#this was more ominous than i wanted it to be | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

emperordinozenmon · 1 day ago

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Apex of Ferocity

Y'all lucked out Dinozen was gonna scrap this idea but its soo good. you can thank @leafostuff for helping Dinozen solidify the idea and concepts, and thank you to @faebled-stories for Tsuki fic sparking the idea. expect a smutty sequel from me later.

I walked into the IBPA (Investigative Bureau of Paranormal Activity) to a surprisingly calm and relaxed morning. Usually, the IBPA office was a hive of chaos—agents scrambling to respond to a new supernatural threat, researchers shouting over each other in the labs, or some unfortunate soul rushing a monster to containment. For the office to be this quiet was a rare and almost unsettling occurrence.

I headed straight to dispatch and saw my good friend Douglas working behind the counter. His usual bored expression shifted into a grin the moment he spotted me.

“Well, Agent Dino, it’s good to see you,” he said, far too pleasantly for my liking.

My eyes narrowed. Douglas was never this kind unless he wanted something. “Nope. Not happening,” I said preemptively, shaking my head. “I’m not taking on another case. I’m cashing in my vacation time before I lose it.”

Douglas sighed dramatically and leaned on the counter. “But you’re already heading in the direction, and it would be easy for you to hunt—”

I raised a hand to cut him off. “Not listening.”

He chuckled and changed tactics. “Okay, fine. Why are you here then?”

“Meeting with Retsu. She’s prepping me for the final Witch Hunter trial,” I explained.

His eyes lit up with amusement. “Oh, that’s today? Don’t you have to beat her in combat to pass?”

“Unfortunately,” I muttered, and his laughter burst out immediately.

“Dude, she’s what, 9 feet tall? She’s beaten you how many times again?”

“776,” I replied flatly.

Douglas wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

With a thumbs-up, I walked off to the section of the building reserved for Witch Hunters. It was tucked away in a quiet wing, separate from the bustling main office. The long walk left me feeling slightly winded, but I eventually reached the familiar doors.

Retsu greeted me with a warm smile, towering over me as usual. She placed a massive hand on my head, giving it a gentle pat, which made me feel about five years old.

“Dinovaldo,” she said warmly. “On time for once.”

“Gotta keep you guessing,” I replied with a faint grin.

She chuckled, leading me into the training chamber. Her long black hair was braided neatly down her back, the sharpness of her features softened by her ever-present smile. Retsu had been my mentor since I joined the Witch Hunters, and even though we weren’t related, her presence felt maternal. She was fierce in combat and relentless in training, but she’d always been there for me when I needed guidance—or, more often, a reality check.

“You ready?” she asked, glancing down at me as we entered the arena.

“Not really,” I admitted.

Her laugh was deep and full of affection. “You’ve said that the last 776 times, too. I’m still proud of you, though.”

“Proud of what? Losing?” I asked wryly.

“Of getting back up,” she said simply, her voice gentle. “That’s the part that matters.”

Her words hit me harder than I’d like to admit, but I just nodded, not wanting to dwell on it. As we took our places in the arena, I summoned my weapon, Incursio: Tyrannolegend, its form shifting into a sleek, polished gun.

Retsu unsheathed her own weapon, Muramasa, the blood-red blade glinting ominously in the light. As always, she performed her ritual, slicing her palm along the edge of the sword. I winced as the blood dripped down the blade, activating its ominous aura.

“Are you ready, Dinovaldo?” she asked again, her smile still disarmingly calm.

I nodded and fired off a few shots to test the waters. She dodged with ease, her speed as overwhelming as ever. We fell into a familiar rhythm—me scrambling to keep my distance, her closing the gap faster than I could counter. This time, though, I had a trick up my sleeve.

When her blade came down toward me, I switched Tyrannolegend into its sword form and blocked the attack. Retsu blinked in surprise, the briefest flicker of pride crossing her face.

“Since when could you do that?” she asked.

“Defeat 215,” I replied. “Been saving it.”

“Oh, so you’ve been holding out on me in our sparring sessions?” she teased. “Guess I’ll have to beat the rest of your tricks out of you.”

I switched Tyrannolegend into massive Cestus with T-rex visages and slammed one toward her. She dodged, but the force created enough space for me to reposition.

“You’ve been holding out,” she said with a mock sigh.

“This is an actual test,” I shot back.

