#so take your time if you wanna read it

[silenzahra]

❤️ Without him 💚

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

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

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

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

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

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

TW: Blood, injuries, mourning, character death

✨ AO3 LINK ✨

Click to keep reading down below 👇🏻💖

❤️ Without him 💚

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

Or perhaps sunlight never reaches this cursed area.

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

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

His heart feels heavy on his chest.

It’s all been a lie.

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

Mario is dead.

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

He just wants to mourn his beloved brother in peace.

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

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

Nevertheless, his throat...

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

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

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

But the Boos are stronger when they are united.

Mario didn't stand a chance.

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

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

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

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

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

Until the last second of his life.

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

Especially Mario.

Never in his life had Luigi felt so useless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

And also, perhaps, to lessen the guilt.

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

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

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

Because of him, Mario is dead.

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

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

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

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

Not that it helped him much.

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

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

Mario was dead all along.

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

Mario wasn't expecting the ambush.

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

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

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

Where had these ghosts come from?

“Let go!” he yelled, enraged.

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

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

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

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

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

But the Boos were not done with him.

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

The huge Boo was hurtling towards him at full speed.

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

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

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

He had to warn Luigi.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

If he’ll ever be able to forgive himself.

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

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

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

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

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

What will he do now without him?

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

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

The only thing that could.

“Lu?”

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

But he cannot believe what he sees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But it's still a smile, after all.

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

“Lu,” he says again.

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

Mario's ghost.

His heart skips a beat.

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

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

Like when he was alive.

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

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

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

He’s the worst younger brother in existence.

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

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

Alive.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Those damn Boos!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“The one I'm about to finish off!”

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

He was doomed.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, overcome by tiredness and thirst, Mario stumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

Mario jumped and opened his eye with a start.

“Luigi?” he muttered, panting.

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

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

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

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

And Mario could do nothing to prevent it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luigi.

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

His incredible, agile and intelligent twin brother.

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

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

He had no time to wallow in his pain.

Mario got up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Solid. Firm. Real.

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

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

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

And Mario squeezes back.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be great.”

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

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

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

Luigi almost has a heart attack.

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

Mario chuckles.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is yours.”

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

“I wrote it for you,” adds Mario.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But, for now, it’s enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was no longer in the world of emptiness.

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

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

A door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He wasn't about to let that stop him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You're alive!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn't care.

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

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

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

He needed to embrace his beloved brother.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Lu.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it's all his fault.

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

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

Only to protect him.

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

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

“It's all over, Lulu.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, but I fell for it...”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the lucky one, of course, is Luigi.

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

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

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

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

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

He’s missed him so much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“That would be very nice.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

After all, he’s finally with him again.

[bread--hood]

Arthur Morgan ▪︎○▪︎ Red Dead Redemption 2

[satoruxx]

hi! just letting you know at the time of writing this (Aug 5th) that there is a user who is crossplatforming at least one of your works to wattpad. their username is ohmyjung . not entirely too sure if you gave the greenlight to allow this, but my works are also there and i was not notified beforehand. just wanted to let you know !

hi lovely !! thank you so so much for letting me know bc i absolutely did NOT give the green light for this :(( i literally have it in my rules that i don’t allow reposts ugh this is so annoying

i went through their account and saw that there are so many fics they’re posting from authors here on tumblr and it’s very upsetting. and saying that the only reason they’re doing this is bc tumblr is too disorganized like just learn how to use tags appropriately wtf????

anyways i'm so sorry it happened to you too and thank you sm for letting me know !! i’ve gone on their profile and commented asking them to take it down so hopefully they listen…

also moots and any other writers who see this you guys should check this account out and make sure your stuff isn’t being taken. even though they technically “credited” the og authors it looks like they haven’t asked for permission or even considered whether we’d allow this or not !!

[killjoy-prince]

DAYBREAK MENTION FOR THE FIRST TIME IN 65 CHAPTERS!!! BABYGIRL I MISS YOUUUU

[pigeonclaw]

the amount of times I have potentially controversial opinions that I type up and then save in my drafts forever because I still feel them but am too shy and afraid to choose violence in any way

[xxplastic-cubexx]

Thinking of baby erik from the infinity comics again and my god why was he so fuckin. UGLY. silly baby…….

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

AFTERMARE WEEK: day 3- light and heavy

a wedding ring; usually made of gold, platinum, or silver. it's given by one partner to the other as a symbol of commitment

such a small and deceptively light object should not be very heavy, but that does not prevent it from holding the crushing weight it's promise implies.

aftermare week is hosted by @bluepallilworld

[kurosagihater]

Idk who i should say this to but everytime i see ritsu be it in the game or in tl i would always have this urge to squish both his cheeks with my very own two hands like, i need to release this cute aggression or else i'd go crazy. "According to article something something–" proper name place name backstory stuff now do you know you’re the cutest in the whole wide world? No? I'll gladly remind you that every second of your life. Please? Please let me do that for you. Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please ple

[clegfly]

stupid sketches of @dannybobany 's marzenie au because it's so fire man... colouring this is a pain so I'm just uploading the sketches but!!!!!!! here!!!!!!!!!! them!!!!!!!!!!!

i wanted to draw the scene of sol's stained glass window in the church and this was my idea of what it would look like. since the church and marze kind of represent basil's blind hope for sol's (or parallel, sunny's) return, i feel like it would also internalise basil's blind bluff of "something" being responsible for all their problems, even though he knows deep down that isn't true. the space in general just kind of embodies basil's purposeful ignorance and attempt to push the blame onto something non-existent, as well as playing into the religious trauma aspect of it and feeling "lied to" by the church or that things are exaggerated in the bible and its teachings, and that being reflected by the church "lying" in the sense that it's portraying something as "pulling the strings" in a way. its better to believe that than the alternative. and of course he blames himself too because... can't be sunny's fault at all in any way guys trust!!1!11! and also basil's tendency to self hate and blame himself for everything

i have a lot of ideas for this au in general since its so fun and abstract ESPECIALLY concerning the entities so i may take to yapping about that later but uh. yeah. have fun with these!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[yallmakemyassitch]

Chapter 1 - Insomnia (I'll Never Leave Your Side)

Summary: AGOTI is woken up by a nightmare and seeks comfort from his adoptive father. Solazar doesn't hesitate to attempt to make his child feel better but realizes the only way he can is quite... unconventional. Even after doing so, the night was filled with wonder as the two embark on an adventure...

Word count: 10,764

Character count: 60,904

Tobi talks: This was meant to come out much earlier so apologies for the late upload folks, I had to do some extra proof reading and corrections. This is a passionate project that took nearly two years to create (created back in 8/30/2021) and it's still ongoing! You won't have to wait such a long time as I have spent time on future chapters as well so those will be published much sooner rather than later. Be aware that just because this chapter is void of anything graphic or disturbing does not mean future chapters will not have mature themes present. Please enjoy the story and I thank you wholeheartedly for reading~♡

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49247710/chapters/12426553

A love letter to the ENTITY crew and its creator @sugarratio1

✿

✿

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Vigorous winds blew within the small confinements of the city and it had everyone cooped up in their homes to escape the harsh weather. It was booming and traveled well into the night, spilling into everyone’s nightly routine as the tiny town quieted down. Life had become stagnant, branches were pulled by the wind, and small puddles accumulated on the roads, undisturbed by the lack of roaring vehicles that would quickly cause them chaos. Contrary to popular belief, thunderstorms weren’t as aesthetically pleasing to everyone.

Inside a humble house inhabited a family of three, both children of which were fast asleep. One struggled, however. He was the youngest out of the nest, squirming in his sleep to try to escape the uncomfortable heat taking over his body. The digidevil child, Agoti, had patterns of sweat stitched into his forehead. With his blanket held hostage, he had no clue where his consciousness had taken him.

