girl!Ice Orthodox Jew!Ice) + Glossary of Terms

* I was super bored at my conference and wrote this on a napkin because I was having Jewish thoughts on naming 😎 💁🤷*

—

To be a Jew is to struggle with God — it's the first thing little Hadassah Tzabarit Kazansky learns in this life. 

—

She questions for the first time at six years old as Dassy, Rabbi Kazansky’s sharp-tongued little girl and now, as his only child.

“Abba?” Dassy asks him, holding his big hand in her smaller pair as they toss handfuls of dirt into her twin brother’s grave, “Why did Feivel die?”

Rabbi Kazansky takes his only living child into his arms as he answers, “You already know, zeeskeit. He had lymphoma, he was very sick.”

“But why?” She asks again, with the unfailing trust of a child. “Why did God take him away? He was ours.”

“No,” Her father says as tears drip down his cheeks and into his beard, “Feivel was not ours, just as you are not mine. Our children are gifts, Dassy, but they are only borrowed; we raise our children to leave us. Sometimes they stay in this world to do that and sometimes they do not.” 

—

When her mother dies, she is Hadassah. 

She sits by herself at the funeral, wearing a black dress that’s too long and too loose across her chest to be comfortable. But nothing is comfortable anymore, not when her mother is lying in an aron under the earth and everyone is talking about her like she isn’t sitting ten feet away from them.

There’s dirt under her nails from yesterday, when she had climbed the biggest tree in the shul garden to put an empty bird’s nest back from where it had fallen. She had slipped on the way back down and torn a hole in her tights; Rabbi Moskowitz’s wife, Miriam, had given her an extra pair with a smile. What will we do with you, Hadassah? 

She had spent the entire morning fixing her two thick braids, pulling them so tight that the blond curls didn’t bunch out at any angle, then redoing them again when they didn’t match. It took five tries to make them look perfect. She had pinned both plaits back with one of her mother’s favorite tichels, folding it so it held back her braids instead of covering her whole head. She didn’t have any black dresses, so she was forced to tug out one of her mother’s from her closet, feeling a bit like she was stealing. 

Hadassah, my Dassy. Her mother would say. You’ve gotten so big while I’ve been away. 

Her torn ribbon flutters against her neck and she shoves it down angrily.

She doesn’t want to cry in a room of alte makhsheyfes and alter cockers that she doesn’t know. It’s silly and childish, but all she wants is for her mother to wake up and take her home. 

But dead is dead and Goldie Kazansky is very dead. 

“Hadassah, are you alright?” 

Rabbi Moskowitz sits down beside her, his brown eyes doleful and sad. He shifts until one of his knees sits curled on the bench, regarding her softly and waiting until she’s ready to speak. He does the same thing when she sits in his office every Tuesday morning to practice for her Bat Mitzvah, letting her take her time with the text until she’s ready to talk to him about it. But nothing is right anymore, it’s Tuesday morning and her mother is dead. 

She shrugs, tugging on her right braid and staring out the window, watching a little blue bird hop around in the grass. Her Rabbi doesn’t say anything, he just waits. 

“Excuse me, Lev. Can I have a minute with her?” 

Rabbi Kazansky sits down beside her, in the wreckage of the only life she's ever known.

She falls into her father’s arms with a low sob, “I don't understand!” She cries, twelve years old and distraught, “Why would God take her away too?!”

Her father says nothing, he just rocks her and sings a nigun until her tears run dry. 

—

The day she meets her best-friend, she is Ice. 

Ice Kazansky, the Ice Queen, buries Hadassah and Dassy as far down as she can reach. She smiles with nothing but a mouthful of pretty, perfect teeth as her Academy classmates call her a frigid bitch, something not to be touched, and she shows them just how desperately their performances are wanting. 

She is a flawless pilot and she is ice: cold, and unfeeling until she ends anyone who gets too close. 

“Ron Kerner,” Her fourth RIO introduces himself, all six feet and four inches of smarmy ego that she doesn't have time for. “But you can call me whatever you please, sweetheart.”

She blinks at him, glacial and unforgiving, and on their first hop together: she rolls them, hanging them inverted until he pukes. 

“You really are an icy bitch.” He moans as he spits up on the tarmac. 

Ice just smiles and turns sharply to grab her third cup of coffee from the mess, not a hair out of place, and according to her classmates — barely human. No one speaks to her as she marches past, no one reaches out. 

“I’m sorry,” Kerner tells her later, pushing his plate of bacon towards her as some kind of peace offering. She instantly shakes her head, decades of lessons kicking in before she can stop herself. He looks so damn dejected that she allows herself a moment of — something. She wavers, reaching out.

She takes his dry toast, with a soft, “I don't eat meat.” 

“Oh.” He says, dark eyes wide. “Ever?”

He's inching closer to things that she doesn't want to explain, kashrut and observance, and being an Orthodox Jewish woman but also being everything that an Orthodox Jewish woman is not. How, in her community, she would have already been married with a baby on each hip — how that was a life she had wanted so badly for so long… until she was told it was all she could ever have. 

“Ever.” She says instead, hating the lie. 

“I’ll remember that, Kazansky.” He hums with a smile that makes him softer, kinder. He has warm eyes too and honey-brown hair that curls up at the ends, her RIO with his awful callsign — Slider. 

“Ice,” She corrects, even as he goes red at the memory of his insult.

“Ice.” He says and she finds that she likes the sound of her cruel epithet in his mouth. 

—

The day she falls in love, she is the Queen. 

The little gremlin has no idea how close he is to hitting the nail on the head — she is Hadassah, but also anything but. 

“Icy!” She somehow hears over the throng and almost rolls her eyes behind her shades, recognizing that lackadaisical voice and the only person in the world who calls her Icy. 

He's a memory, an old friend, a first kiss and the first of many hefty guilt spirals at eighteen, in a world so different from the one she had grown up in. He had been three years older than her then, still was, and had seemed so much wiser than her at twenty-one. But now, at twenty-six, she knows how young they both were. 

Still, the last she heard, Loosey Goosey Bradshaw was off getting married and having a baby, not frequenting the O Club in Miramar. Her cold eyes sweep the crowd and she only narrowly finds him, waving at her from the bar — lanky and jovial as ever. She doesn't smile, but she could have. She's missed him. “Hey! C’mere, I got someone for you to meet!” 

She follows her marching orders, letting his voice wash over her as it starts being audible over the pounding pop music. 

“Here she is, the best of the best — Ice Queen Kazansky. It's how she flies, Mav: ice-cold, no mistakes and I'm just warning you now, pal. If you get bored and do something stupid, she’s got you.” 

He's bent over double, giving a life lesson to the short, stocky young man beside him. Ice has half a foot on the boy and that's being generous — he’s tiny. He smiles from ear-to-ear when he sees her though, full of lust and ignorance, and she thinks of that one film that Slider’s been making her see at the drive-ins every few weeks now: Gremlins. 

“She could have me all the time if she wants.” The little cowboy drawls and Ice ignores him completely, only to raise an eyebrow at her old friend, no wedding ring in sight.

“Hey there, Bradshaw,” She intones, flat and bored, but Nick knows her well enough to pick up on the undercurrent of amusement there. “Odd place to hang out for a married man.” 

He goes a little red at that, flushing up to his eyebrows and she steals his Budweiser to cast her eyes over the crowd again as she sips, “Slider should be around here somewhere, I think you just missed him on the way to his latest crash and burn.” 

The little guy clears his throat, for what must be at least the second time, if his uppity attitude is indicative of anything specific. 

“Goose,” He announces, all bluster and no bite with those big teeth of his. “I think the Queen’s lost that lovin’ feeling.” 

Beside her, Ice’s old friend blanches bony white. “Nope. No, Mav. She hasn't, she really hasn't.” He's making slicing motions across his neck and for a moment, she's concerned about his blood pressure and the vein twitching at his temple. “Mav,” He hisses, so low that she almost misses it, “No.” 

“Actually, Goose.” Those bottle-green eyes fan over her, assessing for some soft spot that she doesn't have. She lets him try. “I think she has.”

The little thing grabs Nick by the wrist and drags him in the direction of the jukebox. Ice merely hums and lets them go, sipping on her free drink. 

She doesn't expect the serenade, nor does she expect the way her heart bottoms out or the way her lips tremble against the cold glass of her bottle. 

You never close your eyes anymore when I kiss your lips…

This maneuver is not recoverable and she can't eject.

Pete Mitchell is going to destroy her entire life, or maybe — he’ll give her a new one.

—

He does give her that new one, three years after they get married — Golda Helen Mitchell, named at a Zeved Habat for his mother and hers. 

— 

Glossary of terms:

Zeved Habat — naming ceremony for a baby girl

Hadassah — Hebrew name for Queen Esther

zeeskeit — Yiddish term of endearment similar to sweetheart

Kashrut — kosher dietary laws

Rabbi — a leader, both religious and otherwise, in the Jewish community and a teacher

Aron — a casket

Tichel — the head covering of a Jewish woman after marriage

Bat Mitzvah — the coming of age for a Jewish girl

Shul — synagogue, Jewish place of worship

Alte Makhsheyfe — Yiddish insult meaning old witch

Alter cocker — Yiddish insult meaning (annoying) old person

#jewish iceman kazansky #Female Iceman Kazansky #icemav #top gun #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky #Jewish culture/religion #Kit writes stuff #top gun 1986 #Written by a Jew #Tw: death #Tw: child death #Tw: misogyny #Tw: adultery #Tw: language

[igglemouse]

Episode 3 ~ The Investment

I don't have much planned for this week. There's Grill Day on Thursday which I have absolutely nothing planned for either and other than that? I guess we'll see what the week brings me.

