#disconnected from body

[anthropologistfromentropy]

I'm very grateful I have never become an alcoholic or drug addict like a bunch of my relatives. But I have to admit I'm definitely escaping my life and my body into stories, intellectual pursuits and just mindless scrolling, to an unhealthy degree.

I'm neglecting my basic needs, and it's holding me back, making me less productive. In general disconnected from my body, though at least not as badly as I used to. I think I'm pretty "social engagement and investigating my environment" oriented nowadays, rather than stuck in a Freeze trauma response.

I want to take better care of myself. Just not sure how to actually successfully do it.

Part of the problem is ADHD/autistic hyperfocus, which my meds only worsens. Also my brain being conditioned to be disconnected from my body through years of trauma. Probably gender dysphoria too. And probably schizoid/schizotypal traits (though that's mostly trauma stuff too).

I have tried phone alarms and they help some, but I ignore them a lot too. Especially showering, brushing teeth and exercise I procrastinate/avoid a lot. Lately struggling more with going to sleep at a reasonable time, again.

[theribbajack]

"Now, the vow will be honoured, and my Lord brother's soul will return."

Radahn stans keep winning, but I personally am in Miyazaki's walls rn

[archiepelago]

alternate surface au inspired by a few ive seen around on tumblr :3

[the-apocalypse-is-upon-us]

are you guys seeing this shit

[humming-fly]

I know I've thought of a good shitpost when the premise is only funny to me and maybe three other people

[serpentface]

Retconned Wardi firearms- a basic handgun, a highly decorative ceremonial handgun (belonging to Faiza), and a lance-gun.

Gun tech has officially been nerfed down to hand cannons (press F) (this has been a long time coming but I'd been fallacy of sunk costs-ing myself out of retconning).

Handguns are held similarly to a shotgun, with the butt pressed into the user's shoulder, one hand gripping under the barrel, and the other free to ignite the gunpowder. These represent the most advanced firearms in contemporary usage, both in make and in their use of uniform iron projectiles built to match the gun's bore for greater range and efficiency. Lance-guns are the more basal form, usually larger and mounted with the pole held over the shoulder, and are most effectively used by two people (one to hold and aim, one to light the gunpowder).

The spread of firearms is currently mostly limited to the Eastern Inner Seaway peoples (with some additional distribution via overland trade), and actual manufacture of hand cannons and gunpowder at Significant scale is limited to the region's core powers.

The reason for this limited spread is partially due to specific elements of the technology's history. Gunpowder was first synthesized by Burri alchemists and considered to be the discovery of the legendary divine weapon + solar fire of the deity Inanariya, and its formula (along with techniques for ideally refining its components) remained a closely guarded state secret. It was used predominantly in priestly contexts to generate flame and explosive sounds (in conjunction with earlier practices of generating multicolored flames with use of other chemicals), then integrated into combustible weaponry in the forms of fire lances, which would eventually develop into early handcannons.

The treatment of gunpowder as a guarded sacred or semi-sacred substance continued with Wardi adoption, where knowledge of its making is considered a closed rite. It's name (inya tsatsul or just tsatsul, a derived adoption of the Burri iñazatsūya) still reflects a divine solar association (the Burri word means 'sun's thunder', the Wardi 'inya' invokes the sun, 'tsatsul' is an adapted loanword and has no meaning independent of the substance itself), though its priestly use is now predominantly associated with the firearm'ed Odonii (rather than priests of the solar Face Inyamache). The composition of gunpowder can no longer be regarded as a Secret by any means, though efforts to obscure the methods of its creation are still moderately successful and has kept knowledge of gunpowder manufacture more limited than the total sphere of firearm usage itself.

The actual strongest limiting factor of firearm usage is the rarity of natural saltpeter deposits necessary for making gunpowder. The practice of actively producing saltpeter via nitraries has not been developed anywhere in the setting, and all is instead obtained via natural sources. These sources are rare and limited within the current spread of firearm technology, and result in gunpowder being a limited and expensive substance to produce. The weapons themselves are also very expensive to manufacture (a good quality steel SWORD is far too material-cost prohibitive for most people to own), particularly high quality firearms designed for use with standardized ammunition.

These guns are also very basal, and logistical difficulties in their use (weight, very slow loading and firing speed, high visibility, Relatively low reach and accuracy) along with the restrictive cost of production has kept firearms far from rendering conventional weaponry, armor, and projectiles obsolete (even within the societies that have access to them). They are still, however, very devastating in use within their contemporary context, particularly in that high quality guns have a longer range than the best arrow-based projectiles, and utterly negate most contemporary forms of armor at close range.

