#I'll list a few things nevertheless

[wanderingline]

Colour wheel challenge!

Please help me procrastinate on my studies :) Send a character and a colour and I'll draw them!

[stereax]

CapFriendly Alternative Sites MegaPost

(Last update: 07/27 - added CapSized.)

As we are all likely aware by now, the Washington Capitals have decided to ruin everyone's lives by purchasing and sunsetting CapFriendly. The site has gone dark as of July 10, 2024.

While the hockey community has experienced a similar loss before, with the death of Matthew Wuest and the subsequent loss of CapGeek, this is a markedly different situation that sets a troubling precedent - namely, that freely usable, public NHL data is now available to the highest bidder, who can then revoke access to the data at a minute's notice. Two things can coexist: we can be happy for the makers of CapFriendly that they are being compensated well for their services while also scorning the Washington Capitals organization for choosing to turn off CapFriendly entirely.

Under the cut, please find a list of free CapFriendly alternatives and other websites that contain NHL data. (In some cases, they are mostly free - however, most/all important information for lay analysis is available for free.) This list is dynamic and taking suggestions, so please feel free to send me any websites you find at @stereax and check the original post for updates!

PART 1: SALARY CAP TRACKERS

PuckPedia: The New CapFriendly

PuckPedia is the closest replacement to CapFriendly currently available. It contains salary cap information for all teams and players, draft pick information, several calculators including a buyout calculator and a pick value calculator, agent information, and more. They also run PuckDoku! The biggest strike against PuckPedia is its lack of simulators (Armchair GM, mock draft, or trade simulators); however, in the wake of the CapFriendly news, PuckPedia shared that an Armchair GM simulator is under active development. 07/05 Update: PuckGM is here! You can also react to prospective PuckGMs (thumbs up, thumbs down, laugh, think emojis).

CapSized: Labor of Love

Referred to me by @nonslipdoormat and billed as a "solo female developer's project" (nonslipdoormat IS said developer!), CapSized is a site that's designed similarly to CapFriendly. It has some features other sites lack, such as trade histories going back to 2003 (with some entries as old as 1964!) and a detailed transactions page again stretching YEARS into the past. The more you poke around, the more cool things you uncover. Its primary purpose is to be a "visual database", but calculators and an NHL GM mode are on the list of future additions. I'll be dead honest, I think this is my favorite cap-checker site because of all the extra utilities. Super excited to see where this project goes!

Referred to me by @reavenedges-lies. A "baby site" that has some of the basics of salary cap info, plus a buyout calculator, qualifying offer calculator, and trade proposal maker. The trade proposal maker is prone to error and seems to only be useful for graphics. It can be a useful site for some, but it would not be my first choice.

CapWages: CapFriendly Lite

Another alternative to PuckPedia that mimics CapFriendly in design and is more intuitive for users going directly from CapFriendly to an alternative site. Like PuckPedia, it now features a GM mode, but the GM mode is in beta and is not fully functional (it only shows contracts currently existing at the NHL level). Nevertheless, for checking salary cap info, it is very good and I recommend it. Also now has a buyout calculator.

CapSpace: Young Gun

BenchWarmers: Greenhorn

Similar to CapSpace but perhaps a little better in the design department. I like how, if you don't have an account, it acts like you're Kyle Dubas and has you watching Toronto and Carolina. Has a few neat stats (like "core four" which shows how much the four most expensive players are making) that I haven't seen easily replicated on other sites, but functionality is rather limited outside of that, which is why it's also not my first choice.

Spotrac: Another Salary Cap Checker

An alternative to PuckPedia for salary cap information. However, it lacks much of the information and functionality of PuckPedia or most other sites listed here.

PART 2: ADVANCED STATS

NaturalStatTrick: The Holy Grail of Stats

NaturalStatTrick, or NatStat for short, is a site that contains just about any stat you can think of for any team or player. It has a learning curve but is generally understood to be the most reliable stat tracker available for free. You can even view stats for individual games on it!

MoneyPuck: DTWoMeter and More

You know it from the Deserve-to-Win-o-Meter or its playoff odds rings, but MoneyPuck has a lot of useful data as well if you do a little browsing. Generally, I've heard that MoneyPuck is less accurate than NatStat, but is easier to use, especially on mobile.

HockeyViz: "If I Ever Sell, I Failed"

Home of the Simple Hockey Charts, HockeyViz has a visual for just about every stat out there. You've almost certainly seen some of them before. Most of them are completely free to the public! They're super useful for visualizing stats as more than "just numbers", allowing you to see exactly WHERE things are happening on the ice.

HockeyStatCards: GameScore Kings

Again, you've probably seen HockeyStatCards's GameScore charts. Using data from NatStat (see above) and an algorithm created by Dom Luszczyszyn, it provides a simple GameScore number that tells you whether a player is having a positive or negative impact on the ice for every game in the NHL.

PART 3: SPECIALIZED SITES

NHL Armchair GM: Building Rosters

This site allows you to Armchair GM a roster. Notably, it has a steeper learning curve than CapFriendly and does not have a forum or other way to easily save and publicize your Armchair GM moves. However, it can be useful to make Armchair GMs and have visuals for them.

NHL Entry Draft: With the First Overall Pick...

This site contains a ton of draft resources, from a mock draft simulator to scouting reports. Definitely a useful site for those who are interested in the entry draft. I've seen a couple of mock draft sites, but this one seems to have by far the easiest and arguably most expansive way to use it.

NHL Injury Viz: Rulers of LTIR

Here, you can explore the relationship between the injuries of players, their cap hits, and how teams did without them. Very useful when you're arguing that a certain player going down doomed the team.

PART 4: MORE TYPES OF DATA

HockeyReference: The Good Old Days

Hockey Reference is best used for surface level data about older players. It has some trivia sections as well, for if you ever wanted to know all players wearing certain jersey numbers, sharing a certain birthday, or hailing from Alaska.

EliteProspects: Every League Imaginable

Want to know the roster of a third-tier league in Quebec? EliteProspects has you covered. Literally every league on the face of the Earth, currently existing and not, EliteProspects has info on. Any player you can possibly name, EliteProspects has their stats from atom hockey all the way to the end of their career.

HockeyDB: Another Spot for Stats

HockeyDB, referred to me by @reavenedges-lies, is another solid site for looking up basic hockey stats. Also has a ton of leagues, similar to EliteProspects. Has a hockey card feature as well that shows you cards featuring the player you've looked up, which is neat!

PART 5: FORUMS

HFBoards: Hockey Forums

Probably the most well-known hockey forum out there. If you want to talk puck on a more forum-like site, similar to CapFriendly's forums, this is the one for you.

PART 6: CAPFRIENDLY ARCHIVES

SergeiFyodorov's CapFriendly FAQ Drive

Curated by @sergeifyodorov. Originally posted here and sent to me by @fellowshipofthegay. Archives of the CapFriendly FAQs!

Got a site that's not listed here? Let me know at @stereax and I'll add it! Remember: While CapFriendly may be going away, hockey analysis is here to stay!

[silenzahra]

❤️ Without him 💚

Ahh, my beloved @megamagimugi... Did you think that I only had ONE birthday present for you? 😌🎂

Turns out that, a while back, when you posted this, I knew that someday I'd want to write something inspired by it. Then you also made this (specifically Mario's drawing) and, well, my mind got to work 🤭

And finally, after working non-stop for the last couple of weeks, I'm delighted to present you a fic entirely inspired by your amazing and astounding art 😄🎉

I really hope you'll enjoy this both as a birthday present and a Mar10 Day celebration, dear friend! A couple of warnings though: this has a few TW that I'll list in a minute, and it's LONG. I remember you telling me I should let my stories grow as much as they need so... I did 🤭 So please make sure to take all the time you need and, maybe, grab a drink or a snack. Enjoy! 💖

I hope it's okay that I tag some friends who might be interested, but of course it's totally fine if you'd rather skip this one for whatever reason 💖 @vulpixfairy1985 @smokszyvverstar @bberetd (only if you want to, my dear bestie 🫂💖) @pepperycar @stripetkattelalala54-gf (at your own time of course 💖) @itsavee4117 @dragon-fly34 @roscolate @doodleydoo101

Without further ado, get ready for some brotherly angst... and love ❤️💚

TW: Blood, injuries, mourning, character death

✨ AO3 LINK ✨

Click to keep reading down below 👇🏻💖

❤️ Without him 💚

It’s still dark when Luigi emerges from the mansion.

Or perhaps sunlight never reaches this cursed area.

Luigi doesn't care. He doesn't care about anything anymore.

Trying not to drop anything he’s carrying in his arms, he just walks towards the outside of the building.

His heart feels heavy on his chest.

It’s all been a lie.

King Boo has been making fun of him from the start.

Mario is dead.

Luigi is unable to utter these words when he meets Professor E. Gadd in his laboratory to return the Poltergust 3000. Even so, the fact that he’s returned alone, as well as his somewhat robotic attitude and his reluctance to speak, are enough for the scientist to understand what’s happened without Luigi having to openly say it. Still, he decides not to stay to listen to whatever the old man was planning to say in order to try to console him. What for?

He just wants to mourn his beloved brother in peace.

He doesn't even mind where. He just knows that he wants to be alone, to leave this horrible place behind, to go away and never look back.

With narrowed eyes and his mouth a thin line, Luigi heads out of the laboratory. He doesn't bother to turn around to give one last glance at the iron door he crossed just a few seconds before, behind which now there’s only an empty lot whose atmosphere, however, is still disturbing. Luigi simply walks away from it with his arms full, his face impassive, his body numb, unable to sense the discomfort of the few scratches and blows he’s received while battling the ghosts, nor the tiredness that’s gradually taken hold of him as the night progressed.

Nevertheless, his throat...

Luigi doesn’t know when it appeared, but he feels a lump in his throat that just keeps growing. Knowing that he won’t be able to contain it for much longer, the plumber decides to sit on the gnarled root of a tree and slowly arranges the objects he was carrying in his arms around him.

One by one, he observes all of Mario's belongings that he’s collected during the night and which, unbeknownst to him at the time, would end up being the last things he’d have left of his twin. They were what he held on to in search of a glimmer of hope as he wandered through the mansion alone, thinking only of the moment when he’d finally find his sibling and, after making sure he was fine and safe, he could give him back everything he’d lost. A shoe, an ordinary one, just like the ones he wears. A glove, also like his, but a bit wider and a little wet. A star, which he himself insisted that Mario take with him when he went to explore the house on his own, so that he could protect himself if necessary, but which he didn’t have time to use before...

The twinge in his chest is so intense that Luigi is forced to squeeze his eyelids and lips with all his might. No matter how hard he tries to avoid it, his treacherous mind shows him the images of what must have happened: Mario, arriving alone at the manor, ready to inspect it and make sure it wasn't a trap, is suddenly attacked by a horde of Boos. They’re so numerous that his poor brother barely has time to notice their presence before several of them seize his arms and legs to prevent him from trying to defend himself. The star rests in his back pocket, longing to be utilized and turn its owner invincible.

But the Boos are stronger when they are united.

Mario didn't stand a chance.

The first tears begin to escape from the corners of Luigi's eyes and slide down his cheeks. The plumber doesn’t hold back the accompanying sob, which is followed by several more as his heart slowly bleeds. His shoulders shake and he brings a hand to his face while, with the other, he presses the last two objects he has left of his older sibling against his chest with all his might.

The hat. Luigi was surprised to find it in the washing machine, as at home he’s in the habit of washing both his clothes and Mario's by hand, but he simply took it to Madame Clairvoya as soon as he had the opportunity so that she could reveal something about the whereabouts of his twin. Now, Luigi not only understands that everything the ghost told him was a lie, but he also feels sad that the cap is so clean. It retains none of his brother's warmth, not even a single strand of hair, which was a shade of brown slightly lighter than his own.

Luigi is grateful to keep the garment, but, for him, it’s as if it never belonged to Mario.

And then there's the letter. Literally the last words his twin wrote to him. Coming from Mario, it could only be yet another attempt to protect him: “Look out for Boos, Luigi!” How did he manage to write it if the specters ambushed him? Why didn't he think of using the star to defend himself first? Maybe that way he could have escaped...

But no. Mario's priority was always to protect Luigi. Always.

Until the last second of his life.

Salty rivers flow from Luigi's eyes without any control. His body shakes in harsh convulsions while, deep inside, his shattered heart cries, tearing his soul apart. His soul, which will never be whole again, which has been broken forever. Mario... What will Luigi do now without him? How will he be able to go on without his sibling by his side? They’ve been together since they were born, they’ve never spent more than a few hours apart, they’ve always had each other's backs.

Especially Mario.

Never in his life had Luigi felt so useless.

What has he ever done for Mario? He never defended him, not in the same way that his brother defended him. He never got involved in a fight to protect him. He never had the courage to stand up to those who made fun of him, or rather, to them, because they always went for Luigi first and, as soon as Mario got involved, they turned to him.

But Luigi, despite the rage that welled up inside him and mingled with his fear, was never able to intervene.

And now he’ll never have the chance to try.

Heartbroken, he once again berates himself for all the mistakes he’s made that have led to this situation. First of all, how could he have been so stupid as to believe he had won a huge mansion in the middle of nowhere when he hadn't even entered a contest? Of course it was a trap! And of course Mario, much more battle-hardened than him, sensed it from the start.

And of course he’d do everything in his power to protect his younger twin.

Luigi sniffs, his face soaking, but he doesn't bother to wipe it. He doesn't want to let go of his brother's hat or letter. He wants them to remain close to his heart, as a way of keeping Mario's memory alive.

And also, perhaps, to lessen the guilt.

Because the biggest mistake Luigi made was to allow his sibling to go to the house alone.

Because of him, Mario fell right into the trap set for him by the Boos.

Because of him, Mario had no chance to defend himself.

Because of him, Mario is dead.

And Luigi will never be able to forgive himself for it.

Perhaps, if he had insisted more, his twin would’ve been happy for them to go together. Perhaps, if he had been with him, Luigi could’ve tried to protect him in some way. Perhaps he could’ve freed him from the clutches of the Boos. Perhaps he could’ve thrown him out of the building, away from the reach of the phantoms. Perhaps he could’ve saved him even at the cost of his own life.

Luigi would gladly give up his last breath if it meant bringing Mario back.

But who is he trying to fool? If he wasn’t able to face human aggressors in the past, how could he possibly muster the courage to do so with the Boos? Particularly considering how much he fears ghosts... Besides, he's not as strong as Mario. In fact, he’s quite the opposite: weak and faint-hearted. What could he have done against a legion of specters? He didn't even have the Poltergust 3000 when he arrived at the mansion.

Not that it helped him much.

Yes, in the end he captured the Boos, but one by one. Yes, he also defeated Boolossus, but, again, he did it by splitting him up with those ice statues so he could catch each spirit separately. And, yes, he beat King Boo. Despite the grief and pain that surged from the depths of his soul as soon as he heard the terrible truth, for once, anger took over and Luigi was finally able to trap his enemy.