Her smile widened. “Fair point. A witch won’t hold back in a real fight. Neither will I.”

I saw her shift into a stance I knew all too well. Before she could execute her move, I transformed Tyrannolegend into a spear and hurled it at her. The weapon lit with energy as it flew, and her eyes widened slightly as it pierced her shoulder, pinning her to the wall.

I approached cautiously, trying not to let my guard down. “Do you yield?” I asked.

She nodded, clapping as I released her. “Well done, Dinovaldo. You’ve earned this.”

The relief hit me all at once, and I gave her a shaky thumbs-up before my legs buckled.

I woke up two hours later in the medbay, bandaged but alive. A note sat beside me in Retsu’s sharp handwriting:

“Have fun on the trip! Also, I finished Tyrannolegend’s Incursio ritual. You are now a Master Witch Hunter.”

The words brought a grin to my face despite the aches in my body. Retsu always had a way of showing she cared, even if she’d never admit it out loud.

The flight to Seoul was exciting but stressful. The home I’d be “renting” for the next three months was a bit out of the way and not in a high English-speaking neighborhood, but I made it despite my worries. Entering the apartment building felt strange. There was a pleasant aura that enveloped the place, something almost like magic but faint, subtle, like a lingering memory. It put me a little on edge, but I told myself to let it go. Not wanting to think about work, I climbed the stairs to the cozy one-bedroom apartment, collapsed onto the bed, and let sleep claim me for several hours.

The next morning—or midday, I guess, since jet lag still had me in a headlock—I ventured out to find food. A nearby café seemed like a good spot, so I made my way there.

Stepping in, I instinctively scanned the room. I didn’t mean to, but old habits die hard. Back home, walking into a place as a “darker-skinned foreigner” usually came with stares, awkward curiosity, or worse. But here, no one batted an eye. It was almost disorienting how normal it felt. My guard loosened, just a little.

That was when I saw her.

By the window, sitting in the corner by herself, was Tsuki—the Tsuki, from Billlie. I nearly froze in place. Out of all the faces in the café, hers seemed to glow like a beacon. Without thinking, I found my feet moving toward her.

“Excuse me,” I said as I reached her table. “Is this seat taken?”

She glanced up, startled, her eyes darting to the other open seats around the café. Her wary gaze lingered on me for a moment, sizing me up. For a brief second, I wondered if I’d made a mistake.

“No,” she said finally, her voice quiet but steady.

Taking her answer as permission, I ordered a breakfast platter and settled into the chair across from her. She was surprisingly quiet, her focus shifting back to the notebook in front of her. The silence between us felt thick, almost charged. I could tell she was aware of me, but she seemed content to let it sit there, unbroken.

Clearing my throat, I decided to take a chance. “Sorry about the abrupt circumstances,” I began. “My name’s Dinovaldo. Most people just call me Dino.”

She looked up from her notebook, her expression guarded but curious. “Are you American?” she asked.

I nodded, and she smiled faintly before laughing—a soft, musical sound that eased some of the tension between us.

“I can tell,” she said, teasingly. “You have the accent.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really? And what does an ‘American accent’ sound like to you?” I challenged, my tone light but playfully defensive.

She grinned, leaning forward slightly. In charmingly accented English, she said, “Don’t worry. I like it, though.”

The unexpected compliment caught me off guard. For a moment, I hesitated, unsure of how to respond. It wasn’t often that someone disarmed me like that, but she had.

Her gaze shifted to my shirt, and her eyebrows raised in recognition. “Oh, you like Love Before World Domination?” she asked, closing her notebook.

I glanced down, realizing the logo on my shirt was a dead giveaway. “Yeah,” I said with a small laugh. “Hopeless toku fan right here.”

She tilted her head, her smile turning sly. “Oh, so the big scary man likes henshin heroes? Cute.”

Her teasing tone had a sharpness to it, but the glimmer in her eyes softened the words. I chuckled, scratching the back of my neck. “What can I say? They’re timeless.”

She studied me for a moment, her smile lingering. There was something feline about the way she carried herself—subtle, graceful, with an air of mischief. It wasn’t the bubbly energy she projected on stage. No, this was different. Her gaze was keen, appraising, like she was trying to figure out what made me tick.

At first, I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing.

