#the top down view... looking at the whole map.. yes..

[oraoraorihara]

[oofmybad]

Hometown glory

synopsis: you’re with billie while she’s on tour in london - your hometown - so you show her around some of your old spots.

warnings: billie x female!reader, fluff, londoner reader, lowercase intended

a/n: i need y’all to suspend disbelief for me cuz they’re walking around like billie wouldn’t get spotted in 0.5 seconds. just go w it please 😭 not proofread, sorry!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“ahhhhh! i’m so excited to show you! where do you wanna go first, baby?” you turn your head to look for billie’s response. instead, you’re met with billie cooing at your overzealous enthusiasm.

“i don’t mind, my girl. you should probably decide, though, ‘cause you’re the local ‘n everything” billie says to you as she’s laid out on your bed - her legs crisscrossed.

while billie has a week residency at the O2, you’ve managed to convince her to stay in your london flat with you. you’ve missed being home, and it seemed silly to stay in a hotel together if you have a home here.

“ok, let me think of the most efficient way…” you pause to map out the different locations in your mind, “have you seen camden? it’s only down the road.”

“a little bit. i did a night at the electric ballroom a couple years ago, and dad took me for a walk around the lock years before that.” billie says, her eyes squinting in an effort to sort through the rolodex of travel memories she has.

“ok, maybe we don’t do camden then” you think out loud, “it’s a nice day, so we’ll go to the heath and - wait,” you put your hand up in a ‘pause’ motion “would you rather go thrift shopping, or go where i spent my time when i was at college?” you ask.

“second one” billie nods, replying with ease.

“you’re a cutie” you reply with blush at billie’s interest in your life, “when it gets darker we can go towards central, then. and maybe take a walk along the bank - it’s so pretty at night.”

“whatever you say, pretty girl” billie’s face is still very enamoured with your energy.

you cover your own face from embarrassment while saying, “okayyy. come on, then. chop chop” clapping your hands at the end of your sentence.

“yes, ma’am!” billie stands and mock salutes you, “what do i wear?”

“just be comfy… actually, bring a good jacket for later.”

“baby, it’s july” billie raises her eyebrows at you.

you reply in a sarcasm-laced tone, “baby, it’s london” and roll your eyes.

*** time skip to hampstead heath ***

“this hill is killing me. my feet hurt” billie whines from a couple steps behind you.

“i told you to wear comfy stuff! and parliament hill is barely a hill” you teasingly shake your head, then peer back at her.

“these are comfy!” she almost shouts back “just stop walking so fast.”

you stop in your tracks and turn around to wait for your girlfriend, “ok, miss short legs. MY bad.”

“hey?! what was that for?! sorry, miss supermodel legs” billie huffs.

“what can i say?” you sarcastically flip your hair over your shoulders, a smug smile adorning your lips.

billie just smiles, accepting defeat, and once she has caught up to you she softly places her hand on your hip and reaches up to peck your lips.

you smile in return and pat her ass twice, “let’s go!” you spin around and continue to charge ahead.

“UGGHHHHHH” billie’s loud groan and heavy stomping feet are all you hear from behind you causing you to giggle at billie’s antics.

once you’ve both reached the top of the hill, you’re welcomed with a full view of london’s skyline - the whole length of the thames in front of you.

“pretty right?” you ask, squeezing your hand that’s wrapped around billie’s shoulder. “i used to come and study here during my summer exams” you continue.

“so pretty…” billie pauses “… like you.”

you wince and look away from her yelling, “cringeee!”

“i knew you’d say that” billie tuts.

“and you still went ahead with it?!” you’re both laughing now.

*** time skip to central london ***

“ok so this is where i went to university” you say, pointing to the modern buildings standing to the east of you two.

“do you miss it?” billie asks you, a pout on her lips because she knows the answer to her question.

“all the time. they were the best years of my life” you say, now matching billie’s pout.

“rude” she says in mock offence.

you lightly slap her arm and say “don’t be silly, you know what i mean.”

“i do, baby. i’m just teasing you” billie smiles at you.

“i still get to visit my old sports team, though. alumni privileges” you cheese while singing the last part - evidently proud of yourself for the years of hard work you put in there.

“down here is the north side of the bank. we can walk along it, towards the west, and then go to south bank - that’s where the london eye is!” you propose to billie.

“lead the way, princess” she holds her hand out for you.

“we have to go over one of the bridges that had your album promo projected onto it last year!” you say, slightly skipping from your excitement. you’re so happy to be showing your girlfriend the city that you love.

when you got to LA, billie was sure to take you to all of her childhood spots. now, you get to return the favor.

“how do you know that?!” billie asks, “i didn’t even know that!”

you’re on a tangent now, “i have a picture of the blohsh on the oxo tower, too!” you say, bouncing in your steps again. “i never showed you?!” your girlfriend lightly shakes her head.

“i went to go find the promo posters in borough market and everything. i can’t believe i forgot to show you - that’s why i took the pictures!” you pull your phone out and scroll up to may of last year, showing billie all the spots you found her promo in.

billie pulls your phone out of your hand, tucking it in her front pocket - capturing your full attention. “you’re so precious” she says, her arms holding either side of your waist.

you only manage to let out a little “stoppp” in response - now embarrassed of how earnest you’ve been.

“don’t be embarrassed, baby. i think it’s sweet” billie says, fully interlocking her arms around your back, and pulling you in to cuddle, “the fucking sweetest.”

[words-4u]

right person (1/3)

pairings: luca x reader, marcus x reader (platonic)

wc: 1.4k

a/n: immediately started planning a three part series on luca while watching the bear s2. that's what a tatted will poulter does to me (the bear is an incredible show btw pls watch if you don't)

warning: swearing

part 2 / part 3

"denmark?"

"yes! we are sending you and marcus to denmark for two weeks to stage at this really great restaurant. you're gonna learn to do three new desserts for us. carmy knows the head pastry chef. says he's really cool so it should be fun, right?" sydney explained.

"that does sound fun! i'm in!" you smile.

you look at marcus who was deep in thought. if you had to guess what he was thinking, his mind is probably on his mom who was currently bed ridden at a hospital.

you put a hand on marcus' shoulder. "you good with that?" you ask your co pastry chef.

he broke out of his thoughts and nods. "yeah, i-i'm great. i'd love to."

"great! cause you guys really didn't have a choice. your flights are already booked for tomorrow afternoon sooo thanks!" sydney offers two thumbs and an awkward smile before she leaves what used to be the kitchen.

"holy shit," you whisper in shock. "staging at a michelin star restaurant in a country i've always wanted to visit. could this be any better?"

"i have to go tell my mom but give me a call if you need a ride to the airport tomorrow. chester will probably take me and we can swing by your place if you want?"

"dude, yes! that'd save me a shit ton of money that i would've spent on uber."

"cool, see you," marcus grabs his bag and heads out the door.

after helping fak, riche and gary with fallen ceiling debris, you decide to leave a bit early to pack and clean your apartment before your travel.

it was noon on the dot the next day when marcus calls to check if you were ready for the airport. since you packed the night before, you had a rather peaceful morning. chester talks your ear off the whole way to the airport and you guys get there he demands to see your passports because he wants to make sure you and marcus actually had it on you.

"chester, can you do me a favour and check in on my ma when you get the time?" marcus asks.

"dude, i'm way ahead of you. gonna check on her every morning on my way to work,"

"i appreciate it."

chester looks at both you. "now, i want you take a deep breath and let the good in. you guys are gonna kill it."

you grin at marcus' friend. "thanks chester. okay we're gonna have to leave now before we miss our flight."

marcus says his farewell to his best friend and the two of you head to your gate.

the plane ride to copenhagen was smooth despite marcus' worries. you guys hop on a train to explore the city before heading to where you were staying.

"trains here are way cleaner than the ones in chicago," marcus leans over to whisper.

"waay cleaner," you agree.

the two of you exited the station and stood in awe of your view. clear blue skies. cool fresh air. colourful buildings. and the smell of hotdogs which was incredibly appealing after your long journey.

you and marcus lock eyes. "oh yeah."

marcus got a hotdog with dried onions and pickles on top while you had a plain jane moment with just ketchup.

"this is the best thing i've ever put in my mouth," you say with in between bites.

"just what i needed honestly," marcus says.

after your quick meal, the two of you continue to wander the city taking in the architecture most of all.

marcus was using the maps feature on his phone to find the place you were supposed to be staying at.

"uh i don't see any apartment buildings near," you say. "are you sure we are in the right place?"

marcus led you to a canal where some boats were docked. "i am 99.9% sure. you're staying in 286 and i'm in 287."

you glance at the boat in front of you and saw the gold numbers plaque on the side. "well, mystery solved. this is your place and i'm guessing this one is mine." you moved further down to the boat behind marcus' one.

"sick," he smiles.

"i'll see you tomorrow, yeah?"

"night, y/n!"

you walk down a couple of steps before unlocking a door that lead to a kitchen and dining room. it was spacious and you were grateful for the many windows it had. the stairs to the left led up to the bedroom which was a lot smaller than you anticipated having only space for your bed and a small cabinet for clothes.

you flop on your bed and exhaled. you didn't realize how tired you were until your head hit the soft mattress and while everything in you wanted to knock out, you knew you had to get up and unpack because you wouldn't have time tomorrow.

one thing you were not was a morning person and yes you should have gotten used to it by now working in the restaurant industry but getting up at 4 a.m. will never feel natural. regardless, you had a twinge of excitement for your new job and excited to learn under this new chef that carmy spoke so highly of.

once you got ready for the day, you hear three soft knocks.

"morning," you say. "you ready?"

"born ready," marcus says as you lock your door and head to the restaurant.

it was only a 15 minute walk from where you were staying so the two of you arrive with time to spare.

you walk into the bright kitchen and suck in a breath. the kitchen was stunning with it's high-end equipment, gorgeous green tiling and the young hot chef moving bags of flour from one table to another.

"chef. i'm marcus brooks and this is y/n y/l/n," marcus begins. "and we're from-"

the chef looks up for a quick second. "i know. i'm luca, pastry. we start at 5 a.m. your section's at the end of the bench."

the english accent takes you by surprise. your knees could have buckled right then and there.

"yes, chef," the two of you say in unison.

now your excitement turned into nervousness. not only were you to create three star-worthy desserts for the bear, you had to learn from someone who is so extremely good looking it hurts.

marcus and you head to the back to change into your uniforms which was a basic indigo t-shirt and a green apron like luca had.

when you went back out, you immediately wash your hands and got ready for whatever luca had in store for you guys.

luca had marcus rollout croissant pastry while he led you to a table where he had prepared a dessert. your task was to place pieces of peanuts at a certain angle as part of its presentation.

you study luca as he shows you what to do. he had small black tattoos scattered up and down his arms. that alone is having an effect on you.

"here, you try," he says passing the tweezers to you.

your fingers brush as you took the small tool from him. luca didn't make eye contact but you did notice his jaw clench.

"nuzzle that sliver into the pudding just to lock it in."

"yes, chef," you say.

taking one of the small nuts from the bowl, you place it on the pudding but it slipped last second.

"no. again, chef," he says in a calm yet assertive tone.

"sorry," you say and try again and it's worse which luca picks up on.

"hm, worse."

he takes the tweezers from you and picks up the piece. "don't be afraid to just stick it in there, you know," luca takes the nut and slides it in perfectly. "just be confident about it."

"don't second-guess yourself," he says finally locking eyes with you.

you nod. "yes, chef."

you took the tweezers back and third time was the charm because you placed the nut in the pudding just like he'd showed you. smiling to yourself, you put the tool down.

luca's face stays expressionless. he looks up from the dessert. "you know how to make shiso gelee?"

you absolutely do not know how to make whatever he just said but there was no way you were gonna let him know that.

"yes, chef."

"alright."

luca steps away to grab some ingredients which gives you the opportunity to whip your phone out and google the gelee. "dextrose? what the fuck is that?" you whisper to yourself.

luca came back and places a tray in front you. "recipe," he says tapping some blue index cards.

you felt your face burn. "thank you, chef."

end of part 1 omggg. not much luca x reader but it’s warming up trust me. i already have ideas for part 2 and 3 with some potential alternate endings... stay tuned

if you enjoyed, please let me know (through my bio) if you have any the bear requests, send them my way!

[ohdorothea]

This tournament is being run by and for queer fans so please keep that in mind! Homophobes will be blocked on sight <3 More polls here and more info here! Lyrics for the songs and FAQ under the cut!

Maroon lyrics

When the morning came, we

Were cleaning incense off your

Vinyl shelf 'cause we lost track of time again

Laughing with my feet in your lap

Like you were my closest friend

"How'd we end up on the floor anyway?"

You say

"Your roommate's cheap-ass screw top rosé

That's how"

I see you every day now

And I chose you

The one I was dancing with in New York

No shoes

Looked up at the sky and it was

The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was

The mark they saw on my collarbone

The rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home

So scarlet, it was maroon

When the silence came, we

Were shaking blind and hazy

How the hell did we lose sight of us again?

Sobbing with your head in your hands

Ain't that the way shit always ends

You were standing hollow-eyed in the hallway

Carnations you had thought were roses

That's us

I feel you, no matter what

The rubies that I gave up

And I lost you

The one I was dancing with in New York

No shoes

Looked up at the sky and it was maroon

The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet, it was

The mark they saw on my collarbone

The rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home

So scarlet, it was maroon

And I wake with your memory over me

That's a real fuckin' legacy, legacy

(It was maroon)

And I wake with your memory over me

That's a real fuckin' legacy to leave

The burgundy on my t-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

And how the blood rushed into my cheeks, so scarlet

It was maroon

The mark they saw on my collarbone

The rust that grew between telephones

The lips I used to call home

So scarlet, it was maroon

It was maroon

It was maroon

🫶🫶🫶

Paris lyrics

"Your ex-friend's sister

Met someone at a club and he kissed her

Turns out, it was that guy you hooked up with ages ago

Some wannabe Z-lister

And all the outfits were terrible

2003 unbearable

Did you see the photos?"