And for what? For nothing. It was all in vain.

Mario was dead all along.

---------------------------------------------------

Mario wasn't expecting the ambush.

The Boos caught him completely off guard. They appeared from everywhere, illuminating the hall of the manor with their glimmering shine and pouncing on him before he even had time to understand what was happening. Despite his good reflexes, which helped him dodge the first Boos, Mario was being overpowered.

He fought tooth and nail. He punched and kicked as he ran and jumped, trying to reach the main door of the house, from which he had made the mistake of moving away. He only had to go down the stairs, maybe he could even buy some time if he tried to hang from the central lamp. Not having much time to decide, the plumber put his idea into action.

Two Boos intercepted him in mid-leap and Mario suddenly found himself floating upside down, held only by the leg of his overalls. The shrill cackles of the specters echoed around him. What the hell was going on? Why didn't those Boos turn around as soon as he looked at them, as happened in the haunted mansions he explored in some of his previous adventures?

Where had these ghosts come from?

“Let go!” he yelled, enraged.

He shook himself violently and even tried to reach the beings with his hands, trying to bend his body as far as possible, but the Boos would not allow it. Unexpectedly, they swung him before launching him into the air, which drew a shriek of terror from him as he feared fracturing something as soon as he hit the floor.

But then other Boos caught him, this time holding his arms sternly to prevent him from twisting. Mario, of course, put up a fight, eager to break free just so he could escape from there and hurry to warn Luigi. His brother was on his way to the manor. He had to stop him from setting foot in this ghost-infested place!

However, as soon as he realized how the remaining Boos were gathering in front of him like a swarm of bees, Mario stopped resisting, confused by the spirits’ attitude. Silently, he watched as these tiny and not at all scary Boos merged to form a single, enormous, round one, with a mocking expression that it fixed on him right away. Mario gasped, startled, unable to comprehend what his eyes were witnessing, and he couldn't contain the chill that ran through him when the newly formed specter’s glance flashed with pure malice, blazing like lightning.

The first blow, and the most lacerating, was to the eye. It was so fast, so sudden, that he didn't even have time to close it. Pain shot through his head as if a knife had been viciously plunged into his skull, and he was unable to contain the scream that escaped his throat. Instantly, the laughter of the Boos who were still grasping him flooded his ears, together with the guttural guffaw emitted by the enormous being that had just hit him. Mario barely had a moment to catch his breath before it attacked him again, this time in the stomach. When the Boos released him without warning, the plumber couldn't even shout as he plunged to the ground.

He fell on the stair landing with a dull thud, his nose hitting just above a step, so that the skin over his upper lip took the blow. He could barely utter a soft groan even though his whole frame felt the impact, but there was no air left in his lungs. He soon felt blood running down from under his moustache to his mouth. He was unable to try to raise his arm to wipe it away.

But the Boos were not done with him.

Mario felt a cold, ghostly hand grab his shoulder and force him to turn around without any care, so that his damaged body was left shoddily leaning against the wall of the hallway. Mario inhaled, trying to shake away drowsiness, and managed to focus his gaze just in time.

The huge Boo was hurtling towards him at full speed.

With a cry, Mario forced himself to cling to the steps beside him and held on to them to pull his frame. He tried to move his knees too and clambered awkwardly on all fours to dodge the attack, unable to stand up.

Although he managed to avoid the blow, as he struggled to get up, he felt the same spectral hand grab his ankle. Mario screamed and clung with all his might to the railing at the top. He shook and swung his foot up and down, without stopping for a second, angry and fed up at the same time, until he finally felt the extremity slip down his foot. It was taking off his shoe, but he didn't mind. He had to escape.

Finally, with one last jolt, Mario managed to free himself and hastily got to his feet. With one bare foot, his white and green striped sock being the only thing protecting him from the cold floor, he ran towards the double door in front of him, opened it in a hurry and went through, then rushed to close it behind him. He wasn't sure that a door would be an effective barrier against spirits, but he had to try.

He had to warn Luigi.

Breathless, his heart racing, Mario fell backwards against the door he had just gone through and began to rummage through his pockets. In his left pocket he found his pen and in his right pocket he found his notebook, which he always carried with him in case they received an unexpected call and he had to write down the details of a client who required the plumbing services that he and Luigi offered.

Never in his life had he appreciated having them so much as then.

With his hands trembling and blood starting to drip down his chin, Mario began to turn the pages. His eye still hurt a lot and he was sure that the damned being had caused him some serious damage, but he forced himself to try to open it to see something in that half-dark room. In the middle of his race, he hadn't even stopped to examine it, and he barely raised his head at that moment, just enough to make out a couple of candles whose faint light provided too dim an illumination for his injured eye.

But it would have to be enough. He had to warn Luigi.

If he was going to die there, if those Boos weren't going to let him reach the exit, he would at least try to leave a note for his twin as close as possible to the entrance door.

The handwriting came out crooked and somewhat shaky due to his state of nerves, but he didn't let that stop him. As soon as he had written his warning, he tore the page out of the notebook and pressed it against his chest. He needed a plan. He needed to reach the exit, either to escape or at least to be able to leave the note somewhere where Luigi, hopefully, would see it.

Hopefully, he thought, his little brother would have thought twice and would not go to the mansion.

Mario couldn't even imagine the fear Luigi would feel upon encountering such a dark, gloomy place, and, to top it all, one plagued by ghosts. He himself felt terrified, as he would’ve never expected the Boos to be so violent.

He desperately wanted to get out of there. He wanted to leave and not look back. He wanted to find Luigi before he set foot in that damn house and return home together.

He didn't want to spend another second without him.

Determined, Mario got back on his feet. He was still clutching the note to his chest when he put his ear to the double door, trying to hear something. He chose to ignore his surroundings completely, as he had no interest in discovering anything more about that house. He was resolved to leave, whatever the cost, or at the very least, to make sure that Luigi was kept safe, even at the cost of his own life.

Neglecting what was around him was the biggest mistake he made.

Once again, he didn't see the blow coming. He only felt something hard and heavy fall on his head, so violent and savage that the searing pain caused him to lose his sight in a matter of seconds. Before his body hit the carpeted floor of the building, Mario had already lost consciousness.

---------------------------------------------------

Luigi wonders if he’ll ever run out of tears. If his heart will ever stop aching as if a claw were squeezing it with all its might.

If he’ll ever learn to live without Mario. If he’ll ever stop mourning his absence.

If he’ll ever be able to forgive himself.

He knows with absolute certainty that the answer to all these questions is no.

His throat hurts like hell because of the loud, choking sobs that come out of it, which have been increasing, hand in hand with the anguish that floods his soul and has spread throughout his entire anatomy. The crying tears him apart inside and threatens to break his sternum in two halves. He doesn't care. It seems like little punishment to him. It’s too small a price to pay for being the main person responsible for the murder of his sibling.

“Oh, Mario...” he murmurs, his weeping unstoppable.

The loneliness was already weighing on him in the mansion, having to face all those ghosts on his own, but he did it for Mario and would do it again if it meant bringing him back.

But spending the rest of his days alone knowing that it’s his fault that his brother is no longer there...

What will he do now without him?

His anguish prevents him from hearing the creaking of the door to the professor's laboratory. The hurried footsteps on the ground, some of them somewhat muffled. Not even the approaching rapid gasps. The pain has plunged him into a dark and impenetrable world in which there’s no room for anything other than guilt and sadness, suffering and hopelessness.

However, there is something that does manage to make its way into the darkness of his mind.

The only thing that could.

“Lu?”

With a start, Luigi falls silent as he opens his eyes. He holds his breath as he makes out a figure in front of him, a silhouette trimmed against the gloom of the forest. He has to blink several times, though, until his vision, clouded and blurred, clears up enough, and then, silently, he looks up slightly and observes what is before him.

But he cannot believe what he sees.

No. His eyes are deceiving him, as are his ears.

It's not real. It can't be real.

Luigi shrinks. He’s undoubtedly in the presence of a spirit. A spirit that has somehow escaped from the mansion that has become its tomb and, full of a wholly justified thirst for revenge, is ready to torment him until the end of his days.

A spirit that, nevertheless, seems very solid and... is it panting?

Luigi swallows, unable to believe it. He notices the tear in the specter’s red shirt, more or less at the height of the elbow of his left arm, where a bloody wound stands out. He notices the naked hand at the end of it, also covered in blood. He notices the dirt on his overalls. He notices his green and white striped sock, visible because his right shoe is missing, stained with dirt, earth and a few drops of blood.

Slowly, Luigi lets out an exhalation as he raises his head with wide open eyes. He then sees that the supposed ghost, his hair tangled and messy, is smiling at him. A somewhat strange smile, because he has a black eye, a bruise on his cheek and blood. Blood that rises from his forehead and rushes towards his damaged eye, and blood that spurts out from just below his mustache and drips down his chin.

But it's still a smile, after all.

Then, the spirit of his brother, puffing less and less, holds out a hand to him.

“Lu,” he says again.

His voice doesn’t sound guttural or shrill, as one might expect from a specter. On the contrary. Luigi believes that he could touch the warmth and affection that oozes from the tone of Mario's ghost.

Mario's ghost.

His heart skips a beat.

He really is seeing Mario in front of him. His twin really is grinning at him. He really has held out an arm, and Luigi suddenly discerns just how close his fingers are to his face.  Ignoring the dirt on the only glove Mario is wearing, all Luigi manages to do is keep the letter in one hand while, with the other, he places Mario’s lost hat on his sibling’s palm.

The giggle he emits as he grabs the cap also sounds very real. As authentic as that of the real Mario.

Like when he was alive.

As he watches the being lay the hat on his tousled curls, Luigi tells himself that, given that Mario was murdered when he was missing all these objects and, no doubt, put up a fight against the Boos, it makes sense that his spirit would manifest itself in this way: gloveless, hatless, shoeless, and looking like he's been beaten up.

His heart shrinks even further in his chest. How unfair that this was how Mario’s life ended. How angry he feels that he wasn’t able to do something to help him.

How ashamed he feels for not having been at his side so that, at least, Mario wouldn’t have had to go through that hell without him.

He’s the worst younger brother in existence.

He barely perceives the new tear staining his right cheek. He simply blinks as the specter, after adjusting his hat, turns his attention back to him. Luigi barely has time to behold him for a moment, his soul shrieking with hope at the sight of his twin, hat and all, being again in front of him, when, once again, his sibling, or what’s left of him, holds out his hand to him. Without hesitation.

This time, Luigi doesn't know whether he should give him the letter, or maybe the star, or perhaps the glove. So, undecided, he stares for a few seconds at Mario's outstretched limb before, uncertain, looking up at his face. His brother, despite the blood, despite the bruises, gives him a broad and sincere smile, the affection he has for him shining in his only open eye. As blue as the midday sky and as bright as when he was...

Alive.

-------------------------------------------------------

Even though he couldn’t know it then, Mario was about to face a long and agonizing captivity.

He remembered, even before opening his only healthy eye, the pain hammering at his skull and causing him excruciating dizziness. He remembered noting the blood sliding down his forehead. He remembered noticing the lack of his hat and the glove on his left hand when, in a futile attempt to mitigate his suffering, he massaged his temples.

He remembered the vision of an empty and lonely world, where fire danced in the dark sky and, all around him, there was only an endless stone pavement, with no trace of buildings, trees or any other living thing. He remembered the feeling of being lost and alone, the hopelessness of realizing that no matter how far he went, he never got anywhere, the fear of never being able to find a way out. He remembered the stale, almost unbreathable air and the dim light, to which his good eye soon became accustomed. He remembered the physical pain of all his wounds, his body complaining with every step he took, but above all, he remembered the panic that took hold of his soul.

The dread of never seeing his sibling again, of having to spend the rest of his days in that strange and horrendous place without him, overcame everything else.

Mario simply walked, unwilling to give up, ignoring his bare foot. He had to get out of there, he had to go back to Luigi, he had to stop the Boos from doing the same damage to his twin as they had done to him. He deeply regretted not having found a way to get the message to Luigi before the damn ghosts attacked him. Because of them, not only had he been unable to warn his brother, but now he was also bleeding from his head. He didn't care, although this time he did try to wipe the blood from his forehead with his sleeve, and also from his chin.

When Bowser fell on his back with a tremendous noise that destabilized him, it took him by surprise just like the Boos attack.

What the hell was the Koopa King doing there? Was he in cahoots with the specters? Mario didn't have much time to think about it, as Bowser immediately attacked him with his fire. He felt tremendously stupid when he recalled, in his eagerness to find a way to beat him, that Luigi, always so cautious, had insisted that he at least take a power-up with him before leaving home in case he needed to defend himself. How right his younger sibling always was and how grateful Mario was to have him. Maybe he could have used it against the Boos, he thought, berating himself, but he’d been so worried about escaping and warning Luigi that it hadn't even crossed his mind that he had a power-up that would give him the advantage.

Until, rummaging in his back pocket, he found it empty.

Those damn Boos!

His hat, his glove, his shoe, the letter he wrote to warn Luigi, and now his star too? Mario grumbled under his breath, feeling very guilty and useless for letting himself be knocked out so easily. He should have resisted more. The damn spirits had taken advantage of his incompetence and had made sure to leave him as helpless and defenseless as possible.

Equally frustrated and scared, Mario realized that he was going to have to face his archenemy the old-fashioned way. He was aware that he wasn’t in the best condition for a battle, but he wouldn’t let that stop him. Without a second thought, he began to run around Bowser to throw him off, but to his surprise, King Koopa, cackling, started to turn on the spot and didn’t take his eyes off him for an instant. Damn it, the plumber thought, annoyed. It seemed that his old tricks would no longer work...

Suddenly Bowser's head detached from the rest of his body.

Mario shrieked and fell backwards, horrified. He watched, with his good eye wide open, as the head floated on its own while the lower part stayed behind, and in the midst of his terror he was perplexed to discern that there was no blood anywhere.

What on earth was going on? What kind of twisted nightmare was this?

He got his answer when, from inside Bowser's neck, a Boo emerged, bigger and chubbier than the one that had attacked him in the mansion hall. It wore a crown with a brilliant ruby on its head, which sparkled as it reflected the glow of the burning sky. Its crooked smile revealed pointed fangs and a blue tongue, and its eyes, red and gleaming, fixed on Mario with a flash of hatred that made him swallow.

“Welcome to your new home, Mario!” the specter bellowed in a shrill voice. “You'd better get used to it, because you're never going to leave here!”

“W-what?” Mario muttered as he struggled to stand up and conceal his fear.

“You’re finally going to pay for what you've done!” the being continued, as if he hadn't heard him. “I've been planning this revenge with my Boos for a long time... Do you remember them? They're the ones you've been scaring and frightening non-stop, and that's a ghost's job! Do you hear me, you two-bit trashy plumber? Not some short, stumpy idiot’s like you!”

“Hey!” protested Mario. “Who are you calling stumpy?”

