DCA Hanahaki

DCA Hanahaki

Welcome back friends enemies and spectators this time Sun/Moon get Hanahaki

Everything from the last story holds true EXCEPT you have a boyfriend

At first he only sort of bothers Sun, but Moon in their headspace picks up that he doesn't respect you and may be abusive in the future. Moon hates him.

Sun starts to fall for you but you stay with your bf.

One day he decides to introduce you to Moon/ OR Moon decides he needs to meet you and turns off the lights and he scares the shit outta you at first

Then the shameless teasing begins. You guys play hide and seek which Moon always wins.

Your boyfriend picks you up from work every day and Sun freaks him out. He tries to get you to quit and just live off his paycheck.

Moon overhears this on the outside cameras and gets angry until you say you love your job, but you love him more so you'll consider it

Dear GOD the flowers start to grow it acts as a virus in their system. Due to the radiation his internal core gives off his flowers grow thickly.

He can't cough them up, BUT he does go to Parts and Services more often after forgetting a childs name and you imploring them to go down

When he goes he makes you leave, but you peak in once you know he's plugged in. It's Eclipse and he's upset about something while the Engineer/ Mechanic removes the flowers and subsequent damage aka the virus

Confused you walk away unsure of what you saw and scared for their health and whatever Eclipse was.

You return home to a livid boyfriend for being late and he tries to keep you from work. He hits you when you say you won't do it and try to leave anyways. You're knocked out he drops you off at the hospital and leaves you there

You report the abuse and go home after a day has passed and find all his stuff is gone and a letter apologizing but still blaming you. You change the locks and decide to go to work.

Sun/Moon return to work only to find you not there nor any reports saying you're sick. Suns anxiety is through the roof. He starts to chip away his paint and bend the ends of his sun rays

Moon is angry. That night he tears into several service bots in his room before finally crumbling once the flowers grow too much.

Sun wakes up horrified. You returned! Turns out you were breaking up with your boyfriend at that time. Sun is too happy you're finally single until Moon chimes in that you look... Lost? If not traumatized

You heal with them and for now their Hanahaki stays dormant... Until you start dating again

They take a left turn and are in Parts and Services by choice just in case they fall apart. Fazbear entertainment is just waiting for them to burn out at this point.

You're crazy nervous and you realize you've fallen for them. You tell them everything's fixed.

I genuinely didn't know how to finish this one other than all's well ends well hope you enjoyed

SO ANOYONE WANNA TELL ME WHY THERE IS BARELY ANY HANAHAKI FICS FOR THE DCA BOYS?????

Like listen- I'm not the biggest fan of angst. It's not really my cuppa tea, y'know? But I LOVE the hanahaki disease trope in fanfiction. It's the one piece of angst I will always be willing to cry for! But I just realized that there is so little of it for the DCA boys in x reader fics, and I'm just over here like: D:> !?

Like- IT'S SUCH A GOOD TROPE AND HARDLY ANYONE IS TAKING THE OPPERTUNITY TO USE IT IN THE DCA FANDOM!!! All my writing buddies out there- PLEASE write Hanahaki disease fics for DCA x Reader, I don't do fanfiction and I can barely write as is. I will literally kiss you if I find you wrote some.

Sincerely

Your gay little mouse

I CANT BELIEVE YOUVE DONE THIS CRUMBS THEN A CLIFFHANGER?!!! AHHHHHHHHHH

The writing is so amazing and god I can't wait to see how their story arc goes. I hope we get a scene with Ellie telling them both they're being dumb and to look at her and Dina.

Apothecary - chapter three

joel miller x witchy!reader

series masterlist

someone comes looking for her help that she hadn't been expecting. joel continues to grapple with what's true and what isn't. lines are crossed that they won't be able to come back from.

warnings | 18+ canon-typical violence, angst, spooky vibes as always

................................

She knew it was too good to be true. It always is. They always are. She shouldn’t have let herself believe him, that he wouldn’t let the people in town sway his mind. She had wanted, more than anything, for it to be true. She had wanted him. But it’s been two weeks since she’s heard from Joel Miller, and she’s finding herself having to quietly accept that he’s just like the rest of them. 

The first few days after they went up into the mountains together, she managed to reason to herself that he was just busy with patrol shifts. But a few days turned into a week, and then something happened that made it clear to her that he wasn’t just busy. She had been wandering along the tables of the weekly town market, Stevie close on her heels, when she saw him a little further down the way, arms crossed over his chest and talking with Tommy. She smiled when his eyes met hers, only feeling a little dorky for the small wave she offered him, but his face had been unreadable, flat, expressionless. He didn’t so much as acknowledge her, muttering something to his brother before turning heel and walking away. Away from her. When she got back to her shop afterward, the sweet bunch of sunflowers she had traded for had all wilted and browned, crisped petals falling off the shriveled stalks. 

She hadn’t felt embarrassed like that in a long time, the thick skin she had developed living in Jackson usually protecting her from it. But the way that he had ignored her, practically shunned her, had a slippery heat creeping up her throat that she never wanted to feel again. She hung a wreath of rosemary and lavender on her front door and the door to her shop that night, a protection she learned from her mother. And the next day, she took to the task of forgetting all about Joel Miller, and the man she thought he was. 

It hasn’t exactly been difficult to distract herself. Afterall, it seems like there’s always someone else with some sort of affliction, needing her help. But things become complicated when, one night, someone comes knocking on the backdoor to her shop that she hadn’t been expecting.

“Um, hi– hello. My friends sent me, they told me you could help?” She squints at the girl in the dim shadows, the only light coming from inside her shop.

“You’re Ellie, right?” The girl’s face brightens at that, worry smoothing out as she nods.