For now, I'll have my breakfast all while thinking about how I need to shave my very hairy arms. Can't go out looking like a werewolf after all.

I'm downright fucking gorgeous, as you all know, but I'm not perfect. I suppose my flaw is that I occasionally grow a fur coat. Happens to the best of us, doesn't it? Men really freak out when your skin isn't as smooth as polished plastic or something too.

Episode List - Next

#the sims #the sims 4 #sims legacy #iggleverse #sims 4 legacy #my sims #generation 1 #araceli salcedo rebirth #TW: language

[snowyfrostshadows]

Gray Lies

Mario encounters Mr. L without his mask.

This both changes everything and absolutely nothing.

---

One final blast from Boomer and the (quite frankly) terrifying robotic head crashed and crumbled in on itself on top of the flat, empty landscape that the Sammer Kingdom once rested on.

Mario couldn't help the sigh of relief that escaped him at the sight.

Mr. L was a tough opponent, more so with mechanical aid, but without his L-Bot and the beating he'd taken earlier, Mario felt it was safe to say this fight was over.

"WHY CAN'T I BEAT YOU?!"

An angry voice howled from the wreckage as metal pieces began to move and shift from where Count Bleck's most annoying minion was attempting to free himself.

Another sigh escaped him at the sight. This time, one born of pity instead of relief.

As annoying and egotistical this guy was (seriously, he put Bowser's obnoxiousness to shame), Mario could not find it himself to refuse help to anyone. Even his enemies.

So, picking his path carefully through the pile of scrap metal, Mario made his way to where the cursing was coming from the loudest. (He wasn't sure, but he could have sworn a couple of the words were in Italian. But that was impossible...)

Pushing past the tinge of unease that crept up on him whenever he thought about or interacted with the Green Pain-in-the-Ass too long, Mario lightly tapped on the biggest piece of metal on where he thought might be where Mr. L was pinned.

The sudden pause in the angry rant over what would happen once free confirmed his suspicions of the other man's location.

"If you a back up a little, if you a can, I think I can-a get you out."

"Why? You think just because you help me, I'll give you that hunk of rock?"

Mario shrugged, forgetting for the moment Mr. L couldn't see it.

"That would be a nice but no. This may a be hard for you to understand, but there doesn't have to be a reason to help someone out."

"...well that's stupid."

"Do you want out of there or not?"

"Ugh. Fine! Sure! Be a big stupid hero! I'm only saying yes because you owe me one Red."

Ignoring for a moment what on earth Mr. L meant by him 'owing him' Mario set to work moving the metal piece enough to make an opening for the slimmer man to get through.

"He's out!" Came Tippi's cheerful voice, allowing Mario to let the heavy sheet of metal to fall back into place.

Not wanting the pixel to be alone with Mr. L for too long, Mario made his way back down to a less metal-filled space.

"Oh. That looks painful. Are you okay?"

"Tch. This? Tis just a flesh wound."

Mario felt himself freeze before forcing himself to move again.

He was just. Imagining it. Hearing things.

Plenty of people probably said that. Hell, this was a magical world. It was probably a common phrase.

But the inflection...

Swallowing, Mario moved closer to Mr. L and tapped his shoulder to get his attention.

Mr. L turned, sneer on his face as he glared down at him. "What? I thought you said you didn't want the stupid rock."

Whatever Mario was going to say, had planned to say, died on tongue.

Mr. L. Wasn't wearing his mask.

Mario didn't know where it was but he didn't care.

For the first time, he could see the other man's face clearly and he couldn't believe how stupid he'd been.

Sure, he wasn't always the smartest guy around, but it shouldn't have taken him a lack of fabric to notice that Mr. L was. That Mr. L was...

"Luigi." He breathed and Mr. L's-his brother's, god, how had he not noticed, eyes widened.

"The name's Mr. L not-"

Mario didn't (couldn't) let him finish as he practically threw himself at his brother, wrapping him in a tight hug.

"I'm so sorry! I should've a known-! But I-I thought you were dead or. Or missing and that I h-had to save you!"

A hand grabbed his shoulder and roughly pushed him away.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Luigi yelled at him, eyes wide. "Did L-Bot actually land a solid hit on you?"

His face twitched like he wasn't sure whether to be thrilled or horrified at that.

Mario frowned, feeling like he was missing something important but for the life of him, he couldn't put his finger on it.

"No! I'mma fine! Your robot...wait. Did you build that? I didn’ know you were that good at mechanics! Nevermind, not the point, I know. I'm just. So happy you're okay!"

Luigi was staring at him like he didn't know what he was looking at.

"Luigi?"

His brother scowled, annoyance practically rolling off him in waves as he began patting his jumpsuit down looking for something.

"Don't call me that." He snarled at him. Mario couldn't help it. He flinched. Not once, in his entire life had he heard his brother snarl at someone.

Mutter stuff under his breath, yes. But nothing aggressive or or harder than the rare ill-thought comment.

"...Luigi?" He repeated, softer, not sure if his brother would even hear him. But, judging by the gritting of his teeth, he had.

"I told you." He growled as he stomped closer to him, something gripped tightly in his hand. "The name is Mr. L."

Before he could ask (or demand really) why his brother was so hung up on that, Luigi had grabbed his chin hard in one hand and roughly moved his head while shining a bright light in his eyes.

Mario pushed him away.

"Luigi what the hell?!"

"Oh I'm sorry for checking if the supposed Hero of the Light Prognostics has a concussion or not!"

"I don't have a concussion! Your stupid robot barely hit me!"

"Oh really? Then WHY in Count Bleck's name are you spouting nonsense?! If this is some sort of trick to finish me off, or or take the busted up, useless Pure Heart, it's really fucking weird!"

"It's not nonsense! You're Luigi, my brother! And I'mma so so sorry I didn't a realize sooner. I promise, I'm not going to leave you behind again."

Luigi's face fell, his expression one of disbelief and...fear?

Slowly, he began backing away as an almost uneasy grin was plastered onto his face.

"Brother. That's. A-ha. That's a good one. A lil too desperate for a my tastes. What? Didja get a tired of almost losing to me thata much you had to to make up some dumb story to 'tempt me back from the dark side'?" Luigi attempted to do air quotes at that before wincing slightly. "Well it's not going to work! I'm Count Bleck's most promising minion! I would never turn my back on him and his plans with the void!"

Oh.

That's what he'd been missing.

If Luigi was Mr. L (he was, he'd know him anywhere, should have known him the moment he first saw him) then. Then Luigi had joined Count Bleck.

Who was trying to destroy all words.

Luigi was trying to destroy all worlds.

He felt cold. Hollow.

Faintly, he wondered if this was how the former inhabitants of this world had felt right before the Dark Void had swallowed them up.

...maybe he'd been swallowed up as well.

That'd make more sense than Luigi turning his back on everything they'd ever believed or fought for and gleefully watching the very destruction of well, everything.

"Mario? Are you okay?" came Tippi's gentle voice beside him.

He wanted so badly to say yes. That of course he was fine. He was a Hero; he always bounced back from anything life threw at him.

But he couldn't get the words out. He could only stare at his brother and wonder what had happened. Was this. Was this his fault? Was he actually a bad older brother? Why else would Luigi do all this if he hadn't done something to push him this way?

Luigi, for his part had stopped moving back and was watching him in turn as well.

The anger and disbelief that had twisted his face into an unrecognizable mask had softened into something that could be considered concern.

It was still too hard and stiff for it to be one hundred percent familiar, but a lifetime of knowing each other meant he could still read his brother like the back of his hand. Even if...even if they were more like strangers than brothers now...

"Are you...having a stroke? Not that I care or anything. I just want to know if it'd be kinder to take you out now than let you drag out what's left of your sad existence this pitifully."

A wet, almost choked sounding laugh escaped him.

He didn't mean to laugh, there was nothing funny about Luigi threatening to kill him out of 'kindness' but what else was he supposed to do?

This whole adventure had taken such a dark turn. He didn't think anything could top the horror and failure he'd felt seeing what had become of the Sammer Kingdom but this. This 'reunion', if he could even call it that, with Luigi sure came close.

"Oh, aside from skipping ahead a few pages of the script, our oh so noble and brave Hero in Red is just fine."

Both brothers turned away from each other to look at the source of the obnoxious voice.

Mario felt his stomach drop as he took in the ever-grinning jester. Great. Just what he needed on top of his already crummy day.

(That guy.)

"Ugh. What do you want Dimentio?"

Dimentio tilted his head slightly as he took in the scene, gaze lingering on Luigi in a way that made Mario's skin crawl.

"Oh, I was just stopping by to cut free an annoying string off my dear Count's coattails. But lucky for me, it looks like I can take care of two loose threads in one swift blow. "

Luigi scowled. "Then get going. I'm already dealing with something here. Go bother someone else."

Dimentio leaned closer to his brother, a dark glint peeking through one of the slits in his mask.

"Tell me, Mr. L, is this level of obtusity thanks to Nastasia's hard work or have you always been dumber than your brother?"

Luigi stumbled back. "What? He's not my brother!"

"Says the man with no memory." Dimentio sighed as he floated back and away from Luigi. "Seems you really are just that stupid. Pity."

Dimentio probably hadn't intended for his words to affect one of the brothers positively, but Mario couldn't help feeling like a tremendous weight had been lifted off of him.

Luigi didn't know what he was doing. Not really.

His brother must have hit his head or something and had had the bad luck to be taken in by Bleck and tricked to be somebody he wasn't.

This could all be fixed!