“The one I'm about to finish off!”

Unable to help himself, Mario shrank back as the supposed King Boo pointed one of his spectral arms at him. Overwhelmed, he looked around, but he knew he wouldn't find anything there, no weapon with which to defend himself, nor food or water to regain his strength.

He was doomed.

He knew he’d be ashamed for the rest of his life of what he was about to do, but at that moment he couldn’t think of any other option. So he was forced to summon up his last reserves of energy and choose the only alternative he would have liked never to have to carry out: he turned around and ran.

He immediately felt like a coward. He wasn't the type to run away, but rather to stand up to the situation. However, he quickly remembered that, sometimes, his younger brother also escaped from dangerous situations to buy time, come up with a plan and then, at last, face the threat.

The problem was that Mario had nowhere to take shelter. Behind him he could hear the heavy footsteps of the fake Bowser, whose body he imagined King Boo had just mended. Oh, if only Luigi were there with him... Mario’s sure it wouldn't take him long to come up with a strategy for them both to emerge victorious.

Even so, for nothing in the world would Mario have wanted to see his twin there. It would be definitive proof that they’d both lost, that they’d both been victims of that excessive desire for revenge that King Boo harbored against them. Or against him, rather, despite the fact that, in the past, Mario used to just turn his back on the Boos and walk away from them. He couldn't understand why King Boo felt such enormous aversion towards him just for that.

But, in any case, Luigi was not to blame for anything. Mario wanted to see him, of course, but not there, not in that empty, stinking place. The longing to see him again, to hold him in his arms once more, to feel his warmth and affection enveloping him, flooded him all at once, intense and fierce like the waves in the middle of a storm, but he cared more about his safety. He cared more that Luigi never came to that house, that he didn't fall into the Boos' ambush, that he wasn't caught in that horrendous world like he was.

Mario didn't know how, but he would find a way to return to his sibling whatever the cost. He was going to survive, if only to annoy that damned Boo. He was going to resist, for he was determined to embrace Luigi once again with all his might.

He was fed up with that nightmare, but he was even more fed up with every second that passed without him.

Then, overcome by tiredness and thirst, Mario stumbled.

As his already aching body hit the hard stone floor, Mario realized that he wouldn’t have a chance to fulfill his desires. He wouldn’t have a chance to return to Luigi. He wouldn’t have a chance to escape from there. He knew he was defeated, for pain and exhaustion had taken hold of his flesh and bones, and the darkness was eager to take him with it. He didn't want to give up, he didn't want to give in, but there was nothing he could do.

It appeared that, at last, his enemies had managed to beat him.

Bowser's footsteps stopped behind him. Mario waited, gasping for breath. He expected, perhaps, to have a paw stepping on his back or a claw lifting him up by force. He was even ready for the fire to devour him in no time, leaving nothing but ashes.

Nevertheless, what he felt was a slight brush against his shoulder, so cold and subtle that it sent a shiver down his spine.

“By the way...” King Boo's voice sounded like a terrifying whisper next to his ear. “It seems that someone has come to the mansion looking for you...”

Mario jumped and opened his eye with a start.

“Luigi?” he muttered, panting.

No! No, no, no, that was the last thing he needed to hear...

“But don't worry,” the being continued, reveling in his alarmed reaction, “my Boos will take good care of him, Mario. You’ll soon be reunited!”

He concluded with a shrill laugh that pierced his skull, but he didn't even mind.

Luigi. Luigi had ended up going there to search for him. Luigi was going to fall into the Boos' trap.

And Mario could do nothing to prevent it.

At that very moment, his heart ached much more than any of his many physical wounds. Mario hung his head, dejected, trying to find the strength to get to his feet, to look for a way out, to try to find a way to help Luigi. He had to do something.

Tears of impotence suddenly flooded his eyes and slid down his cheeks, mixing with blood. Mario cried in silence for a few seconds, feeling useless and very guilty about what his poor brother was about to suffer. If only his body didn't hurt so much, if only he could have been stronger to stop the Boos, if only he could have remembered the damn star...

He was grateful to have been left alone. At least no one would see him crying. At least no one would hear his low sobs or witness how tremendously pathetic he really was. What a hero. The shame of the Mushroom Kingdom. The most pathetic loser anyone had ever heard of. The disgrace of his family. The furthest thing imaginable from a role model.

He woke up when Bowser fell back, with all his weight, right next to him.

Mario wasn't even aware that he had fallen asleep, but, although he was still sensing the pain of all his lesions, he forced himself to shake the drowsiness off and stand up. Before he could fully stabilize himself, however, King Koopa turned on himself, with his back to him. The plumber began to back away, confused...

And then Bowser turned around at full speed and his tail struck Mario's left arm with unusual violence.

All Mario could do was scream as he was hurtled away, his skin burning from the blow.

He shouted again as he landed on that same arm, his hand and cheek scraping against the stone floor. He was barely able to utter a low groan. He didn’t even know which part of his anatomy hurt the most, which injury bled the most, if he would ever open his damaged eye again.

Bowser's footsteps echoed behind him, drawing nearer. His roars sounded more furious than before. Mario watched him approach with his eyelid half closed, still confused and disoriented. Everything was happening too fast and he, unable to forget the words that King Boo whispered to him before he lost consciousness, still felt guilt weighing on his chest at the thought that Luigi...

Mario’s eye fluttered open as he understood that Bowser's anger, which was actually King Boo's, had a reason.

Luigi.

Of course! His younger sibling was smart, brave and fast. He knew how to make the best plans and always had the best ideas. If there was anyone capable of standing up to the Boos, if there was anyone capable of finding a way to defeat their king, it was Luigi.

His incredible, agile and intelligent twin brother.

Mario felt terrible for having given in to despair. After all, hadn't he himself thought that Luigi would undoubtedly know how to face King Boo? How could he have allowed hopelessness and discouragement to take over his soul? Luigi could handle anything.

And Mario had to hold on, survive, resist. For Luigi.

He had no time to wallow in his pain.

Mario got up.

He resumed the race. He ignored the bellowing of the fake Bowser, which often mingled with the shrill shrieks of King Boo himself. He ignored the screams of his own body, begging him to stop and rest. He ignored the pleas of his poor throat, desperate for a simple drop of water. He even ignored the roars of his empty stomach, longing for a small morsel to fill itself up with. He ignored the weeping of his heart at the prolonged separation from his beloved sibling.

He ignored everything. He concentrated on running. And when he could no longer hear his enemy behind him, he dared to take a quick look over his shoulder before giving in and letting himself fall.

He didn't know if King Boo would return. He had to make the most of the time he had alone to give his battered frame a break, but he couldn't let his guard down. This time he wouldn't sleep. He’d stay alert. Watchful.

He was going to survive. King Boo was undoubtedly enjoying torturing him with every minute that passed, but Mario was planning to get his own back.

He would survive, escape and give him what he deserved.

And then he’d rejoin Luigi and never spend another second of his life without him again.

---------------------------------------------------------

Luigi can’t help but observe the ghost of his brother, unsure of how to react to his outstretched hand and apparent kindness. Should he trust him? Surely it's not... another trap?

“Luigi,” Mario says in a low whisper, “it's-a me!”

His words are interspersed with a soft chuckle that sounds like it wants to burst out, but which Mario tries to contain. Luigi catches sight of how his lips move when he speaks, how his chest rises and falls, how solid the limb he’s extended seems. He can’t help but notice, once again, how real his voice sounds when it reaches his ears.

Doubts and disbelief battle against hope inside him when, biting his lower lip, Luigi dares to raise his arm. He’s convinced that this is a huge mistake, that he’ll only find air, that he’s imagining things and his mind is deceiving him and it’s all in vain...

His breath escapes him the moment his fingertips find the palm of Mario's hand.

Solid. Firm. Real.

Just like the way Mario hastens to close his fingers around his own in a protective gesture.

Always protecting him, always looking after him, always watching over him.

Luigi gasps, staring fixedly at their clasped hands. He squeezes them, trying to convince himself that his older twin is really standing in front of him, and not a specter or a projection from the afterlife come to torment him.

And Mario squeezes back.

Luigi lets out a sound halfway between laughter and surprise. Fascinated, he looks up and finds a radiant grin from ear to ear on the bruised face of his sibling, his blue eye flashing, not losing detail of his reactions. Holding his breath, Luigi dares to put the letter he still had in his other hand on the root of the tree and slowly lifts his arm up.

His trembling palm finds Mario's chest and rests on it, unsure. His brother then places his own fingers on top of his and presses them gently, inviting him to keep them there for as long as necessary. It feels warm and real...

... As does Mario's pulse, steady and calm, which Luigi soon begins to perceive.

He inhales, on the verge of laughing or sobbing, he doesn't know, and clutches the fabric of the overalls of his twin, who lets out a low giggle. Luigi observes him again, biting his lower lip so as not to let out whatever is bubbling in his throat, and, without haste, starts to lift his arm, dragging Mario's along with it, as he doesn’t seem willing to let go of him.

When his palm meets Mario's cheek, he’s enveloped by the familiar warmth emanating from his skin through his glove.

His sibling tilts his head slightly towards his hand, closing his eye to enjoy the contact, and he exerts a slight pressure on Luigi’s extremity to better feel his caress.

Luigi is unable to discern the tangle of emotions that are swirling within right now, threatening to make his heart burst. Tears well up again, but this time they’re accompanied by a smile that gradually takes shape on his face as his mind finally takes in what’s happening.

Snickering gradually forms in his stomach and rises up through his sternum. Luigi, without letting go of Mario's hand or taking his palm away from his cheek, jumps to his feet as he releases the guffaw, sonorous and vibrant, which is promptly followed by that of his brother, just as powerful. He doesn't understand how, he doesn't understand what has happened, but it doesn't matter to him at all at the moment.

All he cares about is that Mario, the real one, the authentic one, is standing in front of him, gripping his hand securely, his laughter an echo of his own. All he cares about is that he can stroke Mario’s cheek, sense the warmth of Mario’s skin, feel Mario’s fingers lovingly covering his. All he cares about is that his twin, determined to return the gesture, ends up bringing his hand to Luigi’s cheek to wipe away his crying with his thumb, his face, real and smiling and alive, full of tenderness.

All he cares about is that he can finally hug him again.

“Mario,” he whispers, his tone still tinged with disbelief.

He closes his eyes and tilts his head, his body this time shaken by the chuckles he can’t stifle. He soon feels Mario’s forehead meet his, which brings forth a sob that wells up from the depths of his being. His sibling’s touch, as always, is comforting, reassuring, a balm for his poor shattered soul which, at last, begins to recover.

“Lulu,” replies Mario in the same tone, his palm still resting on his cheek.

With a new sob, Luigi slides his hand from Mario's cheek to the back of his neck to draw him towards him, and, after releasing his limb, he wraps his other arm around his beloved older brother and holds him close. He hugs him tighter than he can remember ever having done before, running his fingers through Mario’s tousled hair and crying into his shoulder. His broken heart slowly initiates the road towards healing thanks to the presence of his twin, who, without hesitating for a second, has in turn wrapped him in his arms and embraces him with the same intensity, his hand gently stroking his back in an attempt to convey some peace and tranquility.

Even so, as always, Mario doesn't pressure him. Silently, his sibling cradles him in his arms, the warmest blanket in the middle of winter, while Luigi gives free rein to the dizzying roller coaster of emotions he’s experienced in the last few hours. The uncertainty about Mario's whereabouts, the concern that something bad had happened to him, the horror of seeing his fear confirmed when King Boo told him that his Boos had killed Mario as soon as he set foot in the mansion, the grief, the guilt, the pain, the loneliness...

Finally, little by little, Luigi frees himself from it all. With each tear, with each sob, with each instant that passes clinging to his brother, his soul begins to heal and his heart starts to be restored, its pieces coming back together in his chest now that his other half is by his side again. The simple fact of having Mario next to him, of feeling his sturdiness in his arms and his breathing in his ear, is a strengthening relief for Luigi that is born in the depths of his being and gradually spreads to every corner of his anatomy, taking away all that’s negative and leaving room only for the immense joy of having his twin back and the placidity and peace that his bear hugs always give him.

Only Mario, with his gentleness and affection, his strong arms and delicate caresses, is capable of calming the storm that had been unleashed inside Luigi and that threatened to drag him into utter despair.

“Sono io,” Mario whispers then, his velvet tone filled with the cadence of a lullaby. “Sono qui, fratellino. Sono davvero qui e non vado da nessuna parte. Mai.”

Luigi's next sob turns into a giggle. Yes, Mario really is there with him, he really is holding him, he really is speaking to him in their native language to assure him that he’ll never leave his side again. His arms clench around his sibling, and he needs to catch his breath a couple of times before he’s able to reply.

“Ti voglio tanto bene, Mario,” he stammers, his voice strangled.

His brother pats him sweetly on the back, hugging him just as vigorously.

“Anch'io, Lulu,” he replies, and his soft, melodic tone fills him with calmness and serenity. “Anch'io ti voglio tantissimo...”

Clutching Mario's neck, Luigi laughs and cries at the same time. His words, spoken with such love that they make his soul tremble, provide him with all the warmth and comfort he had been longing to receive all night, since he set out on his unsuccessful search alone in the middle of the darkness. It still almost seems too good to be true that his twin is truly here, next to him, wrapping him in his protective arms like a shield that keeps him safe from all the evils of the outside world.

Mario is here, Mario is talking to him, Mario is embracing him, and Luigi can only cry with pure happiness.

Finally, with the last tear, Luigi manages to banish all traces of doubt and sadness left inside him. These are soon replaced by joy, which leads Luigi to vigorously clutch his brother, making him chuckle in surprise. Immediately, Mario hugs him tighter, and Luigi laughs even harder as he confirms that, as expected, his sibling’s energy is still intact and could take his breath away with a squeeze. He doesn't mind at all. Nothing could ruin the euphoria of having Mario back.

His rapture is such that, almost inadvertently, he begins to spring up and down in place, and it doesn't take long for his feet to move further away. As he continues to hold on to Mario, neither of them willing to let go of the other, he drags him along with him, but his twin doesn't seem bothered. In fact, Luigi suddenly feels how Mario's arms firmly encircle him around the waist and, the next thing he knows, his feet leave the ground, causing him to clench on to Mario even stronger as a loud squeal of surprise escapes his throat.

His brother's guffaws reverberate in his ear as he spins him around in the air, and Luigi joins in just a second later, his heart swelling in his chest at the bliss of the reunion.

When Mario finally sets him down gently, Luigi steps back a little, still snickering. His hands remain on Mario's shoulders, and his sibling, in turn, doesn’t let go of his waist. Luigi has to blink a couple of times to focus his still blurry gaze, and he jumps back as soon as he looks at his twin again.

“Mario!” he exclaims, cupping his brother’s face. “You're hurt!”

