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bg-brainrot · 5 months

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To Be Known (Astarion x GN!Tav)

Featuring: Astarion x Rogue!Tav

Series: Fits into Love at First Knife, AO3 link here

Summary: Astarion reads a book and wonders what it means to be known.

Tags: Astarion's POV, POV Second Person, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Fluff, Comfort, Vampire Spawn Astarion, set in Act 3 but pre-Cazador, Astarion is Bad at Feelings,

A/N: Disclaimer up top: I'm not abandoning any of my other fic! Promise! Just trying to get over a tough month and get back into the swing of things :'D

Also, based on the quote: “To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to be fully known and truly loved is like being loved by God.” (disclaimer: I’m not religious, and I know this quote comes in a few different forms, but google told me about this version so I stuck to it.)

Word count: ~2.1k

“To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods,” Astarion reads aloud, to no one in particular.

A silence follows, wherein his mind repeats the words he’s just read, absorbing none of them. To be fully known and truly loved… The words don’t seem to stick.

Finally deciding that the sentence isn’t worth his effort, he tosses the book onto his bedroll with a groan. “What rubbish.”

Outside of this author's haughty approach to prose, Astarion doesn’t particularly care to think too deeply about what it means to be loved– especially by any godsforsaken deities.

He has only just come around to the idea of love, not that he’s said the word ‘love’ to you just yet. It felt too much, too heavy a word to carry considering all of the other burdens the two of you bore between you. But the idea of it? Well, he was warming up to it. And with every moment shared between you, he believes he may be warming up all the more.

But what does being known have to do with love? No, that concept has him pulling his brows together, getting up from his bedroll and putting distance between himself and the drivel that Gale had recommended to him.

That’s what I get for listening to the damned wizard’s tastes, he thinks, shaking his head slightly. Some philosophical prattle, just as verbose as he is.

But even as he stands, brushes himself off, shoves the book away to the furthest corner of his tent before he makes to leave, the question of being known never escapes him.

What does it even mean to be known? he wonders, now lost in thought as he emerges from his tent. How could anyone know me, after all I’ve been through… do I even know who I am anymore?

The idea hangs over him, trails him like a storm cloud as he begins stalking about the camp you’ve all set up in the outskirts of Rivington. He’s not sure where his feet are leading him other than away– away from the distasteful book, away from away from your knowing gaze, which would only pry his thoughts out of him.

Much to Astarion’s disappointment, the trail he takes doesn’t stop the winding path his thoughts have taken.

Have I ever been known? he wonders, vaguely registering the breeze in his hair and the distant sounds of running water as he travels further and further from camp.

Perhaps I was once upon a time, but I could hardly be expected to remember now, could I? The thought is bitter and unwelcome, though likely true. He brusquely swats a branch out of his way and continues into a bramble unrepentantly. Gods, how can he bring himself to care about something as trifling as nature when he’s quite busily lost in thought right now, thank-you-very-much.

Astarion releases a sigh as he finally fights his way into a copse of trees. Secluded, finally.

Alone.

With his thoughts.

Which won’t seem to quiet despite the soft chittering of small animals, nor the sickly sweet smell of flowers in the air.

Why are some pitiful poet’s ‘words of wisdom’ even bothering me? he thinks as he lowers himself onto the trunk of a fallen tree. What’s even the use in being known?

Astarion crosses his legs in front of him, watching with narrowed eyes as his boots press into the soft grass, crushing it easily. There is no use to being known, he decides as he presses harder with one foot and the grass is further flattened. To wish that is…

His foot twists down even more firmly.

Pathetic, Astarion thinks, lifting his boot back up to see his handiwork. The grass lies flat, thoroughly smashed by him. This world is simply about being the one who tramples, and not the one being trampled.

That thought oddly comforts him. He knows the push and pull of power well enough– this dynamic is second nature to him. Like an old, threadbare blanket, it wraps around his shoulders, providing no warmth, but plenty of familiar reassurance.

It’s moments later that the blanket is wrenched from him and he’s laid bare once more, under the startling sunlight of your attention.

“Astarion?”

Your voice pierces through his thoughts, and his instinctual answering emotions are new to him. Surprise. Elation. Relief.

The vampire had been utterly unprepared to hear your voice, convinced he’d found a spot away from you all. Convinced that you wouldn’t be here with your thoughtful gaze– not now, while he’s still busy sorting through a myriad of questions. But he still can’t deny the way he welcomes your presence.

He suspects that your perceptive gaze can easily catch that, despite the way his shoulder’s tense and the way his head turns away, his ears still tilt back toward you, ready for your next words.

“Astarion, there you are,” you say. He hears the same emotions he feels in your voice. How odd it feels to be mirrored by you. He can’t deny enjoying that either. “What’s the matter? When I couldn’t find you around camp, I thought the worst might have happened."

The man scoffs, trying his best to sound unaffected by your sudden arrival, refusing to meet your inquiring gaze. “And what, pray tell, did you assume could have happened?”

“We’re practically at the Gate, Astarion. Anything could have happened. Need I remind you what happened to Dribbles?” you respond, voice tight with worry.

Ah yes. The dead clown. “It will take more than a shapeshifter to take me out, darling,” he retorts, still refusing to turn toward you, now dutifully inspecting his nails.

You let out a small huff of disapproval. “And what about Cazador?”

“I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself,” Astarion replies, though the thought of being caught unawares by Cazador bristles at him. If he did get caught, it would be entirely Gale’s fault for lending him that book… He shakes his head of white curls and continues, “Besides, I barely got more than a few dozen yards away before you came chasing after me. I could hardly be in any real danger.”

When you sigh, he finally turns to face you. The expression you give him then isn’t frustration, nor anger– it’s an unusual mixture of worry and… joy? “I couldn’t help but chase. Would it be pathetic to say that I miss you when you’re gone for too long?” you respond.

He’s not sure he has an answer to that.

Especially when he feels pathetic for how light his undead heart feels at the statement.

Astarion drops his head, avoiding your gaze, and hoping you don’t catch the startled happiness on his face.

When it’s clear he doesn’t have a response for you, you change the subject as you close the distance between you, “So, what brought you out here?”

“Nothing,” he replies, too easily. You know it’s a lie. He knows that you know it.

“Nothing, eh?” you ask, finding a seat next to him on the fallen tree. “What about that nothing has you running into the woods?”

“I was not running,” he defends, with a click of his tongue. “I was taking a brisk stroll.”

“Fine then,” you relent, elbowing his arm gently. “What about it led to a ‘brisk stroll’?”

There’s no use hiding from them, is there? he thinks, leaning back on the trunk. “I’ll tell you,” he begins, staring out into a bush. “But only if you answer a question for me.”

“Anything,” you say, and he can feel your shrug on his arm.

“Who am I, really?”

You still. Astarion had expected no less. After all, it’s not an easy question to answer– even for him. He’s putting quite a lot of undue pressure onto you with the question, it’s selfish really… but he can’t help but want to be selfish around you.

So he lets the question settle into the silence.

When you finally speak, your voice is crisp in the muted sounds of the clearing. “Promise you won’t care for me any less after I answer you?”

Astarion snaps his head back at you, his mouth turning down in a frown. “Well that depends, my dear. What are you planning to say?”

“Promise?” you press.

As if he could care any less for you– he would have done so already if he could. “I promise,” he murmurs reluctantly. “Now, please, the suspense is really too much.”

“You are Astarion,” you start, reaching out for his hand. He cautiously places his in yours, unable to hide the twitch of a smile as your warm fingers lock with his. “You’re a beautiful, elven vampire, with silver hair, and red eyes. You’re talented, witty, and…”

Your voice trails off, and Astarion can’t help but wonder why you’d been so hesitant to answer. So far, he is loving this answer.

“And you’re an absolute arse at times.”

“Excuse me?” he gasps, moving to pull his hand out of yours.

You don’t release it, but you do continue, “You laugh at the misfortune of others, you steal, you lie, you cheat at games, you can be incredibly selfish.”

“Darling, are we certain you care about me after all this?” he grumbles, giving up on fighting your grip on him as your words wash over him. He knows all of this, of course, has been entirely unashamed of it all before… but it feels different when you say it. When you lay it out plainly before him.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, tugging on his hand gently. “Because all of that makes you you. And, personally, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

He blinks at you, confused on how you arrived at this conclusion.

“You are so unabashedly you, love. And I adore that. I know it might not feel like it after all you’ve been through… but you are still yourself. No one has been able to take that from you.”

Now Astarion stares at your intertwined hands, wondering if he deserves such impassioned, absurd words said in his defense. His voice comes quietly when he asks his next questions, “And how do I know that’s who I have always been? Who I was meant to be?”

You bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a soft, warm kiss before you continue, “Astarion, I don’t know what might have bothered you, but I want you to know that, no matter what it was, you’re amazing as the man you are. Whoever you were, whoever you think you were meant to be, you should be proud of who you are now. And… once we deal with Cazador, I hope you have the chance to rediscover that man.”

Astarion hadn’t meant this to be some kind of journey of self-discovery– really, he’d only been irked by the needless philosophy of the book Gale had lent him. But, hearing you say those words, it feels as if some weight has been lifted from his shoulders.

Worry, he realizes. Of losing who he was, of course, but also of being utterly, desolately unknown. Naturally he needn’t have worried because here you are, ready and willing to understand him. To accept and care for him, even while knowing him, flaws and all.

Maybe being known wasn’t such a burden. Not if it were by you.

“Yes, well,” he begins, suddenly unsure what to say to your earnest words. “Thank you for that, I think. Though, really, I could have done without all of the barbs. It feels like I've been struck by psychic damage.” Astarion gives a dramatic head loll, averting his flustered face.

You laugh and squeeze his hand. “Well, it’s a good thing I have no clue how to deal psychic damage, but I’ll be sure to get Gale right over if you need a good jostle to the brain.”

Gale’s done enough of that, Astarion thinks. But he doesn’t say so to you. Instead, the man simply shakes his head. “I’m quite alright. Speaking of the rest of those fools, they’ve likely begun to burn the camp down without us. Shall we head back?”

While the trek to the clearing had been filled with spiraling thoughts and matters of the self, Astarion finds that the journey back is filled with far more soft touches and kisses– Not that he minds.

In fact, he thinks with a smile, as you both walk together, practically falling into each others’ arms. Maybe this was who I was meant to be all along.

That night, once he’s settled back into his tent for bed, Astarion reads the passage once more, “To be fully known and truly loved is as if you are loved by the gods.”

Astarion is certainly no closer to believing in the gods’ willingness or ability to love him, but he could hardly care. No, he suspects that he knows what a god’s love is– after all, if you truly love him, fangs, scars, and all… well, that may very well be divine.

#astarion #astarion x tav #fanfic #astarion fic #astarion x reader #rogue + rogue #astarion fanfiction #astarion fanfic #astarion fluff #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #baldurs gate astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion is bad at feelings #astarion comfort #spawn astarion #astarion pov

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greentrickster · 1 year

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Okay, all you aspiring writers out there following my blog listen up, I’m about to lore drop something y’all may need to hear.

Now, I’m a Writer, capital letter and everything. It’s not my profession, it’s just what I am, simple as that. I’m thirty-five as I type this, and I’ve been writing for twenty-three of those years. Made the shift from someone who just does essays and stories and stuff for school to someone who Writes when I was twelve and decided, “I am going to write a Novel.”

Which I did.

Took me four years to finish, a hundred pages on Microsoft Word, single space, because that’s how long I thought it needed to be if it was going to be a novel.

And, y’all.

It’s bad.

Like, so bad.

Like, “I’m not even going to tell you what it’s about, only that it exists, this is a chapter of my life to be mentioned in passing, you will see no more, the way is shut, it was made by the dead and the dead keep it” levels of bad.

While I was doing this, I also wrote a lot of poetry. Some of that was okay. One of my ADHD powers is having a very good ear for both rhyme and rhythm, which is enough to get you labeled as the class poet in 5th grade.

You won’t be seeing any of that either.

It’s not on par with the novel, but like... no one needs to be exposed to my teen-years poetry with the knowledge that that’s what it is.

Being a 1988 model, I didn’t discover fanfiction until about 2006. I was eighteen. The first thing I wrote was an absolute crack!fic that people enjoyed at the time, but which none of you will ever see without accessing the dark web or something similar because I’ve removed it from the legitimate internet. In fact, maybe just kind of treat anything of mine that I wrote before 2010 with extreme caution. And, even then, it’s not until 2014 that we get to my works that are still online which I look back at and go, “That? I’m still really proud of.”

It wasn’t until 2015/2016 that I started seeing myself not as someone who wanted to be a writer, but who already was one.

And it wasn’t until I was a decent start into writing my second mega!fic in 2020 that I looked down and realized that I might be writing something really special. Something that I was so proud of that I didn’t care that it was fanfiction, I was willing to talk to random people about it, because I felt so good and confident about what I was writing.

And that’s actually the point I’m trying to make. When people like me say, “Oh yeah, I’ve been writing for twenty-three years,” it’s not a statement of “Lol, I’m better than you, I’ve been at the top of my game forever, you’ll never catch up.” It’s a statement of, “Writing is a cumulative activity. If I’m good now, it’s because I’ve been doing this for a very long time, maybe longer than you’ve been alive. Look at where twenty-three years of work and practice have gotten me. And, much more importantly... think about where you are right now, and where twenty-three years of work, practice, and life experience will get you.”

Because there are a lot of young writers who I would absolutely consider my equals, don’t think I don’t see you there on AO3 and other places! And that’s what I always wonder when I think of how old you are compared to how old I am. Many of you are so much farther along the path of honing your skills than I was at your age... how much farther along will you be when you’re my age? Keep working at it and you’ll only get better, gain more polish, shine brighter. So many of you are already gems, and it’s my very dear hope that I’ll get to watch you become stars.

#writing stuff #writing advice #writers

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fellshish · 7 months

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just felt like letting you know im makin my way through your spn bookmarks on ao3 and its saving my life 💚 do you have an ultimate-nothing-compares destiel faves from the bunch?

YES omg these are the fics that rewired my brain changed my life etc:

And this your living kiss (M, 56k): au where dean is a self deprecating former poet who used to write anonymously under the pen name jack allen. Now he’s finding his way back to loving poetry by taking a class at a college taught by professor novak… only he doesn’t know professor novak happens to be the number one jack allen scholar in the country. Amazing. Inspiring. I’ve reread it several times and it’s probably my favourite fic of all time

The cheapest room in the house (E, 89k): one of those fics whose writing i’m jealous of, it’s mind bogglingly good. And hot. The destiel grindr fic — cas downloads grindr and dean helps him. The rituals are SO intricate. But really, nothing i could say could do justice to how good this is.

Fenario (E, 47k): cas empty rescue fic. Certain paragraphs and scenes are just seared into my brain, amazing writing. I still think about “Cas’s legs give out and he pitches forward, falling the rest of the way into Dean’s lap in a mockery of a pieta” — that’s the point where i knew this fic was gonna become a fave

Right where you left me (E, 93k): cas comes back from the empty but it’s years later. He rings the doorbell and finds dean married. This fic was an event while it was still updating. Supremely well written and with an emotional maturity needed for the theme

Am I a man or am I a muppet (G, 7k): one of the funniest fics i’ve ever read. Dean wakes up as a muppet. Just roll with it! It’s crack, sure, but so good?? This inspired a scene in one of my gomens fics even

Burn this into your brains forever (E, 10k): to me this is an underrated fic for how funny it is. Fake dating between dean and garth but don’t worry, it’s a destiel fic

Half empty (M, 37k): more of a dean study. Reads like you’re dreaming and nothing makes sense. Dean is confused about everything. Kind of a mysterious vibe, excellent writing

There is rest for the wicked (G, 14k): sleepy, domestic dean. The destiel happens so…. Idk. Naturally. It’s a fic that really stays with you for a long time

Ninety one whiskey (E, 401k): one of thee destiel fics of all time. It’s famously a must-read and for good reason. A war fic, so quite heavy and not for everyone. But an absolute experience. I read the last few chapters in bed middle of the night tears streaming down my face. Simply iconic

A winter’s tale (T, 64k): this fic forever changed the way i see cas’ human arc on the show. Not super destiel-y but can be read that way. Again quite heavy. Northernsparrow is an excellent writer.

The dean winchester beat sheet (E, 144k): au where dean is in college and in complete and utter denial about his sexuality. So supremely funny. I will say this dean is not for everyone. But to me he is iconic and i think about certain scenes still. Forever changed the song i want to break free for me.

What has eight tentacles and isn’t allowed to eat pie? (T, 16k): basically uhhhh dean gets turned into an octopus. HEAR ME OUT. This fic will change you fundamentally as a person. It’s funny but also smart. A classic!

Maybe it really is the end (M, 2k): it’s short but there’s not a word out of place. Basically, belphegor taunts dean and cas while in the body of jack. It’s so good and so underrated. I think about it all the time

How a grocer watches dean pull his head out of his ass in seven days (E, 51k): destiel written from an outsider pov, a christian lady who’s easily scandalised and whose narrative voice is SO hilarious. One of the funniest fics i’ve ever read. Fake dating too!

#destiel #my asks #destiel fic recs #fells book club

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storiesoflilies · 4 months

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⋆ ˚｡⋆ lily’s whimsical summer event ⋆ ˚｡⋆

have you ever dreamt of the faraway milky stars and the salt of the deep ocean, my darlings? perhaps you could sit here with me for a while, and we could dream together…

status: open

hello my darlings! i have decided to do a little collab event to celebrate reaching over 300 followers <3

what is the theme? well… the theme is all about travelling to that whimsical universe in your head that inspires you to create wonderful things.

my all-time goal has been to write pieces that transport readers to another place, even if it’s only for a little drop in time. some of my best work is born when i listen to music that fits the vibe of what i’m trying to write or when i see artwork that inspires me.

RULES & HOW TO ENTER

᭞𓇼 this space is 18+ only! so minors, absolutely do not interact!

᭞𓇼 please do not write about/draw any characters who are minors, and no aging up/time skips!

᭞𓇼 i don’t mind dark content, so long as it doesn’t contain any of the following: r*pe/non-con, explicit physical abuse, bestiality, pedophilia.

᭞𓇼 this event is open to any fandom, and not just jujutsu kaisen!

᭞𓇼 this event is open to writers, poets, artists, and any and all other creators. you can even create moodboards or playlists if you’d like! there is no limit to what you can create here <3

᭞𓇼 send me a dm or ask to take part, and tell me what song/artwork/poem (or whatever else) has inspired you to create a new piece.

᭞𓇼 please please please tag me in what you guys create, and use the tag #Lily’sWhimsySummer

᭞𓇼 the deadline for applying is the 30th of September!

᭞𓇼 i will always reblog and add everybody who takes part to this post, so come back here to check for new content!

᭞𓇼 it would be really great if everyone who sees this could reblog and boost this post so it can reach more people to inspire! i don’t mind you guys tagging people you think would be interested in this either.

MASTERLIST

my inspired whimsical darlings:

᭞𓇼 ‘abalone’ (tojixreader) by @bungalowbear / inspired by the painting ‘lighthouse hill’ by edward hopper - coming soon!

