#metablade's fics

[cyberhopper]

Dying Stars

Characters: Mario, Peach Genre/themes: Hurt/comfort, mild angst, mild fluff, pre-relationship Also posted on AO3

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It was minutes – no, seconds – after Peach’s Castle had been returned to its rightful place, a dazed Bowser had been escorted away by the guards, and they had finally been given a moment’s peace amid the chaos, that Mario’s knees gave way and hit the tiled floor of the castle foyer with enough force to bruise.

It was not her own nagging exhaustion that prompted Peach’s knees to drop her down beside him.

Her heart had yet to settle back into a normal pace, and she was still reeling with the afterimages of watching the universe die around her, her ears still hearing the squeals of a thousand innocent star children throwing themselves into the heart of a black hole. The Lumas’ sacrifice would never be forgotten. They had acted with unimaginable bravery – but did it really count as a sacrifice when they had no choice? If they hadn’t acted, then there probably wouldn’t even be a cosmos for them to live in now.

She had a feeling that despite her bone-aching weariness, it would be another few days before she could rest easy. Those screams weren’t going to leave her head anytime soon, and nor was the existential dread of knowing that they’d come within inches of losing literally everything.

She desperately needed something to focus on other than her own whirlwind emotions, but she would have dropped to her knees beside Mario even if that wasn’t the case. He had been through hell, travelling to more planets and galaxies than either of them had known existed just to save her.And at the very end, he’d been forced to watch, finally helpless, while the black hole greedily sucked up the crumbling matter of space. Peach had caught a glimpse of his face in those terrifying moments, and had seen utter horror reflected there, followed by weary resignation, then rebellion.

It had been hard to focus on anything at the time, but now – sifting through the memories – she vaguely remembered him pulling her into his arms, as if he could protect her from the supernova with his strength alone.

Everything; he did everything he could for her. Even when it meant nothing. Even when he knew they were both doomed.

The faint memory of his embrace was coloured with a trickle of regret, because he had never held her like that before – it was normally Peach who initiated hugs and they were never quite that snug – and she hadn’t even been in a state of mind to fully appreciate it.

She could remember how it felt, though, her body clinging to the sensations even if her mind forgot. Mario was always strangely warm, as though a fire burned inside him stronger than anything that could be conjured from Bowser’s jaws. But on this occasion, she had literally felt heat radiating from beneath his overalls. Seeping into her bones.

He hadn’t been capable of feeling embarrassed at the time, so it definitely hadn’t been a flush she’d felt. It was more like the fire inside him had risen up to keep her safe. A rightful fury directed at Bowser, the black hole, the shattered universe, everything that was trying to pull them apart in that moment. A last-ditch effort to save her from the inevitable.

At least, that’s how Peach liked to think of it. Maybe she was letting her overactive imagination get the better of her. Maybe he had wrapped his arms around her out of pure reflex, or in an attempt to anchor himself. Maybe the heat coming from him had been caused by fear or stress or even fever. Maybe that’s all there was to it.

She suspected, however, that a few people might think otherwise. Toadsworth had listened to her lovesick ramblings about the man on at least five occasions, and he’d always been of the opinion that her… pining wasn’t unrequited.

Peach had not liked his use of the word “pining” at the time, but in the days following their conversation, she had been forced to acknowledge that it was an apt description.

She wasn’t quite ready to confront these feelings head-on. It would take more courage than she currently possessed. But then again, Mario had just journeyed across the universe to save her, so maybe he deserved her best efforts.

Another day. Not now, when they were both worn and mentally bruised beyond belief.

Her knees were already beginning to feel the impact with the hard floor when she wrapped her arms around the hunched, slightly trembling man, hoping that her body provided him with at least some of the protective warmth he had given her earlier. His initial reaction to the hug was a slight flinch, causing her to jolt and draw back instinctively, thinking that he felt too vulnerable to be touched right now, but it was with an expression of desperation that he pulled her back, too hurt to be embarrassed.

Peach was easily tall enough to rest her chin on top of his head, and she hoped that he wouldn’t mind when she did exactly that. Her hands stroked up and down his back, passing over rips in the fabric and a rough, dry patch of something that she worried might be dried blood. If she found out he was actually injured, she would immediately drag him to the medical bay. She cautiously quested her fingers over that spot, pressing down gently, wincing in anticipation, but Mario didn’t show any signs of pain.