How could he have been so careless? The black eye, the blood... Luigi carefully runs his thumb over Mario’s injuries while, in his mind, he tries to remember if there’s anything within reach that he can use to help him. He’s going to need ice to apply to his eye, and gauze to clean the blood, and...

Mario's quiet laugh brings him back to the present.

“I'm fine, Lu,” he assures him, even though it's obvious that it's a lie. “They're just... war wounds.”

He shrugs and Luigi, much to his regret, smiles. He’s more than used to his twin always playing down the damage he receives during their adventures, no matter how serious. Still cupping his face in his palms, he leans down to kiss his sibling on the forehead, his affection for him warming his heart, and his grin broadens, full of tenderness, as he notices that Mario has closed his eyes the moment his lips have come into contact with his skin. When he moves away, they both exchange a loving expression that speaks for them.

“Come,” Luigi says shortly afterwards, reaching for Mario's hand, which he had raised to his shoulders. “I'm sure the professor has something to cure those war wounds,” he repeats jokingly, making Mario stick out his tongue. “In fact,” he exclaims as he realizes this, “he's going to be shocked when he sees you!”

To his surprise, Mario covers his mouth with his other hand to hide a giggle as he walks behind him.

“In fact,” he says, stealing his words, amusement coloring his voice, “I just came from his laboratory.”

“What?”

Luigi stops, open-mouthed, by the base of the tree and stares at him in silence, his fingers clenching his brother's.

“It's a long story,” Mario explains, looking around him doubtfully. “Do you think ...?”

As has sometimes happened when he’s seen Mario hesitate, Luigi, surprising himself, manages to react quickly.

“Say no more.” He puts his forefinger to his twin’s lips and grins. “Let's collect your things and go with the professor. You can tell us about it while I take care of you. I'm sure he'll be able to give you something to eat too.”

The smile Mario puts on is, to Luigi's amazement, timid.

“That would be great.”

At his response, Luigi abruptly realizes that, like him, his sibling must have gone hours without eating. And maybe even without drinking. He’s seized by the sudden urge to take Mario to the laboratory at once, to make sure he eats and drinks something before he starts to explain anything, to have the opportunity to begin treating his injuries. He gazes at the one on his elbow, which hasn’t stopped bleeding, and berates himself for having allowed his twin to pick him up in his condition. Is he blind? What kind of brother is he?

Hurriedly, Luigi bends down and picks up the shoe and glove. At least, he thinks, he’ll finally have a chance to return everything to his sibling, just as he intended. He would’ve liked the circumstances to be different, for the two to feel as best they could, but Luigi is well aware that, even so, he can't complain. What matter is that Mario is alive, and he’s going to make sure he gets better as soon as possible.

He's slightly startled to note that Mario is trying to grab the glove himself, so, taken aback, Luigi lets go of the garment. Looking distracted, Mario takes it with his right hand while stretching out his left, as if he were ready to put the filthy glove on his bleeding fingers.

Luigi almost has a heart attack.

“No way!” he stops him, holding his wrist. “It's very dirty and you're hurt. Your wounds could get infected!”

Mario chuckles.

“I just wanted to see your reaction,” he admits, giving him a slight push. “And you fell for it hook, line and sinker!”

“Very funny,” replies Luigi, folding his arms.

On his lips, however, a smile dances. It's a very good sign that his brother feels like teasing him despite his condition.

And how good it feels to be joking with his twin again.

For the next few minutes, Luigi enjoys every second of them both busily picking up Mario's objects, as his sibling never misses an opportunity to tease him whenever he can, pretending that he’s going to put his shoe on the sock stained with dirt and blood or that he drops the star when Luigi turns it over to him.

Still, when he picks up the letter, Luigi notices that there’s no trace of amusement in his brother’s gestures. Silently, he watches him unfold it and read it, and something breaks in his soul with the sigh that escapes from Mario's lips. Suddenly he seems dejected, as if he were being plagued by a flood of unpleasant memories, and Luigi wants to do something to erase them, to eliminate that expression from his twin’s face, to restore the joy and lightheartedness with which he was joking with him just a moment ago. He wants to pull his sibling out of the pit of sadness and desolation he has just sunk into and prevent him from falling back into it.

Then Mario looks up and, with a smile that’s anything but cheerful, holds out the paper to him.

“This is yours.”

Without a sound, Luigi reaches out and picks up the letter. He doesn't need to read it again, because he knows full well that it was a warning, a last attempt by his brother to keep him safe.

“I wrote it for you,” adds Mario.

Luigi tries to return his gesture but only manages to raise the corners of his mouth a little. Mario's shadowed gaze reveals to him that, much to his regret, he’s still immersed in those memories which he hopes he’ll soon share with him.

Perhaps, if they carry the burden together, it won't be so heavy.

“You have a lot to tell me,” he says, trying to give his voice a light tone that he’s not entirely sure he can achieve.

At least he manages to make his twin’s grin wider.

“And you me too,” says Mario, this time sounding much more carefree.

Luigi finds himself chuckling. He’s amazed by his sibling’s ability to overcome negative emotions. Deep down he knows that this is nothing more than a mask, and that Mario won’t be able to feel entirely better until he reveals all his fears and experiences to him.

But, for now, it’s enough.

----------------------------------------------

The first thing Mario did when he woke up again was to curse himself.

He shouldn't have fallen asleep again! He was supposed to stay alert! King Boo could return at any time, and he had to keep resisting. He had to go back to Luigi. He couldn't give up, even if he didn't know how to get out of that deserted world. He couldn't give up, even if his body kept complaining, at the end of his tether.

He couldn't give up even if it was the last thing he did in his life.

All he wanted was to see Luigi one last time. He’d be satisfied with that. He’d go in peace if he could only see his younger brother, safe and sound, before everything was over.

His defeatist thoughts came to a screeching halt the second his good eye revealed that the landscape around him had finally changed.

Surprised, he sat up, perhaps a little too quickly. A wave of dizziness plagued him, but he forced himself to ignore it.

He was no longer in the world of emptiness.

Mario had appeared, he didn't know how or why, in a room with stone walls and embedded columns. It seemed to have been very luxurious in the past, but at the moment there was nothing in it except a lamp hanging from the ceiling. Its light, although dim because it only had two bulbs, was enough to blind him, after his only healthy eye had become accustomed to the dull atmosphere of the lifeless place in which he’d been trapped for who knew how long.

Hope lit up in his chest as soon as he made out, at the back of the room, something that could lead him to his long-awaited freedom.

A door.

Mario didn't feel able to stand up again. His legs ached from all the running. His lungs begged for a long breath while his throat, dry and sore, protested ever more feebly, not to mention his growling stomach. His arm, his hand, his head and his mouth were bleeding, fresh blood mixing with the dried blood staining his skin. His eye was hurting more and more and he even feared he might lose it. His scratched cheek was throbbing as if he had a second heart just beneath it.

But the prospect of finally seeing Luigi caused all his physical pain to fade into the background.

There would be time to rest, to eat and drink as much as he liked. There would be time for his wounds to be properly treated. There would be time to give his body all the care it needed.

What mattered most to him now was to finally heal the pain in his soul.

Despite King Boo’s torture, Luigi hadn’t disappeared from Mario's thoughts for a moment, much less from his heart. He’d been unable to stop wondering how he was, if the Boos had hurt him, if King Boo had made good on his threat. Fortunately, he knew that if Luigi had fallen, he would know it deep down inside.

That would have been the signal to surrender and let himself be defeated.

There would be no point in living in a world without him.

In that instant, as he slowly got to his feet and started walking towards the door, Mario could only bring one hand to his chest to try to calm his weeping heart, which was protesting at the too-prolonged absence of his other half.

“Presto, cuore, presto,” he said to himself, gasping.

Speaking in his mother tongue, even if it was just to himself, brought him relief and reassurance that warmed him from within and made him feel closer to his younger sibling, even though he hadn’t yet been able to find him. The two often spoke to each other in the language of their homeland, inherited from their parents and grandparents, and it was how they used to comfort each other when they went through difficult times.

Italian was one of the many things that united the twins.

Soon, Mario reached the door. Fortunately, it opened without a problem and led him into a long stone corridor. The plumber began to walk down it, his pure love for his brother and his eagerness to see him being the driving force behind his legs. The corridor was winding and led to another door, which he could also open easily.

From then on, he was swallowed up by the darkness.

With every step he took, Mario regretted more and more not having a flashlight or a torch with him. There was nothing to illuminate these tunnels, and the realization that he was underground was somewhat overwhelming. He groped his way forward, his fingers feeling the stone walls, anxious to find an exit soon, an end, something.

Then his hand came across something and Mario stopped in his tracks, hopeful. He used all his fingers to slowly touch whatever it was that was in front of him. It seemed to be a smooth and resistant fabric, like that of... a canvas? Was he perhaps inside a painting?

He wasn't about to let that stop him.

“Hello?” he shouted, starting to hit the canvas from behind. His voice sounded hoarse and parched from lack of water, so he had to clear his throat before trying again. “Can anyone hear me? Please! I need to get out of here!”

He still had to ask for help a few more times before he finally perceived movement on the other side. Holding his breath, Mario leaned back and waited until someone finally removed the painting that was keeping him locked up.

The sudden artificial light dazzled him. He could barely take a quick look at the kind of art gallery he had ended up in before the person who had freed him caught his attention.

“Mario!” exclaimed the tiny little man, still carrying the canvas he’d just taken down from the wall.

He was short, shorter than him, which was saying something, and he had no hair except for a white streak that stood out on his forehead. He couldn't see his eyes because he was wearing glasses with spiral lenses, as well as a lab coat.

Had Mario stumbled upon... some kind of scientist?

“You're alive!”

The little man, delighted to see him even though he didn't know him at all, carefully put the painting aside and held out his hand to help him down. Mario accepted his offer, but despite this, he almost fell as he descended from the gap in the wall, as weak and dizzy as he was. Somehow, he had already become accustomed to people, especially the Toads, recognizing him and getting excited whenever they saw him in the streets of the Mushroom Kingdom, but when this person helped him up, he appeared genuinely pleased to have run into him, as if he missed him even though he didn't know him. Mario smiled at him, grateful and also very relieved to finally be able to interact with someone other than the damned King Boo, but he couldn't pay attention to the man’s words. He had to get his bearings in order to finally find Luigi.

It was, in fact, the name of his twin on the lips of the professor that caught his attention.

“Luigi?” he exclaimed, springing to him. “Is he here? Is he all right?”

“He's outside,” the old man explained, and his enthusiasm faded a bit. “He's... well, he thinks that you're...”

He didn't need to finish the sentence. Mario's shoulders sank slightly as he understood what his brother must be experiencing, but he was immediately overcome with determination.

“I have to see him,” he declared, clenching both fists, one bare and wounded, the other covered by a glove that was far from white. “Where is he?”

“Over here, son!” The scientist was soon cheered up again and led the way. “He's going to be so happy to see you!”

Mario was pleased to tell that the man seemed truly delighted. He wondered if he had been assisting Luigi while he remained trapped in that horrible environment that he preferred never to remember, and he was glad that his younger sibling had been able to count on his help.

Anticipating the second when he’d finally be reunited with him, Mario didn’t even pay attention to the rooms he passed through after the professor. He simply followed him up the stairs, ignoring the noises coming from some rooms whose doors remained closed, the pain of his lesions and the exhaustion of his body completely forgotten. He focused on the wooden door his guide was heading for. The man opened it and, with a smile, stepped aside to let him pass.

Mario took a deep breath as he found himself, at last, in the open air in a world he knew.

He might have been greeted by a dark sky and a gloomy and unwelcoming environment, as well as an unpleasant gust that ruffled his dirty, tangled hair, but it was still better than that cursed place where he’d been forced to flee from a fake Bowser. He couldn't help but notice, with surprise, the huge, now empty, plot of land where the mansion that had almost become his tomb used to stand. Mario wondered what had happened to it, why it was no longer there even though the entrance gate was still intact.

He didn't care.

It wasn't long before he heard some sobbing that drew his full attention. Turning to his right, he saw the leafless forest through which he had accessed the area, with a few crows perched in the highest branches.

And there, sitting on a large root protruding from the ground, he made out, with his back to him, the person he’d been looking for since he was attacked by the Boos.

His heart sank. His twin’s sobs stabbed at his soul like sharp daggers. He needed to make them stop. He needed to reassure Luigi that he was all right, that it had all been a lie, that it was all over.

He needed to embrace his beloved brother.

Ignoring the necessities of his body for the umpteenth time, Mario ran towards him, eager to reach his side. He forced himself to restrain himself, however, when he spotted the objects lying next to Luigi. His lost shoe, the one that that brute Boo had torn off him while he was trying to break free from his grip. His glove, resting on the root as if it were a ghostly hand. On the other side of Luigi, leaning against the tree, Mario made out the glint of the star, the one that could have saved them both so much suffering if he had only remembered to use it at the right moment.

Now that he was closer, Mario noticed that his younger sibling, in the midst of the grief he hoped to erase soon, was pressing two objects against his chest: his hat, which looked much cleaner than the last time he had it on his head... and the short letter he had written for him.

So, in the end, Luigi had found the note.

Mario let his shoulders drop. He was unable to smile while his twin was still in tears, but he felt a bit relieved to know that his warning had reached its intended recipient. And after all, Luigi was there, safe and sound. He had certainly outwitted the Boos. In fact, Mario then realized that he must have defeated King Boo too, or else he wouldn't be there right now.

Pride filled his heart and spread throughout his hurt frame, and he had to restrain himself from pouncing on Luigi and wrapping him in his arms with all his love and joy.

His brother was sad. He had to proceed slowly and carefully so as not to frighten him. He was going to prove to him that King Boo had lied to him. He was going to embrace him and allow him to cry in his arms while, he hoped, offering him the comfort and affection he needed.

Grinning softly, Mario held out his gloved hand and pronounced the name he used to call his sibling.

--------------------------------------------------------

“Lu.”

Luigi is startled by the concern that shines through his twin’s voice. He blinks a couple of times, returning to reality, and manages to focus again. Mario is staring at him with a smile full of adoration, but in his eyes, now that both are open, he can read a clear glint of worry.

Luigi purses his lips. He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't deserve for his brother to be so attentive to him, to go out of his way for him, to look out for him even when the most harmed one and who’s had the worst time of the two is Mario. Luigi only got a few bruises here and there, so slight that he doesn’t even remember them anymore. At least he’s glad he was finally able to treat his sibling’s wounds, especially his eye. Even though he didn’t say it out loud, seeing the condition of Mario’s left eye, Luigi came to fear that it was beyond saving.

Fortunately, it seems that, for now, applying ice to reduce the swelling and the ointment that the professor lent them will be enough for the eye to begin to heal. Luigi has decided that the first thing he’ll do the next day, as soon as they’ve rested, will be to take Mario to the Mushroom Kingdom hospital. His eye is going to need more than just ice to heal completely.