᭞𓇼 ‘strawberries and spilt milk’ (tojixreader) by @muzansslxt / inspired by a playlist and bridgerton.

᭞𓇼 ‘goblin market’ (sukunaxreader) by @ffsg0jo / inspired by the poem ‘the goblin market’ by christina rossetti - coming soon!

᭞𓇼 ‘the ballad of nevermore’ (gojo/toji/sukuna/getoxreader) by @ffsg0jo / inspired by the book ‘once upon a broken heart’ by stephanie garber - coming soon!

᭞𓇼 ‘in heavy mist, in glitter dusk’ (sukunaxreader) by @pinknipszz / inspired by the song ‘girlfriend’ by hemlocke springs - coming soon!

᭞𓇼 ‘sugar and seaglass’ (gojoxreader) by @madaqueue / inspired by the song ‘sweet/i thought you wanted to dance’ by tyler the creator.

᭞𓇼 ‘now you’re a stranger, but i’m still july’ (kafkaxreader) by @neptuneblue / inspired by the song ‘august’ by flipturn – coming soon!

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crowleys-bentley-and-plants · 2 months

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Forgive Me

I’m sorry for the words I left unsaid

For the silence that bloomed in their stead

I am the autumn leaves that promised to stay green

But turned to gold and crimson

And fell quietly to the ground

Forgive me, for I am the sea,

Sometimes gentle, sometimes raging,

My tides pulling you close then casting you away

From me

Again

And again

I am the unfinished letter, the ink smudged by hesitation

The words trembling on the edge of honesty

But never finding their way to my lips

I am the shadow that followed you

Uninvited

Lingering where I should have shone

I'm trapped in the spaces between your steps,

A silent witness to paths never taken

A reminder of moments left unexplored

I am the clock that ticked too slowly,

Then too fast

Robbing us of moments we thought were endless

But were really only whispers

Fading like the memories we chase and forget

I am a broken compass

Promising direction but spinning aimlessly

Lost in its own confusion

Guided by the chaos of its own design

I am the unstruck match

Brimming with unrealised potential

A warmth that never kindled into flame

I am the poet fumbling for the right words,

The artist with colours but no canvas,

The singer with a song caught in their throat

So forgive me for the love I offered in fragments,

For the heart that beat in uneven rhythms,

For the touch that sometimes felt like a caress,

Other times like a ghost passing through

Forgive me for the gaps where your trust should have been,

For the space I filled with absence

For the hesitations that wove distance between us

Forgive me for the moments when I was not enough

For the way I let my uncertainties

Wipe clean the promises written in the sand

Forgive me for all I was and all I could not be

I am trying with every breath

And for that, I hope, you can find it in you to

Forgive me

Just once more

I promise this will be the final time I ask

im gonna be honest with you. i hate it. idk. ive been rewriting this poem for a week now and idk maybe one of the first versions was better but it's lost now. so ive decided to post this so that i wont go crazy editing the shit out of it lol

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated💙

Read also on ao3:

bonjourr @crowleys-hips @bearthewhipsandscornsoftime @fearandhatred @ghostsparrow @eybefioro @seven-stars-in-his-palm @ficreader500 @foolishlovers @sabotage-on-mercury @crowleys-curl @crowleybrekkers @goodomensafterdark @notagoodlad @lickthecowhappy @goodoldfashionednightingale @spookyllamatree @wanderer-main @ineffabildaddy @wibbly-wobbly-blog @marika-misc @captainblou @weasleywrinkles @chaoticgayomens @amagnificentobsession @thebookshoparoundthecorner @quintessentiallychemical

let me know if you want to be added or removed

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens poem #good omens poetry #original poem #good omens 2 #good omens season 2 #go2

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ganymede-princess · 5 months

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Midnight At Noonday | Dead Poets

PART 2 | PART 3

ship: Surprise! x fem!OC

warnings: none... yet (muahahaha)

summary: Clare Keating is given the opportunity to attend the prestigious all-boy's preparatory school Welton Academy. Boy-mad and in denial, she must navigate friendships, crushes, and academics, all while helping to run the school's underground poets club.

word count: 2949

a/n: Hi guys, this chapter was originally written in third person, but I changed it to first person. I have read through it MANY times to ensure that the pronouns all make sense, and used control F, but it seems that some continue to slip through the cracks. I am very sorry if any mistakes remain after I have posted this notice. (Also this was originally published on AO3!)

written by @ganymede-princess

There would be no flowers for Welton’s first female student. The only welcome I received was a short paragraph at the end of the Welton annual letter including my surname and the promise to any concerned parents that the faculty would not let my presence distract their sons from their studies. I was to keep my head down, study hard, and make no sudden moves, lest I be transferred to Henley Hall, leaving my father behind. I don’t offer you this position lightly, Miss Keating. Mister Nolan’s voice plagued my thoughts. Don’t make me regret where I place my faith. My breath seemed to catch on a thorn in my throat, and I lost my grip on my heavy suitcases that thumped to the floor on either side of me. My vest was scratchy, blouse stiff with too much starch, blazer too thick around the neck and boiling hot, skirt too long, shoes too tight… I thought of my father down at the gates, ‘holding the fort,’ which no doubt meant fighting for my thin claim to a place in the most exclusive boys’ preparatory school in the United States; pleading my case, charming the parents, dying inside.

“That’s the Keating girl!”

The raucous hallway chatter trickled to a whisper as the boys drew in around me.

“Yeah, from the newsletter.”

“You sure?”

“Who else could it be, dummy?”

I tore my eyes from the floor to see dozens of boys stealing glances at me as they passed, and a few outright gawking.

“Doesn’t she look like a barrel o’ laughs?” One of them hissed.

“What does she need two suitcases for?”

“Special treatment.”

I tried to speak, but my teeth were somehow glued together. I tried to walk, but my feet were cast in concrete.

“Hey, get out of the way, would you?” Someone bumped into my back. “You’re taking up the whole hallway!”

I turned, arms stiff and mouth dry to see a frowning young man with a froggish mouth and a face full of orange freckles. I tried to apologise, but only a thin trickle of air escaped my throat.

“Oh, you’re Keating’s daughter! Hi, how ya going? I’m Richard Cameron.” His hand shot up to smooth his auburn flat top. He paused, eyebrows raised for an answer. “Oookaaay.” He looked at me like I was crazy, and I feared he might be right. “You really oughta move, you’re gonna get trampled.”

“Clare.” I whispered to his back as it disappeared into the crowd. “My name’s Clare.”

Regaining my voice lent me a small burst of energy, just enough to pick my cases back up and hobble a few more steps down the hall. My arms burned with the effort and my lungs seemed far too small. I gritted my teeth and closed my mind to the hushed gossiping happening right in front of me. Just a few more steps, surely my room would be just around this bend. Unfortunately, it wasn’t. The hallway led to yet another hallway. Surely I should just sit down and die of heatstroke, right? I'll just leave my spirit here, cursed to eternally wander this academic desert...

“...the Keating girl…” Over the ruckus I heard a fragment of the Cameron boy’s voice. “Well… pretty enough… idiot savant or something!”

My stomach turned over. What was wrong with me? I strained to remember if I had hit my head some time between breakfast and the welcome ceremony and turned visibly stupid. The humiliation was almost too much to bear, and I felt my knees on the verge of buckling.

“Hey, excuse me?” Just as my heart was about to break, another soft voice spoke up, leaving me no time at all to wallow in self pity. “Would you like some help with your bags?” The voice belonged to another red-head, this time with a kindly, mouse-ish face and big browline glasses. He smiled soothingly when I failed to respond and gestured to my bags. “My friends and I would be happy to help you.”

“Uh-th-” I pressed my lips together and swallowed hard against the urge to vomit. “That’s okay.”

“Hey, they must weigh a ton! We don’t mind, really.” Two more boys appeared at the red-head’s side, the taller one spoke up and took no time to pick up the bag at my left, making a little ‘oof’ sound as he stood up.

“Thank you, y-you really don’t have to.”

“Charlie, help her out would you?” The red-head hit his shorter friend on the arm insistently.

“Is that an order, Meeks?” The friend quirked an eyebrow.

“You wanna fail Latin? No. So pick the bag up. I’m sorry about this.” He addressed me again, placing a solemn hand on his heart. “My name is Steven Meeks, this is Knox Overstreet-”

“Hi, there.” The taller boy took a step forward and nodded. He had the sort of dorky casanova spirit in his hazel eyes and lop-sided smile that was unmissable.

“-and-”

“Charlie.” He sidled up, arranged his face in a smouldering smirk, and offered his hand to shake. “Dalton.”

“It’s very nice to meet all of you.” I was very glad to have my voice back, though I nearly lost it again when Charlie swooped in and kissed the back of my hand. I snatched it away and cast a fearful glance up and down the hallway, thankfully seeing no teachers or hall monitors. “You can’t do that! What if somebody saw?”

“What if?” His cocky smile faltered as his eyebrows furrowed.

“They’d transfer me to Henley Hall!”

“Oh.” His face fell.

“Anyway, Miss Keating,” Steven stepped in to put us back on track, calming me with his even temper. “We’re on our way to visit our good friend Neil Perry to organise a study group for this semester. Would you like to join us?”

“Oh, sure.” A genuine smile grew on my face, the first since I had arrived at Welton. “I’d really appreciate that, thank you. And please, call me Clare.”

“No problem, Clare.” He put a gentle hand on my shoulder to show me the way, but the moment was brief and clandestine.

“You got a speciality?” Knox grunted as he lugged the suitcase along.

“Knoxious, her father’s the English teacher.” Charlie rolled his eyes, voice tense with effort.

“Well, sure, but maybe she hates English, and that’s why!”

“I-I don’t. I’m happy to cover English, but I can also do History if you need me to.”

“You’re in.” Charlie winked. “But no way are you doing History. That’s mine. I can’t be a total free-loader now, can I?”

“I suppose not.”

We shuffled along the hall until we came to a room mid-way along. Charlie and Knox dropped my bags by the door and the three boys crowded around the doorway, waiting for whoever was inside to notice them. I pushed my thumb into my palm, waiting on the outskirts of the group.

“Rumour has it,” Charlie pointed an accusatory finger into the room. “You did summer school.”

“Yep, chemistry.” I propped myself onto my tiptoes, trying to see over the group. “My father thought I should get ahead. How’s your summer, Slick?”

“Keen.” Charlie took a sauntering step forward, earning half a laugh from Steven. He stepped into the room and tossed over his shoulder, “Meeks, door, closed.”

I took note of Charlie and Meek’s strange dynamic of mutual bossiness, and decided I liked this old married couple. Steven and Knox heaved my cases into the room, sliding one into a free space behind the right side closet and the other beside the desk on the left, while I slipped in quietly and closed the door, feeling much safer with no prying eyes on me. I quickly relieved myself of my blazer and hung it over my arm.

“What’s all this?” The boy with the dark hair- Neil, I supposed- poked one of the cases with his toe.

“Oh, Neil, this is Clare Keating.” Steven spoke up, his hand genially placed on my upper arm.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.” The prettiest boy I had ever seen stooped down and took my hand, shaking it delicately. “I’m Neil Perry.”

“I’m Cl- It’s um, nice to meet you Neil… Perry.” I stumbled, transfixed by two dark eyes under two thick eyebrows, the colour of stained oakwood.

“Aw jeez, here we go.”

“Shut up, Charlie.” Neil said evenly, barely tossing a glance at him. “It’s nice to meet you too.”

He stepped away and stood by the radiator beneath the window, the autumn sun forming a halo on his sooty hair. The room seemed to blur and disappear behind his radiance, like a soft focus photograph. I had never felt embarrassed by a person's beauty until that moment.

“Gentlemen, what are the four pillars?”

“Travesty!” They all chanted, Knox shushing them frantically. “Horror! Decadence! Excrement!”

I found myself giggling at their antics, feeling a swell of gratitude to have found such a kind group of people in such a frightening place. Neil grinned at me as they all found places to sit, sending a current of electricity through my heart. I suddenly found myself with a huge excess of energy, and feeling it would be a bridge too far to sit on a stranger’s bed- there being no seats left- settled for standing at Steven’s side.

“Okay, study group.” Charlie got down to it. “Meeks aced Latin, I didn’t quite flunk History, and Clare here has gotta be an English whizz; so, if you want, we got our study group.”

“Sure. Cameron asked me too.” Neil said, a little reluctantly. “Anyone mind including him?”

I wished I could speak up about overhearing his insult earlier, but I couldn’t bring myself too. Instead, I promised myself I would try to give the boy a second chance, now that I had my voice back.

“What’s his specialty, bootlicking?” Charlie rolled his eyes and sparked a cigarette.

“He’s your roommate.” Neil fired back.

“That’s not my fault.”

“Uh, I’m sorry, my name is Steven Meeks.” Ever the gentlemen, Steven introduced himself to a young man that had gone entirely unnoticed by me. I felt ashamed to have brushed over him so easily, but how could I blame myself under circumstances like these?

“Oh, this is Todd Anderson.” Neil reached over to tap the boy encouragingly on the back. The boys all exchanged handshakes and pleasantries, leaving me as the last.

“I’m Clare Keating.” I shook his hand, feeling it cold and clammy to the touch. “It’s nice to meet you, Todd.”

“Nice to meet you.” He muttered, face red beneath his freckles, and shied away quickly.

“Todd’s brother was Jeffrey Anderson.” Neil stated, as if I should be impressed.

“Oh, yeah sure!” Charlie saved me the embarrassment. “Valedictorian. National Merit scholar.”

I thought of my father, the Welton honours graduate, Cambridge educated, published poet, well-liked by all… Tough shoes to fill.

“Welcome to Hell-ton!” Steven exclaimed.

“It’s every bit as tough as they say,” Charlie said gravely. “Unless you’re a genius, like Meeks.”

“He flatters me. That’s why I help him with Latin.”

“And English, and trig.” Charlie interrupted himself with a cough.

A knock came on the door. All in a second, an Oxford shoe ground out the cigarette and kicked it under Neil’s bed, I disappeared into the wardrobe, stepping onto the suitcase laying at the bottom, and drew the curtain across and held my breath. I had no idea where my sudden instinct for rebellion had risen from, but I was thankful for it when the door creaked open and an authoritative footstep sounded on the floor outside.

“Father,” Neil’s voice cracked. “I thought you’d gone.”

I heard my new friends form a chorus of ‘hello, Mr Perry,’ and scramble to their feet. I held a hand over my mouth to quiet my breathing.

“Keep your seats, fellas, keep your seats.” An older man’s voice said genially. “Neil, I’ve just spoken to Mr Nolan. I think you’re taking too many extracurricular activities this semester, and I’ve decided that you should drop the school annual.”

“But, I’m the assistant editor this year.” My heart nearly broke at the distress in his voice.

“Well, I’m sorry Neil.” Mr Perry’s voice carried a challenging undercurrent.

“But, father, I can’t! It wouldn’t be fair!” Neil’s voice raised frantically.

“Fellas, would you excuse us a moment?”

A silence fell and I held my breath as the pair stepped past my hiding place on the way out. Too terrified to move, I stayed where I was, hearing their argument muffled through the wall. After a few moments, it seemed Neil’s father had departed and the rest of the boys had made their way over to comfort him. I had never been so grateful for my father. Yet, I still failed to move, frozen at the thought that the old ghoul might be staring right at me if I pulled away the curtain. After a few moments, a hesitant hand pulled back the fabric to reveal Neil’s sweet little roommate who seemed so uninterested in making friends.

“Um, h-he’s gone.”

“Thanks, Tom.” I stepped down and gave him a grateful smile. “That was scary, huh?”

“U-um…” Tom went beet-red and wide-eyed, stammering like words were hot food in his mouth.

“Oh, I’m sorry, was this your suitcase? I didn’t mean to step on it, it just sort of happened. I don’t think I broke it.”

“N-no, I…”

“Well, uh, Latin?” Steven and the others stepped back into the room, interrupting us. “Eight o’clock in my room?”

“Yes.”

“Sounds good.”

“Todd, Clare, you’re welcome to join us.” Steven addressed us. My heart sank.

“Yeah, come along guys.” Knox spoke up.

“Thanks.” Todd nodded, eyes still wide.

“Thank you, I’ll be there.” I promised, and as the others filed out, I turned to Todd and grimaced sheepishly. I had my voice back, for sure, and now a torrent of words poured out of me. “Oh, jeez, Todd, I’m sorry. I’m terrible with names, I really am. I really blew it didn’t I? I’m so sorry, I’ll make it up to you somehow, I promise.”

“It-it’s okay.” He nodded, smiled stiffly, and sat down at his desk with his back to me.

“Well, I… I better bounce.” I said to the back of his head. “Um, Neil?” The boy wandered into the room, listless and dejected, but made an effort to brighten his expression when I addressed him. “I’m so sorry to inconvenience you, but, do you think you could show me to the teacher’s wing?”

“Of course.” He bent down to pick up one of my suitcases, groaning when he straightened back up. “Gosh, this is heavy. What do you have in here?”

“It’s books, mostly.” I took the other one and lugged it out of the room. “I can’t do without them.”

“The perks of having a teacher for a father, I suppose.” He said, a wistful tone in his voice. “At least they keep you strong, huh?”

“Hmm.” To my dismay, I could find nothing to say to comfort the boy, or anything to say at all, for that matter. I wished I could just be consistent.

“Hey, smart thinking in there!” Charlie appeared beside us, grinning proudly. “I didn’t pin you for the rebellious type, but you seem to be a natural.”

“I don’t know about that…”

“Here, let me take that for you.” Before I could protest, the suitcase was out of my hands. “Where are we off to?”

“Teacher’s wing.”

“Well, you went completely the wrong way. How did you manage that?” Charlie shook his head. “Doesn’t matter, we’ll get you there.”

As we traipsed through the halls, retracing most of my steps, I couldn’t help but steal glances at Neil. My mind raced with verse after verse at the faraway look in his eyes. I felt like Byron, struck by beauty in the moonlight and scrambling to capture the moment like a firefly in a jar of words.

“Neil?” I said softly, surprised for a moment to hear my own voice. “I’m sorry about… the thing, the newspaper.”

“It’s fine.” He smiled sadly, but gratefully. “I still have soccer and… stuff.”

“My father is coaching soccer. We might be on the same team.”

“Maybe.” His smile grew a little more genuine. “You’d better hope you’re not with Charlie. He’s a terror.”

“Is it a crime to want to win?” Charlie retorted.

“You’d think it's a crime not to, the way you carry on.”

“Yeah, yeah. Which room?”

“Three-ten. I think it’s the first one here.”

Sure enough, my room was the first one in the wing, closest to the hallway. I thanked the both of them, laughing as Charlie waggled his eyebrows and bowed with mock reverence on his way. Neil lingered a moment by my door under the pretence of making sure I had everything right and that my key worked.

“I’ll see you at the study group, then.” I leaned up against the doorframe, feeling infinitely lucky to have the privilege of looking at him.

“See you then.” He turned to go, but hesitated. “Hey, Clare? If you need anything, come find one of us. Those guys you met today are some of the most upstanding people at this school. We’ll help you if you’re ever… I don’t know. If you ever need it.”

“Thank you, Neil. I appreciate that.”

