#for archival purposes if nothing else

[dynamicentropy]

Blaseball recent events real talk:

I think the fact that tgb just decided to shut it down without any kind of send off is what gets me.

Like. It just feels like a fuck you to the maincord mods, blaseball cares, sibr, bnn, the garages, and everyone else who poured their heart and soul into this to just say "show's over, server shuts down in a week" with absolutely nothing else, and closing discussion hours later.

Like yeah I get it, it was hard work and it was your project and your sim, but. It feels like you guys aren't even letting any of us say goodbye. You just drop this on us and leave because you don't want it to be your problem for even a second more.

Now we have to scramble in the aftermath. We knew it was gonna end, but we didn't even get a warning, let alone an ending. Idk I'm. Ugh.

[sparklepoint]

i like to put them in pulpy badends. bring your trophy boytoy to work day at the seedy organized crime underworld

[passthroughtime]

so i have two things i've wanted to talk about for a while

the 1st one:

what do you mean, yagami. what exactly do you mean.

actually, i'm losing it at the fact that not only yagami wanted to avoid kuwana resenting him forever, but kuwana ALSO considers his resentment as a good enough insentive for yagami to not do it ever again

like. all delusions aside. a dude, who just thinks the other dude is being nosy and annoying and that he fucks everything up for him, tells him to stop being nosy and annoying, or his opinion on him would change for the worse irreversibly (what a threat). while that other dude figured that he will be threatened that way and went behind that guy's back, did the thing the dude will be upset about, and came back to inform him that he did the thing, because he cares about the dude's opinion for some reason and wants to be the one who'd tell him about the thing. oh, and they are called ENEMIES by others. they hate each other actually.

btw, yagami has never gone to bother kusumoto again. and did it only when she betrayed kuwana, only to say that he doesn't give a fuck about her anymore

they are so normal about each other.

P.S.: tesso honey i'm so sorry that this keeps happening with you

the 2nd one:

or, how i call this, the most romantic thing a protagonist can say to an antagonist

"i know so well that it scares me" you bitchass loser.

...actually, no, i have no commentary to this one. this is just a normal thing to say when a person confesses to the reasons on why he murders people. why am i making a big deal out of this. revenge killing is fine actually

✨bonus thingie✨:

simp behaviour tbh. so cringe of you, kuwana.

[suenitos]

disappointed. ppl in the front row and those with good quality cameras and phones during the concert better be putting in WORK the entire concert I am not joking.

[kindahoping4forever]

Ash on IG Story

[finely-tuned-line]

RP:

ARCHIVED - PRIVATE TRANSMISSION

DD: it was actually a spice! the idea that it was a food is a common misunderstanding! very few cities thought it was a good food by itself, and some went to the extremes that eating not as a spice was... sacrilege!

SNS: kind of drastic, it's just a spice?

DD: eh, its the ancients. pretty difficult to question anything

SNS: you're probably right on that! where'd you even dig this up, it seems... well, ancient.

DD: the ancients didnt slowly phase out the "indulgence of food" til abt... at least 3250 cycles before the discovery of void fluid?

DD: i got into an argument with someone rly far away from us... nothingness and no regrets was number name i think? number city had rly good archival practice, and num was incredibly eager to disprove the "wrong" information that i had. cant even learn anyth new these cycles without arguing over it and goading them into it

DD: but from what ive picked up, before high-quality food was largely forbidden amongst most of the cities, some ancients were rly good at... cooking? it was considered art, some even dedicated dozens of their lifetimes to it

SNS: it sounds really interesting!

EP: Nerds.

SNS: i'm not the nerd here! i'd say that that would be Doubt's Dichotomy over there. she's the one who knows all of this.

DD: >:0

DD: i WILL stip talking to you

EP: I wouldn't take a misspelled sentence seriously, if I were Songs of the Negative Sunlight!

DD: YOU TOO, THEN

EP: There, there... No need to get so worked up...

SNS: maybe stop teasing it now?

EP: You're right. Sorry, Doubt's Dichotomy.

DD: its alright!

SNS: either way, hello Echoes of a Paradox! Haven't heard from you in a couple of cycles.

EP: Sorry. Was running a specific iteration of my latest attempt. Probably should have checked in earlier.

SNS: it's alright, don't worry about it!

SNS: did you succeed?

EP: You'd have heard of it by now if I had.

SNS: you're right in that matter, indeed.

FTL: I'd think that a futile try is still better than nothing.