Luckily, the other lesions are healing well. Luigi has taken care to disinfect them all before bandaging or covering them in some way. His heart tumbled as he registered the seriousness of all of them and he berated himself, once again, for his negligence when he met up with Mario. He almost had to carry him back to the laboratory, as dizziness was taking over him even though Mario tried as hard as he could to hide it. His poor big brother... Now he has a bandage around his head to cover the huge injury that Boolossus caused to knock him out. That damn Boo... If Luigi had known what he’d done to Mario, if he’d had the slightest idea, he would’ve made sure the being paid for daring to hurt his twin.

He consoles himself by thinking that, at least, the specter is locked up now, like his king and all the other Boos who were bold enough to cause his sibling so much suffering. At least they’re paying for what they’ve done. At least they’ll rot forever on those canvases, from whence they should never have left.

Luigi jumps a little when Mario's fingers, with extreme delicacy, graze his cheeks. He lifts his gaze from the arm he’s bandaging and, looking back at his brother, Luigi notes that his eyes are blurry, and is surprised when his twin’s touch makes him perceive the dampness on his face.

At what point did he start to cry? Was it when he heard the way Mario attempted to escape Boolossus' brutal attacks to try to warn him not to go to the mansion? Could it have been the moment his sibling described everything that had happened in that other world, surely a dimension created by King Boo? Or perhaps they were tears of emotion caused by the way relief washed over Mario as he realized that he was no longer trapped in that horrendous place and, therefore, they could be reunited again?

Or maybe they’re simply tears of rage at the impotence he feels at not having been able to save his adored older brother from all his ordeal.

And to think that he felt alone and terrified as he wandered through that gloomy building alone... He could almost laugh at his stupidity. What he went through was nothing compared to what Mario had to face.

And it's all his fault.

He was the one who believed wholeheartedly that the contest was real. He was the one who got his hopes up thinking he had won something. He was the one who told Mario about his supposed new house.

He got him involved in all of that and Mario almost died.

Only to protect him.

If only there were a way to go back and spare his beloved twin all that torment...

Unable to contain himself, Luigi lets go of the bandages in a haphazard manner and pounces on Mario, who jumps back startled. However, his sibling is quick to return the embrace with a slight tender chuckle, and Luigi takes a deep breath to try to hold back his sobs as he senses Mario's reassuring pats on his back. He brings him closer and forces himself to release the air slowly.

“It's all over, Lulu.”

Mario's voice, sweet and reassuring, is like a delicate and loving caress that makes him smile. Luigi hugs him a little tighter as he nods, unable to speak.

“We're together, okay?” his brother continues, his tone full of serenity and adoration. “We're together and we'll never be separated again.”

A soft, warm kiss is pressed on his temple, and the love and care present in the gesture cause Luigi to melt. He tightens his eyelids as hot drops flow, wetting his twin’s shirt and drawing from him a sob that he cannot repress. Luigi sniffles for a moment and presses his cheek against his sibling’s, who strokes his hair affectionately. When he moves away from him, Mario hastens to cup his face and continues to gently wipe his tears away.

Luigi blinks and purses his lips in an effort to calm himself down. His brother's grin, as well as the sweetness with which he tries to comfort him, warms his heart and helps him, at last, to smile back.

“M-Mario, I...” he manages to say, his throat trembling.

He raises an arm to reach for one of his hands and Mario does not hesitate to interlace his fingers with his. Luigi clings to him and to the firmness that the contact transmits to him in an attempt to ground himself and try to find his voice.

The squeeze that Mario gives his hand is enough for him to manage to form the words.

“I'm so sorry, Mario,” he apologizes in a strangled tone. “I'm so sorry for dragging you into this...”

“Hey, hey,” Mario interrupts in a low but firm whisper.

Luigi perceives his twin’s palm pressing lightly against his cheek, trying to deepen the caress. He closes his eyes, moved, but, as much as he wants to, guilt won't let him stop crying.

“Lulu, you didn't drag me into anything,” Mario assures him. “King Boo framed us both, remember?

“Yeah, but I fell for it...”

“And so did I,” interrupts Mario, smiling, and lets out an ironic cackle. “In any case, we'd both be a couple of complete idiots, wouldn't we?”

That makes him giggle. His sibling always knows what to say or how to act to make him feel better, and Luigi is aware of his immense luck for having Mario in his life. He still feels guilty and undeserving of his forgiveness, but the quiet chuckles that his brother manages to draw out of him do lighten the weight on his heart a little.

“If only I could’ve spared you so many bad wounds,” he laments, observing, one by one, the injuries he has just bandaged.

“Well, every cloud has a silver lining,” replies Mario, amused. “I already have a costume for next Halloween: I'm a mummy!” he adds, lifting his half-bandaged arm and pointing at his head.

Luigi's guffaw comes from deep within and is genuine and thunderous. He’s amazed at himself for having emitted such a sound, but he has no regrets: not only does he feel better thanks to his twin, no longer wanting to weep, but Mario also joins in his laughter, looking at him with shining eyes. Seeing his older sibling amused again, slowly healing thanks to his nurturing and the food the professor kept in his laboratory, fills Luigi with so much joy and peace that he’s unable to describe in words, but which fill his soul with placidity and harmony.

He can't wait to take him home and make him one of his favorite dishes. Lasagna, perhaps, or spaghetti Bolognese. Or maybe he'd prefer his favorite pizza? Luigi doesn't mind, as long as he can take care of his beloved brother as he deserves and, in his own way, try to make up for everything he’s suffered.

He then notices the intense glance Mario is giving him, his blue eyes so glistening with affection that it only makes his smile widen.

“Besides, Lu...” Mario sighs and gently squeezes his hand, “you know I'd do it for you again. I'd go through the same thing all over again just to see you in the end. I wouldn't change a thing.”

He concludes with a shrug, as if what he’s just said means nothing, as if he didn’t just completely open his heart to his twin and fully reached Luigi's. He grins, his smile and his gaze full of love and devotion, as if he wanted to proclaim to the four winds how much he adores his little brother, but it was enough for him that Luigi knew.

Luigi, of course, needs no more to be moved. His lower lip trembles and his eyes are misting again, this time because of the tenderness that his sibling’s words have awakened inside him, but he tries to keep his throat clear.

“And-I t-too, Mario,” he says from the heart. “I w-would do it again t-too.”

Without letting go of his fingers or lowering his arm, Mario lets out a moved chuckle.

“Oh, Lu, you don't have to. I know how much you fear ghosts. You’re so brave for facing them all, but I’d never ask you to do it again.”

“I would,” Luigi assures him, nodding vehemently. “For you, I would.”

This time it's Mario's turn to get emotional. Luigi can see it in the way his eyes shine and his lips purse, in the unhurried way he takes a breath and releases it just as slowly. As if he can't believe his luck in having a younger twin like him.

But the lucky one, of course, is Luigi.

“Ti ho già detto quanto ti voglio bene, Lulu?” stammers Mario, his voice faltering.

Now it’s Luigi who, unable to contain himself, giggles tenderly, so much more moved than he feels able to express.

“Ti ho detto io quanto ti voglio bene, Mario?” he replies in the same tone.

The two chuckle in unison and close their eyes. Their foreheads touch, with extreme care due to Mario's bandages, but that doesn't stop him from placing his fingers on the back of Luigi's head to draw him closer. With their hands joined, they laugh and cry in silence, without haste, for everything they need is right there in front of them.

Mario is the first to bend down to put his arms around Luigi. He rests his head on his shoulder and embraces him tightly, squeezing him hard on purpose to make him laugh. Luigi, delighted to receive one of his older sibling’s bear hugs again, can only squeeze him back with the same enthusiasm.

He’s missed him so much.

“It feels so good to have you back with me, little brother,” Mario whispers in his ear, and Luigi thinks he could melt.

“It feels so good to have you back in my arms, big brother,” he replies, cuddling him.

Mario giggles, unwilling to release him, and rubs his head against his shoulder. Luigi is even more moved when he realizes that his twin is snuggling up against his chest.

“I swear you’re just as soft as a pillow,” Mario mutters without opening his eyes, his voice a little muffled.

Luigi lets out a soft chuckle at his brother's attitude and the serene smile that adorns his lips. Without a doubt, after all that’s happened and having stayed awake long enough to tell his story and for Luigi to tend to his wounds, the time has come for Mario to finally rest.

Judging by how unwilling his sibling seems to open his eyes again, Luigi gets that he’s beaten him to the decision. Laughing again, he holds Mario close and strokes his head gently.

“If you want, I can be your pillow,” he offers in a whisper, cradling him lovingly.

“That would be very nice.”

Mario's voice sounds weak, barely a murmur. Luigi knows very well that his twin is about to fall asleep, so, without letting go of him, he begins to lie down. He’s grateful that the professor has ceded his room to them so that they can have some privacy and a place to give in to drowsiness, and he’s pleasantly surprised at how comfortable the mattress is on which he’s now reclined. He looks down at Mario and what he sees fills him with warmth and tenderness.

His older brother, lying right on top of him, has curled up against his chest, his extremely placid expression and his slightly parted mouth are clear indicators that he’s already in the land of dreams. Luigi exhales and holds him tight, wondering if he’ll ever come to understand the magnitude of everything his sibling has lived through, of everything he’s suffered, for him.

Sensing his grip, Mario sighs in his sleep and clings to the strap of Luigi's overalls, who in turn sighs, his heart swelling so much he thinks it could burst. After that long and scary night, he could ask for nothing more than to have his twin like this, resting in his arms, finally safe and feeling so secure and warm that he immediately dropped off. Love floods his body when Luigi, taking care not to wake him, leans down to press his lips to Mario's forehead, on a spot free of bandages, and keeps them there for a few seconds, wishing that they can transmit to his brother all the peace, serenity and affection that he’s experiencing at the moment. With luck, they’ll bring him golden dreams.

“Sogni d’oro, fratellone,” he whispers, each one of his words filled to the brim with love.

Feeling the new breath escaping from Mario's half-open mouth, Luigi is satisfied and, without letting go, he lays his head on the pillow and closes his eyes.

Now that the nightmare is over, he too can afford to take a nap.

After all, he’s finally with him again.

[seventeenlovesthree]

Digimon Adventure Reboot Sequel AU - Prologue: Dreams

Summary: It's been years since the Chosen Children have saved both the Digital World and the Real World back in 2020. Things are mostly peaceful... Or so Taichi keeps telling himself, as he has been haunted by dreams for years - dreams about adventures he hasn't lived through himself, everything is familiar yet a little bit weird. They're becoming more and more vivid as time goes by, messing with his head, his perception, his memories - and he's not sure how long he can continue to be his most courageous self without anyone else noticing the cracks.

Chapter list: [Prologue] [0] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]

Resources: [This pretty little AU idea that hasn't left my head ever since] [Designs] [First Idea] [Playlist] [Ao3]

Word count: 900

When the dreams had first begun, Taichi hadn’t given it much thought.

"I haven't given up.”

Dreaming about adventures in the Digital World – considering how often he had gone gate-hopping alongside various of his friends for years now, ever since they had saved the place for the first time –, shouldn’t be surprising.

“You guys taught me that there's always something I can do until the end.”

He hadn’t even wondered about how different the Digital World had looked – things were often a little to the left within dreams, they weren’t exactly how one experienced them in real life after all. Places, people, clothes, devices… Nothing too worrisome.

For the first weeks, months, there wasn’t even a need for him to question the frequency of his dreams – since, at first, he quickly forgot about them shortly after waking up anyway. But then, slowly, but steadily, things had started to become more vivid.

“The future will continue and become connected.”

He began hearing the voices more clearly, recognizing most of them immediately – like a long forgotten yet familiar memory, seeping into his waking hours and sneaking back into his head. Which, again, didn’t happen all the time and also not consistently, but when he met up with his friends, asking Sora, Koushirou and the others for another trip into the net, he occasionally felt reminded again.

Of islands, trolleys, mountains. Of black gears, tags, cards. Of monkeys, vampires and clowns. Sometimes, he woke up feeling like someone had punched him in the face, other times, tears were streaming down his cheeks.

“I'll pass it on to you. Our... Our grown up... Hope.”

Still, he had decided to keep it all to himself – not matter how much he had been bothered by a slight sting of guilt in his chest whenever his glance had crossed Hikari’s, first thing in the morning. There had been no urgency to act. Years had passed and, aside from a few minor calls, their duty as Chosen Children had been “on hold” for the most part, so most of the travels to the Digital World had happened on their own devices. But whenever he entered the void, with Agumon right next to him, the voices, the images of his friends had become more detailed.

Nevertheless, he had gone through the entirety of middle school without telling a soul. About other voices he had never heard before, dark towers, digital eggs. How the person he saw himself as in his dreams seemed so strange yet so much like home that it scared him sometimes. He had brushed it aside every single time.

But now, in his second year of high school, they had almost turned into aggressive visions.

“Listen, Yagami.”

Last night, his dream had revolved around someone he had seen several times before – but only in his dreams. He appeared to be a teacher, his teacher to be exact. Sitting on the floor of some sort of control room, covered in blood, talking to him. Taichi himself had been stuck in a capsule, a countdown clock right next to him. Time was running out.

“No matter how hard reality is up ahead, don't ever give up.”

He had been about to die. And there was nothing he could have done. He remembered how his dream self had tried to smash the capsule into pieces, getting through to him. But it was all in vain. Regardless of how much he had wanted to scream, he couldn’t move.

“You guys go build the future.”

Even though he had never seen that man in real life, he had felt a connection. Felt like he owed him to get him out of that place this time. As if to make up for what he couldn’t have done before.

“Dream big!"

And yet, it had been all for naught. Once again, he had woken up in tears. Had checked whether there had been blood anywhere on his body, as it had felt almost frighteningly real. Not only that, his mouth felt awfully dry, as if he had screamed the word “Sensei!” out loud himself.

Heart pounding, sweating, Taichi couldn't help but wonder how long he could still keep quiet. Under no circumstances would he worry any of his friends about this – that he had sworn to himself. He was the bearer of the Crest of Courage, he had always, always found a way to push through, smile in the face of adversity. The others relied on him for that. The voices kept telling him that this was part of his duty – be courageous for the sake of everyone. More courageous than the self he saw in his dreams at least – who seemed to fall deeper into despair with every passing dream.

Taichi didn’t understand why there was such a discrepancy – as he had finally begun to ask questions. He felt sympathy for his dream self, a sense of remorse circling around all of his actions, as if there were a million things he regretted and wanted to make right. Watching himself like that only left him with the urge to… Give himself a hug. And ask him why he pushed his friends away like that, why he was so at odds with Yamato, so distanced from Sora, Koushirou and even Hikari…

He wouldn’t let that happen to himself. He would push further. Without worrying anyone about it.

He had to after all.

[heartfullofleeches]

angel darling whos a bit disconnected from modern terms walking up to c.c and saying "yas girl slay. so cunty girlypop" with not contexr because they saw it online and thought it was a normal compliment

Yan Incubus + Angel Darling blurb

-

The human world is such a fun and interesting place.