No, I didn't, but thanks, though

I'm so in love that I might stop breathing

Drew a map on your bedroom ceiling

No, I didn't see the news

'Cause we were somewhere else

Stumbled down pretend alleyways

Cheap wine, make believe it's champagne

I was taken by the view

Like we were in Paris

Like we were somewhere else

Like we were in Paris, oh

We were somewhere else

Privacy sign on the door

And on my page and on the whole world

Romance is not dead if you keep it just yours

Levitate above all the messes made

Sit quiet by my side in the shade

And not the kind that's thrown

I mean, the kind under where a tree has grown

I'm so in love that I might stop breathing

Drew a map on your bedroom ceiling

No, I didn't see the news

'Cause we were somewhere else

Stumbled down pretend alleyways

Cheap wine, make believe it's champagne

I was taken by the view

Like we were in Paris, oh

Like we were somewhere else

Like we were in Paris, oh

We were somewhere else

I wanna brainwash you

Into loving me forever

I wanna transport you

To somewhere the culture's clever

Confess my truth

In swooping, sloping, cursive letters

Let the only flashing lights be the tower at midnight

In my mind

We drew a map on your bedroom ceiling

No, I didn't see the news

'Cause we were somewhere else

In an alleyway, drinking champagne

'Cause we were in Paris

Yes, we were somewhere else

My love, we were in Paris

Yes, we were somewhere else

🫶🫶🫶

The question is which song is queerer to you! Queerer can mean whatever you want it to mean; you might consider a song queer because you think it was written that way, or because of Swiftian lore. It might be queer to you because of how you relate it to your own life. Maybe you think from a purely literary standpoint the lyrics have queer themes; maybe you're just thinking about vibes!!!

Put in the tags your interpretations or propaganda for a specific song! Tags will be used to decide what songs may be saved if there are extra slots in the next round!

[kiwinatorwaffles]

hermit species headcanons: volume… 2!

i made this post two years ago when i was fresh to the series and was just getting to know the hermits. a lot has changed since then, but a lot has also stayed the same! my headcanons are getting refined every single time i talk about them, so chances are, this list won't even be accurate to my thoughts a year later.

with that being said, let's get started! click the cut to read them all

bdubs: glare! small, hates the dark, is a feral creature, will never let go of the moss. he and pungance were born from the same tree in the same patch of moss so they are brothers LMAO

beef: vampire! but not a full one. he was bitten by a bat and gained two vampiric traits exactly: fangs and sensitive skin. beef thinks his tendency to get sunburnt easily is just something in his code or a genetic condition. he never got it checked.

cub: alien shapeshifter! his original form is this shapeless void blob, and he can only copy how other beings look like. his forms were taken from two astronauts he saw in space, an old man and a young man. his void form can be seen slightly on his inner arm, where there is just a sliver of night sky hanging out

cleo: zombie (duh) cleo was permakilled by a witch's curse but when faced with the pearly gates they were like. nah. i'd rather be down there. and just straight up left and came back as a zombie. that's how she met joe. because he was sitting on top of her tombstone eating a sandwich

doc: originally a fae, but now he's super fucked up? what can i even say. he was a fae who got super interested in the sciences and started experimenting on himself just for the hell of it. there was that whole dinnerbone cyborg arm thing but he also managed to make himself a centaur form that he uses for extra storage and height. nobody knows where the creeper came from. was it from his dad's side? did he give it to himself? not even stress, his cousin, can tell you how he came to be. what the hermits DO know however is that he can steal pronouns by asking for them

etho: redstone deity! etho was an ancient builder who was executed for witchcraft upon his discovery of redstone. he was resurrected by the universe as a second chance and to spread his knowledge to the world. you can read more from my fic here ehehehehe

false: human! yes she is 100% human. i just thought it would be funny if such an awesome and skilled fighter was just some normal ass human with a bit of social anxiety

gem: forest spirit! she has nature powers and can change parts of her body to reflect parts of nature. she's a deer? an elf? nope! only sometimes. she can mix and match whatever traits she wants on any given day. but be careful of those deer legs and horns. they Hurt

grian: red macaw avian! he has bird feathers covering his ears, parrot wings, and bird talons! he is also able to mimic voices perfectly (which he uses to play pranks and swear in other hermits’ voices) and is a Hollow Boned Menace. he carries a lot of bird tendencies, like being a piece of shit or preening his friends’ hair when it’s too messy (which is always). in start of seasons, he has x lock away usage of his wings to keep himself from an unfair advantage. he also has stolen powers from the watchers, which he can use to change his wing colors or view the entire map from afar.

npg: ????????????? he’s supposed to be a robot, but he has wings and flies sideways?????? he’s somehow even more fucked up than robot grian. not even grian is sure of what he created tbh. he just knows he did NOT give npg those conure wings to begin with.

ariana griande: galah avian! she is grian's cousin who is a pop star. she has never actually been on hermitcraft before -- that was grian cosplaying as her.

hypno: human warlock! he accidentally made a pact when he replaced his tooth with a piece of cursed gold. jokes on his patron though, his faulty human memory can't even remember how he got his powers! he has lots of inscriptions as tattoos written in galactic just all over his body that he completely forgot how to read at this point and is immortal. maybe that's a bit bad for his sense of self-preservation

impulse: demon/imp! he used to be a gargoyle that dispensed candy, but a wizard passing by granted him life and well. now he's here! demons are actually underworld spirits that punish permadead players who have been genuinely horrible to the players around them, but impulse wanted to build houses and play with redstone instead of stirring the torture soup. so when he met skizz he decided hanging out with the players was the best thing to do. he also used to have larger horns and wings but his time on the surface has made his wings very tiny and unusable without the help of an elytra. skizz always teases him for this.

iskall: cyborg! the hermits don't know if he was fully human before the cyborgification. me, personally? i think it would be funny if she was actually built to protect a village but had too much of a personality so the villages just let him go have fun with the players. not sure if i want to adhere to that though

jevin: slime! certain slimes have evolved to be more like players. jevin is from the blue variety (that's his gender)

joe hills: ???????? void-born universe being??? joe is actually the oldest living being in the universe. he was just popped out of void (even predating the void gods) and spent all this time just doing whatever fuckall was around to do. he looks like a normal human being but just Slightly to the left, like his a bit-too-many teeth or slight lean when he stands. other than that, he acts like any other human!

joel: human mage! he actually only has powers of illusion that changes only how he looks. he Really wanted to be an orc but the spell couldnt last forever (as his fae wife lizzie found out after marriage). every day he wishes he had as much swag as shrek did. more on the headcanon here

keralis: weird fucking eldritch cryptid being? except he looks exactly like a human. nothing weird about him, nope. just don't look too closely at his eyes. he promises that he blinks like a normal person and not with his pupils.

mumbo: robot! with a core heart and stretchy limbs, he runs mainly on the consumption of redstone and occasionally typical foodstuffs. he had a creator before the days of hermitcraft (who originally built him as a war machine but something went deeply sideways during construction) that taught him all there is to know about redstone and the outside world. he also inherited the british accent and mustache from his creator. his creator did want him to be free and wiped mumbo's memory of his creation before setting him off into the overworld and letting him roam free. now he's just a silly guy!

grumbot: robot! he was first built to give suggestions on what to do with the mayoral elections but then he developed actual attachments to his horribly neglectant dads </3 but it's alright! he now chills with renbob and goatman up in the hermitheus

pearl: moon spirit! she was the moon from a player's hardcore world. the player used to talk to the moon for fun, but suddenly disappeared from the world one day. now feeling lonely, pearl took a humanoid form and descended to find where her player went, but she ended up discovering the joys of being a player herself. contrary to popular belief, she had no influence on the season 8 moon.

ren: weredog! can shapeshift into a dog form, which he usually uses to either run fast or play fetch. he’s also more prone to change when the moon is larger…. except he just becomes a hyperactive dog who chases his tail all night and is deeply embarrassed by it. he also probably has rabies, but everyone whom he has bitten probably already had something deeply wrong with them to begin with anyway

renbob: human...? he's related to ren from the human side, or at least that what he tells people. but he might as well be 50% weed by now

scar: human(?) wizard! he can fly, subtly change his physical appearance, cast spells, and do all sorts of magical shenanigans! he also can read galactic fluently, which is how he learned that hypno enchanted himself with loyalty at some point. jellie is his beloved familiar. also he's a capitalist. nobody knows where that came from

skizz: angel! why are there angels in minecraft, you might ask? some people are satisfied with their lives and let themselves permadie. skizz, after being born randomly from an angel statue (i wonder if it’s related to the other statue guy) was supposed to be one of the angels who helped escort players to the pearly gates, but he met impulse while his demon clan was taking a field trip to heaven. the two immediately became besties and skizz begged the universe to let him join the players. the universe begrudgingly agreed and now he's here! he hides his many other halos as ring tattoos on his arms as well

stress: fae! she's got fairy powers, magical swag, an affinity for flowers, and will beat you up if you assume she's the resident server cleric.

tango: ex-blazeborn! he saw some yummy packed ice and ate it, which extinguished his internal flame. his blazeborn tribe felt bad for him but knew it would be dangerous if he stayed, so tango just left for the overworld instead. he tries to convince people that he is 100% a human and not suspicious at all because he's embarrassed of having to explain that he lost most of his powers due to eating some yummy ice cream. a more detailed post about my headcanon can be found here

tfc: human! the only non-human aspect of him is a prosthetic leg. contrary to popular belief, he did not lose that leg while mining. it was after fighting a horde of skeletons. (he won)

wels: human. he's just a human. nobody believes him when he tells them because they've seen him accidentally level a building while sparring before. but nope. he's just a human. and a very fucked up one at that

hels: ???? techncially has the traits of wels, beef, and etho????? is there a species for evil clones created by copying machines or

xb: guardian! he was a guardian made to guard the magical treasures of ancient builders, but he got bored of staying in the same spot for centuries and his creators never returning. hypno casted a spell of bipedelity on xb, so now he can walk on land! i wrote a fic about it here too

xisuma: voidwalker! created by the young void gods, he was made from a fucking mspaint file where the void gods dicked around with the program and made a deeply fucked up being (him) on accident. he has no mouth, his hands are as black as the void, and his voice is terrifying without a modulator, which is why he wears a helmet. more about it in my fic here

evil x: also a voidwalker, but this time the void gods pressed random on a picrew and sent him out into an alternate dimension. he grew up in super england until x fished him out of the void. this little rascal has red scleras, ram horns, and a devil tail. he doesn't need to sleep, so he gets all his energy from eating, which is convenient because his sharp teeth can crunch anything and he can digest everything. his hair acts like an enderchest with a portal to the void, where he keeps snacks and various trinkets.

zedaph: human, but he’s not sane. i mean look at this guy. look at what he’s doing. nobody knows how he became so deeply fucked up but he's truly just Like That. he gave himself sheep features once on accident though

worm man: surprisingly, human. he's lucky to have stayed human for this long with his brother's insane experiments. accurate to popular belief, he has no superpowers.

[an-apowell]

Mohg soon took up in one of the back towers overlooking the fort. He requested maps of Caeild and some paper and soon had drafted a new map: The map of the underground waterways, well, what I can recall off hand. Jerren was in aw: Are these in scale? Mohg: Give or take a few feet, but for our purposes, the exact locations of the rivers are not critical. As long as they are within viewing distance we can still tap them. Jerren's mouth felt dry: Are these freshwater? Mohg overlays another map on top: Yes. As you can see, the flora thrives in areas just around the rivers and tampers off the closer it gets. There are some cases where it doesn't, because the rivers run too deep in the ground. If we tap these rivers both for water to flow up on land and then back through, it will filter the rot with the untampered soil, breaking it down further. I suppose it would take a month or so before you see changes. Jerren having Radahn peering over his shoulder: Imagine, if flooding Caeild works in curing the rot, it would have been under our noses this whole time. What about those afflicted? Mohg: I haven't had the chance to work on an individual with Scarlet Rot yet, but I have a clear idea of how to accomplish that. Radahn pointed to the map: There's one behind the castle, we can test it there. Mohg: It is secure enough and out of the way of those dogs. Jerren, perky: Oh, you've seen the dogs. Mohg: Like, why did the rot do that? - Radahn, where are you going? Radahn: I'm going to get this started. Mohg: We need resources- Radahn: I'm going to lift the river. What do you mean where am I going? Jerren and Mohg talked over each other as they all stepped outside: Radahn, no. You're not your normal self. Do you even have gravity magic anymore? He does but- Radahn: I do! And but nothing. Watch! Radahn threw a sharp air punch to a crate and it jolted a good 10 feet off the catwalk and spooked soldiers below. Radahn turning with his arms out: See. I still got it. Mohg gave Radahn a deadpan expression as Jerren stroked his beard: Mohg, how deep are the rivers? Mohg: 40 meters. Radahn placed his hands on the stone wall that looked out on the battlefield he was trapped in. He pulls at it and, nervously to himself: I held back the stars. I can do this. Mohg: Radahn, I don't know how to put this lightly, but if you try to lift the rivers yourself, you will have a heart attack. There was a flash of turmoil in Radahn's eyes. Mohg, sighing: So show me how to do it- Radahn exclaimed as Mohg said blandly: So you don't have to do it yourself because... *mumbles* step twins and -- I want my rune back!

[theadventurerslog]

Discworld | Part 4

The Adventurer's Log

Accidental hiatus but I'm back. To recap I was struggling and needed one more ingredient for the spell to find the dragon's lair. I called my last post a chronicle of errors. It was even more so than I knew. I said may the search not lead me to even more agony. It did, just not in the way I expected. I started out here on the search for the still-needed magic coil.