But first, he had to hold back on his feelings of elation and relief and watch Dimentio for the moment he was distracted enough to grab his brother and leave.

"I'm not stupid!" Luigi snapped. "I built a robot! Two of them! He-" Luigi jabbed a finger angrily in Mario's direction "Can't tell a camshaft from a crankshaft and don't even get me STARTED on the time he tried to 'fix' the vacuum and ended up coating the whole room in dust!"

Dimentio placed a hand under his chin. "My my my. What some very specific examples of a man you don't know."

Luigi's hand dropped as he stood frozen, confusion coloring his face. "I don't...how?"

Dimentio tutted in mock sympathy. "L. L. L. L. L. It's not your fault Nastasia pulled out all the stops for you. Don't ask me why as you're about as important as stray lint on a coat, but I guess even the strongest hypnosis fades after a while, no matter how weak and pathetic the subject is."

"I'm. I'm not-. I'm Count Bleck's most promising minion! I-I always have been loy-"

"Since you first woke up." Dimentio interrupted coldly. "And what 'loyal servant' thinks they can just ignore a direct order from their master? Face it L, you're on the fast track to betraying Count Bleck. I think it's better for everyone if you never show you face around anyone again. Lucky for you, I'm here to do just that."

Dimentio's ever-present grin seemed to widen as he raised a hand slowly into the air, fingers pressed in a familiar gesture from the last time Mario had the misfortune to fight him.

It didn't take a genius to guess what the stupid clown was going to do.

And while Mario had no doubt that his brother would normally be able to dodge the incoming attack or even hold his own even as a twisted, jerk version of himself, right now, after Dimentio's taunts and ripping him apart, Luigi looked...lost. He wasn't even sure if his brother was even aware of what was happening around him anymore.

Fortunately for him though, he wasn't facing Dimentio alone.

Mouth a tight line, Mario summoned a Bomb Blast from Boomer and chucked it straight at Dimentio's stupid, fat head before diving for his brother, grabbing his arm and flipping the two of them between dimensions.

A small, petty, spiteful part of himself took dark satisfaction at hearing Dimentio's howl of pain and shock at having a bomb go off in his face before the sound abruptly cut off as he and Luigi entered a more three dimensional (but still empty) world. He couldn't even pull up an ounce of guilt for the dirty trick.

Dimentio had threatened his brother. He should consider himself lucky a cheap shot was all Mario had time for at the moment.

As it stood, they needed to get out of there as soon as possible. Preferably back to the others and then everything could be one step closer to being normal again.

Speaking of...

Mario glanced down at his brother as he pulled him to his feet and began dragging him towards where he thought the portal back to Flipside might be back in the normal dimension.

"Where's. Where's Dimentio?"

"Busy."

Luigi frowned before noticing that Mario had his arm in a vice grip.

"Let go of me!"

"No."

"If you think I'm just going to let you take me prisoner-!"

Mario came to a sharp stop, accidentally forcing his brother to stumble to do the same.

"I'mma not taking you prisoner. I'mma taking you back with me. Like I promised."

Luigi stared at him for a moment before scowling as he tried to rip Mario's hand off his arm with his free hand.

"What makes you think I want to go back with you?! We're not-" Luigi's mouth twisted like he wasn't sure what he wanted to end that sentence with before settling on a growl. "Let me go!"

Mario glared right back at him. "Oh sure. So you can a what? Stand around and let Dimentio kill you?" He snapped.

"He wasn't going to kill m-"

"Yes! He was! If I hadn't stopped him-" "YOU WHAT?!" "And grabbed you-" "OH MY GOD!" "You'd be DEAD!"

Luigi stared at him wide-eyed. "... they're going to think I'm a traitor." He rasped.

“Were you not listening? It sounded like they already did! Why else would Dimen-"

"L-Like I ever believe anything that clown ever says!" Luigi laughed but even with how out of sync they were, Mario could still tell it was forced.

"I-I mean. W-Why would Count Bleck have me hypnotized to follow him? I always would have been his loyal minion without question! He's so great and clever and and-"

Mario tightened his grip slightly as his brother trailed off, desperately trying to find other attributes he admired enough to follow someone cruel enough to destroy all life across all worlds.

"No," he said quietly, "No, you wouldn't."

Luigi frowned at that, but whatever thoughts or feelings he had to Mario's comment he kept frustratingly to himself.

Although...maybe...the fact he wasn't arguing it outright...meant that he was coming around to the truth and not sticking with whatever lies Bleck had filled his head with.

Reassured by that thought, Mario started moving again pulling his brother close behind.

"...if you let go I...promise I won't...run away or anything else you think I might do."

Mario paused and looked at his brother curiously. "...promise?"

Luigi looked torn between annoyance and glowering "Dio. Yes. Do you want it in writing?"

"No! I trust you, Luigi."

His brother's mouth twisted like he'd bitten into something sour at that and Mario couldn't help feeling a small pang at the reaction.

But, a promise was a promise and he did trust Luigi. Mostly. 'Mr. L' was a lil different but he was still Luigi deep down so it still counted. Probably.

Curiously, after letting go, Luigi didn't move away or try to start up another fight. He just stood there for a moment, flexing his fingers a little before sighing and removing a bit of fabric wrapped around the arm Mario had been gripping.

To his confusion, the bit of fabric almost looked damp. But, that was impossible. There had been nothing in the empty landscape of the void that could have made anything wet and he himself had barely touched Luigi during the fight let alone with anything that could have caused a damp spot.

And then his eyes trailed away from the fabric scrap to the area it had previously covered and he nearly had a heart attack.

Luigi's arm was alarmingly bloody. Not as bad as it had presumably been to warrant a makeshift bandage in the first place but still enough that he wanted to shake him for taking the thing off.

What the hell was he thinking?!

"Put that back on!"

Luigi flinched slightly at the shout before glaring at him.

"Sure. Lemme do that right after I wring the blood out of it."

Then, probably just to annoy him personally, Luigi balled up the disgusting mess of fabric and shoved it into a pants pocket.

"LUIGI!" Mario shouted, scandalized.

Other than rolling his eyes, Luigi ignored him and began taking off his scarf with one hand.

"Wait. What are you a doing?"

"What's it look like? I'm changing the wrapping."

Mario sighed and moved closer. "And you couldn't have waited till we got back to the others why?"

Luigi blinked like that thought hadn't even crossed his mind. Maybe it hadn't.

"...I. wanted something drier?" He scowled. "Why do you even care? It'll only be a couple minutes."

"We're brothers." Mario couldn't help wondering how many times he'd have to say something that should be so obvious before it finally sunk into Luigi's head. "Of course I care."

He reached for the scarf, trying not to let the suspicious look his brother was shooting him bother him. "Let me. Two hands are better than one."

"...fine."

"Grazie."

Scarf now in hand, Mario took a closer look at the wound. It. Wasn't as bad as he'd first thought. Yes, there was blood and Luigi might need a couple stitches, but, for the most part, it looked like keeping it wrapped was still the best option at the moment.

"What happened anyway?"

Luigi snorted. "You destroyed L-Bot, remember?"

A cold feeling started to spread through him.

"And...me doing that. Caused this?"

"In a roundabout way, I guess. I bumped into a loose piece trying to get out but eh. That's what I get for not beating you."

Mario paused what he was doing, afraid that his hands might be shaking too much to wrap the scarf tight enough that it'd do any good and looked at his brother.

"Luigi. I am so, so sorry. I didn't mean-"

Luigi recoiled slightly. "I KNOW! Geeze, relax. God. Are you always this weepy? Don't answer that." He ran his free hand through his hair, disrupting his hat a little. "If it makes you feel better, I don't. Hold it against you. Not because I remember anything, but because you got me out of the pile of scrap metal faster than I'd have by myself. So. We're square or whatever."

"But-"

Luigi heaved a heavy sigh as he dragged his hand down his face.

"So. Brothers. Am I right in saying that not only am I the more handsome and dashing between the two of us, but also older?"

Mario could feel his mouth twitch slightly towards a smile. He was still upset over having indirectly being the reason his brother was hurt but, it was comforting to see some of the old, familiar Luigi shine through. He couldn't count the number of times his brother had abruptly changed the subject to something completely different if he saw him spiraling or getting stuck on a detail or two.

He hadn't done it as much as he had since they'd fallen into the Mushroom Kingdom, but it was still nice to see the habit was still there despite the memory loss.

Turning back to his earlier task, Mario was relieved to see his hands were no longer shaking.

"Technically, I'm older by about fifteen minutes or so. We're twins."

"...coulda fooled me."

Mario bit back a snort. "Well someone decided to shoot up like a giraffe in eighth grade and throw off the whole identical theme we had going."

"Not my fault you didn't get the memo." Luigi muttered low enough under his breath Mario doubted he'd have heard him if hadn't been as close as he was. Honestly, he wasn’t sure Luigi himself was aware of what he’d just said.

But the fact that he’d thrown back a familiar line in an old argument, unconsciously or not, was enough to buoy Mario’s mood back to it’s usual good cheer. All this was temporary, and the sooner they got back to the others, the quicker the rest of Luigi’s normal self would come back and this whole working-for-Bleck thing could be forgotten about.  

Smiling more widely now, Mario tied the end of the scarf firmly enough that it wouldn't fall off but not so tight that it would make the wound any worse.

"There we go!"

"Great." Luigi frowned slightly before looking away. "So. How much longer till we get to wherever it is you're taking me?"

It was Mario's turn to frown. "I'm not sure."

Luigi spun back around, eyes wide. "What?! Are you telling me you've just been dragging me around without any idea of where you're going?! What is wrong with you?!"

Mario shrugged, only half listening to his brother and did some thinking.

