#hope i tagged that right (its purple but just to be safe)

[haebe-doesart]

having thoughts about watcher!couri again

#couriway #couriway fanart #hbg #mcsr fanart #mcsr #tw knife #tw blood #hope i tagged that right (its purple but just to be safe) #also ive been trying to use references more and ive got a SICK pose coming up soon when i have free time to draw again #oops sorry ive neglected artfight again- its ok theres the weekend #hae did art #havent posted in so long idk what im supposed to tag already #tw eyes #the watchers

[thecreelhouse]

love’s the death of peace of mind

Paring: vampire!steve harrington x fem!reader

WC: 3.8k

this is kind of a follow up to the bitter and the sweet, in all its cringe modern vampire AU glory, but can be read as a standalone!! / MDNI

Summary: As Steve tries to soothe you during a wild thunderstorm, a major mistake on his part leads to the two of you questioning how safe this relationship really is.

CW/tags: smut (f receiving oral), some blood play, allusions to a somewhat gory injury, descriptions of blood, Steve being a sassy vampire as usual, hurt/comfort, kinda turned into a crackfic if you squint, slight angst, the rest is fluff!!

A/N: this was still in my drafts from 2021, and I’m sure the way I finished it was not what I originally had planned, but it was fun to write, so that’s all that matters! I have no clue who is still into the concept of vampire!steve, but if any of y’all are out there, I hope you enjoy this <3 title’s from the death of peace of mind - bad omens

···························

A flash of lightning combined with thunder steals your attention from your thoughts; you liked watching the rain from the comfort of a bed, sometimes even a gentle thunderstorm. But this? This is intense. Steve notices, wrapping his arms around you, slung lazily, but the energy is still protective. Keeping you safe.

“The storm will pass, promise.” He whispers in your ear, hot breath tickling against your skin. You try to suppress the shiver that creeps up your spine, but Steve still senses it; he always senses how you really feel.

You lean your head back, let it fall to his shoulder as he leaves a trail of soft, sweet kisses. Ones with no bites, no grazing of his fangs against your skin. You whine, wanting to feel something, anything, to distract you from the chaos outside. Steve is quiet but you can feel his smirk against your skin as he continues kissing downward.

Another sharp streak of light shoots across the sky, followed by a low, deep rumble shakes the walls of his home. You shiver, nervous, still under his touch. Again, Steve never misses the details.

“Do you want me to distract you?“

After asking he sucks on the delicate skin of your neck, causing a groan to slip between your lips. Heat rises to your face; though you’ve been together for months now, you still don’t want to come off as easy or needy. 

“Steve, it’s okay, really—“

His strong hands start traveling from your hips, each hand going in the opposite direction. The left is snaking up your curves, caressing them as he reaches your breasts, teasingly touching them. His right hand ghosts above your waistband, index finger dipping under the fabric, just enough to excite but not enough for anything to actually happen.

Your eyes roll back as you force yourself to stay still. “Steve…”

“Yes, love?” His hands don’t do enough, in either location. Only enough to tease you, to rile you up, but never enough to actually bring pleasure.

Lightning cracks the deep purple sky open outside the window, and you jump at the heavy noise it brings moments later. Steve’s fingers tighten around your body as he holds you, and you can’t help but roll your hips back into him. He groans lowly as your backside rubs against his erection.

“Don’t tease me, love.” Steve warns softly. He’s been calling you ‘love’ more than ‘sweetheart’ lately, and your stomach flips each time as you hear it. “Do you want this?”

You nod, sucking in a breath sharply. Steve sinks his fangs into you, not fully, just enough to pinch, to catch your attention.

“Use your words,” He orders, voice quiet, almost mellow.

“Y- yes, Steve.” You force yourself to speak out, shuddering as he flexes his hips into you from behind; hard and teasing underneath the layers of clothing you both have.

Steve pushes back from you, leaving you confused for a moment. You look back, watching as Steve slides off the bed.

“Wha—“

You’re flipped over, just before soft, slow kisses are pressed against your clothed back. Steve begins pulling your pants down slowly, kissing along the way as your skin is exposed.

As his lips reach the swell of your backside, he bites, softly at first, then sucks. Your knees nearly buckle beneath you as you cry out in surprise.

“Babe, wait-“ Steve mirrors his actions again, sucking your skin as he moves down your body. You jolt at the sharpness of his fangs, but nearly melt as his tongue runs over the pain.

Steve pulls back, looking up at you. The tips of his sharpest teeth and lips are lightly tinted red from your blood. “What’s wrong, love? Want me to stop?”

You steady your breathing, and Steve’s arms wrap around your legs, holding you steady and upright. A giggle escapes you as you become a little lightheaded— from pleasure or pain, you’re unsure, but you embrace it regardless.

“Wanna see you,” You whine. “Let me s- see you,” you try to order, but you sound unsure, voice wavering as you try to direct your partner.

Steve smirks at you, fangs peeking out, “You telling me what to do now?”

“Yes, yeah, I- I am.” Your reply is shaky, but you want this to go differently. You want to be in control for once.

“Your wish is my command, darling.” You roll your eyes at the corny remark;

Steve swiftly flips you back over, moving to kneel in front of you.

His embrace on your legs continues to hold you in place, one arm around each leg. As he rests his head against one leg, he looks up at you in a dreamy daze.

“What next, princess?”

Warmth blooms along your face as you become flustered at the pet name. “Uh- I—“

Another sharp crack of thunder hits your ears, and you jump, startled. You can’t help but stare out the window in fear as the lightning brings near-daylight to the sky.

Steve kisses your inner thigh, sending shivers across your body. “Come back to me, love. We’re okay inside here.”

You hesitantly break your gaze away from the world outside, looking back at Steve as he caresses the leg he isn’t leaning on, while kissing the other softly. Again, heat flushes under your skin while your stomach flutters.

Then, you blurt out before thinking, “You— you’re immortal, right? Stuff like that—,” You nod back to the window, heavy rain cascading down the glass as thunder booms outside, “—can’t kill you?”

Steve smiles warmly at your question, hand trailing up your leg slowly. He knows you know the answer, you just like to be reassured. “Not even a wild storm like this could take me away from you.”

You try to roll your eyes, but stop midway as his hand creeps further toward your core, stopping just at your inner thigh closest to the edge of your underwear. His finger teases along the hem, lazily slipping under, but not reaching where you need him most. You whine, wishing he’d move further.

“N- not even climate—“ Steve’s finger reaches just a bit further under the fabric, teasing closer to your folds. Your breath hitches before you can finish your thought. “— ch- change?”

Steve shrugs casually, face getting closer to your core. He kisses his way up your skin, chuckling at your question.

“Guess we’ll see,” Steve sinks his fangs into your inner thigh, causing you to gasp sharply. Your hands fly to his hair, tangling within his messy locks to tug clumsily. “Might die sooner from you not giving me orders, though. Can’t wait forever, sweetheart.”

A shaky laugh escapes you as his tongue swipes over the wound. Your hips involuntarily roll towards him in response. “Y- you can wait forever, but I can’t.”

“Hm… Not if you let me change that for you,” Steve murmurs into your skin. He kisses one more time, then before you can quip back in response, he nuzzles his face against your clothed core.

“S- sweet—“ You gasp, pushing yourself against Steve’s nose as it brushes against your clit. “— Jesus, Mary, and Joseph—“

“All good guesses, but they’re not here. I can take a message, though.” Steve jokingly replies, and you tug his hair quick and rough, making his laugh die in his throat.

“Get— oh—“ Steve kisses your core through the fabric. Wet, open mouthed kisses only add to the already nearly drenched mess you’ve leaked already. “Get to w- work, love.”

Steve’s fingers hook into and under your panties, pulling them down as he stares up at you, enjoying how flustered you are. Usually, he calls the shots. He’s the one to order you, to guide you on what to do. He knows this is out of your comfort zone.

So, he guides you just a little differently this time.

“Tell me what you want, and I’m yours, love.” His breath fans over your folds and you clench at the sensation. He smirks at the action before reiterating, “Give me direction. Give me your desires, and I’ll make them come true.”

You’re always ready to roll your eyes— jokingly, of course— at the way he speaks like he’s centuries older than you, which isn’t too far off. At times like these, though, he’s ready to challenge your attitude back in the form of weaponized pleasure.

Steve’s tongue flicks out, swiping over your clit quickly, earning a jolt and a short cry from you.

“I’m in ch- charge, remember?” You say, but you have a hard time believing it yourself as you catch your breath.

“Sweetheart, even if you tell me to take it from here, that’s an order. You’re still in charge. Let me take care of you.”

Lightning nearly blinds you as it floods light through the windows. Thunder claps, shaking the apartment with a little more force than before. Your grip on Steve’s hair, though shaky, grows tighter.

“Ple- please, Steve… I- I-…need you…”

“Yeah?” Steve drags his fangs against one of your folds, lightly scraping along the skin’s surface. You gasp, about to push him closer, but he stops. He holds himself back with great force, that inhuman strength that vampires seem to have.

You nod furiously, “Anything— do anyth—“

Steve lifts you with that same strength onto his shoulders, legs over his shoulders as he backs you against the nearest wall. Your breath comes out as a gasp as your back hits the wall. Steve’s grip is tight on you, already digging his fingers into your thighs, holding you up effortlessly.

“I’ve got you, my love.” Steve murmurs against your core before delving into your folds. 

His tongue parts your folds, licking upwards soft and slow, leading to your clit. He circles it a few times before softly sucking, almost kissing, making out with your core. Your eyes roll back, grip still strong as hell on his hair, tugging him closer. 

Steve grunts into you as his tongue continues to work meticulously, taking his time to bring you to your destination. Lightning flashes again, startling you, until a slight yet sharp sensation swipes along your folds.

 “St— fuck! Did you just-” You dare to look between your legs, where Steve’s still teasing you with his mouth, but there’s a small sheen of red spreading from his lips. “… Oh- oh my god… fuck,” You feel lightheaded, in an airy daze as thunder rattles the walls, vibrating against your back while Steve soothes the bites with soft kisses. 

“Stay with me,” He mumbles against your core, lapping at the blood mixed with your arousal. His grip on you is almost too tight, fingernails bound to leave little crescent moon indents along your skin. As you whimper, he looks up as his eyes turn into that deep, dangerous red you’ve only seen a few times before.

There’s an intensity between leading you to your high, and the taste of your sweet blood on Steve’s tongue; he’s never met, fucked, or loved anyone that he also wanted to drain of their blood. Not until he met you.

It’s a thin, wavering fence Steve’s stuck on, one made of barbed wire, his instincts to kill tempting him to one side, while his adoration for you coaxes him to the other.

It takes your ears ringing and your vision closing in, dark at the edges, for you to finally rasp out, “R- red.”

Your voice is so quiet, so soft, it’s not until you’re growing limp in Steve’s hold that he hears you repeat your safe word again, louder and with more desperation this time.

“Red— fuck! Steve, please!”

The distress in your plea pulls him out of his bloodlust, enough to realize what’s going on. Steve pulls back, lips glistening with evidence of your lust-driven bliss, and his inflicted pain onto you. 

“I’m so sorry, love,” He rushes to bring you back to bed safely, examining the puncture wounds in such a delicate area. “Fuck, I- don’t move, okay?” As you lay against the pillows, eyes heavy with lust, exhaustion, and agony, he spreads your legs again. 

You whine with the little strength you have left, trying to back away, but with Steve’s inhuman strength yet again, he holds you down, holds you still. His lips are back on your heat, but with a gentle, restrained touch. You’re panting, on the verge of consciousness, leaving you in a near-delirious state as he flicks his tongue against your wounds.

“Steve…”

“I know, love, hang on, I’ll make it all better,” He kisses the pain away, literally, cautious as he makes the effort to keep his fangs away from your skin. He continues to soothe and heal the bite marks, something that always had you stunned from the first time he healed you.

The sting subsides and the fire weakens as Steve cares for you, and through your tunnel vision, you can barely see the intensity of red in his eyes settle into the calm, serene shade they usually are. Delirious, you can’t help blurting “Y’so pretty, Steve.”

He wipes the excess blood away from his lips with the back of his hand, crawling back up to you to as his airy touch lands under your your chin, softly tilting your head up. A thumb lingers at the corner of your mouth as you weakly smile; eyes weighed down with fatigue, you can barely keep your gaze on his.

“H- how do you feel?” Steve’s nervous to ask, but your safety is always a priority to him. Except this time, he fucked it up. He didn’t think you lost a lot of blood, but he was also caught up in his own bloodlust, so this all feels like such a blur.

One minute, Steve’s distracting you from the storm, determined to make you feel better, then the next, you’re nearly fainting in his grip, and he’s got blood all over his face. Your blood.

You’ve had your fair share of blood play since the first night together, and Steve usually never initiated scenes first, always patiently waiting for your consent and desire. You’ve tried reassuring him he never had to wait, unless you explicitly stated so, but Steve didn’t take a kink with possible heavy consequences so lightly.

This was… different. Holding back has been challenging at times, but the craving to literally suck the life out of you had never been stronger than right now.

“Kinda cold, kinda tingly, why?” You sound tipsy, almost intoxicated from Steve’s mistake, eyes fluttering shut. “Kinda sleepy, too.”

His hands gently pat your face, “Don’t fall asleep, I— ” He had no clue what to do or how to help. Healing wasn’t enough. While you’re not dying, you’re definitely fighting to stay conscious. 

He’s never stopped midway before, even during the few, accidental feedings he’s initiated in the past. In those moments, he figured putting someone out of the misery he inflicted was better than leaving them spaced-out, suffering in the hollow in between.

Then, Steve remembers— while he might not know what to do in an emergency like this, his best friend sure does.

···························

“You’re lucky the storm kept me up,” Robin mutters, packing up the medical supplies she grabbed in a hurry. “And that I even had a stash at all. I think the blood bank is catching on that someone’s taking donations, and I really wanna keep this job.”

Steve, overwhelmed by a whirlwind of emotions, hugs her tightly before softly speaking up, “Thank you. I owe you.”

She returns the hug, feeling Steve shake, still freaked out by the entire mess. “She’s gonna be fine, just… maybe don’t be such a reckless slut for once, yeah?”

Pulling back, Steve glares at her, “Here I thought we were having a, uh… bestie moment.”

“Bestie? Jesus, she’s definitely rubbing off on you.” Robin gives Steve a knowing smile, heading for the door. “Make sure she rests and stays hydrated and all of that, and maybe don’t, like, fuck for awhile, alright?”

Steve sighs as he points out the door, “Okay, okay, enough. Don’t you have your own bloodsucker to get home to?”

Robin flips him off playfully before exiting, only to turn around and add, “Uh, hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t turn her, not unless she’s ready… and not until you’re ready, too.”

Steve immediately picks up on her reference to turning a previous partner, only for that relationship and said partner’s mentality to completely break.

With an empathetic nod, he replies, “I won’t. Promise.” Once the door closes behind Robin, he immediately hurries back to you, still in the bedroom.

A little over an hour passes until the blood transfusion starts to make you feel better, and you’re surprised how immediate the changes are. You’re still somewhat tired, but the tunnel vision and ear ringing has vanished, along with the cool, pins and needles sensation.

The door creaks open, causing you to whip your head around, away from the view at the window, and Steve panics. “Don’t move so fast like that.” You’re propped up in a lavish, burnt red velvet chair, with tons of pillows around you for extra comfort. The blood bag, more than halfway empty, hangs from the IV pole next to you.

Steve still couldn’t believe how lucky he was that Robin just had all of this shit at home.

“Steve, look, the storm stopped,” You murmur sleepily while a lovesick smile curls up on your face at the sight of him.

Standing behind the chair, Steve looks out the window, and while it’s practically pitch black— how the hell could you see anything?— the fear-inducing show of thunder and lightning finally came to a close. He leans down to kiss the top of your head, eventually making his way onto the floor in front of you.

 His hand reaches for yours, weaving his fingers between your own and squeezing tightly.

While the concern is endearing, you can clearly tell Steve’s shaken up. “I’m okay, Steve, seriously.” You can’t be bothered to hide the giggle that slips out of you. “Just glad I didn’t die because you felt the need to bite my fucking pus— ”

His head falls forward onto a pillow near your leg, sighing with a weak chuckle. “Don’t say it. I’m already ashamed, don’t need to be embarrassed too.”

“Oh, c’mon, I think this whole thing gives me a free pass to tease you for stabbing my cunt with your pointy-ass teeth.”

He picks himself up to narrow his gaze towards you. “Love, that does not sound any better than what you almost said before.”

You smirk playfully at Steve, “Yeah, I know. At least you didn’t try to fix this by turning me. That would’ve been really embarrassing.”

“Alright, I can tell you and Robin were talking shit,” He teases, but it doesn’t stave off the looming dread he’s had over hurting you. “Hey… can we be serious for a second?”

Your face instantly falls, “What’s wrong?”

Steve shakes his head wildly, “No, nothing, I mean, something, but not you. I’m sorry this even happened to begin with.”

“Babe, I said it’s okay, I really mean that.”

“I- I appreciate the grace and forgiveness, but even if this wasn’t exactly deadly… it could be. This kind of showed me that I can’t trust myself around you.”

You frown, “It’s okay to be scared, but I knew the risks I’d take if we kept seeing each other. You might not trust you, but I trust you still.”

Steve wishes he could just give you the world; you always hold space for him to be… well, not human, but himself. Slip-ups have happened, but they’ve never gone this far.

“What if I couldn’t stop myself next time it happens?”

“You’ve stopped yourself before, I know you can again… And if you don’t, that’s just the reality of us.”

“Yeah, well, you definitely deserve a partner who doesn’t have the possibility of killing you someday.” 

“You could always just turn me, y’know.” You suggest this so casually, as if it’s not a life altering decision, one that would follow you for eternity. Steve opens his mouth to argue, but you’re faster, “You said it yourself, earlier. Maybe it’d make this easier and give you peace of mind.”

Steve couldn’t believe not only how nonchalant you are, offering the idea, but you’re also offering the concept more for his sake than your own. Sometimes, just sometimes, he wishes that the two of you had never gone beyond a one night stand. Only to protect you.

“Sweetheart, I think we need to wait.” Robin’s warning echoes in his head. ‘Don’t turn her, not unless she’s ready… and not until you’re ready, too.’  “Not until we’re both ready.”

You know what you want, but it’d be rotten to pressure Steve into this. So you nod softly, sighing from your pursed lips. “When you’re ready, you’ll tell me, won’t you?”

He hesitates, but he knows he owes you an actual answer. No dancing around it this time. “Yes. I will.”

The two of you enjoy a comfortable silence, while Steve decides to squeeze himself between you and the ridiculous amount of pillows. With care and caution, he pulls you closer, letting you rest your head on his chest while his arm wraps around you.

“Steve?”

“Hm?”

“Thank you for loving me better than anyone else has,” You murmur, shy to say it out loud. 

“Wh- I never said I—”

“You might be able to sense shifts in energy and emotions, but I’m good at reading others, and you’re a book open wide, love.” You glance up at him, “And I love you too, y’know.”

Steve blushes over your reverse confession, only able to pull you closer and continue to comfort you, at a loss for words.

You were right, he did want to turn you when he joked earlier, but now he’s certain that he’s ready—

“Oh, did Robin tell you how to remove the needle? I kinda… forgot.” You break his thoughts, drawing a smile on his face. He adores these small moments with you that are a reminder of the quirks and mundane, imperfect details of being human. It’s your vulnerability that roped him in to begin with, something he hadn’t experienced himself in a long, long time.

Maybe Steve isn’t ready to let you let that go just yet.

“Uh…. No. Shit. I can always call her,” Steve grabs his phone from his pocket, but you shove it away.

“I don’t wanna bother her,” You admit as you open your phone, too. “There’s gotta be like… a YouTube tutorial for this, right? There’s a tutorial for everything.” A laugh slips out of Steve, contagious enough to make your own giggles rise out of you.

Yeah, Steve’s absolutely not ready to let you let this version of yourself go. Not yet.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x you #vampire!steve harrington #vampire au #steve harrington smut #my fics #love’s the death of peace of mind

[atiny-piratequeen]

Doᥴtor's Assιstᥲᥒt

Summary: The Doctor needs an extra hand perfecting a new aphrodisiac.

...Well, you wont be using your hands, but that's besides the point

𓆩⟡𓆪 Pairing: Fem!Reader x Geb(Yunho)

𓆩⟡𓆪Genres/Aus: Against the Tide Verse (its an Au in an AU-), Non Idolverse, Smut

𓆩⟡𓆪Tws: Swearing

𓆩⟡𓆪Sws: (Everything is Safe, Sane, and Consensual), Consentacle Tentacles (Vines), Bondage, Fingering, Consensual Sexual Experimentation, Aphrodisiac Use, Fingering, Objectification

𓆩⟡𓆪Rating: Explicit/Mature (18+)

𓆩⟡𓆪WC: 800+

𓆩⟡𓆪A/n: For any of my non AtTiny who want to know who Geb is and how he’s tied to Yunho…idk maybe read a bombastic in progress work of art that explains it all cough cough.

This was a popcorn commission from the lovely @atiny-dazzlinglight that I finished a bit ago but life happened and I didn’t post it till now. Sorry for the hold up and I hope you and all my AtTiny can enjoy~

𓆩⟡𓆪AO3| Taglist Form (Please make sure your urls are updated and able to actually be tagged) | Commission Sheet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪Network Ping- @kwritersworld| @k-vanity | @cultofdionysusnet𓆩⟡𓆪

𓆩⟡𓆪©atiny-piratequeen. do not repost, translate, or use my works𓆩⟡𓆪

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･

“F-fuck, oh my God-”

“My, that’s an interesting reaction.” 

Had it had been any other day, you might have been able to conjure up a bratty response. Instead, you look up through the tears blurring your vision, lips quivering as you angle your head up for a kiss. 

“I see the purple one has a stronger effect on you than the red one from earlier did. Poor thing, you look like you’ll melt right out of my lap if I weren’t holding onto you.” Geb mused, his vines writhing along your skin, pulling and tugging you close to his chest as he angled his head down. 

You whimper, a sliver of pink slipping past your parted lips as you lick at his own, successfully enticing him to kiss you. 

“More.” You beg as large hands find their home on your waist, caressing and mapping out every curve, tracing every stretch mark, all while stunning ice-colored eyes remain fixed on your face. 

“I wonder what would happen if we mixed them. The warmth of the Flame Lily mixing with the stimulant enhancement in the Clivia-”He went off mumbling under his breath, humming as he wrapped his arms around you, idly rubbing your clit in circles as he talked himself through formulas for more nectar combinations. 

He was off in his own world, truly and completely, and it made goosebumps rise on your skin to both be doted on, and spoiled, but also to feel like you were just another object in the room as the good doctor‘s fingers pinched and rolled your clit idly. 

“Please-”

“Mm, maybe if I increase the dose by a few grams, it’ll last a bit longer, I don’t like how easily the other dose wore off.” He mused, resting his chin on your shoulder. You squirm, clenching on nothing, legs twitching in his vines. He didn’t say a word to you, muttering in English and another language you didn’t understand, sorting through his thoughts. 

You open your mouth to whine again, but a gasp of surprise tumbles through instead. His hand had worked its way lower as he distracted himself-and apparently you-with his mutters. Warm, slightly calloused fingers curl over your thigh, massaging for a moment, before working between your lower lips. 

You jolt the moment he touches you. It seemed the purple concoction he’d given you minutes ago had left you much more sensitive than you’d expected. 

The vines twitch and contrast around you, tightening and keeping your legs spread as those long fingers push into you, and you’re flustered by the way his attention snapped into focus at the whorish moan the action drew from your lips. 

“O h~ It seems like I found the perfect mix, did I?” He purred, kissing up the base of your neck and smiling as he worked those fingers in and out of you, scissoring them apart as you arch your back. 

You’re almost embarrassed at how wet you are, arching your back and gasping pathetically as he curled his fingers up. 

“My, this is wonderful news. I believe I’ve found the perfect balance for this.” His voice rumbles through your head, and it's now that you realize his fingers were coated in the aphrodisiac he’d been muttering out. You shakily glance down, cheeks flushed as the pretty liquid falls to the floor at his feet as you remain held up by the vines, joining droplets of your essence onto the floor. 

Your eyes flutter as you clench around his fingers. Goosebumps rise on your skin as he alternated between thrusting his fingers in with deep, near methodical motions, curling and searching for that delightful spot, and quick, off-beat thrusts. 

“Geb~ G-geb fuck, yes yes yes nn-” its now you realize you’re drooling, your arms being pulled behind your back by his vines as a slow, deceptively calm smile stretched across his face. 

