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silenzahra · 23 days ago

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⚡ An electrical aura ⚡

Ah, it feels so good to be back with a new story after so long! 😌

As I mentioned here, in this fic you will find one of my favorite topics to consume in any kind of fanwork:

✨⚡ Protective Luigi ⚡✨

I would've liked to post this story a couple of days ago to coincide with Mario and Luigi's birthday (even though the story has nothing to do with the date itself) as a way of celebrating their bond as brothers that we all love and adore so much 🥹💚❤️

Still, I'm glad I can share it now as this is one of the many fanfics I've been planning to write... for more than a year 😶

And at long last, here it is! 😄

@pepperycar @bberetd @vulpixfairy1985 @megamagimugi @roscolate

@peaches2217 @zocchini37 @itsavee4117 @keakruiser @multicolour-ink

@dragon-fly34 @eleventhhourfactor @stripetkattelalala54-gf @kelbreyworshipper @doodleydoo101

@c-lavanda @teegeeteegee and anyone else who might be interested: hope you enjoy! 💖

And as always: you can keep reading under the cut if you'd like! 👇

(Please remember that likes, comments, kudos, reblogs and any kind of feedback is always more than welcome 🥰)

⚡ An electrical aura ⚡

TW: Blood, violence (not too much though)

Luigi doesn't like being separated from his brother.

It was hard enough having to leave him behind when he got sick to go in search of the antidote. Luigi swallows as he remembers how scared he was when he saw Mario's skin turn green after consuming that strange mushroom and how his feet practically flew to the Mushroom Kingdom embassy, carrying his twin in his arms, to take him to the princess and try to get him help.

This time, however, at least Luigi has the comfort and relief of knowing that his brother is safe, even if he’s not at his side.

The moment they came across that first barred door, Luigi immediately understood that his twin wouldn’t have a chance to follow him, that he’d have to go on alone and that Mario would have to find his own way. Luigi gave him a glance full of consternation and, for a very brief moment, his brother returned exactly the same look. Before, of course, forcing himself to hide it so as not to show discouragement in front of his little brother and, instead, give him a reassuring grin.

Luigi smiles to himself as a pleasant tenderness spreads across his chest and warms his heart. That's his big brother: always ready to appear strong and confident to protect his younger sibling and not to worry him, all with the purpose of preventing Luigi’s anxiety from getting any worse.

Looking around, Luigi puts his hands to his chest in some sort of reflex action, trying to keep the warmth that the thought of his brother brings up inside him. For, not to his luck, everything around him is ice and more ice. Joke’s End is an inhospitable, deserted, cold place. It certainly serves its purpose of functioning as a kind of graveyard for jokes, for while the other places in the Beanbean Kingdom that he and Mario have visited had much more cheerful names and were also full of life, this place is far from the mainland and, except for the monsters and that strange blue girl with the scepter that has greeted them, it’s also the loneliest place in the entire kingdom.

Luigi hugs himself as he continues looking at his surroundings with a parched throat and a sense of dread growing inside him. He’s never felt so alone in his entire life.

He only hopes that this ordeal is about to end. He followed the path marked by the place itself, hit the necessary blocks and battled alone against various monsters, despite the insecurity produced by not having his twin with him so that they could perform their combined attacks.

Not to mention the several occasions on which he’s been able to see Mario through a barred door without either of them finding a way to bridge the distance between them. All those times, Luigi has clung to the bars as if he could make them disappear in his fingers so he could finally be reunited with his brother, and Mario hasn’t hesitated to approach him and place his hands on his twin’s, gazing at him affectionately while he gave him words of encouragement and, again, smiles filled with confidence.

“Soon we'll be together, Lu,” he assured him, and Luigi could practically touch the certainty that permeated every word his brother spoke. “We'll soon find a way, you'll see.”

Despite his anxiety and his many insecurities, Luigi has never doubted Mario. He always believes in his promises, unquestioningly, because he knows that his twin wouldn't tell him if he didn't truly believe in them and if he wasn't willing to do everything in his power to keep them.

And he always does. Mario has never, ever failed Luigi. Not once in their entire lives.

Therefore, Luigi trusts. He trusts Mario blindly, just as he has since the day they were born, and he’ll continue to trust him until the day he dies.

So that's what keeps him going: the certitude that Mario's words will come true sooner or later. The assurance that everything his brother tells him is as true as the sun will always rise at the end of the darkest night and the light will shine again. Just as bright as Mario’s smile.

This time, whether they manage to reunite depends on a strange puzzle that, once again, they must solve by working together, even though they’re physically separated. This is not the first time, of course: when they’ve seen each other through barred doors, it’s been because they had to hit twin blocks in unison in order to activate different mechanisms, and there have even been times when they haven’t been able to see one another but have felt each other's presence through the thick walls of ice that make up Joke’s End.

As Luigi hits this last block, he hears a sound coming from outside. Both he and Mario have just crossed walkways that ran parallel to each other and converged at two different doors in the building, and they’ve helped each other to move forward until they’ve reached, at least in Luigi's case, a dead-end room. After hitting the block, Luigi retraces his steps towards the walkway he has just crossed and discovers that a frozen bridge has emerged between the two.

“Yes!”

Luigi can't and won't hold back the squeal of relief and excitement that bubbles up from his throat. Without wasting any time, he runs across the footbridge to cross to the other side and begins to follow the path that Mario must have taken. He wonders if he’ll bump into his sibling, if he too has started running, if he’s as eager as Luigi is to hold him in his arms. The smile on the younger plumber’s face widens, for he’s sure that Mario feels the same way. He’s about to join his big brother in a tight embrace, and this time, he won’t let Mario get away from him again.

Then, as he climbs up some latticed platforms, a high-pitched scream rings in his ears and is suddenly cut off.

Due to the surprise, Luigi almost stops in his tracks as he feels how the air escapes from his lungs and an icy fist grips his heart. And it has nothing to do with the cold prevailing in the place.

It only takes him a moment, however, to resume running, giving his legs more speed.

“Mario!”

He leaps over some ice blocks and manages to reach the next room. He skids across the ice when he realizes that he’s at a high location and that, to his right and left, there are two sets of steps leading down to the bottom of the room.

And down there, right in the middle, is Mario.

The blood runs cold in Luigi's veins as he discovers his brother lying on the ground, completely motionless, with traces of dirt on his clothes and a red stain crowning his forehead, his hat fallen just short of his head. With a horrified gasp, Luigi doesn't give it a second thought: he runs to the edge of the step, bends down and jumps, landing in a crouch a short distance from where Mario lays. He moves practically on all fours towards his twin, his heart pounding in his chest and his eyes so wide that he thinks they'll end up popping out of their sockets.

“Mario,” he mumbles in a nervous whisper.

He carefully places a hand under Mario's head and slowly lifts him up as he slides his knees under his body to try to give him some comfort. He pulls him closer as he continues to whisper his name, but his brother does not respond. There’s blood on his neck and one of his knees, Luigi notices. Feeling the anguish growing inside him, he examines the crimson stain on Mario's forehead, as it seems to be the most serious wound. His white glove is immediately covered in red. Wheezing, Luigi raises his hand in front of his face and stares at it, blinking in awe, as if his brain is having trouble processing what his eyes are seeing.

Mario's blood coats Luigi’s fingers.

The distress that floods him begins to transform, little by little, into something different. Something that causes small sparks of electricity to sizzle around him.