[nelkcats]

The 7th

When the Wizard explained to Billy about his powers he forgot to mention that the Champion of Magic had a seventh patron who would manifest in his greatest moments of need. Although this one did not count as "official" since he was not exactly sharing his powers like the others.

So it's understandable that Billy would freak out at the new voice in his head telling him to steal a sandwich from one of the rude people on the subway.

Billy tried to argue with the voice about it since his parents had taught him all about good and evil but it had been a few days since his conversation with the Wizard Shazam and it had been weeks since his last decent meal other than leftovers. The Sandwich was packed and its owner wasn't paying attention, one little slip and he would have something in his stomach.

Solomon was very upset with the new voice, he was fully aware of who was talking and thought that he had left after the disaster with Adam but apparently the Ghost King had taken an interest in "The New Champion", Solomon had suspicions that it was because Billy was a kid.

The new voice introduced himself as "Phantom", he argued a lot with Solomon, didn't seem to have any moral and Zeus always muttered about his older brother's annoying best friend whenever he manifested. The boy did not know who the new God was but at least he gave good life advice. Or he liked to think so.

Phantom had many arguments with the other immortals, Hercules complained about his friendship with Kronos (which the boy found worrying but decided not to comment), Salomon about his recklessness, Atlas and Achilles bothered him constantly and Mercury kept challenging him to races. But it seemed that thanks to him everyone had become interested not only in helping Captain Marvel but also Billy!

Phantom even had a lot of good advices on being a young hero or keeping his secret from the League and for the first time since he got his powers Billy didn't feel so lost.

[randomfansstuff]

i also wanna just mention the probably most obvious metaphor in dark heir and rise. the hair lengths.

sarcean and anharion both being described as having really long hair. hair holding memories. both james and will having short cut hair. james having slightly longer hair than will since he's been aware of his circumstance for longer.

will's hair growing longer in italy, when they're close to the old palace and his past. hair holds memories.

their distance to their past being symbolised by how long their hair it.

[gothic-mothic]

how did narr even managed to survive outta there irl world before he found stanley again..? bet was confus- anyways, UR ART IS SO SILLYYY N SKOINKY /pos

CW: Panic attack, overstimulation, depersonalization, eyestrain

Begging tumblr to not send this post to the void again

Anyway, The Narrator wasn’t left alone for as long as Stanley was. He followed a familiar stream of thought to safety shortly after he arrived.

To say he was confused would be an understatement to say the least

Also thank you :]

[ruvviks]

PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS YOUR OWN OC OR PAIRING.

Nathan and Ruben share a bond more powerful than most; mutual understanding through past experiences no one should ever have to go through, and through past actions so horrible they cannot be spoken of. Their grief and the blood on their hands binds them to the STEM technology they created, which has alienated them from the rest of the world— but they give each other the comfort they have both longed for so desperately for years, and that is all they need. They are each other's counterpart; you cannot imagine one without the other, like two sides of the same coin. Through their pain, their grief, their desire, and their regret, they have become one.

anna akhmatova, the guest // bones; equinox // 'i won't become' by kim jakobsson // agustín gómez-arcos, the carnivorous lamb // by oxy // achilles come down; gang of youths // czeslaw milosz, from 'new and collected poems: 1931-2001' // 'extended ambience portrait from a resonant biostructure' and 'migraine tenfold times ten' by daniel vega // a little death; the neighbourhood // marina tsvetaeva, from 'poem of the end' // by drummnist // katie maria, winter // 'nocturne in black and gold the falling rocket' by james abbott mcneill whistler // micah nemerever, these violent delights // body language; we are fury // 'the penitent' by emil melmoth // chelsea dingman, from 'of those who can't afford to be gentle'

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[skcirthinq]

Continuing to clean up my files, I've come across some sketches I did for @pickledcarrotsandradish 's Reverse Order fic, which is.

Uh.

The future timeline, but what if the death orders of the turtles was reversed. And I, like a fool! Like an absolute dumbass! Was like, " oh I've read plenty of fics where I've seen each and every of the characters die. I'll be fine!"

I was not fine!

So like! Spoilers!

But, uh. I am in shambles.

I highly recommend op's other Rise fics; they're all very good!

And this next sketch isn't really based on any fic, but loosely inspired by the above mentioned fic, and a few others, making brain go:

"huh, I wonder what kinda krang designs the other boys would have?"