“Mmhmm, yep. That’s me.” Joel’s kid. She has only seen her in passing around town, but she recognizes her right away.

“What do you need help with?” Ellie bites her lip, eyes darting around a bit before settling back on her.

“Could I– can I come in?” She hesitates, but nods, stepping aside to let the girl into the back of the shop. 

“Woah, this place is so fucking cool.” She has to laugh, watching Ellie’s wide eyes roam around the back room as she shuffles inside, her head whipping around to the sound of the back door shutting.

“You said you needed some help? What’s going on?” Ellie lets out a nervous laugh, her brows scrunching up as she smiles at her.

“So, just for the record, I don’t believe what everyone says about you.” Her brows raise at that, stepping around Ellie to tend to the pot she has going on the stove.

“You don’t?”

“Nope– I mean, I know you help people. But I think it’s a little ridiculous to be calling someone a wi– I mean, unless you like being called a witch, then I think that’s cool too–” She laughs lightly at Ellie’s nervous ramble, turning away from the stove to offer her a reassuring smile.

“It’s alright, Ellie. You can call me whatever you want to, really, I don’t mind. But what I would like to hear is what you need my help with.” Ellie nods jerkily, taking a sharp inhale before responding.

“Well, um, some of my friends told me that you’ll help people with, like– relationship stuff?” She thinks she knows what the kid is referring to, but needs her to explain it herself.

“Relationship stuff?” Ellie nods.

“Yeah, like– one of my friends– he said his mom came to you for help with his dad, her husband, I guess. He said you made him love her again.” She crosses her arms over her chest, sighing deeply at Ellie’s words.

“I didn’t make anyone do anything, kid. I provide– nudges. What people make of those is up to them, though.” 

“Ok! So, could you help me with a– a nudge, then?” Ellie’s eyes are wide, rimmed with hope as she worries her bottom lip between her teeth.

“How old are you, kid?” Ellie squares up her shoulders at that.

“Eighteen.” She quirks her brow, and Ellie sighs.

“Fine, I’m seventeen.” Still not buying it, she tilts her chin at the girl, whose shoulders finally slump.

“I’m fifteen, alright? But I really, really like this girl– and all I’m asking for is some help getting her to notice me, that’s all!” She sighs.

“Kid–”

“Please– I’ll do just about anything for your help– I-I can trade you for it! I could, like, help out around the shop for you, run errands for you. Just– please, will you help me?” She can already feel herself caving in to the girl’s pleas. When Stevie jumps up onto the butcher’s block and starts nuzzling at Ellie’s arm, her resolve disappears completely. 

“Alright, alright, I’ll help you–” Ellie’s face splits out into a grin, clearly getting ready to let out an exclamation, but she isn’t done talking.

“But, this isn’t gonna be the strong stuff, ok? You’re way too young to be messing with that. And I’m gonna take you up on that offer– you can come and work for me after your classes in trade for it. That sound like a deal?” Ellie laughs, nodding.

“Yep, yeah, yes ma’am. You have a deal.”

…

“Wait, that’s it?” Ellie holds up the small jar, watching the honey drip slowly from one side to the other. Stevie lets out a little mrrp from where she’s sitting in Ellie’s lap, yellow eyes looking up at her.

“Not quite, here–” She gets up from her seat at the butcher’s block, quickly grabbing a scrap of paper and pencil before setting them down in front of Ellie.

“I want you to write down what– or who– it is you want to attract on that piece of paper. Keep it in your mind as you fold it up and tuck it into the jar, ok?” Ellie nods, quickly scribbling out what she thinks is a name, though she tries to keep herself from peering over the girl’s quickly moving hands. Honey jar spells remind her of her mother. One of the first times she got to see her working was on such a spell, and it had been a real lesson in the work they do.

“People believe what they want to believe, my dear. We just help them guide that belief into reality. That’s what this power really is, an ability to see what others can’t. Our eyes are just a bit more open than everyone else’s. It’s not the spells that matter, it’s the minds that believe they matter that make all the difference.”

Ellie scrunches her eyes shut as she folds up the paper, and she can’t help but smile at the girl as she tucks the scrap into the jar. Her eyes blink open, shoulders slumping a bit.

“Is that it?” She snorts at the girl’s clearly unimpressed expression.

“Well, what did you expect? That she’d be knocking down the door right away?” Ellie shrugs, huffing a little as she scratches under Stevie’s chin.

“No– I mean, maybe?”

“Kid, I told you. I deal in nudges. Not full-throttle shoves.” She screws the lid onto the jar, tilting it side to side before handing it to Ellie.

“Put that somewhere that you can look at it every day. On a nightstand works best– and when you find a moment, like when you’re going to sleep, just think on it again with that same intention in mind, alright? We have a way of attracting what we focus on, if we actually focus.” Ellie nods, tilting the jar this way and that, the honey glinting in the dim light of the shop

“Alright– thank you. Um, when do you want me to start working?” Stevie leaps out of Ellie’s lap and onto the table, sniffing at the jar in the girl’s hand.

“Why don’t you come around tomorrow after school? I’ll show you how to take care of the plants– could use an extra set of hands for that chore.”

…

Ellie’s been coming in most afternoons for a little over a week now, and she has to admit, the girl’s help has been more than welcomed. She’s good with the plants, eagerly learning about what needs watered when, and what needs moved into and out of the afternoon sun streaming in through the shop windows. And Stevie certainly likes her too. She knows that Ellie is about to come into the shop when the cat jumps down from wherever she’s been perched for most of the day and pads out to the front of the shop before the door even opens. 