It is then that he becomes aware of their presence.

Luigi blinks a little to focus his eyes, as they’re blurry, he doesn't know why, and lowers his hand without any haste. He places it protectively on Mario's chest, which, fortunately, rises and falls, evidence that he continues to breathe, albeit slowly and heavily. Luigi pulls him a little closer to himself, his hand still holding his twin's head with extreme care. His breathing is getting more and more arduous and laborious, and his cheeks are getting wet, but he’s not even aware of it.

In front of him stand three of the many monsters that plague the place. Luigi has faced several of them before, both alone and in the company of his brother, so he recognizes them immediately. A Glurp, which spews toxic clouds that have on occasion poisoned him or Mario, causing his sibling to be extremely grateful for Luigi's efforts to carry extra Refreshing Herbs in their luggage. An Ice Snifit, whose spiky chunks of ice have frozen his soul and against which only his brother's Firebrand has been effective enough to eradicate its effects.

And lastly... a Clumph.

His green skin makes Luigi think of a nurse’s uniform. His purple hair reminds him of a bunch of grapes.

And finally... that huge club that he carries everywhere.

In all likelihood, this Clumph is the main reason why his big brother is lying unconscious in his arms.

Out of pure instinct, Luigi squeezes Mario a little tighter as his brow furrows. How dare that damned Clumph hurt his twin in such a way. How dare he stand there, in front of him, carrying his club on his shoulder as if he hadn't just dealt it with all his might on Mario's forehead. How dare he give him that goofy look with which he pretends to be completely innocent.

How dare he.

“How dare you,” Luigi mumbles without even being aware of it.

The particles of electricity around Luigi have increased in intensity and power. His breathing has accelerated so much that snorts escape from his mouth, and the hair on his arms has bristled under his green shirt. The plumber hears the roar of thunder, but he can’t tell where it comes from. He does take a glimpse of a glow that illuminates the place green, though. Without taking his eyes off the Clumph, Luigi reaches an arm over Mario to grab his brother’s hat and places it under his twin’s head as he lays him extremely gently on the ground. Then, taking his time, he stands up. His enemies don't miss his every move either, the Ice Snifit and Glurp ready to attack.

Luigi, however, is not going to give them the slightest chance.

His veins burn so much that he feels like he's going to explode at any moment. Rage has invaded every inch of his body and is spreading through his nerve endings like a thunderstorm that threatens to burst and destroy him in the process.

Luigi is more than willing to let it out.

He can't remember ever feeling this way, either before or after acquiring his Thunderhand, but he's not going to hold back. These enemies dared to touch his brother. They dared to attack him when Luigi was finally on his way to reunite with him. They dared to inflict Mario a wound that has robbed him of consciousness. They dared to spill his blood.

It will be the last thing they will do in their lives.

Anger controls his every move when Luigi unhurriedly steps over Mario's body and walks heavily towards his rivals, as if he were nothing more than a puppet in the hands of the strongest wrath. Although they try to look determined and ready to fight, the monsters sense the aura that surrounds Luigi, the aura of someone who is willing to do anything to get revenge, the aura of someone who will stop at nothing to protect what is most precious to him in the world.

An electrical aura that brings thunder at lightning in its wake.

As he walks, Luigi clenches his fists at his sides and rebellious sparks escape from them. He feels that both his mustache and his hair under his hat have bristled, and his cheeks are now so dampened that he feels them cold, but he doesn't care. He continues to move, his breathing harsh and uneasy, his heart pounding in his chest, and he feels an unexpected surge of satisfaction sweep over him when he realizes that his enemies, cornered, have bumped into the icy wall of the building surrounding them.

They have no escape.

Luigi's fury, on the other hand, does.

Growling under his breath, the plumber closes his eyes and allows the energy pulsing in his veins to take complete control.

His arms rise up, his palms pointing towards his enemies. Electricity courses through his body, surging from deep within him and rushing to his hands. Against all odds, a sense of warm calm invades Luigi as he feels his electric magic dance up and down, flooding every inch of his body, reaching every corner of his essence and causing a fleeting smile to play across his lips.

He has never felt so powerful.

Before the first streak bursts from Luigi's fingertips, his eyelids part, but there’s no trace of pupil in his gaze.

There’s only room for electricity.

Luigi's eyes are entirely white as his power begins, at last, to be released. Jets of light, sometimes blue, sometimes green, emerge from his hands, lethal, deadly, and it takes Luigi a moment to realize that he’s begun to emit a low snarl that, gradually, turns into a scream with which he frees all the emotions that boil inside him. The fear of losing his brother. The rage for what they’ve done to him. The thirst for revenge, which had never before blinded him so much.

In fact, Luigi realizes that everything he sees is white. An immaculate white, dotted with sizzling green and blue flashes, which prevent him from checking what his magic is doing, what his hands are causing. Nor is he able to perceive any sound, as if his ears were underwater, in a completely silent limbo that has cut him off from the outside world.

However, he quickly decides that he doesn't care. He doesn't care, because he feels invincible. He’s filled with fierce drive that fuels his power and begs him to go on, to not stop, to continue giving it free rein. The euphoria of the moment is so strong that it becomes addictive, something Luigi clings to with all his might.

It's all for his brother.

Mario deserves that and more. Mario deserves the whole world.

Despite Luigi’s blindness, which, he hopes, is temporary, the image of his twin appears clearly in front of him. His beloved Mario, always so cheerful and smiling, always ready to fight for those he loves, always ready for battle. Always determined to protect Luigi and spare him all harm, but also full of unshakable faith in his little sibling.

A faith that has always been Luigi's driving force throughout his entire life.

If it were not for Mario, Luigi simply wouldn’t believe in himself. If it were not for Mario, Luigi wouldn’t have learned to fight, both for himself and for those he loves. If it were not for Mario, Luigi would not be who he is today.

If it weren't for Mario, Luigi wouldn't be here right now.

So he's not going to give up. He’ll continue to defend his brother the same way Mario has always defended him. He won't let those damn monsters get close to his sibling again. He won't let them get a chance to hurt him again.

He won't let them get away with it.

However, as he unleashes all his power and his unstoppable energy travels through his body and gushes from his hands, Luigi empties himself. He empties himself of the fear of losing Mario forever. He empties himself of all his anger, of all his resentment against the beings who have dared to harm his twin. He empties himself of all his thirst for revenge.

And he empties himself, also, of his electric magic.

Which carries with it a great part of his vitality.

Luigi blinks several times as the sparks around his vision begin to dim and the blinding white gradually fades. Before he can see anything, however, he notices his knees hit the icy ground, his legs unable to support him, and he begins to become aware of the noisy panting he’s emitting. He closes his eyes again and squeezes his eyelids tightly shut as he brings a hand to his chest in an attempt to calm his racing heart and regulate his rapid breathing. His entire body trembles violently, and he continues to see sparks, only, this time, there’s no trace of those green and blue flashes in them. All he sees is blackness and darkness.

A darkness so enveloping that it threatens to drag him into the deepest and most absolute unconsciousness.

Despite his exhaustion, Luigi can’t afford to faint now. This is no time to rest. He has to check what has happened while he was in that kind of electric trance, what has become of his enemies. He has to check in on Mario.

His brother needs him.

But the darkness is so tempting... What if he only lets himself be dragged along for a moment? Just enough to rest and regain his strength. Besides, his eyes are already closed. What's the difference if—?