“You can make a mess. We’re only just getting started.” He promised, kissing you and pushing more of the sweet-tasting nectar onto your tongue through it. You feel your body jerk and tighten, kissing him sloppily as you make a mess of his fingers, hand, and the floor. 

His eyes slowly drift down to the puddle that’s left behind before he ran his hand over the top of your head, kissing the tears that had fallen from the corner of your eye away. 

“Are you still alright, my love?” He rumbled, his gentle voice bouncing around in your head. You nod, body buzzing in delight as you look at him, whining in offense when he pulled those long fingers out of you. 

“No-”

“-ah ah.” He quiets you, holding your gaze as he ran his tongue over the mixture of nectar and cum on his fingers. 

“Like I said. We’re only j u s t getting started. Catch your breath. I still have many more to try with you.”

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　Tag List　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･

@kimnamshiks @atiny-dazzlinglight @angel0taiyo @jacksons-goddess-gaia @gettin-a-lil-hanse @yunhofingers @seomisaho @ateezwonderland @smallfrye @spooo00oky @shymexican @stardragongalaxy @horizonmoonfics @delphinium3000 @xuxibelle @twistedsiren @soluvcore @dreamyinception-world @justatiredhuman @serialee @yungiland @shingisimp @drunk-on-hwa @perfectlysane24 @asyamonet22 @bangteezbaby @universe-sighted @skmoonchild @babiebumm @jess-1404 @violetwinters @xlilehx @ateezswonderland

#fie writes #kwritersworldnet #cultofdionysusnet #k-vanity #against the tide #AtT #geb oneshot #jeong yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #yunho x reader #kpop mythology au #yunho smut #AtT smut #kpop fanfic #ateez fanfic #ateez smut

[the-muppet-joker]

I Felt Your Embrace

Part 1

Tags: Joker x Kermit, Cosmo Kramer, Joker's Cum Makes Kermit Insane, Cum Harvesting

--Martians (Sesame Street) x Kramer, Vore, and more to come in part 2--

♤♡♧♧

Cosmo Kramer had done some odd jobs in his life, this one was just about to take the cake. He was visiting Gotham on a whim, and saw an ad in the paper for a delivery job that seemed to be a quick cash grab. "Delivery boy wanted for a Mr. Joker, eh? Sounds like I just gotta deliver clown supplies or somethin, like those flowers that shoot people with water, or maybe juggling balls. Shouldn't be too difficult...might even get free clown supplies. You never know, could come in handy..."

He realized, too late, that this Joker was no ordinary clown. Before him was a scene that was equal parts disturbing, errotic, and baffling. A green muppet fellow, a frog by the looks of it, lay in an ecstatic stupor on the floor of the warehouse the Joker had requested Kramer meet him at. The muppet, addressed by the clown as "Kermit" had been in a violent frenzy when Kramer had arrived, and only calmed down when Joker had scooped copious amounts of a strange, sticky fluid out of the hole in his back, storing it safely in a jar. The way Kermit had moaned and shuddered at the contact, and how even in his subdued state he lay twitching on the floor with a blissful, fucked out look in his eyes... Kramer eyed the substance in the jar and gulped nervously. Whatever it was, it sure made that muppet go wild.

The clown who hired him cleared his throat, snapping Kramer out of his thoughts. He looked different than most clowns he had seen: instead of silly, baggy clothes, he wore a tight-fitting, stylish purple suit that complimented his lean figure. Where most clowns had painted a dopey smile, the Joker's milky white face had a sharp, crimson grin. And his eyes... his eyes were what drew Kramer in the most acid green, with a slight glow that matched that of the jar's contents.

"If you're done staring, I'd like to talk business," Joker crooned. Kramer nodded wordlessly, wondering when his mouth had gotten so dry. Joker grinned.

"My darling Kermit over there has a group of acquantences who are... new in town, so to speak. They have a passion for cataloging just about everything on earth in this quaint little book of theirs."

Joker's eyes burned into Kramer's as he spoke, and Kramer was suddenly reminded of a snake constricting its prey.

"They stopped by unexpectedly the other day in the middle of one of me and Kermit's... sessions, and they want a sample of whatever made him act so strangely so they may research it." Joker pressed the jar and a slip of paper into Kramer's sweaty hands. Joker's long, spiderlike fingers brushed against Kramer's and he had to surpress a yelp. Jesus, I don't know if I'm more terrified or turned on by this weirdo, but I gotta snap out of it. You're here for a job, Kramer. Think of the cash, Kramer thought desperately.

"Go to the address on that paper and deliver this. Get their signature confirming they received it, return here, and I will reward you handsomly. Joker finished with a blood-red smile.

"With cash, right? $1000?" Kramer asked, fidgeting. He wasn't sure where to look; hot-creepy clown, moaning muppet, jar of glowing cum in his hands... Jerry was never going to believe this shit.

Joker just smiled even wider, and Kramer babbled an assortment of "sounds good" and "got it boss" type phrases as he stumbled out the door. This clown is outta control, he thought, hoping the folks at the location on the paper would be less strange...

--Part 2 Coming Soon--

#Kermit x joker #nsft #kermit joker writes

[museywrites]

Xiantober 2023 - Day 2: Dragon!Xian

Word Count: 3,814 Pairing: Wangxian Tags: Immortal Dragon Wei Wuxian, Sacrifice Lan Wangji, Misunderstood dragon

“The sacrifice has been chosen.”

“Old man Lan isn’t going to like this.”

“He doesn’t have to like it. All of us suffer for this beast!”

“...Right you are.”

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

“What?! Wangji? But why? I-” A pause.” I am older so I should be the sacrifice!” Lan Xichen looked at his uncle in disbelief. Of course, no one wanted to be sent to the beast, but he couldn’t stand the idea of his little brother dying at the hands of the old God.

“You know that is not how it works, Xichen.” Lan Qiren mumbled sullenly, his head hung low as his gaze remained unfocused on his tea. He knew it was a chance. Every family that had two or more children were always hit. But his nephews were well past the normal age of sacrifice.

He thought… He thought that they had lucked out. He thought that his nephews were safe. Of course he had been too hopeful.

“We can’t just let them take him, Shufu! We… We can’t… I don’t want to lose him…”

“I know.I do not want to either.”

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

Lan Wangji watched his brother and uncle for a moment before he did something that the Lans never did. He stepped forward and pulled them both into a tight hug. “Everything will be okay.” He said softly.

There were tears and lasting embraces before Wangji finally stepped back and bowed to his family before beginning the trek up the winding mountain stairs.

It took almost the whole day for him to reach his goal.

The gorgeous mountain pass had almost made him forget about his impending death. He paused in front of the gorgeous moon gate, noting the delicate plants and twinkling chimes that decorated the entryway.

A soft mist gathered around the gate, swirling mystically as Lan Zhan stepped forward, chimes echoing around as he passed through the archway. As soon as he passed through, the thin air from the mountain top suddenly felt much more breathable, and instead of a mountain top, Lan Zhan found himself standing in a massive field with thick, luscious grass, and wild flowers speckled all throughout the field. The starlit sky was now bright and blue with a blazing sun high above.

In the far back of the field were dozens of trees, speckled across the horizon in a beautiful forest, but just in front of the trees was a beautiful cabin. He briefly wondered what it was for.

In the center, however, was the object of his concern.

Larger than any creature he had ever seen, coiled around itself like a snake, was a massive, black dragon that glittered with flecks of red in the brilliant sunlight. Red horns and a mane trailed along its back. The creature was absolutely stunning. Despite his massive size, the dragon seemed much smaller as he coiled around himself, head resting on top of his own body as he slept.

Lan Wangji remained frozen, watching it for several long moments, but the creature never stirred. So all he could do was sit patiently and wait for it to wake so he could fulfill his role as the sacrifice.

He waited for some time until his own tiredness won out. With arms folded across his chest and his head tipped forward, he fell into a deep sleep, somehow, he didn't feel in danger despite his circumstances.

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

Lan Wangji woke when the sky had shifted from a beautiful blue, mid-day, to a shimmering array of blues and purples and pinks. Stars began to freckle the sky and he was sure that he had slept for several hours, though given the shift of time when he passed through the moon gate, he wasn't sure how time worked here.

But his main focus was not on the glittering sky or the fireflies that began to flicker around the field. No. His golden gaze was focused on the massive dragon laying in front of him. His head, easily the size of a horse drawn carriage, rested mere inches away from him.

Large, beautiful silver eyes watched him curiously, never once blinking for fear of missing a movement. The dragon was breathing very slowly, very carefully, as if to not blow the poor human away with his breath.

Somewhere far behind the dragon, there was a heavy sound of something dragging through the grass, and it wasn't hard to piece together that it was the dragon's tail, slowly sliding from side to side in a lazy fashion.

For a moment, Lan Wangji sat very still, his gaze locked on the large silver eyes.

This dragon… really was magnificent, and he was sure fearsome, but the only feeling the human was getting from him, was curiosity.

"...Hello. I… apologize for falling asleep. I did not wish to wake you." Lan Wangji wasn't sure if the old God could understand him or not. But he felt awkward having been asleep.

The dragon huffed a large puff of air through his nose, his two long, red whispers blew out, tickling either side of Lan Zhan.

Then, without warning, a voice emitted from the dragon. It was thunderous, yet somehow gentle at the same time. The timbre was lovely, but Lan Wangji could feel a sense of… resignation… Loneliness, in his voice.

"You did not run?"

"No. I was chosen, so I will fulfill my role."

The dragon lifted his head, easily towering over Lan Wangji.

"Surely, you do not wish to die."

"...I do not, but death comes for all of us. If my death keeps my family safe, then I will accept it without complaint."

The dragon hummed, standing up onto his feet before a bright light emitted from him, quickly followed by a gust of wind. Lan Wangji had to shield his eyes, but when he opened them, he was no longer face to face with the dragon. Instead, in front of him was the most beautiful man he had ever laid eyes on.

"I will allow you to leave." He said quietly, "but you will have no recollection of your life up to this point."

Confusion and shock flickered through Lan Wangji's golden gaze. "What?"

He took a few steps forward and crouched down in front of him. Lan Wangji could see the same, beautiful silver eyes with  dark slitted pupils. His tanned skin was freckled with black and gray scales reminiscent of his dragon form. 

He truly was the same as the magnificent beast he saw.

"You will travel through the forest behind me until you reach the moon gate. When you pass through, you will have no memory of your life up to this point. But you will be alive and safe." He stood and turned to leave, but without thinking Lan Wangji grabbed his hand.

"Why would you just let me go? You demand these sacrifices and yet–"

"I demand nothing." The dragon said simply. "Many years ago, a mortal came to my realm and asked for me to aid in battle. I saw through his lies, painting himself and his people as victims, when in truth, they were the villains. So I destroyed their armies. As thanks, tributes were made to me. At first they were reasonable things, like food or money."

He frowned. "But eventually, they began to send humans. My existence began to warp to the humans of your world. They pray to me for protection, and offer me humans as sacrifice, I do not require any such thing. But I also do not align with any one kingdom in the mortal realm. I protect who is deserving of it."

"Then why not tell the humans?! Why accept the sacrifices and then make us lose our memories?"

"I have tried, but they still believe that I will change sides unless they provide sacrifices." He sighed. "Once a mortal passes through the moon gate, they cannot return to the mortal realm without sacrificing something. It signifies birth and renewal. The birth of a new life, in this case." He pulled his hand free.

"So go… you are free to leave."

"...and what will happen if I do not leave?"

"Then you stay here. Just as you are. But what kind of life would that be? A life of solitude is not one I would wish on anyone."

"...do you live a life of solitude?"

He glanced over his shoulder at him before he turned away again. "The path to the second moon gate is straight through those woods. You should go."

The dragon shifted once more, returning to his massive form before he took off to the skies.

Lan Wangji watched him go before he hesitantly stood and headed towards the woods.

It took him an hour of walking before he found the gate in question, yet, he could not bring himself to walk through.

He did not wish to forget his family, but also, he would be lying if he said the dragon did not ignite a curiosity inside of him…. So he turned around and returned to that field, stopping at the cabin near the forest. He could see smoke coming from its chimney, and he wondered if the dragon lived here. 

A quick peek through the window confirmed his suspicion and he decided to leave him be for now, making his own make-shift shelter nearby.

The next morning, the dragon exited his home to find Lan Wangji nearby, and his silver eyes widened. "You are still here?"

"Yes. I do not wish to lose my memories."

"..." the dragon watched him for a moment, never before had a sacrifice chosen to stay. But he would not get his hopes up. He was sure the man would leave shortly. So for now, he invited him into his home.

Lab Wangji learned that the dragon's name was Wei Ying, and he learned that he was very good at hiding who he was.

He spoke distantly, as if trying to keep a wall between them, but when he wasn't careful, glimmers of his true self would slip through.

He got excited when he learned about things from the human world. He grew angry when he learned of wars, no matter how distant.

He spoke fondly of humans, but there was always a twinge of sadness.

With his makeshift home forgotten, Lan Wangji began to live with the dragon. Slowly, he chipped away at that wall, each day growing a little closer to the creature.

He was lonely.

Thousands of years he was confined to this realm, only permitted to leave by the other Gods when he received enough prayers. A punishment for the war he aided in, some several thousand years ago. The war that started the offerings.

When you finally got him talking, Wei Ying really never stopped. He talked about his realm, his cottage, his garden. Oh he was so very proud of his garden. He talked about the humans he has met in the past, he talked about his skills and abilities. He talked about flying, and how feeling the wind in his mane is the most wonderful feeling in the world.

Lan Zhan found himself enchanted by the dragon. The beautiful, lonely dragon, who is surprised to see Lan Zhan there every morning. He loves to listen to him speak, to hear him describe his centuries of life, or to ramble about his plethora of knowledge.

But most of all, Lan Zhan loves when the dragon smiles. Or when he laughs. Both make Lan Zhan feel lost in a sea of adoration.

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

By his calculations, he has been in the dragon's realm for three months now, and every morning, he hides a smile as Wei Ying gets excited when he sees Lan Zhan has once again, not left the realm.

The look of surprise that is quickly replaced by a soft happiness and a barely concealed giddiness is what makes Lan Zhan feel weak in the knees.

Lan Zhan takes to making their food for them, delighting in the way his dragon preens and praises his cooking.

There was even a day where Lan Zhan sat there with a brush and brushed out every inch of the dragon's magnificent red mane.

As more time began to pass, the dragon and the human began to grow closer together, relishing in each other's company.

They spent most nights laying in the field, watching the stars as Wei Ying stayed curled up around Lan Zhan, allowing the human to lay comfortably on him.

The more comfortable the dragon became, the more Lan Zhan realized… he was falling in love with him. With his smile, with his laugh, with the adorable little pout he got when Lan Zhan scolded him for talking while eating.

Lan Zhan got to see a side of him that he was certain no one had ever seen before.

There were times he would wake in the middle of the night and find his companion missing from their shared room, and when he would go look for him, he would find him dancing amongst the fireflies, or singing under the stars.

One time, when the human caught him dancing, Wei Ying pulled him into the field with him, spinning around with him and laughing as they swayed to a music that no one but them could hear.

Then one day, Wei Ying seemed to change. He became quiet and distant. Lan Zhan wasn’t sure what was wrong.

He fed the dragon his favorite food, making sure to add extra spice. He warmed him a bath, offered to brush his mane, tried to coax him for a walk… But Wei Ying denied all of it.

Wei Ying even went to bed before Lan Zhan did. In the morning, Wei Ying was nowhere to be seen.

Lan Zhan searched the forest behind their now-shared cabin for hours, he kept his eyes on the sky, hoping to find his sweet dragon, but he saw no sign of him. It wasn’t until much later in the evening when he finally found him.

Wei Ying was sitting against the wall beside the moon gate that Lan Zhan had originally entered through. His dark robes had blended into the deep green foliage around the gate, but he rested against the wall with his eyes closed. He looked… sad.

Lan Zhan didn’t know what was troubling his dragon, but he wanted so badly to take away whatever pain he was feeling. “Wei Ying…” His voice was full of relief upon seeing him. “I have been searching for you, what are you doing over here?”

Slowly, the dragon opened his eyes, letting the silver orbs rest on the human for a moment before he stood. “I was waiting for you.”

“Waiting for me? Here?”

“Yes.” He closed the distance between them, stopping a mere few inches from the human. “Lan Zhan,” He asked gently. “Do you know how long you’ve been here?”

“I… do not.” He shook his head.

“Almost a year now.” Wei Ying said lightly, and Lan Zhan was struck by the realization.

“Has it really been that long?”

“...It has.” He nodded before carefully taking Lan Zhan’s hand and pressing something small and cool into his palm.

“This is for you, Lan Zhan.” His gaze remained on Lan Zhan’s, but it wasn’t hard to hear the way his voice echoed with something that the human hadn’t heard from him in some time.

He was sad.

He was lonely.

Wei Ying pulled away from Lan Zhan and stepped around him,walking back towards the cabin before he paused and turned back to face the human.

Lan Zhan whirled around to face his dragon, confusion in his gaze before he looked down at what was given to him.

In the palm of his hand was a small jade token with an elaborate carving of a dragon. He closed his fist around the cool stone and looked back at Wei Ying, clearly confused. “What is this for?”

“That token will allow you to pass through the gate behind you. The one you came through. Unlike the gate in the forest, no one can pass through it once they enter my realm. Unless they have that jade token.” He gestured lightly to his hand. “You can return home, Lan Zhan.”

“Return… home…?”

“Yes. You can see your family. You can tell them I do not require nor want any more sacrifices.” He gave him a smile, but it was not the smile he had come to love. It was small and full of sorrow. “I know your family will be excited to see you. You should go. I believe it is early morning on the other side of the gate.” He urged gently before turning, his body shifting into his long, serpent like form before he took off towards the sky, not giving Lan Zhan a chance to ask any further questions.

For a moment, all Lan Zhan could do was stand there. He watched as his dragon flew off, weaving slowly through the air. His golden gaze landed on the token once more before he frowned. Why was Wei Ying so sad? 

He shook his head and hurried through the gate. He had a lot he needed to do.

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

Lan Zhan’s return to the village was… unexpected. The confusion and surprise that etched itself into everyone’s expressions was somewhat comical.

“You’re alive!”

“The beast didn’t eat you?”

“Have you slain the creature?!”

“Was he dissatisfied with our pick?”

“What sort of hell will he unleash upon us?!”

The accusations and slander itched at Lan Zhan’s nerves, irritating him more than he had ever felt before. How dare they think that Wei Ying would harm anyone! “He is no beast.” He said flatly. “He has no intention of harming anyone here. But he does not want any more sacrifice.”

“What?”

“He does not want you sending any more of your family to him to appease him. If you want to appease him, send him food or wine. But he said he does not even need those. So please,

no more sending your family to him.”

Confusion swept over the crowd, but the people were quickly ushered aside as two figures hurried forward.

“Wangji!”

“Did!!”

Lan Zhan’s features relaxed and he stepped forward to meet his uncle and his brother, hugging them both tightly as he had the day he left.

Lan Qiren hurriedly ushered his nephew back home, setting him down with tea. “You’re home.. Oh thank the heavens.”

“Wanji, we have missed you so much, we thought… We thought we would never see you again.”

“Mn. I have missed you both as well.” He nodded lightly. “But, I am not here for long.”

“...What?”

“I came to visit, and to get some things, but I need to return to Wei Ying.”

“Wei Ying?”

“Yes… Wuxian the dragon.”

“... You are returning to him?”

“Yes. He has been upset the past few days, and I am not certain why, so I wish to bring some things to him.”

“Wangji, but… you’re… you’ve been returned to us, why would you go back to him?” Lan Qiren frowned, not understanding what his nephew was thinking.

Yet, Xichen seemed to understand. “...Will you return to visit again?”

“Mn. I believe so. Wei Ying did not explain how my token works fully, but I do not think it is a one time use. So I will try to visit once a month moving forward.”

Xichen nodded and gently squeezed his brother’s shoulder. “I am happy for you, didi. You seem happy.”

“I am. Wei Ying makes me very happy.”

Qiren glanced between the brothers, still unsure, but the relief that his nephew was alive and well sated him for now, as well as the promise of future visits.

For the night, Lan Zhan stayed with his family, telling them all about Wei Ying. Then in the morning, he gathered some supplies and made his way back up the mountain.

Stepping through the moon gate this time was as surreal as the first time he had done it. The dark evening sky shifted to the clear blue of early day and the luscious field welcomed him with a gentle breeze.

His gaze scanned the field until he found the large, coiled figure he was searching for. Sound asleep in the sun just as he had been the first time he arrived. How nostalgic.

He heard the gentle chimes from behind him, signifying someone had entered the realm, but the dragon did not stir.

Deciding he should let him sleep, Lan Zhan made his way to their cabin and set his belongings down before he began to prepare Wei Ying’s meal for when he awoke.

When his dragon did not come in by the time the food was done, Lan Zhan went to fetch him, stopping just a few feet in front of him, still sound asleep.

The human took a moment to admire his dragon. His large, imposing form that looked so small when curled up like this, yet still larger than a house. His glittering scales, and magnificent mane. He really was stunning in all forms.

Carefully, he stepped forward and pressed his hand to Wei Ying’s snout. “Wei Ying, it is time to wake up.”

The dragon stirred lightly, shifting in his sleep until his eyes opened slowly, pupils dilating slightly as his vision came into focus.

“Lan Zhan?”

“Mn. It is time to wake, sleepy head.”

“You… came back?”

“Of course. I only went to see my uncle and brother. I also brought a few things for you, but  I can tell you about my visit later, come, it is time to eat.” His hand stroked gently over the creature’s large snout.

For a moment, the dragon was silent, simply watching him before he pressed forward lightly, pressing his snout against the human, nuzzling him gently before he shifted back, his arms wrapping around Lan Zhan tightly.

“...Wei Ying?” He frowned, carefully wrapping his arms around his dragon’s human form, holding him close.

“You came back.” He said much softer this time. Lan Zhan finally understood.

Oh.

That was why he had been upset. He expected Lan Zhan to leave and never return.

He gave him a precious token to make the decision for himself. To decide if he wanted to leave. Wei Ying thought he would be alone again.

His hold tightened around Wei Ying and he nuzzled his face into that soft, black hair of his. “Mn. Will always return to Wei Ying.”

He heard the dragon’s breath hitch before he pulled back slightly, looking at Lan Zhan cautiously, his gaze searching for something.

Thankfully, this time, Lan Zhan understood, and without a word, he closed the gap between them, pulling the dragon into a soft, loving kiss.

Their first of many to come.

From now on, dragon nor human would ever be alone again.

#wangxian #lan wangji #wei wuxian #dragon!xian #Wangxian #MuseyWrites

[pokemonveterinarian]

Pelipper mail!

[A large box delivered by a rather large Pelipper! The Pelipper has a ankle tag that has an id number and the name "Shower".

The box is full of carefully packed snacks native to Hoenn Lava cookie bites, Mt. Chimmey puffs (//Think spicy cheetos), little mochi cakes, and... two boxes of pokeblocks...? Oh! One of them is for people! Seems to be a novelty snack.

There is also a little refrigerated box with a strawberry cheesecake and light chocolate drizzle.

And finally... a rather crappy looking scarf, it's functional, but it's clear whoever made it is not good at knitting. The colors are a mish mash of blue, purple, and red. There's a note.]

"Hello son (son!!), I hope nothing got crushed or squished on its way to you and I hope that you feel better soon. Sorry for the short note... I'm not the greatest at emotions, it's more Archie's thing. -Maxie"

[The Pelipper flies off once she sees that everything arrived safely, flying into the sky before disappearing, seemingly into thin air.]

//I hope I typed everything right, I'm doing this on my phone ^^;

[Saint smiles, holding back tears, just reading the note over and over.]

Thank you, dads!! I greatly appreciate it!!!

[Attached is a photo of Saint, happy crying, wearing the scarf.]

#JDNGNGNS #KDKHKUPP #AFFECTION??? #FOR LIL OL ME??? #UNHEARD OF #pokemon irl #pkmn irl #pokeblogging #rotomblr #pokemon #rotumblr #irl pokemon #pokeblr

[s-creations]

The King Arrives - Chapter 1

(A few days after 'Plant Care' from 'Hues' Collection)

Everything felt off.

Everyone was on edge.

Something was wrong.

They don't have long to fix it.

Fandom: Super Mario & Related Fandoms Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Relationships: Luigi & Mario & Wario (Nintendo) Warnings/Additional Tags: Violence, there is cursing!, fighting ghosts, separation, illusions, here we go!, this is gonna get crazy!

“Luigi!”