“Get away…” He mewled, turning on his side.

Agoti’s dream was shrouded in black, himself being the only thing visible in his nightmare. But there were voices, impish voices taunting him . The child couldn’t even begin to think how the tormentors he met only a day ago got into his head. But that wasn’t very important as they belittled the digidevil, mocking him even more when he began to cry. No matter how frantically he searched for the source of the voices, they couldn't be found.

“Leave me alone!” He cried one final time.

Tears were beginning to leak from his eyes, his whimpers soft and anguished. Agoti fell to his knees and curled up into a ball. “Daddy...Aldie…help me.”

But nobody came. That was soon to change, Agoti was jolted out of his nightmare by the loud clap of lightning. He wrenched up from his bed with an audible gasp. The moment he opened his eyes, he felt afraid. The fear bubbling in his chest built up into a scream he shrieked into the night, his high-pitched and terrified wail muffled by the natural boom of thunder.

His eyes were wide with alarm and what would normally be rivers of salty water spilling from his eyes were strips of VHS film. He was in shock, sitting erect and still from the raw terror circulating his body. The images of his nightmare cycled through his mind and the violent thunderstorm distressing him more as the seconds ticked by drove his quivering lip to release the cries building up the painful lump in his throat.

The toddler’s weeps were loaded with whimpers and snotty hiccups. He tried so desperately to palm away the tears streaming down his face, but alas, they did not relent. His hazy vision stared into the darkness of his bedroom, flinching every time lightning struck and momentarily showed the stark white interior of the room before reverting back to black.

The glowing stars plastered on the ceiling above his bed brought him no level of comfort. Agoti's gaze flickered next to him to his tear-stained stuffed bear. Without hesitation, he grabbed the animal and sought protection under the covers. His face was buried into its soft fur while fresh, hot tears ran free. His sobbing was uncontrollable, squeaking when lightning roared outside as he could never brace himself in time.

Like many young children, Agoti would have trouble sleeping in the dark. His beloved father had noticed his struggles and gifted the boy a nightlight to help soothe him during the night. But right now he couldn’t handle it alone.

The digidevil waited for another minute, anxiously anticipating the sound of the door opening and being met by the gentle glow of his father. Or if he was lucky, his older sister would come through and snuggle under the sheets with him. Both options sounded lovely, so he waited. It soon became apparent after a few minutes none of that was happening. It was only a muffled rainstorm and teddy bear as his friends during this dire time. Terrified to death, he lifted his head out from under his sheets, his hot cheeks streaking with tears.

He wouldn’t get anywhere by calling for them again, the outside cacophony made that feat impossible. The 4-year-old, with shaky hands, slipped off his bed and plopped down on the carpet, leaving his animal friend behind.

Even at his young age, Agoti was unusually small, he couldn’t reach most things that children his age could. Most of what he couldn’t reach was doorknobs, so his father was committed to leaving the door ajar for him to leave at night less a situation similar to his current or if a late-night bathroom break was needed.

He stuck his hand in between the gap and slowly opened the wooden door, grimacing as it moaned along its hinges. Agoti peeked out slowly, feeling an overwhelming sense of dread that made his blood run once in contact with the darkness outside his room.

With this new revelation, Agoti knew he wouldn’t be able to enter the corridor without any… ‘reinforcements’.

The stars above his bed replaced the general use of his nightlight by a long shot and he didn’t have to use it much anymore. But he did keep it and remembered leaving it in his drawer. He turned his attention back inside to the piece of furniture on the other side of the room. The demon walked up to it and sorted through the top section of random junk, eventually hitting something firm and around.

He grabbed it and felt along its side to flick it to life, holding it with both hands. Agoti had to squint when its warm light hit his eyes but adjusted well enough to make out its features. Silk silicon layered the rotund exterior and two ears poked out the top to give it the authentic look of a rabbit.

He left the comfortable quarters of his bedroom after assuring himself his father was just down the hall. Unfortunately for him, he had unluckily directly stepped on a weak floorboard. The sharp squeal made the digidevil jump a foot into the air, snapping his head down so quickly it made him dizzy. Realizing it was just the floor made him sigh out in relief, not doing much to quell the anxieties that prickled at the nape of his neck.

Agoti began to trek down the hallway, it felt much longer than what he experienced during the day. His senses were running on overdrive, acutely aware of every sound surrounding him. Each breath that entered and exited his lungs, the rapid clattering of rain on their roof, the creaking sounds along the floor where he walked, all served to make the experience as sinister as possible.

Then he heard it.

A creak not from his own doing, coming from just behind him.

Agoti whipped around, holding the nightlight right in front of him. He hesitated but ultimately approached the weak floorboard where the noise had resonated.

There was nothing there.

His vision was superior to most species compared to his, but even he struggled to see what was in front of him. Agoti focused and scrutinized the darkest depth of the hallway, seeming to stretch infinitely from where he was standing.

He looked a little harder and that’s when he dropped the only thing that could protect him. He swore he saw a figure move in the dark.

Agoti grabbed it from the ground and quickened his pace, his little feet pattering across the ground. It was enough to finally make it, his hand trembling as he knocked and didn’t dare to move the light hovering over the patch of darkness. The wait was agonizing and the more he glanced back, the more threatened he felt, like a looming presence was steadily approaching him each time he briefly looked away.

Agoti knocked harder, beating his small fist into the wooden door, crying out for his father. The demon could only hope the man would come sooner. After all, who knows what was really in this hallway?

…

The chamber’s only nuance within the stygian and static environment was a bizarre blue figure sitting quietly, holy light shedding from their body. The man with every rapid and accurate keystroke of his fingertips connecting with the keyboard occasionally stopped to sip his coffee. The black kind was his favorite, it being his number-one assistant in getting through the hazy nights made of nothing but raw work ethic. But if he was feeling generous, he would add some cream or sugar to it.

The man lived this lifestyle for numerous decades and it still caused him to call into question how he got here. Sure, he could recall the precise events that landed him as an Earth dweller. But they felt so surreal, it was such an abrupt shift from who he was then.

That didn’t stop him from adapting, however.

Whilst taking out another paper to file and beginning to write on it, he stopped mid-stroke of his cursive handwriting. Solazar began to think, his thoughts were interfered by a flood of memories. It was practically routine at this point for him to take time out of every day to reflect.

Solazar descended from an ancient race named the Solarisapiens, densely populated with murderous, god-like star entities. They were the next of kin from the gods themselves and what they would do struck terror throughout the universes. And after eons of bloodshed, one of them suddenly becomes a father of two. If it had been during war, his high social standing as a commander created to lead these bloody crusades would sink to the furthest level. Solazar would be looked down upon and ridiculed, distinguished with a flaw that hadn’t been noticed by their oversight; it wasn’t in their programming to care about mortals. The brutal punishment afterward was something he had only personally witnessed, but it left an impression on his fellow warriors if they dared to be so incompetent in their purpose. He did train them to be merciless and obedient, but to be reduced to such putty was a fault he held against himself. Their fate was sealed the moment their betrayal came to light. It didn’t happen often but when it did, certain procedures would be initiated.

The ceremony that took place was meant to purge the warrior of the humanity they gained, to give them a second chance. But at a cost.

The Solarisapien would have their limbs dismembered and every single one of them was catapulted out into the deepest, most treacherous parts of the universe. They may only return after regaining the members of their body, to prove their loyalty to their purpose. Those days were cruel but over, the war was ended, and while the blood on his hands had washed away, he reminds himself often they haven’t faded. Not yet at least.