Fucked up!

[justawrites]

(Wip/Sketch) The Resurrection of a Heretic

You can definitely tell I got really tired after the first few pages but! It's done! Kinda! Pencil and paper sketch but it's done!

It's 3:30 AM so I really need to sleep, but tomorrow I'll add a read-more page by page transcription bc I know my handwriting isn't the easiest thing to read. Heavily recommend viewing in a new tab lol.

Had the Lamb chosen ANY other godless than Wren, and done it any earlier than before Narinder married them, Narinder would have been pissed about this. And unfortunately for Wren, being resurrected while being godless leaves its marks.

Anyway, Lamb stop breaking the laws of Faith for five seconds challenge, level impossible

Transcription below the cut

PAGE 1

Lamb: WREN! Hi! Wren: Hello, Lamb. Lamb, falling back into the water: Baa! Wren: Lamb!

PAGE 2

Wren: You are really bad at getting out of that pond... Lamb: It's the fleece. It's heavy when wet. Wren: Maybe you should forego it when visiting here? Lamb: And not look cool? No way! Wren: Almost drowning in a pool in the spectral plane does not sound very "cool," but to each their own...

PAGE 3 (timeskip, after unseen conversation in which Lamb suggests resurrecting Wren)

Wren: I... am not sure that is a good idea, Lamb. I have been dead for a hundred years now. I am not sure I know how to live anymore. Lamb: It'll be okay- Narinder and I will help you.

Lamb: Since you're not one of my followers, I need your actual body. Wren, as a ghost in the living world: My children will kill you if they see you digging up my grave. Lamb: Don't worry- it's handled!

Elloi (Narinder and Wren's middle daughter, all grown up): Not that we do not appreciate the visit, but our Father is visiting with you...? Kallamar: HAHA I missed my nieces, of course! Kallamar, thinking to himself: You owe me, Lamb! (A small text points to Kallamar, reading " "handling" it")

Wren: I am not sure our brother-in-law is up to that task. My girls are sharp. Lamb, offscreen: I have faith in him. Wren: At least one of us does.

PAGE 4

Wren: Also, uh- a hundred years? My body is nothing but bones and shrouds. Oh, and my death mask... Lamb: That's fine, as long as they're your bones, it will work. Wren: Should... I be worried? Lamb: No, no! I've tested it! Wren: Okay, I'm worried. Lamb: Hey!

Wren: Did you just shove my skeleton in your Crown? Lamb: Well I'm not about to walk out with it in my arms. Your daughters would try to kill me then...

Lamb: Think they'll notice the grave is disturbed? Wren: Minuit visits every morning, so yes. Lamb: Hm. So I should finish this before morning. Wren: If I come back as a zombie, I will bite you. Lamb: Promise? Wren: Lamb! Lamb: I'm kidding!

Lamb: I will miss being able to visit you on a whim, though. Wren: ...

Wren: Well, knowing you, me being alive again will not stop you... Lamb: True. You'll never escape me. We're like- spouse-in-laws or something! Wren: ... Not how it works, but yes, I suppose.

PAGE 5

Lamb: Kallamar is distracting your daughters, but the others should give me enough devotion for this- you know, being gods and Witnesses. Wren: I do not know, no. Lamb: Should I invite Nari? Wren: He will recognize a godless shroud. He might not let you go through with it, if he knows. Not to mention my mask... Lamb: Good point... I'm sure he won't mind if we surprise him!

Lamb: Wait, can you teleport? Wren: I am attached to you right now, so I will be dragged with you. Lamb: Cool....

Wren: I will admit, I will miss floating around like this. Lamb: You'd prefer to stay as a ghost? Wren: Now I did not say that.

Wren: It would take a stronger man than I to pass up the chance to touch their husband again...

Lamb: Oh, I see where your mind is~ Wren: Hold on- get your mind out of the ditch!

Wren: Thank you for not just dropping my skeleton. Lamb: Well, that would be rude. Wren: Kind of like shoving it in a bag... Lamb: It wasn't a bag!

Lamb: I need to put a mark on your skeleton... preferably somewhere subtle. It'll still be visible when you're alive again- any preference? Wren: Not really? Just do not be... weird about it. Lamb: Your hand, then.

PAGE 6

Wren: That is a strange symbol. What is it? Lamb: A modification of an immortality symbol. For my followers, it keeps them from aging- but this version helps me reverse your death. I think it helps meld the body and soul? It's very different from resurrecting my followers...