With a final nod of acknowledgement, he disappeared, and I ran across the room and tossed myself onto the bed, exhausted, and dreading the task of unpacking the horrible truth: I had fallen right off the deep end and landed squarely in love with Neil Perry.

#neil perry x reader #todd anderson x reader #steven meeks x reader #gerard pitts x reader #charlie dalton x reader #richard cameron x reader #knox overstreet x reader #dead poets society #dead poets x reader #dead poets society x reader

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obihoebikenobi · 10 days

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Poolverine Series: to gain true love, one must first lose their wolvirginity, i don't make the rules

By: obihoebikenobi, 23.6K as of September 13th, 2024

It's a love story baby just get fucked. Logan and Wade's love story, written in somewhat disconnected parts.

I descended into Poolverine hell and wrote a 20K and counting series about these two fuckers. Featuring: softness, migraines, love confessions, domesticity, and fucking. All that good shit.

See summaries, relevant tags, ratings, and links to all fics on ao3 below.

PART 1: i wanna hold your hand (and colossal dick, eventually), 3.5K

Rating: M

Tags: alcohol withdrawl, vomiting, literally sharing a bed, bathing/washing

“Fuck you, Wade.” “If only,” Wade said, trailing a finger over a seam on the quilt with feigned yearning, “I long for the day you allow me the pleasure of ravishing your raw skin-saber, maybe with a side of penetration–” “The only thing I’ll be penetrating is your eye sockets with these,” Logan flashed his claws, “If you so much as speak to me while we are still in this bed tomorrow morning.” “Joke's on you, I will gladly and enthusiastically take any form of penetration, in existing or fresh new holes, as long as it’s from you, Peanut.” Logan’s head pounded, but he wasn’t sure if it was from Wade’s persistent blabbering, or the fact that the last of the alcohol was wearing off. “Go the fuck to sleep.” Logan downed the last sip of vodka and willed his body to cooperate. Withdrawal was a bitch. (one pull-out couch, two bitches, vomiting, and the works, now with fucking in part two!)

PART 2: a little bit more than hand holding, 2.7K

Rating: E

Tags: wade is obsessed with dicks, bottom wade, little bit of praise kink, logan just wants a kissi

“Oh so that’s your horny face then? Watery eyes, clenched teeth? Nothing hotter than a tortured poet with a heart of gold who cries during sex.” “Wade–” “If that’s horny I’d love to see your O-face–” Wade threw an arm over his forehead, gasping. “Can you just shut the fuck up for one goddamn second, asshole?” Logan dared a sharp glance in Wade’s direction, finding him sitting perfectly still with a pleasant smile painted across his face. The smug piece of shit knew Logan wanted him. Logan cleared his throat, “Now that I have your attention,” he started, earning a snort from Wade, “So we’re clear, the more words that come out of your mouth, the more likely I’m going to sleep early and no one's getting fucked.” (wade loses his wolvirginity)

PART 3: lesser of two evils, right?, 7.5K

Rating: E

Tags: sub logan (kinda), crying during sex, soft, rimming, angst, praise kink

“When you’re done being a bitter little bitch, I’m offering you a massage, of the non-dick variety. Because I am a nice person.” It was, indeed, surprisingly nice. Logan stared at him, hating himself for actually wanting the fucking massage, because he sure as shit shouldn’t have wanted it. “I’m going to take that blank, lifeless stare as a hell yeah. So take off your shirt and come with daddy,” Wade pointed toward the bedroom expectantly, lips drawn into a wide smile. “Don’t call yourself that again. Ever.” What a little shit. (logan gets migraines, but also gets a massage, and an orgasm. it's a lot.)

PART 4: holding hands (gone sexual), 5.3K

Rating: E

Tags: discussion of consent and logan's past issues, insecure logan, bottom logan, domestic fluff, love confessions, praise kink

“Oh my god. Oh my god.” Oh for fuck’s sake. Logan probably shouldn’t have stopped considering throwing himself in a meat grinder– “Have I died in my sleep? Is this yet another whimsical dream where I have a house husband to take care of my every need and whim whilst I labor away every fucking single day, with so little appreciation, just to feed our child–” “Shut the fuck up,” Logan muttered, feeling the stain of red warmth over his cheeks. “I don’t know what I have done to deserve this, Peanut, but I am so fucking turned on right now. I might come in my pants. That happens when people are nice to me.” “Wade, it’s waffles–” “Don’t be a kink-shamer, baby girl. Benevolence and breakfast foods get me going. Don’t even get me started on sausages.” (logan explores his feelings with wade, makes waffles for wade, gets fucked by wade, falls in love...with wade)

PART 5: and they were boyfriends (and roomates), 4.4K

Rating: E

Tags: love confessions, insecure logan, drinking to cope, angst and hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort

“I’m good.” For whatever reason, Wade apparently took that as an invitation to sit down next to him, and Logan growled, moving over so they weren’t touching. Wade shivered, scoffing at him, and kicking Logan’s foot. “Clearly not, Peanut. You’ve smoked a week’s wage of cigs in three hours and I’m fairly certain you’re still not unfucked up from all that cheap-ass donkey piss you call whiskey.” Logan was seconds, maybe milliseconds, from punching him in the fucking face–with claws–but he held back, knowing Wade only thrived on retaliation. “What’s it matter to you?” The words felt sour on his tongue and he practically spat them in Wade’s direction. “Well,” Wade took a deep breath, “I’m probably the reason–scratch that–I’m definitely the reason you’re clearly not good.” (wade takes a mid love-confession job, logan drinks about it. cue angst. subsequently, boyfriendship.)

#poolverine #deadclaws #worst wolverine #logan howlett #smut #poolverine smut #poolverine fanfic #poolverine fanfiction #deadclaws fanfiction #deadclaws fic #poolverine fic #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool #deadpool x wolverine

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td-tbbg-official · 9 months

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He made the merge once, she barely did. He is not beauty nor brains, and neither is she any of the two. They are disgusting together and disgusting apart. Poets at heart, the two would not last a day without one another.

Raise your hands to the sky for... Ripper and Axel!

“We are so winning this!”

“I’ll beat up everyone in our path!”

“I’m sure you will, babe. And I can’t wait to watch.”

How far will Ripper and Axel get? Only time will tell, here on Total Drama: The Bridge Between Generations!

coming soon to an AO3 near you.

questions, concerns, suggestions to be deposited in the ask box.

TD: TBBG is written by @canonically47. the blog is entirely run by the writer.

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gloomwitchwrites · 10 months

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Dark Knowledge: Part One

Miraak x Hermaeus Mora x Female Dragonborn Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): canon-typical swearing, canon-typical violence, brief blood, horror elements, tentacles

Word Count: 4k

A/N: Part One of Dark Knowledge

The Dragonborn opens up a Black Book and steps into the realm of Hermaeus Mora.

Part Two

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // dark knowledge masterlist

On the island of Solstheim, deep within a cave, is a book.

Before you, the book rests upon an intricately carved pedestal large enough to hold the massive tome. The walls and floor around it are tentacles sculpted from stone. They form a tangled mural behind the pedestal and book.

It is a Black Book. A tome of esoteric knowledge. A Daedric artifact attributed to Hermaeus Mora, the Prince of knowledge, memory, and Fate. You’ve heard the tales—mostly from one of Master Neloth’s wayward stories. With your reputation, Neloth asked you to retrieve a Black Book, giving you its precise location.

Maneuvering through the cave was the easy part. Now that you stand before the massive tome, your feet have turned to solid steel. The book is bound in a black cover that appears soft to the touch as if it’s a living thing and not just Daedric reading material. On the cover is the symbol of Hermaeus Mora. Between the pages, a black mist leaks out and surrounds the book in its immediate vicinity. That doesn’t account for the oddly pulsing air, as if the book is vibrating, disturbing the space around it.

You do not move closer. You do not approach. You stand near the base of the stairs that you just descended. There is no eagerness in you to take a closer look.

“So. This is what Master Neloth wanted us to retrieve?” asks Teldryn Sero. The Dunmer mercenary stands directly behind you and to the right of your shoulder. He crosses his arms and also keeps a decent distance away. “Looks foul. I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.”

Without looking away from the Black Book, you answer him. “Sounds like you’re starting to care about me, Teldryn.”

Teldryn snorts and leans in, his helmeted head appearing next to your face. “You pay me to care. Therefore, I shall. I like the coin. Keeps my pockets full.”

“Ever the poet, Teldryn.”

“Naturally.”

The good humor is just a front. This…thing is repulsive, and you’re not sure you want to touch it, let alone open it.

Master Neloth isn’t the only reason you’re after this thing. Back on Skyrim, during a visit to the town of Riverwood, a trio of cultist attacked you. Before they lashed out, they mentioned someone named “Miraak.” From there, you came to Solstheim, only to find parts of the local population seeking out stone pillars. There they toiled, repeating a mantra that made no sense.

It all led to Skaal Village where the shaman, Storn Crag-Strider, diverted you to Saering’s Watch to learn a Word of Power. The All-Maker stones, as Storn called them, are all cleansed. But it only pushed you deeper into this twisted treachery. Storn was adamant about not turning to Hermaeus Mora for assistance in defeating Miraak, but did mention Black Books and who would know more.

Master Neloth was that person.

Now, you’re here, staring at the thing everyone’s been talking about, and you’re not entirely sure who to trust.

As if drawn by an invisible tether, your left foot slides forward toward the Black Book. Your mind registers it only when Teldryn reaches out and grabs your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” he asks with a whispered sharpness. Teldryn pushes you up against the stair’s central support pillar. “You are not touching that.”

“How else are we supposed to get it to Neloth?” you snap.

“We don’t,” replies Teldryn. “I love gold but I’m not stupid. We don’t need to do this. There are plenty of other jobs out there for us to do that don’t involve anything like that.” Teldryn emphasizes his distaste by pointing at the Black Book.

“But I’m the Dragonborn. I have to do this.”

“Do you? Do you really?”

You square your shoulders and stare Teldryn down. “Yes. That’s my destiny as—”

“Is that what those old loons up on the mountain told you?” interrupts Teldryn. “That you have to solve all of Tamriel’s problems?”

“No, but—”

“But nothing. You are not beholden to anyone but yourself.” Teldryn pauses a moment and then inclines his head. “Except me. Still owe me from that bet we made in Windhelm.”

“If I pay up, will you stop talking?”

Teldryn considers. “No,” he says after a few long seconds.

The two of you turn your heads in the direction of the Black Book. The black mist around it appears thicker, and distantly, you hear voices whispering. Yet this inaudible chorus seems miles away, their voices just existing at the edges of your hearing. Teldryn is Mer, and his ears are sharper than your human ones.

“Teldryn?” you ask softly. “Do you hear that?”

His head tilts to the right an inch. “Hear what?”

You focus in on the sound, pushing all your attention into deciphering the message. It is a chorus, a resounding force of voices all harmonizing together, but every time you try to pick a word out, the understanding slips and you’re left with nothing.

“Voices,” you murmur. “Do you not hear them?”

Teldryn shakes his head and then slowly pivots to face the dark tome. You take a step closer and Teldryn blocks your path.

“How can you not hear it?” You’re not speaking to Teldryn but to the air, thinking out loud rather than seeking an answer.

Teldryn is no barrier. You push past him and make it five full steps before Teldryn is able to cut you off. He places his hands on your shoulders, halting your forward momentum.

“The Black Book is speaking to you. Hermaeus Mora is calling you to him,” says Teldryn, shaking your shoulders.

Your nostrils flare and you smell ink. It is thick and viscous. “I should open it.” The words fall from your lips easily, as if you are one of the possessed and hearing Miraak’s mantra.

“This is insanity,” hisses Teldryn. “You’re not risking your life like this.”

The voices strengthen, and between each intake of breath, you hear their song. It is not one language but many, and they all speak in unison, their words matching up in syllable and pitch. Some of the voices sound entirely mortal. Others are odd. Primordial. You do not understand them and their strangeness batters away at your brain.

Something wet drips onto your upper lip. You don’t wipe it away.

“Your nose is bleeding,” murmurs Teldryn. Behind the Chitin helmet, all you can see are the Dunmer’s eyes. But they speak volumes. His concern is evident.

The tug to open the book is unyieldingly powerful. There is no part of your body that isn’t sizzling with the need to touch the fleshy cover and reveal the secrets inside. In the end, you will have to open a Black Book. In the end, you will have to involve yourself. All roads lead there. You know this in your marrow.

“They’ll never stop coming,” you say, and each word is laced with sadness.

This is your purpose. This is the life placed before you. The gift of the Voice is not one you asked for. It is not something you ever wished upon yourself. But there is no way to give it back. Time and Fate will eventually catch up to you.

Better to face it all now.

“You owe no one nothing.” Teldryn is not a liar. At least, not to you. He respects you even when he disagrees.

“I know.” The admission is painful.

“I can’t protect you once you open that book. We don’t know what will happen.”

You shake your head. “Miraak’s temple is too heavily guarded. I cannot seek answers there.”

“We cannot seek answers there,” corrects Teldryn, his voice breaking slightly. “Where you go, I go.”

“You only say that because I pay you well.”

Teldryn gently rests his helmet against your forehead. “You pay me shit.”

The bit of blood on your lip rolls down to your chin. “Don’t wait for me,” you whisper. “Whatever you do, Teldryn. Don’t. Wait.”

Teldryn’s chest heaves with a great sigh. “I get your homestead in Falkreath.”

“Deal,” you laugh as another wet drop falls onto your upper lip. Teldryn loves that house, and it’s been nothing but trouble for you.

With a final squeeze of your shoulders, Teldryn pulls away, moving out of your path, revealing the Black Book. What dwells inside the book is the unknown factor. You could go mad. You could experience visions. You could simply disappear from this plane. There is no telling what might happen.

The harmonious voices strengthen as you stride closer. On the cover, the symbol of Hermaeus Mora begins to glow a sickly green. Around the book, the black mist thickens. In its foggy depths, the shadows of tentacles unfurl. They are transparent. Faint, dark whisps. The tentacles venture outwards, reaching as if seeking an embrace.

Another step. Another. Another still and then you’re right there, staring down at the thing that won’t stop talking.

Neloth will have his book, but you need this to end.

The tips of your fingers brush against the edge of the Black Book’s cover. It is not fleshy as you expect it to be. It is coarse, but not sharp or scratchy. Slowly, your fingers curl around the edge. There is a hesitation just before you start to open the cover. Moving with you, the pages follow the cover, and then the yellowed papers inside present themselves.

At first, there is nothing. The pages you stare at are blank. In the next second, all sound disappears as if the room is frozen in time. It is followed by a soft pop, and the world comes hurtling forward.

The blank pages begin to fill in archaic, living writing. The unknown words and symbols move across the page in systematic lines and circles. Some are large and easy to see while others are so tiny they float around in the background in faint swirls.

Between the pages is a void. It emerges from the binding, moving outward over the pages. It is an abyss, and its emptiness drags you forward, your boots lifting off the floor until you’re on your toes.

Tentacles burst forth from the darkness. These are not the misty tendrils from earlier but real, tangible limbs that slide over and around you. They wrap around your arms and shoulders. They suction to your face and neck. They probe and push even as you thrash about, trying to break free.

Escape is impossible. You’re hauled forward, tipping down into the abyss, delving into the darkness. There is a loud roaring and then your feet are on solid ground.

The abyss is gone, and instead…

You’re not entirely sure where you are.

Around you is an alcove made of black metal. Attached to it is an archway made of books that connect to a long hallway. The books within the archway are stacked on top of each other, almost seeming to melt together near the center curve of the arch. Beneath your feet is stone. Some of it is gray like the rock on the side of mountain. Other chunks of stone are black and dull. There are pages from books scattered all over the ground but they aren’t moving. They simply rest where they lay.

You bend at the knees and reach out, sliding a fingernail under the corner of the nearest page. Its only lifts an inch or so, and with it comes something syrupy and sticky. You immediately retract your arm and stand, wiping away the reside on your leather pants.

Slowly, you rotate, surveying your surroundings. It’s only when you turn around that you notice the Black Book. The symbol of Hermaeus Mora does not glow. There is no black mist or odd whispering.

Without second guessing the choice, you grab the cover and open the book, expecting to find what you did just seconds ago.

Nothing.

The pages are blank.

You flip the page. Nothing. Flip again. Still blank.

You go to the beginning, examining every inch of paper. No living words or symbols appear. The book is dead. Silent.

Frowning, you spin around and stare down the long hallway. The air is stale and absent of wind. Glancing up, you peer through the small holes in the black metal. A glowing, green sky greets you. There are streaks in the sky that move like clouds but their radiance is more like lightning. Shifting on your feet, you change perspective, and discover a black abyss cutting through the green sky.

Is that what you fell through?

As you watch the portal, black tentacles drop from its darkness and sway as if caught on a breeze. But you feel no wind against your skin. Then again, you don’t sense a temperature either. You’re not cold but you’re not warm, as if the very atmosphere is adjusting to your body temperature, making the stale air around you feel like absolutely nothing.

Wherever you are, it is an atrocity.

Without a way to go back, the only path is forward.

With overly slow movements, you unsheathe the sword at your waist. The hallway isn’t well lit, but there is enough light to see by. Crouching slightly, you move on silent feet, keeping close to the wall without touching it.

The stone floor gives way to twisted metal, and the walls are nothing but books. You do not stop to peer at any of them. This place is dangerous, and you need to be alert at all times. Survival is essential. Information is important. Any clues that you can take back to Neloth or Storn might help in unveiling the mystery behind this stranger known as Miraak.

Hermaeus Mora is not unknown to you. You grew up on stories about Aedra and Daedra. They were standard tales, but when you were a child, those beings seemed far from the reality of your life.

It is so very different now.

Neloth did not shy away from talking about the Daedric Prince. It was Miraak that the Dunmer dismissed, seeming more concerned with Mora and the Black Books.

What was it that Neloth said about Mora’s permanent influence? Madness. Loss of self-awareness. Black spots in the whites of the eyes. There are no mirrors and you cannot see your reflection in your sword. You’re not mad, but for a brief moment you thought you were when Teldryn couldn’t hear the voices. Your self-awareness is intact. At least, for now.

Storn called Mora the Skaal’s enemy, and spoke of hidden Skaal knowledge that Mora wishes to obtain only for the sheer pleasure of possessing it. But Storn did not say more, merely focusing on the destruction of Miraak’s influence.

As you round a corner, you arrive at an open platform. Instead of approaching, you hang back, observing your newly unobstructed view of the environment. From here, the glowing sky and black portals are in clear view. Various structures dot the landscape, and it stretches in all directions.

But there is no landscape. There are no trees or blades of grass. What should be the ground isn’t rock or dirt but a dark liquid that resembles black water. It is as dark as parchment ink, and the surface of it ripples slightly as if something moves beneath it. You have zero desire to know if its as fluid as an ocean or thick like honey.

The platform itself is rounded and juts out slightly from the opening. As you step closer, the platform shifts and fans upward, extending like the wings of a dragonfly. Another appears from above, connecting to it to form a bridge.

There is a tower there, the outside of the structure nothing but pillars of books. Your gaze sweeps across it and the surrounding area. Nothing jumps out at you except the strangeness of the place. Nothing and no one lurk nearby.