But one thing that she has been wondering about is what Joel thinks about this set-up. Clearly, he wants nothing to do with her, not anymore. So she reckons he must not be too happy with his kid spending every afternoon in her shop. 

“Hey, Ellie?” The girl turns from where she had been trimming away dead leaves from a potted mint plant, tilting her head in response.

“Does your dad mind that you’re working here?” Ellie seems taken aback by the question, eventually letting out a snort of laughter.

“Who, Joel? He’s not my dad. He’s my– well, he’s my– Joel. But, he doesn’t tell me what to do, y’know? I’m my own person and shit.” She nods with a smile, trying not to laugh at Ellie’s crass explanation while also fitting another puzzle piece together in her mind. It makes sense now, why she had picked up on Sarah’s name and not Ellie’s. But it’s also clear to her that whatever they are to each other, they’re close.

She turns to get back to work propagating some verbena, but stops when Ellie clears her throat.

“Um, I feel like maybe I should apologize for him. I don’t know what happened between you guys, but he likes you, I swear. He’s just– he can be a little–”

“All or nothing?” Ellie sighs.

“I was gonna say asshole-y– but yeah, that too. He tends to shut down when he’s figuring something out. But he does like you! He’d probably kill me for telling you this– but he always asks about you when I get home.” That surprises her, brows raising at Ellie’s admission. 

“Now who’s nudging who, huh?” That gets a light laugh out of Ellie, shaking her head as they both settle back into quietly working across the shop from one another. Her mind, however, is anything but silent, rolling over the fact that Joel has been asking about her like a sour candy that burns extra sweet.

…

With the town’s summer dance happening that night, she sends Ellie home early, guessing that the girl will be eager to see her crush at the festivities. Normally she wouldn’t go to something like this, not wanting all the eyes and whispers on her. But she’s just a little too curious to see who has won over Ellie’s affections, and begrudgingly decides to head down to see what all the fuss is about.

It seems like just about everyone in town has converged on what’s normally the mess hall, tables and chairs pushed out of the way to form a makeshift dance floor. There’s even live music, someone at an old piano and a few men with guitars making due with what they have. Even though she slips to the back of the room, leaning up against the wall, trying to blend in to the background, her ears still prick to the whispers starting to pass around the room about her. But she doesn’t care about that, not when she sees Ellie, dancing and laughing with another girl whom she’s pretty sure is named Dina. Her heart flips at the sight, and she can’t help but smile watching the pair transition into a very awkward slow dance. She doesn’t have much time to enjoy the scene, however, when a rough hand comes to her shoulder.

“Well, look who decided to grace us with her presence.”

…

Under any other circumstances, Joel wouldn’t be caught dead at something like this dance. But, with only a little grumbling, he decided to go along with Ellie after she mentioned that she had a date for it. There won’t be any funny business going on, not on his watch, though he has to admit that it’s nice to see her having a good time with Dina, the girl that has been making much more frequent appearances at their house lately. 

Leaning back against one of the walls of the mess hall, his eyes wander around the crowd, stuttering stopped when he sees her across the room. There’s no two ways about it, he’s been avoiding her, trying to get his mind right before he jumped any further into something he couldn’t see the bottom of.

 It felt like something clicked when Mason talked to him that night at the bar. About her meddling. Suddenly, he had to ask himself why he had fallen so quickly for her when he hadn’t been able to feel anything like that in decades. It was too good to be true. As if by– well, as if by magic. So, he’s been keeping his distance, though it’s not like that’s actually helped him resolve his feelings for her, and now, he can’t help but stare at her like a total fool, frowning when he notices the scrunch of discomfort clear on her face. That’s when he notices the man leaning next to her, his face turned down to speak directly into her ear, a hand gripping her shoulder to keep her where she is. 

Joel is moving through the crowd toward them before his brain can even catch up.

…

“Can I help you, Mason?” She keeps her eyes trained forward, only catching the sneer of his smile from the corner of her vision as he crowds up next to her. 

“Down, girl. Can’t a guy be nice? Just wanted to come by and say hello.” She huffs, crossing her arms over her chest and jerking her chin toward him just slightly. 

“Well, you’ve said hello. Now why don’t you go find some other lucky lady to bother?” He barks out a laugh, letting it fizzle into a sigh. She can’t quite twist her face away quick enough as he brings his hand - the one that isn’t gripping her shoulder - up to graze his fingers along her cheek. 

“Don’t be like that, miss witch. I’m sorry for giving you and Miller a hard time. Though it seems like he couldn’t handle the heat.” She’s heard enough, shrugging out of his grip and shuffling through the crowd to get out of the mess hall and as far away from him as she can. But Mason is nothing if not persistent.

“Now, now, can’t say I mind a little chase, sweetheart. But let’s cut the bullshit, huh?” She chokes on a gasp when he grabs her from behind, a solid forearm barred across her chest as he pulls her into the shadows behind the mess hall, shoving her hard up against the exterior wall.

“Since Miller got a taste and is still standing, I figure I oughta find out what all the fuss is about myself.” His hands pin her against the wall by her shoulders, one heavy boot pressed over the top of her sneaker to keep her still. She can smell the liquor on his breath his face is so close to hers. It’s a reflex borne out of pure disgust when she rears her head back as best she can and spits in his face. Mason just laughs.

“Oh, little witch, you’re going to regret that.” With that, his grip on her shoulders tightens, slamming her hard against the wall, once, twice, three times, her ears ringing and her skull ricocheting from the impact. Everything goes a bit tilted in the aftermath, her brain fuzzy and spinning as she slumps back against the wall, barely registering Mason getting wrenched away from her. She steadies herself with a hand pressed to her forehead, finally realizing that someone has laid Mason out on the ground before her, fist rearing up again and again to rain down on the man’s face. 