EP: ...Right you are.

SNS: Finely-Tuned Line! haven't heard from you in even longer.

FTL: As always, I have been running various experiments. Nothing exuberantly special or outstanding to report, in any imaginable generally applicable category.

SNS: alright. take a break sometime, maybe?

FTL: I will not be doing so. I am - we are - not designed to take breaks, I will not be doing so. If you apply other thinking to yourself, that is up to you to deal with the consequences. I'll deal with mine.

EP: I'll check in more often, Songs of the Negative Sunlight. Will be leaving for now.

SNS: okay, thank you. stay safe.

FTL: I will be doing the same. That is, exiting for the meantime. No guarantees of consistent reports from me.

SNS: affirmative. you also stay safe.

SNS: ...i suppose i'll be doing the same.

SNS: contact me in any case necessary, that's what i'm here for.

DD: GOT ANOTHER. AN ENVOY TO THE OPEN FIELDS! AND SHES GOING TO TELL ME ABOUT ZIR CITY WILLINGLY!!

DD: fianlly. no one even talks to me anymore in groups unless i use an alias

DD: ...hello?

DD: anyone?

DD: guess ill celebrate on my own.

[mikkeneko]

So here's my beef with ChatGPT. Even aside from the issues with plagiarism, cheating, people using it to fake the work that they absolutely need to be actually doing, &etc.

With the advent of the internet we've been in a situation where all the knowledge available to humanity could, conceivably, be made available to everyone at all times. We've had enormous public works built towards that purpose -- libraries, Wikipedia, archives, everything. But an increasing problem as the years have gone by has been the problem of sorting out the signal from the noise. Sorting out real, helpful advice from scams and snake-oil. Paths that lead to dead-ends as sources of information go down and don't come back up. Trying to figure out who's a real expert, who's even a real person in a sea of fake generated avatars. Distinguishing wheat from chaff, usable material from trash.

And the makers of ChatGPT -- and every other AI programmer who's now trying to jump on the bandwagon -- is looking at this problem and saying "You know what this situation needs? More noise. More fakes. More chaff. More dead-ends and empty shells. I think we have TOO MUCH useful information and real expertise. I think we should shake things up by adding more utterly contentless garbage to the mix." And they created an automated noise generator.

Just imagine being on the bank of a pond and saying "ah, this is a lovely pond, the fish and plants are so beautiful, I'm just having trouble seeing them through the silt in the water" and the person next to you says "I'm going to build a factory on the bank of this pond that does nothing but pour more dirt into it. All day. Every day. Nonstop." And then everyone else overhears them and says "Oh, what a fantastic idea! I'm going to create my OWN sludge-factory to get in on this action!"

[feathered-serpents]

Lmao my TikTok was too long to upload here so I’m just gonna retype it all out

Chester and Norris: Are they really Jon and Martin?

Wrong question imo! The BETTER question is: How MUCH of Jon and Martin are Chester and Norris?

The fact is these programs have SOME link to Jon and Martin, Jonny and Alex would not be voicing them otherwise, so what it comes down to is how much of a link?

Because it could be that it’s ONLY their voices. Annabelle explained to Jon that the tapes belonged to the Web, and that by “taking his voice” Jon was therefore bound to the Web and the other fears by extension. It’s entirely possible that when the Fears left Archives’ universe, they brought Jon (and Martin as he was also on the tapes) voices over with them, but JUST the voices. Nothing else. It’s just a coat of paint over the entities methods of collection, Chester and Norris aren’t Jon and Martin anymore than glasses are the person wearing them

But I’m not sure that’s the case. There’s a lot of holes there. The main one being: why? If it is just hollow voices, then why? What’s the purpose of the fears using them? It’s only been two episodes, so it might be answered later, but let’s talk about the second possibility

Chester and Norris ARE Jon and Martin, they just aren’t aware. When Martin “cut the tether” in episode 200, he didn’t cut the Fears away from Jon, he cut the Fears away from the world and at that point, as the Pupil of the Eye, Jon was part of the fears. Since Martin was in the panopticon when they went, he went too.

And now we have a disembodied Jon and Martin existing in a dazed but still hungry state. They seek out whatever’s familiar and since there’s no Magnus Institute, they go to the OIAR, get into their system, and read out any “real” statements they can find. Feeding off of them.