“Lu?”

Luigi's eyelids flutter open as he lifts his head with a jerk. He only takes a moment to gaze at the frozen wall in front of him, empty, which makes him imagine that the monsters must have fled, frightened by the fierceness of his power.

But that’s not important now.

His head turns at lightning speed as he compels his exhausted limbs to move. In the midst of his wheezing, a wide grin blooms on his face as his eyes meet another pair, of the same limpid blue, gazing up at him in awe.

“Mario!” he exclaims.

Not wanting to waste any time, he propels himself onto the icy ground to stand up, only to drop to his knees again two seconds later, this time next to Mario. His brother watches him with half-opened eyes and a tired smile glistening on his lips as well. Luigi places a hand in his sibling’s hair, careful not to touch his wound so as not to hurt him more, and his heart fills with joy as he notices how his twin reaches for his hand.

When their fingers intertwine, they join with a force more sweeping than that of a hurricane and more intense than that of the most devastating thunderstorm.

“How are you feeling?”

“Was it you?”

The brothers share a few knowing laughs when they realize that they’ve spoken at the same time. They look at each other fondly, amused, and Luigi, feeling his heart calm at last, gladly gives the floor to his twin.

“I'm a little dizzy,” Mario confesses, his voice a faint murmur. “It hurts...”

He attempts to bring his free hand to his forehead, but Luigi gently restrains him.

“Don't touch it,” he asks, concerned. “You’re wounded, but I'm sure this will help.”

He begins to rummage in his pockets without letting go of his brother's fingers. He doesn't notice that his twin can’t take his eyes off him.

“Was it you, Luigi?” he asks again.

“What do you mean?” Luigi asks, pulling the fabric of his right pocket to try to get a glimpse of its contents.

“The electric shock,” says Mario. “I woke up and saw... Lightning bolts. Electricity. Blue... Green. And... I heard thunder.”

Luigi notices that his brother struggles to speak. Stressed, he begins to rummage in the chest pocket of his overalls, ignoring the fact that he feels exhausted too. Where the heck did he put them?

“Luigi.”

His twin's voice, tinged with a certain urgency, as well as the squeeze he gives his hand, cause Luigi to finally look up. He’s speechless when he notices the fixed, penetrating glance, bursting with curiosity, that Mario is giving him. He can’t help but be slightly startled and even blush, and immediately resumes his search.

“I-I don't know what happened,” he mumbles nervously, and he’s not lying.

“Lu, did you...?” Mario takes a few seconds to ask his question. “Did you just unleash a thunderstorm?”

As his fingers finally grab the 1-UP Super he was looking for, Luigi closes his eyes for a moment and takes a deep breath.

The truth is that he has no idea what just happened. He only knows that several emotions swirled inside him the moment he saw Mario's blood staining his glove red, and that he experienced them in a more overwhelming and powerful way than ever before. He’s never felt that fire in his chest, that tingling in his arms, that sensation of being unstoppable that has taken over his soul and has demanded to gush from his hands with more force than ever.

Luigi had no clue he was capable of such a thing.

“Lu?”

Mario's voice urges him to open his eyes again. His heart shrinks in his chest as soon as he notices the lingering worry in his brother's eyes, not yet completely lucid, but enough to be worried by his silence. Luigi tries to smile and shrugs as he holds out the mushroom.

“It's nothing,” he assures his twin. “I'm fine, but you're not. Eat this.”

“Luigi.” Mario lifts his other hand to push away the shroom. “Tell me what happened. Please. What did I see?”

Luigi will never cease to be amazed that his brother, even with a bleeding wound on his forehead, can still display his innate strength. He knows Mario too well to know that he will never give up, that he’d still want to talk to him about what happened even if he were on the verge of unconsciousness. So, defeated, Luigi offers him a deal.

“Eat this,” he repeats, “and we’ll talk about it.”

Fortunately, his suggestion seems to appease Mario. After watching him for a few seconds, his brother eventually lowers his hand and allows Luigi to give him the 1-UP Super. Luigi knows how much his sibling dislikes the taste of mushrooms, but by now Mario has learned to tolerate it: he closes his eyes and swallows them almost all at once, and always lets out a little whimper of protest that warms Luigi's heart. Mario may be his older brother, he may be the bravest and most capable person he knows, he may have always protected him since they were little, but in some ways he still reminds him of a child.

And yet Luigi admires his sibling for being able to eat something he doesn't like. He struggles every time.

Within seconds, Mario's wound begins to heal. Luigi watches, dumbfounded, as the blood recedes and the skin practically regenerates, eliciting a small grunt from Mario that causes Luigi to squeeze his hand and stroke his hair in an attempt to comfort him. His brother purses his lips as he squeezes back, and Luigi smiles as he witnesses Mario trying to contain the pain and not show himself vulnerable despite the fact that, here and now, it's just the two of them.

To Mario's relief, the shroom soon completes its magic. With his forehead completely healed, Mario opens his eyes, once again glowing with his distinctive energy and vitality, and rests them on his twin. Luigi, however, is so relieved to finally see his older brother safe and sound that, as soon as he begins to sit up, Luigi throws his arms around Mario’s neck.

He doesn't even realize that he’s started to cry until he tries to speak and the lump in his throat prevents him from doing so.

Mario's laughter is like a balm that warms his heart. His brother laughs fondly and puts an arm around Luigi while he raises his other hand to pat him affectionately on his head. Still hugging him, Luigi smiles, and a strangled chuckle escapes his system as he swallows to try to quiet his crying.

“It's good to see you too, little brother,” Mario whispers.

He presses his cheek against Luigi's and Luigi closes his eyes, his heart fluttering in his chest. There's no telling where his smile ends and Mario's begins. He could stay like this forever, clinging to his sibling and feeling his twin's arms around him, providing him with a warmth more intense and comforting than that of the most blazing fire as they protect each other from any evil coming from the outside world.

Luigi needs nothing else to live.

After a few seconds, Luigi notices that his brother tries to pull apart from him to look him in the eye, but the younger plumber finds himself unable to stand up straight. His whole body feels strangely limp, as if it didn’t belong to him, and it’s impossible for him to do something as simple as opening his eyes.

Luigi then realizes that the fatigue caused by the force with which his electric magic has emerged from his body is causing the upper part of his body to slip to Joke’s End’s cold, icy floor, as both him and Mario are still on his knees, and he finds himself unable to break his fall. Mario's voice, full of alarm at his little brother’s condition, reaches Luigi’s ears muffled, and he just can’t make out his twin’s words. He does feel how Mario holds him tightly with one arm, trying to ground him, and Luigi finds himself clinging to him with what little strength he has left in his body. He rests his head on his twin's shoulder while he closes his eyelids, just for an instant, to rest for five minutes, nothing more.

For this reason he’s unable to resist when he notices that Mario brings something to his lips. Without hesitating, Luigi opens his mouth and allows his brother to give him what the green clad plumber immediately distinguishes as a 1-UP Super. He’s barely swallowed it when he begins to feel its effects: a small spark of energy springs up in his heart and starts to spread through his body in slow but intense waves, finally giving him back the vitality that the magnitude of his power had taken from him. Soon he’s aware of how Mario's arms support him while, in Italian, his brother whispers soft words of encouragement, waiting for the shroom to take effect with the little patience that Luigi knows his sibling has, but which he always displays when it comes to him.