Deciding that asking him about the bloodstain could wait a little longer, she relaxed into the hug and continued to rub his back.

The faint trembling that had shaken his form when they started was now gradually lessening. Before, she had felt him holding himself up. The silly man hadn’t wanted to make her take his weight, despite being on the verge of collapse. Now, though – either because he was finally relaxing or because he simply couldn’t stay upright any longer – he began to sink into her arms.

Peach had never really considered her own strength. Those who complimented her strength were invariably referring to the emotional kind, praising her devotion to the kingdom, her kindness and her love for helping others. Rarely did anyone mention her physical prowess, and although she exercised through sports and walking, she didn’t think of herself as being strong.

Mario was surprisingly heavy for someone of his size. Dense, like a boulder. But she didn’t feel encumbered, even when he gave up fighting and slumped tiredly against her. Smiling a little, she lifted one hand and removed the scratched, dirty, slightly singed cap from his head. Keeping it in her grasp, she gently nuzzled his soft brown hair, kept in fairly good condition thanks to his cap.

She wondered if he was beginning to fall asleep. She wouldn’t mind one bit, although she had no delusions about picking him up bridal style and carrying him away. Most likely, she would either have to call for help or remain kneeling on the hard, cold floor with him until she found the heart to wake him up.

Face against her shoulder, he mumbled something low and tired.

“Hmm?” She pressed a kiss to his hair. “What is it?”

“...Grazie…” he said.

“Oh.” She smiled; she wasn’t fluent in his native language but had heard enough to recognise that word. “Mario, you don’t have to thank me. You’ve been through so much. In fact… I’d like for you to stay here in the castle tonight.”

“Oh, I couldn’t…”

“I want you to. We have plenty of guest bedrooms and the Toads will bring you any food you’d like. I want to make sure that you’re OK before you go anywhere.”

He responded with something too muffled to be heard as anything other than a hum. She didn’t know what he’d said, but decided against asking him to repeat it. He was so tired. Come to think of it, so was she.

“And, Mario,” she said to him, “I want you to come to me if you need help, or… if you need to talk, OK? We’ve just seen something absolutely unbelievable. Something completely terrifying, and… I think it’s going to take us both a while to get over it.”

She knew he wasn’t capable of absorbing most of her speech right now, and she would no doubt have to repeat all of this another time, but she just wanted to speak. Every time she permitted a lull in the conversation, her ears filled with the Lumas’ cries and the roaring of the black hole.

“I…” Mario had to draw a deep breath before he could continue. “I would like to sleep… for a while. If that is OK.”

“Of course it is. Come on, let me help you to the guest room. I’m sure that we have some pyjamas you can wear.”

He looked down at his damaged clothes in a vague sort of way.

With her help, he managed to drag himself to his feet and walk to the guest room. A large four-poster bed with freshly washed sheets awaited him. She sat him on the edge and tried to keep him awake while she searched the closet and nightstand for the spare pyjamas, but by the time she found them, he had already passed out fully dressed on top of the blankets.

Even in sleep, he didn’t look entirely relaxed. His face twitched with the echoes of dreams, and his singed, torn overalls stood out like a sore thumb.

But she decided against waking him up. The most important thing, right now, was for him to get some rest. Everything else that she wanted to shower him with – food, a bath, clean clothes, (praise, affection) – could wait until later.

However, she did allow herself a few moments to watch him fondly before she left the room. Once he was no longer in sight, the weight of the last few hours came crashing down so hard that it took all of her willpower not to sit down with her back against the door and sleep. Harnessing the last of her strength, she kept walking until she reached her own bedroom. Trusting the Toads not to disturb her unless necessary, she took a leaf out of Mario’s book and collapsed on her four-poster without changing.

She and Mario had almost watched the universe die today. If not for the Lumas, they wouldn’t even exist right now. It’s really quite hard to wrap your head around that sort of thing.

That being said… they did exist. They had survived, and so had their world. She was doubly appreciative of everything now… especially Mario.

He needed care, and she needed something to care for. He might not think he deserved special treatment or that Peach should be giving it to him personally, but she was resolute. He had done so much to save her. The least she could do in return for his bravery was ease his weariness and pain.