In this possibility, Jon and Martin are effectively asleep. They aren’t aware of what they’re doing really, just going by their new instincts/nature. But I think the more they feed, the more conscious they’ll become, and we’ll start to Chester and Norris break script. Stutter over a word. Add words. Things that a text to speech program simply CAN’T do even if glitched to shit

What complicates this possibility is the fact that Alice said they only showed up a year ago when it’s implied the OIAR has existed much longer than that as well as the fears in this world. It could be they move from place to place feeding off what they can, and when that’s bled dry, they move somewhere else? If they’re as intertwined with the fears as this theory implies, they could exist across infinite universes, staying alive like this

I’m not sure! It’s super interesting tho. I think the saddest ending would be if it’s never really answered, and Jon becomes, at least in some ways, a mystery

[milksockets]

why scan?

scanning is something i've done for probably about 12 years now (i'm ancient, for this site), with varying degrees of regularity, intensity, etc. it has ratcheted up since the dawn of 2023, though, which begs the question: why? why put so much time into what could not-wrongly be considered a passive activity, hunched over a piece of clunky machinery with the express purpose of preserving others' creations? the answers are several, and fascinating (not really).

i am a [sober] drug addict. anything i pursue, consume, create--more often than not--ends up taking on addictive qualities. i'll eat the same specific food item for a month, then never want to see, let alone taste it, again. i'll listen to one song on repeat for days until i'd rather hear nails on a chalkboard than have it shuffle on and assault my ears. one of the reasons that my scanning has increased in volume recently is that i acquired library cards to the 3 nyc library systems: nypl, brooklyn, and queens. as soon as i was able to, i pillaged + plundered those fine centers of learning, leaving any given library with as many hefty scan-worthy books as i could [barely] carry. here, finally, was a *free* way of obtaining more + more + more visual media to consume.

2023 saw me get my first legal, full-time job. as such, my adjusting to that hellish reality resulted in a steep decline in my own personal creative output. collaging, writing, and rapping all fell to the wayside as i slowly acclimated to a life of work that almost everyone else my age has known for over a decade is generally unbearable + detrimental to the maintenance of outside pursuits. in times of famine within my own artistic harvest, scanning, archiving, and sharing others' work is a means of feeling as though i am still contributing to the global oeuvre.

there’s an element of losing my mental self in a series of physical motions that becomes almost automatic after some time. “zoning out” is not something endemic to my daily life; if anything, i’m almost always too zoned in. relief is necessary.  especially considering the shitshow this past year has been in terms of my personal life.

i am a product of capitalism’s cultivating a craving for constant consumption. 

it seems that visual content is only going to continue to get more + more uninspired. has everything been done? did social media ruin it all? in any case, i feel a need to document the past. to a degree, it’s my version of doomsday prepping. (god forbid books go extinct altogether.) 

i have always gravitated towards solitary activities. this topic could be a thesis in its own right.

i thrive on external validation. this reliance is something i’ve improved upon over the past several years, but it hasn’t been altogether extinguished. even though the materials i scan are not of my own creation, i nevertheless feel a vague pride in showcasing them. occasional appreciation thereof satisfies this fixation on others’ attention, albeit in a diluted form. 

i am fortunate to live in a city bursting to the gills with cultural institutions. i am also lucky enough to have some disposable income that can be directed toward fulfilling my ravenous desire for visual media. 

((i keep getting messages about the specifics of my scanner + "process":

i have a cheap ass hp envy 6055e and i just use the software it comes with.

there's nothing special or fancy happening here, and i could definitely invest in a better and/or a large format scanner, etc. but i really just don't care enough and it's not like i'm getting paid for this lmao))

[copperbadge]

Migrating Off Evernote

Evernote, a web-based notes app, recently introduced super-restrictive controls on free accounts, after laying off a number of staff and introducing AI features, all of which is causing a lot of people to migrate off the platform. I haven't extensively researched alternative sites, so I can't offer a full resource there (readers, feel free to drop your alternative sites in notes or reblogs), but because I have access to OneNote both in my professional and personal life, I decided to migrate my Evernote there.

I use them for very different things -- Evernote I use exclusively as a personal fanfic archive, because it stores fics I want to save privately both as full-text files and as links. OneNote I have traditionally used for professional purposes, mainly for taking meeting notes and storing information I need (excel formulas, how-tos for things I don't do often in our database, etc). But while Evernote had some nicer features it was essentially a OneNote clone, and OneNote has a webclipper, so I've created an account with OneNote specifically to store my old Evernote archive and any incoming fanfic I want to archive in future.