Cautiously, you step out onto the bridge. Still, there is no wind. The air is still. With silent steps, you creep to the next platform. When you crest the small curve in the bridge just before the landing, you come to a stop and immediately drop to your stomach.

A strange creature hovers just inside the archway. It has four arms, two of which hold books while the others rest against its sides. Its head is squid-like with two thin eyes and no eyelids. Hanging from its shoulders are rags of some kind, but at this distance, it might also be fur.

It has not noticed you, and you use this to your advantage. Silently, you set your sword next to you, and remove your ebony bow from your back along with an arrow. Easing up to a low crouch, you pull back on the bowstring, aiming the pointed tip of the arrow at the head of the bizarre creature.

With a book in hand, it seems such a gentle creature. It’s head tentacles flare as it reads as if the words on the page are amusing. A brief moment of hesitation stays your hand. Then you remember the voices and mist, of how blood dripped from your nose from the brawling nature of it all.

Your finger slips from the bowstring.

The arrow whistles.

It lifts its head in curiosity.

Making contact, the arrow slides between the creature’s eyes.

There is no noise or cry of pain. It vanishes in a brief vibration of mist. The rags it wore and the books it held hang suspended in the air before falling to the ground. The books hit hard. The rags drift slowly.

Before the rags touch the ground, you’re up and moving, returning your blade to its scabbard. You remove another arrow from the quiver. In this moment, you are a stealthy killer, a being of darkness in a place made for it.

Your humanity will not pause your hand. The answers you seek go beyond that. You are in Hermaeus Mora’s realm. You are alone. Teldryn is not here to help you. Everything going forward must be done with only yourself in mind.

As you step off the bridge, the dragonfly-like structures break apart. You glance back and meet open air.

A howl reaches your ears. It bites and claws, sounding of blood-filled lungs. All the hair on your arms stand on end, and your skin prickles with awareness. The awful sound comes again. It’s closer. Moving in. Trapping you against a threat of falling.

There is a ripple. A change that you sense. Of a predator seeking its prey.

You drop to your knees as a ball of vibrating air launches over your head. Spinning toward your assailant, you release the notched arrow. It strikes true, hitting another one of those creatures.

This one shrieks. Then doubles. A replicate appearing beside it.

With quick fingers, you release two more, sending the tentacle twins vanishing into puffs of mist.

It is clear that your presence has been detected. Stealth will be of little use if the beings of this realm are actively seeking you out.

Charging down the hall only proves what you expect. More of these creatures lurk nearby, actively waiting for you to make an appearance. These are not visible. They are beings of mist, and they solidify with a blink, popping up from nowhere before your very eyes.

The first surprises, nearly knocking you down.

The second almost grabs you. It’s clawed hand just grazing your leather armor.

The third hurtles into you, but you manage to roll into the fall, getting back on your feet with ease.

The bow is useless. They are too close, disappearing then reappearing in rapid succession. Your blade is sharp, and you are eager for a bit of blood.

The steel blade rings loudly and the first swing strikes true.

“Fus!” The power of your Voice slams into one of the tentacled creatures. It flinches back. Recoils from your blow. It is enough for you to drive forward.

You duck and weave, slicing through the air and dispatching your assailants with the skill that has made hundreds tremble.

But there is no blood. These creatures do not bleed. They simply vanish into mist.

Chest heaving, you finally have a moment to gauge your new surroundings. It’s a massive circular room. There are several large, metal double doors scattered throughout the room but the doors are shut, barring entry.

All expect one.

With resolve in every step, you march forward toward the open gate, passing rotting stacks of books and floating eyes with tiny tentacles. They look like horrific stars. They even blink, following you for a few strides before drifting off to move about the room.

You ascend the raised dais, pass through the doors, and up another flight of stairs before you’re spit out onto another platform.

Unlike the previous platforms, this one is already attached to a bridge. It spans a great expanse of black water, connecting to another tower. But there is too much open space between the towers, and there is zero cover. You would need to sprint, or use a Shout to speedily propel yourself across.

A roar from behind you stirs your feet.

“Wuld Nah!” In seconds, you’re halfway across the bridge, already sprinting to the other side, your arms and legs pumping with every step.

“Dovahkiin!”

The primordial voice is an anchor tied to your feet and you are in deep water. Sinking. You are sinking. The bridge beneath you is melting, sucking and solidifying around your boots.

With a cry, you reach down and try to lift your leg. Nothing. You are rooted to the spot.

A shadow falls across the bridge. A deep, unsettling, slimy sensation slithers up your spine and wraps around your throat. Your eyes are fixed to your submerged boots.

“Fate has led you here, to my realm, as I knew it would.” Your fingers tremble and you refuse to look up. “All seekers of knowledge come to my realm, sooner or later. That is what you are after, isn’t it? Knowledge. That is why you answered my call so willingly.”

No forms on your tongue. You did not come willingly. Or did you? Yes, the pull was there but you intended to open up the Black Book. Didn’t you?

You’re…certain?

A lone black tentacles drifts in front of your face. It wiggles slightly, moving toward your nose. It retreats slightly, and then with an odd gentleness, curls under your chin, lifting your face to the Daedric Prince floating in the sky.

Hermaeus Mora is a grotesque abomination. He is a green and black mass, a void of tentacles and eyes. His entire being pulsates, expanding and retracting as he…breathes? Do Daedric Lords need to breath? Or is this just a formality to make you more comfortable?

If it’s intentional on Mora’s part, it’s creepy, only adding to his aura. Hermaeus Mora is large, taking up so much space he’s all you can see. While he hovers in the air, Mora is not far from you. In fact, if you lift your hand and extend your arm, you’d easily touch him.

The large eye in the center of it all blinks slowly in observation. “Is the Last Dragonborn a fool? Speak, mortal. Why did you come to me?”

Deep in the recesses of your soul, a stubbornness blooms. Your mouth does not form the answer he’s seeking. Instead, your lips pull back, and you bare your teeth like a feral animal.

“If you are the Prince of Fate, surely you can answer such a simple question. All this knowledge around you, and yet you cannot form your own answer. I expected more.”

Hermaeus Mora bristles, his form expanding in size as his tentacles vibrate with irritation. “Be warned. Many have sought my halls. I have broken them all. You cannot evade me. You cannot resist.”

The bridge rumbles. Hermaeus Mora’s massive eye slides up to watch a point over your shoulder. Slowly, you turn, finding yet another abomination. This one is incredibly tall, almost amphibious and slightly humanoid. Each of its footsteps shake the bridge.

Mora is calm. Serene. The creature moves closer, each shattering step a threat.

“You are in my realm now, Dragonborn. Apocrypha will be your home. You will converse with me and I cannot wait to know your secrets.”

From the monster’s open mouth emerge a wave of tentacles. They wrap around your body. They cover your face and slide into your mouth, reaching toward your lungs.

“Sleep,” hums Hermaeus Mora as your consciousness begins to slip. “And then we shall talk.”

Part Two

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weaveandwood · 4 months

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Weave and Woods Chapter 11: The Timelessness of Lovers

Gale/Named Tav | Slow Burn | NSFW | Read on AO3 | Entire Work

Summary:

Under an aurora-lit sky, Gale and Auroria confess their feelings for each other

“Thinking about Mystra’s demand?” Her brows furrowed as they always did when Mystra was brought up, especially after Elminster came with his missive. “Yes.” He paused. “I must admit it is always on my mind. More so now even than before. To know that I’ve found you, and that you are in love with me as I am in love with you only to - ” His voice caught in his throat as tears formed in his eyes. “Only to have to leave you in a few days’ time…I must admit I am more terrified now than I was at the beginning of the night. I do not want to lose you, Ora. I do not want to leave you.” He smiled softly, tears spilling down his cheeks as he pictured what life could have been like with her in his tower, walking through the market each week, sunsets on the balcony, watching the Midwinter fireworks together. She grasped his hand. “Then don’t, Gale. Stay with me. Live. Live with me.” She kissed him again, her own tears mingling with his. “Let’s live.”

AN: This is my favorite scene of Act 2, and the whole game so far. I hope I was able to do it justice while making it my own. NSFW! Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex

Crafting an illusion was like composing a piece of music. One needed to take into consideration every layer - every piece of the orchestra needed to be successful on its own and work together as a whole to create a harmonious explosion of sounds. Illusions were similar. Every part of a convincing illusion needed to be perfect - one thing out of place, and the whole composition falls apart.

Gale was a master at creating illusions, or at least he had been until his unceremonious fall from favor and his body became a host for both a sliver of the Karsite Weave and a mind flayer parasite. He had been unable to create grand illusions since, though he had noticed his abilities strengthening as time had progressed, especially once the charm was placed on the orb to stabilize it. Evocation spells were his specialty, what he was known for, what was nurtured during his time as Chosen of Mystra - it was true there was nothing more useful than a fireball for a battle, but illusory spells were his true love, his passion. Manipulating the Weave in this way made him feel closer to an artist, a poet, or a musician than a warrior. He wanted to use his magic to bring beauty and wonder to the world.

He needed his illusions to be perfect tonight. Tonight was the night he was going to tell Ora that he loved her. He had wanted to shout it from the rooftops of the Last Light Inn after kissing her the previous night, he wanted to whisper it in her ear as she slept peacefully, he wanted to say it that morning when she forced him to go to his tent after sitting outside hers all night, he wanted to yell it in celebration when they worked on spells during the afternoon and she finally cracked Spike Growth after days of attempts on her own.

Every artist needs their muse, and she was his. He channeled the Weave from his spot far enough away from their campsite to afford privacy. As the power hummed through his body, he thought of Ora. How she made him feel, how he felt with her, what reminded him of her - beauty and warmth and goodness. The threat of Moonrise Towers and Mystra’s demand settled over him but did not cause him to abandon his plans. He had to tell her. He squared his shoulders and got to work.

******

“Hello, I’m here on behalf of Gale of Waterdeep!” The cheerful silvered mirror image of Gale said to Auroria as she walked up to his tent before going to bed for the night. “He wishes to extend you an invitation to a private conversation. Would you care to join him? From the portion of his mind that is open to me, it is a matter most urgent.”

“Well, when you put it like that, I don’t think I’m in a position to decline,” she said, her mind already racing with worry. Was the orb acting up again? Had he set his mind to following through with Mystra’s demand of his sacrifice? Would she no longer have the chance of saving him? The thought of losing him caused her heart to race, her stomach to drop, and threatened to bring tears to her eyes as she started down the path pointed out by Gale’s mirror image. Surely it couldn’t be something so serious - he had been in such a good mood after she made him sleep and then again after he helped her figure out what she was doing wrong when attempting to cast her newest spell. He had jumped up and thrown his arms around her when the ground started to erupt with spikes and thorns. She thought he might kiss her again, or at least she had hoped he would, but he pulled away and said something about needing to go read something to find her next spell. She hadn’t seen him since.

The path through the thick forest led to a clearing bordered by a few downed trees and rocky formations. In the middle of it on a plush blanket sat Gale, intensely focused. She looked past him and up to the sky and gasped softly. Instead of the dim, colorless grey they had grown accustomed to over these past days there was a bright shining aurora, all shades of vibrant purple and green dancing across it. Stars sparkled in the distance and the grass in the clearing looked as green as it did in the forests where she grew up. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen. She stood at the edge of the clearing, watching Gale place more stars in the sky and let the tears that had gathered now freely fall down her face. How could a man who creates such beauty even think about sacrificing himself for what a goddess calls forgiveness? Her panic threatened to overwhelm her. She loved him. She couldn’t lose him. She had to tell him. Tonight. She wiped the tears from her face and walked over to sit on the blanket beside him.

“I love this time of night,” he said softly, taking her hand in his, a movement that had become so natural for the both of them over the past weeks. “There’s a reverent silence that accompanies the peak of darkness, when you think the dawn will never break.” He threaded his fingers through hers and as he turned to look at her, she could have sworn the look on his face matched the one she had given the sky moments ago. He waved his free hand at his illusion. “The cradle of eternity…the timelessness of lovers.”

Auroria smiled softly and looked up at the sky, her eyes wide as the lights danced and the stars twinkled. “This is beautiful, Gale. I’ve never seen the sky do this - you’d almost forget we were in the Shadow Cursed Lands,” she said with breathless wonder.

He looked at the sky again. “It’s veiled, kept at arm’s length for now. This isn’t something I can do often in my present condition, but tonight is different. I feel the weight of Mystra’s demand on me, and with us going to Moonrise Towers tomorrow to infiltrate it, I can’t help but feel this may be one of my last nights alive. I wanted it to be under a canopy of beauty and wonder. And with company to match.”

Auroria frowned, hearing the sadness in his tone as if he had decided his fate. This is my last chance.

“Is this truly, truly what you want? To sacrifice yourself for Mystra’s forgiveness?”

“My untimely death is all but assured. My days on this plane have been numbered since I opened that damned book. Would you not want your death to mean something?” He sighed. “I will admit I am terrified, no matter how well I try to conceal it.” He nodded, grim resolution on his face. “Better to meet the inevitable on my own terms.”

Auroria felt warm tears fall down her cheeks again as she nodded. “So you’ve decided, then.” She tried to wipe them away with the back of her hand but they wouldn’t stop coming, so she just let them fall. It was always easy for her to show her emotions with Gale.

He looked over at her, touching her chin with a hooked finger, turning her face to his. “You know, one moment with you would satisfy me for a lifetime. And you’ve given me so many moments, enough for infinite lifetimes. I’m happy you came out here to share this with me. I know it’s not real…but I created this all for you. You were the inspiration for all of this.”

“For me?” She gasped, her eyes snapping to his. “All of this? Why?”

He smiled softly at her. “You must know that you’re…that you’re special to me, Ora.”

Her heart was pounding in her chest. Her breathing quickened. What was he saying? Could he feel the same? She thought, a small flicker of hope warming inside her.

He dropped his hand, going back to looking at the aurora for a short while in silence, a wistful look in his eyes. Finally, he spoke again. “If things were different, if we were home, I would take the time to do things properly. To say everything better. To give you everything you deserve, and more. But time is short.”

He turned to face her again. His eyes were bright and shining with unshed tears.

“I am in love with you.”

Everything faded away from Auroria at that moment. There was only the two of them - there was no shadow curse, there was no Absolute, no tadpole, no orb, no Mystra. No wizard, no ranger. There was just Gale and just Auroria. Two people who managed to find each other despite the fact that their paths never should have crossed. Two people who loved each other despite everything thrown against them.

“I’m in love with you, too, Gale.”

******

Externally, Gale played it cool as he chuckled. “That’s a relief. It would be a shame to spend my final hours making an ass of myself.” Internally, he was in a state of disbelief. Ora was in love with him! He had wanted this, hoped she’d feel the same way as he did, but did not believe it possible that someone so fierce, so brave, with so much to live for would fall in love with him, not how he was now. Not with the orb, not with Mystra’s charge, not with his imminent demise.

She leaned into him and kissed him, quieting his thoughts for the first time in what felt like years as he kissed her back softly. It felt different from their kiss the night before - less desperate, more real. He smiled as she broke the kiss.

“You’re a good kisser,” she smiled back at him.

“And you are a bad liar,” he laughed out loud. “I was basically a hermit for some time before I met you, remember?”

“From one recluse to another, you’re a good kisser,” she said before she kissed him again, her hand on the back of his neck, pulling him closer to her. Her lips parted and his tongue slid against hers as they kissed much like the vision she shared with him all those weeks ago when they were connected through the Weave. A vision he never thought he’d be able to act upon. He broke the kiss and put one hand against her cheek, looking at her beautiful face as she smiled at him, his eyes flicking back and forth between hers, taking in the lush green that seemed to radiate even in the dark of the night with a golden glow. She loves me.

He wanted the night to be perfect. To show her all he could do with the Weave, their bodies and souls intertwining and bonding within its gentle fibers. He stood up excitedly, taking her hand and helping her up from the ground. “What do you say to the perfect night in Waterdeep for our first date?” He smiled.

“I have always heard that Waterdeep is an exceptional city, though I can’t quite remember who told me that,” she teased. “Show me.”

He waved his hand, a faint purple glow enveloping the two of them. The aurora was replaced by his study in his tower. His favorite place in the entire universe - well, until he met Ora. Now his favorite place was by her side. Everything was just as he remembered it, even the messy assortment of parchments on the desk. The piano in the corner, the stacks and stacks of books. He could smell the paper if he concentrated hard enough. He looked back at Ora, who was taking it all in, her eyes wide and her mouth open in awe.

“This is your study?” She asked. “It feels like I’m looking directly into your soul, all books and academia.” She smiled.

She looked so at home in his study. He couldn’t wait to show her the real thing, after - No.

He interrupted his own thoughts. After? There would be no after, not for him. This was more than likely the last time he would ever lay eyes on his beloved study, his beloved tower, his beloved city, and it was all an illusion. Snap out of it. He wanted to show her all he could of him, of his life, before it all ended much, much too soon.

“It is. The center of my universe. Now, for something even better.” He waved his hands, the doors to the balcony opening, the sun setting into the horizon, setting the sea awash in a fiery orange blaze, the entire illusion taking on a warm glow. As Ora stepped out onto the balcony, the sunset lit her up. Her hair burned even more coppery, the light made her eyes look even more green, even her freckles seemed to stand out more. Waterdeep suited her. Still, as he looked out over the horizon, melancholy washed over him. He missed his home. He was thankful to the tadpole for bringing him to Ora, but…he would never come home again. He would never see Tara or his mother again. Never walk the streets, never visit the market, never watch the ships sail from the docks. The sound of pages ruffling brought him back to the present.

“You’ve found my favorite spot. I would sometimes find myself out here from evening to night to daybreak, lost in words.”

“Up all night reading? What a rebel,” she laughed as she kept flicking through the pages of the book. “What’s this book?” she asked, handing it to him.

He laughed and took the book from her, one he had placed there on purpose. “This is The Art of the Night - about a newlywed king and queen’s first thousand nights together. They turned everything into an art - conversation, the exploration and acceptance of the self and the other, the art of the body, the night itself.” Here goes. “I say we take a page from their book.”

Ora raised an eyebrow at him. “Leave it to you to seduce someone with a book.” Gods, he loved how she teased him. She knew him so well. “But…I don’t see a bed.”

“The stars will be our bed. There are endless worlds out there, countless ways to declare love. Let me show you more,” he said. He wanted to show her all of the wonders of the universe, let her feel his love in infinite ways, not just within the confines of their mortal flesh.

She put her hand on his face, looking at him adoringly. “I want to be with you, not a fantasy, not an illusion. I am in love with Gale.”

He paused. “Are you sure? I could use the Weave to make us feel sensations beyond our reckoning. I could wow you. I want to wow you, Ora.”

She smiled, taking his hands in hers. “This isn’t a test, Gale. You don’t have to impress me with these grand gestures to show off your abilities. I’m no goddess. I am in love with you .”

He leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers. “Yes, you are, Ora. Trust me, I would know.” He snapped his fingers, placing them back in the forest by camp, the aurora still dancing across the sky, the stars sparkling just for them. “Let’s do it your way then - the old ways. As long as it’s with you.”