They'd been in this dimension for awhile now, most of it at a quick pace so...maybe they were close enough to the door back to Flipside by now? It couldn't hurt to check.

Taking a couple (quick) steps back from Luigi so he wouldn't accidentally get pulled with him, Mario flipped back to the flatter, second dimension.

Unsurprisingly, it was still empty of all life, with just the occasional rare broken remnant of the vibrant world that had once been here.

The only silver lining that Mario could think of was that Dimentio wasn’t waiting for him to land a retaliation blow from his earlier attack before escaping with Luigi nor could he really be seen anywhere.

Meaning he could safely take his brother out of the more detailed dimension without fear of Dimentio targeting him or worse, persuading Luigi to start fighting him again.

Plus, he was about seventy percent sure he knew where they were in relation to the door so it wouldn't be much longer of a walk.

Satisfied with his little reconnaissance, Mario flipped back to where he’d left his brother, accidentally startling him.

“Sorry.”

Luigi shot him a dark look.

“For startling you just now.”

“Is that it?” Luigi asked icily. Mario couldn’t help staring at him curiously, unsure on what else he could have possibly done to upset his brother.

“You. Left.”

Mario blinked, still lost at what Luigi was trying to get at. “Yes?”

“Dio aiutami.” Luigi muttered. “How does a literal child have more sense than you do?” He took a deep breath and fixed a hard look at Mario. “You left. Without warning. Leaving me stuck someplace literally no one else can access!”

“I was a gonna come back!”

“How would I know that?! I don’t know you!”

Mario felt like he’d been slapped. “You’re my brother. Mia famiglia. I’d always come back for you.”

Luigi snorted and crossed his arms. “Right. Just like you did before Count Bleck did. Oh, wait. You didn’t.”

Mario couldn't stop himself from flinching at that. “That’s not fair. I wasn’t there. If I was, I’d have a never lost you.” You wouldn’t be like this he doesn’t add.

Luigi narrows his eyes, as if guessing what he was thinking and scowled. “Sounds like a you problem.”

“Weegee-”

“Don’t call me that! My name is Mr. L!”

"I'M NOT CALLING YOU THAT!" Mario roared back before slapping his hand over his mouth and turning away from Luigi, frustrated with himself.

Luigi wasn't himself.

Luigi wasn't himself.

Luigi wasn't himself.

He couldn't get mad at him. Stars knew what he'd been through to end up acting like a. Like a testa di cazzo. And while, a small part of him could acknowledge that he probably should be calling him 'Mr. L' like he wanted, a bigger, stubborn, more selfish part of him refused to.

It felt wrong to throw something as big as a title between them.

They'd known each other their whole lives, were closer to each other than anyone else in the whole world.

To be that formal with each other...with Luigi...was wrong.

Slowly, he pulled his hand off his face and sighed. Maybe...he was being unfair. He couldn't call him the name Bleck had given him, but maybe. They could come to a compromise?

But what on earth could he call hi- “...Mario?”

Mario froze before slowly turning back around to face Lui-Mr.-his tw-the stranger wearing his brother’s face and almost cried.

The nervous unsurety was so familiar it hurt. If he wasn’t still holding himself back, wasn’t still looking at him with the barest hint of mistrust, like he didn’t know him, then there was no doubt in Mario’s mind that he’d be by his brother’s side to offer comfort and trying to boost his confidence back up right this very second.

But that wasn’t his brother.

Not really and maybe he’d never be again.

“What.” he said tiredly, completely and utterly drained from this whole mess of an adventure.

The other man bit his bottom lip, uncertainty in his eyes. “You don’t. Lose it. Like that.”

Mario blinked. “What.” he repeated dumbly.

Mr. L frowned and rolled his eyes, some of his earlier annoying bluster coming back. “Lose it. The whole.” he waved a hand “Snapping you just did. Not even when Ashbreath kidnaps Miss Pretty in Pink.” a small snort escaped him. “Don’t know why, if anyone deserves a good scolding it’s him…” Mr. L frowned again and eyed him curiously. “But you don’t. Ever. You’re always...chipper. It’s annoying. So. That. Outburst just now. That’s not you.”

Mario’s mouth felt dry as he stared at Lu-his brother. “I thought. You didn’t know me.”

His brother grimaced and looked away. “I don’t. Not really. I just know you don’t lose your temper like that. I mean really. My name? Would it be so hard for you to call me Mr. L?”

“Yes.”

His brother looks back at him again and Mario isn’t sure, but if he didn’t know any better, he’d swear something crumples in his expression before it’s gone as he throws his head back and groans.

“Fine. You win. Bambino drammatatico. You can call me Luigi.” Luigi’s mouth twists like he’s still not sure of his own name. “But if you even attempt to call me ‘Weegee’ again, I’ll give you a beating that’ll make your last fight with the world’s dumbest, ugliest turtle look like a picnic.”

“Thank you, Luigi. That. That a means a lot.”

“Ugh. Don’t mention it. Ever.”

Mario can’t help a small smile. He was being stupid earlier. Luigi would always be his brother, no matter what happened. And, this whole ‘Mr. L’ thing was bound to go away eventually, right?

He just had to keep reminding himself of that fact.

“I think I know where we are by the way.”

Luigi raised a brow. “You think?”

Mario shrugged. “As much as can in this world. I’m pretty sure the door back to Flipside is close by.”

He moved closer and hesitantly placed a hand on Luigi’s arm. “Ready?”

“I guess so. Don’t know why you’re so nervous. Everything’s dead. Teleport us over or whatever it is you do.”

Mario bit his tongue and quietly flipped the two of them back to the regular, flat dimension they were more used to.

It was still empty.

Void of all life and color.

A reminder of his failure and what lay in wait for the rest of the connecting worlds if he couldn’t stop Bleck and his terrifying all-consuming void.

Tightening his grip on his brother’s arm, Mario trudged ahead. Judging by Luigi’s callous tone right before they’d flipped from one dimension to the next, he didn’t want to look back and see what sort of expression he was wearing.

If it was some sort of sick glee or or pride on his brother’s face at seeing a once vibrant world gone, then there was a very good chance he’d go down another depressive spiral and he doubted Luigi would bother pulling him out of it again.

Better to just keep going. Find the door. Get out and hope once his brother was around normal people again, their friends, then he’d be able to drop the whole Mr. L mindset faster.

Thankfully, the walk back to the door that would take them back to Flipside Tower ended up not being as long as he’d first thought it’d be. The deep, rich blue was a welcome sight after seeing nothing but white for so long.

“Huh.” Luigi muttered as he pulled his arm out of Mario’s grip and moved closer to the door and placed a hand against it. “Not bad. Not as nice as the ones back at the castle of course, but the craftsmanship is nice. No wonder it survived the void.”

Mario stared at him. “What?”

Luigi looked at him like he was an idiot. “The energy coming off this thing. Can’t you feel it? It’s.” Luigi frowned and waved his hands. “Y’know?”

Mario looked back at the door. He didn’t feel anything. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t giving off any energy. Maybe it was electrical? Luigi told him once, after getting his Thunder Hand, that he sometimes felt the power running through their house or when or where lighting was going to strike during a storm. Kind of like how Mario found himself more aware of sources of heat or fire sometimes.

So it was probably that. But he had a feeling trying to explain all that would just give them both a headache so he just shrugged.

“Maybe. But it’s y’know. A portal in the shape of a door? I wouldn’ be surprised if it wasn’t giving something off.”

Luigi frowned and looked at the door again. “Maybe…”

Placing his own hand against the door, Mario pushed forward, relieved to find it still open and lead back to the Tower. They were so close.

“Come on.”

Luigi quietly followed behind him and already, Mario could feel some of the tension he’d been carrying since coming back to the Sammer Kingdom leave him as he walked down the hallway full of doors.

Yes, the swirling, glowing vortex of purple just out of the corner of his eye served as a reminder of how little time they had left to stop Bleck was. BUT he had his brother back, possibly another Pure Heart depending on how well he was able to persuade Luigi to give it back, and Merlon was sure to be able to point him in the direction of the final Heart and help his brother shake off Bleck’s influence fully. And then all of this nightmare of an adventure could be one step closer to being done and behind him forever.

Belatedly, about halfway down the hall, Mario realized he didn’t hear Luigi following right behind him anymore.

Turning, Mario was surprised to see his brother had stopped at some point and was just staring at the swirling vortex looming over them.

“Luigi?”

His brother didn’t respond.

Concerned, Mario backtracked till he was at Luigi’s side and lightly shook him. “Bro?”

Luigi jumped slightly before looking down at him and scowled. “What?”

“You were just. Standing here. Are you okay?”

Luigi blinked before shooting a quick look at the void and frowned. “Yeah. Peachy.” His frown deepened slightly. “I guess I just...got caught up looking at the vortex up there. I don’t think I’ve ever seen it before.”

Mario nodded. “Got it. It. Is a pretty scary isn’t it? Looming over everything, getting bigger…” He gave his brother a light pat and one of his brighter smiles. “But we’ll stop it before it destroys any more worlds!”

“...Sure you will.” Luigi replied flatly before suddenly pushing past him. “That the thing that’ll get us a outta here?”

Mario stumbled a little as he quickly reoriented himself to find Luigi gesturing towards the white elevator box at the end of the hallway.

“Yes. Is som-”

“Wonderful. Pick up the pace Shorty. You’re on a time crunch remember?”

Mario watched in slight confusion as Luigi nearly ran towards the elevator. That was...weird. He looked up at the swirling void near the tower and frowned. Did. Seeing the mechanism of Count Bleck’s form of destruction instill some form of guilt in his brother?