Microsoft discontinued the tool that it offered for migrating Evernote to OneNote directly, but research turned up a reliable and so-far trustworthy independent tool that I wanted to share. You export all your Evernote notebooks as ENEX files, then download the tool and unzip it, open the exe file, and import the ENEX one by one on a computer where you already have the desktop version of OneNote installed. I had no problem with the process, although some folks with older systems might.

I suspect I might need to do some cleanup post-import but some of that is down to how Evernote fucked around with tags a while ago, and so far looking through my notes it appears to have imported formatting, links, art, and other various aspects of each clipped note without a problem. I also suspect that Evernote will not eternally allow free users to export their notebooks so if nothing else I'd back up your notebooks to ENEX or HTML files sooner rather than later.

I know the number of people who were using Free Evernote and have access to OneNote is probably pretty small, but if I found it useful I thought others might too.

[meanbossart]

in the least confrontational way possible…what’s up with you shipping durge and orin? is it just another aspect of u liking fucked up dark dynamics in media? personally its not for me at all, but i’m curious why you like them together and how her dynamic is with ur durge

[CONTENT WARNING for mentions of inter generational incest and grooming below, nothing explicit.] Hm. You know, it's a little unfortunate that we have reduced every depiction of characters having a relationship that is at all romantic or sexual in nature (not even, really, I've only ever drawn them hugging LOL) as "shipping". I don't "like" them together in the way I like DU drow and Astarion together, for example, and they never really were together. I made up a story that I find interesting, because I find Orin interesting and wanted to explore her themes more, and liked the idea that hers and Durge's relationship wasn't always "bad".

I really enjoy writing for DU drow, I put a lot of effort into making his story feel fleshed out and suited for the in-game universe. It's a little disheartening that some people may harp on this without considering that there is a wider context beyond it just tickling me, somehow. These are two characters who've never even had sex, in which one of them (Orin) isn't even interested in romance or "mating", and the other one has no concept of healthy relationships, familial or otherwise and just desperately grasps at the one thing he feels a kinship to: to the eventual disintegration of the one relationship he had that approached anything to mutual understanding and relatability.

Theirs isn't a love story, it's a story about isolation and grooming that led to total dependency. If you've been told your whole life that everyone and everything is fated to die at your hand, that your kind is meant to be contained within a genetical crockpot, that debauchery is normalcy and everyone else is the enemy, it is no huge stretch that you would dump all expectations of companionship onto your one, supposed equal - friend, sister, mate, should-be-lover. And then, if you're a bad person on top of that, you won't take no for an answer.

Add to that that your grandfather (Sarevok) is apparently in total agreement and a practicant of the idea of inbreeding for weird purity purposes and you have yourself an environment where an obsession like such can be born - one that Orin wants nothing to do with, because unlike DU drow, she doesn't become distracted by matters of the heart - and hence we have conflict, and we have reason for resentment to brew over time. At some point in the past, they had a "good" (within the bhaalist concept) relationship, and there was nothing sexual or romantic about it. DU drow crushed that. And then he got a worm in his brain for it.

Is that shipping? 🤷 idk

If you go onto my blog's archive and look up the "orin the red" tag you can find more asks where I discuss them and their relationship.

[esamastation]

Some Magnus Archives fanfic ideas....

1, The Archivist was never a Beholding adjacent position - there's nothing about the Eye that demands it's servants to record their knowledge. Instead, the Archivist was an ancient, general purpose collector of fears, always meant to gather and immortalise them in stories. Jonah Magnus (like many avatars of many different Powers before him) just hijacked the concept for his own uses and now everyone assumes it's how things are supposed to be.

1.2, All Leitners are written by Archivists. After consuming enough stories about specific Fears, an Archivist has to get them out, expelling all the gathered fear and coagulating it into single point - traditionally, in books. Aka, unbeknownst to him, Jon's recordings work a little like Leitners.

1.3, Simon Fairchild is the only one old enough to remember a time when an Archivist had no special connecting to the Beholding.

1.4, A time travelling Jon resorts to drastic measures to make sure he can't be used for the Watcher's Crown again, and permanently mutes himself - and gains for his troubles an obsessive compulsion to write eldritch books.

2, Post ep. 200 Jon and Martin end up somewhere else - back in time, alternate reality, in another fandom, whatever. Jon is still the Archivist and he still has the urge to archive, to listen and to record. But knowing what they do now, both are of the opinion that using tape recorders is a Big No. Aka, Jon ends up using vinyl records instead (and thus courting the Spiral instead of the Web??)