Feet hitting heavy against the stone floor, Mario struggled to reach the large door at the end of the hallway. One he’d been running down for what felt like hours. Every step seemed to put his goal further away. Knowing if he could just grab that handle, the nightmare would be over. But the hallway just continued to grow. To taunt him. 

Suddenly, the door that had been so far was now right in front of him. Mario unwillingly slammed his full body into it and opened them. Stumbling to the ground on the other side, feeling the air being knocked out from his lungs.

“What a wonderful entrance by the great hero.” A deep voice mockingly growled out.

Head snapped up, Mario finding Bowser towering over him. Eyes glowing a deep purple as the Koopa glared down at the human. Form seeming silhouette from the spotlight shining down from nowhere on the large Koopa.

Mario was up on his feet the next second. Ignoring how they suddenly felt like lead as he raised his fists, ready to fight. “Where is he, where’s Luigi! I know you have him!”

“Luigi…Luigi… Oh, you mean snively little Greenie? Your pathetic brother, how could I forget. Don’t you worry, I’ve been a wonderful host. See for yourself.”

Another spot light suddenly appeared. Showing a suspended cage, a clearly black and blue beaten Luigi lying limp inside. Something red slowly dripping from inside. Dull eyes landing on the sickened hero. “M…Mario?”

“Luigi! What did you do to him!”

Bowser laughed, “Your brother made for a wonderful punching bag. And now that you’re here, I can end his painful, pitiful existence.”

Mario felt the area shift. A lava pool now shown resting right below where Luigi’s prison hangs. Even though the hero could have sworn it wasn’t there before. But he wasn’t given time to be confused over this when the cage started to be lowered towards the molten liquid.

Mario tried to move forward, to get to his brother, when he felt numerous hands grab onto him. A dark sludge flooded over Mario’s lower half, slowly climbing its way up. The hero desperately tried to push it away, which resulted in right arm being trapped next. A bubble expanded from the sludge until it turned into a melting face of their old boss, Spike. Purple eyes glowing from behind the heavy shades with a fanged smile directed towards Mario. 

“Looks like you’re finally getting rid of that worthless brothers of yours! I knew you’d get tired of having to carry him around.”

The face shifted. Molding and changing to female features, purple eyes digging into the trapped human, face seeming to droop. “How could you let my baby boy die like this? Do you not care? Are you that selfish? What a terrible son you are…”

The face shifted once more, this time to another male. One that held features shared with Mario. The furrowed brow more pronounced, deep hatred seeming to be pouring out. “You’re such a disappointment. You really couldn’t keep your promise, could you. You’re to blame, for all of this. I hope you're happy.”

The face dropped back into the growing sludge. Mario now trapped from his shoulders down, further hands forming to keep his facing forward. Unable to look away as the cage was lowered closer to the awaiting lava.

“This is your fault. Now you get to watch.”

“No, please,” Mario choked out. Unable to move anything, unable to break free. “Please, let me go! I can fix this, I can keep him safe!”

“You can’t fix anything. You’re too late… You’ll both meet your end soon enough.”

The cage finally made contact with the lava, which instantly erupts into flames. Luigi seemed uncaring as he was being burned alive. Hollowed eyes with a purple glow focused solemnly onto Mario. “Why can’t you keep me safe? Why can’t you do anything right?”

“Luigi!” 

The name was ripped from his throat as Mario sat up. Eyes snapping open as he woke. Heart hammering, sheets held tightly in hand and being torn apart. Right arm burning furiously. 

Mario had barely collected himself when his bedroom door was flung open. A frantic Luigi rushed in. No words were exchanged as Mario detangled himself from the bed and pulled his brother close. Luigi gave no noise of complaint as he was desperately clung to. Both eventually sink to the floor, leaning against the side of the bed.

“...This is getting out of hand.” Luigi whispered out. Feeling Mario nod in agreement. “You need to tell someone about this…besides me.”

“Who?” Mario choked out.

“I-I don’t know… H-How about we go see Peach today, yeah? Maybe she’ll know someone. Or even Wario. W-Wario might be able to help, I f-feel like he knows a lot of people… I think we just n-need to get out of the house today.”

“...Maybe…”

Luigi’s frown softened but didn’t push. The brother’s shifting to a slightly more comfortable position. Still clinging to each other.

“This is, what…the third time this week?” Mario laughed weakly.

Luigi nodded slowly. “Going on for about two… How’s your arm? Is it burning again?”

“Yeah.”

“...Do you want to try and go back to sleep?”

“No, absolutely not. How about we get some breakfast instead, yeah?”

Luigi didn’t argue as his brother pulled away, standing on shaky legs. Soon following to make sure Mario stayed somewhat upright. “H-How about I make breakfast?”

“I can do it,” Mario weakly waved his hand, “Don’t worry.”

“B-But-”

“Seriously Luigi. Let me take care of it. It’ll let me…focus on something.”

“...Okay.” Luigi took a seat at the small kitchen table. Pressing his hands together, trying not to worry. Tense and ready to jump up in case Mario showed to be faltering.

But the other brother pushed through and was soon handing over a plate to Luigi.

They were only a few bites in before Luigi asked, “Do you remember what the dreams are about? I haven’t heard you talk about them before.”

Mario wasn’t able to hide his twitch. But he swallowed his bite hard before flashing a weak smile, answering with, “No… No, not really…”

“...You keep calling my name.”

“I know, but I honestly don’t remember them. It’s just a…a really bad feeling.”

Luigi didn’t miss the way Mario reached up to rub his right arm. Where the bite scars were.

“Mario-”

“Visiting Peach sounds like a good idea,” Mario quickly interrupted, “We haven’t seen her in a while. We’ve been cooped up inside for too long. How about we clean up and go over?”

“Oh…y-yeah, sure.” Luigi didn’t push it, not wanting to stress Mario out further from all of this. So, he just smiled back before finishing up his food. 

Going to the Mushroom Kingdom didn’t get the outcome the brothers had been hoping for. Not only did Mario seem to tense further upon leaving the Warp Pipe. Eyes shifting around nervously while keeping a tight grip on Luigi’s hand. But the Toads in the castle town were scuttling around fearfully. No one was talking. No one was looking up. Even with the sun shining down, it felt unnaturally cold.

The castle wasn’t much better. Not only just as quiet and cold, but there was also a heavy sense of dread hanging in the air. Guards were at full attention, eyes frantically darting around as if waiting for something to happen. Peach was sitting on her throne, hands clasped tightly in her lap, appearing to be staring at nothing. Toadsworth pacing before her, muttering something under his breath. Wario was there as well, arms crossed, glaring at the floor, his foot tapping continuously as he leaned against the throne.

“Um, good morning.” Luigi called out. His voice seemed to echo in the quiet chamber. The younger brother twitched nervously when all eyes landed on them. 

Peach gave a small, relaxed sigh upon seeing the brothers. She rose from her throne and descended the stairs quickly. Mario was a little startled when she placed a kiss on his forehead before looking towards Luigi. “Good morning you two, I’m…so happy to see you. What can I help you with today?”

“W-We just dropped by to visit. Felt like we were due to just…hang out. Talk about random things. You know, fun stuff.” Luigi answered. Trying not to look over at Mario, who was still looking around fearfully, his grip on Luigi’s hand tight. 

“Oh, that sounds like a wonderful idea. What did you have in mind-”

The sound of shattering glass from the nearby hallway caused the heavy tension in the air to finally snap.

The soldiers standing around immediately screamed and started to run around. Weapons carelessly tossed away as they panicked. Fear clearly overruling their logical thinking. 

Toadsworth started screaming out, “Invader! Intruder! Protect the princess!” while clinging to Peach’s dress. Luigi surprised the old Toad could move fast enough to appear next to the princess in the blink of an eye, considering he was up by the throne the second before.

Peach and Wario both tensed where they stood, eyes wide, unable to move. 

Mario went on full defense mode. Pulling Luigi behind him, turning frantically, looking for said possible attackers. Not prepared for the sudden movement, Luigi stumbled. Reaching out to grab onto his brother’s shoulder with his free hand. His other still clenched tightly in Mario’s hold.

“Mario-”

“Stay behind me, Luigi.”

“Mario stop-”

“I’ll keep you safe, just stay with me.” Mario yelped when his hand got a sudden shock. Turning to ask fearfully if Luigi’s powers were acting up. Only to feel nauseous with fear as he watched Luigi running away from him. “Luigi, stop!”

Luigi, careful to dodge around the still rushing around Toads, headed straight for one of the side halls where he’d heard the sound coming from. Opening the double doors and looking the area over, only to find a broken mirror lying on the floor. Glass littering the ground with a heavy frame, still intact, lying nearby. 

Luigi had barely stepped into the hallway when Mario pulled him back.

“What are you doing? Why would you run off like that?” Mario demanded. Eyes wide, gripping onto Luigi’s arm.

“M-Mario, I’m fine. Something just fell off the wall.” Luigi attempted to comfort. Holding back a wince at how tight his brother was grabbing onto him. 

Only for Toadsworth to come barreling through. Luigi only kept upright by Mario’s death grip.

“This is terrible! Horrendous!” the elder Toad wailed, “Oh, why would it be ma’am’s favorite heirloom! She’s showing her displeasure from beyond the grave! Please forgive this old, foolish Toad!”

The soldiers’ screams of panic were now directed towards trying to flee from an unseen attacker. Peach had slowly lowered herself to the floor, eyes still wide as she stared at the broken mirror. Wario was caught between the two groups, hands up with clear internal struggle. Go to the brothers or check on Peach. 

Luigi was caught in a panic storm, confused as he attempted to figure out what was happening. Why was everyone acting like the world was ending? Why did it seem like they were all going through their biggest fears? What was going on?

Luigi tried to pull away, only to wince when Mario held him in place. “Mario, l-let go.”

“Why?” Mario asked frantically, “W-Why are you trying to leave me?”

“What- I’m not! I just want to-”

“A-Are you angry with me? W-What did I do wrong?”

“Mario, I’m not mad, but we need to-”

“I’m sorry! I don’t know what I did, but I’m sorry!”

Luigi was practically being dragged down. Doing his best to keep Mario from just collapsing onto the ground. The older brother pressed his forehead into Luigi’s chest. Desperately chanting ‘I’m sorry!’ as he practically clung to Luigi. The younger brother’s nerves were already frayed as is. But this entire situation was making everything so much worse.

Finally reaching his wits end, Luigi bellowed out, “Enough!”

That called the hall to fall quiet. All eyes on Luigi. Everyone completely still. Tense.

Luigi gently pulled away from Mario’s hold, pushing down the older brother’s hands as Mario attempted to pull him back. The younger brother stepped further away before addressing everyone. 

“Something’s clearly happening here. I know you can feel it, I certainly can. Panicking like this isn’t going to help. You’re either going into a frenzy or doing nothing if you…you let yourself fall that far.” Moving slowly so as to not cause everyone to panic again, Luigi inspected the damage. “The mirror just fell out of the frame. The glass is gone, but the frame looks fine. You can replace that part easily.”

Everyone blinked. Everyone relaxed. Everyone looked…confused.

“What…was that?” Peach whispered nervously. Wario merely shook his head in disbelief over what he just experienced. 

Toadsworth and the soldiers blinked as if coming out of some daze. Mario’s eyes flitted around, clearly trying to make sense of the weird situation before looking back to Luigi. Who was propping the golden frame up against the wall. 

“We just need to clean up t-the glass so no one cuts themselves,” Luigi continues calmly, “C-Can someone go get some brooms for us?”

A few Toads jumped into action. Luigi takes this time to check on Mario. “Bro…are you okay?”

Mario didn’t move. “...I don’t know… I just… I felt scared. Over a mirror falling off the wall. What’s wrong with me?”

“Hey, it’s o-okay. I t-think everyone’s a little on edge right now with…w-whatever is happening. W-Why don’t you just go stand w-with Wario and Peach? I’ll g-get this cleaned up.”

Luigi pulled away again before Mario could argue. Unable to move right away, watching as the Toads returned with the required items, the glass started to be picked up. Noticing a particularly large piece resting by his own foot. Mario deciding that, at the very least, he could help get rid of this-

The glass faced him, Mario given an unfamiliar reflection. He still saw himself. Pale and looking fearful. But behind him wasn’t shown properly. 

It was completely dark. The castle seemed to have been completely swallowed by the shadows. Terrifyingly familiar eyes of shining yet soulless deep purple eyes were staring from the darkness. 

Right at him. 

“Found you.”

Mario immediately dropped the piece. Heart hammering as his hands shook. No one seemed to be aware of the hero’s current state of panic. Either cleaning or lost to their own worries.

Picking up the glass shared once more revealed nothing. The world reflecting back as it should.

Was he going insane?

Was everyone?

Wario barely looked up as Mario joined him and Peach. “Hey…”

“I need you to keep an eye on Luigi, okay?” Mario’s request was firm.

“What?”

“I just…I have a bad feeling about today. I need to know someone is going to be with him…please.”

Wario couldn’t argue back. He couldn’t give encouraging words, that it was all going to be fine. That there was nothing to worry about. Except that Wario had started  that day feeling as if the world was going to fall apart. Waking to an empty house really didn’t help his state of mind. He’d gone to Peach in hopes to take his mind off everything. But the heavy feeling only seemed to increase the closer he got and now…

“Yeah…” Wario whispered out eventually, “Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thank you.”

The afternoon seemed to drag on. Everyone too far on edge to do anything. All weirdly just content to sit together and just…wait. Luigi felt like an outsider, watching with silent worry as everyone seemed to fall further and further into this unseen panic. Unsure of what he’d be able to do to help everyone out of the situation. Content to meet Mario’s silently requested for Luigi to stay as close as possible. The older brother gripped onto Luigi’s arm with both of his hands.

It was as evening was drawing closer, the sun seen dropping over the horizon, that everyone was broken from their stupor. First by a loud engine that cut off right outside of the castle front doors. Heads lifting up at the sound of a dog barking and someone calling out,

“No time to chat, youngsters! Don’t get up. I’m assuming the throne room is this way. Very busy, mustn't dawdle!”

The doors were thrown open, an elderly man wearing a lab and carrying a rather large metal box came rushing in. Swirled glasses slightly askew with a collected wisp of gray hair atop his head bobbing side to side as he moved. Either unaware or uncaring of the worried eyes that followed him. 

Arriving at the foot of the throne, he dropped the case and offered a low bow. Panting out, “Sorry for intruding. But there is a situation currently occurring that requires my attention.”

There was a beat of silence before Peach asked, “Who are you?”

“Ah, pardon me, that is very rude, isn’t it? I am Professor Elvin Gadd, experts on ghosts and everything paranormal! I also go by E. Gadd or professor, if either of those names suit your fancy. I certainly know I’m a fan.”

Luigi sat up further, eyes wide.

“I see,” said Peach, “and what can I help you with?”

“Well, it’s truly what I’m here to help you with. My reason for arriving is related to the current state you find your kingdom in. I can tell you’re all in a bit of a ‘downer mood’, if you will. Honestly the feeling is pretty typical for this kind of situation. The strangeness relates more to the overall size of the situation. I would have arrived earlier, but I’d only just felt prepared enough to tackle all of this. Quite a stressful few weeks I’ve had.”

“I’m sorry. What situation?”

“My dear, your castle is currently overrun with guests of the paranormal variety.”

“Pardon?”

“Ghosts, my dear, your castle has a large number of ghosts here.”

“I knew it!” Toadsworth suddenly called out, “I knew the late King and Queen had returned to haunt me! Oh woe, oh all the woes, oh all the woes that-”

“Criminy! Would you please put a cork in it!” E. Gadd huffed, “Yelling as such will help in no way. But if it placates you to know, no past living spirits currently haunt these halls. Just a dangerous amount of Ecto-Ghosts…oh, and Boos. Nasty number of Boos. Quite alarming, actually, if you stop to think about it. Or, if I stop to think about it. I’m the only one who’s truly aware of that, aren’t I?”

With how easy the professor was saying all of this, it seemed that the residence should be relaxing over what they were hearing. Which, in fact, did not occur. Mario and Luigi’s grip on each other increased. Wario reaches down to grab onto Mario’s shoulder, Peach placing her own hand on the other.

“Boos…are here?” Mario voiced weakly.

“Very much so! A disturbing amount. It’s common to see Boos in small groups. But the amount currently resigned here…well, it’s nothing short of an army. Quite fascinating if I’m being honest. Couple that with the large number of Ecto-Ghosts seemingly working together with the Boos and we’ve reached a phenomenon that I didn’t think was possible. Very fascinating.”

“I would strongly like to disagree with that,” Wario growled, “Are you telling me that we’re all feeling like shit because of ghosts? That we have a literal army of unseen enemies right on top of us. And you find all of that interesting?”

“Pardon me, youngster, but I said ‘fascinating’, not ‘interesting’. If you’re going to be angry with me, at least have it be for the right reason.”

“You’re enjoying this!”

“Oh absolutely not,” E. Gadd frowned, “I can be eager, curious even, but I can also recognize the danger we’re currently in. I’m not psychotic, I’m here to help!”

“Going over the data points I’ve been able to collect, even with how few those points are, I was able to follow this group to this kingdom. Namely, your castle. This is dangerous for a number of reasons. But first, I need to ask if anyone could know of a possible reason for them arriving here?”

“A-Aren’t Boos t-territorial?”

Gadd looked up hearing a small voice. Swirled glasses directed to Luigi. “Yes, they are, very much so. But I doubt Boos would suddenly want to try and rule a kingdom.”

“W-Well, what if it’s not a place that they want?” Luigi voiced, “What…W-What if it was…”

“A person.” Mario meekly finished. Luigi pulled him closer. 

“A person?” E. Gadd parroted, pondering for a bit. “I suppose…it could be possible. I’ve not heard of something like that happening. But all of this is new. Forgive me, but I can’t fully speak for the truthfulness of that statement. However, the point I’m trying to make here is that I have the tools that can help with this situation!”

“Now, where did I put that blasted thing? I could have sworn I put it in my- Oh! You found it, Polterpup, good doggie!”

Luigi was a little confused as to why the professor was looking at him once more. Until a chill to the right called his attention to another’s presence. Barely holding back a yelp finding a translucent ghost dog sitting next to him. Wide, clear eyes fixated on Luigi with a small remote resting in their mouth. 

A sharp whistle called Luigi’s and the ghost pup’s attention back towards E. Gadd. “Come along now pup. We need to get to work. You can make friends later.”

The ghost dog wagged their tail as they turned away, trotting over to the professor. Dropping the remote into the professor’s outstretched hand. “Thank you. Now, let’s see…”

A button pushed and the case resting at E. Gadd’s feet suddenly sprang to life. The lid opened, the cas expanding out further until it became a long table that bolted itself into the ground. Numerous tools and a large computer appeared on top the next second. No one was able to tell where those items had suddenly come from.

“What…is all of this?” Peach asked.

“It’ll take too long to explain everything. But just know that all of them are needed to help us out of this situation. Pretty standard tools.”

“This…is standard?” Wario asked, brow raised. 

“Of course!”

Peach took over again. “What is this going to help with?”

“Many things. But the two main points! Locate and ensnare/contain. This won’t be over until we can find the true source of all this imbalance. Now-”

A heavy round of three hard knocks sounded. All turning to the set of double doors that lead to the side hallway, from where the sound came from. There was a heavy pause…

Until a Toad cheerfully said, “I’ll get it!”

The rest were too slow to either warn them or to grab said Toad before they opened it up.

The doors didn’t reveal the familiar decorated hallway. But a wall of swirling purple and black lights was instead being presented before them. There was a brief collective thought of ‘Huh, that’s not right.’ before the entire hall started to tilt. Those closest and unable to grab onto anything disappeared into the light first. Lost to the void with their screams echoing from within. 

Those remaining were frantically clinging to what they’d been able to grab, trying not to fall in as well. Calling out what they were supposed to do when the room started to shake. As if the room was intentionally trying to get everyone to fall in. 

Luigi’s eyes wide in panic at the bright light seeming to be directly below his feet. Heart hammering as the screams pounded against his ears. The craziness of everything seemed to fall away hearing a pained cry call out. The younger brother looked up to see that Mario had lost the grip on his right hand and was slowly slipping from his left. 

“Mario!”

“I can’t-”

There was a fearful gasp as Mario’s grip finally failed. Luigi’s attempt to grab him was met with empty air, his brother falling further away. 

“Luigi, don’t!” Wario called out, already knowing what the younger brother was planning.

He didn’t listen. 

He released his hold. Dropping quickly to grab onto Mario’s hands, both falling into the light.

Whatever was on the other side was not what either brother expected. It seemed as if the entire castle had been broken into pieces. Each room or hallway sections were torn away from everything else. All floating in a void of black and purple clouds with bright flashes of purple lighting expelling once in a while. 

“What’s happening!” Luigi called out as they free falled. 

“I don’t know!” was Mario’s reply, “Oh geez, hold on tight Luigi!”

Their stomach churned as they fell through another set of double doors and into a long hallway that had been tilted on its side. Now flying passed the walls  filled with paintings of the royal's past. Except the paintings didn’t remain still. As soon as the brothers entered, the oil recreations reached out from their decorated frames. Wailing loudly from stretched mouths, skin melting and bubbling, eyes glowing purple as they reached out towards the falling brothers.

Both screaming in absolute fear as they fell, pressing as close to each other as possible to avoid the dripping hands that swiped at them.. 

They were out of the hallway soon, falling back into the swirling void with the castle still in pieces. Soon surrounded by a number of doors. Both cast confused glances at each other before the doors were suddenly slammed open. Translucent creatures starting to pour out from them. Different colors, different sizes, all with soulless white eyes, shrieking and cackling as they swirled around the brothers.

“What are those things!” Mario called out.

“E-Ecto-Ghosts! T-There are so many!” Luigi fearfully answered. 

Before they could fully take in what they were seeing, the brothers were dropped down into another hallway. This one without another set of doors at the opposite end. Meaning they were soon slamming, rather hard, into the back brick wall. Not able to orient themselves before the hall shifts to be upright. The brothers let out another round of painful groans as they laid on the plush carpet. 

“M…Mario?” Luigi called up weakly, unable to move, even knowing what danger they were in. He didn’t get a reply. 

Luigi twitched as something moved from under his hand. Looking up to see Mario being pulled away from him. Snapped to attention, Luigi quickly reached out to grab onto his brother’s wrist. 

Mario still kept moving.

Luigi grabbed onto the other wrist, getting onto his feet quickly to dig them into place. Panic grew as he watched as Mario was easily lifted off the ground. 

“Mario!”

Luigi felt shock hit him once more as numerous Ecto-Ghost seemed to materialize. All holding onto Mario, glaring at the fearful younger brother. 

That didn’t deter Luigi, who started to pull back harder, “L-Let him go! Mario, wake up!”

He let out a yelp as he was suddenly jerked forward. Scrambling to get his feet into an immovable stance. The situation became further dire, feeling chilled hands grab onto his shoulders and upper arms. More Ecto-Ghosts now pulling at Luigi to break the contact.

“S-Stop!” Luigi practically begged, “P-Please stop! W-What do you want with him!”

He received no reply. Instead harsh laughter followed. 

“...W-Weegie…”

Luigi felt his heart leap in joy. Even if Mario’s eyes were clearly unfocused and dull, he was awake. “Mario! H-Hold on, I’ll get you out, just-”

“Weegie, y-you need to let g-go…”

“What? No! No, I’m not going to-”

“Let go… Let go and find Wario…”

“Mario, please-”

“I need…I need to know you’re safe…” Mario offered the best smile he could give, “Please…I’ll be okay…”

“I…I can’t…” Luigi felt his grip slip.

“I’ll be okay… But you need to let go…”

Before Luigi could protest further, the ghosts took advantage of the human being distracted and gave one final pull. Breaking the brother’s connection. Luigi was only able to watch as Mario was phased through the wall. 

“Mario!”

His head was slammed into the floor.

.

.

.

Luigi groaned weakly. Something slimy and cold traveling across his cheek. The chill woke him up quickly.

“Ugh, wha’? What happened?”

He was still in the hallway. The area dark and eerie, the silence heavy after the ruckus he’d just gone through. Luigi hears cold laughter sounding nearby, as if just from the other rooms. His attention was pulled to Polterpup when they let out a small bark. The ghost dog panting happily.

“P-Puppy? What are you doing here?”

Polterpup merely barked again.

“What is- Mario!” Luigi suddenly snapped back to reality. Stumbling to his feet and rushing to the same wall he’d seen Mario disappear through. Only to find a solid, unmoving wall.

Feeling desperate, Luigi turned back to Polterpup. “C-Can you find him? Do you know where Mario is?”