Thinking about looking after him brought a little smile to her face, and she finally allowed herself to sink into a slumber that, all things considered, turned out to be surprisingly restful.

[peaches2217]

Aquamarine

AO3 link!

~~

Aquamarine, from the Latin and later Italian word for seawater, is also considered to be the "stone of courage and preparedness" and is believed to help maintain balance and order. Aquamarine is often used as a "good luck" stone, thought to bring feelings of peace, love, joy, and happiness.

~~~

"Everything will be alright."

Mario’s head snapped up. Surely he’d misheard her.

But Peach, meeting his gaze evenly, repeated herself: “Everything is going to be alright, Mario. This will pass, however painfully, and then we can rest, rebuild, and return to life as we know it. I have faith in that.”

Mario knew better. An all-out war raged around them, and they were both being pulled into the fray, in opposite directions. People were dying. They very well could die too. He knew she was scared. And he was almost certain that she knew he was scared, too. How could she say something so… so foolish, so false, now, of all times? It wasn’t like her.

Yet the resolve in her voice was unwavering, and determination burned red-hot in her eyes, and as quickly as he’d been confused, he understood. Acknowledging what might happen — what was probably going to happen, if either was permitting full honesty within themselves — was counterproductive. They could agonize over their circumstances, over the many outcomes, over the plenitude of things they wished they’d said and done if only they had known there might not be another opportunity. But where would that lead them? 

Falling into despair would only guarantee their demise. Hope would give them a chance. No matter how miniscule that chance or how false that hope, they had to take what they could get. She understood that, and now she was inviting Mario to join her in reclaiming what might be their last prospect of victory, or at least survival.

How often he wished he could be as strong as her.

But before he could accept that invitation and return her assurances, something in Peach’s expression flickered… and it was gone just as quickly, squashed down and set alight with an internal force that only a goddess could possibly possess. Her fingers fumbled with the brooch on her chest for a few seconds before she freed it from her dress and pressed it into Mario’s hand.

“This jewel has been in my family for at least a hundred and fifty years,” she said, guiding his right hand with her left so that the brooch sat exposed in his open palm. “My mother had entire outfits designed around it; it’s my sole reminder of her. So it is, without a doubt, my most valuable possession.” 

Mario regarded it as well as he could in the dull light. He recalled seeing it on past queens in the old paintings lining the castle’s entrance hallway, but it certainly didn’t show its age. The aquamarine gem matched her eyes in color and almost matched them in intensity, exploding into fragments of light whenever the sun caught it just so. He’d always thought it suited her.

Carefully, she folded his fingers over the brooch, resting her small hands gently over his. “I absolutely can’t lose it,” she added, quietly. “No matter what.”

He heard the intent all too clearly. He was being trusted to guard her most prized accessory. Therefore, he had an obligation to return to her.

I can't lose you, she said in all but words.

“I… I’ll keep it safe,” he promised, and the few seconds he pulled away from her to pocket the valuable were torturous. Taking her hands in his made everything feel right again, gave him the boldness he needed to match her resolve. “And once this is all over, I’ll give it right back. I’ll even have it polished so it looks good as new! You have my word, Princess.”

The cacophony outside grew louder. They were running out of time.

“Good. I’ll make all sorts of pastries as thanks,” Peach said, and her smile looked truly heartening for the first time since all of this nonsense began. “We’ll stuff ourselves on tiny cakes and endless tea and coffee and talk all day and all night. Or at least until Toadsworth comes to complain about having a visitor over so late and shoos you off.”

Mario couldn’t help but laugh. She was right; Toadsworth became more strict past ten or so at night, flustering himself over the princess’ wellbeing because a proper princess simply must remain well-rested, Your Highness! Maybe they could pull the “We just survived a catastrophic war” card, or at least get Toadette to cover for them so they could sneak out after hours (which would hardly be the first time).

Those thoughts slowed to a halt as Peach joined in, giggling quietly. The sound echoed off the barren walls hiding them away, delicate and pure; she blushed a sweet shade of pink, and her whole face glowed so achingly softly. It was as beautiful as it was haunting.