“Oh my god! Why are you so slow?! Do you have a date or something with that thing!?”

Mario sighed. Whatever Luigi’s reasoning, it wasn’t important right now. What was, was catching up to his brother before he decided to ditch him. And having to try to finding him again.

With a light jog, Mario quickly caught up to his brother.

“Finally.” Luigi muttered, glaring at the elevator’s doors and stubbornly refusing to look at him. “Any longer and I’d have to apologize to that oversized reptile for thinking he was the slowest thing on the planet.”

“You seem to be in a rush.” Mario started cautiously; half-hoping his brother would say he regretted his current/past actions.

“Yeah well, the view here sucks.” Luigi snarled as he slammed a finger on the elevator button. Distantly, Mario wondered how many times his brother had pressed it before he’d gotten there.

Almost a second later, there was a light ping and the doors had barely started opening before his brother marched into the box.

“Luigi-” Mario started as he followed after him. “The vacuum thing. Did that really happen?” Luigi suddenly interrupted, throwing him completely for a loop. “What?” he asked weakly.

“You trying to fix a vacuum. Was that real?”

Mario blinked and couldn’t help staring at Luigi dumbly. It. Took him a couple of seconds to realize what exactly he was talking about. That part of the exchange with Dimentio felt like it had happened ages ago.

He wasn’t sure why Luigi was bringing it back up again out of the blue like this, but it all honesty, he didn’t mind answering. Maybe this meant his brother was willing to try to remember who he was supposed to be without anymore fights first.

“Yes. That’s real.”

“Why would you do that? You suck at fixing stuff.”

Mario rubbed the back of his neck and looked away in slight embarrassment.

“It was supposed to be a surprise for your birthday. You’d been so busy that week with a bunch of projects for other people that you’d let...some of our own stuff fall to the background. And you a kept complaining about not havin’ any a time to fix the vacuum that I thought...maybe I could a do it. One less a thing for you to a worry about.”

Luigi leaned back and tipped his head against the wall. “Huh. Y’know, you coulda of just got me a toolbox. Woulda of saved on the cleaning bill I bet.”

Mario couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him at that. “You said that last time too.”

An amused smirk crossed Luigi’s face. “Well that just means I’m always right, doesn’t it?”

Another laugh escaped him at that. “Most of the time. Maybe. I can think of a few times you were wrong.”

Luigi’s smirk turned into an achingly familiar teasing grin. “I dunno. I don’t think those times count if I don’t remember them.”

“I think they do. I’ve got a few people who could back me up on you being dumb.”

Luigi snorts as the doors ping, announcing they’ve arrived at the bottom of the tower. “Whatever you say Red; I still don’t think it counts.”

Not bothering to wait for a reply, Luigi quickly stepped out of the elevator and onto the main street of Flipside. Rolling his eyes, Mario followed after him.

“Would it a kill you to wait two seconds?”

Luigi shrugged as he scanned the street. “Where to now?”

“Not too far, Merlon’s house is right next door.”

Pausing only long enough to make sure Luigi was following him, Mario led the way. As towns he’d visited went, Flipside was nice. Cobblestone paths, old style homes and buildings. It had a nice, cozy, almost industrial feel to it.

He couldn’t help wonder what Luigi would have thought of Flipside if he was in his right mind.

“Yeesh. Is that the guy’s house? It looks like a rainbow threw up on it but missed a few colors.”

Mario sighed.

It’d probably be the exact opposite of that.

“Luigi, please don’t insult Merlon.”

“The man is insulting himself if he thinks any of that works. I mean. There’s like fifty stars on the front of the house alone. Talk about tacky.”

“Luigi.”

Luigi groaned. “Fine. I won’t insult your dumb best friend forever over his clearly questionable design choices.”

“Grazie.”

Taking a deep breath, Mario opened the door, just barely resisting the urge to drag his brother behind him as they entered.

Just a little while longer. Just a little while longer and then Luigi could be himself again.

“Oh ho! Our Hero has returned! Tell me, do you have the-” Marlon paused as he caught sight of Luigi behind him. “Who’s that?”

Mario gave the wizard a wide grin. “This is my brother, L-”

“Luigi?!”

Peach gasped as she entered the room behind Marlon. “You’re okay!”

Before Mario could warn her, or say anything really, she had closed the distance between them to throw her arms around his brother. “I was so worried for you after that dumb wedding fell apart with everyone running all over the place. Are you okay? Where were you?”

Mario couldn’t help wincing as Luigi pushed her off of him and took a couple steps back. “I don’t know what it’s like in your kingdom, Princess, but buy a guy dinner first before you throw yourself at him.” He threw her a smarmy look that made Mario want to die just looking at it. “I mean, I know I’m irresistible, but get a hold of yourself.”

Peach’s jaw dropped as she looked between the two brothers before settling on Mario. “...Are you sure this is your brother?”

Mario barely had a chance to open his mouth before a familiar roar shook the house.

“What is that Mr. L PUNK doing here?! Get away from my wife!”

Luigi’s face split into a wide smile. “Finally someone knows who I am! You’re not as dumb as you look, Spikes for Brains!”

“WHAT DID YOU JUST CALL ME?!”

“Spikes for Brains! Or is that too hard for your dumb little lizard brain to wrap itself around?”

Luigi jumped away from Mario’s outstretched hand, eyes still locked on Bowser. “And to answer your questions…” His smile turned sharp, making Mario fear what would come out of his brother’s mouth next. This time, instead of trying to grab him, he aimed for a tackle; half-hoping an impact with the floor would knock whatever was driving him to insult a giant fire-breathing turtle right back out of him.

Unfortunately, Luigi somehow saw that coming as well and dodged at the last second with a stupid spin that left Mario flat on the floor and him right in front of Bowser’s furious face.

“I thought Mario could have an arch rival that he wouldn’t be embarrassed to be seen hanging around with.” Luigi’s eyes flicked down to Bowser’s claws before darting back up to his face. “I don’t see any rings. Marriage problems, roba calda?”

Bowser let out a low growl that usually meant he was about two seconds from setting something or someone on fire when Mario grabbed Luigi from the back of his shirt and pulled him out of Bowser’s face.

“What. Is. Wrong. With. You?!?” he hissed as he dragged him back towards the door. “When I asked you not to insult Merlon, I didn’t a mean you could insult everyone else in the house!”

Luigi shrugged. “You should have been more specific. Besides, he started it.”

Mario dragged his free hand down his face and took a deep breath.  

Of all the things Count Bleck had done to his brother’s personality, was making him act like a literal five-year-old really necessary?

“Well I’m ending it. Just. Wait here for a moment while I catch everyone else up. Try not to start any more fights.”

Luigi just rolled his eyes before leaning against the door and gave him a flat look. “I won’t if he won’t.”

Mario sighed. Good enough he supposed.

Turning, he clapped his hands and headed back to the others, hoping his smile didn’t look as strained as he felt.

“So. As I was saying, I found my brother Luigi. He’s uh. Having some a memory problems…”

Peach frowned slightly. “Mario...issues with memory don’t erm. Change someone’s personality that...um, that is to say…”

“He may also have a been hypnotized.” Mario interrupted quickly before turning to look at Merlon. “But you can undo that, can’t you?”

“UGH! I shouda known you just brought me here to mess with my head too. Bet you had a big ol’ laugh with Dimentio about it too. L-ater Losers.”

Mario barely had time to feel his heart leap up his throat at the threat of losing Luigi again when his brother gave a startled yelp from Bowser picking him up from the back of his shirt.

He didn’t know what the Koopa King was doing next to his brother or even when he’d made his way to the door without him noticing, but Mario was grateful for the big lug regardless.

“You seriously want me to believe this mouthy, rude, disrespectful minion of Bleck’s is Green ‘Stache? This guy?”

Luigi made to swing an arm at Bowser before wincing. “I’ll show you ‘rude’ if you don’t let me go right this instant you you walking bowl of turtle soup!”

Bowser raised an eyebrow before shooting Mario an unimpressed look. “Yeah, I don’t buy it. How’d you get duped this badl-?”

Bowser paused at a light touch from Peach.

“Are you hurt, Lu-Mr. L?”

Luigi paused in his attempts to get Bowser to free him to shoot Peach a suspicious glare. “You a empath or something?”

“No, I just saw you wince just now...and if I’m not mistaken, that’s your scarf wrapped around your arm, correct?”

“...Yeah so? It’s already taken care of.”

Peach clasped her hands and gave Luigi a soft smile. “Well, I can be a pretty good healer. If you want, I can take a look at your arm and do my best to fix you up.”

Luigi frowned for a moment before shooting her a cocky grin. “Well if you insist.”

“Always.” Peach glanced back up at Bowser and gave him one of her sweeter smiles. “If you could let him down?”

Bowser snorted. “Why? I don’t think he deserves to waste any of your ti-” Bowser froze as Peach trailed her hand over one of his. “Please? It’d mean ever so much to me.”

Bowser blinked before looking away before his blush could get to big. “F-Fine. But I’m going to supervise! No way I’m going to let you be alone with this scoundrel! Who knows what he’d do!”

“Of course. Thank you Bowser.”

As Mario moved to follow the three of them to a quieter place in the study, he was stopped by Merlon.

“Mario, if I may speak to you for a moment?”

“Of a course! We didn’ finish our conversation before all of...that.” Mario waved a hand semi-nervously before pushing on. “I a swear, he’s not a normally like that. So if you can help me undo whatever Bleck did to him-”

Merlon placed a hand on Mario’s moving one. “My dear boy; I am afraid there’s nothing I could do, even if I wanted to. Magics of the Mind are a delicate, tricky thing even for the masters of that craft, which I am not. If I were to even attempt what you are asking of me, I fear I would only make things worse.”