“J-Joel?”

…

He’d like to keep punching until he feels bone shatter beneath his knuckles, his mind alight with a pure, clear rage as he batters Mason’s face. Joel hadn’t been quick enough following them out of the mess hall, and by the time he was rounding the side of the building, he only just caught the way Mason had slammed her against the wall, her head jerking like a rag doll’s. If left to his own devices, Joel reckons that he’d just keep throwing his fist down until the bastard was no longer breathing. But her voice is enough to cut through the haze, stopping him where he’s kneeling over Mason’s limp body as he whips his head around to look at her. 

Her eyes are wide, tears glinting in the fading summer light, her arms outstretched in front of her, palms open as if to reach for him. Joel’s shoulders slacken under her gaze, but before he gets up, he leans back over Mason, dragging his face up by a harsh grip on the collar of his shirt.

“If you so much as look at her again, I will know, and I won’t be feeling so generous the next time. Do you understand?” Mason’s head is crooked back on his neck, eyes drooping closed and mouth agape, blood smeared across his face. But Joel doesn’t give a shit, he just needs to hear him say it.

“Do you understand?” He punctuates his words with a harsh jerk of his hands in the man’s shirt collar, making his head jerk and loll.

“I-I understand! I understand– please– please don’t– I won’t f-f-fucking touch her, I swear!” Mason’s words come out garbled by the thick blood pooling in his mouth, but Joel has heard enough, letting go of the man’s collar and letting him slump back down onto the ground. Joel’s mind is still swimming in a hot tide of anger when he stands up, the only feeling he can really register is the smarting sting of his split knuckles. And then, a firm palm on his shoulder finally gets him to turn away from Mason’s curled-up figure. 

“We should go. I can take care of that hand for you.”

…

“A lot of plants in here.”

“Mmhmm.” She absentmindedly responds to Joel’s mumbled observation, jerkily moving around her kitchen to gather what she needs to fix up his knuckles. She doesn’t let her mind linger on the fact that he’s the first other person who has been inside her house in years, instead focusing her thoughts on the clean, damp rag in her hand as she sits down across from him at her kitchen table. She hesitates to reach for him, but he willingly offers his hand to her, his eyes a weighty heat as she starts to daub away the smeared blood on his knuckles. She works quietly, keeping her head tilted down toward the task, not daring to meet his gaze, though she feels it like a force of nature sweeping over her.

“Are you– are you alright?” Her hands still where she had been working away at his injury, and she has to take a deep breath to smooth the warble in her throat before she answers him.

“I-I’m fine– just a little shaken up– um, literally.” It’s a horrible attempt at a joke to lighten the mood, she knows it the second the words leave her mouth, his hand curling into a fist on the table.

“I am fine, really. Thank you– for stopping him. I wouldn’t have been able– I couldn’t–” He stops her stuttered words, resting his palm over both of her shaking hands on the table. Her eyes finally meet his, and for a moment, there’s just sweetness. But then she remembers the reality that it took her nearly getting assaulted for Joel to stop avoiding her, and she quickly jerks her hands away from his, scrubbing harshly at her eyes with the heels of her palms. 

“Why did you– how– why were you out there?” He sighs, long and low, sitting back in his chair.

“I saw him bothering you in the mess hall. Guess I followed you out.”

“Why?” She can’t look at him, not right now, or she’ll get tangled up all over again. So instead, she keeps her eyes on her hands clasped in front of her on the table, listening to the huff he lets out at her question.

“Just wanted to make sure you were alright.” She can’t help the bitter laugh that spills out at that, looking up at him, his brow furrowed at her reaction.

“I’m sorry, I guess I have a hard time believing that when you haven’t so much as looked at me in nearly a month.” Joel presses his lips in a thin line, his jaw ticking slightly as he looks at her. 

“I’ll admit that I’ve been– keeping my distance–” She scoffs at his choice of words, but he continues speaking.

“But you didn’t tell me the whole truth.” That gives her pause, her fidgeting fingers going still at the stern tinge to his voice. Before she answers, she takes his hand back in hers, getting back to work on wrapping his already swelling knuckles. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Heard a little more about you. How you like getting involved in other people’s business.” “I thought you didn’t care what other people said about me.” He lets out a harsh sigh, pulling his now bandaged hand away and raking his fingers through his hair, tugging lightly in clear frustration.

“It’s a little hard not to when it seems like you’re not being straight with me, darlin.” She tries to tamp it down, but her chest still squeezes at the term of endearment, though she’s quick to clear her throat of the rising feeling.

“Ellie told me about your– nudges? S’what she called them, I think.” Her stomach twists at that. Though it’s not exactly a secret that she has a proclivity for helping folks, mostly women, with their troubled love lives, she had been trying to keep that away from him. She hadn’t even considered that Ellie would tell him about it, a stupid mistake, she realizes. Anyways, it’s become a lot rarer for someone to come to her for that, Ellie the first in many months, though she can admit that she used to be a lot more involved, and a lot less subtle with it.

“I just– I need you to be real honest with me right now. Did you– do something to me?” That makes her laugh, any anxiety quickly getting displaced by anger. Yep, just like the rest of them.

“Is it so hard to believe you liked me that you need to explain it away with fucking magic?” She spits out the word as if it sits sour on her tongue, her eyes narrowing at him. When he doesn’t answer, lips parted and wide eyes just staring at her, she lets out another laugh.

“Believe this, Joel. I didn’t do anything to you. I don’t do things to people, that’s not how I work, no matter what anyone tells you.” Finished talking, she slumps back in her chair, pinching the bridge of her nose as a throbbing headache settles in. 