She kissed him as he waved his hand, conjuring a large bed. “For your comfort, of course.”

She laughed then. “I have been living in the wilds for almost my entire life, I’m pretty sure this bed is for your comfort.” She walked over to it, kicked off her slippers and climbed on, patting the mattress next to her. “Though, you will not hear me complain.”

He smiled and walked to the bed, climbing onto it next to her, his calm exterior belying the chaos within him. His heart was racing with anticipation and his brain was moving a million miles a minute. It had been so long since he had been with anyone physically, since before becoming Mystra’s lover. Could he live up to her expectations? Would this all be a waste of time? Why did he even confess his feelings to her when he was just going to die in a few days time? His breathing picked up as he balanced on the knife’s edge of panic.

“Gale?” He felt a warm touch on his hand. Ora . “Gale, come back to me,” she said, placing a tender kiss on his cheek, then a soft kiss on his lips. She was a balm to him - his mind quieted again, focusing only on her. He kissed her back and placed a hand on the side of her face, his thumb gently running over her cheek.

“I apologize. My mind momentarily was…elsewhere. I am here now.”

“Thinking about Mystra’s demand?” Her brows furrowed as they always did when Mystra was brought up, especially after Elminster came with his missive.

“Yes.” He paused. “I must admit it is always on my mind. More so now even than before. To know that I’ve found you, and that you are in love with me as I am in love with you only to - ” His voice caught in his throat as tears formed in his eyes. “Only to have to leave you in a few days’ time…I must admit I am more terrified now than I was at the beginning of the night. I do not want to lose you, Ora. I do not want to leave you.” He smiled softly, tears spilling down his cheeks as he pictured what life could have been like with her in his tower, walking through the market each week, sunsets on the balcony, watching the Midwinter fireworks together.

She grasped his hand. “Then don’t, Gale. Stay with me. Live. Live with me.” She kissed him again, her own tears mingling with his. “Let’s live.”

He nodded and closed his eyes, holding on to her hands tightly. She made it seem so simple, to just live . That she alone could defy a goddess’ machinations and find a way to circumvent his fate. Perhaps she could. He opened his eyes and found her staring at him, full of concern. This was not the direction he wanted this evening to go, and yet it only made him fall deeper in love with her. Made him want her even more, if that was possible. Made him want to believe the impossible.

Stay. Live. Could I?

“Live,” she pleaded, her voice barely above a whisper.

Could I?

He kissed her deeply, pulling her close to him. Their tongues slid together again, finding a rhythm of push and pull as their hands roamed each other’s bodies, discovering a new closeness that they had been on the edge of for weeks now. She smelled faintly like the peppermint balm she massaged on her sore muscles after a long day of fighting or training. His fierce ranger. Her hands found their way to the bottom of his soft velvet tunic and grasped it, starting to pull it up. He broke the kiss to reach down and slid it off over his head.

“Hells Gale, you’ve been hiding all of this? Doesn’t seem fair, really, to keep this secret,” she teased as she saw him without so much as an undershirt on for the first time, her eyes moving down the lean athletic build of his body and fine covering of hair on his chest and stomach. She reached down to the hem of her own sleep tunic, pulling it over her head. The filtered moonlight cast a pale silvery glow on her breasts and her nipples started to pebble and harden against the slight chill in the late night air.

“I could say the same to you,” he said playfully in return. The scar on her cheek continued down past her collarbone almost to her left nipple, some areas thicker than others. He reached out and traced it with his fingers, pressing kisses into it as he followed his fingers with his mouth. A story for another time. Her breathing quickened as he reached his destination, taking the hard nipple in his mouth, sucking on it lightly as she gasped.

Something in the air changed, a new electricity charged between them.

“You’re so beautiful, Ora,” he said before moving to the other breast, giving it the attention it deserved. Her hands went to his head, running her fingers through his hair as she arched her back, pressing herself closer to him.

“I want you, Gale,” She said, her voice thick with lust.

“And you’ll have me before the night is done,” he smiled against her soft skin, toying at her nipple with his tongue before pressing a hand to her chest, laying her back on the bed. His hands went to the waistband of her leggings, his fingers slipping inside and rubbing along the softness of her stomach. “I want to watch you come undone for me first.” She lifted her hips to help him easily slide the fabric off her legs. He kissed each inch of newly bared skin as he pulled them off of her before discarding them on the ground beside the bed.

He looked at her in wonder as she laid before him, fully bared. So beautiful, so perfect. She propped herself up on her elbows, tilting her head to the side. “Everything okay?”

He smiled. “Everything is perfect. How did I get so lucky?” He kissed her ankle. “You are so stunning.” He kissed her knee. “I will never be able to fully tell you just how heavenly you look right now lying in front of me with nothing on, illuminated by moonlight. My divine Ora.” He wanted to worship her, to bow down at the altar of her body for the rest of his time on this plane. He kissed her thigh, higher and higher as he placed himself between her legs, spreading them and baring her sweet center to him. He could resist no longer. He looked up at her from between her legs as he flattened his tongue and tasted her for the first time. Her moan was an answer to the prayers on his lips and music to his ears, her taste was the sweetest nectar. He hooked his arms under her thighs, pulling her down to his mouth as he flicked her sensitive bundle of nerves with his tongue before sealing his mouth over it, sucking softly.

Her hips started to rock against his face as he hummed against her, sending vibrations through her body. He teased at her entrance with a finger, reveling in how warm and wet she was as he touched her. For him. Because of him. He paid special attention to that sensitive spot inside he remembered women liking from his dalliances years ago, before Mystra. No. No thoughts of Mystra tonight.

He turned his mind back to Ora, this beautiful, writhing woman who lay before him, who wanted him, who loved him. He added a second finger and moved them faster, in and out, his firm tongue working her in tandem as he devoured her. She had moved her hands to his head, her nails delightfully scratching his scalp as waves of pleasure washed over her and she began to unravel. He was relentless in the pursuit of her undoing, keeping a steady pace with both his hand and his tongue as she cried out his name and he felt her pulse as she reached her peak and crashed over. He crawled over her, kissing up her stomach to her breasts again, taking each one into his mouth before moving up to her neck. He finally kissed her lips, impossibly turned on as she kissed him back, tasting herself on him.

“My turn,” she said, smiling against his mouth as she pushed him onto his back, his desire clearly evident. She rubbed at his erection gently over his pants as she kissed his neck. Gods, I forgot how good that feels, he thought. He felt her starting to pull his pants down, and he lifted his hips off the bed to help her just as she did for him earlier. He was suddenly conscious about his body, wondering if it would be pleasing to her. His physical form hadn’t been important in matters of desire in so long, coming back to it made him feel like he was a teenager again, full of nerves and anticipation of learning what he liked. She wrapped her hand around him. He definitely liked that.

“Gods, Ora,” He inhaled sharply as she touched him, the first mortal touch he had had in years. She kissed his orb marking softly, then traced down the line of his stomach with kisses. What was she….oh. OH.

He rose up on his elbows, looking at her. “Ora, I don’t…are you sure? Please, don’t feel like you have to.”

She smiled at him, her eyes soft. “Let me give you the pleasure you gave me. We are equals here, in this bed, in this relationship. No one is above the other. Besides, I enjoy doing this, just like you do. Let me take care of you. Allow me this,” she said as she leaned down, taking the tip of him in her mouth, sucking gently.

Gale saw stars. He grasped at the bedsheets, the pleasure and desire coursing through him stronger than anything he had felt in so long, setting him ablaze. She took him deeper into her mouth, her head and hand working him in rhythm as she hummed against his hardness. His hips started to rock, moving with her as he moaned loudly. At this rate, it would not be long before he finished, and he wanted his first time to be inside her.

“Ora, I need to be inside you, please,” he practically begged. He was at the mercy of her, of his new goddess. “Please, let me.”

“I want you, Gale,” she said.

“Come here,” he smiled, guiding her up to him, a finger hooked under her chin as he kissed her deeply, laying her back on the bed. “I want to watch you, see you when I finish inside you,” he whispered in her ear before kissing her again.

He used his thigh to spread her legs, running his fingers across her slick entrance before holding himself to her. His heart was pounding. He knew this was a line they could never uncross. It was a line he knew with absolute certainty he wanted to cross, but he had to be sure it was the same for her.

“Are you sure you want this, Ora? Do you want me?” He looked her in the eyes, his tip pressed against her. He needed to hear her say it.

“I want you,” she repeated, closing her eyes and moaning softly as he pressed in, sinking into her.

Every thought left his head as he felt her give around him, all warm and soft velvet against his hardness. He closed his eyes as he fully seated himself within her, staying still for a moment, reacquainting himself with this feeling - how had he ever derided this as “just” pleasures of the mortal flesh? This was everything. This was better than anything metaphysical. She had converted him. Astral pleasure could no longer compare to this. This was real.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, whispering his adoration to her. He wrapped his arms around her, pressing her close, their bodies in complete contact as he began to thrust into her with slow, deep rolls of his hips, feeling every inch of her as he pulled almost all the way out and pressed fully back in again. Ora wrapped her arms around his back, her fingertips digging into his skin.

He pulled back, settling up on his knees between her legs. She looked so perfect laid out on her back before him, his length sheathed deep inside her. He continued his same slow rhythm, thrusting back into her a little harder than before, watching where their bodies joined in awe and wonder.

“Gale…you feel so…so good,” she moaned, her hands moving to his thighs, holding on to him, rocking her hips to meet his.

“You feel better than any heavens, Ora. Better than I could have imagined all those nights I thought about taking you, imagining doing this with you.” He said, remembering the nights in his tent after his orb was stabilized where he pictured Ora in a similar position to the one she was currently in as he used his hand to pleasure himself. It didn’t even compare.

He couldn’t hold back any longer, Desire, lust, and the discovery of how good sex with her could be drove him. He moved her legs so her feet were on his shoulders, and started thrusting into her deeper, faster. He kissed her calf, her ankle, the side of her foot, punctuating each kiss with a soft “I love you.”

His fingers dug into her hips as he grasped them to lift them up, allowing him to get even deeper inside her. He needed to be as deep as possible, as close to her as possible. He watched her. Her cheeks were flushed, her breasts bounced, her back arched against the bed as he hit a spot that drove her wild. He had once thought watching her fight was like watching an opera. Watching her while making love was like viewing the finest art.

“I’m so close,” she panted. He felt her tightening around him, getting close as his own precipice drew near.

“Come for me, Ora. I want to hear you call my name while I’m buried inside you,” he said as he reached between them and began rubbing her at her most sensitive spot, feeling her hips jerk at the slight touch. He felt her tighten around him, the feeling drawing him even closer as the fire in his abdomen grew hotter. “But look at me when you do.”

She opened her eyes, and just the sight of them darkened with desire almost sent him over the edge right then and there.

She cried out, his name on her lips as her body froze and then shattered around him. He felt her shudder and pulse as her orgasm rocked through her. He kept thrusting through it, harder, faster, lost to his own finish as she held onto his arms tightly, her nails slightly digging in.

He felt his abdomen tighten. He maintained eye contact and drove himself into her one last time as she nodded and writhed underneath him before he felt himself fill her with his own release, crying out her name loudly for all the gods to hear. Panting, he stayed buried within her as his orgasm shuddered through him. She was covered in a thin sheen of sweat and most of her hair was loosened from her twisted ponytail, and he could only imagine he looked similar. She looked so beautifully undone.

Finally he pulled out of her, instantly feeling cold without her warmth enveloping him. He was changed, wholly and truly. He was a different man from earlier this evening. He crawled beside her and dropped to the bed, planting a kiss on her shoulder.

“I love you, Ora.”

“I love you, Gale.”

******

Auroria curled into Gale, resting her head on his chest as they both came down from such blissful heights. She traced the lines of the orb marking as he lazily ran his fingers up and down her back. She felt herself drifting off to sleep when she heard it, the faintest whisper.

“I will stay with you. I will live.”

#gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 fanfiction #gale fanfiction #gale x tav #gale x f!tav #gale x auroria #woodweave #weave and woods fic #weave and woods #bg3 ao3 #my writing

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rainbow-rey · 2 months

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Willy's Special Rod

Willy x Reader - MDNI!!

Summary: Willy shows the farmer how he uses his rod.

Tags: reader-insert, pov first person, p in v, creamp/e, size k/nk

Posted on ao3 as a oneshot and part of a collection

I wake up and are instantly reminded of what I was doing last night, before I went to bed. I grab a coffee, sipping it slowly as I remember my intense orgasms, thanks to the help of my glass dildo. I feel my pussy getting wet from the memories. I clear my throat and leave the house, forcing myself to focus on the morning’s tasks. There’s a letter in the mailbox this morning, and it’s from Willy. I can feel my pussy clench, picturing his beard, his broad shoulders, his essence. What does he want? I want to open it, but instead I stick it in my pocket, saving it for after I collect today’s crops.

Once the animals are fed, pumpkins are harvested, and the fruit cave is checked, I can finally open Willy’s letter. I open it eagerly and read it aloud.

"Come to the beach at six… That’s it?" I cry, disappointed. Maybe I shouldn’t have expected much. Willy isn’t the poet type, and I feel silly for maybe wanting something more from him.

As I’m working, I can’t help but think about Willy. I’ve been having taboo thoughts about him ever since I met him last spring, so I was thrilled when he finally suggested an arrangement for us. I provide him with release whenever he wants, and he gives me bait and equipment.

Willy is undeniably hot. He has a strong, masculine air to him, one that you don’t find in guys my age. I’d been touching myself to him since the first day I met him. He gave me my fishing rod and showed me how to cast it, wrapping his arms around mine as he guided them and whispered instructions in my ear. The sight of him handling his rods, wrapping his thick fingers around the handles. I remember going home and finding my pussy wetter than I’d ever gotten before. I had no choice but to pound myself with my dildo, pretending it was Willy’s thick cock. My pussy is drenched at the memories, and I have to squeeze my thighs together. Willy makes me so aroused it hurts. I contemplate going inside and masturbating before I leave, but I check my watch and I only have an hour before I have to be at the beach. I run inside quickly to get dressed, forcing myself to ignore my overly inviting dildo. I unbutton the first two buttons of my shirt and fluff up my hair in the hallway mirror before heading back out. I set off for the beach.

I walk down the dock, approaching Willy. I tap his shoulder, admiring the way his arms fill out his shirt so nicely. I fight the choking-themed thoughts that come.

"Y/N, you’re here," Willy says. "I was worried you wouldn’t show."

"Of course I’m here," I smile. "I like this shirt on you, by the way."

"Thank you, Y/N." The way he says my name has my hole gushing. What is it with this man? "Come inside. I’ve been waiting for you.”

Slick oozes out of my cunt as I think about him and his veiny cock. It’s easily the biggest one I’ve seen before, and I can barely take all of him in my mouth at once. I only imagine how he would feel inside me; so far he’s only asked me to use my hands, mouth, and one time he wanted me to use my tits. I’ll never forget his groans whenever I licked his tip when it showed from between my boobs.

I follow Willy inside his shop. He pulls me behind the counter. I instinctively get on my knees in front of him and reach to undo his pants, but today he stops me.

“I have a different idea today, Y/N,” he says gently. God, he’s hot.

“What do you need today, Willy?” I ask him. It doesn’t take a genius to notice the way his cock twitches when I say his name.

“Well, I’ve been thinking recently…” He takes my chin with his fingers and tilts my face up to meet his. His hazel eyes are a piercing shade, tinted with lust.

“You’ve been… thinking? About what?” I won’t lie, I don’t really care about what he has to say. I just need to feel his cock somewhere and I’ll be happy. Right now, I don’t feel him anywhere, and I’m a little impatient.

Willy notices my impatience. “I won’t beat around the bush. I’ve been wondering what your pussy would feel like.”

I can’t control the blush that appears on my face, and I’m now feeling flustered. Finally! It’s taken far too long for him to ask. “Do you mean—“

“I want my cock in your cunt. Would you like that, Y/N?” His voice is raspy, laced with desire. I imagine that’s what he sees in my face, too, and there’s no other way my eager nod can be interpreted otherwise.

Willy reaches for my hands and pulls me up to sit on the counter. He trails his hand along my body, making me shiver. His fingers reach the buttons on my shirt.

“Can I undo these?” he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

I nod. I can feel his dick pressing against my center as he moves closer to me, rock-hard and straining against the fabric of his pants. All the heat in my body rushes down to my cunt as Willy groans in approval, noticing that I went braless today. His fingers graze my nipples and I moan. It’s been forever since I felt the touch of a man, and I’m so glad he’s the one with his hands on me. Willy is gentle yet deliberate with his actions, pinching my nipples and squeezing my tits. I whine when he pulls away from my chest, but it’s worth it when he starts to slide down my skirt.

“Hips up, baby,” he says, and I use his shoulders as leverage to let him pull the fabric off my ass. The underwear I’m wearing underneath is pretty normal, but I don’t have time to stress about them when he pulls them off too.

Willy gets one look at my pussy and groans. “Fuck, Y/N, you’re soaked for me. You’ve been wanting this?”

I nod, feeling my cheeks flush.

“Such a good girl,” he says under his breath, grinning. Willy starts removing his own clothes. “Can I see you touch yourself for me, baby?”

I oblige. I lick my fingers, sucking them like I suck his cock. My eyes don’t leave his. After I’ve properly lubed my fingers, I drag them down to my gushing, hot cunt. My middle and ring fingers dip just barely into my hole, and I can feel the sticky, wet fluids inside me. Willy looks more turned on than I’ve seen him before, so I take it as a good sign and start rubbing my clit. I moan softly, the feeling only amplified when I see Willy start to stroke his cock to the sight of me. I rub my clit faster, and my well-lubed fingers make any potential friction cease. The sounds of my fingers on my cunt turn me on, as well as Willy, whose hand is moving at a speed that would make me cum instantly if he was inside me. I don’t make any signs of stopping the pleasure on my clit, instead waiting for him to finally say the magic words.

“I’m about to come—“ he cries.

“Don’t do it yet,” I tell him, removing my hand from my pussy and watching him unwillingly move his hand too. He looks disappointed, but the look goes away when I tell him, “I want you in my cunt.”

The gleam in his eyes is unmistakable as he lines himself up with my entrance. Willy pushes his unbearably thick tip inside me before pulling out, making me whine. I’m not sad anymore, however, when he drags his now-lubricated tip on my clit in slow, carefree motions.

“Please…” I whine.

“Please what, baby?” Willy doesn’t stop the teasing motions on my clit.

“Fuck me, Willy. I need to feel your thick cock in my wet cunt,” I cry. I can’t help it anymore. I’m so close to finally getting what I’ve wanted for months.

And holy shit, when that wish is granted, it feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.

Willy’s cock is big. I knew that, but I didn’t quite know just how big it really was. No dildo can ever satisfy me the way he can. The minute I feel him press into my hole, I know I’m in for the ride of my life.

His cock reaches every single part of my cunt. I feel full in a way nothing could have ever made me feel except for him. At first, he just slides in his cock, letting me adjust to his size. I can feel my pussy molding to his length as he pushes into me. When I think he’s done inserting himself, he manages to fit more in.

“Is it all in yet?” I ask, almost desperate.

“Almost, baby.”