Solazar was aware of the risks of fathering mortals. He had grown fond of them and their antics, he had grown to even love them. This was despite his specific design created for being an unfeeling monster, Earth somehow changed him in such a way he had the ability to love. Solazar accepted their fates a long time ago; everything would die eventually, he just wouldn’t be a part of it. For each day the sun still shines, he would cherish the chaos and laughter his children have brought into his life.

Solazar despised self-pity, but even he had to admit his own fate was the worst out of any painful way to die. He is forced to walk along this mortal plane, created to fight for all eternity, and no longer supported the reason for it, so what were his goals now? The death of his children would strip him of his purpose as a father, foraging a path down an existential crisis-

What was he doing?

There were better things to worry about.

He blinked once, snapping him out of his trance, and realized the tip of his pen left stiff by his hand accumulated a glob of ink on his sheet, leaving a noticeable stain on his pristine handwriting. Solazar rubbed his eyes, sighing deeply. He blinked again, now putting down the pen to massage his face with both of his hands.

‘Goodness that stings,’ He thought to himself.

Needle-like sensations have been shanking into his eyes for the past several hours. Staring so hard at his screen because he was so adamant about his work wasn’t healthy. Yet again, he disregarded his doctor’s warning, it was no wonder why he was farsighted. Short spurts of shut eyes did the job of replenishing his drive, so the fiery being leaned back in his chair to take a deep breath and closed his eyes.

Infinite energy meant the man didn’t sleep, so ever since he crashed onto Earth, he would spend his time running errands. Even though the specimen was quite intelligent, it landed him a not so revered job as a music manager. The man admired music, how humans were able to craft a piece made with skill and passion was a beautiful thing to him. Unfortunately, many of the clients he had to work with have proven themselves as either incompetent in their jobs or bailouts. With his constant failures, it made creating a profit difficult so he would often live paycheck to paycheck. It was just enough for his children and their home so he didn’t dwell into it.

Solazar pushed himself back to give the desk and himself some space in between them. He folded his hands together and placed the interlocked hands on his lap after crossing his leg over the other. He closed his eyes and started to softly hum, mindlessly humming to no one in the room other than himself. It helped him relax.

That’s when the former warrior was interrupted by thumping on his door.

“Hm?” He pondered aloud, looking behind him to lock eyes with the wooden door. He knew exactly who it was based on the squeamish pleads on the other side. Solazar, with steady haste, got up on his two feet and opened the door. His gaze instantly dropped to the ground to see Agoti, his youngest, at his heels. Before he could react, the small child dropped what he was holding and hugged his leg, crying.

The incomprehensible blubber sputtering through his lips caused the man’s hardened gaze to soften. Agoti looked up at him with big, glossy eyes, stretching out his little arms and grabbing at the air, beckoning the man to hold him.

“Did the storm wake you?” He spoke in a low voice and kneeled down in front of him, opening his arms to give him access to his embrace. The demon was quick to fall into his arms, bawling so hard he could hardly say a word.

He nodded quickly, “M-mhm.” the toddler whined, clutching onto his torso. “I had a... *sniff* a really bad dream.”

“So you had a nightmare?”

“Uh- *hic* huh. I was scared, Daddy. No one was there…”

His father’s eyes slit into a sympathetic gaze and pulled the demon closer into his arms, “Shhshh, it’s okay. I’m here for you.” he hushed, slowly rubbing his back.

The warmth he had ached for crowned his body in a soothing heat and his nerves strayed once his flesh made contact, reminding him of the familiar buzz that came with his father’s touch. Solazar stayed there for a while, patting the back of his head while continuing to calm him down.

The child’s shivering slowed down to a halt when his body melted from the affection. He glanced at the glowy object on the ground and picked it up with one hand, holding Agoti in his other arm.

“Ah, you used the nightlight I gave you.” He mused, inspecting the tool in his hand.

He nodded, still sniffling.

“That’s alright, I gave it to you for a reason. Do you like it?”

Agoti seemed to hesitate before nodding his head again.

He peered at him, consumed in thought before speaking up. “Maybe it could be brighter next time?”

“Mhm.” He heard Agoti mumble into his chest.

“Then I’ll look for a special one, just for you.” The Solarisapien gave him a tight side hug, which had Agoti’s face squished up against his.

The warmth he had ached for crowned his body in a soothing heat and his nerves strayed once his flesh made contact, reminding him of the familiar buzz that came with his father’s touch. Solazar stayed there for a while, patting the back of his head while continuing to calm him down.

Solazar flicked it off and left the nightlight where it was, and stood up, holding the toddler as he walked back inside his room. He closed the door behind him and sat down on his unused bed and placed the digidemon on his lap. The room had been nearly pitch black at this point, minus his blue flames and still-illuminated laptop at his desk. He reached his hand toward the nightstand to pull the string hung under the hood of the lamp and gave it a tug, now able to properly see him.

“So tell me about this nightmare of yours.” He questioned calmly, looking thoughtfully at his adopted son.

“It was the b-boys from the playground.” Agoti mewled, “T-they were h-hurting me and-” he began to cry again, recalling the terrifying dream. “They said they would hurt me if I told anyone!” The Solarisapien quietly listened to his dilemma, stroking the top of his head to calm him.

“It was only a dream, okay? Anyone who tries to intimidate our family will have to go through me first,” He said assuringly, however, Agoti didn’t take much of a liking to this.

“They sounded like monsters and were really scary! D-don’t you remember yesterday?”

Solazar did in fact remember yesterday, it was an especially terrible day for Agoti. He managed to get cornered by two older children while at the playground with his sister. They went as far as to get physical and destroyed his favorite toy in front of him. This was the first time anything like this had ever happened to him, so it gave him quite the scare. Luckily Aldryx eventually found him and terrorized them both into submission and managed to escape before any on-sight parents got involved.

Solazar admits the outcome would have been much better if he was present, his poor son came home sobbing and he had to promise to get him another toy to stop the tears. But as expected, the parents of the bullies would come to his door, complaining about their ‘innocent’ children coming home mysteriously bruised. Solazar wasn’t having any of it and proceeded to verbally rip them to shreds, insulting every part of their subpar parenting, and with a wave of his hand, dismissed them off his property.

He tried to sympathize. "I remember, Agoti, and I know it was scary, but-”

“NO YOU- *hic* don’t!” Agoti started to fuss, his cries intertwined with a hiccuping fit. He mewled after his outcry, putting his face in his hands as Solazar rubbed his back.

“I do know, Agoti.” Solazar uttered, gingerly thumbing a tear off his face, “Try to calm down, okay? Breathe for me.” he said it in the softest tone he could muster, but it barely helped.

“I tried to find you but I couldn’t!” Agoti sobbed.

As if the situation couldn’t escalate anymore, the 4-year-old began to hyperventilate. Solazar could feel his VHS heart pounding against his ribs repeatedly. At this rate, the digidemon would have a panic attack.

“They said they would- they said they would- *hic* hurt me! And you weren’t there! *sniff* I-I thought you had forgotten about me.”

This struck a chord within him. “Agoti, I would never…”

“They said they would take big sis a-away from *hic* m-mehe.” He buried his face into his chest and lamented his sorrows. “I-I don’t want y-you and A-Aldie to go!”

His father only had to think for a second to know what to do next. Agoti’s distress after a nightmare wasn’t uncommon, but this time was especially bad. Anything he said to try and soothe him was a trigger word to his panic, he would have to approach this would a lot more grace. Solazar held onto his son’s shoulders to push him back, exposing his tear-stained face to him. His fingers brushed against his cheek and with his hand, he softly caressed the smooth skin. His index finger moved beneath his chin to angle up and have their gazes link, held together by his thumb. Solazar’s pure white scleras gently stared into his wide, terrified ones.