Everywhere you look, you learn something new. Things have changed so much since the last time you interacted with the mortal realm, but with the help of the kind demon you met during your travels you've had an easier time at processing everything at a beginner's pace. Your superiors always warned you to steer clear of his kind, but he hardly seemed like a threat. Not only had he given you bed and board, but as an added gift for staying away from humans as he instructed the demon had given you a cellular device to use while he was away.

There was a lengthy list of restrictions on the device, his number was the only one you could call under these boundaries, but that hardly put a damper on your fascination with it. You haven't seen one of these since they were just buttons and dials attached to a cord on the wall. It's amazing how much human technology has advanced in such a short time. Regardless of setbacks you're learning new facts about the modern world left and right, and you owe it all to your new companion.

You felt as if you owed him for his kindness, despite him insisting your company was payment enough. If that truly was the case, what better way to thank him than with gentle adulation using words you've picked up during late night binges scouring the internet. He always teases you for your "grandma speech" when you've complimented him in the past, despite the flush of his cheeks reaching his ears everytime. You wonder what his reaction will be when you call him by terms more fitting to the times.

C.C poses in front of his mirror - balancing on his toes as he bends to get a better look at the curve of his skirt over his rear. "So what do you think, babe? Am I cute enough for your first night out on the town?"

It's about the sixth time he's changed his skirt alone, but you think he's looked lovely in all of them. Nevertheless- it's your time to shine. Clearing your throat, you straighten your back as your eyes meet his from the mirror.

"Slay, Queen - you are serving so much cunt, girlypop."

C.C blinks - expression drain from his face. "What?"

"I said - Sla-"

"No, I heard what you said. Where did you pick up that kind of language?"

"Aside from you, online, I suppose."

C.C rounds the side of the bed, extending his hand with a few dramatic gestures forward. "Gimme your phone."

"Huh?"

He huffs and leans in close. "Now, Y/n."

"Have I don't something to upset you?"

Eyes flashing red, C.C grips your shoulders - hissing through his teeth as he speaks. "You aren't supposed to say things like that. You're supposed to call me beautiful or "a grace among man" or any of that other cute dorky shit you normal call me."

"Oh.... my apologies. I didn't mean to offend."

C.C sighs, throwing his arms around you in a tight hug. "No.. it's alright, I just really like what you use now. It's cheesy, but it's you and you are the most adorable your God ever had a hand in creating." He kisses your cheek, lips curled into that mischievous grin he's known for as they draw up to your ear. "But - I'll gladly be your Queen any day so I don't mind if we keep that one.... I'm still blocking the sites you picked the rest of those words off of."

[seokminfilm]

mosquito | lee seokmin

pairing: lee seokmin x reader

warnings: non-idol au, boyfriend!seokmin, fluff, established relationship, clingy seokmin, pet names (reader uses 'sweetheart' and seokmin uses 'baby' & 'love'), lyr in her soft seokmin hours

now playing: mosquito, pinkpantheress

As you scanned the shelves for a jar of tomato sauce, your phone rang in your pocket, vibrating against your body. Picking it up, you sighed when you saw the name on the screen, answered it, and brought the phone to your ear as you sighed. "Seokmin."

Your boyfriend was known for his clingy nature—all of his friends and your friends knew about his attachment to you, and teased him for it. You couldn't go very far or long without him texting or calling you to ensure you were okay; you thought it was adorable, but in some situations (like this one) it was slightly exasperating.

"I miss you, love. When are you coming home? Where are you?" Seokmin's voice had a pout to it, and you could imagine his face from your spot in the sauce aisle—brown eyes wide with his soft lips jutted out like a child having a tantrum.

"Sweetheart, I'm on my way. I'm shopping for dinner tomorrow and picking up some extra groceries. Just a few more things on my list and I'm done." You reassure him, voice calm as a sigh tumbles through the phone's speakers.

"Please hurry up. Please—I want to see you. It's been almost all day since we've talked face to face," Seokmin wasn't lying either, and your heart clenched at his words: your workplace was busy today, and you didn't get time to call him on your lunch break like usual. It's been hours since you've heard his voice, and now he's calling you every forty-five minutes because of the simple fact.

"I'll hurry up, Seokkie, I promise." You smile, and Seokmin falls silent for a few seconds, humming in response as you start to push the cart and hang up on him.

"No—please don't hang up on me," Seokmin's rich voice is now high-pitched and whiny, and you sigh, tempted to rub your temples as you go to the location of the last item on your list.

"I'll stay with you on the phone, okay? Just don't hang up on me. I want to hear your voice, baby." Seokmin's in his whiny mode, but you sigh nevertheless, agreeing as Seokmin now has a smile in his voice. "Tell me how your day has been."

Listening to Seokmin's words like he's the mature one here, you tell him about your day, detailing everything that went on from beginning to end. Seokmin listened intently, adding comments when he wanted to and complimenting you for how you handled certain situations.

"Well, I've got to check out our groceries now," You sigh, pulling your cart into a checkout aisle. "Do you really have to go now, though?" Seokmin was still persistent—it didn't even really annoy you anymore, you were just so surprised he missed you this bad.

"Seokmin, yes, I do. Call me in five minutes, okay? I'll answer," you promise him. Seokmin falls quiet on the other side of the phone, obviously thinking about the promise you just made to him.

"You better answer. I'm serious." Seokmin's voice is devoid of emotion, highlighting his seriousness. You smile and say goodbye, but it takes about ten extra minutes because Seokmin insists on using every pet name in the book before finally telling you he loves you. Once the call ends, you sigh and begin to quietly unload the cart.

After you finish paying for the goods and take them to the car, your phone buzzes in your pocket, and you pick it up, unsurprised that he was there and waiting for you.

"You're a diligent boyfriend, aren't you?" You chuckle, bundled up as you stuff yourself in three jackets and walk to your car with a wet nose and awful cough.

"The very best," Seokmin's voice is soft and sweet, and you giggle at his words, finishing your load up as you crank on the engine and start heading out. "I'm on my way home. I'm gonna see you soon," You smile, and Seokmin cheers on the other side of the phone, obviously ready to see you as his voice raises in pitch.

"I can't wait to have you back in my arms, love. I'll leave you alone while driving, okay? Drive well." Seokmin's goodbye makes your heart flutter, and you speed down the street, ready to give yourself to a selfless boyfriend like he was.

You felt on cloud nine when Seokmin hung up, and you sped down the road even faster, ready to soothe all of your sweet boyfriend's clingy worries and concerns.

feedback is greatly appreciated! let me know how you liked it in a reblog or comment <3

[kiyosw]

can i request with kafka, and himeko. where the reader was like always looking at people with a blank look but one day reader finally shows them a smile also showing their dimples for the first time, and kafka, and himeko has added another thing they love about you on their list. apologies if you're not accepting requests right now, aswell as if it's too short. but, i just love your writing so im interested.

TANGLED AND LOVE STUCK BY YOU, FROM THE GLUE.

CHARATCER/S: KAFKA, HIMEKO

WARNIG/S: GN READER, SLIGHTLY POSSESIVE (KAFKA), STELLARON HUNTER READER (KAFKA), EXPRESS CREW MEMBER READER (HIMEKO)

NOTE 1: OHOHKGL WAIT THIS IS SO CUTE AND YES MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND ITS NOT TOO SHORT! TY FOR THE COMPLIMENT THANK YOU SO MUCH I LOVE YOU the fact that I LOVE THESE TWO WOMEN just makes it cuter but ANYWAY!!

Himeko as your lover knows you rarely, barely smile.

Even when it's just the two of you on her room cuddling and enjoying eachothers presence, you would just comfortably hum while snuggling into her deeper.

She sometimes wonder if she makes you feel gloomy, or uncomfortable so that's why you rarely smile. But you reassured her that she never made you feel like that.

And on the express too, when you're talking to your fellow trailblazers (march, danheng, welt etc.). You would just stare at them with a blank, but not an intimidating expression.

She asked you one time on why you don't often smile, but you didn't really know why, really. You just told Himeko that you didn't even noticed it.

"Oh? Okay then, but do remember that I'll be more than fine to see you express your feelings more often, my dearest."

When she first saw you smile because of a corny but worth to laugh at the joke that march made, she was taken aback. Shocked, she's head over heels for you over again at that moment.

The way your dimples appeared while you're softly smiling melted her heart. She indeed, fell inlove again at her sweet lover.

After the conversation between march and you, she approached march and asked if she took a picture on her portable camera while you we're smiling and looking so effortlessly pretty.

"March, have you taken a shot of y/n while they're smiling? You did? Great! Can you please make me a copy of it? Just one will do."

This woman would TEASE you for not smiling. Endless teasing. She would jokingly call you an "emo", "bladie the 2nd", and you would simply blush in embarassment from her silly nicknames for you. She's the only one allowed to call you that.

After a long and sweet kiss from her, you would just simply sigh in satisfaction while burying your face over her neck instead of smiling over her neck.

Nevertheless, she still loved your way of affection towards her even when you're not showing your enotions through your reactions.

Even when talking to your fellow co-stellaron hunters, you would just give them a blank, but not threatening expression while having a chat with them.

Blade likes to chat with you more often than the other hunters since you're not annoying and loud, just listening and giving out a few words for what he said. He's like your sibling, that's how some of the people around you see.

But as jealous as kafka is, she would literally snatch you up, pull you and kiss you while blade is just sneering at the both of you.

After what just happen, she then ushered you away.

"Aww.. is my little emo preferring that dead vampire looking blade over me?"

She was jokingly pouting and satirically giving you puppy eyes while saying her thoughts at that moment.

After she said that, you just simply chuckled with light pink hues scattered over your cheeks, then later on pecked her lips while smiling.

"Of course not.. even if you are a bit annoying with your nicknames, I'll never prefer anyone over you."

Oh how the tables have turned. Now she's the one blushing not just because of what you said or the peck, but because of your smile.Your damn smile.

Those dimples of yours got her blushing like a lovestrucked fool. She knew she won't forget this side of you easily.

After that she just shushed you and pulled you to kiss her again.

NOTE 2: AHHHH I hope this was what you expected, I apologize if I may not so thats why I made the two scenarios of them different so you can pick at the two. BUT ANYWAY! HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED!! :3

[disarmd]

i got tagged in a few different wips games but it was exhausting to even contemplate trying to list them all. and it still is, but nevertheless i'm going to be so brave. thank you for tagging me to the folks who did.

in abidance, oscar/lando/daniel: 15,987 words

the big o, lando/oscar: 2,575 words

this too is carcar, oscar/carlos: 1,584 words

grow something, lando/daniel: 8,707 words

sugar higher, lando/max: 1,188 words

jizz curse, daniel/max: 1,770 words

plus other ones that i haven't worked on in enough months that they're forgotten. or things too short to be worth listing. like i wrote 191 words of lando and maxV switching dicks and that's not enough to count as a wip but i'll tell you what i did make myself laugh with those 191 words.

anyway, i don't have a plan for this post. i thought maybe listing them would make me feel better somehow but it has not. that's almost 32k of words. i'll tell you what i actually want to do, which is start something entirely new that will be free from the taint of being a wip. like something so short.

[43501]

Any Near/Reader and or OC fic recommendations? from either FF.NET or AO3?? its so HARD coming across any good ones, oh and, have you read the fanfiction called Noel? I think the concept is so fun and the Near characterization is 👌

Hi! It's kind of dire out there for us looking for Near stuff that isn't just meronia, isn't it? I'd be willing to bet you've already read all the ones I'll recommend.

At time of writing there's only 43 entries in the Near/Reader tag on AO3. Half of them aren't even Near/Reader fics, but massive "one shot compilations" that might feature like, a 100-word drabble if you go digging for it among all the other chapters containing pairings you don't give a damn about (can you tell this is a practice I hate).

There's 137 on FF.net but the actual number may be higher due to changes with FF.net's search function over the years. A good portion of these are genuinely unreadable - some due to zero formatting and being a literal solid block of text with no line breaks, some so out-of-character it'd give you hives. Full disclosure that while I have read all the ones available on AO3, I haven't read all of these (and likely never will, I have a line-up of fics I actually know are good and that I'd like to read next lol).

Risk & Risk and Reward - Two very explicit, wonderfully pornographic fics that nevertheless feature flawless Near characterization and an interesting angle on the relationship between (you) and him. These are my personal favorites and closest to my own interests and writing style.

Chicken - Same author as above but fic is completely unrelated. This one is straight up sex, it doesn't have the emotional and interpersonal aspects of the duology above. A warning that (you) and Near are teenagers at Wammy's House for this fic. I don't personally see an issue with this, but I know it's a thing some people avoid.

I'll hold onto this feeling until the grass stains on those old shoes are completely gone - It's by @aizawashuichi. A very unique entry in this list. Plot-heavy and light on the romance aspect, depiction of the relationship between (you) and Near is bookended at the start and at the end. It features a very thoughtful, honest exploration of Near's character in a relationship. A warning that this fic uses an extremely omniscient form of second-person perspective*, but this choice serves an end and I think you should read it because what the author manages to pull off here is very interesting.

(* That is to say there are entire scenes, sometimes chapters, where the scene depicted uses "you" as the narrative pronoun but the character representing "you" is not actually there perceiving the events.)

Yours Truly, Near - It's by @masodemic. Technically Near x OC, but author tagged "Near/Reader" and invites that interpretation although it's not written in second person and Corrin is a named person with defining characteristics. A slow-burn romance told through a series of letters exchanged between Near and Corrin, with occasional interludes where they meet in-person. At time of writing it's still ongoing and receiving new chapters.

Will The Circle Be Unbroken - Near x OC. After a few years of serving Near as his "Watari", Roger passes away and a woman from the fourth generation of Wammy's kids is called in to succeed him. A short one-shot with no actual romance in it, but it's well-written, has good characterization and I think the author's idea was interesting.

That's all I got in the x Reader and x OC categories. I hear there's promising Near x Sayu ones floating around out there, but for some reason I've been skittish about them and haven't read any yet. Got some Near x Halle and Near x Gevanni bangers from the LiveJournal days (so impeccably written they've influenced my taste and style to this very day) but they're a bit spicy. As far as Mello x Near goes, confidently say God's Dice by forbiddensoul562 (a wild ride of a fic told entirely from Near's perspective and a long read) and basically anything by @neallo (AO3 link).

I haven't read Noel yet (it's on my list) but that fic is one of those ones that achieved a kind of semi-legendary status in the fandom and I anticipate it'll become influential for me. It's just that the total works in the Noelverse are 150,000+ words and I need to commit to the read. It will happen for sure.

[dark-night-hero]

Teachers dilemma (Rowan Theodore)

⤷ One thing lead to another and you finally figure out the thing that he has been keeping from you for so long. In which you found yourself along with your students kidnapped only to wake up with a bunch of panicked kidnappers telling to you save them (??)