“You said liked?” She cracks one eye open, seeing him now leaning forward, his hands clasped on the table as he looks at her.

“What– what’re you talking about?”

“You said I liked you– like I don’t anymore.” 

“Don’t you?” He shakes his head, eyes shimmering in the dim light of her kitchen. 

“No– I mean, I never stopped– liking you, that is. Fuck– I feel so lost, darlin. You gotta understand that I haven’t felt like this in a long time. Didn’t think I ever would again. And then– then you show up and I-I feel like I’m back in highschool or some shit. You’ve got me smitten like a fucking fool and I barely know you– and it feels impossible.” She’s a bit shocked by his words, musing to herself that this might be the most she’s heard Joel say at once. And apparently he isn’t done either.

“I want this, want you, probably more than I should. But Christ, I don’t think I can do this unless you tell me the whole story, your whole story.” She sees her path forked so clearly in that moment. She could shut down and throw him out, tell Ellie that she won’t be needing her help anymore, sever these threads just as she’s gotten so good at doing. But the truth is, she feels much the way Joel does. This is uncharted territory for her, these threads that she doesn’t want to cut, but instead tug closer and closer. And so, she makes the choice to walk a path that she hasn’t ever before. 

When she finally speaks, she starts at the beginning. 

I can reblog my stuff as much as I want try to stop me

SO ANOYONE WANNA TELL ME WHY THERE IS BARELY ANY HANAHAKI FICS FOR THE DCA BOYS?????

Like listen- I'm not the biggest fan of angst. It's not really my cuppa tea, y'know? But I LOVE the hanahaki disease trope in fanfiction. It's the one piece of angst I will always be willing to cry for! But I just realized that there is so little of it for the DCA boys in x reader fics, and I'm just over here like: D:> !?

Like- IT'S SUCH A GOOD TROPE AND HARDLY ANYONE IS TAKING THE OPPERTUNITY TO USE IT IN THE DCA FANDOM!!! All my writing buddies out there- PLEASE write Hanahaki disease fics for DCA x Reader, I don't do fanfiction and I can barely write as is. I will literally kiss you if I find you wrote some.

Sincerely

Your gay little mouse

Band name idea band name idea band name idea

GOD COMPLEX and the Narcissists

Dammmnnnn I don't even watch The Mandalorian and I'm hooked! God it's gonna be so good you know how to write tension so incredibly well

EROS: Chapter 1

pairing: Din Djarin x bounty hunter!f!reader

summary: Din requests a high profile bounty, and to his shock, he finds someone from his past is interested in it, too.

word count: 3.6k

series warnings: former lovers to enemies to again lovers, Din is early thirties here, weapons, injuries & violence, crisis of faith.

series masterlist | AO3

Din Djarin didn’t always know what his life would look like.

As a young boy, he’s always dreamed of traveling, seeing the galaxy and getting lost in the cultures of other planets. When the Mandalorians took him in, he felt like he belonged to something bigger than himself, something grand and important. The covert had become his new family, his new life.

Being a Mandalorian was far more than speaking a Creed and being loyal and brave. It meant knowing how to navigate your way through the galaxy, reading maps and always finding a way to survive.

Thus his dream of travel had been achieved. But then another question plagued Din: is that all? Is that all there is?

That’s when bounty hunting came in.

He flattered himself to think that he was a very good hunter: skilled, efficient and fast. He didn’t waste any time, always delivering the bounties on time. Greef Karga, his employer within the Nevarro Guild of Bounty Hunters, had always praised him and claimed he was one of the best in the whole parsec. Din merely did his job, but he was glad to have been critically acclaimed and recognized as good.

Of course, the reason for what could only be described as coldness while he was hunting was no existential question.

It was someone.

A woman.

He’d met her eight years ago in the local Nevarrian cantina. She worked there as a bartender, always with a bright smile on her face, always polite even to the rudest of customers. Her gentleness was what initially drew a shy, yet awfully curious young Din Djarin in.

She had been simply intoxicating; sweet and tender, yet so passionate it made his head spin. She’d been his first everything: his first time being intimate with someone, his first kiss, his first “I love you”. There’d been no more confessions of the sort after her. None of the women he’d been with after—albeit the almost insignificant number—could even compare to what he shared with his first.

He told her his name, he showed her his face, and she kept his secrets. She had immense respect for his Creed and for that, Din began to think about a union. Marriage. He only wanted her, and choosing her as partner meant she could see his face all the time, unrestricted by any laws.

He wanted to give her everything.

But one morning when he woke up, she was gone. She disappeared without a trace, and Din was all alone again.

He’d never known pain greater than that one.

All she left behind was a hologram, but it was far too short to offer an explanation. Perhaps a faulty wire damaged it. So Din didn’t care anymore. Clearly she didn’t, since she could not spare one moment of waking up and explaining it to him personally, so why should he?

Now, eight years later, Din only cared about hunting. It was his job, his sole mission and purpose in this world, and he allowed no one to interfere with that. It was true that over the near-decade he’d turned quite merciless. No job was too big—or even too small. He took hunting to a whole other level, ensuring no scum was left unpunished, be it pocket pickers or high profile killers. The world was nothing but a fade, black and white hell to him, nothing of morally ambiguous nature. He took everything as it was and never questioned anything. The only reason why he kept going was hunting. It’s all he knew now.

Even Greef Karga was staggered. Quite shocked, really. In all of his years of commanding the Guild, he’s never seen a warrior more swift and capable than Din. The beskar-covered hunter worked day and night, barely resting if at all, requesting work non-stop. It is true that the parsec has never been better off, even in the circumstances of a siege and with the shortage of everything, but Karga soon began to fear that Din might just die of exhaustion and join the other co-workers collapsed in the line of work.