Another bark, Polterpup turning to the doors Luigi has fallen through before. Sitting before them and looking back at the human expectedly.

“Do you know? …Do you want me to follow you?” 

Polterpup whined softly. Front paws patted the floor as he waited. Unsure of what else he could do, Luigi followed.

He was surprised when the doors opened to a wide bedroom. Well decorated but not well lived in.

“A guest room?” Luigi voiced aloud, “What? What is this doing here?”

He continued to follow the spectral pup. The door that supposedly led to the guest bathroom revealed yet another hallway. One lined with numerous doors, more than Luigi thought would be possible. Polterpup seemed to know exactly where to go. Walking over to one of the many doors, which lead to one of the kitchens the castle held. 

“Did this all…become a maze?” Luigi asked nervously. After passing another guest room, the library, and dinning hall, Luigi was relieved to stumble back into the Great Hall. It seemed to be the only place to feel ‘normal’. Which Luigi slowly realized meant safety.

“Ah, Polterpup, there you are!” E. Gadd called out, “I was wondering where you ran off to.”

“Luigi!” The younger brother couldn’t help but jump at his name being shouted. Peach hugged him with Wario a few steps behind. 

“P-Princess?”

Peach pulled away, checking Luigi over. “Are you okay? What happened? Where’s Mario?”

“I…I lost him,” Luigi weakly admitted, “I-I had him… Then some Ecto-Ghosts appeared and… I lost Mario.”

Wario reached out to grip Luigi’s shoulder gently, “We’ll get him back.”

“Easier said than done youngster,” said the professor, “There’s a lot broken and not much time to fix all of it.”

“What do you mean?” Peach asked. 

“This room is the only stable room, thanks to my equipment. The rest of your castle, however, is severely corrupted. It appears we’re caught in a very heavy and disruptive illusion.”

Luigi nodded. “I-It’s a maze out there. I only found my way back because of Polterpup.”

“Who or what even is behind this has turned the palace into a trap…a cage.”

“Okay, so, how do we get out?” Wario asked. 

“We need to find the source of all this chaos, that needs to be our focus. It’s very powerful. Not only to cause this damage but to also maintain it. Which leads to our next problem. This is causing immense stress to our reality. If this is not fixed, we’re going to be torn apart.”

That causes an uneasy chill to fall over the room.

“...How long do we have?” Luigi asked.

“Until 6 am tomorrow morning.” E. Gadd answered.

“12 hours.” Peach breathed out.

“Shit.” Wario simply put. 

Time: 6:03pm Stability Lost: 12%

#mario #luigi #wario #princess peach #professor e. gadd #s-creations #fanfiction #yellow purple red green

[warcats-cat]

Midnight Sad

A/N: Hi friends! Short time, no see ;) I’m back with another Floof Fic for the incomparable @muppenthings ! This is actually something I used to do with my mom if I had a nightmare or couldn’t sleep; she would bring some tea upstairs and sit with me for a little bit. (I still had to go to school in the morning, which kind of sucked, but oh well.) 

Also, I have a confession to make. I love tea, but I secretly hate chamomile... I just have a lot of lavender teas now that I drink if I’m sad or sleepy. But chamomile is the one most people are familiar with, so that’s what I’ll use here, lol.

Ok, you guys know the drill! Let me know if I missed any tags, and I hope you enjoy your time!

Read on Ao3 Here!

-------

Soft rumbling of thunder surrounded the house, the patter of determined rain filling the rooms with light background noise. Roman had the lights dimmed in respect of the late hour and his rather odd roommates. 

Virgil was standing in the corner, his wings pulled up over him like a cocoon, and he’d solidified into stone. As clear a sign as any that he was sleeping, and it would take a lot more than thunder to wake him. The muppets were all snuggled up in the run he’d built, cuddling in a dark hide away, presumably also asleep. 

Roman just couldn’t fall asleep himself. 

The thunder and rain should have put him right under. It was the perfect level of background noise for a deep and sound snooze. His little garden friends were all safe inside, taking refuge from their tunnels that were beginning to flood from three days of nonstop rain. Roman had a whole two days off of work with nothing to do except relax. 

He just couldn't sleep.

Roman sat on the couch, setting a warm cup of tea on the table and staring into nothing. Lavender and chamomile for resting. And yet here he was, wide awake as the day. 

Roman spent the time wondering about his miniature roommates; the tiny creatures came and went as they pleased, and seemed largely unbothered by his presence. They even, in their own way, helped him tend the garden itself. 

The four were a daily presence now; the one he called Goldie especially. They spent a good ten minutes every morning on his windowsill, brushing their long tufts of fur clean. When Roman first met them, he could tell the little muppet had been struggling. He’d watched from a distance as the other three would pause what they were doing throughout the day to free their long-furred friend from burrs and leaves; and if Roman woke up early enough, he would find the three carefully picking at Goldie’s fur, attempting to groom out knots that had formed in the night. 

Initially, Roman had only bought one little brush on a whim, something recommended for particularly fluffy cats, and propped it up against the wall while setting out a few Saturday treats for the muppets. Goldie had gone crazy, brushing up against the firm bristles and purring like a toy motorboat. When Roman had tried to walk away, thus letting the brush fall from its position, the little thing had growled. He’d stood at the window for an hour, repositioning the brush occasionally for the miniature diva. 

He’d bought more brushes the next day, and built a self-brushing structure under the muppet’s careful guidance. 

The little purple one, Stormy, was also one to visit as often as possible; usually seeking out treats or ways to fight with Virgil. How he’d managed to find Roman’s wallet and then open it and take out money with his miniscule little paws, Roman would never know. But he’d certainly learned not to leave important things sitting around.

Stormy had quite a sweet tooth, and a penchant for making a mess. Roman found himself constantly trying to protect his tea from the little menace, and was waiting for the day he’d have to take down the butterfly feeders because the fluff-ball had figured out what was inside. 

There were two blue muppets, one a darker blue and one lighter. The darker blue he’d nicknamed Sherlock, because the little guy had a tendency to stick his nose in anything that piqued his curiosity. After the phone incident, Roman had taken to getting whatever puzzle toys he could find, trying to keep the little guy occupied. Sherlock clearly very much wanted the cellphone back, but Roman wasn’t about to allow that after the muppet had called his boss, and he definitely couldn’t afford to give the bug one of his own. 

The puzzle toys seemed to be working for now; a variety of both pet and baby toys were hidden away in the artist’s closet, and he would supply a new one when Sherlock got bored with the one he’d had. 

Thankfully, the curious ball of fluff didn’t seem to mind cycling through toys, as long as the puzzle was refreshed. And Virgil occasionally helped; setting out things for the muppet to find throughout the yard, leaving clues pointing towards new toys and treasures. Although Roman still needed to talk to the gargoyle about maybe not hiding things on the roof. 

The falling treat ball had really hurt when it smacked into his skull.

It was clear, whatever they were, that all four of the muppets were excellent climbers; constantly crawling up the brickwork of the house, wandering along tree branches and occasionally the edge of the fence. If they put their mind to it, they could probably scale the smooth walls inside the house. 

Roman was pulled from his thoughts by soft chirping, and he turned to find the littlest of the muppets, the light blue one he’d been calling Heart based on one of his markings. Heart had climbed the coffee table and was now huddled up in a ball and watching him. This muppet was usually cheery and friendly; the one most likely to wander close to Roman when he worked in the garden, playing with his tiny toy watering can or chasing a feather wand; but tonight, in the dimly lit living room, he almost looked scared. 

The little thing had his hackles raised like a cat’s, the pale blue fluff down his back puffed up. In the dark, he looked more like Stormy than himself. His eyes were glossier than usual, as well, and his ears pulled down in submission, instead of backwards in aggression. 

Well, technically Roman was guessing at a lot of it. He’d learned a lot of their expressions and their body language, but there was still a bit of a learning curve involved.

Roman wondered then, what must he look like in the low light, combined by the flashing and noise of the storm. He carefully set down his teacup, and laid his hand palm up, halfway between them, trying to keep slow for the little guy. 

“Hey, muppet.” he greeted softly, “It’s just me. See?” He wiggled his fingers a little as Heart came closer; the little creature immediately nuzzled against his hand and purred once close enough. Roman noticed, though, that the sound was off; there were interruptions like hiccups, and his ears were still pulled down. 

Roman carefully flipped his hand over, and Heart crawled right into the little tunnel shape he created. Roman could feel tiny heartbeats and a slight shivering. He ran his thumb over the creature’s head, which caused Heart to lean into the touch. 

“What’s wrong, little buddy?” Roman asked softly, continuing to pet his tiny friend. “Is it the storm?”

Heart stopped for a minute to look up and tilt his head in question, before shaking it.

No. Not the thunder then.

Roman sighed, giving the muppet a slightly rueful smile as he went back to stroking Heart’s ears. 

“Just sad, then? Can’t sleep?” he asked.

Heart squeaked sadly, and the hiccup noise returned; probably their form of crying. They sat like that for a while, with muppet resolutely staying in the curl of his hand, and Roman carefully stroking the unmoving little fluffball. 

After a while, he looked down at his tea and sighed again. 

“Yeah. Me too.” he said softly. “Sometimes I guess, you’re just sad.” He looked back to Heart, who churred in response and bumped his little head against the underside of Roman’s fingers. It was sweet; thinking that this little creature from the garden was sad and still wanted to comfort him too. He smiled softly, and carefully removed his hand, much to Heart’s disappointment.

“Sorry, one second. Let me get something.” he said softly, and the creature seemed to understand. Heart curled up next to the loop of the warm teacup to watch as Roman moved to the kitchen. 

He’d found these neat little teacups at the store a few weeks ago; shallow Asian-style dishes that had painted koi fish in them. It was low and shallow enough that Roman had thought it would work for Stormy’s treat on Saturdays, and had worked like a charm for the grumpy (and messy) little nugget. 

His tea was cooled enough, so he set the dish next to Heart and very carefully poured some from his own cup. He dribbled a little on the table, oh well, and watched as the muppet tilted his head questioningly. 

“It’s chamomile and lavender. It’s supposed to help you sleep. But it’s also just nice.” he answered softly. Heart sniffed the liquid before licking up a few drops, watching again as Roman took a sip of his own tea. “My mom used to do this when me and Remus were kids.” he said, spoken more into the distance than actually directed to Heart, but the muppet knew what he meant. Probably…

“She called it the Midnight Sad. You needed something warm and to have some good company with you to drive them away. So she made something warm; usually tea, although every once in a while we got hot chocolate. And we just kind of sat together.” he looked down at Heart, who was now watching him much more intently. He smiled and ran his fingertips over the creature again; this time, when he nudged his face into Roman’s hand, there were no hiccups. 

“It’s a lot easier to be sad when you're alone, isn’t it?” he asked, and Heart made a low, almost grumbly chirr, seeming to sniffle a little. The little creature took another taste of his own tea, but his eyes watched Roman over the dish as much as possible. 

“It’s ok,” Roman whispered, “we’ll be ok.” Heart offered him a trill at that, and Roman decided to just watch him for a while. He set his tea aside once again, and set his chin on his arms. 

He hadn’t realized he’d begun to drift off until something soft nosed at his jaw, and he tilted a little to the side to see Heart nuzzling his tiny face into Roman’s cheek, purring lowly. Roman couldn’t help it, he broke into a greater smile than before. When the little guy moved back, at the gardener’s own movement, he just smiled, offering a soft, “Thanks” to the creature.

In the morning, his back would hurt like actual hell from sleeping seated on the floor and leaning on the coffee table. Remus, coming to try and convince his twin to go to some weird art exhibition his friend was putting on, would take at least three up close pictures of Roman drooling on said table, which would act as blackmail for weeks. The other muppets, especially Stormy, would kick up a very noisy fuss that their fourth wasn’t tucked safely in their den. (And then, Stormy would kick up even more of a fuss that Heart had gotten tea and he hadn’t, and Roman would find him swimming in the human-sized cup of now very cold tea with his little butt up in the air like a fluffy purple heathen!) 

But that could all be handled later. They would both be fine.

-----

This has a Part Two now! 

#warcats writes #muppen floof au #floof au #sanders sides au #ts Roman #ts Patton #sanders sides fanfic #i love these little fluffballs #Theyre very relaxing to write #fluff #fluff without plot #tw thunderstorms

[celestial-mean-girls]

Hiya! I was scrolling through the Moondrop tag when I saw your post about lining/coloring your sketches with credit. I’ve been in a bit of art block so I thought why not try it. Because the sketch is yours I won’t post this to my own account but thought I’d at least share it with you.

This was a lot of fun! Though I can safely say our art styles are very different lol.

THAT IS SO CUTE SHUT UP

OMG

LITERALLY SAID "THAT IS SO CUTE SHUT UP" OUT LOUD AND GRASPED MY CHEST IN REAL TIME.

OMG

THAT IS INCREDIBLE!! dlkldkg OMG THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SHARING THIS WITH ME!! holy SHIT that looks SO GOOD!! holy CRAP!! LINELESS???? FOR REAL?? ARE YOU FOR REAL RIGHT NOW??

HOLY SHIT!!!!

THAT IS PHENOMENAL!!! oh my god the finesse in here; the shading, the CLEANLINESS of your lines?? the lighting, the vibrancy of the colors and patterns? this is SPOTLESS. SMOOTH AND GORGEOUS!! the gradients on Moon's hands, sleeves, pants, just. his CLOTHES in general?? (i REALLY fucking love your Moon, i LOVE this design holy crap. i'm gonna have to go raid your art tag later, i want to see MORE of him!!) he's got the CUTEST fucking mischievous eyes, and the overall MOOD in this pic?? FLAWLESS. HOW JOYOUS AND EXCITING this is just--!! it's so PLAYFUL and it's PERFECT!! just PRECISELY what i was originally going for!!

WOW holY CRAP and you got EXACTLY what i had planned for Freddy's hands, PERFECTLY!!! omg. o m G. just PHENOMENAL

and i REALLY love that you went and put your own little twist on it by having Moon pick up Freddy's hat and hold it aloft like that. this is just. fucking superb, OUTSTANDING content op, this is REALLY inspirational to me!! wow. i seriously can't get over this. the LINELESS!! the way you shaded and shaped with colors!! i'm. i'm floored. i'm awestruck. i'm absolutely over the MOON (ha ha)

(also i gotta say: up top high five for another Moon based in purple!! my original design for Moon (aka, Moony, who you can find in tags; he's the one with the hood) is based in purple for Color Psychology reasons, and it's ALWAYS so much fun to see another Purple Moon. absolutely STELLAR stuff, what a guy!!!)

this is SO beautiful and vibrant, op. i'm FLOORED and TOTALLY humbled that you chose my sketch to practice with, i hope it got you out of your art block!! this means SO much to me that it grabbed your interest and that you shared your finished work with me, THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ETERNITY AND BACK!! wow. WOW. i'll be riding high on this one for a GOOD while, LOL!! it seriously inspires ME, too!!

and i think it would inspire many many more, as well!! so while i REALLY thank you for your considerate, respectful thought - you have no idea how much that means to me, and how important that is, so thank you forever again - i think that this deserves to be on your blog, too. PLEASE by all means post it, just give credit back to me at this blog for providing the base sketch, and that'll be enough. i really, REALLY think you deserve recognition for this on its own. PLEASE post it to your blog and i'll be MORE THAN HAPPY to reblog it again!!

just. holy shit. holy SHIT. WOW. you really made my day. holy crap. what a fucking inspiration. WOW. this is some seriously smooth and beautiful, detailed work. the fucking finesse you've got going, here. wow.

fucking gorgeous. absolutely beautiful, top tier content OP 1000/10 A+, PLEASE DO IT AGAIN!!! DEFINITELY gonna be on the lookout for more of your work, THANK YOU FOREVER TO THE UNIVERSE AND MORE, and stay healthy and safe out there!!! 🥺🥺🙏💖💖🥚😭😭🙏🙏🙏⭐️🌙⭐️

#moon #holy crap i don't know what to tag this LOL uhh #gift art #????? #anyway. WOW. HOLY CRAP DLKADGFLKADGLHKDFGLKGDF #I'M NEVER GONNA GET OVER THIS. WOWWOWOWOW. FUCKING STELLAR STUFF #i'm not gonna tag it for the main tags bc i want YOU to be able to have that exposure #for real. not joking. please post this to the tags it super deserves to be seen Immediately. Post-Haste #thank you SO. MUCH. you SERIOUSLY inspire me. holy crap. wow. wowowowow. goodbye i need to go lie down in my grave with a smile #THANK YOU!!!!!!! 🙏🙏🥺🥺🥺🥺🙏🙏💖💖💖💖💖💖💖🥚🥚🥚 #(the 🥚 btw is my way of saying you're a 'good egg' and/or expressing fond joy. it's a positive thing!! dw!! LOL) #(EEEEEEE!!!!! oh my god. brb afk gotta go Die Now) #btw this is a side blog so i had to follow from my main which is partyinthemysterymachine! #just so ur aware and not so deign why this blog didn’t follow LOL #moony #<— only cuz i mentioned him lol

[sleepyowlwrites]

FTWT CCCLXV

I need to make a new "have a good time" playlist. but not right now. right now I'm doing a tag. from @talesofsorrowandofruin and @ashen-crest (some of these tags are so old gadzooks)

water (the sleepy stash)

“You do not love me.”

“I do not love you enough.”

And it hurt worse, this exchange, it stung much more to know that there was yet a little water here to drink, but not enough that one of us did not have to refrain, and thus, wither.

Better there had been no love, no water, and therefore no languishing. I turned from the drink, for it mocked me, and took my leave.

wait (summon story d0)

Zan deposited the firewood beside the stove. “They’re a monster, definitely.”

Shae hit the back of his head lightly. “Don’t be mean. They’re a good person. And the ibsin has kept up its side of the deal. Wryn doesn’t seem unhappy to have it.”

“Not that we would know, if they were.” Zan stared gloomily at the fire until Shae tugged him away. “How is Wryn going to manage, when they’re not them anymore?”

“I don’t know,” Shae said patiently, forcing him onto a chair. “We’ll just have to wait and see. Now cut up those vegetables.”

weapon (summon story supplemental)

“You’re mad to do that out in the open.”

Shae whirled around, one foot dragging through the ashes behind her, destroying the effectiveness of the array in seconds.

The voice had come from above her, a lump of shadow perched on the roof. The lump shifted and stretched, finding form while accompanied by the sound of bone on stone. Shae rolled her shoulders uncomfortably as the figure dropped down in a coordinated heap. As per usual, Shae had nothing on hand except her ruby knife, which she was loathe to use as a weapon.

weekly

wheel (that game where you go around in a circle and each write one sentence of a story and afterwards laugh so hard you cry)

Long ago in a space village there was a purple monkey. The monkey's name was Frederic Zebo II. He was the captain of the starship Zagoth. But his ship had no steering wheel. I can't describe what happened next. Just kidding, the ship crashed and everyone in it had a great bounce. They crawled out of the ship and saw a rubber duck army sergeant. This sergeant was the greatest duck in the force and an expert marksman. But the duck had lost his arms/wings in battle and was confined to a wheelchair. I wish social workers took care of him from henceforth on, but the government budget was slashed and he lived in solitude. The End.

seek (seafarer, searcher, 2021)

I knew the maps were faulty That there were treasures to be claimed I knew that I could find them If I sought and hoped and prayed I set off to seek my fortune But what I found was greater yet I came home with maps aplenty Of all the places that we met

no (city story d0)

“So then,” Jet feels his sentences slip-sliding around his head and scrambles to catch them. “You don’t really need me to stay over, or come and haunt me at my place?”

Rune echoes his sigh. “Having other people stay over at my apartment is for them, not me.”

Jet processes that. “So when it’s me, it’s for you?”

“Yeah. I told you, I feel safe with you around.”

It’s like Yarrow isn’t even there. Jet half-expects him to jump into the conversation. He doesn’t, just listens with his eyes on the sky.

“But do you then feel unsafe with other people around?”

“No.” Rune puts her hand out and up over her head. Jet accepts it but doesn’t do the holding. “I feel neutral, I guess. I feel like I’m the protector, and I know I can do that, so I just- I don’t know. I don’t feel anything. Or I feel everything. I’m aware. I don’t have to be aware of things around you.”

decline

floor (city story d0)

“Why are there two of you?” Rune also sounds exhausted as she retrieves the pillow and tosses it back over her shoulder where it lands on the floor instead of the couch.

Jet would feel bad about springing this on her except that he can’t feel anything at all. “Shadow was supposed to ask if he could stay over earlier,” he replies with a couple of elbow jabs to Shadow’s side.

Shadow shrugs in such a way that he looks like he’s trying to wrap his shoulders around his chest. “Sorry.”

Rune just holds the door open and walks away. Jet had presumed that she wouldn’t turn them away, and apparently, he’s right. Still. “Sorry,” he repeats as they come inside and shut the door behind them.

dry, fry, cry, try. BONUS: pry, wry. @ambiguouspuzuma @athenswrites @autumnalwalker @aohendo @akindofmagictoo OR ANYBODY

#find the word tag #searching circle

[ur-fav-is-schizo]

YOUR FAV IS SCHIZOSPEC↭!!

Hey folks!! I'm Sol (he/it), and imma be the one running this blog!! I noticed that the previous "your fav is psychotic" blogs seemed to be either inactive or deactivated, so I thought why not add another sideblog to the collection, you know?

The ask box is open, so feel free to request any characters! Format it something along the lines of...

"[Insert Character] from [Insert Media] is psychotic!!"

Or maybe, "psychotic and autistic," "a psychotic pwAVPD," "schizospec," or even "a schizo" if you really want. Feel free to go into details too like, "[Insert Character] from [Insert Media] is psychotic, and has [Insert Symptoms]!!" ..or you can just chat to me and share posts, that's chill!!

I'm not going to say a hard no to any particular media right now. If I'm uncomfortable or unsure of a request then I'll just politely decline it k?

This place is safe for neurodivergents of all kinds, including disabled pplz btw!!

I'll say outright that pwPDs are welcome here, so if you think "narcissistic abuse" is a valid descriptor of any abuse then go away!! It's also not my place to question other people's experiences, so if you're the kind of person who goes around fake claiming others.. You're not welcome!! I don't care how "cringey" or "obviously fake" someone is, because in my experience that's usually just repackaged sanism!! Any plural/system/what have you is welcome, I'm not interested in syscourse so try not to bring it up. But anywayz, if you get on my nervez I'll justz block u k?

Here is my own version of the psychosis/schizospec flag, with the symbol, primary colours and moon motif pulled from actuallyschizophrenic, while otherwise being unabashedly inspired by charb's flag. The explanation/description is pretty long so I'll tuck it underneath the read more (along with other ids). Feel free to use thesez!! Just tag me if u do anythingz cool w/ them cause I wanna see!!

The flag centers the symbol of the schizospec/psychotic community: an arrow pointing either way, left and right, (symbolizing the vastness, scope, and diversity of the community) with a wave in the middle (symbolising positive and negative symptoms). It's coloured purple, one of our representing colours, featuring a pink outline to help with the cohesion of the flag.

Behind it are two overlapping circles: one a light grey like silver (our other representing colour), and one a dark purple. White and black can often be seen as ethereal colours (embodying light or the abyss), so I knew I wanted to include them for their otherworldly properties, and so the overlapping is like the inbetweens or overlapping of what we perceive and experience if that makes sense. The overlapping circles also create a crescent moon, another symbol claimed by the community because psychotics are a bunch of "lunatics". It's outlined in grey to help with the cohesion of the flag.

The impression of a pink arrow's point continues to either edge of the flag (also outlined in grey), emphasising the centered symbol while also seperating the top and bottom's colours. Shapes come off the top and bottom of the pink, imitating a wave. The waves on the top half are a lighter purple with a purple background, the bottom a lighter red with a red background (outlined in pink). These are akin to lines on a typical flag.

To pull from charb's description of the colours:

Purple; the good side of schizospec disorders/being proud of being schizospec despite everything. Red; the reclaimation and/or the hatred of harmful tropes of us in media. Grey & Black; the unfortunate bad side of schizospec disorders and the strength it takes to deal with it. Pink; acceptance and the hope for better treatment from others.

And next to that is its geometric counterpart, which should be a BIT easier to reproduce.. But I think it's pretty obvious I made the flag to be more artistic than practical.

The symbol is the same, but the circles have been changed to verticle lines. About a quarter of the flag the silver line, a quarter the dark purple line, the overlapping colour a small slither. This block of lines is outlined by grey. To the left and right are horizontal lines, alternating between large and small lines. Top to bottom, starting with a large line: purple, (pink), light purple, (grey), pink, (grey), light red, (pink), red.