I did some wandering, checking out places again with no luck until I thought to go back to the alley rooftops as it had been a while since I'd been there and I hadn't checked it out as thoroughly as other places. Surprise, surprise I had missed a tower in the background I could get to. I got over there to dangle off a flag pole and get a nice view of the dragon. Also a conversation with Death who happened to be passing by.

Rincewind is not willing to let go of life at this point in time, so Death headed off. Just another day in Rincewind's life.

The flagpole had a tip at the end to interact with. I was thinking through items that could hang there and the mirror had string to hang with. Of course I had to go back down to ground level since the Luggage wasn't going to be getting up here. Put Rincewind's pockets to use. I do wish he could carry two items though. Have some options.

I wasn't sure what the mirror would do if this worked at all--maybe shine light somewhere useful?

It did work and light was shone around...catching the attention of the dragon who flew over to admire itself.

Then it blew flame at the mirror breaking the string and the mirror fell all the way back down to be caught by the lovely Luggage. I went to check out what the state the mirror was in now and...

and...

Dragon Breath... a breathed-on-mirror for my dragon breath. Which, yeah, makes sense...but...argh! Certainly makes more sense than what I had thought with the hair roller.

The hair roller was the magic coil all along; the thing I'd been looking for was already found... I mean the connection--brimstone!--had felt awfully tenuous but I'd made it before realizing the magic coil was even a thing, thinking I only needed four ingredients and it just...stuck. Not one of my finer moments.

Venting through save file names.

But hey, at least I've got them all now! Now it was time for my triumphant return to the Archchancellor. For real this time.

At last all the ingredients! Forget the bumbling and mistakes!

And the Archchancellor put them all together into a dragon detecting device. Rincewind meanwhile has a whole pile of gold in his head to daydream about it, so decides he wants that detector himself. With the ye olde "look behind you something weird" trick, Rincewind distracted the Archchancellor and grabbed the device for himself. Now I know we're in an alternate universe because book Rincewind would be fleeing at top speed with the device handled and out of his hands. He gets to go back to boring? Yes please! On the other hand the call of gold and riches is strong I suppose.

Anyway, I was thrown back out into the city map and had to run around it until I got some good rapid beeping and a new location was revealed. A barn.

The dragon's lair! Gold!

Gold gold gold! But once all the gold was loaded into the Luggage, the dragon made itself known. Uh oh.

Or less uh oh as it turns out. The dragon isn't happy about being dragged here. A secret brotherhood has control of him and has been using him for their evil deeds. He just wants to go back to his own dimension of rest. So, the dragon makes a request: find the brotherhood and find each of the six gold artifacts they used to summon and control him. Bring the artifacts to him and he can sever the connection they have over him. First go find the one who stole the book of summoning from the Unseen University library. Also get moving because he can feel himself being built up for another rampage. Good times!

And it's time for Act II! Is this a 2 act game or a 3 act game (probably 3?)? Or more! I have no idea.

I missed the Act I image at the start of the game, so here's II at least.

Before I left the lair I also found and grabbed a screwdriver.

Knowing I needed to track down a book thief I headed back to the library for clues. I didn't get anything useful out of the Librarian but I did still have the sleazy man to deal with.

Something I may have forgotten to mention last time, but if not, reminders certainly don't hurt, is that this guy wasn't willing to give his golden banana for anything...except maybe all the gold in the kingdom. So I started handing him all the dragon gold and Rincewind convinced him that was indeed in all the gold in their kingdom, well democracy. Sorry, Rincewind, didn't get to stay rich for long. I was given the golden banana and showing it to the Librarian led him to opening a door into L-Space. So, I went into L-Space.

It brought me to a past night in the Library where I was able to see a thief come in, steal the book and leave through a secret passage. Leaving L-Space and coming back resets things.

I tried taking the book myself and leaving and ended up in Death's Domain. I think that's where it was meant to be anyway.

The four horsemen of the apocalypse were playing some kind of card game and after some silly conversation I was booted back out. I assume my efforts were paradox causing. So no taking the book!

What I was actually meant to do was follow the thief into the secret passage, where I was brought back out to the city but at night.

The thief ran around for a while before he finally settled at a new location to go check out.

There's a drainpipe and rain barrel. Might be relevant but I haven't found how yet. The forbidding door had a forbidding knocker I could use.

Brother Doorkeeper talked through the door slot but refused to say anything because Rincewind is clearly not part of the brotherhood. Not even dressed right. Nothing forbidding or black about him.

I assume I need something black to wear. I see a few possibilities: steal something, dye something, or I dunno, singe his clothing? Probably not that third option but who knows!

I left to explore night Ankh-Morpork some more.

I found Rincewind passed out drunk on the park bench from that counterwise wine had earlier. There was also a butterfly.

I also found a butterfly. A multiverse of ramifications. Of course I tried to catch it with the net; what could go wrong? It flew up to the lamp and stayed there out of reach.

I carried on.

I was able to go to the inn and enter the room. There was the guy who had been...will be? in the Broken Drum. I remembered his story about being scared of some eldritch being entering his room and stealing his gate pass. All the steps were told! But I seem to need some way to get him to seemingly pass out, or Rincewind won't go far because the guy is all alert. The guy had talked about the being bursting through the door, so something there? I also have no need for a gatepass right now anyway. So, something for future referennce?

I went to the Street as well, which mostly didn't have much for me, but Igneous's pottery shop was open and I was able to snag a pot off the window sill. I think he's the same troll as the one at the Psychia-trickerist's too?

I couldn't find anything else to do, so I headed back through L-Space to the current day, figuring I could maybe find something helpful to bring back. Back in the present time I didn't really know what to do or where to go so I did the rounds checking everywhere again. Lots of stuff changed.

Palace: The guards wouldn't let me pass and I couldn't get them to knock each other out to sneak by like before.

Park: The lamp now had water and a fish swimming in it. That was sure some butterfly.

Inn: The rom was now accessible. I found some bubble bath in its bathroom

Cite Gate: A crate with fireworks and a keg of gun powder. I got to take both...

Sator Square: One of the old men was collapsed with a poison dart. Or faking it? The others weren't concerned anyway.

The amazon woman was deciding to take a different approach to the men slaughtering for severity-based attacks based on severity of the lust

The UU chef was in the stockade

Unseen University: The Archchancellor was gone from the room

There was cornflour to get in the kitchen

I was able to light a match and light a lamp in the storage closet so I could actually see. I found starch on a shelf - New Jiffy-bril instant starch - stiffens anything

In the back area that leads to the kitchen I was able to take a garbage can full of garbage. Yay? Street: The fish monger had some different stuff to say that was still not helpful. Mostly punny.

There's a monk of Offler preaching on the corner. He's always been there, but I think I may have skipped mentioning him before. He has dark robes so there's promise there but beats me what to do if there's anything to that. He's also really annoying because the text and his mouthing lasts way longer than the actual voicing and actions are stalled until he shuts up. Briefly. Before the next line.

The bargain bin stock in the toy shop changed and I got a Hogfather doll.

The woman left the barber but I couldn't find anything to do with the now-empty chair.

Alley: The alchemist has made progress towards clickies but hasn't had any luck getting good actors

The tile that launches you up to the rooftops doesn't seem to work anymore.

Livery Stable: I grabbed more corn for the sake of having more corn because why not. Still don't know what to do about the donkey

Hideout: I can now access it in the present, but couldn't find anything to do there. In fact I couldn't seem to even use the knocker.

Broken Drum: Didn't see anything more I could do. That said, I probably could stand to check it out more thoroughly again.

And after all that I'm not sure what to do now. I need Secret Brotherhood-worthy clothing, somehow...

Just because I could, I used my matches with the firecrackers and lit one. So... now I have a lit firecracker hanging out in the Luggage. Not dangerous at all!

Otherwise, I've probably just missed something. That's usually the case. I am piling up a lot of inventory items though. Hopefully I'll be back with mission accomplished and getting a good start on finding those artifacts. Is bringing those golden artifacts to the dragon a good idea? I have some doubts. Dragons are tricky, but we shall see. Either way being under control of the brotherhood is bad too. Or maybe he is totally on the up and up and will go back home when released. For now? I wander! And hopefully solve problems.

[spellucci]

Eclipse Day!

Saturday, October 14, 2023

The alarm goes off at 4:30 am. We decamp quickly, forgoing coffee in order to leave time to find a good place from which to watch the balloons. Google Maps reports a 45-minute delay getting to Albuquerque. Figures. Saturday morning of the Balloon Fiesta is Kids Day. Everybody wants to go.

We aim our GPS for a viewing spot well away from Balloon Fiesta Park and cross our fingers. We are in luck. We pass two miles of cars stopped on I-25 waiting to take the Balloon Fiesta Park exit. We take the next exit and head for an industrial park well away from the Fiesta, and with plenty of parking.

We see one balloon through the trees, then more, then a whole cloud.

The community service call starts and we kvell about the joys our lives hold. The call is well-attended and uplifting. Then breakfast and back up the road to find a good eclipse viewing spot.

We pass many hopeful-looking hills, but they are all Native American tribal lands. Then Jeanne finds a promising drive in the hills above the Santa Fe petroglyphs, so we head that way.

Highways turn to roads turn to narrow streets turns to dirt. We shift to 4WD and start to climb. After a while, we see a road to the top of the hill. The path is rocky and steep. We shift to low/low and start crawling up. We pass over one rock which makes it under our front axle but hits our back axle with a bang. We reach the top of the hill and find two other vehicles already there. One fellow has a really nice-looking setup, and everyone has eclipse glasses. We break out our gear, including the solar binoculars. We can see the moon is already starting to take a bite out of the sun.

Tim looks under our vehicle and sees a bent cover of the differential housing which is emitting a slow drip of fluid. Uh, oh. We poll the other 4WD drivers and one fellow advises us to get back down the hill and call a tow truck before we lose too much more fluid. Ugh! We so want to stay at this ideal place, but our home is leaking, and we don't want to jeopardize the rest of the trip, so we pack up and head back down to the main road where it is reasonable to get a tow.

We find a parking spot on the flats. It is 70° out so we open the sliding door wide and turn off the furnace. Then we break out the gear again. We have eclipse glasses, solar binoculars, and small solar filters to fit over the cell phone cameras. The moon has taken a much bigger bite out of the sun. Dora sits bored next to the camper as the adults fiddle with gear.

For repairs we try the Mercedes Benz dealer in Santa Fe. Their repair department is closed until Monday. We abhor the idea of being towed and having to wait days just to have our rig looked at. We turn off the inverter just in case we have to make the battery last for three days without a charge.

Dora is hunched over at the side of the vehicle, shivering. It is COLD. In the space of less than a half hour it has gone from 70° to 50°. That shows how much of the sun's light has been blocked. We put on her winter coat and then don ours. The ring of fire is close.

We search apprehensivly for a repair shop that might be open on a Saturday and whoa, we find Redline Repairs. We call them and they answer immediately. They are a mobile repair service that comes to us. Yes, they work on Sprinters like ours. They ask us to send our location and a pic of the damage to the differential housing. They are available to make the repair today. Yay!

The moon's crescent closes to a ring, first lopsided, then symmetrical. It's awesome. The eclipse glasses are our main tool, but the solar binoculars work great, too. The camera filters come with an app to help take pics, but we can't seem to get as good a.view as we get.with the other instruments. We manage to take one pic through the binoculars, tinted very green due to the binoculars' filters.

The ring distorts and a gap opens on the side opposite where the ring first closed. The gap points in the direction where the eclipse shadow is headed, streaming across Texas, Mexico, Belize, and on down into South America.

We had seen many vehicles climbing the hills earlier in the day. A few of them start to trickle back down. We text family and friends, and watch the sun slowly return to normal.

We call Redline Repairs to see if they have had a chance to look at the info we sent them. It turns out the repairman had just taken his kids to see the eclipse and would be at our rig soon. We crawl back inside, turn on the furnace, and have lunch.

Lalo, the repairman soon arrives and in less than 90 minutes has us all fixed and ready to travel again. What a relief. We reflect that getting up so early and packing so much into the early part of the day probably contributed to over exuberant driving and the subsequent accident.

We are not going to make it to our friend's place at the Lake Pueblo Marina tonight. We decide to treat ourselves to a campground with showers near the marina. We set off for a final long drive. We put our heads on our pillows with the pleasant thought of meeting friends tomorrow and no more long drives for a while.

[dispatchesfromunknownkadath]

Writing - A Post That Hit Me Hard: Human Moments

Hello, my name is Justy.

I'm resurrecting this old dream journal blog of mine (again) because I have thoughts and dreams that I really want to get down, because, well, have you ever had a thought or a dream that you thought was really great, but when you try to remember it, it was gone? I feel like that sometimes. Looking back over my old dreams, some are clear as day, others are fuzzy, and others still I can't remember dreaming. However, since I wrote them down on here, I can remember them even though I don't remember them.

That brings me to the Bluesky post up at the top here. I was scrolling Bluesky this morning while I was eating my post-workout breakfast, saw this post from someone I followed, and my scrolling came to a dead stop. Like the title says, it hit me hard. It made me recall a bunch of Internet things from the 1990s-2010s that, at the time, felt like fluff--silly Flash games, forum threads, chat rooms, dead fora run by friends as a lark and then forgotten about, pictures, experiences in MUDs, the MUDs themselves, whole webpages and webrings, even custom maps in games like Counter-Strike and Warcraft 3--but that are basically gone forever.

It didn't make me feel like I wasted my time. Far from it, I remember these moments I had with other people online fondly, but... those moments are gone. Maybe some of my real life friends recall a few of them but for the most part, I'm the only one that does. That made me indescribably sad in a way that, to describe it clinically, my poor expressive capabilities make hard to articulate.

Yes, there is the Internet Archive, but as I kept thinking about it, I thought of the refrain I heard most growing up around the Internet: everything on the Internet was permanent. As I replied to the post above, we're collectively learning that that's not the case. The Internet has been siloed off from the 1990s Wild West of bad HTML and Geocities pages to comment pages and platforms that can be easily turned off. Pages can be deactivated. Patreons can be closed.