She truly believed what they were saying. And for a moment, Mario had believed it too.

I can’t lose you.

“Run,” Peach finally urged, a beacon of stability in the madness encroaching upon them. “Run, and hurry back to me. There’s still so many things I want to tell you, Mario, so don’t keep me waiting too long, alright?”

Mario’s breath caught in his throat.

I can’t lose you.

A rush of impulse surged through his blood, and he didn’t have the strength to fight it off.

“Ti amo,” he whispered, pulling himself into their conjoined hands. “Ti amo tantissimo, Principessa.” He bowed his head over her knuckles and screwed his eyes shut, trying and failing to control the trembling that overtook him — he wanted so desperately to remove their gloves, feel the imperfections of her skin against his, or kiss the silk separating them, kiss her, tighten his grip and run with her until all of the mayhem was far behind them or they were cut down where they stood. He didn’t care, so long as he didn’t have to leave her side.

“Mario…”

He stiffened.

“...What does that mean?”

For a fleeting moment, there was no war. Looking up didn’t reveal any fearsome resolve or half-suppressed fear or dread within her eyes. All he could see was affection, tinged dark with sadness.

This wasn’t the end. It couldn’t be. He would ensure that or die trying.

“It means…” Squeezing her hands one final time, he forced himself to smile. “...I will see you soon.”

He let go before he could register how painful it was, and he turned and ran, until a dozen doors and countless layers of stone separated him from her, until he stepped into the fray and acrid smoke filled his lungs.

Pausing in the final doorway, he snaked his hand into his right pocket, his fingers caressing the aquamarine brooch tucked safely within.

Images of tiny cakes and golden hair and clear afternoons full of laughter and sunlight flickered through his mind. He let them pass, he took a breath, and then he charged ahead.

[supersherman44]

If any of y’all are looking for a good (and adorably fluffy) fic for these two sweethearts, look no further! https://archiveofourown.org/works/44369227

ofc, all credit goes to MetaBlade, thanks for your work!❤️

[cyberhopper]

Wet Floor Sign

Characters: Luigi, Daisy Genres/themes: Minor injuries, early friendship Also posted on AO3

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From the moment they first met, right in the middle of the Spring Tennis Tourney at Peach’s Castle, Luigi had known that Daisy wasn’t someone who often listened to reason. Her thoughts were like a wild river twisting and turning through an unexplored forest, every new idea like a splash of water hitting whatever unsuspecting person happened to be closest. As for the woman herself, he wasn’t sure whether “tornado” or “fireball” described her better.

Daisy was someone who did whatever she liked, and Stars forbid anyone try to stop her. Of course, this led her into trouble more often than not. Nothing serious ever came from her shenanigans - until one day, Luigi saw her slip and hurt herself because she chose to dash through a bathroom in wilful ignorance of the very noticeable wet floor sign.

She went over backwards and smacked her head on the cool tiles, and Luigi, who had been behind her at the time (it was a unisex bathroom, alright, he wasn’t a creep), only had time to suck in one sharp breath before panic set in.

He’d always hated having to be responsible in scary situations, preferring to let someone more suitable - like his brother or Princess Peach - take charge. His tendency to flail and flounder aside, he hated the idea of something going wrong because of his decisions. But when it came to Daisy, he wasn’t sure if he could consider her the responsible one between them.

And there hadn’t been anyone else in the room at the time.

He waited all of five seconds, desperately hoping that someone would materialise out of nowhere and take charge, before his instincts began to push him forwards. Daisy might have a head injury; she wasn’t moving; she could be unconscious; if he didn’t act now she might--

His knees hit the floor and his hand carefully slipped beneath her head, both to cushion it and to check for open wounds. Auburn hair, damp with sweat, caressed his fingers. He found himself idly wishing that he wasn’t wearing gloves.

Her eyes fluttered open, but didn’t seem entirely focused. They aimlessly wandered the ceiling for a moment before forcing themselves to settle on Luigi’s face with what looked like obvious difficulty.

“Woah, woah, woah, don’t move,” he said - not because she’d tried to but because he knew the idea would enter her mind soon enough.

“Weegee?” He was relieved to hear her voice sounding normal - if a little dazed - but more relieved to hear the familiar nickname falling from her lips. She recognised him. Good sign.