3, Jon asks a very important question I really wished he had: why does Gerry, with all the experience and knowledge he has, get eye tattoos on all his joints? Do they do something? What do they do?? Which then leads Jon down a very different sort of path of Being Marked By Horrors. Aka, Jon starts getting magical tattoos to balance and counteract the various Dread Influences on his life. Aka, Tattooed Jon Being A Distraction To Everyone and Also Mucking Up Elias' Plans By Having A Closed Eye Tattooed On His Forehead Maybe???

3.2 Better yet, this becomes a Trend in the Archives and everyone outside the Archives comes to the conclusion that the place is ran by some sort of delinquent gang of tattooed hooligans. Tattooed Martin for the soul, anyone?

4, Jonah/Elias Sees everything there is to see and figures it all out long before Jon and Martin make it back to London. Total extinction of human race looms not in unfathomable distance but less than hundred years in the future, and it turns out that in absence of human free will, the Fears grow... quite boring and repetitive, really. Jonah wanted Immortality to See It All, and this... isn't it. So, time for a retry. Aka, Jonah time travel.

4.2, Jon, Martin and Jonah all end up back in time after episode 200, and immediately Jon and Martin scramble to stop Jonah - not realising that he's already changed his mind about the Watcher's Crown, and is, in his own way, on their side.

5, Mr. Spider's door is flung open and the Archivist stumbles out, right in front of traumatised little Jon Sims. Aka, Eldritch Eye Monster tries to raise his own younger self to make better decisions than he did and probably only makes things worse.

6. All the above.

[silenzahra]

⚡ 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.

[dronebiscuitbat]

Birthday Treat (Oil is Thicker Then Blood) -Bonus

Blame the comments on AO3. I had people request for this, so here it is. This is smut.

Like... way more intense smut then I'm used to writing- Enjoy! (Also if you ain't into it, it adds nothing to the story, so you can skip it and not miss anything, hence the BONUS tag.)

When Tera was lovingly put to bed, wrapped in a circle of pillows and draped in a blanket, dreaming of playtime and sweet oil treats. Her parents scurried off into the opposite corner, giggling like a pair of naughty children.

Uzi sat on his lap, attacking his neck and artifical collarbone with nipping kisses, that caused a heady mixture of light giggles and breathless gasps to escape from him, a lovestruck smile on his face and a golden blush pairing nicely with one of his eyes glitching into a golden heart.

“Good Boy~” Uzi whispered into his audial, making him whimper as she pressed her body up against him, his tail wagging erratically and shuddering breaths being pushed out of both his vents and his lungs.

“Mhm… Uzi.” He hummed in reply, his hands beginning to wander over her clothes; her kisses becoming long stripes of hot tongue over his neck and shoulder, making him grunt as his core began to pound in anticipation.

For the most part, and excluding their first time, N preferred to be leading; for the exclusive purpose of making his mate feel good. That made him happier then anything else, he liked the way she sounded, the way she moved underneath him. And most of all he liked to please.

But that didn't mean he couldn't give up his control. Especially if Uzi wanted to treat him, so when she made a move to cup his cheek and go for his lips, he happily went along, letting himself be pampered when her tongue entered his mouth and swiped over his own.

He felt a moan being dragged out of his core, absorbed by his partners mouth as his hat was knocked off his head and his hair was lightly tugged by small, adept fingers entangling in his locks.

He could do this until the end of time, kiss her until the sun died and sent it's cosmic viscera across the galaxy, but he pressed a hand into the back of her head, forcing her closer despite the fact there was simply no way for her to.

He growled, breaking the kiss and beginning a counter-assult on her own neck, kissing every spot deeply, though never using his teeth; unless she asked for it. Searing kisses being left up and down her neck until she pressed him hard into her shoulder, a wordless beg.

So he bit down, springing oil from her body and a deep moan from her mouth, throwing her head back as she felt her reserves drain into his awaiting maw.

N closed his eyes as the nectar from heaven filled every one of sensors, groaning in pleasure between every gulp. He moved his head to the side, inviting the same treatment onto him-

Which she accepted without thought.

The sharp pain of her teeth puncturing his neck was quickly replaced by the feeling of oil leaving his body and filling her mouth, something that shouldn't have felt good; but turned his own feeding sloppy as he couldn't stop the needy moans that pushed out of his chest.