And that's just at the amateur level! Whole platforms and sites filled with uncountable man-hours of hard work can be bought by people who don't understand them and degraded/denuded into irrelevance. Articles can be migrated from platform to platform until they break. Art like movies or TV shows can be lost to licensing squabbles or horse trading between streaming services until it can only be viewed either on an (itself-degrading) physical medium or pirated.

As I finished my breakfast and went to take my shower so I could get ready for work, I thought about all this as it relates to A.I. and got more upset. Multiple times over the holidays I saw that Coca-Cola ad made by A.I. and I just had this visceral revulsion to it. It was--like all A.I. images or movies I've seen--too slick, too clean. A regurgitated facsimile of human creativity to simulate warmth that did the exact opposite and left me dispirited. There was also the news that Meta was coming out with A.I. profiles, with the one they proudly touted on Instagram being a queer POC A.I. posting A.I. pictures of donating fake coats to a fake clothing drive. Disgusting. Totally disgusting.

I thought about all this in the shower, and well... I confess: I cried a bit.

I'm not doing too well lately mentally, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized that during the low parts of my life, it was some of these (sometimes-silly, sometimes-meaningful) human moments online that brought a smile to my face. These moments sustained me during emotional downturns in my real life, and I feel like the rulers of the Internet now are trying to actively prevent these interactions.

As I prepped for the work day, I felt like I really had to write this all down somewhere or tell someone about it, just to get the thoughts out of my head. But where?

So I came back to my dormant dream journal Tumblr.

While lots of animals seem to dream, I feel as though ascribing meaning and feeling to dreams is a human thing and thus writing my reactions to the post above here felt the most human. I want to get back into recording my dreams, as wild and chaotic (and boring to others, admittingly) as they are. It makes me feel things. It makes me feel human.

When I got to work, I texted my wife to tell her I loved her. I saw another Bluesky post from someone I followed that desperately needed $20 for bus fare and a charging cable. I donated. I went on Discord to the Discord I use to talk to my friends and said I hoped they had a good day. I said the same thing on another Discord I'm on with some people from Bluesky (all of us previously from Twitter and previously from SomethingAwful's forums). I went on an Evangelion Discord (Evageeks, I'm a huge Evangelion fan) I'm on and said that, while I've seen the main Evangelion releases multiple times, that I can't always put into words the things I'm seeing or the questions I have, and expressed appreciation to the members that they're friendly and tolerant when I attempt.

I don't know.

Human moments online.

New ones to make up for the ones only I remember.

[nikitaoutside]

25th August - 1st September

Landed in SK at 5 in the goddamn morning, and it's just as hot as it was in the Philippines if not hotter. I still have my stupid shell coat on, but I have to suffer with it on because I have two bags, and handbag and a backpack to look after now. I walk through what feels like the entire length of the airport trying to find the taxi rink (there was no way I was going to try and access public transport like this, what a guaranteed sensory nightmare), and thank the lord that the hotel I need to go to is a popular enough destination that I can see the sign for taxis going to Bupyeong.

The taxi driver was a very sweet old man, and we desperately tried to communicate to each other. Eventually one of the rink officers had to be called, but then we were off!

This man! Drove like a F1 competitor! At one point he was going 140km/h. It's nice to know that taxi drivers are all the same worldwide, I guess.

I was worried I wouldn't be able to use my card in SK, and I would have to pay cash to this man, but luckily the card worked. The conversion fee is also not bad so I'm not even going to open up a Korean bank account or anything.

I go up to my room, battle with my HEAVY ass door, trying to push my luggage through. There's a raised metal threshold which is making that very difficult, and I'm almost in rage-tears at this point. When I make my way in, all I can do is stand in place under the airconditioning, trying to cool down, both physically and mentally. By this time it's around 6am and the breakfast buffet opens at 7am. I also have to go to Gangnam later to pick up some documents, but all I can think about it is sleeping. So I shower, take a nap, and wake up 7:30am, to go eat possibly the saddest breakfast in the world.

I'm so nervous to be there, and trying not to look confused and out of place, that I rush through the line super fast. The end result of my plate is... not pretty. I have a bunch of lettuce, some acorn jelly, two bits of seafood salad and plain rice. All I can say is that it was filling... but coincidentally, it's also the last time I go to the breakfast buffet. I had a fantastic view though from my seat, overlooking the plaza square below.

This was the first and last time I saw it so empty.

I eat my sad breakfast, and then decide to nap AGAIN before making my way over to Gangnam.

At around 1pm, I wake up from my nap and start my journey. Naver maps is incredibly helpful, and Seoul rail system is amazing and easy to understand. The efficiency reminds me of the London Underground, another amazing rail system. It takes almost 2 hours to get to my future accomodations... I see a humorous station.

My accomodations are also a 15 minute walk from the two closest stations... so I'm going to be getting those steps in no matter what. Once I pick my documents up, I decide to have lunch at a cafe, with considerably more appealing-looking food, in that it actually looks like a prepared dish, rather than a plateful of bare ingredients.

I adored the little ice cubes in my drink!! Something about it was so... Texture.

Once I finished I started walking back to the station, when I was stopped by a man (yes, he was cute).

Him: Excuse me--

Me: Yes?

Him: 혹시*... do you speak Korean?

Me: No, sorry 😅

Him: Ahh. Do you live around the area?

Me: No, sorry 🥹

*this means "by any chance" in Korean.

At this point we both smile embarrasedly at each other and walk away. In fact, he was smiling pleasantly the whole time, I think it might've just been me embarrassed at my lack of response.

Now... during this interaction, I thought he was eventually going to ask me for directions, so I was really surprised he didn't. And then I was really confused as to why he asked ME, a person who definitely does not look Korean, if I could speak Korean. On top of that, he was talking to me in English?? So language was not a barrier for him?? ON TOP OF THAT, there were some Korean men walking behind me that he could've asked these questions to? I'm actually baffled at that interaction and can't figure out his reasoning...

But can you believe that something stranger happened after that? The aforementioned group of Korean men ended up walking in front of me and look what I noticed them holding...

UM HELLO???? COLES??? IN MY NEIGHBOURHOOD??????? They were carrying MULTIPLE coles bags, and I checked!! Coles is not a supermarket in South Korea AND the men were definitely speaking Korean! SO I can only conclude that they recently travelled to Australia, or are Australians travelling from Australia, and decided to bring their trusty Coles bags with them. What???

The rest of the week is spent getting my sim card. On Tuesday (27th) I go to Sinchon, and see one of the loves of my life on a wall, and also a surprisingly apt name for a restaurant with a spicy menu:

Once I had my mobile, I did some necessity shopping at Daiso, and had lunch: tomato eggs and rice. Ugh, sooo fkn good, I still think about it (I'm typing this on the 15th of Sept, so that shit means something).

On Thursday I had a Banh Mi at the Vietnamese restaurant next door and it was okay... I've had better ones in Australia, which is crazy.

And then on Sunday I dropped my bags off at my Gangnam accomodation because uni was supposed to start on Monday, and I could not check in AND attend glasses, so my host very graciously offered to keep the bags at the accom and then I could check-in the next day. That worked so perfectly for me, I was ecstatic. I was so scared to ask her, because it felt like too big of a favour to ask, so the fact she offered first was amazing.

[tammyhybrid21]

ALRIGHT!

Who wants some random/dumb headcanon thoughts on iterators?!

Also yes I do view the generations a bit in opposite solution to what MOST of what I’ve seen others do. Instead of each gen been dedicated more to the problem it got less central... which then leads to gen 3 iterators been the generation that took the loss of the ancients the worst.

“None of us miss them” the loss of half of their original purpose. Any wonder they have bad copes.

To be honest most of this is just going to be me noting stuff down for self-reference, but hey-- you folks can take this information for your own use as well. Also notice, this isn’t the specific order I drew things in and you can get the vibes as it goes how I got more solid view over the course of doodling.

But the generations and their purpose, no. These are pretty set in my head.

Bunching these thoughts together, mostly because they’re all on the same/similar topics. Time to talk about the puppets. Because they are what we see the most in the game. Also yes, I am outing myself as an “Off the String is Possible” believer. But I also will thoroughly admit I am a lover of the Iterators are hiveminds headcanon as well... although I view it more like it’s a whole symbiotic ecosystem...

Anycase, notes that didn’t quite make it into any of these pictures because I didn’t know how to draw/explain like that-- the synthetic “skin” of an iterator is either very, very short grass or a kind of moss/lichen covering. The colour variation is kind of random as a result and yes this does mean theoretically an iterator could change colours if ever they felt the need to.

The internal “flesh” parts of an iterator are I imagine similar in consistency to mushroom fibre/flesh. Squishy... Yet still firm enough to keep its shape beneath the jelly like membrane that carries coolant/blood throughout.

I have more thoughts on puppets and eating but drew it more like as a joke page.

These are all possible because an iterator puppet’s moss/grass skin is basically able to absorb what’s around it at any time. Well, as long as it’s willed. So iterators got options from the traditional “smoosh” food into your face to just having the “soup backpack”...

Sunshine is also “yummy”... but I do sidenote that it’s not as effective as a source of power/energy and more like a quick pick me up, the equivalent of eating a single banana and calling it your entire meal for the day.

Also an iterators stomach/filtration system internally is actually biological as well, but that didn’t exactly get drawn here. Mostly because how does that translate to pictures, I’m not good at this stuff.

Side note, don’t know if you folks looked at the page, but with the intake pipe, imagine if that were a map in Rain World... you just saw this pipe sucking in water and hey that’s curious-- only whoops it’s your death, you are food.

Not pictured how the processing strata is the iterator structure equivalent of a mycorrhizal network. Seriously though how would you even draw that?

Anycase this is where the symbiotic hive mind side of things come into play. Without the puppet it’s not like the structure would just-- stop. It would just be a lot more mindless. Working away continuing to go about the same processes just without purpose. It’s an extension, extras on top. Neuron flies been one of the few exceptions but even they can be worked around it’s just... very much a loss.

Also yes this is my headcanon reason why Pebbles is still barely conscious in Saint’s timeline. He’s just also half frozen and plants do not cold well. Or actually they do incredibly well in cold it’s just, he’s half in dormancy.

I should have spoken more about the mechanics of the structure and all, but honestly... It’s all the signals sent out.

Also void stuff... I don’t know if I’ll return on any of these things but eyo...

[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!!

[matthew-gray-gublers-babygirl]

Just The Two Of Us - Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Summary: Roger and the reader go on a little getaway to a cottage. that's it. Very fluffy. 

Warnings/content: minimal swearing, smut, mention of kinks/sexual experimenting(dom/sub, spanking, orgasm denial, etc - does not go into detail), vaginal sex, fluff, mention of insecurity

Word count: 3.1k

Roger was always the vacation type. He loved going to tropical places, or at least places that were sunnier than London. He would sometimes spend hours sunbathing. He once made the mistake of tanning in leather pants and you teased him ruthlessly until the tan line faded. He was a tourist at heart, even if he tried to act like a local. Luckily for him, his career allowed lots of travelling. 

Roger had declared that this vacation was going to be different. You weren't exactly sure in what aspect, but nevertheless, you were still over the moon. 

You rest your head against Rogers shoulder as he drove. You had been driving for hours, and by now you were in a forest and miles away from the nearest convenience store. He had you on map control, but you were still confused. “Are we there yet?” you ask like an impatient child. “Actually, yes,” Roger says with a laugh.

You hear as the pattern becomes different. The car shakes ever so slightly as Roger turns into a gravel road. “Ah ha!” he grins. “Knew we’d find it,” he hummed confidently. You sit up straight to get a better view of your surroundings. “And… what exactly is it?”

Roger slows down as he reaches a small house at the end of the road. “This,” he says proudly. You look out through the windshield and are greeted by a humble farmhouse-like cabin that was covered in flowers and vegetation. You always had a liking for older buildings like this. 

“Oh, Rog, I love it!” you smile and give him a kiss. “I knew you would,” he hums. 

The interior lived up to the outside, and maybe even topped it. Every room had exposed beams that were stained dark brown. The walls were a plaster substance, making the texture pop out as the natural sunlight hit it through the muntin windows. You were practically squealing with excitement as you toured through each room.

Roger joined you in the middle of the room you were currently in. The hardwood floor creaked slightly as he walked over. The little imperfection added to your love for the cabin.

“This is much better than a resort,” you say as Roger's hands wrap around your waist and your arms meet up around his neck. “I’d say,” he hums. “We’ve got the whole thing to ourselves, just the two of us. No other tourists, no workers. And, most importantly,” His hand slowly slides down to cup the curve of your bum, “No fans,” 

Roger loved the fans, of course, but his main focus was his number one fan, you.

“Oh shut up,” you laugh. You stretch up to meet his lips in a warm kiss. You feel his hands run up and down your right side and your back. His touch was insufferable. His arms wrap around your waist, squeezing you which rewards him with one of your heavenly laughs. 

Roger picks you up and spun you around, the creak becoming louder with both of your weights under it. You kick your legs as Roger peppers kisses onto the side of your face and neck. You giggle from the tickles of his lips. You were always so ticklish and Roger used that to his advantage every chance he got. 

You plead with him to stop as your chest tightens but he only replies with teases of “stop what?” and “I’m not doing anything!”

God, you hated him.

Roger eventually stopped the torture and you could finally gasp for some air. “I hate you!” you laugh breathily as your chest heaves. “I love you, too,” Roger grins in his cockiest voice before he gave you a soft kiss on the forehead.

After you catch your breath, Roger suggests that you unpack your things. You neatly tuck away your clothes into a rustic dresser in the master bedroom. Roger had to keep bringing your back to reality after you got distracted by all the little details of the room. The bed was a king-size mattress, and Roger eyed you up as he lay sensually on the bed. 

