A belated moonlit commission based on a very lovely ref shot that I maybe got a bit carried away with. Consider it a pseudo sequel to this little thing. (Feel free to imagine Gowan's, "Moonlight Desires" playing in a moody reprise here.)
If you're interested in some art of your own, my Ko-Fi info is here.
And if you'd like the little vignette I scribbled to go along with the image, check below the cut:
Part of him wishes he could tell her this isn’t necessary. A small part, one that whispers when another might weep or bellow, but it’s there just the same.
You really don’t need to do this, darling. I would never have run in the first place. I would have danced my way to you regardless. Do you know that, Mina?
He cannot speak these things any more than he can look away from her. It's just as well. Her stare is a gleaming pit there is no crawling out of. His peripheral goes as far as the starlit sky, the high bright moon, the clouds. The very top of the Carpathians, sinking steadily out of view.
Yet they are dancing. Her arm is a careful iron bar around him, but the mist holds tighter still. Her mist. Her strength. Cold and cradling, whirling in a legless waltz as they spin in the moonlight like a fairy dream. They never did get to dance on their wedding day.
“Jonathan,” and her voice is crystal, “My Jonathan.”
“Yours,” he breathes. “Always yours, Wilhelmina.”
Should it worry him that he could not say otherwise if he tried? Perhaps. But it is not otherwise. He feels the vise of her mind pull snug around his and does not dread the thought of it tightening to a noose. Insurance upon insurance. As if the height were not enough to keep him pliant. As if his heart were not anchor enough to keep him sunk in the sea of her. But she is changed, his Mina, and she takes no chances. The small whispering part of him pauses to wonder how few chances were taken down on Earth; if the others were silent because they slept, or because…
She undoes his collar, slips free the cravat. The air is crisp on his throat. Her kiss is not half so sharp as the breeze when it finds him. He smiles through it all, unblinking as her.
And even so close to the heavens, he sees the moon is a dull marble beside her eyes.
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So I'm leaving work and something darts in front of me, maybe 10ft away, too fast for me to see what it is. Peek around the tree blocking my path and I see this
Just like... a whole ass hawk. Dude's gotta be about 1.5ft tall. Massive fucking bird. And it's just staring me straight in my soul like this, even as I try to move ahead. It didn't budge. And there's only this path back to my car unless I want to walk on a busy highway. So I have the option of Death By Raptor or Death By Truck.
So I walk in the poison ivy filled patch off the sidewalk. Guy still isn't moving. Still staring me directly in the eyes. And I do this thing when animals are behaving strangely where I'll talk to them, so I'm just like, "Hey, man. I don't know you. You don't know me. This feels really threatening. I'm just trying to get to my car, dude. Can I get some space please? You're a big fucking bird. I see those claws. You could kill me right now, but I'd appreciate if you didn't, ok?"
It didn't move until I was about 2ft away. Again: I'm as far from it as I can be without walking into the street. It clearly wasn't going to budge. I walk past, thing flies up (silent, btw. Scary) and lands on a brick wall a little further ahead
Anyway. Weird guy. Nearly shit my pants when I noticed a bird big enough to carry off a fully grown cat was just... there, staring me in the face, unwilling to move away from me, a human, something it should see as a threat. I watched behind me the whole rest of the way to my car, just in case this bird decided to help me shed this mortal coil. 10/10 experience. Super cool guy.
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being an older sibling is like. you've never known a life without me. mom yelled at me and it taught her she never wanted to yell at you. I painted my room purple and grey and then you did too. we live in the same house but I haven't spoken to you in months. I don't know your favorite color. I saw it was going to rain so I picked you up from school on my way home so your books wouldn't get wet. i was so worried when you woke up sick when you were three. you don't remember being sick. mom and dad made their worst mistakes with me and I'm glad they didn't make them with you. I'm doing everything for the first time so you won't be in the dark. I don't know any of your friend's names anymore. I used to know them all. if something happens to mom and dad you won't have to worry because everything will fall to me. you don't like to be home alone but even if you don't see me just knowing I'm there makes you feel better. at least that's what mom told me. you still give me jars to open for you because you can't quite get them. I only see you during dinner. i'd never even think about missing one of your concerts. I stand at the counter when I eat and now you do, too. when offered a selection of books you picked the same one I did when i was your age. I'm terrified you compare yourself to me. I love you. I don't know if you like me. I want you to. mom says dinner's ready
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Apropos of nothing, here's my personal headcanon in regards to Mario and Luigi's surname.
Now, it's been generally announced and accepted that the brothers' last name is "Mario," shackling them with the somewhat awkward full names of "Mario Mario" and "Luigi Mario." My take on this is that the family's original last name was "Marianetti" (likely coming from the more common "Marinetti"). This name was changed to "Marionetti" when the boys' grandmother came over from Italy. (A common occurrence in record keeping at immigration at the time. Someone probably had bad handwriting and smudged a pencil stroke somewhere. It happened in my family for sure).
In Brooklyn, their father went by the last name "Marionetti," which ended up shortened to just "Mario," as oftentimes he would be addressed by his surname only. (Think, "Hey, Mario! Get over here!" as opposed to "Hey, Marionetti! Get over here!")
So, the boys are born and get their names. (Their father's middle name was Mario, and so our Mario, being the oldest, inherits his father's middle name as his first name. Luigi's name maybe comes from the middle name of some uncle who is long out of the picture).
So we have "Mario Marionetti" and "Luigi Marionetti." Which, their surname being a mouthful, gets shortened to "Mario" more often than not, just like their father. And thus we end up with "Mario Mario" and "Luigi Mario," culminating in the "Mario Brothers."
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