Mario’s heart sank. “What. What about the other Sages? Maybe one of them-?”

Merlon shook his head sadly. “I am afraid not. None of us ever desired to study that particular path.”

“Then...is he. Gonna be like this...forever?”

“That I cannot say. As I said the mind is a delicate thing. But it is also wondrous. It can recall the most smallest of details at any given time while continuously capable of creating and holding new memories. Your brother may come to himself in time or he may not. But would he still not be your brother?”

Mario ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Of course. Luigi will always be my brother. It just. Wouldn’t be the same…”

Merlon nodded. “I understand. In the meantime however, we must stop Count Bleck if we are to have any hope in the future. If you succeed, as the Light Prognosticus foretells, then I shall do all in my power to help you find someone skilled in the Magics of the Mind.”

Mario took a deep breath and sighed.

It wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but at least it was a start and yet another thing for him to fight for against Count Bleck. He would just. Have to be patient.

“Grazie, Merlon. I appreciate it.”

“Of course. Now, tell me, were you able to find another Pure Heart during your last venture? We need eight of them if we are to save all of reality.”

Mario nodded. “I think Luigi still has it.”

Merlon’s eyes widened slightly. “In that case, let us check in with your brother then.”

Relieved that he could rejoin the others, Mario quickly led the way to where they were gathered; where, the closer he got, the more he could hear their conversation.

“...n’t seem to mind if he calls you Luigi.”

“Yeah well. He gets...mopey.”

“Yeah right. Mario doesn’t get ‘mopey’.”

“Well he did and it was pathetic and…”

“...Mr. L?”

“It doesn’t matter. If calling me...Luigi...makes him….happy, then who cares?”

Mario turned the corner just in time to catch Bowser leer at his brother. “Then can I call you ‘Luigi’ too? Since it makes Mario soooo happy?”

Luigi snorted. “You actually calling me by my name would be a first.”

Peach froze, tugging on the needle she was using to sew up the gash on Luigi’s arm hard enough to make him hiss and glare at her. “What was that for?!”

“You. You just said your name was Luigi.”

Luigi frowned. “No I didn’t. I keep telling you, it’s Mr. L.” He jerked a thumb at Bowser. “At least he gets it.”

Peach pursed her lips but before she could say anything, Mario coughed to let them know he was there as well as send a silent apology to Peach for interrupting her.

While privately, he couldn’t help think the more people who called Luigi by his actual name was a good thing, he needed his brother to be in a good enough mood to hand over the Pure Heart without throwing a fit about it first.

“Hiya bro!”

Luigi narrowed his eyes slightly. “What do you want?”

Merlon stepped forward. “I was told you held the next Pure Heart. May I see it?”

Luigi snorted and rolled his eyes. “That hunk of rock? Sure, be my guest.” Reaching into a pocket, Luigi pulled it out and practically chunked it at them, Mario just barely catching it in time.

“Luigi.”

His brother smirked. “You never said how you wanted the dumb thing. Figured I’d give it to you the fastest way how.”

Mario was about to throw his hat at Luigi’s obnoxious face when a quiet “Oh dear.” beside him gave him pause.

“Merlon? Is a something wrong?”

The old wizard sighed. “I’m afraid so. I do not feel any energy or power emitting from this Pure Heart. I fear, that if you were to put this in a Heart Pillar, it would do nothing.”

Mario felt cold.

“What are you trying to say old man? That that’s it? There’s nothing we can do?” Bowser nearly shouted.

Marlon shrugged helplessly. “Without all eight Pure Hearts, you cannot stop Count Bleck and his destruction. We have seven and yet...one of them is powerless…”

A sharp bark of laughter interrupted him and all eyes turned to Luigi.

“This isn’t funny!” Bowser growled at him. “Sure it is, you three junior heroes spent all that time running around, trying to stop us and just when you get to the finish line, you trip and fall!” Luigi shot Bowser a cruel look. “I mean in your case, at least, you should be used to this.”

Steam practically erupted from Bowser’s mouth as he glared right back at Luigi. “And what’s that supposed to mean?!”

“Exactly what it sou-” Mario slapped a hand over his brother’s mouth after darting between the two of them.

“How a bout. We just all take a couple of deep breaths. And a talk a things through.”

He took a deep breath and hoped it didn’t sound as ragged to everyone else at it did to him. “Merlon. There has to a be a something we can do.”

Peach grabbed his free hand and gave him an encouraging squeeze. “Mario’s right. We’ve come so close, lost so much already. We can’t give up.”

“I’m not saying you should give up. It’s just that we are alas, between a rock and a hard place as the saying goes.”

“A ha ha ha. What a sad group of so-called heroes we have here. One broken toy, a missing puzzle piece and they all fall to pieces.”

Mario stiffened. No.

No.

Not here. Not now. Not when he had enough on his plate without adding one more headache to the mix.

“Who’s there?” Merlon called and, almost as if those words summoned him into existence, Dimentio materialized above them, looking as if he had told the world’s funniest joke.

Glaring, Mario took his hands off of Luigi and Peach. “What do you a want?!”

Dimentio pressed a hand against his chest in mock surprise. “Me? I just want to offer my help!”

“The day you help someone is the day I throw away my tools.” Luigi muttered darkly. “What are you really doing?”

“You wound me with your words, L. I am nothing but helpful!”

“Didn’t you try to kill me?!”

Dimentio laughed. “Oh you do remember that! And here I was thinking you’d shut down past the point of no return when I shared with you the truth of your little existence!”

“Get to the point, Dimentio” Luigi snarled with enough venom that even Bowser gave him a second look.

“Fine, fine, you’ve twisted my arm. The ‘point’ I’ve come to share with you all is that there is no way in this world to restore the Pure Heart! It’s useless! Forever!”

“HOW IS THAT HELPFUL?!” Bowser roared.

Mario wasn’t sure, but it seemed like Dimentio’s smile widened.

“It’s helpful because it means you are all too disheartened to notice...this.” Dimentio raised his arms and the air rippled.

“YOU BACKSTABBING INSANE TWO FACED COGLIONE!” Luigi howled. “LET ME OUT OF THIS BOX RIGHT NOW SO I CAN RIP THAT STUPID MASK OFF YOUR FACE!”

Dimentio tapped his chin and hummed. “Tempting L, reeeal tempting but I’m afraid I have to decline your offer.”

Luigi gave another screech of rage before the sound of something hitting something solid echoed through the room.

Tentatively, Mario reached forward and found his fingers stop at an invisible wall. This. Wasn’t good.

Worriedly, he looked over at Peach who also had an arm outstretched, fingers stopping at an invisible wall as well.

Looking on the other side of him, he watched as both Luigi and Bowser attempted to break past the invisible barriers with brute force.

Reaching out a hand to try to pull Luigi back before he broke something, Mario was horrified to find another wall between him and his brother. Panicked, he tried to grab Peach’s free hand but discovered there was a barrier between them as well.

They. They were all in separate boxes.

He’d let go of them. And now he couldn’t reach them.

“Since your little quest has ended in vain, I figured I might as well give you all a consolation prize.”

“DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” Luigi roared before there was a sudden onslaught of blasts within each of the boxes that felt hotter and more intense than the last until after what felt like an eternity, there was nothing.

.

.

.

When Mario next woke up, he found himself in a grassy, almost jungle like place that was, according to the first person he’d met, the Underwhere. Which was where all souls came when they’d died.

Which meant...he’d failed.

And what was worse, not only did he fail the worlds and his friends, but that they were probably dead too.

And while he had a feeling Dimentio would have killed them anyway, he couldn’t help but wonder if the way the jester had done it was because he’d thrown a bomb at him.

And while he still couldn’t dredge up any regret for his actions (he’d gotten Luigi back. Somewhat. He could never regret that.) He did feel regret that the bomb hadn’t been enough to stop Dimentio completely or more permanently.

But.

He did what he always did. He got up and kept going.

And...maybe things weren’t as bad as that first shade made it out to be.

Queen Jaydes seemed nice; he didn’t mind looking for this Luvbi person for her.

And...and she had mentioned that someone else like him had fallen into the Underwhere. Someone in green.

It was a long shot, but there was only one person Mario knew used that color as a signifier. And and even if he still didn’t have his memory and was more prone to starting a fight than avoiding one, Mario could deal with it!

Because it would mean that Luigi was still okay! That they could work together, hopefully find the others and maybe just maybe make it back to Flipside and figure out how to stop Count Bleck with just six pure hearts; seven if they could find the last one.

It could all work out. He just had to keep hoping; stay positive and everything would turn out fi-

A familiar sounding voice groaned causing Mario to ignore everything in his surroundings and run towards it.

He caught sight of a familiar shade of green hiding behind a rock and it took everything in him to tamp down the hope that bubbled up in him at the sight. It was just the scarf he was seeing. Or. Or the hat.

Luigi would still be wearing that black jumpsuit, wouldn’t he?

The closer he got, Mario could hear his brother mumbling.

“...underlings grabbed me; I remember that. And then. And then.” A frustrated hiss escaped him. “Why can’t I remember anything else?”

“Luigi?”

Luigi looked up from behind his rock, confusion coloring his face for a second as it landed on Mario before lighting up.

“Bro? Bro!”

Before Mario could even say another word, Luigi was moving and had nearly tackled him as he gave him a bone crushing hug.

“I don’t know where we are, but I’m happy we’re together! I missed you Bro!”

Mario carefully pulled away from the hug and swept his eyes over Luigi, half-afraid that if he looked away, his brother would turn into Mr. L again, or worse, vanish into thin air.