Blog header is my version of the psychosis/schizospec flag. Pfp is Ame-Chan (Needy Streamer Overload), with the purple, light purple, pink, light red, and red stripes as a background.

First image of pinned is the purple, light purple, pink, light red, and red stripes.

Next image is purple, light purple stripes. Followed by the psychosis/schizospec flag, and its geometric counterpart. Next image is light red, red stripes.

Under the cut is the purple stripes again, followed by the red stripes. This text is followed by the first pinned image, repeated.

#pinned #your fav is schizo #your fav is schizospec #your fav is psychotic #psychosis #psychotic #schizospec #schizophrenia #actually psychotic #actually schizospec #actually schizophrenic

[winterlovesong1]

Winter Rewatched Nancy Drew

Welcome to my first rewatch of my current favorite comfort show ❤️ Under the cut are my thoughts and a few insights I hope you enjoy - I’ll be going through each episode and posting these periodically with the tag winter rewatched Nancy Drew.

3x03 - The Journey of the Dangerous Mind

So I’ve taken up this space to dig into any potential double meaning to the episode titles and this one is interesting because yes it’s about the larger mystery arc, and also about the mini mystery for this episode - but also I think in an episode specifically crafted for Nace!Pining - it also insinuates something alarming about what’s only been kept in the haven of each of their minds at this point - the idea that their feelings could lead to some sort of danger - although we don’t know what this at this point as a present audience member, but we do as a rewatcher...

Overall MVP

I choose Bess - because she ties together both sides of the storyline in this episode - she’s the one to bring the pieces together so to speak and I feel like she doesn’t get enough credit - as evident by her conversation with Ace that even though the topic isn’t about “I deserve praise” it’s sort of underlying in the talk they have. Bess really doesn’t get enough acknowledgment and I think she’s feeling that here - we see that later on in the season when she actually calls the crew out on it - but here in this episode is just the seedling of that feeling rising to the surface.

Most Heartfelt Moment

“I just didn’t want the box for a podcast. It was for her.”

Ok - the whole tie up of the mini storyline here at the end of the episode was so precious - and Laci finally revealing that she didn’t want the box for mystery solving purposes but for personal reasons was just *puddle of mush*

Best Overall Line

“Inside the nightmare factory? How come you never take a vote?”

Tagline alert! I love when lines appear in the episode that encapsulate the show and George seems to get alot of them it seems as I’m noticing in my rewatch.

“You can feel good.”

SUPPORTIVE ACE BE STILL MY HEART. And the proximity he has to Nancy in this episode and then for him to say this toward the episode in the final moments of the scene - I can’t...

Best Comedic Moment

No girl. I am the Fan.

George really slayed the comedy this episode - but not in the hilarious, knee slapping way - in the heartfelt, no apologies way we all love her for. Also putting her character in such a sincere situation as a con where people - fans - are gathered to celebrate a thing is comedy in itself - not that George isn’t sincere - she is the icon of honesty - its just a con is something so pure and George just is not the type to go “yes, I will go celebrate and gather with my peers over a shared love - I have better things to do, thank you very much.”

Scare Rating There’s definitely scarier episodes but this one was creepy - so maybe 6? Nace Slow Burn Rating

3x03. The episode perfectly crafted for Nace!Pining. An episode that basically was written to showcase and run home the idea these two are meant for each other, but also introduce if they are meant for each other, will they meet the fate of so many other love stories they’ve come across in their mystery solving “career.”

Or will they defeat the curse that’s piled up against them?

My favorite moment upon rewatch was this tiny moment after Ace pulls Nancy to safety - right after Nancy says “something about that reenactment didn’t make sense...” - the way Ace takes this singular moment for himself - even though they’ve been on the other side, they’ve been safe for several minutes now - this is the moment he’s confirming for himself she’s ok - and it’s everything to me.

The rating scale at this point I feel like is mute but 10/10.

Favorite Fashion Moment

Nancy just looked great in this episode overall. Also Ace in the purple shirt <3 Missing Moment Drabble

New drabble here - domestic Nace inspired by this episode...

Another missing moment here

#nace #tv: nancy drew #winter rewatched nancy drew

[soshesighs]

Why You Should Read

Soon You'll Get Better

the tag challenge: hype in a fun way one of your works that you think deserves more attention, add a comment you’ve received on it (if you want to!) and keep the promote-your-fic chain going! ♡ self-rec incoming.

(tagged by @actual-sleeping-beauty - thank you! 💜)

Okay, so... I'm cheating on this a bit, because this is a single chapter of a story, not a whole fic. (In my defense, it is a fic made up entirely of one-shots, at least, so it does stand on its own.) Also cheating a bit in that this is not a 'fun' thing to hype up really. ...Wow, I'm really not following any of the rules for this tag thing, am I?

Moving on.

Actually, I'm going to go ahead and copy the content warnings for that chapter here, just to be safe. I don't want anyone clicking on anything they're not in a good place to read:

Content warning: depictions of a depressive episode, minor character death (off screen), medical discussions (visiting someone in ICU, dancing around the topic of the canon cancer diagnosis), minor self harm (to be completely transparent: clawing at something until hands are bloody, not done on purpose, and running far past a body’s limit, done on purpose), some religious symbolism.

I know it sounds sad as hell to read, and it is. But I'm so beyond proud of that chapter and how it turned out. It is, without a doubt, some of the most beautiful writing I've ever managed to produce, and given how intensely personal it was and how much of my own heart I spilled out onto the page for it, I just... I love it so much.

So if you're down for reading some

very purple prose

with heavy-handed symbolism

and heavy angst

but with a hopeful ending!

and some very sweet comforting through emotional pain!!

then I think you'd enjoy it.

And for the ''share a comment" bit, have a couple (because again, I am stupid proud of this chapter, okay? sue me):

Omg okay this chapter HURT I had to just sit and stare out the window for a minute after I finished because oh my GOD. I lost count of the amount of times I had to set my phone down because I just needed to process what I was reading. The way you write is just so atmospheric. I can so easily picture what’s going on, and that made this chapter all the more intense. The line “you don’t belong to them” absolutely BROKE me. That’s so POWERFUL and that entire interaction was just heartbreaking.

This is absolutely beautiful and stunning. Wow wow wow this was actually painful to read, but in a really good way, if that makes sense? Idk, I can barely form a coherent thought right now and my eyes are actually blurry with tears lmaooo. From the first chapter of this fic, I was wondering what you would do with this song, and this is better than anything I ever could've imagined. It feels so... raw and visceral, yet sweet and so, so necessary for Henry. I'm in awe. 

Tagging: @alexgcd and @adinarj again!

#my fics #rwrb #wow intentionally hyping up my own stuff feels WEIRD #why does bragging on ourselves feel SO WEIRD

[365runesoftheamalgamations]

Find The Words [ 05 ]

hello and how are you?

We are doing another day of tag games and diving deep into the Drafts Hoard to get older works and tags, we hope no one hurts us for holding onto these tags for so long. (*≧▽≦)

Thank you to the wonderful @kyofsonder for tagging us in this game! You can find his response right here! :D

Our Words: reach | patience | shaky | hollow | ripple

Open Tag For All Who See And Want To Join! Your Words: craft | decisive | straw | rehabilitation | master

Content Warnings: Death, Death Mentions, Implied Explosions, Violence Please keep yourselves safe.

Reach(es) | A Magician and A Curse

Rune ditches the wooden rod as the Witch falls back in pain. She grabs the young woman, begins to drag her away from the writhing body. The woman is shell-shocked, limp body not helping as hands sloppily grab at Rune. “My hus-“ “He’s dead. Leave him.” Rune throws her into the hall, turns to see the Witch already beginning to stand. Purple lightning sparks from its body, the Witch lifting its head to mutter in the air. Rune curses, spins around and reaches for the woman. The Witch combusts.

Patience | A Knight's Honor

“My Lady…” “Oh please, Sir Knight. If you think you can send me off, then go ahead and wander away. I promise that I will follow you no matter the words that you think you can give.” He wants to groan. As it stands, he does pinch the bridge of his nose, trying to exude the calm patience he has been trained to hold when dealing the stubbornness of nobility. But Elizabeth slips past him, shifting to examine the Moonflowers herself, and he finds himself instantly following her, hands ready to stop hers in the circumstance of her fingers trying to wander too close for comfort.

Shaky | Eyes of Salvation

“Alyce!? Alyce!” She gasps, eyes blinking hard past tears as she comes back to reality. She swallows air, eyes darting around until a hand comes to help her focus. Zane fills her space, voice dropping into a whisper that is streaked with concern and terror. “You’re alright Alyce. It was a vision; not the Realities. I promise.” She stares at him, the vision coming back full force as she realizes. Tears prick at her again and her shaky hands find Zane, clinging as she tries to warn him. “Plea- Zane, I-”

Hollow | Mitch's Journals

He is crying when they come. Their entrance is like the whisper of Corinth’s last breath. Mitch stares at the Dragon of Death, somehow heavy and final. He can’t look away from their eyes, from the Knowledge of their existence. He feels himself hollow out, takes one last look at Corinth. He is peaceful and Mitch hates it. The Dragon breathes out a sigh, Mitch focusing back on them as they move towards Corinth. He watches, waits for them to take Corinth away. His voice bubbles up without warning, Mitch doing nothing to stop it. “Please.”

Ripple(s) | Grayland's Shadow

You stare at the man in front of you, trying to swallow down what he had just said. You look away from him and into the coffee cup he had given you, watching as your shaking hands make ripples in the golden liquid. The words won’t sink in and you shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the meaning. You place the cup down, trying to remain as calm as possible. “What… what did you say?” “I… I have done something… terrible.” You shake your head at the lame excuse and stare him down, feeling the fear rise from the pit of your stomach. “No, the first time. What did you say the first time? What terrible thing have you done?”

#rune ⊹ tag games #tag game ⊹ find the words #wip ⊹ multiple works #magician.curse #mitch.journals #grayland.shadow #death #death mentions #implied explosions #violence

[no-droids]

Ask Me Again Tomorrow

gif credit @pedros-pascal​

Part Sixteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 16.3K

Warnings: SMUTTTTT, following/stalking, some fluffy moments but mostly just a lil action and interaction, I don’t think there’s any other warning besides language and the smut (comm sex WITH A TWIST YALLLLL) but if you happen to find something else that warrants a tag, please let me know and I will do so accordingly!

A/N: The response to this story has grown beyond anything I could’ve ever imagined and I genuinely thank you all from the bottom of my heart for the privilege of writing for you.  Hope this one ends up being okay and I’ll get to work on the next chapter soon!

***

Headstart—12:17pm:

The sky is so pretty.  There isn’t much to look at on the surface—rolling hills and plains, grassy but with dry bare spots breaking up the green stretches, but the sky.  It’s an oil painting above you, pastel swishes of yellows and pinks and purples with an enormous ringed planet taking up half the horizon and another sizable moon hanging high.

You should probably be running.  Like, for real sprinting, but you can’t push yourself to go faster than a brisk walk.  It’s so… free out here, more hills springing up every time you get to the top of the next, warm air filling your lungs.  Even though you know realistically that the beginning will likely be the hardest—where you need to focus most on running and putting distance between you instead of hiding—truth be told, you’re not foreseeing making it more than a full day.  You’re going to try, obviously, but in the grand scheme, you wouldn’t be surprised in the least if he finds you tomorrow.  So, instead of wasting all your energy going as fast as you physically can right out of the gate, you just decide to stroll and think for a little bit.

You know what your goal is.  Obviously, to last as long as you can, but more specifically… well, if Din is going to chase after you, then he’s going to try to think like you.  Anticipate your movements, if he can’t already see the tracks you leave plain as day.  Very soon, he’ll be walking this same exact pathing, following the footprints you’re leaving behind, but if you’re ever able to shake him or throw him off course, he doesn’t have a tracking fob.  He doesn’t have any mechanical device that points him in your direction—if you can lose him with the footprints, then he’ll have to rely solely on predicting you. Which means you need to think… exactly the opposite of yourself if you want to outsmart him.

That’s harder than it sounds though, because… is he going to predict you predicting him?  At what point does it stop?  You somehow have trouble seeing this as an advantage the way he said it would be—you almost wish you had someone else chasing you, someone you didn’t know and someone who didn’t know you if only so this paradox could end before it begins.

You’re walking for about ten minutes before spotting a dirt road in the distance.  There’s a person following it in the direction of the sun—you don’t know this planet’s magnetic field but you do know it’s after noon and the sun would set on Arvala-7 in the west, so that’s what you’ll call it for now.  You call out to them as soon as you’re in range, and the stranger turns to you.

“Excuse me!”  It’s a woman, you see it as you get closer.  “I’m so sorry to bother you, but can you tell me where this road leads?”

She removes a sheer yellow shawl covering her dark hair and gives you a friendly smile.  “Hello,” the lady greets, before spinning around and pointing back the way she came.  “Osiruu is a few hours that way.  There’s not much there, but it will take you to G’ila, a transport hub with many opportunities for drifters, or Nariss, the capital.  I’m on my way to Shabeth,” she points in the other direction.  “It’s far—a day’s walk, but it’s a holy place and offers quite the view.  I would be glad for the company, but I understand its lack of practical appeal.”

So this place is safe enough to be inviting strangers along on your travels, noted.  You’re going to have to make the decision right now, then.  Which path should you take?

Something deep inside you tells you that you want to see this holy place, and just from a few sentences, you already like this woman and feel safe with her.  But then all of a sudden, you remember something.

Last known locations tell you a lot about a quarry, Din’s voice drifts back to you, sounding soft and distant from the dark forests of Naboo.  Smart ones go to populated planets, planets like Coruscant, planets that make it nearly impossible to find people.  Brave ones go to dangerous planets, suicidal ones try their luck in the Unknown Regions, idiots continue to go about their business on their homeworld without caring.  But planets like this—like Naboo… those are the pacifists.  The ones that don’t ever put up a fight.

You suppose you should decide what kind of quarry you want to be.  Friendly company and a view is something you normally crave—it’s something your soul speaks to after going without it for so long during your previous life.  You never pictured yourself as the fighting type.  When Din first asked you, you told him you wouldn’t run from him if he was chasing you, and choosing to accompany this kind stranger to her destination is essentially just that.  Sacrificing a chase for a pretty view.

“Does Shabeth have a sizable population?”  You ask her, and she shakes her head.

“It’s the sight of an annual pilgrimage that happens in a few months, but it’s beautiful there and I like to go whenever I can,” she tells you with a soft smile.  “But there’s nothing for miles outside it, I’m afraid.”

Your footprints will lead directly there.  He’ll find you easily.

“It sounds very nice, but I need to find somewhere with a lot of people,” you give her an apologetic smile.  Truly, you think she would’ve made for a nice friend.  “Thank you for your help, though, and good luck with your journey!  I hope we meet again.”

“Do you need any food or supplies?”  She asks you, and you stop short of passing her by.  “I don’t have much with me, but know what it’s like to be a newcomer to Sanctuary II.  I’d be glad to help.”

Good Maker, is this how everybody is here or did you just hit the jackpot with this lady?  She seems like… you, almost.  Her voice is gentle, she looks like she’d give nice hugs.  You’re about to politely turn her down, but then you realize the brilliant opportunity that’s presented itself in her image.

“Actually, this might sound like a really strange question, but…” you tell her, before looking down at her feet.  “Wanna trade shoes with me?”

***

Headstart—6:12pm:

You don’t think it’ll work, but as you walk into a small settlement a few hours later in a unfamiliar and worn pair of sandals, you decide that you’ll need to do this as often as possible.  You can’t come up with anything else that’ll throw him off your physical trail besides constantly switching shoes—is that bad?  Are you just an idiot with no hope?  You’ve had—you check your watch—like, five hours to think of a game plan, and all you’ve come up with is shoes?  You’re screwed.

At least there’s food here.  Plenty.  There’s vendors stationed along the street, multiple people passing by and going about their business.  Osiruu, that nice woman said—not much here, but you think she was wrong.  There’s children giggling and jumping rope on the corner, a shopkeeper sweeping her storefront, a graying man with an empty cup plucking an unfamiliar melody on an unfamiliar instrument—and while your tummy growls and you know you should quickly buy supplies and be on your way, you still stop for just a few minutes to listen.

It’s a lovely tune.  You drop a few credits in his cup after he finishes and find yourself humming it as you look at the plethora of goods being offered by the vendors.  Water, food—you buy enough of everything to sustain you for at least a couple days, not wanting to go hungry but also feeling realistic over optimistic.  The cuisine is foreign and you just point to things that look appetizing since you’re not sure about the name or pronunciation, but after paying and taking a bite into a rather large piece of purple fruit, your eyes nearly cross at how sweet and tasty it is.  Holy Maker, that might just be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.  You ask for two more after you finish the first, tucking one in your backpack next to your blaster and munching on the other as you keep browsing.

Suddenly you see shoes—yes.  Fucking shoes, your salvation.  You take a good look at all your options, of which, there aren’t many.  Generic men's, women's, and children's, all in the same color and design.  It’s good in a way—you see most people walking around in the same type of clothing here and you pray there’s not a way for him to track your gait or the whole thing is a bust, but truthfully, what you’re most worried about is the fact that you’ll create a brand new set of footprints wherever your old ones disappear.  Unless you trade with someone else, you won’t ever have a back pathing, you know that Din will probably be able to easily spot it.

“Three pairs of these, please,” you point to the correct shoes and tell him your size, but then—“Oh wait, actually, can I actually have one of them that’s the next size up?  And another that’s the same but in men's?”

The man behind the counter gives you an odd look but acquiesces, measuring the size of your preferred pair to multiple men’s shoes to find one that looks roughly the same—you doubt he’s ever had a request like this, but you’re also a generous tipper.  His smile is grateful when you tell him to keep the change and then you’re stuffing the new shoes into your backpack and moving onward.

Would there be some kind of map here, you wonder?  One that shows distance so you won’t waste time trying to reach a place you won’t be able to walk to?  That lady said a transport hub and the capital are through this settlement, but she didn’t provide much information beyond that.  You don’t want to be in the middle of nowhere when he finally catches up to you, you’ll need some place to hide.

When you stop to ask an elderly gentleman as he passes by, he freely provides you a basic gist.  There’s a large forest beyond Osiruu—after it will be a road that passes through a few notable places, with a town called Sijua to the west that leads north to G’ila, and Devain to the east that leads northeast to Nariss.  Both are within walking distance, though it may take a couple days to reach your destination.

Alright then.  Through the forest, you suppose.  You probably should’ve asked which way is east, but he’s already leaving and you don’t have the nerve to ask him to stop again.  You have a finger point, that’s all you need.  Making sure to use one of the small restrooms near the square before heading out, you eventually decide to make your way towards the direction he said this forest would be.

***

Headstart—6:58pm:

A bus.

You’re not going to take it, of course, but it’s the perfect solution to the problem you’ve been mulling over.  It’s at the very edge of the small settlement, and you quickly speed up into a half-jog as soon as you hear its engine running.

“Last call for the seven o’clock!”  A large man stationed near the doors yells as you approach.  “Last bus to G’ila until tomorrow!”

The sun is setting and you have to extend your hand out in front of you to not be blinded by it.  “Hello,” you give him a smile, before grabbing one of the handles on the side and stepping up onto the metal platform.

“Ah!”  The man quickly stops you, moving to stand in front of the open doors.  He’s as wide as he is tall, big enough that he blocks the entire exit.  “That’ll be ten credits, miss.”

“Oh,” you say, patting your empty pockets and pulling your eyebrows inwards, trying not to move too much in case the sizable amount of credits you have stashed in your backpack happen to rattle.  “Oh, no.  I think I lost my wallet.”

He sighs.  “Off the bus then please, miss.  Come back tomorrow if you find it.”

You nod, leaning your forearm against the paneling and beginning to take your shoes off.  “Will it be parked in the same place exactly?”

The driver looks curiously at you, clearly confused at both the strange question and your strange actions.  “I’m sorry?  Please—off the bus.”

“One second,” you tell him, now barefoot on the platform and digging into your backpack for the slightly larger sized shoes you bought earlier.  The sound of credits clink against your blaster, but you hope he takes your lead in purposefully ignoring them.  “Does the bus to G’ila park in this spot every single day?”

“Yes,” the man tells you impatiently, eyeing the way you’re stepping into the new pair with a subtle look of distaste.  Everyone is polite here, it seems.  “It will arrive back at seven am sharp with passengers from G’ila, in the same exact place.  Please get off the bus.”

“Thank you, sir,” you tell him with a smile, watching him step to the side to allow you to drop down into the dirt again and continue on your way.

Brilliant, if you do say so your fucking self.  Eliminate the need for a back pathing.  All footprints facing this direction are going to be the first footprints, and all of them facing the opposite way are going to be the last; if Din manages to figure out you didn’t take the bus, then he won’t be able to tell which new set are yours and which belong to the other passengers.  You pray the helmet can’t track gaits, but while you’re still paying enough attention, you make sure to keep your steps just slightly longer and even try placing more weight on the edges of your feet to make it look like you have a slightly higher arch than you actually do.  You’d put a pebble inside of them or something, but you know you’re going to be walking through the night and you don’t want to commit to having your feet hurt more than you already know they’re going to.

Eventually the quaint shops and small houses disappear behind you, and the sun setting over the horizon turns the clouds above turn more dusty green and brown than yellow and pink.  You hope Din opened up the ramp after you left.  You want him to see the sky.

***

Headstart—9:34pm

The forest here is different from Naboo, too.

Maybe it was because you only saw it while you were in crisis-mode, but that forest seemed much scarier and darker than this one.  The vegetation there was thick and overgrowing, but these trees look like they’ve never had leaves on them at all.  No twigs or small branches that sprout from the trunks—the branches are all thick and gnarly, criss-crossing with each other with how close they’ve grown together.  You bet their roots are practically one at this point, stretching for miles and miles but all sharing the same system.

Because there aren’t any leaves, there's nothing to block the moonlight shining clear and crystalline through the twisting maze of branches.  Sanctuary II appears to have a sister moon—Sanctuary I, perhaps?—that’s likely a similar size, because it’s the same one you've seen all day and it’s barely moved a few degrees that you can tell.  It must orbit incredibly close and be tidal-locked with this one then.  Two massive satellites swinging around each other as they circle a ringed gas giant, but it makes a stunning view and reflects more than enough light to see.

The sky is deep blue and maroon and you’ve been walking in a straight line for hours, using the stationary moon overhead as your guide.  The only issue with this plan that you’ve been able to come up with is that there’s no widely traveled path through the trees—even you can see your footprints and the clear trail you’re leaving behind.  You’ve been trying for a while to figure out another clever evasion tactic, but it’s harder than it sounds.  Can’t just change shoes again, that’ll be a dead giveaway.  How do you lose him?

You stop for a second, reaching into your bag to grab some water and stay hydrated.  Looking up once more at the beauty of the swirling colors peeking through the branches above you, you find yourself pausing after returning the bottle to your pack.  There are… an atrocious number of branches up there, and all of them are long and tangled and thick.  Sturdy.

You’ve… never climbed a tree before.

Without thinking much beyond that, you decide to bend your knees and jump, grabbing hold of one of the strong wooden tubes over your head and then swinging your legs up.  Ouch—the bark scrapes against your palms and you have to hold on tight with your thighs while you shimmy yourself upwards, but at least the wood is solid as fuck.  It takes you a minute or two, but you’re eventually able to shuffle yourself around so you’re straddling the thick branch, and then you look out to see the large collection of them criss-crossing in every direction around you.

Oof, this is dangerous.  You know it even before you start.  The gaps leading to the ground are bigger and more numerous than your potential pathing forward, but the only thing that gives you reassurance is how thick the wood is—you’re almost certain the branches aren’t going to break as long as you’re careful.

Okay.  Shoes, these are too big for the kind of dexterity you’re going to need.  You take them off slowly, being extra careful not to drop them, and then exchange them with the better-fitting pair you bought earlier, making a mental note that the sandals and the larger shoes are the two you’ve already worn.  If your pursuer manages to catch on to the multiple footprint changes, your most recent ones should ideally just… disappear right there, shouldn’t they?

You grin, before struggling into a low crouch and looking around your wooden cage for a safe way forwards.

***

Headstart—11:37pm:

Water.

A blessing, and not because you’re thirsty.  You have clean water in your bag and decades of habits formed in the desert to ensure you’re taking breaks and drinking enough—what you need is a way to disguise your footprints once you get back on the ground again.  This was good; scuttling your way along thick and twisting branches for as long as you have was time-consuming and exhausting, but it allowed you to avoid touching the ground for at least a mile or so, which means he’ll have to comb that entire radius to look for your drop.