So he stopped, licking clean the wound until it stopped seeping, a chant that nearly sounded like a prayer mumbled out;

“Uzi… Oh, Oh~, Uzi~”

She laughed as she licked clean the wound she made, lapping up every drop of oil until he was stitched shut again, forehead leaning on forehead as they both panted, trying to catch thier ragged breath.

Then lips connect again, the taste of each other's oil enhancing it further as N pulled off the loose shirt Uzi was wearing, completely exposing her in a single moment.

His eyelights were completely replaced with yellow hearts as he kissed down her body, not allowing her to retake her lead. Her hands came to undo each button on his coat, driving him mad with how slow she was going.

He was so focused on adoring her frame that he didn't notice her hand reaching down, his coat being shoved off his shoulders and flung almost the exact same time a finger curled around the cord of his tail.

He shivered, freezing for a moment, they had done this more times then he could count at this point- but Uzi had always made a point to avoid his tail, now though, now her fingers were stroking down the cord slowly.

She pulled his head up and looked him in the eye, both panting.

“Tell me if you get uncomfortable…” She mumbled, eyes half lidded and core pounding so hard she felt she might pass out.

He nodded, despite everything, he trusted her implicitly.

Her hand reached his nanite cannister, fingers brushing lovingly across it, he immediately felt himself lurch, heat exploding into his core.

A long, desperate moan followed, electricity zapping up his spine and directly out of his mouth, he squeezed his eyes shut and whimpered, mouth stuck open.

“Such a Good Boy…” She hummed again, the words only adding to his already insane sensitivity, acid began to leak out of his tail, getting caught by the rubber cap; each drop sending a shudder through his body.

“Uzi… please, Ah- t-take the cap off. T-touch the mmm~ stinger!”

His tail had been used so often to hurt him, it's sensitivity being one of his greatest weaknesses; and now he begged for it to handled.

She did as she was told, sliding off the cap and releasing the fluid from it's prison, the feeling of air hitting it made him tremble, he was seconds from unraveling-

Her fingers firmly gripped the thin stinger, making him throw his head back I'm complete euphoria, mindlessly grinding his hips into her like that would increase the friction in any way.

For the first time in a long time, he cursed aloud.

“FUCK!” He shouted, the canister on the end of his tail beginning to build pressure as she stroked the stinger, gasping breaths and incoherent sobs quaking through him as he begged her not to stop.

“H-holy shit… you were not kidding when you said it was sensitive.” Uzi grinned, being gripped hard by him as the pressure within his tail grew and grew until. It snapped-

“UUUZZIIII!~" AH-" She clamped a hand over his mouth as he screamed, his tail suddenly spraying acid into the wall of the nest, emptying the entire thing in less then a second.

He collapsed into her shoulder, shuddering in aftershock after aftershock.

“Ooooh~” He moaned, much quieter this time since it was muffled by her hand. His tail continued to twitch in her grasp.

There was a lull in the moment, N being unable to move as he grunted and shook into her shoulder until his tail stopped twitching, Uzi brought his chin up to look at her.

“Are you okay?”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded dumbly, his brain complete mush and every part of his body tingly, he held her close, taking in as much air as possible. He didn't have any idea his tail could even do that…

“I love you~” He said after a moment of recovery, hand brushing the side of her face before pulling her in for a much less hungry kiss.

At least until he began to press his thumb into the glass covering of her core, which made her groan into the kiss and deepen it pulling him down on top of her.

“Your turn~” He growled into her audials, grabbing her tail and tugging gently, making her groans turn into quiet whimpers, and claws begin to desperately scratch at his back.

He continued rubbing her core, sliding a clawed hand over every bit of her surface, leaving shallow marks all along her chassis as he pressed harder and harder.

“N!~” She moaned his name, and it was then that he wanted to try something new too.

Using a delicate claw, he hooked underneath the glass covering, removing the panel gently to have full access to her core, Uzi's breath hitched when cold air hit her most sensitive part.

He kissed slowly down her neck again, reaching to where her core was furiously beating, his hands came to pin her arms above her head, and as he leant down, they made eye contact- a wordless question that was answered with a small nod.

He kissed the rim of her casing, teasing the new entrance he'd made into her body and she responded with a high pitched whine and a buck of her hips, static filling the sides of her vison as the overwhelming feeling took over her.