“Mario? Are you okay?”

Mario sniffed and rubbed his eyes. “Y-Yeah. I’mma fine. I just. I missed you too.”

Luigi gave him a small smile and patted his shoulder. “Well I’mma a here now.” He looked around and frowned. “Speaking of which, where are we?”

“The Underwhere. It’s uh. The place people go when they die.”

“Huh.”

“...you. Don’t seem surprised.”

Luigi shrugged and then winced, rubbing gently at his arm. “I dunno...I guess it a makes sense? I think I’ve been here awhile...I don’t remember anything past Bowser and Peach’s wedding…” he frowned a little.

“What did I do to my arm? It feels like I pulled it or something.”

“Maybe you a landed on it wrong!”

Luigi blinked. “...Maybe.”

Mario gave him a wide smile, hoping his brother would buy the explanation and drop it. He didn’t like lying to Luigi but what was he supposed to tell him? He cut it after a fight with him because he got brainwashed to be evil?

He didn’t think his brother would take that well.

And...if Luigi didn’t remember being Mr. L, and was back to being his regular, kind-hearted self, then...what was the point of ever bringing up what he’d been up to before falling into the Underwhere?

It didn’t matter.

Not anymore.

It was all in the past and unlikely to ever come back up again in conversation with...anyone.

He’d have to talk to Peach and Bowser first, of course, but he was sure they’d agree with him.

Luigi didn’t ever have to know about Mr. L.

Mario would take that experience with him to his grave.

Smile turning more warm, Mario offered his hand to Luigi.

“C’mon. I can fill you in on what you missed as we look for someone else down here. It’ll be like you were there the whole time!”

Luigi grinned and took his hand. “Sounds like a plan, Mario. Lead the way!”

#super mario #super paper mario #my fics #mario #mr. l #luigi #in which i put mario through one heck of an emotional roller coaster #i would also like to apologize for any and all inaccuracies in this #i don't own a wii and have thus never played the actual game #sorry bout that #buckle in folks; this thing got LONG #tw: language

[dracocheesecake]

Can you write a drunk Kai fic?

Can I?! 👀

Warning: Some foul language, drunkenness, slightly suggestive innuendo

It was a nice night out: clear skies, the moonlight nothing short of inviting. The lanterns of the nearby town glowed warmly, red and yellow, beckoning the weary soldier forth to partake in what it had to offer. You just had to go out.

That was how Oogway had justified it to Kai, though really, he didn't need an excuse; for one who usually fussed so much over his rank, he never did miss an opportunity for drinks and women. Oogway barely had to say anything before Kai tossed aside the weapons he had been polishing and strolled out of the tent they shared with a small bag of money, bouncing it lightly in one hoof.

"Drinks on me," was all he said- and who was Oogway to refuse such an offer?

A few drinks in, though, he was starting to have his regrets. He counted from recent memory how many shots they had each taken from the clay jug set on their table. For himself: two. For Kai: four.

It was cheap huangjiu, and possibly even watered down. Oogway wasn't even feeling tipsy yet. Kai had had only four shots, and none too quick in succession of each other; He couldn't have gotten that drunk so quickly, not with his size, especially with their meal.

Oogway gently picked up the jug. It was still warm, and barely empty. He swished the wine around, then glanced up at Kai again. He was giggling to himself, a wide smile plastered on his face, the likes of which Oogway had never before seen from him. He chattered more than ever, too, apparently about nothing in particular- probably the heifers sitting not far from them- Oogway was too worried to notice.

He now had a problem on his hands. The longer he spent with Kai, the more apparent it became. They had leave, yes, but only for a certain time; they needed to be back to relieve their compatriots of the morning patrol before too long, and if they didn't show up at time- or showed up drunk, unable to serve- the punishment would be severe.

Oogway took the jug and subtly poured the rest of its contents into a potted plant nearby. Kai hadn't noticed- when he finally tore his eyes off the women in the bar, he just picked up the empty jug and tried to pour it into his cup. His brow furrowed in consternation. He tried a few more times, then peeked into the jug. He looked up at Oogway, with such an inappropriately woebegone expression that Oogway nearly burst into laughter.

"Where did the wine go?" He asked.

Oogway choked back his chortles. "...You drank it all, Kai," he said.

The bull blinked. "I did?"

"Yep. Every drop. Now let's head back. We've done what we came here to do, and we still have patrol. Maybe the walk will sober you up."

Kai snorted, that dopey smile returning. "I'm not drunk. Night's young. Lighten up. Besides, we haven't done everything there's to do yet."

That grin became a little more salacious, and he tossed his head towards a small group of heifers seated at a table nearby.

"What do you think?"

"I think we need to get going before the sergeant finds out we're not at our posts."

Kai glanced at Oogway, and his eyes widened. For one hopeful moment, he thought that maybe he had finally gotten through to him- a hope that was quickly dashed.

"Of course! You probably don't like heifers, huh? I don't know what you prefer."

He grinned again, then leaned over the table until Oogway could smell the faint hint of alcohol on his breath. His voice lowered into a conspiratorial whisper (or what Kai probably thought was a whisper).

"What do you like, Oogway? Anyone here catch your eye? Maybe that croc over there with the long tail, or that turtle with the nice curve to her shell, hmmm?"

He winked, and Oogway felt both abashed and annoyed at the same time. He rolled his eyes and pushed Kai so that he slumped back into his seat. The bull giggled, stomping his hooves. Oogway sighed and pinched the space between his brows. Already a headache was forming.

"We're getting you out of here," he grumbled under his breath, "with luck, by the time I drag your ass back to camp the sun will only be just beginning to rise."

He got up and grabbed Kai's arm, then somehow managed to get him out of the bar. They were standing in the street, and Oogway turned to him, about to grab him and resume the attempt to get back, but then Kai suddenly grabbed his face.

Oogway at first froze, confused. Then Kai started squeezing his face between the clefts on his hooves that acted as his forefinger and thumb.

"...I've never noticed before," he said, "but you're really squishy. What's up with that?"

He pulled on Oogway's cheeks, pinched them, squeezed them again, and continued to pull them. "Soooooooo squishy. OH!"

His eyes widened. "That's what the shell's for!" He released Oogway's face and then knocked on the shell, sending reverberations down his spine.

"PROTECT THE SQUISHY PARTS!" Kai laughed boisterously, then nearly lost his footing and stumbled back. Oogway reached for him, but Kai caught himself, leaning forward and putting his weight on Oogway. He chuckled.

"What d'ya need armor for, dumbass? You already have some!" Then he cackled again.

At this point, bending a little under Kai's weight, Oogway contemplated just whopping his ass and leaving him here, damn the consequences; but then he remembered that he was his friend, and he actually liked him too much (when he was sober) to see him face corporal punishment.

Or embarrassment. There was another band of soldiers, people they knew from their regimen, just coming down the street. If they saw Kai like this, as a drunken fool, he would never live it down. Without thinking, he shoved the yak into a runoff ditch in the side of the road and jumped in after him. It was dark out, and the lamps weren't that bright; if they laid low, they could get away without notice...

And then Kai burst into song.

Oogway would have been more shocked and impressed, if the timing weren't so terrible; Again, he wondered to himself why he bothered with him, and again had to appraise their budding friendship. Yet again (though with a little more effort of will this time), he recalled that he actually liked Kai. He wasn't a bad singer, either.

With that in mind, Oogway managed to drag Kai up the other side of the ditch before they were seen, and then they were in an alleyway, and from there out into a field. Conveniently, the moment they were alone was the time Kai stopped singing. He stumbled into a rice paddy, gasped, and started stomping, sending muddy water splashing everywhere.

"GAAAH! FUCK! WET!" He jumped up and immediately began clambering onto Oogway's shell- as best someone of his size could attempt on someone so much smaller than him. In other circumstances- if it had been someone else- Oogway would have laughed; now, though, being the one bearing the full, crushing brunt of Kai's weight, he failed to see the humor in it.

"It is WET, Oogway! SO WET!" Kai was saying.

Oogway tried to shrug the yak off, but he clambered up further and nearly sent them both tumbling. Oogway barely managed to set them back to rights. His legs were about to buckle, but he held on, groaning as Kai settled awkwardly on his shell.

"Yeah," he said, voice strained. "It's a rice field. It's supposed to be. Now get down from there! I'm not going to carry you."

Kai clung to him tighter and adjusted his balance. "I carry you all the time, do this one thing for me!"

"I'm not 700 pounds, Kai!"

"I'M 760!"

"Yeah- heavy!"

Kai snorted disdainfully, and a note of faint sobriety came through. "You're just weak! See, this is what I get, for wasting my time on a scrap of-"

Oogway chuckled and slapped the back of Kai's thigh. "There, see? You're sobering up some. Good. Maybe that means you can walk yourself." His legs were shaking under him, but he was holding out.

Kai grunted and started squirming. "DID YOU JUST SLAP MY ASS, MOTHERFUCKER? DO I LOOK LIKE A HOR-"

Kai overbalanced himself, and Oogway helped, gladly ridding himself of the burden. Kai flipped, landing on his back in the rice patty with a loud, harsh, wet slap. Now Oogway did laugh, finally- but not for long. It fell to him once more to get Kai up and onto his hooves, and the trek began again. This time Kai, perhaps humbled by the mudbath, remained blissfully silent.

By some miracle they had arrived to the outer perimeters, and by another only just managed to get in right on time to relieve their compatriot. But the night was not yet over- their superior would be over at some point, to check to see that they were both awake and at their posts; if they could just manage that, then would the ordeal finally be over.