And it was fun.

You even found yourself giggling as you ducked and scooted, ignoring the bark scraping your skin and your panting breaths, the way your face got sweaty and hot.  You had to do some brave maneuvers at tricky spots—jumping, balancing, hugging—but it almost just felt like an exciting little obstacle course for you and you’re honestly having a fucking blast right now.

Water, though.  Water is an unexpected beauty, even more than you’ve always considered it to be.  Water is an eroder.  Not only powerful enough to smooth down the rough edges of strong elements over time, but it will hide your footprints as soon as you create them and leave no indication that you were ever there.

Eventually you see it—a babbling stream cutting a considerably wide line through the trees.  You creep forward and hang tight to a branch above you to make sure you won’t fall, wiping the sweat on your brow with your other hand as you study the terrain.  The water is… a considerable distance below you, maybe about ten or so feet, and there’s quite a few branches on either side that extend and hang out over it.  You could probably find your way to the other side somehow, but something tells you to avoid the road beyond the forest if you can.  It leads to multiple places, it would be better to follow the stream until you can eventually merge with it later.

That means you’re… fuck.  You’re going to have to jump, aren’t you?

It’s the only way—you can’t leave footprints which means you’re going to need to land in the water.  The trees clear too far from the shoreline, so you can’t shimmy down the trunk of one for a shorter fall.  You’re going to have to climb out on one of those long branches until you’re suspended over the stream, and then you’re going to have to lower yourself as far as you can and then let go.  With your height already accounting for at least half the distance plus the length of your arms as you hang, you should only have to drop two or three feet before reaching water, and then maybe another two feet to the floor under it.  It looks forgiving enough—the moonlight shines and the stream is clear and you can mainly just see sand at the bottom, no sharp rocks or other potential dangers to be found.  This… this is doable.

Okay.  If you pull this off, you’re a badass.  If you don’t break any bones or seriously injure yourself in any way, you deserve some kind of commendation.  This is probably kiddie shit to Din, who keeps literal rockets strapped to his back and jumps out of ships flying thousands of feet above the ground, but this is a challenge for you and you’re feeling just excited enough to be up to it.

You’re eventually able to climb onto the thickest, sturdiest branch you can see that happens to hang over the water, straddling it and beginning to scoot.  Your thighs are killing you at this point but you’re holding deathly tight to the wood, your movements becoming more and more cautious the further away from the trunk you get.

You’re directly above the water now, but you need to go out a little further.  Aim for right in the middle so you don’t accidentally leave any tracks or prints on the shoreline if you need to catch yourself.  The unfamiliar wood in this forest is admittedly sturdy, but the branch begins to subtly sag with your weight as you keep slowly scooting forward, and you’re just about to the correct spot when—

Day 1–12:00am:

“Sweet girl.”

—You nearly fucking fall.

“Maker,” you gasp, suddenly scrambling to catch yourself on the branch before you can plummet.  It creaks and groans under your weight but supports you nonetheless, and when you’re one hundred percent certain it isn’t going to break, you jerk your head down to the communicator and see that it’s midnight, on the dot.

Shit.

Your heart slams against your ribs and your arms shake with adrenaline while you study it for just a moment longer, trying to calm the fuck down.

“Hey,” Din’s voice comes sharply from your wrist, crackling and tinny through the comm, nearly scaring you again.  “Answer me.”

You don’t want to sacrifice your grip right now, but you have no doubt he’ll fly the Crest out to you if you don’t respond.  So you quickly let go to press a button on the front face and then latch onto the branch tight once more, raising your voice because you can’t risk bringing your wrist up to your mouth to speak.  You hope he’ll be able to hear without the microphone picking up the sound of the stream below.  “Uh.  Ahem.  Hello.  Yes?”

“You’re too quiet,” Din’s disembodied voice immediately informs you.  “Or something on your side is too loud.  There’s an earpiece built into the side of the communicator, take it out and use it instead.”

You study the wrist brace without moving, until you finally see what he’s talking about.  It’s a small, wireless piece of machinery hidden on the left side of the electronic display, and you quickly pop it out and stuff it into your ear just in time to hear the sound of hydraulics clanging through the speaker as you clutch the branch again.  You’d know that sound anywhere, it’s the ramp of the hull closing.

“Are you already on the move?”  You ask him incredulously, your thighs starting to go numb with how deathly tight you’ve been squeezing this tree.

“Can’t sleep,” Din murmurs, sounding so much closer and deeper than before.  Does he have his earpiece on under the helmet or something?  Stars, is that why his voice sounds that good?  It’s like it’s coming from inside your own head, bassy and rough.  “Ready or not.”

You huff, your tummy going warm.  Of course he can’t sleep, of course he’s going to look for you as soon as he’s allowed to.  If he waited until morning, you’d probably be slightly offended.  You try to slow your heart rate into something acceptable, but being this far above water and hearing his baritone murmur directly in your ear make it difficult.  “But I’m… sleepy.”

“You’re always sleepy,” he tells you, and though you can’t actually hear him walking, the sound of his footsteps shake through his voice just slightly as he speaks.

“Hang on,” you huff, ducking your head to drag it against your shoulder, keeping the sweat from your eyes without using your hands, “you’re gonna make me stay up all night just because you do?  This isn’t fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules.”

Well.  Fair.

Stars, you can’t stay here.  You don’t know how long he wants to check-in for, but you’re also not confident with this branch’s ability to hold you for an extended time when you’re this far out from the trunk.  You need to get in that stream one way or another, but now that he’s here, you have an extra problem.  Din is going to hear you no matter what.

“Um.  Can you give me a second?”  You ask him, glancing around to make sure there’s no better way of doing this.  Nope, you realize very quickly—this is the best idea you’ve got, and you don’t really know what that says about the quality of all your other ideas.

“What?”  Din grunts shortly, but you just clear your throat.

“I need to… mute myself.  Give me like… five minutes.”

“What are you talking abou—”

“You of all people cannot be upset about asking for five minutes of quiet,” you return testily, looking down at the distance to the stream once more.  That’s a long way.  You… you can’t swim obviously, but again, the water doesn’t look too deep.  Just a couple feet likely, shouldn’t go past your knees.

It’s fitting that he doesn’t say anything, which you eventually take as disgruntled acceptance, so you quickly press the proper button on your wrist to silence the mic and then take a few deep breaths.  You have a time limit now, you have to do this.

With incredible patience and precision, you eventually slide until you’re clutching the branch upside down like an only slightly quicker and less coordinated sloth, before slowly dropping your legs and hanging over the water.

It’s… admittedly a bit further down than you anticipated, or maybe that’s just you making things worse than they actually are, but you’re committed at this point and there’s no going back.

You close your eyes, count to three, and then you let go.

The sandy floor meets your feet with considerable force and you make a hell of a splash doing it, nearly falling but just barely managing to keep yourself balanced and upright at the last second.  The water is cool and comes up just over your knees, your backpack miraculously didn’t get wet and all your limbs remain shaky but unbroken.

Okay.  Okay, fucking success.  It feels… thrilling, accomplishing a dangerous feat, and you quickly let out a loud whoop before clearing your throat, trying to sound normal as you press a button on the communicator’s face once more.

“Mando?”  You ask, slightly out of breath.  “Sorry about that, I’m back.”

Okay, now which way do you go?  Downstream seems like the easier path after getting in so much unexpected exercise, so that’s the one you go with.  As soon as you lift your foot from the sand bed, you watch your footprint almost immediately disappear through the moonlit water, and you bite your lip at just how well everything turned out for you.

After a moment though, you realize he hasn’t answered you.  You look down at the communicator again to make sure you pressed the right thing.  “Hello?  Shiny?”

“Did you trade shoes with someone?”  Din’s voice suddenly comes through the earpiece, sounding absolutely incredulous.

“Shit,” you tell him, trying not to smile.  “Hoped that was gonna buy me more time.”

“It… might’ve, if you kept walking in the same direction as they were,” he informs you after a moment.  “Your shoes went south, but this other pair got all the way out here just to turn back around again?  Good idea, but the execution needs work.”

Maker, he’s smart.  It was the first attempt at a footprint change so you weren’t thinking much beyond tricking the tracking mechanism in his helmet, you ignored his logic completely.  Essentially, the exact opposite of what he told you to do.  You like to think you’re getting better at it by this point, thinking beyond just the original exchange, and you’re hoping you’ll be able to trick him with at least one of the other fifty times you changed shoes today.  You’ll have to see tomorrow night, if you can make it that long.

Also, the road you were on apparently goes north-south, that’s important information you make sure to take note of.  The man in Osiruu said Devain and Nariss are to the east, and that Sijua and G’ila are westward, right?  Remembering that you thought south was west earlier, you do some quick calculating and immediately come to a stop in the moving water as soon as you figure out your positioning, turning around and walking upstream instead.

You want to go to Nariss.  The capital, and the biggest city in walking distance.  Smart quarry go to populated places, places that make it nearly impossible to find people.

“Alright.  Mando: one, Me: zero,” you finally acknowledge, swinging your backpack around and unzipping it to dig inside for another piece of fruit.  You’ve been hungry for hours but had to use both hands to stay safe and far above the ground, it’s the perfect time to eat.  “How’s the baby?  Behaving himself?”

“He kept trying to follow you after you left,” comes Din’s response, and you stop with just your teeth piercing the flesh, wondering if you heard him right.  You actually open your jaw and pull the fruit away with just a bite mark in it.

“You’re joking.”  No fucking way, not that little demon.

“Wish I was,” he tells you solemnly.  “Made a fuss, tried to open the ramp a few times.  Didn’t cause any trouble after, just… pouted.”

That’s… that’s exactly how he responded the very first time Din left the kid on the ship with you instead of bringing him along.  He threw a fit, tried to ditch you for his dad multiple times, and then ultimately just looked cute and mopey with his limp ears until Din came back.  Do you think it’s just him rebelling against change?  That has to be it, right?

“He better not be giving you any hints about where I am,” you warn his father.  “I’d tell you to put him on but I don’t want the earpiece getting lost forever.”

You hear it.  The softest laugh—barely a breath, coming after years of learning to make it just quiet enough not to be registered by the helmet.  It gets picked up by the communicator in all its understated beauty when normally it’d be silent, and it’s just jarring enough to make you careless.

On your next step, you accidentally lift your foot too high and make a splash, and you already know you fucked up before he can say a single word.

“What’s that sound?”

You immediately stop moving, allowing the cool water to move as silently as possible past your stationary knees.  Shit.  “Uh.  What sound?”

You think he purposefully doesn’t say anything.  Probably because it feels a little like cheating, doesn’t it?  It’s to your disadvantage, having him be able to catch hints from your environment when he’s the one who made check-ins mandatory, but then again… how smart do you think he is?  Something tells you that he might not need to track you at all—what are the chances he stumbles upon this little stream and just naturally assumes you were clever enough to use it to hide your trail?  Did you waste time trying to engineer a vanishing act when it’s not going to matter regardless?

Oh well, too late now.  You quickly decide to change the subject.

“You should try the big purple fruit that one vendor sells when you get into Osiruu, by the way,” you tell him pleasantly, taking a big chomp out of it and then letting out an extended hum of delight that only really fucking good food or sex causes a person to make.  “I’m eating one right now, it’s so good.  Be the best thing you’ve ever tasted.”

“Mm.  Doubt it,”  immediately comes his low response.  Fucking immediately.

“Mando,” you gasp, scandalized and giddy enough that juice dribbles down your chin a bit.

“Are you having fun?”  Din asks, instead of pushing the conversation any further in that direction.  You don’t know if you’re thankful or disappointed with how quickly he decided to abort, but you take a moment to consider his question while swallowing and wiping your mouth.  Not the answer, you know the answer—but why he bothered to ask.  Did he know you were going to enjoy yourself as much as you have?  Your only possible lament is how you’re talking to him through a communicator instead of having him next to you.

“I am,” you say warmly.  “Be… be better if you were here, though.”

“Give me your coordinates,” Din proposes, and his voice is just low and rumbly enough to make you pause.

You’re really, really proud of yourself for only considering it for a few seconds before scoffing.  “Psh.  Nice try.”

“Was worth a shot,” he sighs through the earpiece, and you smile, taking another bite of fruit.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you offer, grinning at the implication.

“We’ll see,” you hear him return, and though his tone doesn’t really change, you know he’s probably rolling his eyes.  He won’t have to ask for your coordinates because he’ll already be there, but it’s nice to pretend for a while longer.

And then you both walk all through the night, sharing casual banter with each other for hours.  He never once implies he wants to disconnect, even when you hit him with more nonsensical questions—

“What’s your favorite food?”  (“I don’t have one.”)

“Okay, well what about just a food that you like?”  (“I don’t like food that much.”)

“What do you mean?  Everyone loves food.”  (“Not me.”)

“Alright, well um.  What’s your favorite color, then?”  (“I don’t have one, either.”)

“Come on, you must have some kind of color you like.”  (“What’s your favorite color?”)

“…Brown.”  (“Then that’s my favorite, too.”)

—until the sun rises and you both say your goodbyes.

***

Day 1–6:15am:

You resolve to waiting until you see another person to allow your feet to touch dry land, figuring the longer you stay untraceable, the better off you’ll be.  Your toes are wrinkly and your pantlegs and shoes have been drenched for hours, but then you finally spot a few fishermen standing upstream with their backs to you, speaking to each other in the dawning light.  Two look to be full-grown, but there’s a smaller one in the middle, maybe a teenage boy, and you pause for a second, looking at the riverbank next to them.  All their valuables—water, food, bait, extra rods, but also… their shoes.

Quietly, you reach into your backpack and remove the pair of men’s shoes you bought earlier.  The ones closest to you on the shore seem to be the smallest, so you sneak over as silent as possible and rapidly make an exchange, fitting the new ones on your wet feet before allowing yourself to touch dry land and then speed walking away.

The ones you left him are newer and roughly the same size anyways—yikes, maybe slightly smaller now that you’re thinking about it—but at least you have a back pathing.  If that kid decides to take your offering and the shoes fit, Din will follow him, and if he decides to go barefoot instead, he should still follow him, right?  You’re not really aiming to trick him outright, mostly you just want him to waste more and more time.  This likely wouldn’t work if there wasn’t a time limit attached to this hunt, but you’re going to do everything you can to disappear while he’s still far enough behind you.

***

Day 1–7:06am:

You get to Devain remarkably quickly after finding the correct road.  The pit stop is much bigger than Osiruu, big enough to call an actual town instead of just a settlement, but still not large enough to feel concealed.  You want a city.  This place at least has cars and ships moving about and overhead respectively, but you’re looking for somewhere with lines.  Somewhere that feels as cramped and busy as possible.

Still, you find a restroom to use and then decide to grab some more food for your trip, happily spotting your new favorite purple fruit in one of the shop windows.  As you’re reaching out to hand the storekeeper the appropriate amount of credits, Din’s gruff voice comes through the earpiece so suddenly that you jump, nearly dropping them all on the counter.  “Hey.”

“Holy shit, what?”  You gasp, earning a confused look from the lady in front of you.  You quickly shake your head at her and mouth an apology while Din grumbles in vexation.

“You were supposed to stay on foot.”

Ah.  So he got to the bus, then.  Okay.

“Oh,” you answer ambiguously, exchanging the money for your bag of food and giving her a polite smile.  Din stays completely mute while you grab your snack, stuffing the rest of the goods in your backpack and then turning to leave—mute for so long that you have to double check you didn’t accidentally do it yourself.

“…Smart girl,” you finally hear him say.  Quietly muttered under his breath, half proud of you and half frustrated for making his job more difficult.  “Which one of these is yours then?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you announce, before taking a large bite as you leave the establishment and talking with your mouth full.  “You really gotta try the purple fruit, it’s great.”

The communicator abruptly clicks to silence on his end without anything else and you laugh so unexpectedly that a few pieces of it fly out of your mouth.

***

Day 1–1:32pm:

Somewhere miles away from you, Din jerks to a halt in the middle of a forest.

He looks around the dirt floor, walks a few paces and hears the kid coo gently from his cradle.  Behind the visor, the red footprints he’s circling are the last ones around for hundreds of meters, as far as his display can read.

His helmet slowly tilts upwards, and follows the endless maze of thick branches overhead.

With the beskar hiding his face, no one can see the way he slowly breaks into a beautiful grin.

***

Day 1–9:51pm:

Oh.  Oh stars, you’re tired.

You’ve been walking all day without really seeing anything, not having any place to disguise your tracks in the wide open plains.  You could’ve stuck to the road, but you started to feel the exhaustion creep in during the early afternoon and you wanted to be far away from other travelers and potential danger if you needed to rest.  You knew this would be a long journey when you left Devain earlier—over a day’s walk, a group of children told you—you even tried skipping or jogging a bit to see if that would inspire more energy in you, but it didn’t help much.

The large cup of caf you bought while in town was drained hours ago and it didn’t help much either, probably because your exhaustion is more physical and not necessarily mental.  It just felt like a sweet warm drink to sip before you go to sleep, that’s how much the caf helped.  Still, you kept walking, kept moving forward even as you squinted in the setting sun, your feet aching from traveling for this long wearing unfamiliar shoes.  The last time you changed them was hours ago, pulling another bus maneuver but with an air shuttle instead.  Still, you don’t think it’ll be enough.  You don’t even know where Din is but you already feel like you’re losing ground just knowing that he’s the one in pursuit.

You feel it—the hair standing up on your neck, the tingles in your hands, the stirring of your tummy—whatever the incessant gogogo that your instincts happen to scream when you’re in first place but you know the person behind you is quickly closing in.  It’s day fucking one, it’s day one and you feel him in the wind as it brushes through your hair, you can’t even pause to rest because nobody knows better than you that he’s an absolute fucking machine when he wants to be.  The kid may have powers beyond that which can be explained by the laws of nature, but Din is a force all his own.  He drives you forward when everything inside you is telling you to stop.  He keeps you awake and determined when you just desperately need to rest.

But that only goes so far.  You’re bordering on two full days without sleep, and though you’d normally be able to suffer through, the constant movement is just brutal after being confined to a stationary ship for so long.

There’s a lone tree in the distance, you think.  It’s hard to see.  Not because it’s dark—well it is, just a bit darker tonight compared to last, but mostly because your eyelids have grown heavier and more burdensome than the bag around your shoulders.  That looks like a good place to just sit for a second, right?  Maybe eat some more food, try and wake yourself up?  Yeah, that’s a good idea, you’ll head towards the tree and just… sit…

***

Day 2–12:00am:

Completely dead to the galaxy and sitting on your ass with your back against rough bark, the comm clicks and Din’s voice comes through the earpiece.

“Wake up.”

It startles you enough to make you lurch forward and jerk your head around in a panic, looking for any flash of beskar so you can instantly break opposite to it.  You scramble on all fours to look around but you don’t see anything, not even behind the trunk when you crawl, and then you take a deep breath and use the bone of your wrists to rub your eyes vigorously after a moment, knowing your hands are filthy.  “Fuck, how’d you—”

“You’re always sleepy,” Din repeats, and you collapse back into the tree with an exhausted groan, not entertained but not even having the energy to get mad about it.

“I… I gotta sleep,” you tell him, already feeling your body let go of its tension and search for the darkness of unconsciousness once more.  “Shit.  How d’you… mm.  Stay awake all the time…”

“Sleep,” Din encourages, you can still hear him walking.  “You need rest.  I’ll see you soon.”

No—

“No,” you whine like a child, moaning and shoving yourself upright.  Maker, you’re trying to focus, but asking that of yourself is almost impossible right now.  Everything swims—you were dreaming, you think, but you can’t remember and it’s not important other than to emphasize how woozy you are.  Things still feel like a dream, somehow.

You think he can hear your struggling through the comm, because the sound of his footsteps pause.  “Go to sleep.”

“You go to sleep,” you tell him bluntly, giving your head a violent shake to try and wake you up.  You want to slap your own cheek but you don’t want him to hear it.  “I can’t sleep if you don’t.”

“I’ve have at least a couple more days in me before that happens,” Din murmurs, and you bet he knows exactly what the fuck he’s doing to you.  You start to slouch, hearing the voice he uses when he’s curled around your body in the darkness of the hull.  So warm, so gentle.  If you use your imagination, you can feel his fingers drawing slow circles on your back, the vibration of his low voice rumbling against your ear as you lay your head on his chest.  “If I hunt you the way I’d hunt a quarry, I’m going to find you before you wake up.”

“Then I’ll jus’ have to… not let tha’ happen,” you slur.  Even this close to unconsciousness, you try your best to throw in a misdirect.  “Already… paid for the bed an’ everything.”

“Sure you did.  You in another tree?”

You immediately frown even as your eyes drop closed, too tired to fight but still managing to sound upset.  “You makin’ fun of me?”  You ask him with a harumph.  Genuinely, you’re not smart enough to figure it out right now.

“Not hardly,” Din sighs, sounding… you don’t know.  Is that displeasure or not?  It’s not immediately clear.  Does it sound that way because you’re just dumb stupid right now?  Or because Din can’t actually decide how he feels about it?  “Lucky I heard water over the comm last night, I would’ve wasted hours in that forest.”

“Noooo,” you whine in response, trying to push yourself off the tree but tipping sideways in the process, “that’s not fair—”

“Fair wasn’t part of the rules,” he repeats himself again and… nope, you don’t even have the energy to snark something back.  You just grumble your best imitation of him while you do everything you can to heave yourself upright.  It’s pitiful, you lose your balance not even halfway through and just plop on the grass for a second and groan.

“Stop,” Din eventually orders through the earpiece, tired of it.  “What’s sixteen times itself?”

You’re loopy to the point where you don’t even question why he decided to ask you that.  You just furrow your brows for a second and try to think about it, before suddenly realizing you… don’t know, you can’t remember.  Multiplication tables and squares up to twenty are elementary to you, you know them by heart.  Sixteen times sixteen.  One forty-four.  No… no that doesn’t sound right, is that twelv—

You take way too long answering what would’ve been an immediate response two days ago.

“I’ll stop here for tonight,” Din tells you with a resolved sigh.  “I won’t move until you wake up.  Go to sleep.  You’re putting yourself in danger, you can’t even do the basics.”

Later, this moment will come back to you.  That problem isn’t basic, not many adults would be able to tell you very quickly that the answer is two fifty-six.  You don’t even think Din would.  You would, though.  On Naboo, you used rapidly applied trigonometry in your head to find his location, and that was barely two minutes after waking up.  You should know this.  And he knows you.

But for right now, you don’t pay it a single lick of attention.

“You promise?”  You ask quietly, voice incredibly small as your head tilts back towards the sky, already feeling yourself beginning to fall back into the darkness again.

“I promise,” he vows in return, gentle but a promise nonetheless.  He doesn’t have to do this.  You wouldn’t be able to keep going even if he didn’t offer up this temporary truce, but knowing he isn’t currently gaining ground on you makes the idea of sleep so much more welcoming, something you want to seek out instead of fight.

“Will you, um…” your expression furrows.  How do you say this?  You sigh, giving up before even trying to figure it out.  “I’m… not in a bed.  I’m outside.”

Din doesn’t say anything when you pause, and even through the haze wanting to take over, you know it’s going to sound needy.  You want him to stay.  Even in the midst of an adventure, you want him to stay, you want to hear him breathe as you rest, but there’s not really an integrous way to ask.

You don’t need to ask.

“I’ll keep the comm open and wake you when the sun rises,” comes his lulling baritone before you can elaborate anymore, enveloping you in comfort in this dreadfully uncomfortable bed of grass and dirt.  “Sleep, sweet girl.  I’m right here.”

***

Day 2–5:34am:

The sun shines over the hills and you lift your head up to squint your eyes at it, confused as fuck.  Looking down at your wrist to check the time in the warm rays, hands and clothes dirty from laying on the ground that long—you stay groggy and clueless for just a moment longer, before your heart lurches when you remember Din’s promise to you.

You open your mouth to address him but then catch yourself just in time.  Wait.  Don’t panic.  Listen.

Breathing.  Slow and relaxed through the earpiece, a rhythm now branded into your memory from months of nights spent in pitch black.  He’s… asleep.

Din is asleep?  Seriously?

You can count like… twice that this has happened, and one of those was because he got you to touch him just right after closing up a wound on his back, and his body couldn’t handle the strain and passed out.  You’re never awake when he’s asleep—you’re just not, it doesn’t happen.  Din… sleeps like it’s just a choice for him, he doesn’t ever really need it.  Almost like how he used to eat before he started sharing meals with you, he said he doesn’t even like food that much.  You think he just severed all of those things long ago, things that are basic fundamentals of survival and operated like a bounty droid that lost its voice box.  It’s… nice, feeling like you’re somehow giving back some of the things he lost.  Unintentionally encouraging him to find sleep again.  Making sure he eats more, listening to him speak.