“Breathe, Agoti. I’m not going anywhere.” There was a ring in his voice that grabbed the attention of his son, gentle but firm in his words.

The digidevil ogled obliviously at Solazar, his words quite not processing.

“Follow my lead.” he demonstrated, his chest rising and falling as breathed deeply. Agoti stared at him for a while before attempting to mimic his actions. It took some effort through all the tears but not long after, his breathing evened out and he found himself synchronizing with his father. At this very moment, the pair silently bonded as his nerves were tamed and put to rest.

The room was quiet, save for the soft breathing and gentle praises from Solazar to keep going. His method of calming the child was successful, he wasn’t crying anymore and the film was hanging loosely from his eyes. The Solarisapien plucked off a strip and peered into the black squares, seeing from his perspective the void that his child was plunged into. He tore the rest away, grazing his hand over his face and creating a small pile of film onto the carpet below them both.

Solazar wrapped his arms around him in a loving embrace and said to him. "Listen to me when I say this, Agoti, I will always be with you. There’s no way I could leave someone as sweet as you behind.”

“Really?” He sniffled, a flicker of hope flashing behind his eyes.

Solazar raised a brow at the rhetorical question. “Do I really need to answer that?”

Agoti’s soft giggle hung in the air as he was lifted into the air under his arms, spreading a smile onto the Solarisapien’s face, his eyes curving to show the affection brewing behind his glasses. “Hehe, I don’t think so?” He giggled. He was placed on his lap again, to which the digidevil snuggled into his chest, listening closely to his father.

“You don’t ever have to be afraid of me leaving you. I would never do that to you, my child.”

“You promise?” The demon whispered, peering up at him with even more hopeful eyes.

The Solarisapien’s shoulders shook as he chuckled deeply and lovingly at the silly question. “Yes, Agoti, I promise.”

He held up his pinky, eyes glistening. “Pinky promise?”

Solazar held up his own. “I promise.”

There was a moment of silence between the pair.

“I love you, Daddy.”

He pressed his cheek against his forehead affectionately. “And I love you.”

Solazar readjusted the boy, laying him into the crook of his arm, and began to gently rock him. Agoti laid still, relaxing his muscles, and ascended to a sort of heaven with the coziness the heat gave. Solazar placed his hand on top of his head again and massaged each one of his tendrils, taking his time with each one to let his son know just how much he cared about him. To send this point home, his deep voice coaxed him closer to the cliff of slumber as he once again mindlessly hummed a berceuse.

The past warrior was massive and radiated warmth, so Agoti took it upon himself to take advantage of it and used him as a heat blanket. Agoti felt more than safe, he felt loved by the man that was carrying him oh so gently. Little did he know, Solazar was already aware of his neat little trick.

He would ‘coincidently’ pass out in places he knew his father would come across, the most ludicrous spot he discovered him in was the bathroom sink. It was all a ploy for Solazar to attempt to wake him up, fail, and eventually tuck him into bed himself. His father knew from the start what he was doing, he could even feel his chest quiver with suppressed giggles, proud that his plan had worked out so many times. Sometimes he would even peek an eye open to see if Sol was giving him the attention he desired. It amused him but he couldn’t find it within himself to point out the adorable quirk.

He stood up. “Let’s get you to bed now, alright?”

Agoti went stiff and paused, shocked that they had to depart so suddenly, “Can we please stay here?” he begged.

Solazar shook his head. “No, Agoti. You need to sleep in your own bed.”

“Pleeease? I don’t want you to go…” He whined, clinging onto his shirt tighter.

“No means no, Agoti.” He understood the child’s fear but also understood the child would have to get used to the dark eventually.

The digidevil’s expression turned sour and he puffed out his cheeks. Agoti’s calm breathing began to waver and his whines were quickly escalating.

Solazar sighed. “Don’t make that face, Agoti…”

Agoti pouted even more, his expression souring by the second.

“No!” He cried.

“What-”

“I’m not leaving you!”

The toddler grabbed handfuls of his turtleneck sweater and clung to the black fabric. Solazar was sure he was gripping hard enough to where he didn’t even have to hold him if he stood up. He quickly sat down again and hugged the digidevil just in time for him to let out a loud wail onto his chest. Sobbing ensued.

‘Goodness…’ he thought to himself.

Agoti was a stubborn child, once he believed something, it took a lot of convincing to reverse the effects it had. He was grieving at the thought of his father abandoning him. He would never of course, but his son’s recent nightmare clouded his innocence with pessimism. The only logical solution would be to inflict the opposite. Make him feel good about himself, cheerful even, but with what? A warm glass of milk? Retelling his favorite stories?

Solazar’s brainstorming landed him in the middle of yesterday where this whole incident started. Of course, Agoti was still very upset but then it jumped to later in the day with his sudden change of mood, he was acting like himself and graced anyone he was with a beaming smile. He found this very strange as not too long ago, the boy was distraught and now he was back to normal. What caused such sudden optimism finally jogged his memory into remembering why…

Oh no.

In practice, it could be very effective against Agoti considering his sensitivity to touch that came with his age. It wouldn’t be very hard to dish it out. If you were to ask Solazar about performing the action, however, he would call you ridiculous.

This activity that Solazar was so unsure about was tickling.

Aldryx, his older sister, had gotten tired of Agoti’s constant moping. He would drone on about how upset he was until she couldn’t take it anymore. Aldryx chased him down, and the duo scampered all around the house loudly enough to simulate an earthquake. None of Solazar’s warnings to tone it down stopped them. Once Agoti was cornered, instead of their usual roughhousing, she ruthlessly tickled him until he agreed to stop talking about it. The Solarisapien very vividly remembers the laughter and squealing that came from behind his door.

It persisted until the deal was made official, albeit breathlessly on Agoti’s part. After that, the younger demon continued his daily hijinks like nothing had ever happened.

That was until tonight, he was still haunted by the day before. Solazar wanted to feel frustrated, all of their best efforts have led to naught and even his sister couldn’t stop it from persisting. He stopped himself once he realized what he was thinking and stopped himself in the middle of his foolish thoughts. Was he really going to insinuate a 4-year-old was at fault here? He had no one else to go to other than his family, they lived in a world where anyone could be taken advantage of, a foreign concept to Solazar. However, Agoti had just experienced this firsthand a day before. He could only imagine what it was like and felt a sudden tide of compassion for the small boy.

He wasn’t well adjusted to give physical affection despite the years they had been under his custody. Sure he would hug them and overall, tried to be the father they needed. Tickling was even rarer. Majority of the time it was unintentional and he would be left confused why his daughter or son was giggling up a storm when touching them in certain places. Sometimes it was purposeful but was brief and lasted only a few seconds as a response to his little one’s mischief with a small bit of his own. Solazar either way was apprehensive at the idea, making Agoti uncomfortable was the last thing he wanted. He heard his muffled mewl, aching with sadness and wrought with pain. Finally, the man spoke up, he couldn’t bear to see his son so distraught any longer.

His arms were already wrapped around his body which could prevent him from squirming away. Solazar didn’t have much experience with the activity but knew along the torso solicited the biggest response. He mindlessly scribbled up his side, his massive hand could reach the entire area so no part was left untouched. The reaction was immediate, Agoti gasped at the sudden touch, which didn’t stop the fit of soft but bright giggles bubbling out of him. He did it again with his other hand, causing the boy to attempt to squirm away from his hand. The next spot he didn’t expect to be targeted was his back, he traced along the center of his spine slowly. Agoti arched his back with a light squeal, finally showing his face to his loving father as he expelled a flurry of happy giggles, shivering at his gentle touch, and looked up at him, confused but smiling.