Lamb: Took me 50 years to think of this... It would not work before that. Wren: You... have been trying to revive me for 50 years?

Lamb: Oh- should I remove your mask? Wren: I would rather not see my own skull. Lamb: You'll be smelling whatever's inside when you wake up if I don't. Wren: ... Yes, remove it please.

Small text pointing to a cloaked Heket and Leshy reads "can't see or hear Wren."

Lamb: Okay! Ready! Wren, just float above your body! Leshy, Heket, Shamura- Witnesses, around the circle.

PAGE 7

Wren: Oh this is weird. Huh...

PAGE 8

Wren, thinking: What do I... do? This feels...

Wren, thinking: strange. Narinder, thinking: Where has everyone gone-?

Narinder: What. Is that Lamb doing now.

PAGE 9

Wren, thinking: It... worked. Wait, how do I breathe-

Shamura, offscreen: Relax.

Shamura: Your body will breathe on its own. Just relax. My siblings and I have been where you are.

Wren, breathing out: Thank you...

PAGE 10

Lamb: It worked! yes! How are you feeling?

Wren: Like I need a bath. Desperately.

Leshy: And clean clothes I bet. Lamb: Yeah, death shrouds a hundred years old is probably not a great feel...

Lamb: Come on- let's get you cleaned up. Wren: Okay... thank you.

text pointing to Wren reads "first bath in 100 years"

Lamb: Quick question- were you... wanting to keep this? Wren: My death shroud?? No?? It is a hundred years old and decaying... Lamb: Just making sure before I burn it.

Wren: I do want to keep the mask, though. Lamb: Got it. text pointing to the Lamb and the shroud reads "sets on fire"

text above the tub Wren is in reads "dunks head"

PAGE 11

Narinder: Lamb, I need to spea- Lamb: NARINDER!

Narinder: Gah! Lamb: Don't come in! You'll ruin the surprise! Narinder: Why are you short-?

Narinder, offscreen: Lamb! We are married! I have seen you naked before! We have bathed together!

Lamb, offscreen: Sorry, Nari- this is a surprise for you, so- please, just wait downstairs? Narinder: Would this have something to do with that ritual from earlier? Lamb: ... Maybe. Narinder: Fine, I will be downstairs. In the library.

Lamb: Hey, got you some robes- Wren: LAMB! Privacy!! Lamb: Relax, you've got nothing I haven't seen before. Wren: I DO NOT CARE- Lamb: You're gonna ruin your hair drying it like that-

PAGE 12

Wren: If you put your symbol on me I will hit you. Lamb: Too late, it's already on your hand. Wren: I meant that triangle thing, actually. Lamb: Oh- don't worry, the robe is symbol-free.

Wren: So this is permanent? Lamb: yeah, sorry- in all my experiments, removing it did... weird things. Wren: How did you "experiment," anyway? Lamb: Let's not talk about that...

Lamb: I think I liked what you wore in the After better. Wren: Mm, but that was a bit... gravity-defying. Lamb: Bet I could figure it out...

Wren: Being alive feels so weird... Lamb: yeah, I get it.

PAGE 13

Narinder: There you are, Lamb. Now, what did you-

Wren: Hello again, love.

Narinder: Wren...? How...? Wren: The Lamb is stubborn.

Narinder: You died... You are godless... The Lamb should not have been able to... Wren: They would not take that as an answer.

Wren: Besides, you have done the impossible before, too.

PAGE 14

Lamb: Soo you're not mad that I went behind your back to revive a godless person?

Text reads "Grabs"

Narinder: Do not ever do that again. ... But no. I am not mad. This time.

Lamb: Well, if Wren died again, I make no promises... but no one else. Not many ghosts with bodies still around, anyway...

Narinder: You are the most stubborn god I know. Thank you...

[the-mystical-aquatic-gay]

all i need from the magnus protocol is a afab avatar of the flesh, who hit puberty and just went absolutely feral because of everythig that comes with afab puberty

[pessimisticprincess]

😐😐😐😐

[bush-hobo]

You know what? I don't hate my body. I hate the fact that my body defines me as a girl. I like the way I look, I don't want to have to take testosterone or hide my chest to be viewed as something other than a girl. I love my body, I love its shape and everything it can do, I'm strong, fast, and decently beautiful, but everything that I should love about myself is undermined because of the flesh bags on my chest? I HATE THAT SO MUCH.