“Why don’t you take a few days off, huh?” he had suggested to the bounty hunter after he returned from a particularly nasty mission.

Question to which Din chuckled mockingly, just like he did to all such suggestions. A throated sound, hollow in a sense. It sent tremors down Karga’s spine to see the remnants of a good associate.

“I want my next bounty,” was always Din’s response.

It was no question left in Karga’s mind after that interaction when he had no choice but to give Din what he wanted. There was something dark lingering inside that man, something that had caused him to shut himself out from the world in the harshest way possible without any excuse. He doesn’t know why the Mandalorian is being exceedingly detached to everything human—and he doesn’t ask. He wouldn’t want to risk getting on the list of quarries.

Din doesn’t spend precious time dissecting his own behavior like others might. He prefers to do the hard work, occupy his hands and mind alike with the rough practices of his profession. When he’s not out there, shooting and capturing quarries, killing… there are far too many past grievances he blatantly refuses to remember, let alone acknowledge.

It’s all in the past. It doesn’t matter anymore. What matters is now, palpable things that can actually be done.

He can’t explain it. He doesn’t allow himself a moment’s rest or weakness to feel what he knows is residual inside his blackened heart. He knows it’s still there, he can feel it cruising hot through his bloodstream, but it’s been so long since he’s even thought of it, he just prefers to keep it locked away and forget about its existence. What’s the use of living with emotions anyway?

He doesn’t want or need any of that.

He’s a bounty hunter. A lone wolf. Always has been, always will be. A wolf who felt a crushing amount of rage within, an irrational hunger for adrenaline and an insatiable desire to dominate. Red is all that he sees before him, the color of the blood he’d spilled. He needs the thrill of the hunt, he needs to feel the blood pumping through his veins as he pushes a quarry into the ground with his foot, dominating them, the muffled sounds they make as empty promises leave their lips. He desperately needs that rush, every single day.

Regular pucks of regular bounties no longer serve him purpose. He needed something better. Something more.

When he requested to meet Karga, his employer was surprised. Din caught quarries faster than any other hunter he’s ever encountered, and Karga had the feeling he did not want to know the means through which Din did his work. Albeit the fact that he blows through pucks like they’re no big deal, even Karga had become slightly afraid of Din and his temper. But since he’s on the hunter’s side, he can only hope he’s safe from any unwanted wrath.

The meeting point is, as usual, Nevarro’s cantina. Din is already there by the time Karga practically rushes to get to the table.

“Mando! You’re right on time, I see,” he smiles.

“And you’re not.”

“My apologies, old friend.”

Din nods once, thus forgiving him. He realizes that Karga is always tiptoeing around him but he refuses to change his entire life and personality for the sake of one person. Karga helps him out with his dark needs, and he helps the parsec. The business transaction has a smooth flow to it and it’s best to keep things that way. Nothing too personal, nothing up close.

“Let me guess,” Karga says. “You’re looking for another bounty.”

“Only reason why I’m here.”

“Right. Well, you’ve been doing such a fantastic job that we’re running low on bounties. There is not much I can give you.”

“You’re telling me you don’t have any criminals on the loose? None?”

Karga takes a few pucks out of a satchel and presents them to Din one by one.

“I got a thief who steals spotchka, a guy who got into a bar fight, a guy who organizes illegal fights between creatures… and a woman who pickpockets. I wouldn’t exactly call those criminals.”

Din sighs, slowly, and examines his options closely. He tends to go for higher profile outlaws and none of those are fitting to that category. He then notices a fifth puck, right next to Karga’s hand.

“What about that one?” Din asks.

Karga knows exactly the one Din is referencing, but he falters. He cannot bring himself to be utterly honest with him. “It’s not quite—what you’d want.”

“I want that one.”

His tone leaves no room for discussion and Karga fumbles with the puck, realizing he has no other choice. He picks it up in his own gloved hand, concealing it from Din’s predatory eyes under the visor. The gesture alone is peaking the latter’s curiosity.

“Hand it over.”

“Mando… I’m just trying to look after you. If I show you this puck, I know you’ll want to hunt down this bounty. Everyone did at some point in time. It’s had a massive reward on its head for years but none of the hunters of the Guild would go near it, not anymore. Not even others could. It’s far too dangerous and many died trying to get their hands on this bounty.”

Din cocks his head to the left, reaching for the puck that Karga inevitably hands to him despite all of his other mental protests.

“What’s the story here?”

“Mando—“

“Tell me.”

Karga sighs, visibly concerned. “This guy’s a prolific killer. Highly unstable and impossible to track down. There are few records of him, but nothing consistent. Name’s Jaeterr Darrode.”

Darrode. Din heard the name before.

A prolific killer indeed. In his travels, Mando had encountered bloody corpses that went with tales of deception and lies. They popped up more and more over different planets and he did start to notice the pattern, but he didn’t think much of it. Not at the time, at least. Now, however, it’s different. He is more than captivated and he already feels the adrenaline rush through him, making his body hot and tingly with the possibility of a real challenge.

“I heard of him,” he says, voice thick with a mysterious desire. “Never stays in one place, kills messily after using people and stealing personals… I like a good game of hide and seek.”

“Mando, this isn’t child’s play. I told you, experienced hunters, even less so than yourself, died on their quest to get their hands on Jaeterr Darrode. Died by his hands, on their way there… it’s far too dangerous.”

Din takes the puck and rolls it in his fist, staring at Karga on the way out. “I know what I’m doing.”

“I know you are. Which is what makes you an ideal target for this creature. Sit this one out, would you?”

Din inches closer to him, steps slow and meant to intimidate, though there is no need; he always intimidates anyone with his mere presence.