Oh, but nothing could be that simple, could it? Snoring sounded off to his right, snoring he had begun to recognize, since he and Kai had been forced to share a tent. He turned, but Kai was standing on his feet. He couldn't have been the source of the sound; and yet, there could be no mistake.

Oogway furrowed his brow. The lamps were dim here, and spaced out far, allowing them a good swath of darkness where they were. Kai was standing, yes, but he was leaning on his heels, and his head was lolling back on his shoulders. He reached up to shake him, just to see...

"Attention!"

Oogway jumped and immediately turned to salute to their superior officer. The rhino seemed to be glaring down at them suspiciously- but then Oogway remembered that it was quite dark out, and that was just his usual expression, besides. Even still, he prayed to the gods to have mercy, and not let him pay close attention. Oogway saw him turn his head sharply towards Kai, and then he realized in a panic that Kai, being asleep still, hadn't saluted.

Oogway surreptitiously reached over and puppeted Kai's elbow, jerking his arm in a way that would hopefully pass as a salute in the dark. It worked; their superior officer let out a pleased snort and nodded towards them.

"Very good," he said, "keep this vigilance up, and the two of you will go far. At ease, soldiers."

Then he turned on his heel and left. Only then did Oogway breathe out a sigh of relief. For the rest of the watch, he let Kai doze off, and took full advantage of the luxury of silence. He watched as the world lightened into gray around them, and a thin sliver of sun began to peek over the horizon. The shadow of a fellow soldier was coming over to relieve them, and only then did Oogway venture to wake Kai.

He nudged him so he almost tipped over. "Kai, wake up."

Kai stumbled, snorting, then looked at Oogway, blinking slowly. "Hrm?"

"Come on. Let's go to bed."

Kai yawned and nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Bed...? Hrm?...Sure, sounds good." He yawned again, stumbled, and then caught himself. Oogway then realized that Kai still wasn't entirely sober.

He sighed and took his arm, the dried mud from the rice patties crumbling into his palm where it wasn't completely matted in Kai's fur- but he could worry about getting him clean later. Right now, he just wanted to sleep. He guided them both through the maze of tents until finally finding their own, and he pushed Kai inside before going in himself. After that, he didn't bother with him anymore; he flopped onto his cot and retreated into his shell, ready to forget the world in hard-earned slumber.

But then he felt Kai's weight land heavily next to him, and then one of his arms laid over his shell and pulled him in close. At first Oogway could only lay there, paralyzed by confusion- and even further when Kai started making some sort of noise. It was soft, seeming to originate from deep in either Kai's belly or chest. It would start up one moment, continue in a low growl, then fade away before starting up again; but it wasn't snoring this time.

And that night, Oogway learned four things:

Kai was a light weight.

He was a cuddler.

He could sing.

And yaks purr.

#kung fu panda #kfp 3 #the old war days #when they were young and stupid #ask #thank you for the ask! #drabble #tw: language #tw: alcohol #kai #oogway #kaiway #sorry this took so long! #tried my best but still not my best work #takes place when they were still soldiers and their friendship was just beginning to bud

[comatosebunny09]

insecurities | astarion a.

summary: “why don’t you like me?” he asks, his voice small amid the symphony of the forest dwellers. you choke on your spittle. how unlike your undead friend to sound so unsure of himself.

The night is quiet.

Most of your companions have retired to their tents. Tending to their weapons, reading, sleeping.

You’re left by the fire, snapping twigs to further kindle it. You smile quietly. The atmospheric pop and fizz bring you comfort as a summery breeze slides in.

You turn away in search of more wood when you hear a weighted sigh, followed by the thunk of the log behind you.

Seems someone’s decided to impede on your party of one.

You spin around to see your favorite vampire sitting opposite you on the log, his features accentuated by the fire. Astarion watches you with a pout on his lips and his brows knit together. You snort, wholly prepared for him to complain about something.

“What’s wrong, sunshine?” you query, squatting and poking around the campfire. “Our lodgings not to your liking? You break a nail? A rat crawl up into your ass?” Your eyes crinkle with mirth. 

Astarion leans back on his hands, one leg crossed over the other. He stares at you with those petulant eyes, studying you for a beat. It’s unlike him to be so serious. Silence stretches between you for a moment longer before he asks, “Why don’t you like me?”

You nearly choke on your spittle. His brazenness floors you. Literally. You plop down on the ground, dusting off your hands, your expression bemused. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come now.” He crosses his arms. Looks off to the side, face screwing up into a scowl. “You haven’t slept with me. You shrug off all my advances. Hells, it feels like you won’t even give me the time of day.”

Another snort. Your tone drips with sarcasm. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know I had to sleep with someone to show I cared.”

Astarion scoffs, waving a dismissive hand. “Bullshit. Have you seen me? I’m irresistible. The very definition of sex on legs, so I’ve been told. People would kill for a chance at me. And I would’ve bedded you a thousand times over, had you stopped playing hard to get.”

You sigh. Laugh a little disbelievingly, slowly standing. “Astarion—”

“I’m not your type, am I? Do you even have a type? It’s Halsin, isn’t it? That oaf of a druid.”

You caution a few steps around the fire towards him, your hands stretched out placatingly. You’re exasperated. “Astarion, look—”  

“I don’t blame you. I would’ve bedded him, too.”

“Astarion!” 

You’re in front of him now. Bent over, gathering his icy cheeks into your palms. He looks at you with confusion marring his features. You have his attention, nonetheless.  

Your eyes gloss over with wetness. A forlorn smile rounds your lips. Your chest swells with emotion, and you tuck some errant curls behind Astarion’s ear.

“I thought we knew each other better than that.” You swallow before wetting your lips. You look down at the ground, inhaling deeply. Kneel before him, taking up his hands with all the gentleness of the world, your eyes shining with the threat of tears.

“You are more than your body, Astarion. More than some fling. More than a romp in the dirt. I wish you could see that. Sex is nice. Gods, it can be such an incredible thing. But I don’t need it to know I mean something to you. And I don’t need it to show you I adore you.”

Astarion blinks. For a moment, only the two of you exist in this world of chirping crickets and crackling fire. Tenderness flashes across his face before the vampire chuckles softly, patting your hands, squeezing them. His lashes flutter. He’s breathtaking.

“You adore me, do you?” Astarion purrs, his cockiness returning tenfold. “I am rather amazing, aren’t I?” He leans back again to have a look at his nails, radiating smugness.

You snort, standing and wiping your hands on your breeches. “You just had to muck it up, didn’t you?” You can’t help the quirk of your lips as you turn back to tend to the fire.

“Darling. Who would I be if I didn’t?”

“And to think, I was just about to kiss you.”

The indignant sound Astarion releases behind you makes your ribs blossom with pride.

Ah, well. Maybe next time.

masterlist

#astarion x reader #astarion x tav #astarion x you #astarion fluff #astarion drabble #astarion bg3 #astarion fanfic #my attempt at writing something less detailed #and more dialogue-driven #astarion romance #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #astarion deserves all the love #tw: sex mention #tw: language

[captainhysunstuff]

@unofficial-deathnotetober 2023 Day 8: Minor Character

I still hate that bratty kid from L's Monster Speech clip. Linda does, too.

#it's late I'm sorry #but I had to do something #unofficial deathnotetober #2023 #minor character #drawn by me #my fancomic #Death Note #Death Note: Re:light #Wammy's House #Linda #Monster Speech Kid (Terry) #L #tw: language #slight character bashing (not that it's not deserved in my opinion lol)

[ladykissingfish]

Tobi: What’s wrong, Senpai? You seem so down …

Deidara: Just thinking, hm.

Tobi: About what?

Deidara: Wishing I had more money. I want a hand-job so bad, but my wallet just isn’t cooperating.

Tobi:

Tobi: WHAT.

Deidara: A hand-job, hm. I really want one but I just don’t have enough money to get one.

Tobi:

Tobi: I … I’d be happy to give you one for free …

Deidara: Really? You’d do that for me?

Tobi: *taking off his gloves and reaching for the lotion* Of c-course, Senpai! What are friends for?! Do … do you want to take off your pants or should I —

Deidara: … why would I take off my pants? How is that going to help you fix my hands?

Tobi: Wait, what?

Deidara: Yeah, hm; I want surgery on my hands to make them look better. Like you know how when people have cosmetic surgery on their noses, they call it a nose-job? Well, I want a hand-job, hm.

Tobi:

Tobi, in Obito voice: I truly hate you sometimes, brat.

#tobidei #tobideiweek #tobideiweek2023 #free prompt: Misunderstandings #tw: suggestive #tw: language #tobi x deidara #tobi #deidara #obito uchiha #🍭💥

[lucin-kun]

Ace tried

#Splatoon #Splatoon oc #oc #new squidbeak splatoon #agent 3 #captain 3 #agent 8 #agent 4 #agent 24 #art #drawing #video #Cap #sona: Cap #Ace #oc: Ace #Ben #oc: Ben #tw: language

[redfoxdude07]

Hot take: Transformers horror is an underutilized concept

Like, genuinely, there's so much fucked up lore in these plastic robots that they'd fit perfectly in the medium

Just the concept alone could be scary if done right, but with the simple addition of some of the more obscure parts of the lore, you'd get a really good psychological horror

Stuff like Silas and that one Ratchet and Megatron fusion would be fucking terrifying if put in the right context.

QUICK!!! SOMEONE MAKE A DIGITAL HORROR ABOUT THIS!!!!! MAKE SOME FREAKY SHIT!!!

#transformers hot takes #transformers g1 #transformers #fic ideas #transformers prime #transformers marvel comics #transformers marvel #tw: language