“You’re not like I expected,” she said suddenly, breaking the silence. Her voice had a slight edge to it, almost like she was testing the waters. “Most people who come up to me either want something or act like they’re trying to win a prize.”

I blinked at her, caught off guard by her bluntness. “And what do you think I want?” I asked, keeping my tone even.

Her eyes narrowed slightly, and I felt the weight of her scrutiny again. But before I could overthink it, her expression softened. “I’m still figuring that out,” she admitted with a small shrug.

“Well,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “for what it’s worth, I’m just here for breakfast. Everything else is a bonus.”

That earned me a surprised laugh. It wasn’t the kind of polished, public laugh you’d expect from an idol—it was real, unfiltered. “You’re a weird one,” she said, shaking her head. “But… I guess that’s not a bad thing.”

I smiled, my guard dropping a little more. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Her shoulders relaxed as she sat back, her wariness fading. I could see the shift in her now—the cautious cheetah turning into something more playful, almost trusting.

Here’s an expanded version of the scene, adding more lighthearted banter, subtle flirting, and cute dynamics between Dino and Tsuki:

“Alright, Dino,” she said, her tone lighter now, her smile growing playful. “Tell me—what’s your favorite henshin hero?”

Without hesitation, I replied, “Kamen Rider Fourze.”

Tsuki’s lips curled into a sly, almost mischievous smile. She laughed, the sound warm but carrying a teasing edge. “Oh, that explains the friendliness,” she said, leaning forward slightly, her body language shifting. It wasn’t a retreat, though—it was more like she’d decided to test the waters, and suddenly I felt like the one being assessed.

Her gaze sharpened, turning predatory in the most disarming way possible. It wasn’t threatening; it was more like I’d unknowingly stepped into her game, and now she was setting the rules. For the first time in a while, I felt something strange welling up in my chest—a mixture of excitement and unease, like I was bracing for something I wasn’t sure I wanted to dodge. It was fleeting but enough to throw me off balance for just a moment.

“By the way, I’m Tsuki,” she said, as if her identity needed any introduction.

“I kind of knew that,” I replied with a small grin, trying to sound casual.

Her eyes narrowed as her smile turned sharper. “Oh, a bit of a fanboy, huh?” she teased, tilting her head.

I hesitated, unsure if denying it would make me seem disingenuous. Before I could respond, she reached over without warning and plucked a bite from my plate, popping it into her mouth with an air of triumph. “Thanks,” she said smugly, her gaze daring me to object.

“Hey!” I protested, laughing despite myself.

“What?” she asked innocently, her expression anything but. She chewed slowly, savoring the food like it tasted better just because it was mine. Then, with a glimmer in her eye, she asked, “So, who’s your bias?”

Her question caught me off guard, but I saw the trap for what it was. She expected me to name someone, probably her, and then she’d have the upper hand. I decided to flip the script.

Raising my hands in mock surrender, I shrugged dramatically. “Honestly? I don’t have one.”

Her eyes widened in surprise, the confident mask slipping for just a second. “Oh,” she said, blinking. “Well… fair, I guess.” She quickly recovered, whipping her hair back as if to reclaim the upper hand. ��Still, not even a favorite member?”

“Nope,” I said, leaning back in my chair, trying not to smirk. “I think the whole group is great.”

Her smile twitched, a mix of amusement and challenge lighting up her expression. “Huh. Nice save,” she said, arching an eyebrow. “But you can’t fool me. I bet you secretly have a favorite. You’re just too chicken to say it.”

“Or maybe,” I said, leaning forward slightly, “I just appreciate talent where I see it.”

Her eyes narrowed again, but this time, there was no wariness left—just intrigue. She was about to retort when I decided to go for broke.

“You know,” I said softly, “you’re much prettier in real life.”

For a moment, her teasing confidence faltered, her cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink. She leaned in close, her voice dropping to a mock-sweet tone. “Aww, you’re so sweet,” she cooed, fluttering her lashes exaggeratedly.

I laughed, shaking my head. “Okay, okay, I walked into that one.”

Tsuki leaned back, a triumphant smile on her face. “You did,” she said, crossing her arms smugly. “But I’ll give you points for trying. Flattery works about half the time.”

“Oh, yeah?” I asked, crossing my arms in return. “What about the other half?”

“Hmm,” she said thoughtfully, her gaze drifting over me. “That depends on how good the food is. Which reminds me…” She reached for another bite from my plate, this time without asking.