“I said, I know what I’m doing. I’m the best you got.”

“I know.”

Din’s voice is throated and coarse still, thick with an ardent desire to prove himself, despite knowing that he has nothing to prove to no one, not even to himself. But he wants to perform exceptional nonetheless. And he wants everyone else to know, too. He needs this. All of his quarries have been boring and predictable lately. He misses the excitement of a new chase, a real challenge and the chilling thrill of it.

And by the looks of it, this is the challenge of a lifetime.

“But since you are so determined to do this…” Karga adds, “…there is something else you should know.”

“What?”

Karga sighs, a clear sign of discomfort.

“Someone else has expressed interest in the same puck.”

“I thought you said no one else would go near it.”

“Yes, indeed. Seems there is someone else in the Guild as daring as you are.”

After less than a moment’s worth of contemplation, Din stands up from the booth, his figure tall and imposing over Karga.

“I’m not sharing,” he says.

“This could be good for you, Mando.”

“Doubt it.”

Karga sighs, visibly trying to persuade his employee to accept the offer.

“Who’s the other hunter?” Din asks nonetheless.

“A woman. Very efficient as well. If you’d meet with her—matter of fact, here she is now.”

Karga stands up, gesturing with his hand to someone behind Din. With a disapproving sigh, Din turns around as well, only for his heart to stop beating in his chest.

No.

It can’t be.

“Mando, I’d like for you to meet—“

“You.”

He inches closer, his steps small and secure though his heart is trembling inside his chest, beating so fast that it hurts the ribcage.

“Din?” the feminine voice asks, blinking several times.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m a bounty hunter now. What are you—“

“I’ve always been a hunter.”

“I know that. I just meant—“

“You two know each other?” Karga asks, flabbergasted.

Din falters, sucking in a harsh and deep breath. He grinds his teeth, clenching them so hard he can feel them smashing beneath the pressure. His chest tightens, his breaths ragged and his limbs feel so heavy he can barely move.

“We have a history,” you admit, in shock yourself.

“Great! Then you should have no problem sharing credit for this bounty.”

“I’m not sharing,” Din repeats, turning his back to you.

Scoffing, you follow him around the cantina. You’re not surprised by his hesitance to approach you, nor by his coldness, but that does not mean it doesn’t hurt.

You’ve spent the better part of the last eight years trying to move on and forget. Things got rough on Nevarro, so what you made at the cantina was no longer sufficient to provide for yourself and your mother, who lived in the outskirts. While bounty hunting wouldn’t have been your first choice for a career change, you had to do something more valuable in order to help your mother, and to live comfortably.

And it was the last connection you had to him.

Din Djarin. The only man you’ve ever loved.

You would’ve given everything for him and to him. You felt in your heart that this was the man you were meant to be with. You’ve spent months in each other’s company, with you teaching him the ways of intimacy, and him teaching you how to handle certain guns and how to defend yourself. Months of your lives, feelings and words exchanged, all to be abruptly sucked down the drain.

You had to leave. You didn’t really have a choice. However, you did leave a message behind, explaining the circumstances and why you had to walk out in the middle of the night with hot tears staining your cheeks and fear nestling inside your heart.

But based on Din’s reaction in the present, he either saw it and grew bitter over you, or never watched it in the first place.

“You like sharing, from what I remember,” you say louder.

“Not bounties.”

“If this is going to be a problem—“Karga intervenes.

“It won’t.”

“It is.”

You and Din exchange a rather venomous glare after replying simultaneously, and in that moment, you decide that if he wants to be bitter and angry, so can you.

“I work alone,” Din clarifies gruffly. “I don’t need anyone, much less a traitor, following me around and interrupting my mission.”

“A traitor?”

You do not hesitate in walking up towards him, anger perfectly legible on your face. You search the helmet for the eyes of the man you once knew and loved, pushing into his chest plate with a finger.

“You don’t get to call me fucking names, is that clear? And definitely not a traitor. Because if you do that again… remember, I know where all your weak spots are. I know where to touch you to make you moan, and I know where to touch you to hurt you. I don’t think you wish for the latter.”

Your statement sends a shiver up Din’s spine. Whether out of delight or utter fear, he doesn’t know. He’s still recovering from the fact that you are actually standing before him, in the flesh, after what feels like an eternity.

He’s not the only one who’s changed, it seems. You’re feisty, angry and certainly brazen enough to spew threats that aren’t shallow. Your mouth, once sweet and addictive, is now sharp like a blade, and Din fleetingly wonders what you have been subjected to over the years that turned you so vindictive.

Or it could very well just be his aversion to the situation and, subsequently, to seeing him again.

“You’re the only two hunters in the Guild crazy enough to embark on this mission,” Karga says in an attempt to break the tension. “You can split the reward. It’ll be more than enough for you both. Why don’t you work together, hm?”

Din eyes you up and down, the puck still tucked away in his glove.

“I work alone,” is all he says before he leaves the cantina.

Sweat drips down his temples, neck and chest when he wakes up. He’s still in the pilot’s seat, probably dozed off on account of sleep deprivation. It’s nothing new. It’s the same phantom sensation that haunts him relentlessly, awakening the same pain inside his body. Crumbling, dark, eating him from inside out till he’s nothing but an empty shell of a man.

It’s all Din has been reduced to. An empty shell carrying nothing but forgotten times and pain he long struggled to shove down and forget.

Pain he now had to face again because of you.

A million questions plagued his twisted mind; when did you turn into a bounty hunter? How come you turned a hunter? Were you as hurt as him and hunting scum throughout the galaxy was your only source of escapism?