Luigi lets out a small moan as he regains control of his body, holding on to Mario's shoulders to slowly sit up. He immediately hears his twin greet him as if he had just woken up, which, in fact, is not far from the truth.

“Hey,” Mario says softly, his tone full of gentleness. “Can you hear me, Lu? How are you feeling?”

Luigi notices Mario's fingers cupping his cheek and can practically feel the concern that tinges his voice. Still clinging to his twin's shoulders, Luigi hastens to smile, looking at him, and nods, wishing he could wipe all traces of worry from Mario's blue eyes in one fell swoop.

“I feel wonderful,” he declares.

His tone must be more convincing than he thought, because, in front of him, Mario's face begins to calm down: his frown relaxes, his eyes recover their usual spark, and a smile blooms on his lips that mirrors Luigi's, as if his brother were an earthly representation of the sun and he, the moon that feeds on his glow.

“Thank goodness,” Mario replies, giving him a gentle pat on the back.

Both his voice and his face are brimming with relief. Luigi instinctively closes his eyes the instant he notices how his twin begins to tilt his head towards him. Warmness bursts in his chest as his forehead meets his brother's, and the smile that spreads across his face at the contact is wide, serene and placid. Despite the ice that surrounds them, despite the coldness that reigns in the place where they are, far from any trace of civilization, Luigi could almost swear that never before, in all his life, has he felt more wrapped up in the warmth provided by the mere presence of his older brother.

When, seconds later, the twins separate, they give each other wide and calm smiles, both filled with joy at being together again. Mario's expression, though, gradually turns into one full of curiosity.

“So...” he says before patting Luigi's back again. “It was a thunderstorm, right?”

Luigi can't help but cringe a little. How is he going to tell Mario about something he doesn't even know how it happened? In fact... should he? What if his brother starts to see him in a different light? What if...?

What if Mario stops loving him?

“W-well...”

He doesn't realize that he's started to fiddle with his hands, as he usually does whenever he's nervous, until he feels Mario's palm, warm and pleasant, resting on his fingers before gently squeezing them. Raising his head, Luigi meets the equally sweet and affectionate gaze of his brother, radiant with all the love he feels for him.

The sight is more than enough to soothe Luigi’s racing thoughts.

“Lulu,” Mario says, still smiling, “you don’t have to be ashamed. What you did was amazing!” he exclaims, chuckling smoothly as his eyes sparkle with excitement. “You unleashed a thunderstorm all by yourself, little brother. Do you realize how incredibly powerful you are?”

Luigi stares at him in silence for a few seconds, trying to process the reality of his twin's words.

Or, he corrects himself, trying to process the fact that Mario doesn't seem at all horrified by what his younger sibling just did.

“In fact,” Mario continues before Luigi manages to come up with a response, “you're so powerful, Luigi, that not only did you get me to wake up even though I had just been hit in my head, but you made the monsters run away. Or at least,” he adds as he looks to and fro, “I don't see them anywhere.”

Looking at Luigi again, Mario winks at him as he holds both of his brother's hands in his, Luigi's fingers resting on his left palm while his right continues to tap him lightly. Luigi blinks slowly and closes his mouth at last, for he wasn't even aware of having it wide open. A shy smile begins to bloom on his lips.

“They fled like cowards in the face of the bravery and courage of my mighty little brother,” Mario then says, imprinting his voice with a proud tone that causes Luigi's smile to widen and his cheeks to start burning. “Do you hear me, monsters?” Mario suddenly shouts, turning again to one side and the other, and grabs Luigi's wrist with his right hand to raise his younger sibling’s arm in the air. “Don't even think of coming closer if you don't want to suffer the wrath of the Green Thunder!”

Luigi can't contain the laughter that escapes from the depths of his soul at the nickname his brother has just bestowed upon him, as well as his enthusiasm when boasting about him and the vigor with which he shakes Luigi’s arm. Luigi doubts that any monster is going to be scared by that, but, maybe, just maybe, what he just did is not... bad. Maybe his power has gotten out of his control, but, after all, he hasn't caused any harm.

And, besides, he’s achieved his purpose: to keep those monsters away from his big brother and prevent them from ever having a chance to harm him again.

When his laughter starts to fade, he notices that Mario was laughing too. Now he looks at Luigi with eyes sparkling with affection, and the younger plumber returns a radiant smile that he hopes will convey the same feeling to his brother. Seizing the fact that he’s still holding him by one hand, Mario begins to pull him up and they both stand up at the same time. Mario, however, doesn’t let go.

“Thank you for protecting me, Lu,” he says heartily, giving his fingers a little squeeze.

Luigi can't help blushing and massages the back of his neck with his other hand.

“You always protect me,” he replies, shrugging, “and besides, I don't even know what I did...”

“What do you mean?” Mario sounds both intrigued and confused.

“W-well...” Luigi takes a few seconds to try to find the right words. “I don't know what happened, Mario,” he declares, looking him in the eyes. “I just know that I saw you lying there, and you were bleeding, and...” He sighs, looking away again. “My Thunderhand took control. I didn't even know it was capable of creating a thunderstorm,” he admits, dejected.

Luigi drops his shoulders and massages his arm with his free hand. Mario still holds his other hand, but Luigi senses that it's only a matter of time before his brother lets go and walks away. Surely he doesn't admire him so much anymore. Surely he doesn't see him in the same way anymore. Surely...

“Then,” Mario's voice interrupts the torrent of his thoughts, and a new squeeze on his fingers causes Luigi to turn to him once more. Mario's warm smile disarms him completely. “Maybe we can find a way together that you can do this while maintaining control.”

At first, Luigi isn't sure he fully understands what his twin is referring to. It takes a while for his brain to register what his twin means: that Luigi should learn how to be in control in case he needs, or wants to, create another thunderstorm in the future.

It hadn't occurred to him that there might be a way.

“You’ll see how they will call you Green Thunder then,” Mario adds, amused, and gives him a gentle punch on the shoulder.

Luigi chuckles at his joke, and an idea suddenly comes to his mind.

“Do you think you could do something like that with your Firebrand too?” he asks, curious.

This time it's Mario who stares at him dumbfounded.

“Well... I hadn’t thought about it,” he admits, putting his hand to his chin and tapping his finger pensively.

“Then that’s one more thing we have to research,” Luigi suggests, suddenly filled with a determination that only Mario could have infected him with. “What do you think, big bro?”

“Fair enough, little bro” nods his sibling, giving him another wink.

With no need for words, the two break contact in unison, only to raise their arms and high five. Luigi laughs, feeling not only relieved that Mario still loves him the same way, but pleased that they’re going to further investigate both his electrical power and his twin's igneous magic. He hopes to come up with an appropriate nickname for Mario and his Firebrand in the process.

“I guess we'll have to get out of here first,” Mario adds jokingly. “Let’s-a go!”

“Okie-dokie!”

And, together again, they set off.