I grabbed my fork just in time, blocking her. “Nope. Not again.”

She pouted, her lower lip sticking out in a way that was probably illegal in several countries. “Aw, come on! Sharing is caring, Dino.”

“Yeah, but this is breakfast, and breakfast is sacred,” I countered, holding firm.

She tilted her head, pretending to consider this. “Okay, fine,” she said, leaning back with a mock-sigh of defeat. “But only because you called me pretty earlier.”

I chuckled, shaking my head. “Glad to know it’s not entirely wasted effort.”

She grinned, her eyes sparkling with something between mischief and genuine warmth. For all her teasing, there was a softness to her now, like she’d let me peek behind the curtain just a little.

“Alright, Dino,” she said after a pause, resting her chin on her hand. “You’ve got my attention. Let’s see if you can keep it.”

And just like that, I realized I was in deeper than I thought—and I didn’t mind one bit.

“Alright, Dino,” she said, her chin resting on her hand as she grinned. “You’ve got my attention. Let’s see if you can keep it.”

Before I could respond, she glanced at the time on her phone and let out a small gasp. “Ah, shoot,” she muttered, more to herself than me. “I’ve got schedules.”

She started gathering her things, her notebook sliding into her bag with practiced ease. I felt a pang of disappointment—our conversation was far too short for my liking, and her leaving left an unexpected void.

“So,” I said, leaning back in my chair, feigning nonchalance, “you’re just gonna leave after stealing my food and winning all the banter?”

Tsuki paused, her gaze flicking back to me, and for a moment, her smile widened like she had just remembered one last play to make. “Stealing?” she said, stepping closer to the table. “You make it sound so dramatic.”

Then, without hesitation, she swooped in and snagged another bite off my plate, the fork disappearing into her mouth before I could react. She chewed slowly, her expression making it seem like this was the best meal she’d had all week. “Mmm,” she hummed, her voice playful. “Good taste, Dino. Very… refined.”

I shook my head, laughing. “You’re shameless.”

“Absolutely,” she said unapologetically, slinging her bag over her shoulder. “It’s part of my charm.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

As she turned to leave, she paused by my chair, pulling out her phone. She tapped the screen a few times before handing it to me. “Here,” she said, holding it out. “Put your number in.”

Surprised, I looked up at her. “Oh, so now you want my number? What for, stealing more of my breakfast?”

“Maybe,” she teased, her grin turning sly. “Or maybe I’ll just text you to remind you how cute you looked, trying to keep up with me.”

I chuckled, shaking my head as I punched in my number and handed her phone back. “You’re something else, you know that?”

She winked, slipping the phone into her bag. “I’ve been told.”

As she started toward the door, she glanced over her shoulder one last time. “Don’t forget to save my number. And, Dino?”

“Yeah?” I called after her.

“Next time, order extra food. You’ll need it,” she said, her voice full of teasing warmth. Then, with a final flash of that mischievous smile, she was gone, leaving me sitting there with an empty plate and a number saved in my phone.

I stared at the door long after she left, a grin creeping across my face. Yeah, she was definitely something else.

After Tsuki left, the haze in my head finally cleared, and the world seemed to snap back into regular time. It was like my body had been frozen in her presence, every movement slowed and deliberate, and now everything moved forward again, albeit with a lingering buzz of warmth from her smile. I shook my head, chuckling softly to myself as I finished the last bite of breakfast—what was left of it after Tsuki’s little theft, anyway—and headed back “home” for the day, determined to rest up and shake off the remnants of jet lag.

The next morning, my phone buzzed, pulling me from a half-dream where I was flying through space like Kamen Rider Fourze. I rubbed my eyes, grabbed my phone, and blinked at the screen: a message from Tsuki.

Hey, so what are you doing today?

A small smile crept onto my face as I quickly typed back, Um, get groceries, then probably going to the N Seoul Tower.

There was a pause, the kind that made me second-guess my decision to respond so quickly. Then, I saw the little “…” appear as she typed, and I could almost hear her thinking on the other end. Finally, her reply popped up.

That sounds fun. I have a bunch of dance training and recording for our new comeback. Make sure to take pictures for me, babe.

I stared at the last line, my eyes widening. Babe? Did she just call me babe? Was it intentional? A typo? Some kind of casual thing I was overthinking? My mind raced as I re-read the message a dozen times, trying to decipher the meaning. For a split second, I wondered if I was still dreaming. But I took a deep breath and grounded myself, the weight of my phone in my hand reminding me this was very real.