You struggle to your feet as quietly as possible, hearing him continue to breathe slow and relaxed through the communicator.  This isn’t purposeful, you don’t think he actually allowed it.  He promised you, and Din doesn’t take shit back.  If he tells you he’ll do something and he doesn’t follow through, it’s either out of his control or a mistake, it’s never been purposeful.  He didn’t mean to fall asleep.

And, in other circumstances, you most definitely would not find some way to take advantage of this.  You’d let him sleep and do other things in the meantime—make some food for you and the kid, find something on the Crest that isn’t spotless and clean until it is, or just… lay there next to him until he woke up.  But… these circumstances are their own.  You have to capitalize now, this is your chance.  You passed out last night around… ten pm, you think it was, and then he promised to stop at midnight.  That means you have to walk at least two hours before he wakes up if you want to prevent any loss of ground—you don’t know where he stopped, he could be a few miles back even.

You have to find Nariss—you have to.  It’s your only option, if you keep trying to run, it’s just going to make it so much easier for him.  Now is the time to hide.  You know it hasn’t been long, it’s barely been two days since you first left the Crest but it feels like you’re already in endgame, already making moves in self-defense instead of actually planning your maneuvers ahead of time.

The capital should be half a day’s walk from here, then.  As long as you get there, you think you’ll be okay.

***

Day 2–8:28am:

Din’s groan suddenly comes through your ear.

You immediately stop, seeing a busy road in the distance and glad you haven’t quite made it there yet, before trying to disguise your voice as drowsy.  “Mm?”

“Shit,” he breathes, and you hear him get up, the sound of beskar moving as he grunts.

“Mpph,” you groan back, squinting your eyes to see if that’ll help sell the act.  “I thought you… Mando, fuck, y’said you’d wake me when the sun came up.”

“I… fell asleep,” he admits, voice rough with it, sounding just as confused as you felt earlier.

“You said you had days in you before that happened,” you murmur, taking a deep breath and stretching your arms up above your head.  Stars, your back hurts, how does he possibly manage to carry a fucking jet pack around all the time?

“Yeah, I…”  He pauses for a moment and you bite your lip, not liking the quiet as soon as you hear it.  “How long have you been up?”

Op.  Not good.  “Wha?”

He’s not falling for it.  “How long?”

How in Maker’s name?  This is impossible.  How can you hope to hide from him when you can’t even manage to hide the smallest fucking truth from him?  Can you salvage this somehow?  “…Like ten minutes.”

“Least a few hours, then,” he sighs, and you get ready to hit him with the same line he used when you complained about his leg-up, opening your mouth as soon as you hear him speak.  “That was smar—”

“Fair wasn’t part of—”

Oh.  Well.  Apparently you didn’t have a reason to feel shitty about deciding to haul ass while he was passed out even though you kind of ended up doing so anyways.  There was no agreement besides that he wouldn’t move until you woke up.  Reason is on your side, but it still feels a bit like you fucked him over.  Is that valid or are you just so used to being nice that putting yourself first feels like a wrong you’ve committed?

“Don’t feel bad,” Din tells you, and you hear a soft coo in the background.  It makes you smile the smallest bit, your shoulders relaxing even as they ache from carrying your pack around.  “You should feel bad about stealing that poor kid’s shoes, though.  He walked home barefoot.”

You smack your forehead.  “It was just….”

“Yeah,” he scoffs when you don’t finish your sentence, and you can’t keep back a giggle.  “Alright, I’m up now.  See you when you get here.”

And then the communicator clicks, and you’re…

Uh.  What the fuck was that?

No.  Nope, you’re not going to get played.  That was a brilliant attempt at fucking with you, but you’re not falling for it this time.  You’ve grown since that night on Canto Bight, you know him, he can’t just say shit to fuck with your head and then smile at your flailing response from under the helmet anymore.  You normally would stew in that last comment until it got to you, made you make a mistake most likely, but the more you think about it, the more certain you are that he has nothing.  He was just trying to see if you’ll abandon your entire plan just by implying he already knows it.  That’s beginner shit, you’re not falling for it.  Din wanted to leave the conversation with the upper-hand since you gained at least an hour of extra ground while he slept.  You’re certain of it.

***

Day 2–12:35pm:

Nariss is big.  Nowhere near the size of Coruscanti sectors of course, where billions of people are packed from surface to exosphere and require oxygen recirculation towers to breathe at the very top, but just slightly bigger than you expected.  It’s bustling and you haven’t even made it through the city gates yet—you’re approaching them and the large number of people waiting in line, seeing buildings stretch out for miles in front of you and grinning.  Yes, this will work nicely.

As you peek over shoulders in the sizable crowd, you see only two or three people allowing people to enter one at a time… is that a biometric scanner?

Oh.  That looks good and it also doesn’t look good at the same time.  If Din’s safety meant nothing to you, you’d have no trouble whatsoever getting in line and waiting to do a retinal scan, but you immediately pause and consider the potential consequences.

Your dumb ass almost weighs the option of clicking the communicator on and asking his opinion.  You’d give away your location in a heartbeat (if he doesn’t know it already) just because you’re worried he’d… what, exactly?  Stand in line for an hour, take his helmet off in front of a crowd of people, have the system ping his scan, and then hang out and wait for New Republic reinforcements to show?  You have to stop worrying about him.  He’s not a baby, he can handle himself and you need to stop considering the possibility of taking a loss just so he doesn’t have to, even if the self-destructive sentiment feels ingrained in your nature to do so.

So you wait in line, moving at a slow pace but at least moving.  While you’re standing there quietly, a man in front of you decides to strike up a conversation.  You don’t come from a place with an excess of people, but the ones in your sector were friendly and did this kind of thing often, so perhaps for that reason, you decide to chat.

“Do you have some place to stay?”  He asks at one point.  So far the conversation has revolved around him—every time he asks about you, you deflect.  He doesn’t need to know.  “Nariss isn’t kind to drifters.”

This catches your attention, though.  This is relevant.  “What does that mean?”

“It’s expensive?”  He scratches his blonde hair, giving you a soft smile.  “Food, housing, all of it is way out of my price-range.  I stay with my uncle and work overnights at the eastern docks.  It’s not much, but it’s enough to keep a roof over our heads.  We used to live in Gibrath, but then we moved to the city because he’s a good architect and they’re always expanding.  It’s nice, of course, but really expensive.”

He’s handsome, you think… in kind of a boyish, charming way.  Blonde hair, sparkly blue eyes.  He doesn’t look much older than you, and maybe in another lifetime you would’ve found him appealing, but… you like darker features, you think.  Someone a little less expressive.  This guy… talks a lot.

“I thought this moon was a safe world for people displaced by the Empire,” you offer, taking a step forward as the entire crowd shifts.

“Sanctuary II is,” he comments.  “The capital is safe, too—what, with all the orangies walking around,” he tilts his head to two jumpsuited guards trying to organize the glob of people so the line can move faster, rolling his eyes as if they’re some kind of joke.  “But not… welcoming, not if you’re looking for a place to settle.  You would’ve been better off in G’ila.”

“Is there anywhere you know that would take me for free?”  You ask.  You have quite a few credits left, but you don’t think it’s a good idea to stay in an inn.  It’ll be the first place Din checks.

“Are you a virgin?”  He returns, and you immediately pull back at the unexpected question, your heart thudding at the possibility of danger.  The man’s sandy eyebrows shoot up at your response and he quickly apologizes—“Heavens, I’m so sorry to ask like that!  It’s just… the only place I know is the Holy Keja Orphanage on the northern outskirts.  Their signs say they only house children and teenagers, but I’ve heard from other girls your age that they’ll accept any woman as long as they’ve stayed pure in the eyes of the Maker.”

“Oh,” you say after a moment, leaning sideways to see just a few people standing in front of him.  Good, this is almost over.  “Um.  Yep.  That’s me.”

He smiles at you once more, giving you a nod.  “When you get to the city, just go straight through.  It’s about a mile outside of the gates, no more than a day��s walk from this side of town.”

Okay, that’s… interesting.  You think about it while you thank him and begin to exchange polite goodbyes, moving up another step until he’s next in line.  That might actually be a good move.  Din could spend a long time in the city without ever finding you.  Smart quarry go to populated places, but… smarter quarry defy the expectations placed upon them, right?  He knows you’re smart, and even though you’re confident his “See you when you get here” was purely psychological fuckery, that also implies… at the very least, that he’s assuming there is a here to get to.  Meaning, he knows you’re not going into the wilderness to evade him.  He’s not going to comb the outskirts when there are so many places to hide within the city gates, with an entire perimeter of New Republic guards stationed around it.  Even if he does, the signs will say only children and teenagers—categories you do not fall into.

The unnamed man is soon ushered forward but you stop him quickly.  “Oh, by the way.  I doubt this will happen, but if a man in a big metal suit with a tiny green baby happen to ask you the same thing, please don’t tell him what you just told me.”

He furrows his eyebrows at you and cocks his head, but smiles and agrees nonetheless.

***

Day 2–5:43pm:

You have an idea.

You’ve been working on it all afternoon, but you were hit with it the second you were looking for another pair of shoes to buy and find a clever way of putting on.

The cheapest ones were ridiculously overpriced, blonde dude was right.  You blinked down at the tag and asked the salesman where the cheapest shoes in this part of town were, and then he just wrinkled his nose at you and shooed you out of the store.  Granted, you slept in dirt and spent two days walking—you bet you reek, but he didn’t have to be like that.

Though, the man’s displeasure with you had an upside.  You were holding a possible pair of pants and a shirt to buy when he threw you out, not yet having checked the atrocious pricetag on them, but it appeared as if he’d rather let you have them for free than rip them from your… admittedly, pretty filthy arms.  Oh well, you weren’t complaining.  Fancy clothes for free, score.

But now you’re here, and you have the best idea.  You don’t need to change shoes, not yet.  Why?  Because you’ve figured out how to turn your incessant detriment into an advantage.

You’re in the middle of downtown, you think, maybe just some random crowded square, and there’s an inn in front of you.  It’s fucking enormous, and you already know it’s gotta be incredibly expensive just looking at the sheer number of stories.  It’s an eyesore, it sticks out.  But that’s okay, because you’re only planning on staying for a night.

It’s also… right next to New Republic headquarters.  Or fuck, at least a station of some sort, because they’re swarming in and out of the constant crowd, passing by the valet doors.

At first you naturally wanted to steer away from the jumpsuits, since you know they’re bad news for Din, but then you remember what he said before you left.  I’m only telling you so that you’ll know your advantage and find a way to exploit it.  I can’t be seen by any officers, or they might arrest me.

It’s to your advantage, he said so himself.  Everything lines up perfectly—the street is bustling, the inn is well protected, it’s nice—it’s everything you’re looking for.

And there’s another upside, see.  An omnipresent, omniscient ghost in the form of a communicator clipped to your wrist right now.  If Din is always going to be able to predict you, he’s always going to know when you’re lying, always be able to read you… then you’ll just have to let him.

Let him know.  Let him know exactly where you are.  Right in the middle of the most populated street you’ve seen thus far, a constant barrage of people walking by and New Republic officers patrolling.  If you were planning on staying in the city, this would probably be your best option to hide.  He could waste days here if you’re smart about it.

The concierge doesn’t appear too pleased with your lack of cleanliness and neither do you, honestly, but at least he allows you to book a suite for the night.  It’s… not as bad as you were originally assuming, credits-wise, but it’s worth more than half your stash and you’re going to have to conserve from this point on.  It shouldn’t be too bad—your destination is a holy orphanage, you’re sure they’ll have some extra food and a bed for you even if it won’t be ideal.  Still, you think you’re going to enjoy some lavish experiences for once in your life before you go.

***

Day 2–11:54pm:

Alright, so this was the best idea ever.  This is the shit.

You’re leaning back against a fluffy stack of pillows, squeaky clean from an absolutely glorious bath and watching the flickering drama on the large holonet display in front of you.  You don’t have any idea what’s going on, as it’s being broadcast in Rodian, but you haven’t been able to change the frequency because it’s so fucking intense—somebody’s sister is their mother, you think?  No, that must be a mistranslation, right?

You’re also in a robe.  Yes, there is a motherfucking robe in here.  And… and slippers, it’s like a dream.  Do people normally wear slippers in bed?  You do.  Hell, maybe you should stay here, screw the credits and the chase.  This mattress is even better than the one on Naboo and you’re basking in the luxury after being outdoors for so long.

The lights are off other than that and you’ve opened the drapes wide, knowing you’re on something like the fifteenth floor and nobody would be able to see you anyways.  You just like being able to turn your head and look out at the sky.  Violent and periwinkle tonight.  You wonder if he’s looking, too.

Luckily, you snap yourself back out of it and glance down at the time on your communicator, quickly pressing a button on the remote to mute the Rodian show and then opening the line the moment the hour changes.

Day 3–12:00am:

“Hiya, Shiny,” you say before anything else, laying back and running a few fingers through your damp hair.  Your eyes close against the flickering light, taking a slow, relaxed breath.  Maker, this feels nice.

“You sound happy,” Din comments.  Astute, you feel happy.  Well… you’d obviously feel happier if he was here.  Your eyes flick over to the open bathroom door, still steamy from your bubble bath earlier, imagining him walking through it completely naked and then climbing over you on the covers.  You can only really picture it from the neck down—no, hang on… you can see his shaggy brown curls, that one spot on his forehead you know, how his facial hair would be dark and frame his mouth.  No face, though.  Missing just one fraction of him from your imagination, feeling incomplete but also somehow… complete in a way.

“I feel better after sleeping last night,” you tell him, purposefully leaving out the softness of the sheets underneath you, the sheer comfort of all this extravagance.  You don’t need it, you’ll never need it, but it feels nice to have for once.

“I do, too,” he replies quietly, and your eyes flutter closed.  You… miss him.  This mattress would feel softer with him next to you.  He’d probably be able to translate this show for you, even though you already know he’d fucking hate it.  You can imagine it—you with your eyes closed, him propped up on an elbow next to you and grumbling vague descriptions of the nonsense happening on screen just to hear your chuckles.  Adventures are great, but maybe they aren’t as great by yourself, you think.

“You should sleep tonight, too,” you encourage, but he scoffs.

“Not a chance,” Din mutters.  “Oh, before I forget, we need to charge the communicators today.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”  You ask him, glancing at all the multiple wireless charging outlets stationed around you.  “I’m in the middle of nowhere.”

He doesn’t even take a fucking second before responding.  “Good one.”

You grin up at the ceiling, warmth flooding you.  You love him.  Literally every single time, he just knows.  Your curiosity is too overwhelming after this happening so often.  Your plan to distract him relies on him being able to read you, but that doesn’t prevent you from wondering how he does it so accurately, time and time again.  “How do you know?”

“You slept outside last night,” he immediately tells you, like that should mean anything to you.

Does he… does he truly know you well enough to know how much your back and shoulders hurt today?  How much you were aching for a shower and clean clothes?  A bed to sleep on that isn’t dirt or metal?  You give into the accurate prediction with shameless honesty, not caring if he knows it’s the truth.

“This bed is soft,” you murmur gently, dragging your hand across the mattress next to you.  “You should be here.  I’d make you feel good.”

Admittedly, your comfort is making you a bit drowsy and you said it in the easiest way possible, but you didn’t necessarily mean it sexually.  Well… you sort of did—you’d make him feel so good in this bed—but what you meant was more… comforting.  He could take a bath, or a shower, and get all the grime off him.  He could feel clean and unburdened, take a break instead of constantly moving around.  The baby could have a whole bed to himself if he wanted, though you know he’d probably want to be on this one instead.  You could all look at the sky together.

Din is quiet for a little bit, before his voice comes back through the earpiece.  “Are you in an inn?”

“No,” you say, a little too quickly.  Perfect, that sounded just right for a lie.  You are lying, you absolutely are in an inn, the only difference is that you want him to catch on that it’s a lie, so… why does he take way too long before responding?

“Hm.”

What the fuck—why… how is it even physically possible?  He read you that deeply from one single word?  You’re not sure if he’s somehow psychic and figured the whole fucking thing out or if he just knows there’s something off, but it’s still enough to blow you away.

“Are you doing this on purpose?”  You blurt without thinking.

“Doing what?”  He grunts, sounding like he’s stepping over something, his breath changing intensity as he walks.

“If I look out this window right now, am I gonna see you standing out there just messing with me?”  You don’t even know what to believe anymore.  How do you beat this?  If you don’t want him to know the truth, he’ll figure it out, and if you do want him to know the truth, he’ll still figure it out.  His perception is unbelievable.

After a moment of silence, he murmurs gently through the comm.  “I thought you said you were in the middle of nowhere.”  It sounds like he’s smiling.

“I…”  your eyes shift around awkwardly, “am…”

Din lets out a deep sigh.  He’s right, that was bad, even for you.  “I found your bed a few hours ago,” he admits.  You close your eyes as you listen to him make his way closer to you, step by step.  “I’m nowhere near the city yet.  You have time to sleep.”

Your expression furrows and you frown.  “Why are you helping me?”

“Why do you want me to think you’re in an inn?”  He tosses back, and you huff.

“Because I’m trying to outsmart you but you make it really fucking difficult,” you grumble, not happy about him catching on so quick.

“You’ve also gained about four hours on me since we started.”  His voice is gruff.  You don’t know if he thinks it’s a good thing or a bad thing.  “You should give yourself more credit.  I thought I would’ve found you by now, never expected you to get all the way to Nariss.  It’s… not good for me.”

The honesty creeping in makes you go soft.  It makes you want to reciprocate, even if it’s dumb and you haven’t thought it all the way through.  “Wanna know a secret?”

“Tell me.”  His voice is a bed all its own, deep and gentle and safe.

You say it before you lose the nerve.  “I might just turn around and walk back.”

His footsteps stop and you hear a small sound in the background, a quiet little baby noise that suddenly makes your heart ache.  You’re comfortable but incredibly aware of how alone you are.  People pass by on the streets below, cars and hoverbikes honk in the distance and you’re by yourself.  For the first time in over a year, like you have been for years, you’re by yourself.

“Sweet girl,” Din sighs, and all of a sudden… you can feel his arms around you with it.  You feel so… known, somehow.  Every sentiment you could’ve possibly given in your last sentence, he relays his understanding back with his.  He makes you feel loved with it.  “Never wants to run.”

You don’t say anything, because you suddenly realize you’re totally fucking whipped, up down and sideways for his metal ass and the little floating grimlin that follows him around, and you would throw away the fifth quarry, adventure, the sky—literally everything if you could be with the both of them right now.

But again.  You don’t have to say anything, he already knows.  “Give me your coordinates.”

Your eyes pop open and you bite your lip.  Oh, stars.  You hate that you do genuinely consider it.  He could be here, and very soon.  With the jet pack, both of them could be here in less than an hour, probably.  He could take a shower.  Watch these stupid shows with you all night without needing to be on the move, help you build a bed of pillows for the kid on top of this one.  You could be with both of them again, even if it’s only for a little while.

“Ask me again tomorrow,” you finally whisper, looking down at the soft white fabric of your robe, the way one of your slippers is falling off your foot as the holonet program continues to play on mute.

Din’s footsteps eventually start up again, and you both relax in silence together.  You, squinting at the screen because your eyes are getting heavy; him, continuing to travel step by step and gain ground on you.  Let him come.  You’ll be long gone by the time he even makes it to the gates.

It’s been about ten minutes of shared, quiet existence before you hear him bite into something and chew, and your face suddenly lights up.

“Are you eating the purple fruit?”  You ask, your slipper falling off with excitement.  You don’t know why, but it’s like… you’re stoked for him.  Just as proud of him for doing normal things as he does when you step out of your own comfort zone.  You like to think you’re both better that way.  Balanced.

“Mm,” Din replies with his mouth full, and you grin down at your bare legs peeking through the robe while he swallows.

“Is it not the best thing you’ve ever tasted?”  Your voice goes a little breathless with it, and you hear his footsteps stop once more.

“Close,” Din murmurs lowly, sending a small shudder through you.  It suddenly feels a bit warm in here, doesn’t it?  This morning was one of the rare times you were awake while he was asleep… it’s almost always the other way around, and just from the implication in his tone, you’re reminded of the thing he likes doing most when you’re resting.  Maybe he’ll let you do it to him, next time around.  The thought gets you hot enough to warrant the other slipper falling to the floor.

“You’re alone, right?”  You whisper, knowing he must’ve pulled the helmet up to take a bite of the fruit.  He must still be following your path through the hillside, then, not yet reaching the road.

“The kid is awake,” Din tells you, sounding like he’s trying to stop everything before anything starts.  His words are short and clear in their meaning, but…

This has a very small chance of success, you already know.  “…Do you want to—”

“No,” he responds quickly, already way ahead of you.  “We can’t.”

Something in his voice… you don’t know, there’s just something there that makes you feel just a little reckless.  Should you push it?  You’re by yourself in this suite, what can go wrong?

“You can’t,” you correct him quietly, shifting around on the bed just a bit and biting your lip.  It’s a thrill—being able to tease him without having him in front of you, drive him crazy knowing you’re just out of his reach.  “But I can do whatever I want, can’t I?”

There’s a pause, a tense and knowing silence suspended between you before he eventually speaks.

“I’d be real careful,” Din mutters low in warning, but what is he gonna do?

“What are you gonna do?”  You whisper to him devilishly.  Quiet and breathy, beginning to snake your hand down.  Stars, your heart is already pounding.  You’d only likely mouth off like this in person just to see how hard he’d fuck you, but this feels extra dangerous for some reason.  He’s stuck, he can’t do anything about it right now, and you know it’s playing with fire.  “You could hang up if you don’t want to hear me.  Or you could find me before I’m finished.  Come make me stop.”

Din doesn’t say anything but he very much does not hang up, nor does he come busting into your room like you imagine he’d like to.  The sheer fact that your door is still closed and locked tells you for sure that he isn’t just hanging out in the hallway, just letting you have your fun.

You start pressing your fingers against your robe at the apex of your thighs, humming at how nice the pressure feels.  You don’t even spread your legs or push the fabric away, you just sigh into it and wiggle your hips a bit, pressing hard against your clit and listening to him breathe.

“Do you want to listen?”  You ask quietly after a moment, and Din still doesn’t respond.  Likely because there’s not a real answer, both yes and no would imply the wrong thing.  “I’ll talk.”

Still, nothing from him.  Dead silence through the comm.  You’re starting to understand.  For two days, you’ve felt like he could read your every thought just by the cadence of your voice.  He’s staying quiet so you can’t even attempt to do the same to him—if he doesn’t talk, you can’t find a weakness and pounce on it, you can’t feel any more confident or reassured about your own ability to read him.

You’ll just have to push a little harder, then.

“Hm.  If only this fancy communicator could…” you pause to look down at your wrist for a second, studying the menu.  You don’t think you’ve ever really looked at it, you never had the time.

Din’s growl is sudden and sharp through the earpiece.  “No, don’t even think—”

“Ah,” you smile, tapping the face and immediately finding the correct screen.  “Take pictures.”

He’s deadly quiet for a moment, and you bite your lip with excitement.  When he does speak, his voice is a pure threat, chilling you to the bone as much as it burns deep in your tummy.  “…You wouldn’t.”

Ignoring him, you suddenly locate a menu option that sounds phenomenal right now.  “Oh shit, does this holocall?  Or is it a video option?”

“Holo,” he says very seriously while you study the lack of complexity of the built-in camera in skepticism, “and the kid is awake, so you can’t—”

“Oh, it’s definitely a video,” you unclip it from your wrist and he curses as you sit up, and then you press a button and wait impatiently for him.  “Pick up.”

Din takes forever before responding, and you hear the continuous beeps as it attempts to connect, before his quiet baritone rumbles in your ear.  “What if I don’t?”

You feel your mouth pull down at the corners, not so much frowning as you are dubious.  He’s going to turn down the opportunity to see you and your surroundings when his whole goal is locating you?  Really?

“You sure?”  You ask softly, raising an eyebrow.  “You’d get to see me, where I am.  What I’m…” your eyes dip down to the loose robe riding your curves, your skin glowing against the white fabric, “…wearing.”

The beeps continue on for a few more seconds, until they finally stop.  You frown down at the black screen of the communicator, not seeing anything at all.  Did he decline the transmission request?  No… there’s a little red light next to the small lens that wasn’t there before.  Why can’t you see him?

“Why can’t I see you?”  You ask.  You want to look at him looking at you, you don’t want to always be stuck on the other side of a one-way mirror.