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prommytheus · 1 year ago

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i love apollo and i love his ominous implying that he’s going to take advantage of his sick leave go do something deeply illegal to solve (and avenge) clay’s murder, but the way that got executed ingame was that he didn’t do anything. they. they cut off his plot thread entirely. because they needed to write him out so that nick could take the spotlight. even though it’s apollo’s trilogy. “it’s your story now apollo” MY ASS jkaksjdkjd

i think phoenix returning to law is fun and has a lot of potential, im very fond of his cute lil suit and his dlc case. but the final case? the final fucking case??? phoenix should have just weirdgirled. or better yet- peaced out of the main plot to go on a rage fueled excursion to the space center to FUCKING KILL AURA for holding his fucking daughter hostage. also miles im glad you’re back but wh. why are you prosecuting this case. why would aura choose you of all people. how much do you know anyway

….i dont really have a closing argument for this. i guess my point is that i fucking love aa5 because it introduces so many cool concepts, characters, and plot threads—

—and i also fucking hate aa5 because it drops all of them without hesitation to put those red and blue fuckers back behind the benches and then kill a man for shock value.

#i can do both #ace attorney #aa5 #ace attorney dual destinies #dual destinies spoilers #turnabout for tomorrow #dual destinies #ace attorney 5 #i WOULD write a fix it fic but i cant write so i wont #aura blackquill #apollo justice #also btw no extreme aa5 hate in the tags please. i do like this game a lot kskdksjd

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dashing-through-ecto · 1 year ago

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@five-rivers your fic Forced Fruit has nestled into my brain in the best way possible.

#danny phantom #dashing-art #unfinished art #some skatches I've made a while ago when I finished the fic.#The concept of dannys aura wings is so intreaging #vibrating in my boots and waiting for the next part.#I want to see danny go through all his changes and emotional trauma #now I want to reread the fic and draw more sknfikusjhnvcboiwsuhg

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sunspearesque · 9 months ago

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Forbidden Fervor

Summary: Douse the fervor raging within, bestow upon me the forbidden release, frigid and honed, dripping with crimson... Let it carve through my dread as relentlessly as time erodes the vigor from an aged soul.

A/N: yo, idk what happened here.. i saw the inspo and we dove headfirst. i’m so very sure old man nasty spirit possessed me or something cause idk how i wrote this.. but yeah enjoy the filth i guess? lmfao.. also, i did use some of the famous lines from the show/books—specifically the scene where he stabby stab the pink little man at the brothel just because :3 the rest tho are the whispers of my little brain hehehoho

Pairing: Oberyn Martell × OFC from WoV

Rating: E (18+ only)

Content: established relationship (marriage); canonical racism (against dornish people); threat of assault (nothing happens); we hate Lannisters in this house; protective!Oberyn; depiction of injury/attack; use of weapons (dagger); Wet and Wanting™️; primal urges, kinda sorta; a hint of possessive!Oberyn; inappropriate use of weapons; dagger riding (don’t look at me); unprotected p in v; creampie (the man has a breeding kink what can i say?); quoting mr. darcy

WC: 1.9K

Read on AO3 • moodboard

A grand retinue accompanied Prince Oberyn Martell and his wife Nala on their journey north to attend the wedding of Lord Stark's eldest son. The journey was replete with delightful surprises and, regrettably, some less pleasant ones. One of their travel days found them lodged in an inn nestled amidst the forested lands of the North. The weather was cold and crisp, the air dry and biting, causing Oberyn to grumble about the layers of clothing encasing his form. Nala found his discomfort amusing—this man is averse to decency.

As they were enjoying their meal in the inn, a trio of golden-haired men strode in, their disdainful expressions evident as they cast disparaging glances at the other patrons. Murmuring curses under their breath, they took a seat at a nearby table, much to the discomfort of those around them. Nala sensed the tension in the air, recognizing the unmistakable look of Lannisters. She knew all too well her husband's scorn for them. Desperate to diffuse the situation, she attempted to divert his attention away from them, whispering softly, “My love, look at me,” noticing his gaze fixed upon them with obvious contempt.

The Lannister men, oblivious to her attempt to diffuse the tension, noticed her caress on his thigh and exchanged mocking remarks amongst themselves. “Why does such beauty consort with that Dornish bastard?” one of them jeered, his laughter echoing loudly in the room. “This whore should try to get with a real cock... a Lannister one,” another added, patting his bulge and leering at her. “Just give him a shaved goat and an olive oil bottle and be done with it,” the third chimed in before all three joined in uproarious laughter.

Nala could feel the blood charring beneath her skin, her heart pounding in her ribcage as she dreaded her husband's reaction to the insults. She observed the vein running through his neck pulsating beneath his golden skin, indicating the rage boiling within him. Despite his efforts to conceal it, a smirk tinged with bitterness adorned his face, masking the fury that simmered beneath the surface.

With graceful poise, he rose from his seat, his hand drifting toward the dagger secured at his hip—a weapon fashioned in the likeness of two intertwined vipers; its smooth, golden surface gleaming in the dim light of the inn. Slowly and deliberately, he approached their table, his gaze locking onto the perpetrator who had called his wife a whore.

Oberyn's tongue clicked disapprovingly as he addressed the men, his tone dripping with mockery. “Do you know why the world despises a Lannister?” he quipped, his words laden with scorn. “You believe your wealth, your lions, and your gilded pride make you superior to all.” The Lannister men exchanged smug glances, sharing a condescending chuckle amongst themselves. One of the trio stealthily reached for his sword, attempting to draw it from its sheath without detection. Yet, unbeknownst to them, he noticed—he always does.

“May I tell you a secret?” Oberyn continued, his voice carrying a hint of amusement. “You're not a golden lion. You're just a pink little man who is far too slow on the draw.” With a swift motion, he unsheathed his dagger and plunged it into the hand of the man who had insulted his wife, the same hand he had earlier used to pat his cock. Piercing between the carpals of that hand, it now lay on the table. The man let out a guttural wail, paralyzed in his place as the dagger twisted amidst flesh, bone, and veins.

“When I pull my blade, your friend starts bleeding,” Oberyn stated calmly, a smirk playing on his lips. “Quite a lot, I'm afraid. So many veins in the wrist.” He observed the man writhing in pain before turning his gaze back to the other Lannister. “He'll live if you get him help straight away,” he added mockingly, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Decisions,” Oberyn remarked, his head tilting slightly as his gaze shifted to the bleeding man again. “And when you speak of a dornish princess—my wife—you will address her as ‘your highness,’” he continued, his tone carrying a dangerous edge. “Lest you wish for me to sever your tongue at its root.”

He withdrew his dagger from the man’s hand, the Dornish soldiers surrounding him, swords and spears at the ready. One of them addressed him, “What shall we do with them, Your Highness?”

“Nothing,” Oberyn replied calmly, wiping the blood from his dagger with the end of his shawl. "I reckon they've learned a lesson or two about manners from the Dornish, and I expect they'll find their own way out.” With a dismissive wave, he turned to walk toward Nala, who stood frozen with fear, wide-eyed, and breathing shakily.

“Apologies, my love,” he said tenderly, encircling his arms around her waist and pressing a soft kiss to her lips. Nestling her gently in his embrace, as though she were the most delicate of blossoms.

Ever the viper; deadly, dangerous, unpredictable... and mine.

A familiar primal heat stirred within her, much to her chagrin as she cursed herself for succumbing to it.

Gods be good, this shouldn’t ignite a fire within me and make me crave him and the dagger he wielded in my defense.

She kissed him with fervor, her hands caressing his face, yearning to melt into him and merge with him completely. As they parted, both breathless, he chuckled softly. "I see you enjoyed that, princess?" he whispered, prompting a blush to bloom across her cheeks—was I too obvious?