“Pahapapa, what ahare you- eheehee!” The digidevil’s query was interrupted by another wave of bubbling laughter, this time much louder. The Solarisapien was stroking up and down his back with his entire hand, each digit crawling up and down his spine like a spider. It was sending fuzzy, warm feelings in his chest, so he didn’t hold back his laughter.

“Just relax, Agoti. Let me take care of you.” He sounded suave and mellow, not helping the fact he was being held against his will. Solazar picked up the boy and laid him down on his lap, keeping his body facing up.

Agoti wiggled on his thighs, tittering with anticipation and a giddiness he hadn’t quite felt before. “Dahahahaddy! Eeeheeheehee!” The boy was giggling like he was still being tickled, which confused the Solarisapien for a moment as he hadn’t touched him yet. It made him slightly chuckle in response once he realized why he was giggling so much.

“I’m guessing it's my hands doing this to you?” His children weren’t lying when they said his flames made their skin feel funny.

“That tihihickles!” Agoti cried.

Solazar patted the top of his head. “Don’t worry, I’ll be more gentle this time.”

He resumed his tickling, mostly letting his flames do the work, and only slightly grazed his fingertips over the torso, mostly targeting his back and sides like before. This left Agoti in a never-ending snorting mess as the warmth sent shocks of ticklish sensations up his body. The digidevil was squirming from left to right, never leaving the safe spot his father had placed him. Although he secretly enjoyed it, the instinct to protect himself by wrapping his arms around his body never faltered.

“Mweheeheehee *snort* ahahahahaah!” By then, the child was face down, still giggling up a storm. Warm fingers were tracing random shapes up and down his spine, eliciting the biggest response out of the boy. Solazar’s stern expression softened, gazing at his son with admiration and delight. Making his way to his lower back, he teased the skin where the shirt rode up from all the movement. Agoti wheezed and his laughter turned silent before he returned to his hysterical fit, sounding even more childish with a hint of femininity now that his voice was so high-pitched.

The Solarisapien’s eyes thinned, the bridge of his nose wrinkling as the invisible smile returned to spread across his face. The spot seemed too much for him as much of his laughter was starting to sound too breathy, so he slowed down. He calmed down, giggles still sputtering out of him and laced with unintelligible babbles for mercy. Using the other, he began to tap the side of his ribcage, the fabric of his shirt moving as he gently dug into the bones. With the size of his hand, five fingers were able to press into his entire side of bony flesh while the other hand titillated off his back. All ten of his fingers were doing their job of keeping the boy in stitches, belly laughing with his whole heart, Solazar could feel his stomach rumble and shake with unfiltered mirth.

“AhaHahAhah mweheHEHhehe- *snort* p-pahAhaHapa!” The demon howled, slightly kicking his legs. From where Solazar was, he could see the corner of the child’s wide smile.

“Do you need a break?” He asked.

“I doohoohoo! I dohoho!” The digidevil cried.

Solazar stopped and removed his hands, giving the boy time to recover from the tickling. He wasn’t outright gasping for air, but he definitely struggled to keep it stable. Agoti flipped onto his back to rub his eyes, removing the stripes of mirth that threatened to fall out. His smile was gleeful and his cheeks were a lovely crimson tint. The aftermath was pleasant, the tingling was not only present on his torso but throughout his entire body, reaching the tip of his tendrils to the top of his toes. It left him feeling purely euphoric.

“Hehe…ehehe…” He tittered, his energy was being depleted at a moment’s notice.

“Are you alright?” The digidevil looked at him with sleepy eyes and nodded slowly. His demeanor was exhausted and tired, but his tail was curling happily at the treatment he had received. Agoti moaned softly, worming his way into his chest.

The Solarisapien, without skipping a beat, carefully scooped him up and held him close. This night was.. longer than he expected, normally Solazar would already have the toddler in bed by now. But he thinks this night was needed, for the both of them to be together. He made sure to make the transition to the corridor as smooth as possible, swiftly getting up and closing the bedroom behind him in one fluid motion. With half-lidded eyes, Agoti’s blurry vision made it hard to see, but what was quickly made apparent to him now that they were in the hallway. His father shined brighter than ever, standing out from anything else in the corridor. Solazar began his stride deeper in, his glow bouncing off the walls.

Time slowed down as the pair traveled across the rooms, they were in no rush so Solazar took his time. They had made it and his father pushed the door open where it was left agape. Solazar stepped inside and began to slide his fingertips over the wall, guiding his hand to locate the light switch. Upon contact, he flicked it to life.

Solazar grimaced and squinted hard as he rubbed the burning that returned in his eyes. It didn’t help, he really needed to take a break after this. Once his vision came into view, it made his environment finally observable.

Unsurprisingly, the room looked as it had always been, but disturbed from what he could tell from the disheveled bed sheets. The walls were painted in pastel red and blue stripes, decorated with stickers of spaceships and stars, along with the mild scribbles that Agoti had drawn all over. There was even a box of toys in the corner of the room well over the max as other ones were scattered about the carpet. The shelves were occupied with books all about his favorite things, with one dedicated solely to his stuffed animal collection. Then there was the lone rocking chair placed in the corner of the room next to the window, masked by the dusty ruby-red curtain. Solazar didn’t really need to use it since his son’s infancy but left it there for old time's sake.

He made his way to the small bed and laid the demon on the mattress. He then pinched the corner of the comforter and draped the fluffy material over his body.

Solazar deeply stared at him with a certain gaze that would only belong to a father deeply fond of his children and stood up to leave.

He looked back at him. “Sweet dreams, Agoti. Rest well.”

As his hand lifted off the mattress to make his departure, a gentle tug pulled on his sleeve.

“Um, Daddy?” He heard the meek voice of Agoti say.

Just his luck.

“Yes? What is it?” Solazar sighed, kneeling back down.

Agoti tugged at his sleeve more, gesturing Solazar to lean over so he could say something in his ear.

“Can you sing me a lullaby?” He whispered.

Solazar thought for a moment and pulled down his sleeve to look at his watch. 1:48 AM. It was already extremely late and that could lead to some trouble falling back to sleep. Thinking about it more, a lullaby made a lot more sense; it could serve as a sort of encore to their already chaotic night.

“Sure.” He says.

His skills with the piano gave him a lot of time to practice his own singing too. All too often he was interrupted and teased by his children for it. Nowadays, both of them loved to serenade in music and often joined their father.

Agoti’s eyes lit up with joy, “Yay, papa’s singing!” he rhapsodized. His previous exhaustion seemed to vanish out of thin air and was replaced with his typical energetic self. Children were…odd. One moment they could be at the edge of passing out and the next they are seen bouncing off the wall, it was funny honestly.

The Solarisapien pulled the demon out under the covers, the comforter slothing off his body in the process. Solazar held him as got up and sat down on the rocking chair. He pushed aside the curtains and spread the blinds between his fingers to peek and looked up towards the sky. He hadn’t realized the thunderstorm had passed up until now, although many thick clouds had been left behind.

“Do you hear that?” Solazar said, still looking out the window.

“Hear what?”

“The rain, do you hear it?”

Come to think of it, he didn’t hear it anymore. He hadn’t realized when it stopped.

Solazar turned his body towards his window and pulled the string attached allowing them both to see the outside completely. The numerous clouds didn’t flood the sky anymore, occasionally dripping and enriching the dark sky like a great big canvas, acting as an impromptu portière to the doorway of the waning crescent that stood on the other side. Once exposed, it filled the sky with its eternal glory.

He pulled down his glasses to get a better view. Their view of the moon didn’t waver, Solazar was especially fixated on its beauty.

This gave him an idea.

He turned to his son, fixing the prescriptions back onto his eyes. “Agoti, I want to show you something. Something extraordinary…”

The cryptic tone caught his attention.