To be fair, your day was going really well it was so damn suspicious. The field trip with your advisering class was all and well until you and your students find yourselves getting kidnapped on your way back into the bus. It was pretty quick too, one moment you were talking to the three of your students whom was running late for the next destination, the next thing you knew you heard a muffled scream of one your students and as soon as you turn around, you felt an aching pain on the back of your head before eventually went black. The horrified look on your students eyes were the last thing that you saw.

When you woke up, you expected to be in a tight bond only to feel that you are in fact free. Although the back of your head is aching, the last thing you expeted when you open your eyes was to see your kidnappers in a midst of panic. You kids- students sitting on the floor right beside you as they form some sort of formation around you. Come to think of it, rather than hurt, they look calm and collected- maybe even annoyed at the current situation. Now that you think about it, being the leading teens in their generation, this doesn't seemed to be the first time they were kidnapped.

"Teacher, you're awake." One of your student, Alexander whispered in relief. "The back of your head won't stop bleeding earlier. We thought you're going to die." This time it was Andrei who spoke causing you to let out a chuckle. Right, you got smacked in the back of the head. Yeah, it would take you a lot for you to die just like that. "How long have they been like that?" You ask, shaking your head in the direction of the panicked kidnappers. "Ever since we got here." Answered Alexandra, twin of Alexander. Come to think of it, "Are the three of you okay?" "We're fine, we're not hurt. Just a bit out of it because of the drug but nothing we couldn't handle." "Alright- arghh my head hurts like shit." "Careful teach."

You look around, head throbbing, the back of your head aching. Your students were trying to block your sight, nevertheless you still try and as soon as you do, you made an eye contact with one of the armed man and without a missz he walked towards you. You felt your heart drop before it started racing. You tap your students gently and started moving forward, hoping to block your student away from the man's view. With the rest of the culprit now looking at you, and the man so close right in front of you. You curse on your head, recall all self defence your fiance made you go through. "Leave my stude-" "Please have mercy!" "???" What the fuck is happening?

"All you have to do is put up a word for your lover to leave us alone once he got in here. Yeah? Will you do that yeah?" What the fuck is he talking about? "I'm sure he'll back off nicely if you told him it was all an accident no? Will you do that for me? I'll make sure you and your students will be treated of nicely-" "what are you-" "Is that what you're expecting me to say?" Baffled, you can feel the way the mood shifted as your kidnapper started laughing like crazy. Maybe he had gone crazy by the way his people started sweating and looked even more frightened as their boss lost their mind. At the same time you can feel the hold of your students tighten around your shirt.

"No way in hell I'll miss this chance of messing with the big bad guy." "What the fuck-" "Enough with your nonsense, there is no way in hell you don't know what your lover was doing when he was going around taking down and taking over the mafias for the past few years. Come to think of it, you've been listed on top of the 'No touch' list. That's the reason why no orgs and groups have touch you so far. All in fear what the mighty phoenix would do once his beloved were to ever be harm." He then stood up before grabbing you around your collar and atarted dragging you away from your student who started shouting when you have them a warning glare. You need to be calm, it's not like you aren't drill when it comes to being kidnapped. At the same time even though your students have gone through a lot of kidnapping case. It seems like things aren't so simple anymore.

"Boss we really can't afford this- he's going to kill us!" "So what? The moment we laid hands on his fiance were doomed to die, so might as well take it all for its worth." You tried to be calm. Whatever the fuck they were talking about, you were having none of it. Mafia? Are they saying your best friend, your fiance, your childhood friend is a mafia? Who the fuck are they kidding? There is no way in hell that son of a lazy bitch is a mafia leader. At the same time, there is just this gut feeling on what they are telling you were real.

It did not take them too long to tie you in a chair, your student bound and gagged in the corner of the room. So there where you, tied on a chair aa you glare at the guy as he just finished putting on your gag. "I wonder what made him choose you of all people wanting to be his fiance. But looking at you like this, he sure has his taste." Grabbing you by your chin, you felt a shiver down your spine. And it did not stop their, he started caressing your cheeks and ehen you tried to pull away. "This goes on pretty simple gorgeous." Suddenly the way he was holding you tighten. "We do this my way with no complaints or you watch as we blow one of your students brain." You turned stiff, glancing your students on your peripheral vision so see the three shaking their heads furiously, as if telling you to stay still, they can handle it. And then there was a phone ringing.

"Finally the big bad wolf called." Letting go of your chin harshly, he marched towards the table and went off to grab the phone that kept on ringing. "Theodore! It's about time you pick up the phone for a call you know-" "Mon chère." It was him. Suddenly you felt like crying. You never thought that annoying pet name could bring you so much relief. "What the fu-" "Mon chère, can you close your eyes until I told you to open them again?" Without asking, you did as you are told. And as soon as you do, there was this sound of the glass breaking followed by a thud followed by another, and then another until there was nothing but silence.

You don't know for how long did you stay like that. But the moment someone touches your cheeks, you instantly relax upon feeling a familiar touch. Gently, someone untied the gag around your mouth as your hae could finally relax. "Open your eyes mon chère." There he was with an expression you never thought you would see in his face.

There he was, water and sweat rolling down his all soaked figure. "Where have you been?" Findig out you have been untied from the chair, you reach out to touch his blood stained cheeks, wiping off the blood in his face. "Looks like you run all the way from the other side of the globe to find me." You laugh, only for him to lean into the palm of your hand and hold it close to him. "I thought I won't make it in time." He said truthfully. "I'm sorry." You just smile at him as you reach out to run your hand through his hair and he lean down instantly. "I'm sorry."

The ride back home was pretty silent, mostly because you were asleep upon finding out your students were safe and sound. The last thing you remember was riding the helicopter to the airport upon finding out the four of you had been gone for almost 5 hours now. So when you woke up on a rather familiar limo, you knew you're on your way back home. "Wake up mon chère, were close back at your parents place." You felt him gently tap you in the cheeks, leaning against him. "My parents?" "Yeah, they wanted to check on you." "Hmm I see." Pulling away from him, you stare outside the window, fully aware of the change that was about to come.

"Were here." "Theo." "Yeah?" "Let's break up." In an instant there was silence. "Alright." Maybe it was because you were busy looking at the front door of your house, or maybe your own reflection on the window. But you failed to see the look of pain in his eyes that was instantly replaced with calmness as soon as you turn to look at him or perhaps you were too busy with the own ache in uour heart upon hearing how nonchalantly he agreed with the break up. "It was fun being engaged to you Theodore." You smile at him. "Have a good night, sorry for the trouble." "I'm used to cleaning your mess (First name)" He chuckles and messes with your hair causing you to groan and glare at him. "You should get going. Aunt and uncle is worried." "Okay."

Getting out of the limo, you catch a glimpse of your engagement ring. "Theo-" "Keep it." "I was used to wearing it anyway." You roll your eyes at him. Making sure you did not forget anything, you were on your way back when you heard him call after you. "Mon chère." "Did you forg-" "Ce n'est pas parce que je t'ai laissé partir que tu es libre de mon emprise" "???" "Enough of your bullshit Theo. See you on monday." "Alright. I'll leave when you reach the door step."

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

Bonus:

Theo: Papa, I resign as the patronne.

Papa: What the fuck is that non- why are you crying?!

Theo: Mon chère doesn't like my affiliations with the mafia

[writing-in-the-impala]

Secret Smokes (Part 3)

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: 2038

A/N: Once again thank you for all the love this is a side blog so I can't reply from this account to you all below the post but I read every word I promise. You guys are the best ! Some people have asked about being tagged, yes I can tag you! So if you want to be added leave me a reply below and I'll tag you in the future parts and if you decide you want to be untagged just message me and I'll remove you it's okay I won't judge.

 | SERIES MASTER LIST (All chapters) |

Previous Chapter, Part 3, Next Chapter

Over the next few weeks you committed to showing up to lessons more often, you spent time with the Weasley's but you avoided getting into trouble. People started noticing the sudden change in your behaviour and dedication to your studies, Percy was very proud of your change in attitude and believed his talk with you helped you get there, you let him believe it but really it was all profesor Lupins doing. Unfortunately his class was the one you got the worst grades in, it was okay when you didn't attend and got bad grades but even with attendance they didn't grow it was your weakest subject.

Your evening smokes continued some days Lupin was there some he wasn't but he was there often some days he wouldn't smoke he would just be there to talk with you, your conversations turned deeper than they used to be as you got to know each other and you looked forward to them, you saw him as someone you truly connected with, yes the girly attraction was still there but what girl didn't find him attractive he had girls flirting with him constantly. It did make you feel uncomfortable watching the girls put bright lipstick on before entering his class and staying behind to ask him questions or for extra lessons, but he seemed to not mind and act profesional giving the girls extra lessons and paying no attention to their advances.

You had DADA last on Fridays which normally would've meant a lot of people not paying attention and aching to leave but profesor Lupin kept the class entertaining and engaging. It was a practical lesson, the ones your dread because with lack of practice you genuinely sucked at practical lessons. But you got through it and you were excited for the weekend to start, before you left the class Lupin asked you to stay behind. So you said bye to Percy and a few others telling them you'll join them later, you weren't worried that you'll get told off like with most teachers when they ask you to stay behind it was Lupin so you patiently waited for the last few girls to say "bye profesor" while walking out and then went over to his desk where he had sat down.

"What's up?" You asked as you approached his desk.

"Please, sit down Y/N." He said quite formally gesturing to the seat in front of him, now you were getting worried. "I'd like to speak with you about your grades." He paused and saw your face drop before continuing. "Now please don't think of this as a telling off, your attendance is better this year than any year before and I've heard great things from your other teachers about the progress you've been doing." He said but you still looked worried so he added. "You should be very proud of yourself Y/N." Which made you relax into the chair a bit more. "Nevertheless, I am worried about your grades in my subject as you're doing well in the theory side however it's using the spells in practice that you seem to struggle with. I know you've had a few hard years with the rotation of teacher, some worse than others, so it's not your fault you are in this position." He said all of this formally. "Although notoriously skipping classes for the last sexi years probably didn't help." He said with a small laugh as a friend rather than a teacher. "I want to help you, I've been speaking with your head of house about how we can improve your grades and we believe you need extra lessons, practical magic like this can't be learnt through studying alone in your dorm you need real practice. So I'm happy to offer you tutoring twice a week on Mondays and Wednesdays, to help you catch up." You sat silent still. "You don't have to do this, but profesor McGonagall and I do believe it is in your best interest." He added you just looked down embarrassed that you skipping classes has lead to this. "Okay Y/N I'm dying here please say something." He said casually addressing your silence.

"Thank you profesor." You said.

"How do you feel about my suggestion?" He asked.

"Embarrassed." You stated. "How so?" He asked I'm a caring tone. "I wouldn't be in this situation if I listened to everyone when they told me not to skip so many lessons."

"You're not the only student who will be receiving extra lessons, I have a small group of girls that have asked for extra time that I teach on Tuesdays. If you want you can join them so it's not just one-on-one if that's more comfortable for you?" He offered.

"But I'm the only one who actually needs tutoring. They only asked for it because they have a crush on you." You blurted out in your annoyance.

"Trust me crush or not some of those girls need extra lessons. Still after weeks of receiving them." He said honestly. "They're too busy staring at your lips to learn I guess." You said laughing to yourself, he gave you a gentle smile. "Y/N, you're a quick learner. You know the theory, with a little practice you'll be caught up by Christmas."

"Okay. As long as these lessons are done by 9pm." You said with a hint of humour.

"I would never let education get in the way of your nicotine addiction, I'm not a monster." He replied jokingly. "We have a deal." You say.

"Perfect, now enjoy your weekend." He said and you took that as a queue to leave. "And Y/N, don't let this overshadow all the effort you've been putting into your studies, you're doing amazing." He said whole heartedly.

"Thank you professor." You said leaving the classroom. You looked him as a teacher so if you needed anyone to give you extra lessons you were glad it was him.

You went straight to the great hall for dinner after your conversation with Lupin, Fred and George had a space saved for you next to them. "What took you so long?" Fred asked.

"Lupin is making me take extra lessons." You said solemn.

"Bullshit, you've been studying harder than ever."  Fred expressed.  "I know but I'm still behind, plus it's only two days a week and he said it'll only be until Christmas." You explained.

"I think it's a conspiracy." George stated. "Now why's that?" You ask amused. "They're obviously trying to keep you away from us so we don't pull any pranks." He expresses. "This has old minnie all over it." Fred adds sniffing the air comedically.

"Now that you mention it..." you say looking over at the teachers table watching Lupin and McGonagall speaking. "...Lupin did mention this being her idea."

"See! Merlin, Y/N we need to pull a prank now." George states. "Show them we can't be stopped so easily." Fred adds. "I don't know guys, I've been enjoying not sitting in detention."

"George, she's getting all soft." Fred states. "Now that's not okay." George replies and they both have a cheeky smile before they stand up and suddenly pick you up while you protest taking you out the great hall while you laugh and tell them to stop, you hadn't even had time to eat before the kidnapping and the whole school watched this happen but the boys didn't care. They carried you straight to the dorm room plopping you down on the sofa. "Y/N it's time to plan our first big prank of the year." George begins. "Perfect timing as well as we can go to Hogsmeade over the weekend to get any supplies we need."  You laugh and agree to the plotting, you plan a prank. It was to happen in the library, the plan was to hex every book, the books about animals would bite you, the books about history would disintegrate in your hands, the books about plants would be filled with soil and so on. You would obviously need to take all the real books and hide them but that wasn't a problem using the marauders map. You were looking at the map when you noticed Lupin was already standing on the bridge, you checked your watch and it was after 9pm already, he was just standing there you felt like you were missing out on seeing him plus you were scared he'd think you're ignoring him after your conversation earlier. "Boys I need to go, it was a pleasure scheming with you as always. I'll see you tomorrow." And with that you took the map, put it in your pocket and headed for the bridge. When you were around the corner you saw Lupin walking down the corridor in your direction, he must've finished smoking you thought. "Good evening professor." You said with a smile and me looked up at you with a grin. "Evening, Y/N. Evening stroll?" He questioned as if to ask why you didn't go to the bridge tonight.

"Just going to destress." You said showing him your pack of cigarettes.

"I forgot mine in my office I was just going to go get them." He explained, odd because he had been standing on the bridge for a while you think to yourself.

"You can borrow one of mine." You state.

"I'll give you two tomorrow." He replies turning around to walk with you. "I hope I wasn't too harsh on you today." He says as you walk after a moment of silence.

"You weren't harsh at all." You say with a hint of confusion.

"I didn't think you would come here today in all honesty, after the way you looked at me after class and during dinner." He said with a soft smile but you could tell there was some hurt behind there. "How did I look at you?" You ask.

"Differently." He simply stated, maybe because usually you look with admiration and a bit of lust while now you were looking at him like at a teacher for the first time.

"Well you are about to ruin two evenings a week for me by making me study." You remark.

"Is that how you see spending time with me? Am I ruining your evening right now?" He teased.

"You know what I mean, this Lupin isn't the same as profesor Lupin." You say adding emphasis to professor.