“How about we break it in?” he asks with his right eyebrow cocked slightly. You giggle at his suggestion. “We could,” you say as you join him on the neatly made bed. You trace your finger along the embroidered comforter. Your fingertip trails further down the threads before you slowly entangle it into Rogers palm. 

“Is that a yes?” he asks as you gently massage his palm. You gaze down at him with a small smile. “It is a yes,” you say. With that quick confirmation, Roger's lips were against yours yet again. He never gave up a chance to be physical with you in any form. He loved to kiss you all over and hear you giggle. If he had to give up his career just to be able to hold you in his arms, he would. No questions asked.

You feel his hands reach up to your cheeks. The pads of his thumbs graze across the peach fuzz of your skin. You shiver from even the slightest contact. He was gentle. He was always so gentle. Unless you asked for him to be rough, then in that case he would seriously fuck you. That mostly happened when you were too horny to think. But you always came back to the meaningful lovemaking.

You slowly push Roger further down onto the bed, and he lies on his back rather than his side. You straddle his hips. He smiles against your lips and you feel his smirk immediately. You couldn't help but smile as well. 

“What's got you smiling?” you ask, and Roger lets out a hum-like laugh before he speaks. “Just like having you on top of me,” 

You laugh before shutting him up with a kiss. Your hips revert to their instinctive motion as they begin grinding against Rogers lap. You hear a soft grunt vibrate against your lips. Roger always got flustered by the simple movements of your hips. His hands trail down your sides to find your hips where he begins guiding you. 

Your mouths open in mutual agreeance. Your tongues slowly begin analyzing the insides of the suitor's mouth. The lewd sound of your mouths felt wrong but was so delightful in the strangest and most unexplainable way possible.

Rogers hands slip under your blouse. His rough and calloused fingers slide across the silk-like material. He migrates his hands to the front where he fumbles with the tiny buttons. He had a longing thirst for you, and these darn pearl buttons were in his way.

You could feel his frustration, so you slowly remove his hands from the hem of your shirt and unbutton it for him. “Fuck- thank you,” he laughs as he takes a moment to breathe. You laugh with him as you unbutton it. You let the silk shirt slide off your shoulders and it falls off the bed. 

Roger cups your breasts as they are still encased in your bralette. You always preferred wearing bralettes rather than push-up bras in the warmer months, and Roger wished you wore them all year round. He loved to squeeze and fondle your chest, and your bralettes allowed him to do that even without undressing you fully. 

Ultimately, his hands were already attempting to pull it off. He always preferred you in nothing. You tut at him as he gripped the clasp. “You've got me half naked and you're still fully clothed,” you point out, and he lets out a laugh. “Be my guest,” he hums. With his invitation, you pull off his light blue t-shirt and are met with his slightly toned chest. Oh, how you loved his physique. He had muscle, but not too much. He had a pair of strong, broad shoulders, along with a little tummy. And of course, you couldn't forget his cute bum.

You let your hands trace abstract lines down Rogers's chest as you meet his lips yet again for an open mouth kiss. He purred against your lips as chills sent through his body. “Baby…” he whispers longingly. “I need you…” 

Your hands reach the top of his jeans. You tug on his belt buckle slightly before carefully undoing it. He hears the familiar sound of his pants unzipping, and he becomes more passionate with the kiss. His cock was almost fully erect by now, you could feel he pushed up against your core each time your crotch ran over his jean-clad length. It was painfully pleasurable. 

As you manage to take off his skinny jeans, his hands are back on your bralette again, this time he successfully took it off without any teasing or protests. 

You hum as Roger kneads your breasts gently. He fondled and squeezed your chest in such a way that sent shivers all throughout your body. His thumbs teased your nipples, causing them to harden under his fingertip.

You open your eyes to give Roger a slightly confusing gaze as he parts from your lips, leaving them wet, swollen, and missing their partner. His lips wrap around your right nipple, causing you to inhale sharply from the sudden moisture. 

“Oh, Rog…” you whisper as your hand comes up to card through his unstyled blonde mop. The pleasure was so close, yet so far away at the same time. “Please, baby,” you beg softly as you gently claw at his boxers. 

Roger let out a small chuckle against your skin before he kissed up your chest and gave you a warm, affirming kiss. “Want you to ride me,” he hums as his hands run up and down your jean-covered thighs. Even if he always loved fucking you on top, or slowly making love with you, he could never get enough of the sight of you on top of him, bouncing over and over again desperate for some form of release. 

You loved the idea of riding him, but Roger could protest that he loved it more.

“Have to get rid of these first,” you quickly begin to unzip your own jeans and remove yourself from his lap to take them off fully. The only thing holding you back from complete delight was two layers of thin fabric. 

The scene was almost comedic. You were both only in your underwear like two virgins not knowing what to do past this point, but you knew what to do. You knew Roger's body so well, as he yours. You knew each and every vein you had to touch to make him moan in pleasure, and you knew every little place to kiss and caress to make him hard as a rock. 

Likewise, he knew just the right speed to lick your little pussy, and how to curve his fingers just right to make your orgasm all over his digits. 

Roger wastes no time as his thumb begins slowly rubbing over your clothed clit. A small wet spot was already appearing from your arousal. You whine against his lips as he pushes against your sensitive little clit. 

“Please…” you beg. A smirk tugs its way onto Roger's lips “What?” he laughs. You take his hand and bring it up to your mouth, placing gentle kisses along his knuckles. “I know you want this just as much as I do,” you squeeze your legs around him tighter, causing a slight groan from him. 

“It's so hard to resist you, Y/N,” 

“So don’t resist,” 

Your panties were now off. Roger snatched them before you could toss them onto the ground. He sniffs your arousal off the fabric and he groans from the heavenly smell like the sexual fanatic he was. A matching wet mark appeared on his boxers. You both knew he wasn't going to last too long. 

You quickly peel back his boxers and slip them down his legs and off his ankles. His cock was hard and ready for your entrance. Now, completely naked, Roger reaches up to kiss you hungrily. “Fuck- ride me, baby. I wanna watch you fuck yourself with my cock…” he growled into your ear. 

You whine at the phrase. You needed him. You needed him more than you needed anything. You grasp his cock, pumping him slowly as you lube his length with your own arousal. Lube wasn't needed, that's how wet you were. 

You hear Roger whimper from your wetness on his sensitive cock. “Fuck me, baby. Please…” he begged softly. He was so needy at times. You loved when he begged. You had experimented with submission and domination before. Roger loved having control over you, but of course, was always cautious. He loved it even more when you were in control of him.

Roger often read kinky magazines and brought a new idea up to you when he found one that interested him. He enjoyed spanking you, and sometimes he would tie you up. He never got too extreme out of fear of hurting you. He always made sure you knew your safe word.

Of course, he has had his fair share of being submissive, as well. You’ve put him in handcuffs before and tried a bit of orgasm denial. He always looked so cute with his big blue eyes staring back at you, begging for more. 

You always felt most connected when things were equal, but you both always end up begging the other for their body. 

You align his tip with your entrance, you feel as he gently pulsates against it. He lifts his hips slightly in the hope to enter you, and you reward him by slowly lowering your hips, meeting him halfway. 

Roger chokes out an airy groan as he enters you raw. “Oh, baby…” he whispers softly. 

You roll your hips against his pelvis, letting out a whine as he fills you completely. “So tight for me, baby girl…” he praises as his hands roam your hips, squeezing every bit of flesh they could grab onto. His head leans back onto the recently fluffed pillow. 

He could tell it was stuffed with feathers rather than cotton. Yet again another aspect he knew you would love and go on a little rant about once you noticed. 

Roger was engulfed in your heat. He groaned in delight with every subtle movement and flux of your inner walls around him. You were rising to the seventh heaven as you continued to ride Roger's cock. You let out a soft moan, causing Roger to jolt his hips upwards.

“That's it,” he praised softly. “Moan for me, petal…”

You gave him what he wanted, and you moaned once again. You moaned his name, and it was music to his ears. 

Roger let out a low moan as he gripped your hips, his knuckles on the verge of going white. “Don't stop, love,” and you don't. There was no way in hell you were stopping.

Your breasts naturally bounced up and down as you rode him. Your right nipple still glistened with Rogers saliva as the natural light hit it. You were at times insecure about your chest, but Roger was always there to comfort and reassure you that there was nothing to be ashamed about. 

He constantly gave you kisses and whispered compliments of how much he loved your body. He never gave up the chance to cop a feel, as well. As your relationship grew, you learned to love your body for how it was.

The sweet, sweet release of ecstasy was on the tip of your tongue, but you couldn't reach it, like the hand of your lover ghosting your palm before it abruptly pulled away. A shot of pleasure gets sent through your body like IV fluid being fed into your veins. Your gaze moves down and you see Roger's thumb pressing up against your clit again, rubbing in steady circles.  

Your moans instantly increase in volume as Roger's cock continues to disappear inside of you faster and faster. “Come for me, baby. Come all over my cock…” 

Your hips shudder from the pleasure, and Roger keeps the pad of his thumb firmly on your clit. You moan in delight, both of you completely bewitched by the elevating pleasure. The bed beneath him ceases to exist as his body and mind swims in euphoria. 

The only thing you are able to feel is bliss as you indulge in the serenity and privilege of sexual pleasure. Your hips shake with anticipation as your orgasm grows closer and closer. 

Like a tidal wave rushing over the shore, your body transcends to another consciousness. Chills get sent through your bones, skin trembles as you experience your orgasm. You moan Roger's name and cry out for mercy.

Your inner walls flux tightly around Roger's length. “Oh fuck, Y/N!” he moans. Your come coats his cock, and the sight of your white arousal covering him had him done. His come shot inside of you, groaning like a starving animal as he fills you up entirely. 

You collapse onto Roger's chest. Your skin was tacky as you lay atop his sweaty chest. It was disgusting, but you wouldn't have it any other way. 

“You're amazing…” Roger quietly praised through heavy breaths. “You are, too,” you managed to get out. Roger shook his head with a smile. “You did all the work, petal,” he points out. You let out a small giggle. You suppose he was right.

You slowly lift your hips, releasing Roger from your heat as you both let out a hiss. “Cuddle with me, love,” he hums. You agree and roll over beside him once your breathing has returned to a steady pace. He drapes a quilt over your naked bodies, but the only thing you're able to focus on is Roger's scent. 

You always noticed the little things, but you suppose that's what everybody does when they're in love. You could smell his sweet sweat and the remaining cologne on his skin. You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck to get a stronger smell, and while you're there you gently kiss his jaw. He always loved your tiny kisses in that area. 

Yes, the sex was amazing, but you always looked forward to the loving cuddles and kisses after. Especially after some rough play, Roger was the most loving and gentle man on the planet. 

Roger wraps two protective arms around you, holding you tight in a hug. “I love you, Y/N…” he whispers into your hair. 

You smile against his skin. “I love you, too, Roggie…” he blushes at the nickname. If anybody else in the world were to call him that name he would bash their head in, but when he heard it in your soft voice which he loved so dearly to hear, he melted right on the spot every time you said it. 

“These pillows are made of feathers,” you observe, and he laughs. “Yes, Y/N. Yes, they are,”

He knew you were going to love this vacation.

[majimemegoro]

begging you to share that kiryu haruka and rikiya wip

Summertime Clothes / Fireworks

It was Haruka’s first time on an airplane - Kiryu’s, too - and she had been glued to the window as they took off, watching the runway streak by and then fall away, the city come into view below.

“I can see Kamurocho!” she exclaimed. The easily-recognizable Millennium Tower drew her gaze, and from there her hours studying the map and walking the familiar streets made it easy to locate West Park (no, Kamurocho Hills, now) and Theater Square, and made it easy to imagine she could see Serena, Kanrai, Karaokekan; see Yuya-san enticing customers into Stardust for the late afternoon shift, see Nishida-san sitting on the steps outside the Batting Center, see the strays that played in the alleyways at the west edge. Every second the plane rose higher and Kamurocho diminished and Tokyo grew. “It’s so cool, Ojisan, we’re so high up!”

“There’s no reason to be scared of airplanes,” Kiryu said. “They’re very safe.”

After a brief glance at him - he was staring straight ahead, jaw clenched, gripping his armrests - Haruka turned her attention back to the window. Soon Tokyo itself shrunk and disappeared beneath a shield of clouds.

Haruka kicked her feet against the seat and looked out the window while Kiryu perused the airplane safety packet with great attention. Finally he put it away and sat back.

She dug around in her purse. (It was pink, with little kittens of different colors all over it. A gift from Uncle Majima.) “Want to watch me play cat’s cradle, Ojisan?” she asked, pulling out a piece of string. “I think I’ve finally gotten the hang of some really tricky moves.”

“Sure,” Kiryu said, shifting in his seat and sounding relieved for the distraction. “You’ll have to explain what you’re doing, though.”

“Mhm!”

She kept him busy the whole time - cat’s cradle, I spy, battleships. He almost broke her string when she tried teaching him to do cat’s cradle on his own; his fingers were too big and blunt, and he didn’t know his own strength. He got tangled up and nearly caused disaster trying to pull free. But it passed the time.

Okinawa was hot and humid and lush, and that was the first thing Haruka noticed about it. The plane landed (Kiryu audibly let out a sigh of relief) and they waited patiently to be told they could disembark. From her window seat Haruka could see the moving walkway, tunnel-thing being moved to the door of the airplane. The seatbelt light turned off. Kiryu stood, cracked his neck from side to side (Haruka flinched in disgust, but he would probably never be able to break the habit so she didn’t bother criticizing) and stretched as best as he could given his height and the cramped space, and then he got their luggage down from the overhead container. They had to wait a long time to actually get off the plane, because they were at the back. Cheap seats. But as they passed into the tunnel, the humidity hit them. It was like stepping into a totally foreign clime - which is exactly what it was.