The idea that I have to cut off parts of me to be viewed by society as masculine is awful, and something that I can't help, shaping the way others view me so intensely, really, really hurts me. I don't want to change me. I just want to be accepted for what I am, and the idea that my chest is getting in the way of that is what makes me hate it so much. I don't hate my chest specifically, but the ideas connected to it. If those ideas vanished, I could live happily and freely without having to alter my body. Without having to bind to be comfortable, without having to deal with never quite feeling connected to my OWN BODY. I should feel safe here.

It isn't fair.

[pianokantzart]

All That Remains

One-shot based on @elitadream's Body Swap AU. It's set in the aftermath of Mario's eventual rescue, (it also comes with a few drawings because I was in a mood.) Please note that the Bowser I drew is, for the sake of consistency, based on elitadream's (fcking awesome) Bowser design, and is not my own take.

If you like this AU/concept, please check out the masterpost! There is soooo much good stuff on there.

________________________________

Inexperience and desperation fueled an inferno that turned the bright green fields on the outskirts of The Mushroom Kingdom as black as the heart of The Darklands. Kamek clung to his broom high above the mayhem, and through the smoke and roaring flames he caught glimpses of the two warring bodies, each utterly detached from their senses, unaware of either fatigue or pain as they grappled for dominance in a struggle far more explosive than anything he had witnessed before. Mario alone– equipped with Bowser’s body– seemed to have some sort of a goal beyond delivering as much damage as possible. As clumsy as he was with his giant claws and heavy form, he remained keenly aware of where Luigi and Princess Peach were, and always made sure he was positioned to shield them from the worst of the heat.

Though Luigi and Peach struggled to assist in whatever way they could, the raging inferno that encompassed the fight made even comprehending what was happening around them near impossible, and even Kamek, accustomed to the fire whirl and magma pits of home, felt overwhelmed. Yet, out of fear for his king, he ventured closer, weaving about the spires of flames upon his broomstick to get a better look.

Though Mario and Bowser alike were to blame for the surrounding destruction, he was surprised to find a majority of the fire was radiating from the body of the plumber. Bowser had wielded firebrand with reckless abandon, clearly unaware of such magic’s limitations, barely even noticing the redness and blisters forming upon his skin wherever patches of his gloves and sleeves had been burned away. Mario’s body was more resistant to heat than that of the average human, but it– unlike Bowser's original body– was not immune. Kamek’s concern grew into a subdued panic when, at length, the fire began to lose intensity. Bowser strained to refuel the inferno, staring with unfocused confusion at his all-too-human hands as he struggled to make sparks when he once constructed torrents of white hot flames. He didn’t know what was happening, but Kamek could tell that the abused body was finally failing him. As the heat died down, Luigi and Peach slowly made their approach, careful to avoid the patches of earth that boiled red-hot from the encounter. Seeing where the chips fell, Kamek knew what needed to be done. Thankfully, the spell that had switched Bowser and Mario’s bodies– though difficult to conduct– was childsplay to undo. With the wave of his wand and a whispered charm, both souls were returned to their original form. Luigi and Peach witnessed the flash of light, and the great change in both Mario’s and The Koopa King’s expression.

Immediately, Bowser felt it: the weight of being and the connection to his old flesh. Like waking from a heavy sleep he noted the tiredness in his arms and the ache in his chest, as well as the pain of the bruises and the burns he himself had inflicted in his scuffle with a borrowed body. His newfound sense of weakness triggered a rage. A low, familiar growl rumbled throughout his draconic form as he turned toward the magikoopa hovering nearby.

“Kamek!” he roared, “I did not order you to return me to my body!” Kamek’s broom came to a landing at Bowser’s side– now the true Bowser, through and through. Kamek had expected his lord to be displeased, and yet he couldn’t help flinching, clutching his wand to his chest at the severity of the voice. “I’m sorry sire, but I had no choice! Your old vessel, it… it could not carry on!” “What!?” Bowser blew a puff of smoke and looked to where Mario stood, although “stood” may have been too strong a term. The little plumber– himself, slowly growing aware of his own body– wobbled unsteadily in place. Outside of the injuries he’d undergone in the fight there were other markings; his cheeks sallow and his eyes sunken, his breath labored and his lips cracked and chapped. His knees began to buckle, and the princess and Luigi rushed together to catch him before he hit the ground. Bowser smirked, taking no small amount of satisfaction in the fear that flashed through Mario’s eyes as he steadily crumbled into the arms of his companions.

“See? Your efforts weren’t for naught.” Kamek continued cheerfully, “your hated enemy is defeated, worn thin through ‘his’ decimation of The Mushroom Kingdom’s defenses. We merely need to press forward with the invasion, and victory shall be yours!...”