“Don’t move,” he repeated. “You just, ah, fell and hit your head. I need to call for the medics.”

Her head rolled in a feeble imitation of a nod, pushing against his hand. He wondered if she was in pain. “Yeah, OK. I’ll just... stay here, I guess...”

Despite not wanting to leave her, Luigi propelled his wobbly legs into action, got outside, and managed to wave down a group of Toad medics within five minutes. He dithered in the doorway like a spare part while they clustered around Daisy and piled her with questions (“Do you know what day it is?”, “Do you remember what happened?”); to his relief, she was able to answer all of them with only a moment’s hesitation. The Toads put her on a stretcher and took her to the hospital anyway, despite her insistence that she was fine.

“Head injuries should be taken seriously, Miss!” one young Toad squawked. “You might have... internal bleeding!!”

The next day, Luigi was sitting at the edge of one of the tennis courts, watching the sky fill with clouds and wondering if today’s matches would even be able to go ahead, when he saw a familiar yellow and orange shape approaching out of the corner of his eye.

“Weeegeeee!”

Compared to the last time he’d heard that word, it was spoken in a tone of utter confidence. He instinctively got to his feet (was it rude to stay sitting while a princess addressed you?) and was promptly pulled into a hug vigorous enough to be considered a form of attack.

“Uh, hi, Daisy...” he said meekly. It came out muffled because his mouth was being pressed against her upper chest. He tried very, very hard not to think about this.

She pulled back far enough to look into his eyes, but her hands remained firm upon his shoulders. He had never seen her grin so widely, and that was saying a lot.

“Thanks!”

“...What for?”

“For helping me out, obviously! I remember everything that happened. I slipped and fell in the bathroom, and you were the only one there, and you got the medics for me!”

“Oh. Well... you’re welcome, but you don’t need to thank me. Any decent person would have done it.”

“Yeah, but not everyone is decent,” she said, nodding wisely. “So thank you for being a decent person, Luigi.”

And that was pretty much where the conversation ended, because right at that moment, people started showing up for the tennis matches. For the rest of the day, Luigi’s interactions with Daisy consisted mostly of her hitting balls at him as hard as humanly possible while he flinched and let them fly by unchallenged. His doubles partner, Birdo, gave him a lot of peeved looks that day. But Luigi didn’t even care, because he had Daisy’s praise playing on repeat in his brain.

They had never exactly been friends before, but after that incident, Daisy never let him believe they were anything else.

[cyberhopper]

Least Scary Thing in the World

Characters: Luigi, Daisy Genres/themes: Vampire AU, hurt/comfort, friendship, identity reveal Also posted on AO3

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“I-I’m different.” The words were spoken in a voice more tremor than tenor, and he wrapped his arms around his middle for comfort, both encased in the sleeves of his fleece jacket.

Daisy just smiled, the expression both patient and teasing as she leaned dangerously over the edge of the cliff. Below them lay an expanse of dark ocean that seemed to go on forever. Weren’t there islands out there; other countries? Luigi knew they weren’t alone in the world, but when the sea looked as empty as a black hole, it was hard to imagine life beyond the Mushroom Kingdom.

“Well, yeah,” said Daisy, with barely held back laughter. “Everyone knows you’re different, Weegee. You’re about as weird as they come.” She punctuated the end of the statement with a playful jab at his ribs. How strange, that such a sharp nudge could soften her words.

“No, you don’t get it.”

“Maybe you should do a better job of explaining, then.”

He heaved a deep, quiet sigh. The wind picked up just for a moment, ruffling the wave of auburn behind Daisy’s head. His own hair remained tucked in place by his trusty cap.

When he looked at her properly, he could see the glitter of starlight reflected in the pearly sapphires of her eyes. She was made of gemstones and fire, and nothing could compare.

He hunched his shoulders and hurriedly turned away, practically folding in on himself. He had been admiring her a lot lately, most often without conscious thought, but every now and again he’d allow his gaze to drift over her form with the full intention of appreciating her.

She was beautiful, not just visually but as a person. She was so strong, so confident... a born leader and a true friend with just a hint of a rebellious streak. She was everything the meek, humble Luigi was not. He wanted her and wanted to be her.