Finally, I feel his balls hit my ass. Willy stays in this position for a bit, really making sure that my cunt won’t ever take dick that isn’t his without being disappointed.

Slowly, Willy starts to thrust. With each one, his fat dick hits every spot in me, making me scream as he rubs my g-spot over and over and over. I feel pleasure I didn’t know was possible. The amount of slick that has come out of my hole between arriving at the shop and now ensures that there’s no friction at all. I’ve never been as turned on as I am right now, tits bouncing as Willy pounds my pussy over his countertops. No amount of porn can capture how utterly amazing this sex is.

Willy puts his hands on my hips to steady me as he speeds up his thrusts. I cry out each time he bottoms out in me. The room echoes with sex sounds, between his balls slapping against my ass, our combined moans, and the obscene slick noises that come when his cock slides in and out of my soaked cunt.

I think this situation can’t get any better, but Willy decides to lean over me on the counter, making direct eye contact with me as he destroys my swollen pussy. I’m tempted to lean up slightly and bring my lips to his—but he does it first.

His lips against mine, his hands on my hips, his cock in my hole… It doesn’t get any better than this. His tongue slides between my lips and now we’re making out as he continues to pound his thick, long cock inside me. Every thrust makes me scream into his mouth, and he doesn’t let up. My back arches and my pussy clenches as I feel my body heat gathering near my cunt, amplifying the feeling of him penetrating me.

Soon, I can’t help it anymore, and I don’t think he can, either. When I pull away from our kiss and scream, “I’m coming!” he doesn’t stop his pace until I can feel my lower lips flutter around him. Only then does he slow down the speed of his thrusts, filling my insides with hot cum. Willy collapses on top of me, pulling me into a soft kiss.

“We should do this again soon,” he whispers in my ear.

Kudos and comments are appreciated <3

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dragon-creates · 11 months

Text

Sorry Bowser, But Your Fiancé Is In Another Castle

Read on AO3

Hello!!! Its been a while since I published anything, things in life have just been hectic like college and family, and I'm also working on some multichapter fics that I'm planning on publishing soon. But I wanted to write this for my birthday as my gift to all of you. Today I officially turn 20 years old and I wanted to give this fic to you guys as a thank you for this year.

@angelxd-3303 @baggedbees @heythereyoucutie @angelfangs-666 @bowserslittleprincess @tapetmal @omgmax221 @vampireopossum @liabloodx @chrissymorgan9700 @rottmnt23lover @beetlegoose01 @rivthescetch @rosiethedragongeek @spazzitazz @cool-taya @pumkinqueen @kettlepotmadness @oh-my-gosh-its-j0sh @tuna-jsgross @tanookileaves @starvingcritter @sirdeath41412 @trianna-phoenix @that-one-fangirl123 @hiimyourmom @1st-lil-poet @randompostsyayy @pikagirl18 @madeofmanyfandoms @timberwolfofthelostforest @theluckycollectorcolorposts @moonetta-art @mysweetloveismyjohn @i1lyidkstupid @roze-realm @danger-ghost @meep-13 @daisysrose @mefiman @zomboi-intel @thegayjokester @hyperfixatingonbowuigisohard @wogwoman

Whether you started following me for mario bros/bowuigi content or for another fandom entirely, I wanted to dedicate this birthday fic to all of you. (I’m so sorry if I didn’t mention you I couldn’t get you all in). If it wasn't for you I wouldn't have had this surge of creativity for the past year, I've got a few fics still in progress but after some time I hope ya'll will stick around for what I have in store. So that being said, even though its my birthday, this if a gift that I personally want to give from me to you. I hope ya'll like it and please stay safe xx.

Congratulations! If you have received this invitation, that means that you have been invited to the wedding of King Bowser and King Consort Luigi! The wedding will take place at the Darklands castle 11th of June at 12:00PM sharp. Wear your best formal attire, a gift for the happy new couple and a smile. Hope to see you there!

King Boo let out an inhuman screech as he ripped up the letter. One of his boos had been scavenging secretly across the lands, finding a scattered invitation to the royal wedding and rushing back to give it to their king.

The poltergeist was fuming! Not only did his former associate double cross him and partner up with the Mushroom Kingdom to defend the rest of the lands from the ghost’s terror, but King Bowser was marrying his arch nemesis of all people, Luigi!

It didn’t seem that long ago when Bowser was chasing after the poofy pink Princess Peach, going so far to steal the superstar in order to do so. If it weren’t for the arrival of those pesky colourful humans did things start going haywire. Ever since Bowser was defeated by the red plumber and his younger brother, the koopa couldn’t stop thinking about the latter. Whenever King Boo visited Bowser’s realm, he would drone on and on about that stupid green man. First, he complained about how a low-life prisoner managed to defeat him and stop the star-crossed love between him and his ‘Peaches’, then it turned into begrudging admiration for the human (“I never thought someone so small could pack such a punch,” he remembered Bowser saying), and then the sickening realisation of Bowser realising his feelings for the green plumber had King Boo about to lose his final straw.

He was going to make Bowser realise how pathetic that human was and make him go back to his scheming ways! And so, he devised a plan, he was going to lead Luigi hear with the false pretence of him winning a mansion, trap his brother in a painting to lure Luigi to his doom, have his minions scare the living daylights out of him and trap him as well! Once that would happen, he was going to show Bowser the painting, make him realise how pathetic the human was and the two would return to world domination! (He had even arranged for a large model of the koopa king to frighten the little plumber).

However, his plans were foiled by a pesky little scientist, going by the name of Doctor E. Gadd. Apparently, he saved Luigi with the help of some type of vacuum that was able to suck up his boos and ghosts, leading to the two humans partnering up and the plumber taking down the ghostly king himself.

King Boo had never been so humiliated in all his life! And worst of all, after he managed to escape, it only caused Bowser to fawn over the human even more. Soon, Bowser would ease up on his plans to take over the Mushroom Kingdom and woo Princess Peach, instead, focusing on creating a steady friendship with the little green man. Of course, it didn’t go so well at first – the first meeting was Bowser imprisoning Luigi over lava after all – but over time, they started meeting in secret, going to meadows that the plumber had found due to his love of gardening, Luigi sending little treats to the koopa king, spending time with Bowser Jr and the koopalings, even going as far to pretending to be ‘kidnapped’ by Bowser so that he would be able to derail Mario from finding out about the two.

Eventually, King Boo tried his mansion plan again, twice actually! The first time was during the Dark Moon eclipse, forcing the ghosts E. Gadd had befriended to do King Boo’s bidding, the other was when he had joined forces with Helen Gravely and her haunted hotel. Yet again though, Luigi managed to foil both plans, each one of them ending up with King Boo captured.

When King Boo managed to escape again, he expected Bowser to at least be nonchalant about his intentions with capturing Luigi. However, when he arrived at the Darklands and saw Luigi there with the koopa king, all the poltergeist could see was red at this pesky plumber. He was going to attack the human and finish him once and for all, until he was met face first with a scaly fist and plummeted against one of Bowser’s stone statues of himself. When he gathered himself, he saw that the large koopa was on all fours, fangs bared and growling with smoke coming out of his nostrils and a protective arm around Luigi – who was trembling on the ground while clutching the king’s arm in fright.

King Boo had seen Bowser angry plenty of times before, but this, this was something he had never seen before. It was almost primal, animalistic and was never this reactive when it came to Peach. With a snarl, Bowser only said two words so quietly yet held nothing but danger. “Get out.”

That was all King Boo needed to hear to immediately flee the scene. Eventually, he learnt that during his imprisonment in E. Gadd’s lab, Bowser had been working on forming an alliance with the Mushroom Kingdom, going so far as to signing a peace treaty. Both he and Luigi had even revealed their relationship to the Princess and Mario, though while sceptical, were still accepting to the two as a couple.

And now here he was, with a ripped-up letter and a wedding on the horizon. How could Bowser do this to him?! He was King Bowser, lord of all things evil and set anyone ablaze if they ever tried to tell him what to do! And he was King Boo, the tyrannical ghost king ready to frighten the literal life out of anyone! Together, they could’ve taken over the remaining puny kingdoms and strike terror into anyone who opposed them. Now, Bowser was kissing the boots of a stupid plumber and about to marry him as well! This would not do at all.

“Ready my airships!” he screamed at one of his subjects, jumping at the sudden noise, “I want my armies to be ready by the date of the royal wedding!”

“But sire,” the smaller boo spoke up quietly, “You ripped up the letter, it had the date on it.”

“Does that look like my problem?!” he seethed at the minion, who quickly shook his head, “Then go find it out for yourself, and don’t come back until my armies and ships are ready to leave!”

“Yes, my king,” the boo bowed and fazed through one of the walls.

King Boo grumbled under his breath, an evil sneer creeping onto his face. If Bowser wanted to pretend to be the good guy, fine, he’ll treat him like the good guy alright. And he had just the plan to do so.

“Are you feeling okay Babbo?” Junior asked, letting out a small purr as he uncurled himself from Luigi’s lap to look at his soon-to-be stepdad.

“Huh?” Luigi broke out of his trance, meeting Junior’s worried look, “Oh, I’m fine baby, just pre-wedding nerves.”

“Don’t worry, Papa loves you so much to the point its grossing everyone out!” The smallest koopaling buried his face into Luigi’s neck, “Trust me, nothing is gonna stop him from marrying you today! He’d even marry you while dressed like that!”

“Junior, I’m not even ready yet,” Luigi chuckled. The human was wearing a fluffy baby blue robe as he waited for Peach, Daisy, Rosalina and his brother to get back with make-up, his wedding dress and food, to make sure he had something to eat before the banquet later.

“Exactly!” Junior chortled, “Papa was never this way with Peach, he looks at you like you’re a million superstars! Everything will be fine Dad, I promise!”

“Aw, thanks ragazzino,” Luigi cooed, hugging his stepson tightly before Luigi’s bedroom door opened and in came Mario, Polterpup and the princesses, “Junior here was making sure that I wasn’t feeling nervous before the wedding.”

“Aw, buddy!” Mario grinned and ruffled his nephew’s hair, who giggled at his uncle’s antics.

“Junior, could you go check on your father please?” Peach suggested, “I have the feeling he might also need one of your pep talks, you’ll also need to get ready as well. Take Polterpup as well, Kamek told me that he wanted to practice walking down the aisle with the rings one last time.”

“Okay Aunt Peach, come on Polterpup,” Junior jumped off Luigi’s lap and make his way out with the pooch by his side, shutting the door behind him.

Mario turned to his younger brother, “You doing okay Lu?”

“Yeah,” Luigi nodded, “Just a little nervous, you know?”

“Do you think you’re able to eat something?” Mario asked.

“Yeah, I think I’m able to,” Luigi gave his big brother a small smile.

“I hope so,” Daisy spoke up, “Cause your mom just gave us a buttload of pizza and man does it smell good!”

As soon as she placed the bags down, Luigi caught a whiff of the familiar homemade smell of his mother’s pizza and his stomach began to growl.

“Your mother is very kind Luigi,” Rosalina said, taking a slice for herself, “Though, I will admit, she did seem quite perplexed when Daisy and I had to correct her when she assumed we were…” her hand covered her mouth as she tried to hold back a laugh, “friends.”

“Oh no!” Luigi started to laugh as well as Peach, Daisy and Mario, clutching their stomachs at the thought of his poor mother’s confused face, “Poor ma!”

“I know!” Daisy cackled, “And the moment she realised she started apologizing for assuming and I was trying so hard not to burst, the poor woman!”

“Now, now Daisy darling,” Rosalina put her hand on her partner’s shoulder, “This is not the time to lose our composure over a silly mistake.”

Daisy let out another breathy giggle and placed her hand over Rosalina’s, “You’re right Rosa, though you have to admit, I was doing a much better job at controlling myself than you.”

The tall blonde raised an eyebrow at the shorter brunette, “Oh is that so?”

“Uh, yeah!” Daisy smirked, placing her hands on her hips, “You couldn’t stop trembling from trying to keep yourself together until you let out the loudest snort I ever heard!”

Rosalina rolled her eyes fondly, tucking a lock of Daisy’s hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek. “If that’s what makes you feel better, beloved,” she nuzzled her nose against her girlfriend’s, secretly relishing the way her cheeks flamed.

Daisy pouted and crossed her arms over her chest, “That’s cheating.”

“Alright lovebirds,” Peach made her way over to the other two princesses, “How about we focus on our groom here and making sure he’s prepared for his wedding.”

Daisy lit up at that, “Hell yeah!”

“I agree, we should keep our priorities in order,” Rosalina nodded.

Mario gripped his younger brother’s shoulders, “What do you say Lu? Food first then the make-up and dress?”

“Yeah,” Luigi leaned into Mario’s touch, “That sounds great.”

“Alright!” Peach cheered, “Strap yourselves in ladies and gentlemen, we’re gonna make a magical wedding!”

Everyone seemed to light up at Peach’s words. Once they pizzas were devoured, Mario had gone behind a divider to put on his tuxedo while the princesses focused on Luigi’s make-up, each of them having a turn before letting the other take over so they could put their own make-up on. It was a simple look they went for, white eyeshadow that held a little bit of sparkle, a soft pink blush and a peach coloured and flavoured lip gloss (it had belonged to the princess of that same name).

Once Mario was changed, the girls went behind the divider to change into their bridesmaids’ dresses while the older brother assisted Luigi with his gown.

The princesses emerged a while later wearing similar yet different dresses. Each dress had the same glittering tulle fabric, sweetheart neckline and full-length pleated skirt, the only different being the colours and sleeves. They all had the princesses’ respective royal colours, pink, yellow and blue, while Peach had short puff sleeves, Rosalina had off -the-shoulder ones that ended at the start of her wrists and Daisy wore no sleeves at all.

The girls gasped when they saw Luigi in his white wedding dress for the first time. It had a sheer blouse with little buttons leading from the collar to the bodice on top, which had a straight neckline and was embroidered with glittering vines, starting from the top of the neckline and ending at the top of a puffy, shimmering ballgown skirt. It was all topped off with a silver, sparkly tiara rested on the top of his head.

“Oh Luigi!” Peach brought her hands to her mouth, holding back tears, “You look-”

“-You look smoking baby!” Daisy grinned, bumping her hips against his as Luigi smiled bashfully.

“I agree with Daisy,” Rosalina nodded, taking her girlfriend’s hand into her own, “You look wonderful Luigi.”

Luigi rubbed his hands nervously, “Thank you everyone,” Luigi sniffed, Mario gently wiped the tear away so it wouldn’t ruin his make-up. Luigi let out a heavy sigh, “I think my nerves are acting up again.”

“Everything is gonna be fine Lu,” Mario reassured him, wrapping an arm around his younger brother and rubbed his back, “The moment Bowser sees you, he’s probably propose a thousand more times!”

That made Luigi laugh a little bit, some of his tension starting to relieve.

“Your brother is right Luigi,” Rosalina took a step towards him, “I’ve seen how Bowser looks at you and trust me when I say that I know how he feels about you since…I feel the same way with someone else.” Rosalina turned her head towards her girlfriend, Daisy squeezing the blonde’s hand as her smile widened.

“Also,” Peach started, “The big fella hasn’t been able to keep his hands off you ever since the two of you met, you’ve got him wrapped around your finger and I’m dying to see the look on his face when he sees you in that dress.”

“Hey, maybe I should wear a dress when we get married?” Mario suggested.

Peach squealed at her fiancé, “Yes! You would look so adorable in a dress! We would match and-!”

“-Okay heteroes, slow down,” Daisy interjected, shaking her head fondly at the pink princess and her plumber, “This day isn’t about you, let’s put our focus back on our groom here.”

“Well, what about you Daisy,” Luigi smirked at his friend, “You and Rosalina have been together for quite a while, when are you two getting hitched?”

Daisy spluttered and gasped while Rosalina’s face went as red as a tomato and hide her face in her hands at Luigi’s cheeky question. “H-hey! We haven’t- well we have talked but- It’s none of your business Luigi!” Daisy pouted, stomping over to her girlfriend, and burying her head in the blonde’s chest as Rosalina wrapped her arms around the shorter princess and hid her face in Daisy’s brown hair.

Peach and Mario absolutely lost it at what Luigi said, the latter slapping his knee as he and Peach howled with laughter. “Dang bro!” Mario wiped a tear from his eye, “You really have been spending quite some time with Bowser, haven’t you?!”

Luigi smiled softly, his mind drifting to the koopa, “Yeah…and today marks the start of a new life with him.”

Mario took his brother’s hand, “It’s almost time to go out soon, you ready?”

“Yeah,” Luigi nodded, “I really am.”

Peach wrapped her arms around her soon to be brother-in-law, “We’re so happy for you Luigi. And if you’re still feeling nervous, something tells me that Bowser also just as nervous as you are.”

“What? No way,” Luigi retorted with a snort, “I’ll bet you that Bowser isn’t freaking out right now.”

“I am totally freaking out right now!” Bowser hissed through clenched teeth. The wedding was taking place at the top of the volcano inhabiting Bowser’s floating castle. The seats were flooded with members of each kingdom – including his own subjects, the Mushroom Kingdom’s, Sarasaland’s, the Luma’s, the Jungle Kingdom, The Penguin Kingdom and Luigi’s family as well (Luigi’s mother, while sweet, still scared the life out of Bowser).

The king of the koopa’s was praying to whatever god was out there that he wasn’t sweating through his three-piece-suit. He wore a black blazer and trousers with accents on the cuffs of both that were shaped and coloured like fire. Underneath the blazer was a red blouse and covering his feet were a pair of shiny coal boots. His hair was swooped to the side and had decorated his eyes with eyeliner to make them pop out more. Now he really hoped he wasn’t sweating right now as he thought about that make-up.

“You’re gonna be fine Papa,” Junior piped up, his little ‘best man’ standing by his side, “Babbo was worrying about the same thing earlier, he wants to marry you as much as you want to marry him.”

“But he’s not here yet!” He whispered to his son, “Why’s he not here yet? Is he hurt? Did he change his mind and realise that I’m not good enough for him?!”

“If I may sire?” Kamek said, standing next to his surrogate son to officiate the wedding, “The reason he’s not here yet is because its not time for him to walk down the aisle, we still have five minutes before the ceremony starts. Also, that young man is one of the sweetest humans that I have ever met in my entire life, his dedication to the love that you to share is the strongest that I’ve ever seen. I find it impossible that he has changed his mind about his decision to marry you.”

Bowser sighed, “You’re right Kamek, you’re right. I know Luigi would never do that. Its just…I love him so much; I don’t ever want to lose him or have anything happen to him.”

Kamek smiled, “I’m aware sire and I think what you two have is wonderful. Now straighten your back, wipe that sweat off your brow and pull yourself together.”

“I can’t help that I’m sweating!” Bowser retorted, wiping the back of his head against his forehead, “Why is it so damn hot!”

“Dad, we literally live inside a volcano, of course its hot,” Junior deadpanned, “Also, you’ve been in heat hotter than this and literally never said a word!”

Bowser’s eyes widened, “Oh.”