Automatically Kiryu looked down to exchange a glance with her, a look that would have appeared neutral to anyone else. But Haruka could see that his eyes were a little wide, his eyebrows a little raised. Surprise and wonder. She smiled back at him excitedly and held his hand, while pulling her own rolling luggage with the other.

The baggage claim was crowded, but luckily enough their one suitcase of checked luggage was one of the first to come out. Most people, Haruka figured as Kiryu hefted the big rolling bag and worked out how to secure his own duffel on top of it, would have more than one big suitcase if they were moving across the country. But she and Kiryu were not most people.

The airport had a smile burger and Kiryu asked her if that would be an okay dinner. She said yes; a last taste of the familiar, in a new context. Like a goodbye.

The Smile Burger menu in Okinawa was slightly different from what she was used to.

They ate, and then used the airport restrooms. Haruka tried to go fast, but even so, by the time she finished Kiryu was already lurking by the entrance of the ladies’ washroom, fairly radiating anxiety and making the other women there nervous. His eyes shone with relief upon seeing Haruka emerge. She patted his arm reassuringly.

Kiryu smoked a cigarette outside the airport, the Okinawa sun golden on his shoes only, because of the angle of the sun and the roof over the sidewalk. He tilted his head back to blow the smoke away, and the hand that didn’t hold his cigarette hung loosely but its fingers fluttered and drummed against his leg. It was hot. Haruka looked in wonder at the palm trees by the road there. It was like in a movie.

Kiryu finished, tapped the cigarette out in a receptacle, and coughed a little. “Thanks for waiting, Haruka.” Always serious.

“No problem, Ojisan.” He had bought her a juice to drink while he smoked and she carried it with her, taking little sips, as they moved on. It was mango.

After a brief false start they found the train and Kiryu fumbled with his money and bought tickets and asked her again if she was sure she had all her luggage, and he carried her bag as well as his own and the large suitcase onto the platform and then onto the train, and she sat quietly watching the scenery rush by as Kiryu looked from the window to the train route map to his ticket to the directions and address on his phone, over and over and over again.

“This must be Ryukyu,” Kiryu said, peering out the window and pointing at the small city as they passed.

Haruka saw a snatch of restaurant signs, too fast to read. “Well, it sure isn’t Tokyo,” she said.

Kiryu hummed agreement.

“I’m looking forward to getting to know this city,” she said.

And Kiryu hummed again, and checked the directions on his phone for the fiftieth time.

When they got off at their stop Kiryu carried their luggage down from the train onto the platform. The sun was soaking the whole world orange, like the sky itself was drenched in light. The sunsets in Tokyo never looked like this, never cast the whole scene in their colors. Maybe it was the buildings blocking too much of the sky, or the neon spoiling it. Or maybe the sun really was different in Okinawa.

Kiryu wiped at his forehead. He took off his jacket and draped it over his shoulder and rolled up his shirt sleeves. “We’ll walk from here,” he said. “It should only be about twenty minutes or so.”

“Okay.”

Kiryu stopped when they hit the unpaved road. “It’s bumpy,” he said. “Do you want me to carry your bag?”

Haruka was tired after the long day, but Kiryu was also drained - she could tell from his posture and the look in his eye. And he was already carrying their combined suitcase as well as his own bag. “That’s okay, Ojisan,” she said with her brightest smile. And she took his hand in hers once more, and led the way towards their new home, dragging her luggage along the dusty little road.

There were probably only about five minutes of walking left before they reached the orphanage when Kiryu stopped, the gravel of the track crunching and settling under his feet. Haruka looked up at him. “What is it?”

“I’m... nervous,” he admitted quietly. “I’ve never done anything like this.”

“Neither have I.”

She could see his throat and jaw working, like there were words inside him that wouldn’t come out.

“Ojisan, let’s sit here for a minute.” She tugged him over to the low wooden fence on the ocean side of the road and scrambled onto it. His hand, of course, appeared on her back to steady her. In Kamurocho, they would have had to worry about their suitcases being snatched; here, they left them behind without a second thought. As Haruka settled down with her legs dangling over the side, Kiryu vaulted effortlessly over the fence and balanced beside her, staring out at the waves rhythmically flashing over the rocks. They caught the dying sunlight and almost looked more like fire than water.

“It’s so pretty,” Haruka said. She kicked her feet and tall grasses, their seedy tops blazing in the light, brushed against her toes. “We’re so lucky we get to live here.”

Beside her Kiryu made a sound of uncertain agreement. She turned to look at him.

“What exactly are you nervous about?” she asked. “We haven’t forgotten anything, and you planned out the switch carefully... Imai-san won’t be leaving for another week while you get settled in and get to know the kids.”

“I know.” Kiryu’s gaze was still fixed on the horizon. In just a little while the sun would dip into the sea, there. Just when Haruka was about to give up on him and ask another question, he spoke again. “What if-“ he sounded strained, like voicing any uncertainty was something he wasn’t used to and hated. “What if they don’t like me?”

She patted him on the arm, looking up at him, hoping that just a proportion of the fondness and faith she felt would come through to him in her gaze. “They don’t have to like you,” she said. “You just have to take care of them as best you can. Will you do that?”

“Of course,” he said solemnly, with a little quizzical frown. “That’s what I’m committed to.”

“Then they’ll like you,” Haruka said with certainty. “You’re the kind of person that the right people will always like. It might take them some time to warm up to you, though, because you’re so scary and shy.”

His frown deepened. “I’m not shy.”

Haruka giggled and held his hand, and they watched the sun set in red fire over the sea. When darkness fell they slipped off the fence and set off again under a velvet blue sky filled with more stars than the whole galaxy had a right to.

Over the next few months as they got used to Sunshine, watching Kiryu was like watching a long-dormant flower begin to bud and spread its petals to the sky.

Though he thought he had hidden it well, for awhile he had continued to be terrified that the kids wouldn’t like him or that he would do a bad job. Haruka could see it in the tense set of his shoulders and the unnatural timbre of his voice when he spoke to them, like he was forcing his throat to make sounds higher and thinner than it was comfortable with, like he was talking to a particularly frightable cat. But as time passed he warmed to them and they warmed to him. His voice dropped back to its natural warm bass, the most comforting rumble that could ever be heard while receiving a band-aid or looking for sympathy after a failed assignment. And Haruka got to watch him slowly chopping onions with an adorable look of infantile concentration, and Haruka got to watch him fall in love with the other kids over and over again, and Haruka got to watch him settle into Okinawa like it was the place he was born to but had lost and forgotten and only recently returned to.

Taichi, Ayako, and Mitsuo, who had been at the orphanage the longest, bought Kiryu the red Hawaiian shirt for the first anniversary of his arrival at Sunshine, and Kiryu’s face flashed through so many expressions in such quick succession that it was impossible to read them all, but it settled on an embarrassed but colossally grateful look that, coupled with the shining tears visible (if you were looking closely) in his eyes, made Haruka fall in love with him all over again and wonder what she had done, what she had ever done to deserve the chance to watch him blossom like a flower, slowly opening and displaying color and drinking in sunlight, as though he hadn’t already been an impossibly beautiful person and the best father she could ask for.

Life in Okinawa was like leaving a nightmare behind and waking to find the brilliant white light of morning spilling across your pillow and birds singing outside. Someone who didn’t know Kiryu might have still found him taciturn and cranky, because his perpetual scowl never really smoothed out. But in between, there was something more: he stopped treating smiles like a precious and perishable commodity that heralded disaster.

That is, he smiled more - fragile, tiny little things like baby birds, breakable but beautiful. Haruka loved watching his haggard smile break through as he listened to Shiro explain some new idea he had, or as he watched Riona and Ayako try out new hairstyles on one another. This is what it looked like: for a beat he would seem almost surprised, and then his eyes would crinkle, making him look old and tired and lovely, and then the corners of his mouth would turn up just enough that they weren’t downturned. And the expression was very small but very radiant, in a way that conveyed, to those who knew it, that he was conscious of how much he had paid to be able to smile, and how it had once seemed impossible.

Kiryu never looked like he had forgotten how dangerous smiles were, and he never looked like he could quite believe he was allowed so much happiness. But it was there, and when they all sat sun-soaked at the front of the house he would catch Haruka’s eye and give her a fond, grateful look, and she could almost feel how full and healed his heart was, or at least she could imagine that it must have felt something like hers. And they fell in love with Okinawa.

She still worried about him a little, because most adults seemed to have friends their own age, or at least people who weren’t children that they were friendly with. Kiryu didn’t. The nearest neighbours warmed to him reasonably well after a brief period of tension. But even Miyara’s blind, disarming friendliness couldn’t break through Kiryu’s armour. The normalcy of it all scared him. He would have been more comfortable with a punch to the face than with chummy small town small talk.

As for the non-immediate acquaintances, who didn’t get the chance to witness Kiryu’s relentless gentleness or his dedication to the kids, even those who didn’t know about his former occupation were intimidated by his size and obvious strength and the intensity of his gaze, a burning energy that wouldn’t pale no matter how much he tried to fold into himself to mingle with the kids’ classmates’ parents, or people in the shops in town. He had no frame of reference for these parental-type interactions and after a burst of effort for about a year after coming to Okinawa, the forays into the unknown reverted to an old and practiced silence. He met with teachers and stood beside the kids’ friends’ parents at events all with a studious blankness, a deep focus that conveyed total propriety, total attention, without ever displaying or inspiring comfort. Kiryu preferred being separate to trying to be the same as people he couldn’t understand. Still, Haruka sometimes wondered if he was lonely. Outside of the small selfish part of her that wanted him to need her only, she knew there was more. One person wasn’t (and shouldn’t be) sufficient for anyone, because people needed someone to take care of and someone to take care of them. She took care of Kiryu as much as she could, but there were probably things he would need someone else for, like an adult or a man. Someone more like Uncle Majima, but... less like Uncle Majima.

These were the half-formed worries she occupied herself with in the rare moments that admitted worry. So after the brief scare of having Sunshine staked out by the local yakuza, she was surprised but desperately thankful that it resulted not in kidnap and Kiryu getting drawn into some ridiculous plot and tragedy, but in something brand-new and strange and wonderful.

Kiryu met Rikiya.

And Kiryu bloomed.

The first time Rikiya and Mikio came over to dinner, Haruka was suspicious, of course. Kazama-san and Kiryu notwithstanding, she had not had favorable experiences with yakuza. (Majima had made it up to her and was now located solidly in her good books, but his actions when they first met were neither atoned for nor forgotten. She still had nightmares. It made her feel guilty, to be so afraid of a person she actually liked. But it was nothing to the dread guilt she could see in his expression when he recalled what he had done.)

(And Nishikiyama. Kiryu had somehow managed to forgive him. For Haruka, who had not known or loved him ‘Before’ - as Kiryu referred to it in soft, gentle tones that she hated - anything other than disgust was impossible. Kiryu had stopped talking about Nishikiyama, eventually. But the photograph stayed in Kiryu’s top drawer. Five people: Kazama-san’s warm, wry smile, Kiryu’s stoic intensity, and Nishikiyama’s winning glass-edge grin: the face of a boy who would become a monster, and even then displayed, to Haruka’s view, the signs of it. Between him and Kiryu, a girl who resembled Nishikiyama - his sister. Haruka didn’t know her name. And Haruka’s mother. Haruka hated that photo. If she ever put Kiryu’s laundry away she had to look at it, and she always wanted to snarl at Nishikiyama’s winning smile, snarl for him to get his arm off Yumi’s shoulder. Monster. It was testament to Kiryu’s boundless heart that he could hold love for such a thing, after everything. Could make memories of a monster sacrosanct.) (Kiryu never asked her to forgive Nishikiyama.)

The three of them - Kiryu, and the two yakuza - walked into the dining room where Haruka was doing her homework. Half-alarmed, she rose to her feet.

Kiryu said, “Haruka. This is Mikio. Rikiya.” He gestured at each in turn. “They’re staying for dinner tonight.” And then without pausing to explain he turned and left again.

“Hi.” Rikiya gave an awkward little wave and Mikio a slight bow.

“Nice to meet you,” Haruka said, expressionless.

“Working on your homework?” Rikiya asked, looking at the notebook still open on the table. “That’s cool.”

Haruka said nothing. Rikiya cleared his throat and stepped a little closer.

He crouched down to be closer to her level. “I got something for you,” he said, holding out his hand.

Wary, she extended her own after a pause. Rikiya handed her a lollipop in the shape of a green bear. She frowned, not so naive as to be bought by food. “Thank you,” she said politely.

“I’m, ah-“ he rubbed the back of his neck. “I heard me and Mikio scared you guys. Sorry about that.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that he would start off by apologizing directly. Majima’s regrets had taken longer to materialize, and been delivered spontaneously and gracelessly.

“Can you forgive us, Haruka-chan?”

She looked at Rikiya carefully. There was no sign of a threat in his earnest expression. The question was a question, not something more.

Before she could answer, Kiryu brushed past her with an armful of food from the pantry. “Can you get Rikiya and Mikio something to drink, Haruka? I’m getting started on the onions.”

She blinked. She looked back to Rikiya. “Ojisan seems to have forgiven you,” she noted.

Rikiya grinned abashedly. “Aniki is a good guy.”

Her eyes widened, but before she could respond, “Don’t listen to him, Haruka,” Kiryu broke in over his shoulder from the kitchen. “He’s just using the name.”

There was a fond, disparaging familiarity to his tone that was almost alarming - because it came from Kiryu, the composed, stoic loner, the calm father, the man who was ruthlessly devoted to his kids but had made no friends since coming to Okinawa. She had never heard him speak to anyone in Okinawa with anything other than perfect, implacable stolidity. So the new nigh-playfulness was alarming. But more than alarming, it was beautiful. She met Rikiya’s eyes. He smiled at her.

“I promise we won’t do it again,” he said. “Aniki resolved everything with the boss. Nobody needs your land anymore. The Ryudo Family’s got your back from now on.”