“Like what, papa?”

Solazar leaned in. “Something enchanting I know you will like.”

There was a solid three seconds of silence before Agoti stammered out excitedly. “I-is it magic?!”

Influenced by fantasy and the like, he would answer with that. “You could say that.”

His already bright and cheery smile widened and the anticipation warping his excited nerves morphed into butterflies flapping within the bowels of his gut.

His train of thought was interrupted when something bright brimmed in his peripheral vision. He looked directly at whatever it was but immediately had to look away as it was shining so brilliantly. Agoti had to squint to make out what it was, eventually making out the shape of his father's hand, now a glowing glob of light. Solazar snapped his fingers, triggering the glow to dispel, echoing around them with such bass, it startled him.

The digidevil’s eyes were wide with alarm and he hadn’t realized he was holding in his breath, itching for something to happen. Just as he was beginning to breathe, a sound resonated that he didn’t quite expect; a twinkle. The twinkling gradually grew, crystalline diamonds manifesting and briefly ascending above them before disappearing.

His time to process what was happening was cut short after a beacon of pure light engulfed them. When Agoti opened his eyes, their surroundings were now consumed in white, the only exception being the more pasteled variant of his father. Agoti looked down at his own body to realize he looked the same and this new environment had completely changed his natural color pallet.

A breeze formed under them and seemed to push them upwards as the more the winds increased. Agoti was about to ask Solazar what was going on when he noticed himself beginning to float. It was slow and hardly noticeable but when he did, he saw the way his clothes would air around his body, similar to a blanket in the ripples of gentle wind. Or how his short tendrils became independent of just resting on his scalp.

The digidevil was hardly off his lap but after some movement, he discovered he could move around the white space like a pool of water. He had fun experimenting with this new gravity, spinning, and doing all sorts of tricks as if he were a simple lost boy, ageless but youthful. Agoti, upside down, grasped his father’s face and joyfully greeted him, “Hi daddy!” his tail curling behind him with elation.

Solazar played along, allowing him to grab onto his glasses, “Hello, my child. How are you doing tonight?” he responded warmly. While still upside down, Agoti sloppily put them on, amusing the star being into a chuckle.

“You look silly without your glasses,” He simpered.

Agoti giggled when his nose was softly booped by his finger. “I beg to differ, little one.”

There was a noticeable pickup in speed, throwing off the demon since he was already adjusted to the new atmosphere. He found it harder to move in the empty space, stuck in his now upside-down position. Solazar did the honors for him and grabbed his shoulders to pull him back to his original position.

“That will happen the closer we get to our destination, just be sure to hold on.” Solazar said after he reclaimed his glasses. The demon pressed his face against his chest with a grip on his shirt and shut his eyes. Another shockwave pulsed through them as the new wave of speed was brought upon them, moving so quickly, it felt like they were traveling at light speed. Agoti whimpered, the feeling of his shirt whipping against his body made him realize just how quickly they were traveling. He fluttered his eyes open, fearful at first but dazzled by the way Solazar’s flames burned. It possessed a fierceness that would crumble his foes to their knees, he felt inspired by it. Like a candle in a snowstorm, it was on the cusp of burning out but its tiny blaze was determined to keep the night shining.

Then it all stopped.

His ears were no longer overburdened with fast winds and chimes akin to a chandelier being spun ceased to exist. The demon didn’t dare to open his eyes, afraid of what he might see. But of course, Solazar was there to mediate his fears.

"It’s ok, you can open your eyes now.”

The way his voice sounded surprised the toddler. His soft inside voice was replaced with a resounding chime as if they had traveled inside a cave.

"I-I don’t wanna look!” He whined.

“You will be fine. It isn’t anything that will scare you.” Solazar spoke with an assuring, confident voice.

Agoti, hesitant at first, obeyed his father and barely jarred his eyes open. But through the thin window of his vision realized there was no imminent threat, which finally gave him the courage to open them both completely.

He gasped loudly and a wide grin slowly crept up his lips…

“It’s- it’s space!” He gushed, his voice booming with astonishment, “How can we breathe? Aldie said there’s no air!” shouted Agoti, unable to contain his excitement.

Solazar lightly shrugged his shoulders. "You could say I brought a bit of home here with us.” Agoti didn’t question it and was still in awe, again not realizing he had been holding his breath this whole time.

He bounced with excitement. “I’m gonna tell everyone about this!” His enthusiasm for space was really touching and Solazar was honestly very flattered by this.

“Do tell, I’m sure your sister would be delighted, but on another note,” He cleared his throat. "You might be confused about why you’re here right now, yes? ”

“A little,” he responded.

“This place is peaceful and full of wonder, somewhere I visited where I needed to clear my head. When you would have trouble sleeping at night, I would bring us here to sing to you,” He was speaking faintly but fondly as he remembered the sweet yet chaotic times when the demon was just an infant.

Agoti was quiet for a moment. “I don’t remember that?”

“You were so young, nobody would.”

He pondered and glanced down at himself to see if he still possessed his pastel palette. It was gone, replaced by a shimmery aura that bounced off both his and his father’s bodies. Continuing to look around, everything he took in was so unfamiliar. Just somewhere in the cosmos, he guessed. None of the planets were from their own solar system and neither were they in one, but the planets dispersed about were close enough for them to personally observe. Around them were a multitude of worlds ranging in all colors and sizes.

Even the suns nearby looked remotely nothing like theirs. That wasn’t the only thing there, stars were obvious but from afar did Agoti see these sort of cloud-like accumulations of colorful speckles. Nebulas of course! He remembered that from the books he read with his sister and would definitely have a story to tell once morning arrived.

He looked to see his father gazing up at the space, eyes glinting with fascination.

“Isn’t it beautiful?”

Agoti’s quick babble was all he needed to know he agreed with him.

“What’s that star over there?” Agoti questioned, pointing to one particular star. It wasn’t like the other ones where they glowed a color that would be anomalous to their solar system. It was anomalous to every sun around it, aqua blue and yellow swirled within its core like a cauldron having its contents stirred, its surface shining a seafoam green. Despite the bizarre coloring, it fascinated Agoti and he was instantly entranced by its alluring appearance.

“I’m not sure. Do you like it?” He asked.

“Yeah! Can we name it?” The boy was enthused, standing up to get a better view.

Solazar kept him steady by planting his hands on his hips, for a few moments, he thought of a name for this unknown star. “Maybe Cerulean would be a good name? It goes well with the blue.”

“It’s perfect!”

There was always something new to see no matter where he looked. His adoptive father could indeed relate to this feeling.

Agoti for the next several minutes pointed out every detail and squealed over each new discovery to his father. He let him rant about it, he would get tired eventually. And as if on cue, a wave of exhaustion crashed over him. The digidevil felt his eyelids get a little heavy and his body’s muscles began to go limp at an unprecedented rate. He plopped back down before leaning back into his body.

“Dad I’m…tired,” He said in between a loud yawn.

Solazar pressed a finger to his intangible lips. “Shhh~ You’ve been awake long enough, close your eyes.”

Agoti’s eyelids succumbed to its weight, quicking shutting close.

“That’s it, just listen to my voice… ”

He lightly brushed his knuckles against his hair. He knew just the song to sing and looked forward to finally bringing his boy peace, just as he did all those years ago. Solazar's deep voice became smooth as he commenced his serenade, sounding much more divine as his cords echoed despite the heavens they were in being devoid of oxygen.

…

♪ Come little children

♬ I’ll take thee away

♩ Into a land of enchantment

♩ Come little children

♪ The time’s come to play

The digidevil was immediately dragged into a state of calm, helped by the Solarisapien who sang so handsomely. His carol fills the quiet around them.