The more he allowed his mind to go on, the more he entered a vicious territory where he longed to know if you’ve ever loved him at all, if all you ever did was use his body for your own pleasure, then disappear with all the knowledge he’d shared, as well as his name, face and feelings.

So he chooses to shove it all down. There is no point in dwelling in the past. It is passed. No time like the present, he reminds himself.

He looks around the ship, searching for nothing in particular. There is nothing to be found; nothing aside himself and his trusted weapons. The Mantis, his beloved ship, had always been empty—except for the occasional nightly conquest. Meaningless affairs, something to take the edge off. There weren’t many who shared his improvised bed, but those who did were told clearly that it was nothing personal.

None of his former affairs felt right. Sure, they were all pretty and excited, some loud and some more quiet, their flesh taut with arousal and their heat tight and wet for him, but they all reminded him of you. They all reminded him of everything you’ve taught him about the sins of the flesh, how fascinated he was whenever he thrust inside you, how warm and soft you were between your legs and everywhere else. So before he decided to bring someone aboard, he made sure to have some spotchka first. It cut some of the tension from the edges and put an end to his spinning mind. A few sips to loosen him up, allow him to get lost in someone else, and then return to his missions.

No one stayed more than they had to. So Din took comfort in the solitude.

But your return does not mean anything. He’s got you beat to the quarry, and if he keeps being one step ahead of you, he won’t have to see your face again.

The nightmares that haunt him no longer phase him. They’ve become his second nature albeit their terrifying shivers sent down Din’s spine. Even as he gets out of the cot and steps into the fresher, his whole body feels heavier than what he can carry; it aches all over, but he’s used to it. The accidental glare of himself in the tiny mirror fills him with hatred. It feels grim to tell whether that hatred is designed for himself or for the things that he continuously does, but nonetheless, it is just as hefty as the entirety of his body.

Hot water runs over his scarred, naked flesh, and Din diligently cleans himself in the shower. He carefully avoids his nether region. Normally, he would’ve squeezed in a moment to himself, to let all of that energy and tension built inside of him explode, but today he doesn’t feel like it. On the contrary, it feels like today everything is too important for him to distract himself—with himself. His own hand won’t be his relief nor his distraction, not today, not with this mission.

Din gets dressed and armored up just as diligently. When he’s in full Mandalorian attire, he finally feels like himself again.

If this self is some fucked up, monstrous naïveté of former regular man, Din Djarin.

He checks the puck again, eyes behind the visor as agile as usual when they shift onto the control board. The Mantis hums to life as he sets the course to Lothal.

He has a good feeling about this bounty.

next

Bet

Luigi and Mario get split up and stay split up for a long time. Mario still finding sanctuary with Peach but as a secret. Luigi setting up shop in an abandoned mansion not yet inhabited by King Boo yet, could also work in place of Bowser.

Luigi gets used to his place of solitude making a garden and becoming friends with the ghosts inhabitants, they're all human too or humanish in the og weegis mansion, so they become a found family of sorts

Word gets around that in the Dark Forest a beast lives probably guarding a legendary treasure

The Koopas just so happen to be passing by when they hear a terrifying screech and they quickly run away. A spider jumped on Luigi. This brings word to the Koopa King!

Once he hears about the treasure he immediately thinks it's a super star ⭐ so he makes his way over there alone because no one else wants to go with him and Kamek is on vacation

Bowser gets a little nervous on seeing the creepy exterior but scoffs it off and pounds at the door Luigi is elsewhere and the ghosts are preoccupied in their rooms. He makes his way in the lights are off but the place looks clean

Then in the garden he sees Luigi quietly crying from missing his brother and Bowsers heart is a lil softened before snapping out of it and laughing at the pathetic display

*this is what people were scared of?*

Luigi screams and backs off. They just stare at each other as Bowser realizes...oh no... HES HOTTTTTT

Bowser introduces himself like a headass and Weegi tries to channel Marios energy but fails miserably. Bowser tries to go for a sneaky approach for this star since force didn't work last time. He stays for dinner and meets the rest of the ghosts finding out they've been the ones scaring off anyone who comes near, sort of using Luigi as the face of it.

Bowser tells about his land, not that he's royalty, and about his children when he and Weeg are alone again. Luigi tells him about where he's from and how he got here, he excludes his brother just in case. Bowser starts visiting often and their love begins to bloom.

His kids start to get suspicious and Jr decides to tail him before his siblings do and he thinks Luigi is hurting him! Because he gave him a peck on the cheek and Bowser went red. He bursts in on his Jr clown car and tries to attack Luigi and then they explain everything and say he can't tell the others.

He fails almost immediately, but he tried his best! They're all mad their dad hasn't introduced him yet and even more that the royal Archives don't have anything on humans.

By now Bowser has completely forgotten ab the star and introduces his family. They let it slip he's the Koopa King! Luigi's found family is pissed they keep it together, as rich families do and tell Bowser to leave and not come back for a reason I haven't thought of while Luigi plays with the kids.

Bowser invites Luigi back to his place and there he will stay until he realizes he's been there for a hot minute and tries to leave. He does to bowsers dismay thinking his family is gonna take him away from the Koopa

He goes to rescue Luigi from himself, Bowsers overthinking. Bowser tells his family hes not going anywhere and he love Luigi and is gonna marry him they accept this

Happily ever after

No Mario lore because THIS ISNT ABOUT HIM yet

any beauty and the beast au/parallel with bowser and luigi i just want to remind everyone that Luigi is not from that world so he'd actually be the beast in that context. hes bipedal monster with no shell, able to wriggle in to any place with large whiskers and a nose to sniff out his prey and he speaks in mysterious language (italian) and an ear splitting wail. very scary. legend says theres two of them