It was when the strings from the wedding band’s instruments began to pluck did Bowser take Kamek’s advice, fixing himself up as he looked towards the doors that Luigi would be walking out of soon. The subjects from each kingdom and Luigi’s family turned as to the doors as well (Luigi’s niece had also began recording everything on their phone). The princesses walked out first in a triangle formation, making their way to the end of the aisle as they stood to the side where Luigi would be soon. Peach nodded respectfully to Bowser, the latter nodding back knowing that the pink princess was happy that this wedding would have her or anyone else be forced into marrying the koopa king. Then it was Polterpup’s turn, the ghostly dog prancing down with a red bow around his neck as he carried a pillow with the rings to the end of the aisle.

Once she made her way to her spot, the strings of the band softened. Bowser’s stomach churned, looking to the ground as he shuffled his feet nervously. It was only when he heard gasps from the crowd, did he finally look up. His jaw dropped. With his arm linked with his older brother’s to give him away, Luigi started walking down the aisle. He was so beautiful, to the way his eyes sparkled with the skirt of his dress, his blush blossoming against his cheeks and the smile he gave Bowser as he got closer and closer to him.

All of Bowser’s doubts went away as he returned the smile to his soon-to-be-husband. Everything was going to be fine; he was going to get married to the most amazing man he ever met and be the happiest he had ever been in his life.

He held his hands out to Luigi, who shared one more look with his older brother. Mario nodded, taking Luigi’s small hands into Bowser’s as he went over to join Peach. Bowser tightened his grip on his fiancé’s hands ever so gently as Luigi’s smile turned watery, joy talking over the tiny human. It seemed to be infecting Bowser as well, for the same look started to appear on his face as well.

It was perfect.

Kamek cleared his throat, “Dearly belove-haackkkk!!!!!”

Everyone gasped as a rock collided to the magikoopa’s back, sending him to the ground unconscious. Bowser wanted to go check on him, but the roaring of an airship had him whipping his head round to find the culprit who did this. A growl left his throat as he found out who’s airship this was once he saw the emblem on the front.

“King Boo,” Luigi whimpered.

Bowser could feel his fiancé trembling, stepping in front of him to protect him from the boos and ghosts starting to pour out of the ship and spooking some of the guests in their seats. Polterpup growled at the invaders who had frightened his master plenty of times before.

A wicked cackle echoed throughout the air, making everyone jump as King Boo appeared in front of Bowser and Luigi. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t the happy couple!” he grinned maliciously, “I sure hope I didn’t ruin anything!”

“You weren’t wanted here Boo!” Bowser snarled at the poltergeist, “Leave while you can before you find out if you’re able to die twice!”

King Boo let out a fake, melodramatic gasp, placing his hand to his mouth as though he were offended, “Now Bowser, is that really any way to greet an old friend? I’m simply here to offer my congratulations, or rather, my condolences. After all, since your ‘Peaches’ was already snatched up by Mario over here, you’d have to go for leftovers instead.”

The disrespectful words that King Boo had for Bowser’s soon-to-be-husband was enough to infuriate Bowser. He swiped his claws at the ghost, sending King Boo back a few feet before crouching onto all fours in front of his fiancé in a protective stance, breath heaving with soft but threatening growls and a dangerous glint in his eyes and King Boo dared to come closer. “If you say one more word about my fiancé, I will make you regret every single time you’ve lured him to your mansions!”

“My, my!” King Boo drawled, a smirk on satisfaction creeping onto his pale – lack of – complexion, “Aren’t we defensive today?! I was merely stating the truth!”

“Then its clear that you have no idea what the truth is actually!” Bowser spat at him, “I love Luigi more than you can even comprehend, because of him I was able to be inspired to become better koopa and leader! Something that no one can say about you!”

King Boo grit his teeth and growled at that latest remark, when he saw that a few of his own subjects were giggling at Bowser’s words he sent them a cold glare, reminding them of their place. “At least I haven’t become soft enough to not expect an attack,” he turned to his boos, “GET THEM!”

In a flash, the boo’s and the koopa were immediately at each other’s throats. The toads were trying to lead the guests and Junior back into the castle to avoid them getting hurt, Rosalina had pulled out her hidden wand from her sleeve and casting spells to avoid the boo’s attacks, Daisy wasn’t hesitating to punch and kick as hard as she could and had some colourful language each time a boo tried to land a hit on her before she retaliated – if the boo’s didn’t know not to mess with her before then they did now -, Mario and Peach were working together, each of them using and ice and fire flower respectively to try and form a wall of heat and cold to guard Luigi from King Boo. As for the couple, Bowser remained on all fours, blasting fire from his throat every time King Boo tried to take even an inch towards Luigi.

Luigi’s eyes darted around the place in panic, from his fiancé to his brother, to the princesses and King Boo as well. Polterpup was beside him as a source of comfort to prevent him from further spiralling. Is this why E. Gadd hadn’t shown up to the wedding? After all the old scientist expressed nothing but joy at his surrogate son getting married, did King Boo do something to make sure he didn’t intervene with his plans?! If only he had his Poltergust with him, instead of standing around doing nothing. He did want to help but his dress would prevent him from landing any attacks and he had the feeling that everyone was a bit more protective over him due to the sudden turn of events.

When things seemed like it couldn’t get any worse, the boom of a canon made Luigi’s blood run cold. Along the side of King Boo’s ship were cannons firing towards the alter, hitting close to everyone and sending them flying a few feet and landing on their sides.

Luigi got up from his spot after getting hit, the bottom hem of his skirt singed, his ears were ringing and his head was pounding. Looking up and seeing that Bowser was on the ground and good length away from him, the koopa king was trying to get up but put too much weight on an injured arm and collapsed to the ground again.

Forgetting the screaming headache, Luigi tried to rush to Bowser, but was snatched up by two boos. He felt himself being lifted from the ground, letting out a panicked cry as he was led away to King Boo’s ship.

The poltergeist grinned maliciously; everything was going according to plan. With a whistle, the rest of his boos stopped attacking and trailed back onto the ship.

After standing up and regaining his bearing, Bowser’s immediate instinct was to look for Luigi. His eyes widened when he couldn’t see his fiancé anywhere, only for his heart to plummet to the pit of his stomach when he finally saw Luigi being hauled away onto the ship.

“BOWSER!” Luigi cried out for him.

Injured arm be damned, Bowser was on all fours again, trying to chase after the ship and boos, “LUIGI!”

But it was too late, Luigi was gone and in King Boo’s grasp.

Everyone else was starting to come to, Mario rubbing his chest where he got hit before rushing to Peach and helping her to her feet. Rosalina had sat up from where she was sitting, cradling a barely lucid Daisy in her lap as the brunette tried to keep her eyes open. Even Kamek, who had remained from where he was hit, was finally waking up.

“Why does this always happen to me at weddings?” the magikoopa grumbled. However, his ceased with his mumbling when he saw his son pacing around on all fours, limping on his front left arm. “Bowser! What happened?! Here now let me see that arm!”

When Kamek when to touch his arm, the king whirled round and snarled at the new unknown threat, only to whimper with guilt when he saw that it was only his father figure trying to help. “Don’t worry, I know you’re not in the right headspace at the moment,” Kamek soothed the panicked koopa, “Just let me heal that arm of yours before it gets any worse. While I do that could somebody please tell me what on earth happened here!”

“It was King Boo,” Rosalina spoke up, still cradling Daisy in her arms as she stood up, “It seems as though he decided to invite himself last minute and left quite a…mess, to say the least.” The space princess grimaced as she looked around at the exploded seats, splattered wedding cake and singes in the walls as well.

“Wait a minute,” Mario looked around, realisation seeping in, “Did he take Luigi?!”

“I should’ve stopped him,” Bowser murmured as Kamek finished his healing spell, “I’m supposed to be stronger than this.”

“Now that is just nonsense!” Kamek spluttered, “King Boo is nothing but an unhappy overgrown marshmallow who thrives upon the misery of others who earn their happiness through kindness and courage. None of this is your fault.”

“You don’t understand,” Bowser shook his head, “When I proposed to Luigi I made a promise to him, his family and Mario that no matter what I would always protect him and love him as selflessly as possible, and I failed him before we could even exchange vows,” he turned to Mario, “I’m so sorry I broke my promise.”

“Hey!” Mario frowned, “I might not have understood you and Luigi at first, but the more I saw you too together, the more I realised who you truly are underneath that shell of yours. Luigi might not have changed you, but he did inspire you to become the version of yourself that you wanted to be. You loving Luigi made me see just how far you’ve come, Kamek’s right, its not your fault that King Boo is a selfish prick!”

“Mario!” Peach gasped.

Mario chuckled before turning back to the koopa, “You promised to keep Luigi safe and to love him selflessly, not for King Boo to kidnap him. If you really wanna keep your promise, we’re gonna get our shit together, storm King Boo’s castle and get my brother back!”

“Now that is something I can definitely agree on,” Kamek smiled, who had used his healing spell on everyone and was moving onto Daisy. The second he waved his wand, Daisy jumped out of her girlfriend’s arms, picked up a dropped sword from the ground and raised it above her head.

“LET’S KICK SOME BLOODY BOO ARSE” She screeched.

“Daisy,” Rosalina shook her head fondly at the brunette.

Bowser smiled softly, he took in his new family, the family he would be marrying into. He never thought he could be this happy, or that he was allowed to be this happy. But ever since meeting Luigi, he found himself confronting the worst parts of himself that he had avoiding for so long, denying that he was in the wrong. But the more he learned about the brothers’ adventures, about the evils that were worse than him, including Luigi’s trips to King Boo’s mansions, he knew that he wanted to be better than that. It took a lot of trial and error, but it was worth. He became a better ruler, a kinder soul, a gentle lover. All of that was thanks to Luigi.

Bowser finally stood to his full height, rolling his shoulders back and letting a few bones crack. “Let’s make King Boo pay.”

Everyone grinned at one another, plans already formulating in their heads on how to get Luigi back. “We can’t just waltz right in there with nothing, especially without a change of clothes,” she glanced down at her ruined dress, pouting at the state.

“We’ll also need someone who’s dealt with boos before,” Mario agreed.

“Then its decided,” Kamek spoke up, “After a change of clothes, we’ll head straight to E. Gadd and get his help. If King Boo has done something to him, we’ll have to act fast.”

Luigi sighed as he tried to unlock the door again. Once they arrived at King Boo’s castle, the mad ruler shoved him into an empty bedroom and locked the door behind him. He had to admit, the room was hauntingly beautiful, from the grey and black walls to the luxurious queen-sized canopy bed to the sparkling chandelier, it was a sceptical to look at. The cons however were the locked door and the lack of windows, reminding Luigi that he was still a prisoner.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, only that it was after the hundredth time of trying to unlock the door did, he give his tired hands a break. He kicked off his heels and collapsed onto the bed, he just wanted to go home. He wanted to hear his brother’s awful jokes, his family nagging at his to eat, to have tea with the princesses, play video games with Junior and snuggle up in Bowser’s arms as the koopa played the piano for him. Why was King Boo always trying to ruin things for him?! Could he not have one day where the ghostly king would leave him be?

Suddenly, a boo was floating through the wall, making Luigi let out a strangled gasp as he backed up on the bed, pressing his bed against the pillows. “Now, now dear boy there’s no need to panic,” the boo reassured him, “My name is Bingley, I’m only here to help with your fitting.”

“My what?”

“Your fitting, by King Boo’s orders,” Bingley informed him.

Luigi shook his head in disbelief, “Wait, wait, wait, why would King Boo-?”

“Please young sir, the master is already upset and anymore delays would only increase his anger,” Bingley pleaded with him and was over to Luigi in an instant, pulling him off the bed and in front of a mirror. In a flash, the boo had managed to pull out a roll of measuring tape, measure out each length of Luigi’s limbs and floated out the room again. Luigi only had a moment to pull himself together before Bingley floated back into the room with a black gown in his arms. “For you good sir. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to continue with preparations, I’ll leave you to get changed.”

“Wait I-!” Luigi called out, but to no avail, the boo was gone again. With a sigh, he held up the gown. It seemed nice enough, plus he was in enemy territory so refusing the garment could make things worse.

He carefully stripped off his white dress, laying it gently on the bed before pulling on the black one. Once he was complete, he looked at himself in the mirror. The new dress he wore consisted of a tight-laced over-bust corset with a poofy bertha across his collarbones and shoulders, lace bell sleeves that drooped over his wrists, a ruffled high-low skirt that trailed at the back and exposed his legs, lacey black tights that hugged his curved thighs generously and a pair of black heels were left by the side of his bed for him to complete his look.

Luigi flushed at the new look, while he loved wearing dresses and gowns along with his regular shirts and slacks, this was a style that he had never thought about trying before so he certainly wasn’t used to how this new outfit looked on him. It was nice but it left him blushing at the thought of walking out of this room wearing it.

Just as he was slipping on his heels, Bingley floated through the walls again, marvelling his work, “Oh marvellous, you look simply marvellous! I must say this is my best work yet. Now all we need is the veil and the look will be complete.”

“Veil!” Luigi spluttered, “Why do I need a veil?!”

“Isn’t it obvious Luigi,” The mocking voice of King Boo made Luigi freeze in his spot as he slowly turned to face the monarch, “We’re gonna get married!”

“…WHAT?!” Luigi screamed; fear started to settle in again.

“Well it makes sense, doesn’t it?” King Boo sneered, “Your beloved Bowser always kidnapped Peach back when he was a bad guy and you and your brother would always go meddling with his plans to get her back. But now since Bowser wants to be a goody-two-shoes, he thinks that he can get away with leaving our friendship behind! Well tough shit! If he wants to play the good guy, then he’s gonna get treated the way good guys should!”

“So let me get this straight, the only reason you’re marrying me is just to get back at Bowser for wanting to be a better person, or in his case koopa?” Luigi deadpanned.

“Well duh, you honestly think I’m doing this because I like you?!” King Boo gagged, Luigi didn’t know whether to feel flattered or offended that the thought of marrying him made the ghost feel sick. “I’m letting that dragon wannabe get a taste of his own medicine, the only difference is that when he’s getting here, he ain’t walking out with a victory or a bride in his arms.”

The monarch cackled, frightening Luigi all over again. Even before he and Bowser got together, he always believed that King Boo was the worse out of the two. Even though Bowser was great when they first met – to put it mildly- in a way, he still cared for his subjects and believed that his wrong actions were good in a way. There were even times as foes when the koopa would help him and his brother on missions, showing some light in the koopa that proved he was worth redemption. But with King Boo, he wasn’t in denial about being awful, he loved being horrible and committed each terrible actions with glee, and the way he spoke to and about his subjects make Luigi gawk at how someone could say such unkind things with a grin of his face.

The king took that as his sign to leave. Bingley followed behind, a sad look on his face. “I’m sorry,” was the last thing he said before disappearing.

Luigi sunk to his knees, the reality of the situation becoming much clearer than before, he could only hope that this would end how his and Mario’s adventures would and Bowser will be able to save him. “Oh Bowser,” he whimpered, “Please hurry,”

“This is where the old man stays?” the koopa king inquired, as he, the princesses, Mario and Kamek came up to the Evershade Valley Mansions, koopa and toad soldiers following behind. They had changed out of their formal attire before arriving, with Mario wearing his normal overalls, the princesses changed into their biker suits, Bowser had dawned his normal spiked neck and arm bracers while Kamek continued to war his blue cloak. Polterpup was currently trailing by Bowser’s feet, offering as much comfort as he could to his master’s fiancé.

“From what Luigi told me, E. Gadd continued his research here along with a few ghost that didn’t want to be acquainted with King Boo,” Mario informed the group, scanning his surroundings at the same time.

“I don’t know whether to a grateful or wary about the lack of ghosts here,” said Peach, clutching her axe “Keep your eyes open in case it’s a trap.”

“Whether the ghosts assisted King Boo with stabilising the doctor or they had no choice in the matter,” Kamek spoke up, “It is important to wait until we find E. Gadd before jumping to any conclusions.”

The group nodded in agreement when suddenly, Polterpup sniffed the air as a familiar scent was caught in the air. With an excited yip, he tore down the path down to the main mansion ahead.

“Polterpup, wait!” Bowser called out.

“We need to go after him,” said Mario, “He probably knows where E. Gadd is!”

Bowser turned to the guards outside, “You all stay there and keep watch, inform us immediately if you see anything suspicious!”

The soldiers nodded as the group chased down the little blur of white as the pup faded through the walls of the mansion. They opened the doors as carefully as they could, making sure not to alert any ghosts that could still be wandering by.

They spotted the little dog sniffing the floor, turning his head to the group as though he were telling them to follow him. Bowser was the first to move, desperate to find the doctor as soon as possible so that Luigi was back and safe with him. After a few twists and turns, Polterpup soon led them down a basement. Lo and behold, frozen in a painting was E. Gadd, his face frozen with terror. Polterpup whined at the state the old man was in, looking up to Bowser pleadingly.

Bowser patted the little dog’s head, “Don’t worry boy, we’ll get him out.” He turned to the others, “What was the device that Luigi used that helped get you out of the portrait?”

“He said something about a dark-light device,” said Mario, “I’ll go look for it, I’m quite familiar with place.”

“I’ll come with you,” Peach placed a hand on his shoulder, “I don’t want you doing this alone.”

“Are you sure?” Mario asked, “You’ve never been here before, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I know, but I have been caught by King Boo before, so I know how it feels,” Peach reassured him, “Besides, Luigi means a lot to me as well and I want to help get him back.”

Mario smiled warmly, taking Peach’s hand off his shoulder and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it, “Okay.”

“We’ll stay here with Bowser,” said Rosalina, gesturing to herself, Daisy and Kamek, “In case anything happens.”

Mario and Peach nodded, making their way back up the stairs as they searched the empty mansion.

“Be careful, the last thing we needed is someone sneaking up on us,” Mario told her.

“Don’t worry dear, I can handle myself,” Peach answered. When arriving at the second floor, the due came across a room that seem to be more lived in than the others. The sheets of the bed were clean, the wardrobe was half open and filled with clothing, and a chest with E. Gadd’s crest on the front of it. Peach turned to Mario with a proud smirk on her face, “I believe we have a lead.”

Mario grinned at the Princess as the two made there way over, “There seems to be a lock on this.”

“Stand back,” Peach gently pushed him away as the lifted the axe before her head, but before it could make contact with anything, a ghost burst its head out of the chest, startling her and making her fall back.

“Peach!” Mario cried out, rushing over to her and helping her up.

“Leave!” the ghost screeched, though not as angry as it tried to make itself out to be, it was more worried and fearful is anything, “Leave while you can!”

“Sorry,” Mario shook his head, “But I’ve got a brother to save.”

The sound of bars slamming the ground made the due whip their heads round, the door was blocked by some sort of ectoplasm bars and more ghosts teleporting into the room. With quick thinking, Peach slammed her axe down onto the chest, breaking it and revealing a poltergust and a dark light. Mario quickly grabbed the two items, slinging the poltergust onto his side and clipping the dark light to his belt, “Peach, cover me!”