He pulled out the chair for her to resume her place at the table, a gallant gesture amidst the chaos caused by the departing Lannisters, who left mutilated and humiliated.

Throughout the meal, Nala’s gaze remained fixed on Oberyn, her desire for him evident in her unwavering stare. Yet, her eyes also flickered occasionally to the dagger sheathed at his side, her longing palpable. Catching her subtle glances, Oberyn couldn't help but tease her with a smirk. “My love, you are eyeing that dagger as if it were your lover,” he quipped, his tone playful and suggestive.

She regarded him incredulously, her expression stern, before a laugh escaped her lips, unable to resist his irreverence. “What? People engage in all forms of pleasure,” he remarked casually, a hint of mischief in his tone. “I’d be curious to witness you attempting one of these forms, my love,” he added, raising an eyebrow, his smirk unyielding—the infamous smirk that both infuriated and delighted her.

“How in the Seven Hells would I engage in such forms, Oberyn?" she retorted, her tone a blend of amusement and exasperation, unsure whether to marvel at his wit or roll her eyes at his audacity.

He chuckled, unfazed, and resumed his meal, prompting her to shake her head in bemusement before following suit, both indulging in their food as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred.

—

As they retired to their chambers, the earlier unpleasant encounter and their playful banter lingered in her mind, unable to shake off the eagerness she felt for him.

Not surprisingly, he seemed equally consumed by their earlier conversation. Upon entering their room and securing the door behind them, he immediately closed the distance between them, kissing her hungrily. His hands roamed over her body, gripping her ass firmly, igniting a fire within her and causing desire to pool between her thighs.

Breaking away from their passionate embrace, he strode to the bed and plunged his dagger into the mattress, securing it firmly in place. Only the gleaming, serpent-shaped handle remained visible.

"What... what are you doing?" Nala inquired, perplexed by his actions.

“I long to see you mount it," he declared simply, taking a seat on the wooden chair facing the bed.

"Mount it how?" she questioned, furrowing her brow in confusion.

"Like you mount my cock every night," he replied with a crooked smile.

She stood in stunned silence, her thoughts swirling with a mixture of surprise and anticipation. The unexpected request from her husband both startled her and ignited a flicker of excitement deep within her. It was not uncommon for him to embrace unconventional pleasures, to seek out new experiences in their intimate moments together.

She offered a gentle smile before beginning to shed her dress, letting the fabric cascade down her form like water, revealing the delicate curve of her clavicle, the supple swell of her breasts and their hardened peaks, her glistening cunt between her thighs, before finally pooling at her feet.

His gaze lingered upon her with a hunger that seemed to devour her, as if he yearned to possess this beauty solely for himself, to adore… to pleasure and treasure... wholly and entirely his.

She moved with grace toward the bed, settling and facing him, her eyes fixed on the dagger embedded in the mattress before her. It was the very same dagger he wielded to protect her, a silent warning to any who dared to show her disrespect.

She lifted herself slightly before sinking into it, feeling the cold metal filling her searing flesh. Her eyes closed, lips parting as she relished the peculiar sensation, the ridges of the handle gliding against her inner walls, deliciously. It was unfamiliar yet pleasing, strangely fitting. She quickened her pace, with each rise and fall, soft moans escaping her lips and filling the room. Her breasts bounced with each movement, a testament to the pleasure coursing through her.

Oberyn watched her with an insatiable hunger, enchanted by her allure. She accepted his offerings eagerly, with devotion, her yearning unwavering as she sought to be filled with everything that was his. Whether his fingers, his cock, or even his dagger, she embraced it all, an extension of him in every way.

He felt the bulge in his breeches grow bigger, his cock throbbing painfully with desire, yearning to pierce that sweet cunt of hers, to fill her with his seed over and over again til it takes. He longed to hear her soft moans as he pushed her to the brink of bliss, feeling her warm, wet, and wanting in his embrace.

He freed his hardened cock, his hand beginning to caress it with slow, deliberate strokes, as she mounted his dagger with unyielding ardor, deriving her pleasure from it. Her gaze met his, lethal and luring, eyes that could have felled him had she not been his.

Her movements became erratic, her moans blending into strained whimpers. She slipped her hand down frantically to circle her soaked clit, driving her closer to her release. Collapsing onto the mattress, she murmured his name, her thighs trembling with pleasure.

Rising from his seat, he approached her, cradled her languid form, and moved her to the center of the bed, laying her on her back. He spread her thighs apart, watching her clenching sex seep her release, delicately. He nudged the head of his cock to her entrance. Her cunt sucked him in effortlessly, eliciting a soft whine from her lips as he filled her. He laid atop her, his weight offering a comforting warmth she had always longed for, drawing her closer to him before thrusting into her fervently.

Mine, my love, mine… all fucking mine, the Others take them all.

He nipped at the tender flesh of her breasts and shoulder, his warmth flooding her as he spilled his cum deep within her, his breath ragged.

After their heaving chests stilled, she gently raised her hand to brush the damp curls from his forehead, meeting his gaze. “I love you most ardently, my fierce viper,” she whispered.

#asoiaf #oberyn martell #oberyn martell fanfiction #pedrostories #a song of ice and fire #game of thrones #oberyn nymeros martell #oberyn martell x ofc #oberyn martell smut #house martell #dorne #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fan fic #fan fiction #aura’s fics

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moldycigarette · 2 months ago

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warnings: 🪦🕊️ DNE, angst, implied assault towards reader, use of y/n, afab, protective simon, talk of torture, talk of blood, fluff at the end, i’m sincerely sorry

—————

being married to simon has both perks and downsides. don’t get me wrong, simon is the exact opposite of “ghost” when he’s not at work and makes sure it stays that way, especially around you. he’s nurturing, funny, kind, loving, loyal, and puts you before himself even when you tell him not to.

sure, he can be a stubborn bastard sometimes but he knows how to make it up to you.

in the beginning of your relationship, it was difficult for him to open up, and understandably so given his past. he was cold and distant, sometimes to the point where you questioned if he even wanted to be with you. however, he made up for it. he became more relaxed with you, starting to accept more than just the occasional kiss on the cheek. he was hopelessly devoted to you and proved that to you every day, even if he wasn’t home. whether it was sending you cute texts or small gifts, you knew it was going to be okay as long as you had him.

so, as a loving wife expecting her husband to come home after months in dangerous situations, you expect simon to come home and greet you like he always does; soft kisses and tenderness that can only be shared between the two of you.

when you hear a knock on the door, you immediately jump up, ready to finally feel simon’s embrace. but, when you open the door, your stomach drops.

a large man in a hoodie and black balaclava, one you knew wasn’t simon’s, stands in front of you holding a gun to the center of your forehead. you freeze, not knowing whether to defend yourself or run.

“do as i say and put the bag over your head.” he grumbles. you comply, not wanting to make the situation worse.

everything goes dark after feeling a sharp knock to your head.

—————

you’re eyes slowly open, scanning the room with fear. you try to stand, only to find your arms and ankles tied to a metal chair.

the room is plain, only filled with you, a small overhead light, security cameras in each corner, and a bolted door directly across from you.

your head is aching, bruises surely littering across your face. where the hell are you? one moment, you’re waiting for your husband to come home and the next you wake up in a cold, dark room.

what time is it? has simon come home yet, only to find glass smashed and the door broken down with you nowhere in sight?

suddenly, the door opens with a loud creak echoing across the room. a man steps forward, his hands in his pockets with a gun sitting along his hip.

is this it? is this how you’re going to die?