“I… have it linked to my helmet, but it only has a front-facing camera,” Din tells you after a moment, and he sounds… slightly out of breath.  “Easier to see, the watch is useless now besides the controls.”

Wait, does that mean you’re… being shown on the inner-display of his helmet instead of his wrist?  Right in front of his eyes, as if he were actually here with you?

“Nobody can see me but you?”  You clarify, and when he doesn’t respond, you bite your lip and lean back into the pillows.  You lift the watch up slightly, extending your arm out until you can get the angle as wide as possible.  “Can you see… this?”  You ask softly, before hooking your fingers in the collar of your white robe and slowly pulling it open for him.

“Where are you?”  Din asks instead, and you hear his footsteps through the earpiece, as if he’s walking away from something very quickly.

You don’t answer him, parting the soft fabric until your breasts are completely exposed and you sigh, closing your eyes and snuggling back into the pillows once more.  “I’ll tell you where I am if you keep watching me.”

“Why?”  Din grits in frustration, coming back around to the same dangerous question he had earlier.  “Why would you do that?”

“I don’t know.”  You slowly tilt the camera down until you can spread your legs and the robe falls open with the movement, letting him see your pussy peeking through in the flickering light of the muted screen in front of your bed.  “Can you see that?”

“Yeah,” he says shakily on the end of a breath, and you feel yourself get wet.  Fuck, he sounds so fucking tempted, the sight making his voice come without any of the self-assuredness as it usually has, but… he could also just be saying that.  How do you know he’s telling you the truth?

“What am I doing?”  You test him, lifting your knee just the slightest bit so you really give him something to look at.

“Spreading your legs for a camera,” Din responds without hesitation, voice scraping against your ear, making you shiver and your nipples harden.  Fuck, the way he says it, like it’s wrong and bad even though he’s the only one who can see or hear you do it… it makes you feel even more naughty and emboldened.

You bite your lip and reach your hand down to spread your lips for him, too, hearing his breath immediately catch on the other end.  Already your pussy makes your fingers slick against your soft skin, the sash of your robe still holding the fabric together on your body but also loose enough to allow it to part in the right places and reveal everything you want him to see.

“I am in an inn,” you whisper teasingly, letting your finger drop to brush against your clit and then sighing in soft delight.  Oh stars, that feels nice, it feels so good to treat yourself after being completely nomadic for two days, getting to be clean and soft and comfortable while you feel this pleasure, and Din’s voice growls through your communicator like you’re doing something painful to him.

“Fuck,” his breathing picks up while you begin circling your clit.  “Where?”

“Nariss,” comes your quiet moan, turning your head on the pillow to blink slowly at the camera.  Wanting him to see your eyes as well as your finger slowly dip into where you’re the hottest, caressing the sensitive skin there knowing he’s watching.

“Where in Nariss?”  Din’s voice is as pleading as it is sharp, desperately trying to keep either you or himself on track.

“I don’t know,” you say again.  Truthfully, you don’t—you don’t know the cross streets, you don’t know the part of town, you don’t know much of anything at all besides physical descriptors.  You quickly move the camera to the side as far as you can hold it and let him see you from a different angle with the window as a backdrop.  “But the window is open.  And there are lots of people outside.”

“Can they see you?”  Din immediately challenges.  Of course they can’t, you’re fifteen stories up and the room is darker than it is outside with all the city lights and swirling colors of the sky, but you suppose he doesn’t know that.  You think he just needs to relax—if this is what he’s always like during hunts, you now know exactly why he comes back to you all riled up and tense.

“I don’t know,” you murmur back, starting to rub your clit a little faster, trying to make it feel like him.  It doesn’t—your fingers aren’t large or strong enough to give you those perfect circles; you just feel like you’re meandering yourself towards ecstasy instead of picking you up and hauling your ass there like he does, but it’s okay.  Hearing Din’s rough breathing come through the earpiece, knowing his hands are probably clenched tight into fists, wondering if he’s hard yet… all of it culminates into a power trip unlike any you’ve experienced recently.  It makes you bold, tells you to open your mouth.  “Does it matter?  I’d still let you fuck me against it if you were here.”

“Stop it,” comes his growl, but what is he gonna do?

Your leg lifts a little wider so you can slowly slide your fingers down and push two of them inside yourself, and Din swears as you moan, “Come find me.”

“Give me your coordinates—”

“Are you giving up?”  You offer breathlessly, lifting your eyebrows and your hips up slightly at the question, but you’re… not expecting the extended silence following.  You assumed a growled no would immediately come next, or just another empty threat said with enough force to make you tremble with excitement, but not… nothing.

The response makes you pause just for a second, easing your fingers out and dragging them across your thigh to clean some of the wetness off before extending your arm out towards the communicator.  Din stays quiet while you navigate through the menu with trembling fingers, eventually finding your coordinates and hovering over the unchecked share location box.

You wait with your lip bit, confident he knows what you’re doing and you don’t have to narrate or repeat yourself.  Fuck, you knew you were considering abandoning this entire adventure just to be next to him again, but you had no idea.  No fucking idea that it could ever be a thought in his own mind as well.  You… assumed he likes this, hunting is what he does for a living and he’s the one who conceived of the idea in the first place.  Is he just that aroused by you?  Or is there something more?

“No,” Din eventually murmurs, and you immediately navigate out of the menu so you don’t accidentally press anything catastrophic, before pulling your hand away from the communicator with a resolved hum and settling back into the pillows again.  Making sure to look directly into the lens even if your eyelids are heavy with heat and desire, you slowly lick your fingers and then reach down once more.

His deep, shaky breath is so telling.  Exhausted after all this, but still not hanging up, still doing his hardest to tough it out when he’s only miles away from you and has jets attached to his back.  You don’t want to drag it out but you also do, you want to be kind but something about Din makes you also want to be as formidable as possible.  You’ll never be able to threaten like he does, you’ll never have anyone cower just because you walked into the room, you’ll never be as powerful or strong as he is, but you can still put up a fucking fight against him in your own way.

You whimper softly, your breathing beginning to find a quicker pace as surely as your fingers do.  It begins to spark and build, a red hot flame being kindled by the knowledge that he’s as close as possible without actually being close, right here with you when he always seems so far away.

“Mando,” you whisper, though your expression pulls inwards just slightly because it… in a scenario as sensual and intimate as this, it almost doesn’t sound righ—

“Din,” he whispers back, so quiet you almost don’t hear it, like he almost doesn’t want to but has to anyways, and then you just start to fucking burn.

“D-Din,” you whisper instead, trying to keep your voice as quiet as possible through the rising swell.  He’ll be able to see it, you think.  The way your tummy and chest start to heave, how your body begins to brace for it—and yeah, Maker, he sees it, because his voice suddenly changes.

“Stop,” Din growls roughly, knowing exactly how you cum—knowing exactly what it looks like, the way it sounds in your breathing, what it tastes like, how it feels on the inside.  It’s been so long since you’ve touched bliss without him, months and months since you brought yourself to completion on the floor of the Crest by yourself, and though he’s rarely ever denied you, your own high on newfound control causes it to slip.  He barks your name and tells you to stop once more, but it’s too late.

“I’m gonna cum, Din,” you breathe out—

“Don’t—”

It tears through you, rapid and surging, and he snarls a curse, something loud snapping and thudding and… did he just punch something?  You can’t think, it’s delicious and hard as fuck and everything you needed after two days of near constant movement and thought with little rest, and you bite your lip to keep quiet but a pained whimper still shoves its way out of your tense vocal cords regardless.  It sounds like it hurts because it does hurt; the orgasm shatters your body into pieces and you’re left trembling by yourself on this soft bed, wishing he was with you on a metal one.

You sink into the mattress in the moments following, sluggish and exhausted and just conscious enough to keep the watch facing you.  You bet the camerawork was terrible, shaky at best, but you can’t find it in yourself to care right now.  You just lay there and listen to his harsh breathing while you work to slow your heart rate, reveling in the filthy little show you just gave him and wanting to finish it out properly.

“Come find me,” you breathe out once more, lazing soft and naked for him, blinking dazedly at the watch as you pan it over you.  Your thighs are still twitching and there’s a thin sheen of sweat clinging to you, but you drag a finger through your swollen lips and carefully wipe the wetness across one of your nipples.  “Clean me up.”

“Fuck,” Din suddenly spits through the earpiece, furious.  “You think—y-you think—”

“What?”  You hum, basking in the afterglow and so, so curious.  Truly, you’re dumb as fuck, you have no clue what you’re thinking, but if anybody would be able to tell you, it’s him.

There’s a moment where his breathing stops.  It’s completely silent on the line, before you hear another few heavy footsteps on his end pick up and then halt just as quickly.

“You think you can taunt me?”   He murmurs, dangerous and deadly quiet.  “Show me exactly where you are, disappear and then make me waste forever trying to get there?  You think that’s gonna work?”

Your eyebrow lifts, considering.  He… may or may not have predicted your strategy perfectly, but his insight has stopped surprising you by now.  “Maybe…”

“Maybe you shouldn’t fall asleep tonight.”

Ooh.  That one sends goosebumps down your arms, but you’ve gained four hours on top of a twelve hour headstart.  He can’t scare you with that tone, not when you’re still woozy with pleasure and he isn’t right in front of you.  Instead of wilting beneath the hard threat, you just blink gently at the communicator, finding strength in being the only one to get him this mad when he’s always so composed, this talkative when he barely says a word.  “Maybe I’ll just stay here then?”

“Maybe you wanted me to know you’re in an inn because you already found someplace to hide that isn’t one,” Din reasons very, very adeptly.  Stars, your heart subtly begins to pick up, your legs continuing to tremble as the small red light next to the lens stares you down.  “Can’t be planning to stay with someone you just met because you’d already be there, can’t be going to a hostel because you found the one city on this moon built for commerce and not aid.  Not staying in another inn, you can’t afford it—the view looks high up, that robe is expensive, and you already bought food and at least five pairs of shoes in two days.  I don’t think the place you found is even in Nariss.  You think you can outsmart me, sweet girl?”

The chill down your spine doesn’t reach your eyes, you won’t let it.  You just feel yourself smile, tilting your head at him and licking your lips while your finger brushes one of your nipples, but Din doesn’t accept your silence the way you’ve always accepted his.  He wants an answer from you, right now, and it’s clear in the dark rumble of his voice, the danger slowly brewing beyond what you originally planned for.

“Tell me,” he orders, unamused and leaving no room to disobey.  “How long do you think you can keep running?”

Your eyelashes flutter, suddenly deciding… why not?  What have you got to lose?  Nothing that you didn’t already go into this situation completely expecting to lose anyways.  What’s the worst he can do?  Find you?

You close your eyes, pinching one of your nipples and wondering if you might just go for another one since he’s still here.  “Ask me again tomorrow.”

But then, instead of immediately responding, you just hear Din’s footsteps suddenly pick up, faster than any pace you’ve been able to keep over the past few days.  You don’t think it sounds like a run necessarily, but you know that his legs and strides are far longer than yours and it’s probably pretty much equivalent to a run for you.  You hear the rhythm of your demise speeding up, coming closer and closer, and everything in you both fears it and welcomes it.

“We’ll see,” he tells you, and then the red light vanishes and your earpiece clicks to silence.

***

Day 3—2:23am:

Even though it takes you much longer to do so than it normally would on a bed so large and comfortable, after such an exciting interaction and not being used to flickering light when you try to sleep but wanting to experience the rarity anyways, you’re eventually able to pass out.

But, not even a few minutes into a restless dream, you turn over and accidentally knock your communicator off the wireless charging station on the side table.  It blinks with four percent battery life.

***

To be continued!!

#the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian #smut #reader insert #fanfic #rough day #no-droids #tw: stalking

[btsydtrash]

Euphoric Endeavours [17]

vampire bts, poly ot7 x uni student yn

(AN: Hi, all! This story is actually already posted on AO3. I hope that you like it!)

also, i don’t have a tag list, but if you follow/put notifications, you’ll get alerted. tysm loves!

find me on twitter        word count: 2.1K

(angst / fluff / smut / yandere / gore)

Chapter 17: ‘Invigoration’

Classes start back the following week and you are glad for the change in pace. Your creative writing class got swapped out for a history module that you weren’t over the moon about taking, but still, the change felt good.

Your job at the café had been waiting for you after your sudden decision to go back home, and you were welcomed with open arms, considering the Christmas period had been a hellish experience, you took on plenty of shifts to ease your guilt and make things easier on Areum.

That all meant you hadn’t been able to see the boys at all for two weeks, despite being back in the same city. You had muted the chat, so you didn’t see when they messaged you, but sometimes you would peek in. Really, you hadn’t been avoiding them, per se, but you weren’t exactly chasing them down either, still tender from your own feelings of guilt.

But now, rather than simply being because of Mei Li’s death, you also felt guilty about how you reacted to them. And their secret.

It came to you one night, that if they really didn’t often expose their affliction to outsiders, because they feared the consequences of their vulnerability, you had proven them all right. Your reaction to their secret had been proverbial spittle in their faces, and you felt bad.

“Are you done with housekeeping, YN?” Areum asks, snapping you out of your reverie.

You look up and nod, a perfunctory smile working its way onto your face. “I can sign out now.”

“Okay, thanks. You were a real help tonight,” she says, putting a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Get home safe, okay?”

You nod, wrapping your scarf around your neck and kicking into your boots.

Pushing open the back doors to the establishment, you step out into the bitter wind and let out a low groan.

It was late, just after eleven at night, so the subway is still running. You could probably get home before midnight if you hurry, but the floors are still icy from the cold temperature, so you crunch, awkwardly, through the slush-snow-mush that coats the ground, careful of any translucent, shiny patches on the floor.

An obnoxiously loud series of beeps makes you jump out of your skin.

“Fuck!”

“You shouldn’t curse so loud, YN,” Namjoon’s pleasant tone rings from the driver’s seat. His hair is purple now, and shorter. It suits him so well, you almost drop your satchel at the sight of his honey-skin contrasting with the deep violet shade. “You look well. It’s nice to see you.”

“Mmm,” you reply, brain still catching up with your body. You know you’re just staring, dumbly, at him, and he lets out a soft chuckle, dimples appearing. That just isn’t fair.

“Do you want to get in the car and out of the cold? I can give you a ride,” he suggests, softly. There’s no compulsion in his voice, but he does seem a little uncomfortable with the idea of leaving you alone so late. “I don’t want you to think you have to – you don’t. I could get you a cab instead if you’re uncomfortable?”

“I’m not uncomfortable,” you reply, a touch too quickly. “Open the door.”

He does so, pushing it open and the heat tickles at you, invitingly. Settling into the car, you notice that the air smells strongly of vanilla – an aroma you closely associate with the tall literature major.

He doesn’t push you to talk, he just drives, taking special care of the stoplights, eyes on the road the entire way. The way he holds tension in his shoulders betrays his newly learner status as a driver.

You ask, scrambling for anything to fill the silence, “When did you pass your driving test?”

He glances at you, once the light overhead turns red. “Uhh, over the break actually. I’ve been saving for this car for a couple of months. My Mom said she’d match whatever I put up, so even though it isn’t as fancy as the others’, it’s all mine.”

He looks so proud of himself, chest puffing a little and his eyes are fucking sparkling. You can’t find it in you to laugh at him. You wouldn’t anyway. You don’t have a car, you don’t even have a license, so what right do you have to mock him?

“It’s nice,” you compliment. “Really, I’m happy for you.”

He smiles, dimples deepening before he turns his eyes to the street ahead, focused. The light changes and the silence returns.

“Did you have work?”

He nods, carefully. “I thought I’d stop by after, you know. To see if you were okay.”

“You work across town,” you remark, quirking a brow, the challenge clear in your voice.

The apples of his cheeks pink. “Yeah, I do, don’t I?”

“What time did you finish work?”

He pauses. “… Seven.”

“Namjoon!”

“I didn’t wait the whole time, I promise,” he says. “I went to dinner with a colleague, and then to the library for an hour. I just- I wanted to make sure you got home okay.”

You stare at him, the earnestness practically etched in every pane of his face, before you enquire, “And you couldn’t just call like a normal person, because…?”

“Because you wouldn’t have answered,” he replies, a touch sulkily.

You can’t say he’s wrong, because you aren’t sure if you would have answered the call, seeing his nickname flashing on your phone screen. Your panic would have probably choked you.

“You’re right,” you mumble. “Sorry.”

“Nothing to be sorry about,” he answers. “You are entitled to your space. We fucked up, big time, YN. We aren’t hiding from that.”

“You always say ‘we’,” you remark. “Why?”

He seems surprised for a second, contemplative, even. “Well, that’s because we are a ‘we’. There’s no ‘I’ in a cluster. I think of them as extensions of myself.”

“Yoongi said that you think of me as part of your coven too,” you suggest, shyly. “Is that- Is that true?”

Namjoon’s collar feels hot. He didn’t think he’d be getting into such personal matters so quickly, but he owes you an explanation. A brief one, but still – it’s there.

“Yes,” he replies, after a moment of thought. “Subconsciously, we’ve all begun to think of you as a part of our cluster.”

You bite your lip, lightly, at the confidence in his assertion.

He continues, carefully, “That’s why Hoseok brings you food, and why Jimin waits for you after class. It’s why Kookie will carry your things, and why Taehyung massages your feet without you needing to ask. Jin-hyung buys you little trinkets that he thinks you’ll like, because you’ve become a priority of his. Yoongi has one of your scarves in his room, because your scent feels comforting to him. All of us feel responsible for your well-being. It’s as natural for us as breathing.”

You chance a glance at him, and you notice that his face is just as red as yours is, maybe more so. “And you?”

He blinks, the car jerking a little in his nervousness, before he asks, shakily, “What about me?”

“What do you think of me?”

“I think you’re special, YN,” he says, after a long pause. “I think that we’re lucky to have you in our lives, and that I’m sorry we put you in a compromising position. I’m sorry you lost trust in us, and I want to somehow get us back to how it was before.”

“I don’t think that’s possible,” you reply, quietly.

His face crumples in regret, but you see him try to control it. He bites down on his bottom lip firmly, practically chewing on the skin in an attempt to keep the anguish off his face. He doesn’t want to make you feel guilty, even now, as you crush his heart in your hand.

You amend, quickly, “I just mean that because I know your secret, things have to be different, don’t they?”

He looks over at you, cautiously hopeful surprise written across his gorgeous face. “D-Do you mean that, YN?”

You let out a sigh. “I did wrong too. I didn’t listen to you, too caught up in my own… feelings that I didn’t think of how vulnerable you guys might feel. Yoongi explained that you guys are super-duper private creatures by nature. And I trampled on that, by reacting so badly.”

Namjoon shakes his head, finally pulling up outside of your apartment. “Not at all, YN. You’re human, we didn’t expect roses and a red carpet once you realised we fed on your kind.”

The visual of his words makes you cringe, and you cling to the reminder that they had said that they don’t kill humans. You remind yourself that this is Namjoon, and you’ve seen his collection of fluffy toys and the hand-knitted sweater than he wears, gifted to him for his birthday from Jimin, and the fear instantly dissolves.

“Still, I’m sorry I took your openness for granted and for ignoring you for the last few weeks. It was immature of me,” you reply, turning to face him head on. He’s already watching you, expression carefully withdrawn. “I want to try… I miss you guys so much.”

You blink back tears that sting at your eyes, and before you know it, the friendly giant has you bundled in his arms over the console. He exhales, shakily, “I’ve missed you so much, YN.”

He breathes into your hair, the hands that hold you are trembling, and you try to ignore the fact that your own are doing the same.

“Do you want to come to our apartment? The other boys would really appreciate seeing you soon,” he suggests, eager to have you back in their space that had long diffused itself of your natural scent.

“We’re already at my place,” you reply, sighing, before an idea strikes you. “How about you come up?”

Namjoon hadn’t been inside of your place yet – the only one of the seven to have never stepped foot in your place – so you are excited to take that step with him.

“If it’s okay with your housemates, sure,” he answers, unclipping his belt and turning off the engine. The two of you climb the stairs to your apartment and he hovers behind you as you struggle with your keys, palms slightly sweating with nerves.

“The place might be a bit messy, but my room’s fine,” you warn, stepping over the pile of shoes in the hallway. “I guess Young-mi or Nayeon might have some company.”

Lively chatter fills the living room, and you wince as you see Nayeon’s group of friends all turn their disinterested gazes over to you, barely acknowledging your existence.

“YN, you’re late,” Nayeon remarks, flippantly. “Sorry for the mess.”

“No worries,” you reply. “My friend and I will be in my room.”

Namjoon steps into the living room, and you see the moment where the girls all realise just who has stepped into your apartment. Not wanting to deal with the armed militia, you rush past the girls, stepping over neatly pedicured feet to get to your room, grip unyielding on Joon’s sleeve, and you slam your door shut.

“Was that Kim Namjoon?”

“How does she know him?”

“Do you think she could get me Jimin’s number? He blocked my other one…”

You close your eyes and wince at the revelry in the girl’s voice. Joon doesn’t seem to be paying attention, although you are sure he can hear every word.

“Your room is… just like I thought it’d be,” he says, fingers playing in the cotton blanket draped over your bed. He eyes your funky alarm clock in the shape of a cartoon bumblebee (a gift from your Mom), the photo-frame shaped like a book filled with one picture on each moveable page (your parents and yourself, you at your high-school graduation, a sepia picture of your parents on their wedding day, one of your childhood pet puppy, Ddeul, and the rest are empty), your giant cartoon pig plushie (from Mei Li), and your assorted posters dotted around the room.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you retort, strangely defensive, “And what does that mean?”

He glances at you, eyes glowing softly in the faint light from your bedside lamp, and he says, “It’s homely. Just like you, YN. It feels like a home.”

Namjoon ends up spending the night, taking the floor while you sleep on the bed, and you feel guilty the whole time. He’s wearing some ratty old sweats and one of your Dad’s college shirts that you had stolen to wear as pyjamas. He looks cute, in comfy clothes, even though they’re a touch too big for him.

“Your Dad must be huge,” he had murmured, somewhat frightened at the prospect. “Why are you do tiny?”

“My Mom is barely five-foot-tall,” you had replied, shoving at his shoulder. “I think I come somewhere nicely in the middle.”

That had been an hour ago. After getting yourself showered and into some PJs, you had come back to find Joon rooting through your barren shelves of books, appraising them, endearingly. Before long, the yawns set in, and you got into bed.

But, now you couldn’t really drift off.

“You can sleep here with me,” you mutter, moodily staring down at him, as if you could change his mood with your mind. “You’re being obstinate.”

“I’d rather not spend my first night in your apartment in your bed, YN,” he says, before he winks playfully. “What would the neighbours think?”

“That I was finally getting some,” you mutter, cynicism escaping before you realise he can hear you, perfectly well. “Ignore that.”

He nods, ducking his head further under the pathetic attempt of a bed you haphazardly made.

“The floor can’t be comfortable,” you murmur, staring down at the lumpy form that has taken up most of your floor space. You hadn’t realised just how long Namjoon was until you’d tried to create a makeshift bed for him.

He sighs, softly. “YN. Drop it.”

“Why?”

“I’m still a guy, you know,” he grumbles, suddenly glaring hotly up at you. “Men are dangerous to girls like you.”

“The implication that you would hurt me is laughable,” you reply, rolling your eyes so hard you almost black out. “Outside of the whole, you know, vampire thing, you’re practically a teddy bear.”

He growls something indistinguishable into your sheets before rolling onto his side, effectively ending the conversation. You don't know why he's being so grumpy with you, but you're so happy to have him back in your orbit that you don't really care. Just staring at the fluffy of purple atop his head is enough to make your stomach flutter with excited little butterflies.

“Fine, Moody,” you retort, pettily. “I’m changing your name in my phone to Namjoon No-Fun.”

Nothing.

“Not a fan? Okay, how about Joonie No-Jams?” You suggest, giggling.

He scoffs, lightly.

You tap your chin, contemplative. “Miserable Moni?”

He throws his pillow at you with frightening accuracy and growls, but there's no heat behind his words, only fond frustration, “Go to bed, YN!”

You don’t bother him for the rest of the night, but the two of you fall asleep with identical smiles on your faces, comforted by the presence of someone you cared about so much and appreciated so dearly.

- end - 

Masterlist / Chapter (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12), (13), (14), (15)

#euphoric endeavours #bts x yn #bts x reader #vampire bts #bts angst #bts fluff #supernatural au #park jimin x reader #kim taehyung x reader #kim seokjin x reader #kim namjoon x reader #min yoongi x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #jung hoseok x reader #btswritersguild #btswriterscollective #btswritersclub #btswriterscafe