But even if he hadn’t been shackled by crippling social anxiety and an embarrassing tendency to panic, there was another reason why he wouldn’t dare ask her out, or even try to push their friendship closer. There was only one person who knew Luigi’s secret, and that person was the brother who’d been with him through everything. Mario had always warned him not to tell anyone else, terrified by the idea of some narrow-minded individual wanting to hurt an innocent man out of fear.

For years, Luigi had been completely happy to follow Mario’s order. He had no desire to be hurt or labelled a monster - especially over something that had been so unfairly forced upon him. He’d gotten used to his situation, but had never gotten comfortable with the idea of it being common knowledge.

So what had changed? Why was he suddenly standing on a barren clifftop, staring at the crashing black sea while he seriously considered spilling his deepest secret to the woman beside him?

It made no sense. He couldn’t justify it no matter how hard he tried. His only justification was one that Mario would never accept.

He trusted Daisy. In the two years they had known each other - their relationship slowly shifting from wary acquaintances to genuine friends - she had never shown herself to be anything other than perfectly open. Yes, her honesty led to a lot of blunt remarks and occasional rudeness, but she didn’t mean any harm. She was simply built to speak her mind without fear - a skill Luigi often envied.

He was doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out why Daisy’s blunt honesty made her a worthy candidate to learn his secret. But when it came down to it, Luigi was just tired of hiding. He loved Mario, but he longed for someone other than his (slightly overprotective) brother to confide in. Just imagining Daisy’s reaction was both thrilling and terrifying. And because she was so open, he knew she wasn’t faking her affection for him. She didn’t pity him; she actually liked spending time with him.

Not to mention her fearlessness. She’d jump a mile if someone sneaked up on her but was never bothered by “regular” scary things, like ghosts and darkness. Last year, Luigi had accompanied her to the funfair and they had walked through a haunted house attraction that used real Boos and other ghosts to scare the guests. Luigi had been a nervous wreck by the end, and Daisy had been laughing.

It stood to reason that if she wasn’t fazed by any of those things, she probably wouldn’t react negatively to his secret.

But by the Stars, it was hard to even consider telling anyone after all this time.

“It’s going to sound really weird...” he began.

“C’mon, Luigi, I won’t judge you,” she said teasingly. “Well, maybe I will... but I won’t make fun of you!”

“I’m pretty sure those mean the same thing...”

“Luigi, if you try to reverse out of this conversation, I’m going to dump you in the sea. Come on, tell me!” She was giving him her full attention. If he skirted around the topic much longer, she was going to lose interest and turn away. If he was ever going to say it, he needed to say it now.

A beat of silence–

“I’m a vampire.”

He deliberately turned his head away and focused his gaze on the crests of the waves. As soon as the words left his mouth, he was beset by a sudden, overpowering conviction that he had made the wrong choice. Fear clenched his chest and made his stomach churn. Any minute now, he was going to hear her backing away in fright as the horrible reality of his words sunk in, and everything between them would be ruined forever–

“You’re a vampire.”

Daisy’s voice was almost entirely flat save for an edge of disbelief.

“...Yes?” Luigi managed. It came out as a squeak.

“Are you - look. If this is a prank, then well done, you genuinely caught me off-guard. But if it’s not a joke, can you please say so now?”

He realised that an opportunity to backpedal was being presented to him. He could let out a weak laugh and tell her that yes, it was all a lame joke.

But no, that wasn’t right. He couldn’t lie to her like that. Even if this conversation ended horribly, he knew he needed to commit.

“I-it’s true. About three years ago - before we met - Mario and I were exploring an old castle in the woods. We thought we’d just find... the usual. You know, Boos. But instead we found... a strange man, who attacked us. I don’t remember anything that happened after that. I woke up hours later, to find that Mario had saved us both and carried me to safety, but... th-the vampire... managed to bite me before he could.”

He could see, out of the corner of his eye, Daisy giving him some pretty heavy scrutiny. He wasn’t sure what she was looking for until she said–

“Aren’t vampires supposed to have fangs and stuff? Where are yours?”

“Ah, well, Mario and I decided that.. we couldn’t let anyone know what happened. He wanted to keep me safe, so he told me to... keep it all a secret. I have to do things to make sure nobody knows...”

He hesitated, because this was the first time he had shown anyone this side of himself. But he’d gone this far, so he might as well finish.

