You know those nights where you're not sure if you actually went to sleep or just dozed in and out of conciousness for eight hours? That was me, last night, interspersed with some rather...graphic images. Weird how something can just latch onto your sleeping brain and refuse to let you stop thinking about it
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Plum Kitaki/Franziska von Karma.
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~
It had begun when that foolish ex-attorney called her up, inviting her to visit - catch up on old times, he’d said - and taken her to the bakery he liked. She was no fool; Kitaki was a name everyone concerned with the law knew.
He had taken her into the bakery, and she had seen her; outrageously plump, and full of laughter. The woman had enveloped her in a hug as soon as she entered; so good to meet Mr. Wright’s ‘friend!’ she had said. Franziska had blushed, despite herself, memories of her dearly-departed mother.
The rest...was history.
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<3
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(The comment has been removed)
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It was her hair which had caught his eye.
They were far too similar, he thought, running his hands through those eerily familiar blonde locks; the same hair, the same glasses, the same undercurrent of darkness. It intrigued him; even under his most fearful glare, she did not back down, barely even blinked.
He tilted her head up, closing the distance - such a small stature, but the way she stood made her just as tall - and kissed her, tasting her, all the bitterness underneath those cherry-red lips.
Blood seeped out from where her nails pierced his arm. Kristoph smiled.
Wonderful.
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YOU KNOW THIS CALLS FOR SOME LUIGI, MAN. ♥
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People said he should be jealous, always being pushed to the background while his brother got all the fame. It was silly, saying he got no adventures; there was that mansion, and the time-travel thing, and the Waffle Kingdom. It wasn’t like he was being ignored.
The Warp Pipe on the lawn blooped, and Luigi lifted his hat; Mario emerged, stained with the dirt and wear of his latest journey. Luigi eased himself out of his chair on the porch, walking down to greet his brother with a smile.
They were brothers, after all. He could never hate his brother.
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It never got easier; the giant spiked turtle, rearing up above him in earsplitting fury. Mario ducked, jumped, dodged as much as one could on the heart-thumpingly narrow platform. One little slip was immediate death.
He slid under the great beast, taking quiet joy in the roar of angry confusion, and snatched the awaiting axe. No thoughts; he swung, the bridge collapsed, Bowser fell screaming into the lava.
Mario never knew how Bowser managed to escape that pit, time after time. He turned, walking towards the awaiting cell; no time to think of that.
He had a princess to save.
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“…okay. One, you have sauce on your chin.” Neku said. Beat glanced down, noticed, and wiped it off.
“And second…they’re called condiments, not condoms.”
Beat blinked.
“O-oh snap! My bad! I always mess that up.”
Neku sighed.
“Idiot.”
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