Follow sweet children ♩

I’ll show thee the way♩

Through all the pain ♫

And the sorrows ♪

Weep not poor children ♫

For life is this way ♩

Murdering beauties and passions~ ♪

Agoti began to stir when he saw something bright form behind his eyelids and opened them just a tad. He witnessed their surroundings suddenly filled with glowing figures of the sort.

His vision cleared just enough to recognize that it was musical notes materializing. They danced in the air, reminding Agoti of the copies of sheet music he’d seen his father playing. They were blue like his dad and seemed to serve some sort of purpose with his solo, playing the instrumental to the song for further auxiliary.

“Papa, wass tha’?” He slurred, his speech ruined with spittle and weariness.

“This is one of the many gifts I was given when I came to exist.” Solazar stopped singing to answer his question.

“You yourself will be blessed one day,” he rubbed the back of his head with his hand, “Now then, try to go back to sleep.” his voice was rumbling with how low he was speaking.

♬ Hush now dear children

♩ It must be this way

♩ Too weary of life

♪ And deceptions

♫ Rest now my children

♬ For soon we’ll away

♪ Into the calm and the quiet

A symphony of woos slowly began to reveal themselves and surround them, varying in pitch and length, all were quite feminine voices but there was an underlying manly voice behind their delicate chorus. Agoti could start to see figures of people fading in above and around them. They appeared to be the same species as his father. None of them had their entire body showing, ending around the waist, and faded into faint sparkles as the outline of their bodies connected like constellations. One stood out, the man behind the guttural singing and the biggest out of them all, muscular and imposing yet seemingly at peace. The notes pranced around the duo, moving accordingly in a hypnotic fashion. Solazar wasn’t lying when he said this was highly effective. The honeyed voice dripping with affection singing the sweet song in his ear and enchanted infinity called space took a toll, succeeding in shutting his eyes permanently. He could no longer see the forms of the ancient race or the notes as he had finally fallen asleep.

Come little children…♫

I’ll take thee away…♪

Into a land of enchantment…♩

Come little children… ♬

The time’s come to play…♪

“Here in my garden of shadows ♪”

The ancient species sang one last beautiful chorus, singing with more vigor and more passion at the sight of the mortal child resting in his caretaker’s arms. They were merely souls, however, apparitions of warriors who faded eons ago, forever roaming the cosmos in silence.

The notes faded away, along with the spirits who had long since perished, leaving him alone with his son. Solazar sighed and relaxed his shoulders. He wanted to admire the sight of his beautiful boy one more time, he stood out among all the beauty that surrounded them. But was unfortunately interrupted by their aura beginning to dull. Solazar pulled up his sleeve to quickly look at the time, reading 2:27.

They had overstayed their visit, it was time to go home.

Before the aura could fizzle out, he had already snapped his fingers to send them home. Everything from before happened in reverse order, catapulting them to the ground. Agoti somehow remained asleep, a soft smile gracing his already darling expression. Solazar would love to bask in it but was too busy holding onto dear life, keeping the chair's armrest well clutched and silently praying the seat wouldn’t crash.

Once that beacon of light had collapsed and revealed the carpet floor of his room, Solazar braced. Shockingly, the chair bounced off the floor with ease, launching them both in the air before going down again. The momentum knocked them forward hard and fast, so hard he nearly face-planted into the floor but digging his foot in the ground stopped it. Solazar’s eyes were wide and when he looked down at the small boy; he was somehow in a deep sleep.

Solazar stared at his sleeping face, his gaze fueling the core inside of him to swell. A wet line of saliva was leaking from the corner of his slightly agape mouth and he gingerly wiped away the spittle with his thumb. Words couldn’t describe how he was feeling, he just wanted to preserve the scene.

The ancient being stood up from the rocking chair holding him in one arm, using his other to pull back his comforter and prepare the area for his son. Slowly and gently, he laid the digidevil in the empty spot and covered his body over the sheet. He snuggled into the warmth, stretching before falling still back to his sleep. He grabbed his teddy bear and tucked it in next to him. He witnessed him leisurely pull it closer to him. The Solarisapien stood over him and bowed his head.

He took a seat on the corner of his bed, creaking as his weight pressed down on the bolts holding it together. Solazar reached for his face but was stopped by Agoti’s tendrils, who somehow sensed his presence and curled the short hair around his hand sweetly. How long he sat there he didn’t know, but eventually, he knew it was time for his son to sleep alone.

His hand was already on the doorknob and he swung it open before exiting. Outside his room, Solazar couldn’t have felt more relieved and slid his back down the wall before his bottom met the wooden floor. He leaned his head against the wall and took off his glasses, rubbing them against his turtleneck sweater, getting rid of specks that were a nuisance to his vision.

Then he heard it.

A creak not from his own doing.

He turned to his right and saw a pair of disembodied eyes staring at him from the darkness. The creature stepped forward.

It was Luna, the family cat. She was immediately purring and rubbing up against Solazar’s legs and accepted being scratched behind her ears.

“Hello, Luna.”

Luna meowed and rubbed up against him, her black fur felt soft against his legs.

“Why don’t we go relax?”

She meowed, signaling her approval.

…

With the sun creeping up the horizon, it cast red and yellow clouds in the sky as a new day began. Birds sang their melody of dawn, golden light striking the green trees. Tiny flecks danced around the digidevil’s bedroom while gold luster brightened the room. He did not stir, Agoti had never slept so well in his life, the blanket felt so warm and the pillow was soft enough to melt into. The only thing he could hear was his soft snoring and the chirping of birds. He could stay here forever.

Agoti felt a dip further down his bed, but he didn’t dare open his eyes. It was too perfect to ruin this moment.

“Son, it’s time to get up.” Solazar’s voice was nearly in a whisper. His son was a light sleeper, it didn’t take much to wake him up.

He groaned and rotated his body, encasing himself in more of his soft blanket. “Too shleepy…”

Agoti believed he had won and breathed deeply into the layers, taking in their fresh scent. He was left sorely mistaken however once he felt something move under his comforter and attempt to grab him. His father was trying to pick him up out of his bed and he wouldn’t let that happen.

“Nurrr…” Agoti mewled, burrowing deeper into the sheets, dodging the hands trying to grasp him.

“Are you not going to get up?”

“Nuh-uh.” He pouted, upset his morning slumber had been interrupted.

Solazar was silent for a moment.

“Suit yourself.”

What he did next was something he hadn’t seen coming, catching him off guard greatly as two hands tweaked his sides. Solazar systematically targeted his torso, following his son’s every moment so he could never escape and was always first to prod away at his body. Agoti tried to suppress them at first but the laughter piling in his chest was getting harder to ignore. The barrier broke and he let out a flurry of bubbling giggles, doing his best to squirm away from his father’s wrath.

“Agoti, you know how to stop this.” He heard him say but didn’t relent, he really needed his sleep!

“Nohohoho!” The demon cried, encasing himself under the covers to protect himself, which only left him more vulnerable. Solazar proceeded to tickle up and down his son’s torso at random, never giving him a chance to get used to the sensation before moving again. It had a significant effect on his dear boy, who by now made it obvious with his sputtering laughter and silly little snorts in between. Agoti still persisted but still made no effort to bargain with his father.

Sol could clearly see he had inherited his own stubbornness. But what he didn’t have was patience and his father for all he knew could be here all day if he wanted, gently tormenting his boy until he gave in. But with their limited time, it wasn’t possible and he aimed for the final blow. Searching under the cover a bit and eventually landing on what he was looking for, his digits wiggled wildly all over.

Agoti shrieked and the thrashing increasing under the covers indicated he had found what he was looking for.