Pushing back his left sleeve, he revealed a thin, brown leather wristband adorned with a single green gem. A precious item given to him by a wizard in another land. With slightly shaky hands, he pulled it off his arm.

The effect was immediate. He felt a sudden weight in his jaw as his canine teeth lengthened and sharpened, the sensation unfamiliar yet somehow right. He let his mouth fall open to show Daisy the elongated teeth, deliberately avoiding using any body language that might be considered threatening. Judging by her quick intake of breath, she had seen.

He waited for her to react beyond that.

She did nothing for a while. She just stared at him.

Then, very slowly, she closed the distance between them. She grasped Luigi’s shoulders and turned him around to face her head-on, every movement gentler than he expected. There was no fear in her face and he didn’t think there ever had been.

He didn’t realise that his mouth was stupidly hanging open until she reached up and let her finger trace down the length of his left fang. It lingered at the very tip, testing the sharpness there.

There was wonder in her face.

“You’re a vampire,” she said.

He smiled weakly, heart hammering. “...Surprise?”

She laughed and smacked his shoulder, but the playfulness quickly turned into thoughtfulness. She touched his fang again.

“...So, you drink blood?”

“Just - animal blood,” he said, feeling the need to clarify. “Never person blood.”

“Really? Not ever? Not even to know what it’s like?”

His stomach rolled slightly at the thought. “No...”

“Just kidding. I know you’d never do that.”

He gazed up into her sapphire eyes. There wasn’t a hint of fear in them. In fact, the affection she had always showed him was still there, a gentle simmering warmth tucked away behind the blue.

The only thing that seemed to have changed tonight was that Luigi now shared his secret with two people, not just one.

“You really don’t think...” he began, before trailing off anxiously, biting his own lip and immediately wincing.

“Trust you to forget you’ve got fangs and cut your own lip.” Daisy shook her head, looking at him with fond exasperation. “You’re really the worst candidate for a vampire, you know, Weegee?”

He coughed a little. “You don’t think I’m a monster, then?” he said in the most offhanded way he could manage.

Daisy, naturally, saw right through him. Her face softened. “Luigi, you’re very obviously still the same person. It doesn’t matter that you’re a vampire; that’s just what you are, not who you are. And who you are is pretty great.”

He felt blood creeping up his neck towards his face. He hoped she couldn’t see it in the dim light.

“Nobody else knows except Mario,” he said, almost guiltily.

“It’s your choice whether you tell other people or not. I’ll support you either way. But honestly, you should consider telling Peach. And Toadette; she’s your friend, right?”

“Yes...”

“They won’t hate you. They’ll know that you’re still the same person.”

He was starting to feel like he could breathe freely again. The night air was suddenly fresher, the stars suddenly brighter, and when he glanced out over the ocean, he spotted an island on the horizon that he could have sworn wasn’t there before.

“Thank you,” he said, softly but sincerely. “I was worried, but... I’m glad you don’t feel badly about me.”

He let out an exclamation as Daisy pulled him into a tight hug, crushing his face against her shoulder. Inches from his ear came the steady thump-thump of her powerful heart. He was glad that real vampires weren’t out-of-control maniacs driven insane by the mere presence of blood. This did not stop his mind from wandering, wondering how she might taste...

Wrenching his mind away from such unacceptable thoughts, he smiled against her shoulder. “Thanks...”

“You might be a vampire, but you’re an adorable little vampire,” said Daisy.

[cyberhopper]

Introduction

First post here; thought I'd start off with what, exactly, I am and then include some links to my accounts.

I'm an artist(?) and writer who primarily writes Mario fanfiction and sometimes dabbles in other game fandoms. I also have lots of original characters, but you probably won't find any of that here.

I tag my stories as metablade's fics.

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Links:

AO3: MetaBlade (where I post all my fanfics) Toyhou.se: RadiantRaindragon (where I post my original stuff) Caard: RadiantRaindragon (commissions and proofreading services)

My Caard also has links to some other accounts that are owned by me, but they're not as relevant.

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My ask box is open if you have any questions, want to discuss headcanons, or wish to send me prompts. Please note that I consider all prompts to be suggestions, not requests, which means I'm not obligated to write them - and if I do, the result might not be exactly what you wanted!