The princess nodded, swinging her axe at any ghost that tried to come close to her or Mario. Quickly switching the poltergust on, he aimed it towards the first ghost that tried to attack them, as the poltergust began sucking the ghost in, Mario slammed him to the ground a few times before the ghost was fully stored inside. This continued on, with Peach guarding his back with her axe while Mario sucked in the ghosts. During this he couldn’t help but feel proud of his baby brother, this is what he did every time Mario was captured and managed to do it each time without fail. He was definitely going to pay for Luigi and Bowser’s honeymoon the second they find him.

Once the last ghost was sucked up, the duo raced out of the room and back down to the basement before they were stopped again. Bowser perked up the minute he saw the dark light.

“You got it!” Bowser exclaimed.

“Yeah, not without a little trail and error first,” Mario chuckled, “Stand aside, I’m getting the doctor out.”

As Bowser did that, Mario attached the dark light to the poltergust and aimed it to the painting. With the flick of the switch and the soft glow of the dark light doing its work, E. Gadd stumbled out on the painting and fell onto his bottom. Polterpup barked happily and went over to lick the old man’s face.

“Oh my, Polterpup please give me some space!” E. Gadd spluttered.

Bowser suppressed a laugh as he lifted the pup up with one hand, “It’s good to see you again doctor.”

“I express the same sentiments, although I do wish it was under different circumstances,” the old man muttered.

“Would you mind explaining what happened here?” Kamek asked.

“Well its simple really, I was preparing myself for Luigi’s wedding until that blasted King Boo barged in and grabbed my dark light before I had any time to react. When I tried to call out to my ghost friends, King Boo had forced them to assist him and threated that they face dire consequences if they didn’t do as he commanded. In the blink of an eye I was suddenly in the painting and was forced to listen to his plans with Luigi,” E. Gadd recounted his story.

“Plans with Luigi?” Bowser frowned, dread returning once again, “What plans does he have with my fiancé?”

“For some reason, that mad King believes that the best way to get back at you is kidnapping and marrying Luigi!” E. Gadd told him.

“He plans to what?” Bowser growled, the thought of his sweet and kind Luigi being forced to marry the one he feared most made his stomach churn.

“Apparently the king was quite upset that you left your friendship behind,” said E. Gadd, “He wants to recreate each time you’ve kidnapped Peach in order for you to get a taste of your own medicine.”

Daisy burst out laughing, “I really don’t mean to react like this but oh my god! Bowser’s finally getting karma I can’t believe it! This is what you get for kidnapping my best friend!”

“Daisy, please,” Rosalina sighed, “Don’t mind her, she means well.”

Bowser groaned and rubbed his face, “She’s kinda right though, I deserve this after putting Peach through all of my ridiculous plans.”

“Which you have shown remorse for and I’ve already forgiven you,” said Peach, “Now I believe you have a fiancé to rescue before he becomes someone else’s bride.”

The image of Luigi and King Boo flashing in his mind was what made his head get back into the game, “Doctor, tell me you have something to help save Luigi.”

“Well lucky for you my friends, I have learned a little titbit over my years of research,” the old man grinned, “Always make sure to pack extra.”

Luigi sighed as he clutched a bouquet of black roses as he waited at the doors that were attached to the castle ballroom. He wished he was back in the koopa kingdom, wearing the dress that he chose, walking down the aisle with Mario, smiling at all his friends and family as he and Bowser exchanged vows. Why did this always happen to him? And why did it have to be today of all days?

“Mister Luigi?” A little voice piped up.

Luigi looked to his left, a soft smile forming on his lips as he saw a little baby boo by his side, “Oh, hello piccolo. Are you alright?”

“I was actually going to ask you that,” the baby boo said, “I know you find our master really scary.”

Luigi’s face fell a little, “He doesn’t really like me that much.”

“Then why does he want to marry you?” the little boo asked, “My mama always said that you should marry for love.”

“And your mama is absolutely right,” Luigi tapped the boo on the nose – or where its nose should be – “But King Boo is doing this for the wrong reasons, that’s why I’m so sad.”

“I’m sorry,” the baby boo nuzzled itself into Luigi’s neck, with Luigi nuzzling right back.

“It’s not your fault bambino,” Luigi patted its head, “Sometimes there are those who do these types of things and we often don’t know why they do it.”

“I hope that you’ll get to marry someone you love soon,” said the little baby boo, “I don’t know if this will make you happy, but you look really pretty!”

Luigi chuckled and nuzzled the boo again, “Thank you, that does make me feel a bit happy.”

The sound of trumpets made him gasp; the wedding was starting.

“I have to go,” the baby boo whimpered, “I don’t want to get in trouble, be careful Mister Luigi!”

The boo disappeared as the doors opened. Luigi gulped as he forced himself to walk down the aisle. The guests consisted of other ghosts and boos, looking extremely guilty about the whole ordeal. At the end of the aisle was King Boo, smugly straightening a bowtie. Luigi dreaded for what would happen once he made it to the end, pleading internally for something – anything – to put an end to this.

He made it to the end of the aisle, King Boo grinning as a ghost officiant began his speech. “We are gathered here to celebrate the union between our King and the green half of the Mushroom Kingdom Heroes,” the ghost began to shake under the fearful stare King Boo was giving him, “Though this couple seems unlikely, it is this ceremony that shows-”

“-Yada, yada, yada!” King Boo interrupted, looking irritated already, “Just skip to the ‘I do’s’ would ya!”

“Um, yes, of course your majesty,” the ghost stammered, “Do you King Boo accept Luigi’s hand in marriage.”

King Boo cackled, “I do,”

“And do you Luigi accept our King as your husband,” the ghost turned to the human.

Luigi trembled, desperately wanting to say no. But he was at the mercy of the king, if he was to say no who knows what would happen? The last thing he wanted was for anyone to get hurt because of him. Someone, please, get me out of here! Help me, please!

Crash!

The windows shattered, glass falling everywhere, Luigi lifted to arms to shield himself but when he lowered them, Bowser was stood in front of him with a poltergust in hand. “Bowser!” he all but cried tears of happiness seeing the love of his life.

“Luigi!” yelled back with the same amount of joy.

The human was about to run to the koopa when he was grabbed by King Boo and the two of them were ascended to the ceiling. “Sorry old friend!” King Boo sneered, “But your little human belongs to me now!”

“Um, actually sire,” the ghost officiant spoke up, cowering when King Boo glared down at him, “The human didn’t repeat his vows, therefore you too aren’t married yet.”

“WHAT?!” King Boo screeched, turning back to Bowser, “It doesn’t matter, whether he likes it or not, Luigi will be my subject.” He turned to the rest of the ghosts and boos “What are you waiting for?! GET HIM!”

Within seconds, every single boo and ghost went to attack Bowser straight away. The koopa was prepared however, taking out the poltergust and aiming it at each one that came his way. When one boo or ghost was being sucked up, Bowser would slam them to the ground, dodge aa hit from another attacker, slam the half sucked-up ghost to the attacker, and repeat again each time after a ghost or boo was stored away into the poltergust.

“That’s it Bowser!” Luigi cheered, earning a proud and flustered grin from the koopa, “That’s my fiancé!”

“Would you shut up!” King Boo screeched into his ear, “Hurry up and say I do before I make you regret it!”

“Never in a million years,” Luigi retorted, feeling a bit bolder, “I have faith that Bowser is going to defeat you, if you’re going to pretend to be like my fiancé, you have to accept that you’re going to lose like he did.”

“I heard that!” Bowser yelled.

“PRETEND?!” King Boo screamed, “I AM TWICE THE KING THAN BOWSER WILL EVER BE! HERE, IF YOU DON’T BELIEVE ME, I’LL SHOW YA! SQUISH HIM FLAT YOU FOOLS!”

The ghosts and boos paled at that order, they only wanted to distract Bowser, even if it wasn’t working. But deep down, they were secretly hoping that the koopa would be able to stop them so they wouldn’t need to deal with King Boo’s cruelty anymore. But an order was an order and there was no other back up plan. One by one, each boo and ghost piled on top of the koopa king, for what they lacked in size, the poltergeists made up in numbers. Soon, Bowser was stuck to the ground, trying desperately to keep a grip on the poltergust, but it slipped from his grasp.

“No!” Luigi tried to scramble out of King Boo’s hold, but it was too tight.

The king laughed maniacally, “Here’s the deal wimp, you other complete your vows, or I end your precious koopa right here right now. The choice is yours.”

Luigi bit his lip, glancing at the winded koopa on the ground, he didn’t want to make this worse than it already was. But just as he was about to agree, a faint chuckling rose from below the boo and human.

“Wow!” Bowser laughed, to the confusion of King Boo and his subjects, “How is your ego worse than mine old pal?”

“Excuse me,” King Boo growled, “You’re nothing but a pathetic waste on my castle floors, I have your little Luigi at my beck and call, yet you still believe that you can win this?!”

“I do, actually,” Bowser smirked, “I just have to wait in three…two…one.”

The roof crumbled, long ropes falling from the empty hole above as the toad and koopa armies swung down, poltergusts in tow. Within seconds, they were sucking up the boos and ghosts off Bowser, with the koopa lifting himself to his feet, rolling his shoulders back and picked his poltergust up from the ground. The princesses, Mario, E. Gadd and Kamek made their way down as well, with Mario and E. Gadd being the only ones with Poltergusts. Kamek and Rosalina had their wands while Daisy wielded a sword and Peach an axe.

Many more boos and ghosts flooded the ballroom, but by the looks on their faces, they were no match for Bowser’s friends and armies.

“COME AT ME YOU OVERGROWN MARSHMALLOWS!” Daisy shrieked at the incoming poltergeists.

“I’d advise surrendering,” Rosalina murmured, “My patience grows thin when my friends are endangered. Either that or you face my darling Daisy, trust me, you’d rather surrender now.”

“You ruin my son’s wedding and kidnapped my future son-in-law,” Kamek grumbled, “I plan to make your consequences extremely severe.”

“King Boo!” E. Gadd screamed, “Your lucky that if it wasn’t for Luigi, I’d burn your portraits by now, research be damned!”

“Luigi is one of my best friends,” Peach spoke calmly, though her eyes darkened, “I don’t take it well when people hurt my friends.”

“You shouldn’t have taken my brother!” Mario shouted, “One thing I always make sure is if anyone messes with Luigi, they regret it deeply!”

“Luigi is the love of my life,” smoke escaped from Bowser’s nostrils, the threat of what was to come being extremely clear, “You hurt him one too many times, and now, I’m going to take great pride with finding out just how to make you suffer for it.”

Luigi felt King Boo tremble, there was no denying how obvious it was, despite the stoic look he tried to maintain. “I-I…JUST SAY ‘I DO’ ALREADY YOU LITTLE!!!---” King Boo didn’t manage to finish his sentence when fire escaped from Bowser’s mouth, making the king drop Luigi.

Luigi screamed, afraid that he was going to meet the hard marble of the ground when he felt himself plopped into something warm and scaly. Taking in his surroundings, he noticed that the hand he was in had bright yellow scaled. Looking up, he met his fiancé’s beautiful red eyes and a tearful smile pulled at his lips, “Bowser, you came for me!”

He lunged himself at the koopa, gripping him tight in a hug. The koopa chuckled as he gripped Luigi back, “I wasn’t gonna let some dumb boo ruin our wedding. Besides, I promised to protect you, that means rescuing you from impromptu kidnappings.” Luigi pulled back, gentling cradling the koopa’s face in his hands before bringing him into a kiss. Bowser returned the kiss with the same amount of softness, before gently pulling back and resting his forehead against Luigi’s. It was then when his eyes trailed over Luigi’s form and noticed the new gown he was in. He blushed at the amount of exposed skin from Luigi’s tight-clad legs.

Once Luigi noticed the koopa’s gaze on him, he buried his face into his hands, squealing, “Oh god, I just realised I had this on! This is so embarrassing!”

“Well I’ll give King Boo this,” Bowser smirked, “He has a good taste in fashion. Though, I think its mostly you, you’re able to pull off everything.”

“Stop,” Luigi’s face was as red as his brother’s overalls, though he secretly loved the complement, “I genuinely don’t know how to feel about this dress, its really not my usual style.”

Bowser took pity on his fiancé’s flustered state, so he tore off a piece of a black curtain and wrapped it around the human. He pressed a kiss to the human’s forehead, “Better?”

“Much,” Luigi rested his head against the koopa’s muzzle “Thank you.”

“NO, NO!” the screams of King Boo tore the happy couple away from their tender moment as they turned to see the poltergeist being sucked into Mario’s poltergust, the rest of the ghosts and boos seemed to have been sucked up as well while the two were being reunited, “THIS ISN’T FAIR, I’M SUPPOSED TO WIN!”

Daisy whacked the flat edge of her sword against the boo’s head, assisting with Mario’s poltergust sucking up the King. “NO!” was the last word King Boo spoke before he too disappeared into the poltergust.

“And that is what happens what you mess with my brother,” Mario scowled. It quickly faded the moment he saw his brother, “Lu, are you okay?! This fantasma che mangia merda didn’t hurt you, did he?”

“No Mario, I’m okay!” Luigi sniffed at the sight of seeing his brother, the red plumber jumping into the koopa’s hand to give his brother a hug, “I’m okay Mario, you don’t need to worry.”

“Good, otherwise I’m getting Daisy to whack him with her sword again,” Mario muffled his words into Luigi’s shoulder, still squeezing him tight.

“I’m up for it!” Daisy put her thumbs up.

“Ah, ah, darling,” Rosalina hooked her thumb under Daisy’s chin, “Behave yourself.”

“Eh-uh-um…Rosa you can’t just pull that on me!” Daisy spluttered, blushing madly.

Luigi giggled, leaning into Bowser’s and Mario hold.

“We’re so glad you’re safe Luigi,” said Peach as she walked up to them, “We’ll make sure that this remains as a one-time thing.”

“After seeing how King Boo reacted to all of you bursting in like that, I’ll have to agree,” Luigi nodded.

“Its good to see you again son,” E. Gadd spoke up, Kamek by his side as the koopa agreed with every word the old man said, “I apologise for not making it to the wedding, as you can tell I was quite…preoccupied.”

“There’s no need to apologise doctor,” Luigi smiled, “I have a feeling we’ll need to push the wedding date back a little bit to clean up the mess King Boo left behind.”

“Well with a little help with my magic, the process should be a bit quicker,” said Kamek, “And I’ll finally have a proper chance to deal with King Boo and his subjects.”

However, at Kamek’s words, Luigi’s eyes flittered over to the full poltergusts in the corner, his smile drooped. Bowser took notice of the human’s change of demeanour immediately, “What’s wrong, love?”

“Its just…” Luigi sighed, turning to Bowser. Mario jumped down to give his brother more room, “I can’t help but feel sorry for the boos and ghosts under King Boo’s rule.”

“What?!” Daisy cried, “Those guys literally helped King Boo kidnap you?! You seriously feel sorry for them?!”

“Its not their fault!” Luigi retorted, “King Boo was forcing them to do that stuff, after all these years with dealing with him I get it. I don’t wait to punish them just because their boss scared them into doing something they didn’t want to do. I’m not saying they shouldn’t face consequences, but I want to give them the benefit of the doubt.” He placed his hand on Bowser’s cheek, “Just like someone else I know.”

Bowser leaned into the human’s touch, “You never cease to amaze me greenie.”

“Kamek,” Luigi turned to the magikoopa, “If you don’t mind, I would like to release these boos and ghosts to make them part of our kingdom, as long as they want to.”

“It would be my pleasure,” Kamek bowed before moving to the poltergusts,” With your permission E. Gadd, I’m going to remove King Boo’s old subjects out off these poltergusts and keep a hold of them, sans the king of course.”

“By all means go ahead,” E. Gadd stepped to the side as Kamek waved his wand, summoning the boos and ghost out of the poltergusts, yet making sure he used his magic to keep them from trying anything.

The poltergeists gazed around the room, confused until their eyes landed on Luigi. The human’s heart twisted when he saw the petrified looks on their faces, “There’s no need to worry, I’m not going to do anything. On behalf of myself and King Bowser, we would like to formally invite you all not only to be guests at our wedding, but to be citizens of our Kingdom as well.”

Each poltergeists’ eyes widened, each of them turning to face another ghost with surprise at the sudden news. “Although we aren’t letting you off the hook just yet,” Bowser spoke up, “We don’t want you to be in fear of King Boo anymore. In our kingdom, you will be safe and treated with the same respect as my own subjects.”

“Only if you wish of course,” Luigi reassured them, but the face splitting excited smiles each of the ghosts and boos had at the news they would finally be free of King Boo informed him what their answer would be. He nodded to Kamek to let them go, the poltergeists swirling and soaring through the air with joy, the baby boo from before rushing over to Luigi to nuzzle him again, with the human cuddling him fondly.

Bowser’s smile widened even more, holding his fiancé closer, wondering how he got so lucky. “Shall we head back home, dearest?”

“I would love that Mio Caro,” Luigi settled into the koopa’s arms, letting his eyes resting as he continued to cuddle the little boo.

Soon all the toads, koopa’s, boos and ghosts had filed up behind the rulers of their kingdoms as they headed back home.

A Few Weeks Later

“Do you Bowser, take Luigi’s hand in marriage as your lawfully wedded husband, to love him unconditionally until the end of time?”

“I do.”

“And do you Luigi, take Bowser’s hand in marriage as your lawfully wedded husband, to love him no matter what comes your way until you reunite in the cosmos?”

“I do.”

“By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you…married!” Kamek cheered.

The moment Bowser and Luigi’s lips met; the crowd rejoiced. The koopa, boos and toads were all hugging sobbing at the happy couple, Luigi’s family cried for their youngest son as they wished him and Bowser nothing but the best, Junior and Polterpup jumped up and down with joy at the sight of his dads finally being together, E. Gadd was sniffling into Kamek’s robe with the magikoopa complaining how dirty the doctor was getting it, Daisy and Rosalina smiled fondly at the happy couple as each princess planned on how they would propose to each other next, Mario and Peach had their arms around each other as they hoped that one day they would have a wedding just as magical as this. As for Bowser and Luigi, nothing else mattered in this moment apart from each other and how amazing the rest of their lives would be as long as the other was in it.

Luigi lifted his piranha plant bouquet into the air, letting the crowd get ready to catch it. He flung it up and let it go, letting it fly through the air until it landed in Daisy’s arms. She and Rosalina shared a look, the two of them blushing before the blonde smiled and brought the brunette into a soft kiss, the shorter of the two sighing happily against her girlfriend’s lips.

Bowser lifted Luigi into his arms, supporting his waist and legs – along with the poofy skirts of his original white dress – with Junior jumping onto Luigi as the human cuddled his son tight and Polterpup draping himself across Bowser’s shoulder while the koopa patted the pooch’s head.

Everything was perfect, there were no messed up plans, no interruptions and definitely no King Boo. While his old subjects did have a lot to make up for after what they did to Luigi, they were welcomed into the koopa kingdom with open arms. King Boo, however, was sealed tight into a portrait and locked up in a safe where he could never touch Luigi again.

His ocean blue eyes met Bowser’s fiery red once again, though neither of them said a word, they knew exactly what the other was silently asked for. They would have to go in for photos and the after party soon, but Luigi wanted to relish this moment as much as he could.

So before anything and everything else, the couple’s lips pressed into one more gentle kiss. And finally, all was right.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this little birthday gift. Have a great rest of your day xx.

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