“Not my rihihihihibs!” The digidemon cried from under the sheets. With all his thrashing, it finally led up to Agoti wrestling the comforter off of him, finally releasing himself from his hiding place. He pushed at his hands, laughing brightly.

“Are you going to get up?” Sol asked, continuing his ministries as the digidevil giggled for mercy.

“Yehehehes pahahapa!” His laughter became girlish as the tickling continued.

His exterior remained hardened and stern, but on the inside, he struggled to keep up the facade.

“And I won’t have to return to your room and do this again, yes?”

A squeal was ripped out of Agoti’s throat once his lower ribs were targeted, warm fingers glazing over his clothed skin.

“Yehehes dahahaddy! I prohohomise!” He didn’t have to wiggle around much longer as Solazar had ceased his playful punishment.

Agoti hugged himself once his hands pulled away and giggled as the residual ghost tickles slowly sunk into his bone, fading into his skin feeling stimulated and sensitive. From all the laughing he had been doing, he thought he would be exhausted. Strangely enough, all of his fatigue from earlier ceased to exist and he felt rather energized.

The Solarisapien adjusted the glasses on his face. “I’ll start cooking breakfast then. How do pancakes sound?”

Agoti’s face lit up in excitement, pancakes were his favorite. “Yeah!”

“You think you can get dressed on your own?”

“Mhm!” He hummed excitedly, looking forward to the flavor of fluffy, buttery pancakes by his father.

“That’s my boy.” He ruffled his tendrils and left the demon to his devices, giving him the well-needed privacy to get dressed. As he left the door behind him ajar, Agoti got to work and directed his path toward his dressers.

He found the perfect t-shirt and while he struggled to clip on his overalls at first, he succeeded and slipped on a pair of socks before escaping his room through the considerately cracked door. Agoti ran out into the kitchen, finding his beloved family and the delicious wafts of butter circulated the air and satisfying crackles of oil smelling of grease got him excited.

If there was anything better in the mornings, it was the sight of bacon and his father’s famous pancakes. His sister and father had their backs turned to him, all focused on the stove as the former warrior instructed his daughter on making the pancakes. Aldryx seemed frustrated but as usual, their father was patient, guiding his child through the steps until she cheered for joy at her successful pancake. It was only then the pair noticed the youngest’s presence that they turned to warmly greet him.

“Nice to see you joined us this morning, Agoti. You look well.” Solazar hummed, drinking from a mug and wearing a chef’s apron.

Aldryx looked and grinned at her little brother, revealing all her sharp sets of teeth to the toddler. She was sitting on the counter, holding a bowl of batter and wearing her signature pink nightgown and pink slippers, swinging her legs in blissful innocence. Even Aldryx was excited at the sweet breakfast the two were going to have.

The flaming male beckoned the smaller child forward and hoisted him up, only this time to place him on his shoulders. Agoti’s legs were twigs compared to the tree trunk equivalent of his neck and when he wrapped his legs around it, they fit perfectly around the nape, giving the toddler the perfect amount of support.

“Would you like to help us make breakfast?” He asked calmly, slightly turning his head to make eye contact with the boy on him.

“Uh-huh!” Agoti was bouncing up and down as he was brought closer to the stovetop. He was struck with the delicious smells of both foods cooking, even more, potent now that he was closer. Solazar did the same with Agoti as he did with Aldryx, slowly teaching him his ways while lightly scolding him if he ate the raw batter. Time slowed down and the household was filled with laughter and chaos as their hijinks persisted.

All of a sudden, Agoti stopped, still holding the spatula. “Daddy, can we eat now? I’m hungry.”

Solazar nodded his head. “I suppose so, go sit down and I’ll bring your plates out to you.”

“Yay!” Both cried in unison, Aldryx jumped off the counter and scampered off with her little brother, who was already climbing up to his booster seat. Dishes clattered and cabinets opened here and there and soon enough, Solazar was walking toward them with their food. They both said their thanks as their father placed the plates with the appropriate silverware in front of them, the duo donning beaming smiles before digging in. Their father sat down with them, but stayed quiet, silently watching them gulp down their food with half-lidded eyes.

Hardly any time had passed and the two children were already begging for another helping. The Solarisapien obliged, picking up their plates yet again to go into the kitchen where the rest of the food lay warm. Unfortunately, in the Entity household, it was never short of calamity. Aldryx and Agoti were already beginning to goof off at the dinner table, flinging specks of food caught by their placemats at each other back and forth. Both were quietly snickering, doing their best to not attract his attention and ducking under the table as a shield against each other’s attacks.

Solazar came back with their second meal and wasn’t surprised at the scene, their faces were peppered with leftover pancake and grease from their bacon. He stared at them and just smiled, placing the plates back down in front of them.

“Enjoy your breakfast, children.”

Needless to say, it was a great morning.

He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

✿

✿

✿

✿

Fin~

[yoosung-ah]

1. why is it even an option to not try lol. like, yeah, I didn't feel like being awake any longer anyway and would prefer to stress out my already-stressed-out bf. goodnight, Saeran

2. bro.. you can't just get on top of me like that, looking like an actual angel, when I was just gassed and have no idea where I am... gonna make me lose consciousness again looking all pretty like that

3. actual jumpscare. I usually love horror, but V you gotta give us a content warning for that kind of thing. Jesus

4. undoubtedly highly important information that V and his dark web hacker-for-hire can weaponize against us

I bet Rika saw him practicing his villain repertoire and rolled her eyes into the back of her skull. V also said Rika smelled like manure, and she said she's bored by having only him as company. love how these two actually want nothing to do with each other but insist on ruining each other's lives anyway

I might really have to attack this man. not even for the reasons most players would, either, but because if he wants crazy, I am more than happy to oblige given the current circumstances. maybe then he'll realize what's good for him. but since he's a pacifist: it's because you need therapy. there. now go put that secretly-loaded bank account to good use, love yourself, and get out of here before something truly awful happens. like, idk, going to prison

Chairman Han route when. everyone's like "where's the Vanderwood route at" but by the time we get more content, like a reboot, we'll be looking at Jumin's dad a different kinda way. we can fix him if we try hard enough

not a misunderstanding. I am unfortunately in love with you, just as I am with Saeran, which is why this AE pains me more than most. I even - like the unfaithful player that I am - told you that I liked you back in a previous call and didn't tell you off for being weird. let's not play coy now.

there's probably an uncomfortable and confusing tension in the house due to our shamelessness, and we should all - Rika included - just accept it before things get actually uncomfortable and confusing on day 3

[elegyofthemoon]

ok but do i want to actually sit and read through all the clockie animation stuff so i have better foundation for what i want to say? i guess

[bigcats-birds-and-books]

Books of 2024: THE HAUNTED BOOKSTORE by Shinobumaru, with art by Medamayaki and character design by Munashichi.

So I don't tend to read much manga, BUT: last year, I was trying to buy a copy of THAT WE MAY LIVE (an anthology from Two Lines Press) for a friend for Christmas, and Bookshop sent me the second volume of this series instead?? Which. Looked SO directly up my alley (hello: birdguy with black wings on the cover?? haunted BOOKstore?? "gateway to a parallel universe"??? yeah okay I'll bite) that instead of donating the book (like customer support said I could do, since they didn't want it back), I tracked down the first volume to give it a go, and then proceeded to mosey through them gently over a couple nights.

These were fun! They turned out to be just as Up My Alley as I hoped, they matched my current writing project vibes REALLY well, AND they were a nice break from heavy prose. Winning all around!

[ogdit]

So i binge read the entirety of dungeon meshi yesterday and the day before, and im gonna post a collection of some of my favourite panels, its not even all of them, because i took these from a server when i was live posting about it to them in the spoilers channel

Obviously spoilers under the cut