“Okay,” she said.

“So do you think you can forgive us?”

“I’ve forgiven others for worse,” she said after a short pause. Then she smiled brightly. “Thanks for the candy,” she said, brandishing it.

“Oh, no problem!” Rikiya said. “Least I can do to make up for causing worry. We got some for all the kids.” He shook a little paper bag. “They’re, uh, they’re from Mikio, too.”

Mikio waved.

“Thank you,” Haruka said again. “And I’m glad you decided not to mess with us. You would have regretted it.”

Rikiya’s eyebrows raised, surprised and impressed at the intensity of her gaze. “I guess so,” he said with a slow smile. “Aniki‘s a beast. He wiped the floor with me when we threw down.”

“I’m not surprised.”

Rikiya stood up.

The kids took to him and Mikio like the little fish took to the shallows; like they belonged together. Kiryu had a sense of humor and he always did his best to encourage the kids’ fun, but at some fundamental level he was serious. Rikiya and Mikio could be serious, too, but they had silly streaks and they were fun in a way that Kiryu rarely was, and they brought out the fun in him. An old spectator, Kiryu could be convinced only by Rikiya to join in with these extravagant and inventive flights of fancy: the talent show, the “rock concert” complete with brooms as guitars, the obstacle course, the yakuza movie reenactment on the beach as the sun went down.

Kiryu’s Kansai accent was garbage, and Haruka laughed so hard she fell sideways into the sand and lay there and kept laughing. The sand still held onto the heat of the day and warmed her skin like a bath. The finale of the ‘movie’ resembled its inspiration not at all, but its actors’ passion carried it through - albeit as comedy rather than drama - and as Rikiya choked out his life on the sand with exaggerated death throes that had even Kiryu suppressing laughter, the kids all burst into wild cheers and applause, helpless from delight.

Kiryu and Rikiya and Mikio took their bows, the kids applauded and whooped yet again, and the ocean crashing on the beach seemed to join in the acclamation.

Kiryu, flushed with embarrassment and quiet delight, threw himself down into the sand and tugged Izumi close on one side and Koji on the other. Koji stuck out his tongue and made a little scrunched up face of regret, but it was just for show: he settled under Kiryu’s arm and pressed close.

Haruka crawled over and clung to Kiryu’s wrist. “You should have been an actor, Ojisan!” she declared. “That performance was worthy of an Academy Prize for sure!”

“Agreed!” Rikiya said, flopping down on his stomach beside them. Taichi and Eri immediately jumped on his back, clearly still in the throes of violent ecstasy from the dramatic (ridiculous) climax. “Oof,” Rikiya said. Mitsuo and Ayako ran right past his face. “Kids, watch it with the sand!” he said.

Kiryu said nothing, just pulled Haruka into the embrace and ruffled Koji’s hair and kissed Izumi on the top of her head.

Afterward in the blue darkness they all made their way up the beach to the house, and Kiryu was holding Riona’s hand and Ayako’s hand and Ayako was holding Eri’s hand, but Kiryu’s attention was all on Rikiya. And Rikiya’s grin over the top of the sleeping Izumi’s head as he carried her inside might have lit up the whole town. Rikiya’s smile was incandescent. And Kiryu drank in that light, and reflected it back.

As she waited to fall asleep, Haruka could hear Kiryu and Rikiya taking in low voices from the kitchen, late into the night.

thank you for reading thats all for now. the title has a slash mark because the story is in two pieces, one set before and one after... Oh You Know. that character death in y3. if you read this please tel me what you think!

[thecraftymagician]

Hcs for traveling with Julian? 👉👈

The sheer amount of songs and montages that are flooding my brain at this lol This is kinda vague but I think I get what you mean! But seriously the amount of inspiration I have just firing off my brain like pop-rocks from random montages and random quotes like "All right..! Cuba!" and "What were we talking about? ..Oh! Barcelona!"

Disclaimer: I have not read the tale where you in fact travel with Julian to Nevivon, I'm sorry!!

Warnings: Fluff!, some extra cheesiness grated on top by an olive garden server, *spoilers* Julian's Route

When with Julian Traveling..

He is so so excited, traveling is one of his most favorite things but you already knew that. During his pirate days he didn't exactly get a say in where they went, nonetheless enjoying every new adventure. He's had a bit more choice when on the run but those days weren't the best. There is a very slim amount of places he's not willing to return to because of.. some trouble he got into, but otherwise is open to just about anywhere. Because of that he'll insist you pick since you haven't gotten out much. If neither of you can decide he'll suggest throwing darts at a map and planning a trip from there.

Julian is the type to be very go with the flow and not have a strict itinerary or anything. Alot of his adventures have been more so spontaneous but this time he tries to plan it out a bit, at least making notes of places he know you'll love, spots to avoid, etc. Like at the end of his route, he's open to forgetting things in packing or random mistakes along they way. That just makes the experience more unique and exciting!

The whole journey to he's telling stories, cracking jokes, playing cards with you, etc. He'll tell you alot of what he knows of the place you're going but will save alot for being there in person. He's just so excited to see your face and hopes you love it just as much as he does.

When you get there he'll have you rest up before exploring. He'll be sure to take you to certain tourist spots but only the ones that aren't overrated unless you really want to go, which is fine by him honestly. He just wants to avoid things that might disappoint you. There will be plenty of amazing hidden local spots he'll take you. Cozy cafes, hidden caves, scenic hikes/lookouts with views, little dance halls/clubs, boutiques and shops, street performers, and anything else you might be interested in. He'll take you out to experience the night life if you're into it, take you on his own tours and explain the history and architecture; He'll tell you everything he knows.

He also knows alot of languages, more than likely the dialects spoken where you go. At the very least he can hold polite conversation, place orders, ask for the bathroom, etc. and of course swears. He knows enough to talk himself out of any trouble just in case. Of course he's more than happy to teach you what he knows, insisting on learning in the elements though because it can be easier and more fun/simulating. You can trust him though, he's not going to teach you something that will make you look bad or make you say anything rude to someone on accident.

The trip at the destination will likely only be a week at the shortest but when it comes to an end it's bittersweet. On the ride back, Julian is already trying to pin down the next trip. Yes he brought the darts and the map. During the trip the two of you would've picked out souvenirs for your friends as well as for yourselves. Julian might make a game out of imagining living there either just as a passing thought type thing, a hypothetical or maybe to remember for later on with retirement but that's still pretty distant in the future.

[dabisqueen]

The Captured Pt.4

Shigaraki x Reader x Dabi

⇢ rating: 18+

⇢ word count: roughly 4.6K

⇢ plot: Being held hostage at the LOV HQ, you are Shigarakis "Spoils", but can't help falling for Dabi. This makes for a troublesome situation

⇢ warnings: 18+, noncon, rape, mean Shiggy, soft Dabi, blood, cum, creampie, smut, alcohol, force, vaginal sex, oral sex (male receiving), orgasm, threatening of quirk use

⇢ NO MINORS ALLOWED!!!

personal note: uff, finally the ending. i tried pulling it all together, i hope you like doming shiggy just as much as I did. Enjoy! Awh… and soft fluff dabi <3 <3

Pt.3

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Back in Shigaraki's room, he hurled me towards the bed, but I caught myself before falling onto the mattress and faced him. 

“Shigaraki stop, please listen to me!"

“Why should I?” He asked with a sharp throaty chuckle.

“What if I tell you that what you've had with me so far was only like the normal loot in one of  your games. What if I told you, I could show you what it feels like to get the epic one?” 

That got Shigaraki’s attention. He stood still, observing, red orbs glaring at me. 

“If I don't fulfill my promise, you can do whatever you want with me." I swallowed hard, “but if I do, I want you to let Dabi and I be.”

He cocked his head, a slim smirk forming in his face. Still mistrustful and a bit hesitant, he finally nodded, rasping “Ok, this better be interesting”

The room was dipped in dim blue light, the soft hum of the computer filled it as we stood there, unmoving. Between his pale tufts of white hair hanging into his face, I could see his narrow eyes were staring expectantly at me. He was tense, his hands curled into fists. His whole composure was one of an animal in a fight or flight situation.

I slowly stepped towards him, positioning myself directly in front of him, looking up. “Well,” I leaned in, tilting my head so that our lips were close to touching, “let's go get that magic loot then.” I could feel his hot breath on me, this time not as unpleasant as usual. I had gotten used to the damp linen and dust smell constantly engulfing him.

Raising my hands up to his face he flinched back, eyes darting like a deer in headlights. Kind of adorable I thought. As he didn't move, I slowly started running my fingers through his hair, pulling and tugging on it, watching him inhale through tensed lips, breath coming out in short ragged pumps. I tugged harder at his hair and he let out a small raspy whimper. The sound sent a jolt of tingling heat straight through my body and had my core tense up. I moved to cover his mouth with my soft lips and eagerly sucked up his sweet moans. It just took a second before he leaned into my kiss, his lips a bit dry and chapped, but I didnt mind. My tongue slid into his open mouth, finding his, circling it until I heard another raw groan escaping his throat. I pulled back, a string of silvery saliva connecting us as I stared into his already lust blown pupils. Kissing his jaw this time, I leaned in again, moving down to his neck, starting to suck that one special spot he kept picking and scratching so often. That made him throw his head back and let out a deep, gutural rasp of pleasure and I could feel his legs go weak. Releasing my lips with a plop, I marvelled at the dark bruise starting to form and let out a soft giggle. 

As he tilted his head towards me again, I could see a rosy hint spread across his usually pale face. Huh, cute, I thought and couldn't help a smile spreading across my face.

I took him by his wrist and led him on his bed, pushing him down so he rested his back on the sheets. He looked so frustratingly adorable, almost helpless under me. I positioned my legs to each of his sides, noticing he still had his fingers balled into fists. His breath hitched in his throat as I started tangling my fingers into his hair, tugging at those pale locks again. I bent down for another one of his sloppy yet deeply satisfying kisses and he didn't disappoint, instantly mouthing at me. 

Heat started to pool at my center as I ground against his quickly hardening length, sending shudders through his body. I sucked his lower lip, catching it with my teeth, nibbling and pulling on it. My actions had him whimpering and bucking his hips underneath me, and I noticed his enormous bulge straining against the fabric of his sweats.

I pulled back to grab the hem of his shirt but his hand caught mine with lightning reflexes, pinkie raised. He looked panicked, shaded gaze fixed on me, still panting. I tuttet at him, shaking my head "Nuh-uh." He winced but loosened his grab around my wrist and I continued to pull his shirt upwards, revealing the impressive musculature of his torso, littered with scars and marks. He lifted his chest up a bit so I could take the shirt off completely and then I pushed him back onto the bed. As he laid bare chested below me, I noticed the thin trail of pale tuff leading down his belly towards his pants and I couldn't keep myself from sliding my fingers over it, playing with its softness. He winced and drew out a ragged breath, still watching me, eyes dazed and elated. 

With my soft fingertips, I started mapping out every gash and scar that marked his skin, tracing them, feeling every ridge and wrinkle as his chest rose and fell with his tense breath. I bent forward, moved to pepper kisses down his pale neck. I bit him softly, licking over the marks with my tongue before sucking them into bruises. I continued littering his throat down to his chest with those marks as I slowly scooted down between his thighs to get a taste of the rest of him.

Opening the strings holding his sweats up I curled my fingers under their hem, pulling them down. His massive cock bobbed out, already hard and glistening with precum. My cunt started switching in anticipation when I took in the delicious view. Shigaraki helped me pull his pants off entirely and then he laid back in front of me, completely naked.

I lowered my lips and started tugging on his white curls, biting and nipping at it, then moving to the side and peppering his hips with soft lingering kisses and nibbles. I slid my tongue down towards his thigh leaving a wet trail, kissing and biting his skin softly on my way there. Biting harder, sucking bruises, I continued to pebble kisses and little nips everywhere as he kept wincing, eyes half-lidded, his hips stuttering and bucking. My soft cheeks were touching his strained length as I moved to lick all around his sensitive parts, always too close to touching him. I kept repeating it until he was a panting, sobbing mess below me. 

Finally showing some mercy, I wrapped my fingers slowly around his dick and heard him whimper as soon as I made contact. I marveled at the deliciously solid meat in my hand and applied pressure, having him buck into my hand immediately, his voice cracking. He looked absolutely hypnotized by now so I moved and hovered my mouth over his dick and slid my tongue out. The second it touched the slit of his tip he croaked out a desperate grunt, his eyes rolling back in his head. I licked the pre off, savouring the sweet, salty taste and then took his tip in my warm wet mouth, while he kept panting and groaning uncontrollably beneath me. Flicking my tongue over his sensitive tip, I slowly descended, trying to take as much of him in as possible. I hollowed my cheeks and started to move up and down, circling my tongue around its ridge, flicking it over the top and letting it slide across his length. I cherished the heated whimpers and moans that spilled from his mouth as I forced his dick deeper down, almost swallowing him until he hit the back of my throat. My jaw hurt from the stretch but I didn't care, this was just too delicious. 

I started increasing the pace, sucking hard and relentlessly as I noticed myself becoming more soaked by the second, the heat between my thighs now undeniably intense. Suddenly, his movements become erratic and his breathing forced. The way his cock switched in my mouth told me he was bout to cum. I pulled back instantly, releasing him with a plop and quickly squeezed the end of his cock where the head joined the shaft. He let out a painful moan, his teary red eyes shot at me, a mix of pain and fury in them, but I kept a hold on the squeeze until his dick no longer twitched. He let his head fall back, whimpered loudly, the come down had to be miserable. I gave him soft kisses of sympathy as I praised "Want a reward, Shigaraki?"