“y/n riley.”

no. no no no, how does he know your name? what does he-

“you’re quite a pretty thing, ain’t ya’? ‘s a shame you married a bum like ghost,” he whispers, hand brushing your cheek.

you flinch away, glaring up at him with both anger and fear. “what do you want?” you ask.

the man chuckles, his monstrous laugh spreading like wildfire. “i want to know where the files are.”

what? what files?

“what the fuck are you talking about?” you spat.

“wow, for a girl so beautiful you sure have a bratty attitude. that’s gonna have to change.”

he brings his hand back, slapping you hard across your face while tears threaten to fall.

“i’m not telling you shit!”

a hand grasps around your throat, squeezing like a lemon on a hot summer day. you reach to claw his hands away but are met with rug burns on your wrists.

“if you keep this up, we’ll do a lot more than slap you” he says. when he finally let’s go of your throat after what feels like hours, you gasp and cough.

he begins to walk away, making some kind of signal to the guards surrounding the door. suddenly, a table of medical tool sits next to you.

fuck.

“no, no no no please i-” another slap stings your face before you can finish your sentence, the burning sensation spreading across your cheek.

a man picks up a scalpel in his gloved hand, holding your hand down with the other. “either tell us where the files are, or you’ll be cut into tiny pieces. your choice, doll,” a sinister smile spreads across his face as he looks down at you.

“please, i’m begging you! i don’t know what yo-” the scalpel swipes across your wrist in one swift motion, causing blood to seep onto the concrete floor. you scream, pain spreading to your chest as you feel a heavy weight on your throat.

the other guard wraps a metal wire around your neck, cutting into the soft flesh just enough to torture, but not kill.

you can’t breathe, sharp blades cutting along your body. punches land to your face, stinging sensations surrounding you until all you see is black.

—————

it’s been at least two days. you’ve become numb from the pain, burns littering your tired body from boiling water and a black eye that causes you unable to see.

where is simon?

he’ll come soon, right? he has to, there’s no way he could live without you in his life… right?

your mind flashes back to your wedding day, happy tears pouring from both of your faces while listening to the others vows. he promised to take care of you and protect you, no matter the cost.

so where is he?

your broken ribs ache with a growling stomach. you couldn’t deal with this anymore, when will it stop?

when will the men forcing themselves onto you and the burning stop? when will simon find you?

your head hangs low before shooting up from the sounds of gunshots. no, no no. they’re going to kill you.

the door slams open as you sob, salty tears stinging along your battered body.

“oh god, sweetheart.”

a familiar low voice rings across the room, bringing attention to your ears and causing you to shoot your head up. your sobs increase as you watch your husband run towards you before cradling your face in his hands.

“i’m sorry love, i’m so sorry,” he whispered.

gunshots continued ringing in the halls, screams filling your head. simon begins untying the ropes while speaking in quick bursts. you see tears flood his eyes as he looks at your body, naked, bruised, and scarred.

you jump into his arms, ignoring the pain you feel. you finally had simon, and that’s all you wanted.

you could care less about the snot and tears spreading across his tactical vest, he can always find another one.

“ghost! halls’ clear, helicopter landing in 5!” you hear a scottish voice speak over his radio.

everyone is here. everyone you care about is here to save you.

simon takes off his vest and shirt before putting it around you to cover you up, a spare pair of pants in the small bag behind him. he picks you up, hands under your knees and along your back. “‘s okay, sweetheart, i got ya’,” he whispers.

you grab tightly around his neck, fearing this is all a dream and he’ll fade away in a single moment. he runs towards an entrance as you hear a chopper sink onto a landing strip. blinding light burns your eyes from not seeing anything but unsettling darkness for god knows how long.

all you can cry is your husbands name before your head gets fuzzy and everything fades away.

—————

ok so i won’t lie i cried multiple times while writing this. it’s based off of a true story that happened to me when i was sold into a trafficking ring for three years and i thought channeling it into writing could be beneficial.

if you’re struggling in any way, just know that you matter and i’m always here for you. my messages and inbox are always open.

�� jude

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chrstigx · 3 months ago

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THIS IS UNFINISHED WORK!!

‘Tech trouble’

Aura x fem!reader

A/N: Hi! This is my first fic literally ever so give me some tips on my writing if you want! I haven’t seen any other fics about her and I've just watched the movie so I decided to give it a go! :) Hope you enjoy it! THIS IS STILL IN THE WORKS! ;P

It was the first beautiful day in a long time, the sun shining, the warm breeze flowing through the trees, making the green leaves quiver with life and the sounds of children's giggles and screams of joy from playing their games outside motivating you to finally take a nice hike in the woods.

Upon crossing the bridge that you had crossed time and time again throughout your life, you had heard what sounded like a frustrated groan. You pause, waiting for a few seconds before continuing your walk and brushing off whatever– or whoever made that noise… until you heard it again. This time, it sounded like a woman's voice– an older woman's voice, a thick British accent ringing out– “Dammit!! This stupid piece of technology!! Why wont it work?!” With a pause, you turn toward the sound. Well now you had to go investigate whoever it was.

As you walk further you finally approach an area of what looked to be a small campground, a little fireplace with roasting veggies, a small camper and a kitchen area with fairy lights strung all around. You were about to say something until you had heard another frustrated groan coming from inside the camper. “Hello? Who’s in there?” You would shout to the mysterious person in the camper, the leaves crunching under your feet as you approached.. That is until suddenly, the door would slam open, revealing an older woman with matted gray and brown-ish hair, a height of at least 6 feet, piercing blue eyes, and a brown jacket with long pants. She was holding a phone, her expression looking irritated as her eyes landed on you. “Who are you?! Why are you on my property?!” She would suddenly snap at you, causing you to take a step back. “Calm down, miss- I just heard a noise and thought-” “Thought what? That you could just trespass on my property?!” She would snap back before you could even finish your sentence. She did have a point though.

You would shake your head and would look down sheepishly for a second before regaining your composure and facing her again. “I just wanted to make sure you were alright- you sounded pretty upset..” You would protest, eyes narrowing as you placed a hand on your hip. Her expression softened the slightest, you could see it in her eyes. “Well- Well I am upset! This stupid government controlled phone wont work!!” She would practically shout– not at you directly just in your general direction. “Government controlled phone..?” You would question with suspicion as you approached her slowly. “What's wrong with it, exactly?” You would question her, still keeping a reasonable distance from her… just in case.

…TBC😋. @milfsloverblog

#gwendoline christie #actress #fanfic #robin and the hoods #THIS IS MY FIRST FIC PLEASE SPARE ME #aura x reader

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auras-moonstone · 1 year ago

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mad woman — ethan landry (part three)

word count: 1,414

pairing: gf!ethan landry x gf!fem!reader

based on: mad woman by taylor swift

summary: y/n and ethan have some tension between them on the night of the party

previous part ; next part

Y/N WATCHED AS TARA DRANK HER FIFTH CUP OF VODKA with fire in her eyes, imagining the way blood would soak her clothes once she was finally able to pierce her skin with a knife. She couldn’t bear to see Tara having fun, as if she hadn’t killed a part of her soul a year ago.

“Y/N/N? Please control yourself” Ethan, who was standing next to her, warned.