“Alright,” I muttered to myself, “let’s just take it slow.”

I went about my morning, showering and making plans to hit the local market before heading to N Seoul Tower. I was halfway through scribbling a shopping list when my phone rang. The name “Douglas” flashed on the screen, and I groaned. Douglas never called without a reason, and it was rarely a good one.

Reluctantly, I picked up. “Hey, man. What’s up?”

“Dino!” Douglas’ voice came through, loud and enthusiastic. “How’s Korea? You settling in alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s good. Just enjoying the vacation. Taking it easy,” I replied, leaning back on the couch.

“Well,” he started, his tone shifting into the familiar, persuasive pitch he used when he wanted something, “how would you feel about shaking things up a bit? There’s a new witch popping up, and it’s close enough that—”

“Nope,” I cut him off.

“C’mon, man, hear me out—”

“Nope.”

“Look, I know you’re technically on vacation,” Douglas said, his voice heavy with exaggerated patience, “but this is a perfect opportunity. Fresh witch, untrained, probably not even a real challenge for you. In and out. Easy.”

I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Douglas, I’m on vacation. You know what that word means, right? No witch hunting. No chasing down supernatural drama. Just me, some sightseeing, and…” My mind flicked briefly to Tsuki’s text, and I hesitated before adding, “…meeting people.”

Douglas snorted. “Meeting people, huh? Sounds like there’s a story there.”

“There’s not,” I said quickly, too quickly.

“Oh, there definitely is,” he shot back, amused. “Fine, fine. Have your little break, but don’t come crying to me when this witch gets out of control and you’re stuck dealing with the fallout. Just saying.”

“Thanks for the concern,” I said dryly. “I’ll keep that in mind while I’m not chasing witches halfway across the globe. Talk later.” I hung up before he could argue further and tossed my phone onto the couch with a groan.

Why couldn’t Douglas just leave it alone? I wasn’t even sure I wanted to keep hunting witches at all anymore, but that was a conversation for another time. Right now, I had a day to enjoy.

A ping from my phone pulled my attention, and I glanced at the screen. Another message from Tsuki:

Don’t forget those pictures, okay?

A small laugh escaped me as I grabbed my shopping list and headed out the door. Whatever was going on with her—and with me—was a whole lot more interesting than chasing witches.

After picking up my groceries, I make my way back home. Just as I round the corner to the stairwell, I nearly bump straight into Tsuki. She startles slightly, her wide eyes locking with mine for a brief moment before her expression shifts. Slowly, her lips curve into that signature predatory smile that had already burned itself into my memory.

“You just couldn’t stay away, huh?” she teases, her voice a silken drawl as her fingers trail a slow line down my chest, brushing lightly between the bags of groceries I’m carrying.

I blink at her, caught off guard by the sudden closeness, and then stammer, “Uh, I think this is just a coincidence. I’m renting an apartment on the fifth floor.”

For a second, Tsuki looks genuinely surprised. Her brow lifts, her mouth parts slightly, and then her smile returns—only this time it’s sharper, almost mischievous. She tilts her head, her gaze narrowing as if she’s sizing me up all over again. “Oh, so you’re right under us,” she says, her voice laced with playful implication.

Before I can respond, another voice cuts through the charged air between us.

“Come on, lovebirds,” Moon Sua, Tsuki’s group mate and leader, calls out, her tone half-teasing, half-impatient. “I want to take a shower and nap before we all turn into pumpkins.”

Tsuki doesn’t pull back immediately, though. Instead, she lingers close, her eyes flicking from Sua back to me, her earlier boldness softening just slightly. “Guess I’ll see you around, neighbor,” she says, her tone still flirtatious but no longer as biting.

I lead the way up the stairs, Tsuki and Sua following closely behind. When I pause in front of my door to unlock it, they stop as well. Tsuki leans casually against the railing, her gaze roaming the hallway like she’s trying to memorize it.

“You really live here, huh?” she says, her voice quieter now, almost contemplative.

“I didn’t plan any of this,” I blurt out, gesturing vaguely between us, the groceries, and the building as if I need to defend myself.