He nodded frantically and I extended my arm, slowly pressing two fingers to his lips and watched him open his mouth. He swallowed my fingers, sliding them against his wet hot tongue. He closed his lips on instinct, a deep groan leaving him, rumbling through my arm into my body. The empty look in his eyes and the way he sucked on my fingers were priceless. I kept moving my fingers in and out, watching the drool drip down the sides of his mouth and down his cheek. Pulling my fingers out, he whimpered at the loss but that was cut short, when our lips found each other again, his mouth opening, tongue searching for mine. I caught it between my lips and started sucking on it, bopping my head up and down until he helplessly groaned into my mouth.

“Do you wanna be inside me now, baby?" I purred into our kiss.

"Yes- please” a desperate raspy moan left his lips.

I slid my leg over to straddle him, planting my knees on either side of his hips. His eyes were glazed over, lips slightly parted. So adorable! He carefully gripped my plush hips, pinkie raised. My core, wet and warm, hovered just above his pulsating length as I started dragging my slick folds along his red swollen cock. I kept rocking my hips back and forth to feel more of that hot, delicious friction where our bodies met. Gazing up I noticed the priceless look on his face - blushing and shaking, biting his lip to hold himself together. 

As I stopped rutting, his misty eyes slowly met mine. I moved forward, positioning myself over him, my wet folds kissing his tip. Holding his gaze I leaned down, mere inches from his face, fingers laced into his hair as I slowly pushed back onto his dick. The second the tip started disappearing into my hot wet cunt he totally lost it. His whole body started to shudder, cock pulsating eagerly as he buried his hands in the sheets, dusting them in an instant. But neither of us cared.

The stretch in my core was immense, the pressure so intense, it had me wincing as I slid down his length. Even the slightest movement had him moaning, loud and shameless. It took a couple of ruts until he was fully inserted and I paused, letting me get accustomed to the pressure. I rolled my hips and he started whining, digging his fingers into my flesh, as he managed to press out with a trembling voice "Stop, 'mclose." I noticed him twitching violently inside me, so I stopped and waited. It took a few minutes for him to regain control, while I kept stroking his hair, giving him soft tender kisses of praise. When he finally gave me a hint of a nod I rocked a little in response. He groaned and his eyes rolled back, rasping whines mixed with sobs as I slowly started moving. 

“Oh, f- fu-..." Shigaraki was too out of it to finish the sentence.

His hair stuck sweatty to his forehead and his coarse lips were slightly open, glistening wetness in their corners. It made my whole body tingle with pure pleasure, seeing him so thoroughly broken down. His body ached as I came up and dropped back down hard on his length, letting him strike that one special spot inside me with his immense girth and making his face twist in pleasure. The stretch was almost too much, it had me panting soon, his ridge and veins constantly rubbing against that one special spot. The pleasure built in a steady crescendo as I moved faster, feeling my core tense up. 

“Fuck- oh fuck,” he hissed out with strangled moans, as I kept taking him in as deep as I could.

I increased the pace and suddenly he took over, grabbing my hips and fucking into me. My walls clenched around his length with every rut of his hips, my small cries building into loud heated moans. He let out a steady stream of needy whines and swears as he kept pounding his hips into mine. His breathing became hard, each push of his hips had me hurling towards an unknown edge. A white heat flared up inside I had never felt before. It kept increasing with an insane pressure that would soon have me exploding. My fingernails dug sharply into his shoulders, leaving red marks as he gasped at the feeling of it.

Keeping up that relentless pace, the pressure became unbearable, my core suddenly releasing all it's build up tightness in a mind-blinding high. I went rigid and all I could feel was pulsating white heat that left my mind blank. I threw my head back, a loud keen erupting from deep within as it hit me in waves and I spasmed, a clear liquid gushing out of me, splashing against Shigaraki's pelvis, abdomen and my thighs as he continued rutting into me. "Fuck..." he stuttered as I kept coming around him, gummy walls clenching around his length with every rut of his hips. He didn’t hold out long after that, red-faced as he shuddered, a primal groan escaping his throat and he spilled over, his hips sputtering as thick and hot loads of his release coated my insides. It was such a great relief it had him in tears, breathless sobs shaking his chest as he continued riding out his high. 

He sagged back, his garnet eyes glazed over, lust-drunken emptiness in his expression as he was panting, trying to catch his breath. His hands were curled into loose fists and he stared at the ceiling, cracked lips slightly parted. His pale skin had a deep red tint, his hair stuck in sweaty disheveled strands to his face and I couldn't help but grin at how fucked out he looked.

Absolutely spent, I slid off of him, feeling his still half-hard dick sliding out, his sweet release gushing onto him. I collapsed into bed right next to him and we laid there, shoulders touching as I tried to stop my heart from beating out of my chest. The silence between us was not heavy but comforting, mutual.

Shigarakis’s breathing eventually evened out, he was still staring at the ceiling with half-lidded eyes, crimson pupils opium blown.

“That was-” his words slurred in exhaustion.

“Yeah.” I breathed, still struggling to get off my own high.

Neither of us spoke again.

Shigaraki eventually broke the silence, “Did you ever think about joining?” He moved his head to face me, his red eyes glowing intensely in the dark.

“Joining what?” I was kind of dumbfounded. 

“The League, Spoils.” he huffed annoyed, “I think you’d fit in well.” 

I jerked my head towards him, eyes wide with disbelief, “Seriously?!”

“Not gonna repeat myself.” He scoffed.

“Uhm... Yeah, I think that would be really awesome, Shigaraki.” 

“Call me Tomura.” he paused, “I... I could even get a quirk for you.” 

Totally speechless at his offer, I propped myself up, now staring bluntly at him. Silence settled between us as he stared back at the ceiling. 

“So, what about Dabi and me?” I prodded. 

“I might be a fucking menace, but no cheater. A deal is a deal.” he snapped exasperatedly, “you're off the hook.”

“Thank you, Tomura.” I smiled with honest happiness. 

I took in his sight. He still had a rosy hint tinting his usually pale skin, pupils still enlarged. I reached over, running my fingers through his hair, gently tuggin all the sweaty strands out of his face. He let me do it and I was able to get a closer look at him. Under all his scars, the chapped skin, he was really handsome. Fine facial features, slender nose, just the right curve of his lips and cheekbone. Strong yet delicate jawbones. At that moment, something about him had my chest fluttering unexpectedly. I stroked him along his cheek, bent over and kissed him one last time on his lips. Our eyes locked and a soft smile formed on my face as I said “Good night, Tomura.”

I slowly stood up, got dressed and turned towards the door. One last look over my shoulder I saw that Tomura had followed me with his gaze, the dim blue light outlining his undressed silhouette. A smile left my lips, one last moment with him and I left. Closing the door behind me I went to the bar and was greeted by a total mess. 

“What happened?” I clasped my hands in front of my mouth, chairs disheveled, tables topped over. Everyone was gone, except Toga. 

“It’s you!” she squealed with excitement, eyes lighting up at the sight of me. She had apparently waited for me, hopped over and greeted me with a “Missed you, Sis." As I still stared at the mess in front of me she gestured around “Oh, yeah, that. Well, after you left, Dabi went apeshit in here. And then took off.” She waved towards the exit, unnervingly close to my face with her knife, “Noone really cared to clean up after that scene. But I stayed, waiting for you to come back!” she beamed.

After a moment of silence she looked at me, sheepish grin in her face as she wiggled her eyebrows “I think Dabi likes you"

“No shit,” I recoiled, starting to clean up the mess, propping up the chairs and tables. 

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Dabi didn't return that night, nor the next morning. Shigaraki couldn't care less, he just went about his usual business, although treating me with utmost respect after our last encounter. I was getting worried about Dabi so I asked Spinner and Kurogiri for their help. I was biting my nails in nervousness and every time Spinner returned through a warp hole and shook his head, my guts wrenched. It wasn't until nightfall, we were sitting at the bar, discussing what other place to look for him next as we heard a loud thump at the main entrance. Our heads flew around, eyes transfixed at the door, as it flung open and Dabi stood there, leaning lazily against the door frame. He let go of it, swaying, head hung down, hiding his beautiful face. He stumbled towards the bar, using the chairs and tables to keep himself from falling over. Spinner whistled amused but I slipped off the stool and rushed toward him just in time to catch him from falling over, huffing under his weight. 

He mumbled something, slurring, his heavy-lidded eyes searching for mine until our gazes met. Time came to a halt as we took each other in. Tears pooled in my eyes as he rested his head against my neck in an apologizing gesture. He reeked of whiskey, smoke, burned flesh and bones. It made me cry out loud even louder. A soft tug on my arm pulled me back to reality and, looking up between tears, I saw Spinner next to me, nudging his head towards the hallway. He wrapped his arm around Dabi and we both dragged him off to his room. 

Dabi slumped onto his bed and I turned around to thank Spinner, but he just shrugged it off and left. Dabi was sprawled out on the sheets, still fully clothed as I managed to get his shoes off. His black coat was not as easy to remove - with a little bit of his help, it finally fell to the floor with a heavy thumb. Dabi laid on his back, breathing heavily, eyes closed. I sat down next to him and started stroking his jet black hair, cupping his face. His eyes opened slightly and he looked at me. His sensual lips parted and he slurred out a “M'sorry...” as he leaned into my touch. I felt a tear run down my face as I leaned in to kiss him. His hand moved up to wipe it off, gently stroking my cheek. "C'mere," he pulled me towards him and I snuggled into him, ignoring the smell of burnt flesh that seeped through his own musky scent. I had been waiting for this the entire time, us, together, no hiding any more. He kept stroking my hair, placing gentle kisses on it as I enjoyed the feel of his skin and staples on my cheek. As we laid there, our heartbeats steadying, becoming one, I knew that this was my place to be. After a while, exhausted but happy, we both drifted into a warm, long overdue sleep. 

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I awoke in the morning, Dabi's head nestled into my neck, his breathing regular. Enjoying the silence, I slowly stroked his hair, marveling at how soft it was, despite him almost never combing it. He inhaled with a yawn, stretched in my arms and nuzzled his head into my soft skin, mumbling a good morning into it. I cherished the feeling of his hot breath on me, his warm skin on mine. As he lifted his head to meet me for a kiss, tears welled in my eyes. He looked at me quizzingly, “What's up, doll face?“ propping himself up on his elbow. "You scared me,'' I whispered, lashes thick with tears, " I thought I'd never see you again." 

He chuckled lowly, kissing my chin, “Naa, won't get rid of me that easily." His hand moved up to wipe away the tears, cupping my face and stroking my skin with his thumb. We staid like this until I had calmed down, getting lost in each other's eyes. Eventually, he nuzzled back into my neck, inhaling my scent and kissing my pulse. "But-" his words soft and apologetic, “Should've stepped up for you much earlier. I was a shitty jerk." I shushed him, playing with his hair between my fingers. "It's ok. It will be better from now on. Tomura-" Dabi raised his head in surprise, "will leave us alone. I am not his Spoils anymore"

"How'd ya do that?" Honest surprise in his voice as he propped himself up again, his cerulean eyes staring into mine. 

"Secret-" I winked and he scoffed exaggeratedly, leaning forward to meet me in a deep kiss. “I'll find out sooner or later…" he whispered into the kiss. As our interactions were getting more heated, his hands moving towards my breasts, I pushed him back. 

"Let's go take a shower - this time you reek," I laughed softly and he smirked at me "Ok doll, but ya coming with." 

We got up and Dabi slid his fingers between mine and gave me one of his crooked smiles. It made my heart skip a beat and I couldn't suppress a wide grin in my face as we made our way towards the bathroom. We sensually undressed each other, hands roaming along each other's body, lips tugging, tongues groving. We barely made it underneath the shower, Dabi flipping on the water as he put his hands around my thighs and lifted me up with one strong jerk and manhandled me against the wall. As the water kept pouring over us like hot rain, our kisses intensified, tongues playing, lips nipping, mouths sucking, drinking in each other's moans. Our bodies were pressed against each other, fitting together like two parts of a whole, finally complete. The longing was so intense, we skipped the foreplay and he sheathed right into me, groaning loudly as I sank onto his length. He was rough, his grunts and hoarse growls made me shiver. Both pain and pleasure hit me at once as his thickness spread me open. The throb of his cock every time he bottomed out inside me was more than enough to have me see stars. He kept hitting that sensitive spot over and over again until my body was trembling in his arms. He stared up at me, deep insatiable hunger in his eyes, filled with fire, longing and passion. I felt myself hurl towards an orgasm at lightning speed with the pace he kept up. 

I moaned into his passionate kiss m’gonna cum and he groaned in response, burying his face into the crook of my neck. As I felt the tension reach its peak I let out a loud whail, closing my eyes as my walls clamped around him, wave after wave of pleasure rolling through me, having my mind fog over. Dabi's groans muffled by my skin as he sheathed balls deep into me one final time, shooting his sticky white load deep inside me. The water kept washing over us as we both panted, coming down from our high. Our lips met, kissing longingly as we whispered sweet words of affection into each other's mouths, endless strings of love you and mine and need you.

After we left the shower, dried ourselves and got dressed, he sat in his recliner, legs spread and palms resting on his crotch. He cocked his head, eyes half-lidded, a smug grin on his face. 

"So, babydoll, what'd ya do to have Shigaraki give up his Spoils?"

I smiled seductively as I stepped up to him, cupping his face in my hands, lips so close I could feel his breath on mine. I looked into his smoldering turquoise eyes, his smug grin still on his face as I lowered my lips to his ear and breathed out “I fucked that Sub senseless... “ 

I straightened up and saw that his grin was replaced by a blunt stare, eyes wide with disbelief. I strolled towards the door, glancing back at him over my shoulder. "Coming with me or just gonna sit there and keep on gawking…"

His perplexed expression changed into a wide smirk as he jumped up and sauntered over to me, hands in his pockets. He flung one arm around my shoulder, pulling me towards him, humming approvingly “Damn, babygirl, need to show me what you did to him. “ 

"Oh- tonight, tonight I will" I cood, tangling my fingers into his hair, bringing him in for another kiss as he chuckled, sliding his arms around my waist and pressing me to his body.

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