“S-shit~ N~” She cursed, completely trapped underneath him as he lapped at the edge of her casing, she hadn't a clue on how this would feel- but she trusted it wouldn't hurt.

His tongue dipped inside, swiping the organic covering of her core.

She found a pillow to scream into, seeing nothing but white as her core lit up with sensitivity. She kicked at him instinctually, but she by no means actually wanted him to stop.

He explored the inside, humming and groaning as she pushed his head down further, tongue finding wires and nerves that created new sounds with every press and prod of his appendage.

“Oh god~ Hah~ There is no f-fucking way this should feel good- OH!~”

He wrapped his tongue around her core, feeling the entire thing pump erratically as he touched it directly, she ground her hips into him desperately, both eyes glitching into hearts and drool pooling out of her mouth as he sucked and licked inside her.

“Nngh~ Shit! More! Agh!~ N! N!”

Her core grew brightly, it's beating reaching it's peak before she grew still, the flap above her core opening to reveal her port. The cable attached to his own having be released a long time ago.

They both pulled back, staring at each other, perhaps it had been a little too long since they'd done this- the intensity of it proving to be more then either of them expected.

He fixed the glass back over her core, keeping it protected, and leaving it with a small kiss.

“Ready…?” He wheezed, rechecked his firewalls to make damn sure there would be no… surprises this time.

“Yes. Yes please~”

He connected them, feeling the whole world melt away as two people became one.

Like it should be.

Like he almost wished they could stay.

They kissed once more, their connected systems creating a feedback so intense N nearly lost it right then.

I love you

I need you

I want to marry you

;Came pouring from his systems, tattooed in the space between her own code as he poured every ounce of himself into the ocean of purple code as he could, her display glitching between yellow and purple and his doing the same.

Tears filled her visor as she wrote back, thoughts and feelings and the essence of herself being shared without fear.

I would say yes

He came undone quietly, feeling the data stream from his core through the cable, most of it being rendered unusable as it crashed through his firewall.

Uzi arched her back as it entered her own core, getting quickly overwhelmed with it, sending her careening into reboot, sending N following after.

They collapsed, N having just a moment of prep to throw a blanket over them before he went into reboot…

Next ->

[bitethedevil]

I think that Raphael could be able to take over the Nine Hells.

“Raphael is biting over more than he can chew with his plans to take over the Nine Hells.”

“If the Crown of Karsus was so powerful why wouldn’t Mephistopheles have already used it?”

*Puts on my tinfoil hat* shhhh, come here…hear me out.

If you’ve read the Annals of Karsus, we know that there are three artifacts that are known as “The Regalia of Karsus”. There is the Crown, the Orb, and the Scepter and they are ‘the physical embodiments of Karsus’s wizardry’. Each of the three artifacts have their own power and purpose (this is directly quoted from the Annals of Karsus):

“The Crown of Karsus: to attract and absorb magical knowledge and give the wearer dominion over himself so that he remains his own entity apart from the Weave.

The Orb of Karsus: a storage device or battery that condenses mystic power, ever-gathering so that it must be syphoned at intervals of its excess.

The Sceptre of Karsus: an instrument of projection, a focusing utensil for the precise wielding of unimaginably vast forces.”

We know where the Crown has been: In Mephistopheles archive and later stolen by the Chosen Three.

The Orb?: Sounds a lot like what Gale deals with, but from what I can read, people disagree about whether that is the Orb of Karsus.

The Scepter of Karsus, though, is heavily hinted at to be owned by Raphael. I don’t have the exact quotes, but if someone does feel free to share them. The archivist says something about a scepter that is like the crown being in the collection and I believe Helsik talks about Raphael collecting Karsite artifacts.

If Raphael DOES own the Scepter of Karsus, it makes even more sense why he is so pissed at papa Meph. He owns an incredibly powerful magical artifact of ‘unimaginably vast forces’, but he isn’t able to actually use it and wield it because Mystra would stop him in a heartbeat. He needs the Crown to separate himself from the Weave to actually use it.

Let’s quickly talk about another Scepter from Netheril: “The Scepter of the Sorcerer Kings”. Its purpose was to strip the power of gods and banishing their influence from Netheril, but the guy (not Karsus, some other really powerful wizard) never completed it because the Netherese gods stopped him. The scepter, however, could not harm deities that had magic within their control (such as Mystra). But we can all agree that this all sounds very similar to the exact same thing that Karsus would attempt years later? The Scepter of Karsus and the rest of the Regalia of Karsus was even more powerful than The Scepter of the Sorcerer Kings since it could not only steal the power of Mystryl but also transfer it to the wielder.