Sua laughs softly, crossing her arms. “We believe you,” she says, though there’s a teasing edge in her voice. “But don’t think this means we’ll go easy on you if you cause trouble.”

Tsuki doesn’t join in on the teasing this time. Instead, she just looks at me. Her predatory edge has dulled entirely, replaced by something gentler. Her eyes are softer now, searching mine as if she’s trying to read me. Then, with a small smile, she turns and follows Sua upstairs without another word.

As I watch them disappear, two distinct feelings settle over me. The first is that odd, almost magical sensation I’d felt when I first arrived at the apartment. The second is a warmth in my chest, one that lingers even after I close the door behind me.

Later, after I’ve unpacked my groceries and am about to settle in, there’s a knock at my door.

When I open it, Tsuki is standing there, dressed down in grey sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. The shift in her demeanor is immediate and striking—gone is the teasing vixen from earlier. Now she looks almost shy, her hands tucked into the front pocket of her hoodie as she glances up at me.

“Hey,” she says softly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. Before I can ask why she’s here, she leans in and wraps her arms around me in a loose but warm hug. The gesture is so unexpected, so different from the confident, sharp-edged girl I met yesterday, that I freeze for a moment.

Her voice is muffled slightly against my shoulder as she says, “I know you wanted to see the N Seoul Tower today… but can we just hang out for a bit instead?”

I pull back enough to look at her, and the vulnerability in her expression catches me off guard. This isn’t the same Tsuki who teased me relentlessly or appraised me with that piercing gaze. This is someone softer, someone who—at least for now—seems content to just be.

“Sure,” I say, a small smile tugging at my lips.

She lights up at my response, her earlier hesitation melting away into something more familiar, though still calmer. “Great! I brought snacks, but… oh, wait—did you already eat? Or can I just steal some of your food again?” she asks, her voice light and teasing as she peeks toward my kitchen.

I chuckle and shake my head. “You might as well, since you’re here.”

We settle onto the couch, and before long, we’re watching Kaguya-sama: Love is War. Tsuki leans against me, her head resting lightly on my shoulder as we laugh at the antics of the characters on screen. There’s a warmth to her presence now, something that feels less like a game and more like genuine comfort.

For the first time since I arrived in Seoul, I don’t feel like a stranger in a new place. And as Tsuki’s soft laughter fills the room, I can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this is exactly where I’m supposed to be.

Later that evening, as we’re halfway through an episode of Kaguya-sama: Love is War, I notice Tsuki’s gaze drifting. At first, I think she’s losing interest in the show, but then I realize her eyes are locked on my arm.

“What’s this?” she asks softly, her fingers brushing over the faint, jagged scar that runs along my forearm. Her touch is light but curious, and she looks up at me with wide eyes, waiting for an explanation.

I glance at the scar, then at her, hesitating for a moment. “It’s… kind of a long story,” I say, my voice careful.

Tsuki smiles, her expression warm and encouraging. “I’ve got time,” she says, settling in closer to me. “Besides, I’m great at listening—and judging, if needed.”

I chuckle at that, shaking my head. “Okay, okay,” I start, leaning back against the couch. “So, a while back, I was volunteering on a paleontology dig. It was this remote site where they’d found some pretty rare dinosaur fossils. I was mostly there to help with grunt work—hauling dirt, reinforcing trenches, stuff like that—but I’ve always loved dinosaurs, so it felt like a dream come true.”

Tsuki perks up at the mention of dinosaurs, her eyes sparkling with interest. “Wait, wait—you’re a dinosaur nerd?” she asks, cutting in. “That’s… honestly adorable.”

“Hey, I’m telling a story here!” I protest, though I can’t help but smile.

“Fine, fine,” she says, biting her lip to stifle a grin. “Go on, dino boy.”

I roll my eyes but continue. “Anyway, one day, we were working in this trench, and it was pretty deep—like ten or twelve feet. The lead paleontologist, Dr. Patel, was down there with me, and we were trying to excavate this massive femur. But then… the walls started to collapse. There wasn’t much time to react. I saw Dr. Patel freeze, and without thinking, I pushed her out of the way. She made it, but I… didn’t exactly get out unscathed.”

Tsuki gasps, her hand flying to her mouth. “Oh my god,” she says, her voice hushed.