"I am the same person Y/N. If you're afraid that I'm going to be making you write essays and do homework you're mistaken, I promise I'll make the evenings fun." He says in his teacher tone. Maybe it was the mischievous energy from planning a prank that allowed you to say what followed maybe it was purely forgetting he's not your friend but you replied with. "Fun evenings? What does that mean?" You watched him swallow getting a bit uncomfortable and not knowing how to answer. "I mean don't treat it like a punishment. I'm just trying to help." Your brain went straight to replying with something inappropriate about getting punished but you held your tongue as you didn't want to push it too far.

"I hope you don't think I hate you, I really enjoy our talks." You say. I really only came here to talk to you, I feel like smoking on a empty stomach will make me feel worse." You we're over sharing now but he didn't seem to mind.

"I watched you get carried out by the Weasley twins before dinner, the whole school did." Lupin remarked unamused making your face go red.

"Yeah they were messing around and wanted to go talk as they said I've been too busy with lessons this year."

"They sound like a bad influence," He said sternly before pausing and thinking. " keep them around sometimes you need friends like that." He added.

"Profesor you're great at encouraging bad behaviour." You say laughing.

"Friendships like that are sometimes very important, if only you knew what I got up to when I was your age." He said with a soft reminding smile.

"And what would that be?"

"I can't say, I'm your teacher after all." He added a wink at the end which you didn't know the meaning of, but all you did know was you wouldn't find out anything more about his past.

NEXT CHAPTER | More stuff I wrote

Tags (leave a reply and I’ll add you or PM me to get removed):

@thesoundresoundsecho @ahoyyharrington

[groenendaelfic]

Hey,

haven't seen you around a lot lately. Just writing to check in. how is it going? Wish you a nice evening

it is going, thank you for asking!

Life has been very busy these past few months but is moving in a hopefully good and definitely exciting direction.

In this particular order (if memory serves correctly) I've:

decided to move halfway across the continent

marked the one year anniversary of the worst time of my life

had other people mark the one year anniversary of the worst time of my life with all that entails

quit my job (I'd been planning that for a while)

had my boss and hr offer to let me go instead and half my notice period to two months (aka 'give' me more money and facilitate my move, yay pity)

started looking for a place to live and organizing my move

found a new job in a slightly different corner of halfway across the continent (I start July 1st)

got my request for citizenship approved (epic timing guys)

found a place to live in an awesome area (I will be able to do all my errands on foot and my new job is only a short bike ride away)

told everyone I was leaving for sure

signed the paperwork to have my uncle in law take over the place here

had my cousin offer to move my stuff with his remodeled fire engine in exchange for gas and (bridge) tolls

did all the paperwork in the universe ever

started saying my goodbyes for now (I still have lots of family and friends etc here so I'll be back a lot)

had my cousin tell me he'd make a bro trip out of the move because his friends really wanted to see a basic bridge, and room and board plus no girls was all the compensation they needed for getting to carry my boxes

said thanks but no thanks to citizenship (sorry Wille, you'll always be my King)

was asked if I minded the move taking a bit longer because the guys wanted to stop for totally unplanned soccer (a not insignificant part of their motivation if not a deciding factor I dare say)

did more move and job leaving planning and paperwork

welcomed, fed and watered a bunch of guys really into soccer bridges and very disappointed I didn't have more boxes they could compete carrying

prepared a big lunch basket and said goodbye to said guys and my boxes

sat down to write this list wondering where I should celebrate midsummer (aka do I want to travel back and forth to get everything ready or stay until it's time to hand in my work laptop etc)

Phew, yes. Also a million other things which won't come to mind right now. Thank you to everyone who left me such kind messages btw. I appreciate them so much but am still learning to respond to kindness and compliments without awkwardness. They nevertheless give me life.

In more interesting news to everyone here I've also done a lot of writing.

Mostly on One Wild Summer, which has already grown into a monster, but I've been writing the exciting parts later on and still guesstimate a 15k or so stretch which needs bridging to get to all the fun stuff I've already written.

but also on The Prince and the Barista and As Long as We Have Each Other. I only need to make it coherent and once again fill the gap to where I stopped posting.

plus *cue exasperated sighs* I'm also 9k+ into a new fic! The (once more) absolutely most self-indulgent thing I've ever written in this fandom and something I swore I never would turn into a proper fic. Expect the prologue for that (which was meant to be 500 words and not 5k) soonish.

Everything else including regular updates not before mid to late July though I think. Because moving and starting a new job and life means busy times and while I can write scribble down connected sentences with half a mind, I can't beta read and edit with half a mind.

tl;dr: I am still writing yr fic and haven't abandoned my fics, but am also busy moving. goodbye cloudberries and lingonberries, hello wineberries vineyards and appleberries apple orchards.

[cardicoven]

hi!! could you share any of your experiences interacting with persephone? or how has it felt to communicate with her? or even just fun anecdotes. ive given her an offering and im so happy to worship her... but god theres so little info or people talking about her!!!

Hey! So thanks for the lovely question, its great to hear that your reaching out to Persephone and are looking into worshipping her. I've been working with Persephone for around 3 years, giving weekly (often daily) offering and have maintained an altar space for her throughout that time. I say this not to boast or seem all knowing on the topic but to give some small context on my practice with her. Like many others my practice and worship of Persephone varies with the seasons, I feel her most strongly in Spring and Summer. During this time when light her candle I feel her presence, almost in that way when a Parent/Mentor/Guardian looks in your direction and you feel their eyes on you. When I leave offering during these months, I often experience feedback sometimes emotional, rarely I'll hear an affirmation, 'Thank you' or 'how thoughtful' kinda thing. When I call for her assistance in ritual I feel her behind me, sometimes guiding my hand, or I'll smell/taste something she advises for the ritual, only for the feeling to pass when I lay my hands on the herb/oil/item suggested. When it comes to divination she a dedicated card in my Tarot the 10 of Pentacles (which in my deck is the Pomegranate 10 of Crops, I use the Bottanical Deck link) and in my experience she's always happy to make it appear when she has something to say during Divination. In Autumn and Winter my experiences with her is very different, she feels distant, less patient, she's in the Underworld and has stuff to do. I don't feel her when I light my candles or leave small offerings. Only when I Invoke her and ask for her help in ritual do I feel her presence, its powerful, not stern per se but business esc, she's there to help and her time is not to be wasted. During this time I only invoke her when I really need her, most often in death work, or partially important banishings/protections and I always have a sizable offering at this time. That's not to say Persephone is not comforting or compassionate towards me in the colder months, her attention is elsewhere, and her responsibilities are with the dead.

That's all little heavy so here's a fun Anecdote. A few Years ago, myself and some witchy friends had a Party, there was plenty of drinking and debauchery (we were celebrating a friends bad break up). During a lull in the evening we pulled some cards and did some Tarot, nothing serious just good fun freaking out a few non-witchy friends, nevertheless Persephone had a word or two to share on the breakup, and while I don't remember much of it, it consisted of pointing out the Guys flaws and highlighting my friends strengths. After we put the cards away my friend asked how she should thank Persephone for her insight, I said leave her a wee offering, pour a shot out for her outside. My friend did so and said the following 'Thank for your wisdom Lady Pomegranate', before going back inside and passing out. I guess it's the thought that's counts.

Just gonna finish this off with a small list of recommended Reading since Anon is just starting out, and hopefully it might be useful. I'll link to Goodreads, but you should be able to find copies of these online somewhere if you try to. o Persephone's Pathway by Jennifer Heather: link : a wonderful exploration of Persephone from a modern pagan perspective but not without flaw. (my review) o Greek Religion by Walter Burkert: link : Currently making my way through this, it's academic and a heavy read but so far enlightening. o Old Stones, New Temples by Drew Campbell: link : an older book about Hellenic reconstructionism, reading it atm, so far its heavy but good. o Underworld Gods in Ancient Greek Religion by Ellie Mackin Roberts: link : On my reading list, 'This volume presents a case for how and why people in archaic and classical Greece worshipped Underworld gods.' o Hellenic Polytheism: Household Worship by LABRYS: link : I haven't got around to this yet but it's comes highly recommended. Hope this helps, and thanks again for the ask.

[sturnioloszn]

SturnioloSzn's Tumblr Recap 24'

I saw @sweetshuga do her recap, and it inspired me to do one (thank uu, pretty), even though I'm insanely new to tumblr lmfaooo.

I joined tumblr in early October, but I didn't post anything on my account. Then, on the 12th of Oct, I posted my first oneshot, and since then, I've posted 11 oneshots and 2 (veryyyyy) mini series.

Somehow, one of my silly stories has nearly 1.5k notes, and I'm still baffled to this day. I'm so thankful for all the support I've received since literally day 1. Thank you again for 400 followers; that's actually mental. When I first joined, I neverrrrr expected to have this many people even notice me, let alone follow me.

I think my writing is incredibly average, and there's really nothing special about it, but some of the comments I receive under my posts make me seem like I'm Shakespeare lmfaoooo, and I am so grateful for all the love. I have previously said that I do just write for fun, but nevertheless, I'd love to practice writing more and post better content. (But if you haven't noticed that english isn't my first language, then I'd say I'm not doing too bad, lmaoo).

I've been in a shitty place mentally in these past few days, but I'm gonna try push thru and get more stuff out. Sorry if I take a while, bear w me. 😭

That's abt it! I haven't been here long, but hopefully, next year, I'll have a mile long list of things to recap.

My goals for next yr are pretty basic, but they include: posting more frequently, being more involved in the community, making more friends/mutuals, and getting better at writing!

Also, here are some ppl who I think r insanely underrated n definitely deserve more praise than they receive because they are v talented:

~ @sweetshuga / @mattsmedusa

~ @chestersturniolo / @chestersturnz

~ @y3sterdaysproblem

~ @stvrnioloslvt

~ @freshl6ve

~ @sagesturns

[diced-sugar]

Last October, I was incredibly busy with school, and even then I've never really had any time to participate in October drawing challenges. But, I saw this OC-Tober thing going around by MoonSkiier on Deviantart and I really wanted to do a few of the prompts! This is actually taken from the 2022 list of prompts, but I may do the 2023 one in the future or if I just like one of the prompts better from that list. I also don't want to make any new OCs for this challenge, so if I take prompts from the 'design a new OC' part of the list, I'll just draw an existing one instead.

First up we have my oldest OC! Redmoon, also formerly known as Starclaw, is one of the first OCs I can remember ever making. She was a Clan leader (I think it might have been ForestClan or something simple like that) even though star was her suffix and not her prefix. I didn't care about that though.

I gave her quite the redesign here. I actually last drew her in 2022 I think under the name Redshimmer, though I think I like the name and theming of Redmoon more. I really like how her redesign came out, and I think I've improved with drawing cats as well. In the current day, I've thought about giving her a different role. Instead of being a Clan leader, I think she would have more of a priestess-turned-warrior role.

Not quite a medicine cat, but one who receives visions from StarClan or elsewhere and is forced into fighting and managing some kind of huge battle? I dunno, the idea is interesting. I think she would naturally be a kind cat who keeps to herself and just kinda hangs out in her temple or goes for nature walks, but finds herself forced into this role and pushed by her Clan into becoming stronger in ways she doesn't want to be. But nevertheless, she has to take control of the situation and stop it from plummeting into an all-out war.

[mortallyperfecttimemachine]

SO YOU WANNA build a greatsword, but you have no money and you is me?

Fret not... me, wood is kind of affordable. And I've seen it used for training swords before. And not being proficient in a required skill set has never stopped me before.

Follow along as this delusional woman attempts to build herself a sword.

The first thing any successful project needs is a plan. I know little about greatswords and next to nothing about how to wrangle wood into the shape of one, I need to do some research before I do anything else.

So, naturally, the first thing I did was spend money on materials.

I bought one 34 x 54 mm and one 24 x 74 mm beam of spruce, each 2 m long (If you prefer your measurements in freedom units, converters are free, I shan't risk making a mistake and spreading misinformation. Consider it payback for all the historical US-American sewing journals I had to sift through). I made sure that they had as few brown branch nubs (that's the professional term I believe), and as many rings as possible, because I half remember something about the latter making the wood more stable. Or it got folded metal vibes. Either or. Honestly my main objective was getting whatever's cheapest, and I left the hardware store only 14€ poorer, two of those having been spent on a sanding sponge to rid my steel swords of rust.

I confess, I did have a slight concept of what to do when I bought my beams. I intend to cut the blade and handle out of the 34x54, and slide the crossguard out of the 24x74 over the handle into place. I guess I'll secure the crossguard with a nail on each side and a wedge from below? Then I'll connect the pommel with a wood dowel and some glue and wrap the hilt in (faux) leather. Let's see whether that plan survives contact with the enemy (actually making the thing).

As for the measurements and the design of the sword itself: while looking for fighting manuals on the montante, I found a translation of Figueyredo's Memorial Of the Practice of the Montante by Myers and Hick, and they include a detailed description of a montante with measurements I assume they got from an authentic, historical relic. I've also had the pleasure of swinging a couple greatswords, and the one I enjoyed most by far was by Regenyei, although the specific sword I held was one of the first they ever made and different from their current design. Nevertheless, they foolishly list the measurements of their TH04 Montante on their website, for devious women like me to steal. Due to some fuckery I'll explain later, I guesstimated that the perfect length for me would be around 163 cm, and lo and behold: that's the exact length of the Regenyei TH03 Spadone, so I included that in my considerations as well. Here are their measurements in cm:

Now, some claim that the difference between an Italian spadone and a Spanish montante is size, the spadone being shorter on average. This is not true. The real difference is like, what kind of triangle the secondary guard is. Crocodile/alligator rules of how parallel/narrowing the blade is. Stuff that's negligible for this project. The misbelief comes from the fact that the spadone is a little older than the montante, and greatswords got longer over time, meaning that older spadone we still have are shorter than their spanish cousins who were created decades later. Newer spadone got longer as well.

Generally speaking, the ideal greatsword reaches from the floor to somewhere in your face. Chin to nose for earlier versions, nose to crown for later ones. Taller than you if you're a German Landsknecht with a 7 kg Schlachtschwert and something to prove. Swords on the shorter end are generally easier for beginners to use. Meaning it is time for a handy dandy me-to-sword comparison diagram:

This is where I got the 163 cm number from. I took one of my new woods and measured what height would be good for me. As I hope is obvious, to me the Myers & Hicks proposal is baby. Little tiny sword. Goodbye. The TH03 is literally the length I guesstimated before. Safe. Cute. A good practice length to get the hang of things.

However. As I held the 168 cm Monster of TH04 up to myself I experienced an emotion I hadn't felt since I discovered butches in armor. I kind of liked it. So, to keep myself rational and grounded, I decided to rely on my dear advisor and council:

The council has spoken. TH04 measurements it is.

Up next: I struggle with wood.

Current cost:

12€ for wood.

Take that beautiful 500€ Regenyei Montante which I crave not at all.