Let’s go back to the Hells. Mephistopheles keeps the Crown in his vault and doesn’t use it for a millennium. Why? We have established that the Crown absorbs and attracts magical knowledge, and it also separates the wielder from the Weave. The Crown in itself seems powerful, but as many have also said about Raphael, it hardly seems enough to take down Asmodeus in itself.

What if…*adjusts my tinfoil hat* What if the Netherese truly learned nothing and history repeats itself as always, and it is in fact these mentioned ‘unimaginably vast forces’ of the Scepter that is the key to overthrow gods and steal their powers, and not the only Crown. The Crown simply assures that the wearer’s magic is out of reach from Mystra so they can do whatever they want, and it grants knowledge. Meaning, if Raphael has at least both the Scepter and the Crown, he could steal Asmodeus’s powers and go through with what his father could not achieve because his mischievous little son has been holding onto Scepter that is necessary to even wield and project those powers. He would become be the ruler of the Nine and gods know what else. It's not entirely out of the question that he might even have the Orb as well, seeing as we aren't really sure if Gale's Orb is the Orb.

Again, the Crown absorbs and attracts magical knowledge and it’s the key too using all of this naughty magic that Mystra doesn’t want you to mess with, but it does not seem like it actually gives you a whole lot of powers. It essentially just makes you know about it. What if the truly nasty stuff lies in the Scepter? It seems at the very least that the Scepter is necessary to truly harness and project the powers of the rest of the Regalia with any sort of precision.

(If you have any additions or corrections to my insane ramblings, feel absolutely free to add them and I’d love to read them)

[broodingheroine]

tmagp7 thoughts

WRESTLING WITH TAPE RECORDERS AND MANILA FOLDERS??? immediately with the references wtf

celia don't be curious abt the computers

CELIA STOP BEING WEIRD

she def knows who's in the computers

SHES LISTING THE FEARS WHAT THE FUCK

"you won't need to know about tma to enjoy tmagp" yeah okay what the fuck is this then

HILLTOP?

is derek chambers a name I should remember. check this later.

can't remember his name 👀

shouting human face? wtf

also lol bumbling new volunteer who has nothing on his resume but is punctual and hardworking. not martin coded at all.

another name they can't remember

lowkey giving the anatomy students episode of tma

BEARSKIN RUG??? SKIN????

the items are definitely cursed right

more forgotten names and lost paperwork 🤨

it's REALLY giving anatomy students

taxidermy. hm.

also kind of breekon and hope taking over breekon and hope vibes

so hoarding

GUNSHOTS????

fire..... hilltop....... hmmmm.........

security organization.......

THE VOICE THREW YOU

CELIAAAAA YOU KNOWWWW

THOUGHT YOU RECOGNIZED IT AAAAA

SHES TOTALLY FROM THE EYEPOCALYPSE

colin :)

JON???? FUCKING JON????????? WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

the real stuff???? what the fuck colin

colin ur paranoia is showing

COLIN WHAT THE FUCK

go gwen! blackmail ur boss!

SHE SHOT HIM?

oh he's not dead? ohhhhhh

SHE GOT PAID TO KILL A GUY?

GWEN WHAT SOURCE WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT

bouchards old money confirmation?

REAL WORK?

EXTERNALS LIASON? WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

NOW I HAVE TO WAIT A WEEK??????????

god okay so

is the oiar secretly the security team that burned the hilltop place down? that's obviously what the external liason will be right. but then what would the response department end up being?

colin is devolving extremely quickly and im deeply upset about it. no "outside" electronics. as opposed to...?

once again: EMAIL FROM JON???? what did it say. what was it about.

"you don't need to know anything about tma to listen to tmagp" yeah BULLSHIT like I'm sure you don't NEED it but it certainly HELPS

gwen going to lena is giving the archival crew confronting elias abt murdering leitner except gwen has dubious morals and is unapologetically in it for her own gain

which I do appreciate. a protagonist who's willing to admit she's in it for herself and nothing else? love.

I do question whether the oiar office work is done purely as a front for whatever lena is bringing gwen into or if it does actually serve a purpose.

like I said up there somewhere, celia is definitely a transplant from the tma verse. there's no way she's not.

okay I think I'm done? that was a lot..... like a lot a lot

so I think I'm gonna go lay down and die now