Kamek was about to continue, when he was interrupted by a violent flash of blue light and the crack of thunder. Luigi had left his brother in the arms of the princess and leapt in front of them, electricity shooting from an outstretched hand, across the charred plane, into the body of the magician.

Kamek, blindsided, received the attack with full-force. He jittered and contorted, unable to emit so much as a shriek as electricity ricocheted through his elderly body, until at length he fell to the ground limp as a ragdoll.

All eyes shifted to Luigi. 

Anyone who had fought with The Mario Brothers, whether as their ally or opponent, knew firebrand had horizontal range and thunderhand had vertical range. Both were capable of incredible destructive power in close quarters, and when Mario and Luigi worked as a team, few had the opportunity to get near enough to feel the full force of their magic. By all accounts, Kamek should have been out of range. Even Luigi appeared utterly bewildered by what he just accomplished, breathing heavily as he looked at his own hands, shivering from adrenaline and sparking uncontrollably.

Bowser, equally confused, bent down at Kamek’s side, and examined him in a moment of what appeared to be genuine concern. With the enemy distracted, Luigi took a step back toward Princess Peach to deliver the harried bullet points of his plan. “You need to get him to The Mushroom Kingdom before the invasion. Get Mario help. Get everyone ready. I’ll keep him busy.” “Luigi!” The princess’ voice was pleading as she gathered Mario into her arms. Truthfully, she knew Luigi’s idea wasn't a bad one. Bowser’s body, despite being in better condition than Mario’s, had not emerged from the battle unscathed. Given the current circumstances, Luigi stood a chance of holding his own, and The Mushroom Kingdom desperately needed time to ready its defenses before Koopa Troops showed up in droves to carry out Bowser’s planned attack. Nonetheless, Peach detested the thought of abandoning him. He had suffered too much on his own already. Furthermore, he and Mario had just been reunited, and she preferred any other possible avenue over splitting them apart again.

Luigi glanced over his shoulder, and forced a reassuring smile that didn't quite fit his words: “I’m sorry! I was so scared I- I didn’t do anything right! I should’ve done more… protected everyone sooner." His voice cracked, those old familiar tears forming in the corner of his eyes. "Please, let me do things right this time.”

Mario, through his fight to maintain consciousness, heard every word, and hated them with every fiber of his being. He attempted to speak, to reach out for his brother, to do anything to console him… but his tongue cleaved to the roof of his mouth and his arms hung limply at his sides. All he could manage was a barely-audible murmur. Luigi had no right to feel this way. He wasn’t the one who had fallen for Bowser’s trap, who had allowed himself to be chained up in the underbelly of the world, who had given over to despair. Luigi, through no fault of his own, had been suddenly abandoned to the whims of a monster, and yet he had escaped and traveled all the way to The Darklands to save him. How could he feel guilt for this? How could he feel anything but proud of himself?

“Luigi…” Peach whispered, but before she could say anything more, there came a thudding of heavy steps. A giant clawed hand cast a shadow over them as Bowser, who realized by now that Kamek wouldn’t be roused any time soon, rushed forward to finish the fight. Luigi leapt over the attack on instinct while The Princess rolled out of the way, holding Mario close to her chest as Bowser’s heavy hand shattered the earth inches from her back. The King of The Koopas turned to Peach, poised to bring down another blow, when Luigi landed upon the back of his neck. One hand clung to his horn, while the other slammed down against the thick, scaly skin of his neck to deliver another pulse of electricity. This time, Bowser felt it, and the sound of his pained roar fueled Luigi’s determination. “Go your highness!” He shouted, struggling to maintain his grip as Bowser fought to shake him off, “I won’t be far behind!” Princess Peach hurried to her feet, hesitating for only a moment longer as she tightened her hold on Mario's body. She felt him grow limp, heard his labored breath slow, and felt the decision had all but been made for her. With a heavy heart she turned and ran toward The Mushroom Kingdom, pouring whatever magic she left into Mario's unconscious form. The burns could be fixed easily, but the effects of starvation, dehydration, and sleep deprivation were not so easily undone. Slow damage required slow remedies, and the worst of his condition had been over a week in the making.

She didn’t dare look back, keeping her eyes focused on the twinkle of the castle’s familiar stained glass window in the distance, shining like a beacon above clouds of ash and smoke as the world behind her echoed with the sound of monstrous roars and crackling thunder.