The girl shook her head “Sorry. I am not being subtle at all, aren’t I?” she laughed.

“Not really, but don’t worry. Everyone is way too drunk or busy dancing to notice your glares” he assured her.

“Still, I should be more careful. I just… sometimes it becomes too much, you know?”

Ethan nodded “I know, if it’s hard for me that I wasn’t even that close to him… I can’t imagine what it must be like for you. But we are almost there, hold on. It will be worth it”

“Yes, you are right” she nodded in agreement. “I’ll go get a drink”

The girl walked towards the table where the alcohol was placed and poured a cherry drink on her cup.

“Hi” said a deep voice from behind her. She turned around to find a tall muscular boy looking at her devil costume shamelessly.

“Hi. Are you done checking me out?” she asked annoyed. Frat boys weren’t her type at all.

“Sorry, you look really hot” he told her.

“Thanks” she replied dryly, ready to walk away, when he grabbed her elbow “Wait, dance with me”.

“No, thank you” she declined politely.

“Come on, don’t be boring” he insisted.

Fuck being polite, she though in that moment “I’m not boring I just think you are a douche. And I don’t dance with douches”

“Whatever, bitch” he muttered, he pushed past her so harshly that the contents of her cup ended up on her dress.

“Y/N/N! Shit, are you okay?” Anika asked worried.

“Hey, dickhead, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Mindy glared daggers at the frat boy, who payed no attention as he walked away.

“Don’t worry, it’s just alcohol, I’ll live” she reassured the couple.

“You are way too nice, I would have punch him” Mindy said.

Y/N laughed “At least I smell like cherries”.

“Oh no” Anika said “Creep number two of the night”

Y/N and Mindy looked at where the girl’s eyes were set and scrunched their noses. A guy, who appeared to be way too old to be at a college party, was leading Tara somewhere. The three girls walked towards them, trying to get Tara away from him, but she was being stubborn.

“I’m gonna get Chad” Y/N whispered to Mindy, who nodded. She found said boy on a corner, talking to Ethan. “Big guy, Tara needs you. They are right there”.

“Shit, thanks Y/N/N” Chad said, before leaving her and Ethan alone.

“What’s wrong?” the boy dressed as a knight asked.

“Frankie wants to lead Tara to his room” she answered disgusted. “I hate parties” she groaned. The wet clothes were clinging to her body and her skin was starting to feel sticky.

“What happened to you?” he questioned noticing how uncomfortable she looked.

“Some frat boy who can’t take no for an answer made me spill my drink on myself”

His eyes darkened, and the girl felt her body grow warm at the action “What’s his name? I can take care of him” he offered.

Y/N laughed “That’s sweet, but don’t waste your energy”.

“Do you want me to take you home? I’m bored anyways, and I think my dad already did it. So, we should be able to leave” Ethan said.

“Yes, please. One more minute in here and I might kill someone” she said as he grabbed her hand and led her out of the house. They found the rest of the group already there, plus Sam.

“Where were you?” Chad smirked at them.

“Sam what are you doing here?” Y/N asked, ignoring Chad’s question.

“She’s stalking me” Tara spat angrily.

The sisters continued to argue as the group trailed behind them, in awkward silence. And suddenly, a girl passing by threw her drink at Sam while she screamed “Murderer!”. Y/N watched in shock as a fight unfolded in front of her.

“Quinn made that rumour viral” Ethan whispered in her ear.

“Brilliant” she muttered “I love your sister, she’s great”.

“But I’m your favourite, right?” he asked.

“Oh, they are walking away. We better catch up” she said with a playful smile.

“Mean” he laughed pinching her hip.

She pushed him away as she let out a laugh “Yes, Ethan, you are my favourite sibling” she admitted. “Now, let’s go, pretty boy”.

Y/N AND ETHAN’S EYES MET AS SAM RECEIVED THE NEWS. The fear on the sisters’ voices was practically music to their ears, and it took everything in them not to smile with satisfaction.

“I’m gonna go shower. Maybe the four of you should stay here tonight, just in case” Y/N said to Chad, Mindy, Anika and Ethan once the sisters left.

“Yeah, that’s for the better” Quinn agreed.

“Sure. Ethan and I can sleep on the couch” Chad offered.

“You two can sleep at Sam’s” Quinn told the couple, who nodded.

“Y/N/N do you have extra blankets for us?” Chad asked.

“Yeah, come with me” she said, motioning him to follow her upstairs.

“Ethan go grab them” the boy said, pushing his friend towards her. Y/N frowned at that, but decided to say nothing.

“Sorry about that. Chad is pushing me to ‘make some moves’ on girls” he explained a bit embarrassed once they reached her room.

Y/N smiled, thinking he looked really adorable when he was nervous “Make some moves, huh? Are you doing well?”

Ethan snorted “One girl looked at me in disgust at the party, so no. Although, I don’t blame her. Chad asked her if she thought I was a snack, I think her reaction was valid”

Y/N laughed “Oh my god. Isn’t he supposed to help you? There is very few things more embarrassing and uncomfortable for a girl than being asked by a guy if they think their friend is cute”.

“I know” he sighed

“Sorry about the girl, though” she said, although she didn’t really mean it. Something about the idea of him flirting with other girls made her stomach feel weird.

“It’s okay. I wasn’t interested anyway” he brushed it off. The honesty in his statement made a wave of relief rush through her body.

“Here you go, snack” she joked as she handed him the blankets. Their fingers brushed and they both felt everything stop.

“You smell like cherries” he whispered, catching her eyes. The room felt warmer, as did their bodies.

“It’s the drink I spilled on me” she whispered back.

“I didn’t get to tell you but you look gorgeous in your costume” he said eyeing her lips.

“And you look really good in that shirt” she complimented. “You uh, have great arms”.

He smiled, the compliment made him feel more confident “Can I kiss you, Y/N/N?” Ethan asked. She looked at his big doe eyes and swore she could’ve let him do anything he wanted to her. “Y/N?” he asked. Maybe he read the whole situation wrong, maybe she wasn’t attracted to him. Or maybe she did, but it was too soon for her.

But she was quick to erase all the doubts from his mind. “I think I might die if you don’t kiss me right now, Ethan” she said taking one step closer, so that their chests touched. She had to tilt her head up and he had to look down. He grabbed the back of her neck, ready to push his lips against hers when the door opened.

“Holy shit!” the voice of Quinn made them pull apart. She was smiling widely and her eyes almost bulged out of her face. “Fuck, I can’t believe I cockblocked you!”

“What? No! We- no- I-“ Y/N sudden lost her English knowledge.

“You broke her” Ethan laughed, looking at her sister. They both laugh, and Y/N elbowed him in the stomach. “I was joking! Man, you are strong”.

“Anyways, love birds. It’s done” she informed. They both understood instantly what she meant—Bailey attacked the sisters successfully. “I’ll leave now, you can pick up from where you left”.

“I’m going to take a shower” Y/N said as soon as Quinn left. The moment was ruined, anyways.

“Is that an invitation?” Ethan smirked.

“Yes, an invitation to get out of my room” she smiled.

“Got it. I was pushing my luck” he said, walking to the door.

“By the way, you owe me a kiss, pretty boy” she winked as she entered her bathroom. Ethan smiled like a lovesick puppy as he closed the bedroom door behind him, still feeling the warmth of Y/N’s body and the softness of her skin against the palm of his hand.

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