I nod. “Yeah. The trench caved in on me, and a lot of my bones were either crushed or fractured. It was bad. They got me out pretty quickly, but when I woke up in the hospital, the doctors were saying things like ‘limited mobility’ and ‘permanent damage.’ Dr. Patel, though—she was different. She was this genius paleontologist and a bit of a mad scientist on the side. She didn’t want to lose me or see me stuck like that after I saved her.”

Tsuki leans in closer, completely captivated. “What did she do?”

“Well,” I say, letting the suspense hang for a moment, “she had this idea. A crazy one. Some of the fossils we’d found were in pristine condition, and apparently, some of the material had regenerative properties when bonded with human bone. So, she asked if I’d let her… experiment.”

Tsuki’s jaw drops, and she smacks my arm. “Wait—you’re telling me you’ve got dinosaur bones in you?!”

“Pretty much,” I admit with a sheepish smile. “She grafted parts of the fossils to my damaged bones, and it actually worked. My body healed. I’m not saying I’m part dinosaur or anything—”

“But you are part dinosaur,” Tsuki cuts in, her grin wide. “Oh my god, you’re like some kind of dino cyborg!”

“Okay, now you’re just making it weird,” I say, laughing despite myself.

“No, no, this is amazing,” Tsuki says, her excitement bubbling over. She sits up, crossing her legs and turning to face me fully. “So, what—you’ve got, like, super strength or dino instincts now? Do you randomly crave raw meat?”

I groan. “It’s not like that. I’m still just a guy. The only real difference is that my bones are a little stronger, and sometimes they ache when the weather changes.”

Tsuki pouts, clearly disappointed. “You’re telling me you don’t even roar or anything? What’s the point?”

“You’re impossible,” I say, shaking my head.

She giggles, leaning back into me, her earlier teasing softening into something more affectionate. “Seriously, though, that’s incredible. And… kind of heroic, saving Dr. Patel like that. I mean, you sacrificed yourself for her.”

I shrug, trying to play it off. “It wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“It was, though,” she insists, her voice quieter now. “And it just makes me like you even more.”

The way she says it—so simple, so earnest—makes my chest tighten. Before I can respond, though, she’s back to teasing.

“So, tell me,” she says, her grin returning. “Was this whole dinosaur thing fate, or were you just born to love dinos? Like, did baby Dino collect T-Rex toys?”

I laugh, running a hand through my hair. “Maybe a little bit of both. I mean, I did go through a phase where I tried to convince my parents I was a velociraptor.”

Tsuki gasps dramatically. “Oh my god, that’s adorable. You’re like a walking dino encyclopedia, aren’t you?”

“Guilty,” I admit, grinning.

She sighs happily, leaning her head on my shoulder again. “Well, dino boy,” she says softly, her voice tinged with affection, “you’re officially the coolest guy I’ve ever met. Literally.”

For the rest of the night, we don’t watch much of the show. Instead, she peppers me with questions about dinosaurs and the dig, her fascination turning what could have been an embarrassing story into something that feels… special.

It was late, and the quiet hum of the city filtered in through my open window. Tsuki had just left after another evening of teasing, laughter, and watching anime. I was tidying up when my phone buzzed.

“Forgot something. Coming back down,” her text read.

A knock came moments later. When I opened the door, Tsuki stood there with an apologetic smile, her hand tucked behind her back. “I left my bracelet,” she said, brushing past me and scanning the room.

“Uh, I don’t remember seeing one,” I said, following her.

She made a beeline for the couch, crouching down and checking underneath. “Ah, found it,” she said, holding up a delicate silver chain with a small charm—a crescent moon.

“I’m pretty sure that wasn’t there five minutes ago,” I said, narrowing my eyes.

Tsuki shrugged, but there was a flicker of something mischievous in her expression. “You must’ve missed it,” she said lightly, slipping the bracelet onto her wrist.

I wasn’t convinced, but before I could press further, the light above us flickered. Once, then twice, before going out completely.

“Great,” I muttered, fumbling for my phone flashlight.

“Wait,” Tsuki said quickly, her voice unusually firm. “Don’t.”

I paused, looking over at her in the dim light. Her expression was… different. Serious. Focused.

“What are you—”

She raised her hand, palm up, and for a split second, I thought I saw a faint glow—a soft, silvery light that danced along her fingertips. It was gone as quickly as it appeared, and before I could even process it, the overhead light flickered back to life, steady and bright.

Tsuki straightened, her usual playful smile sliding back into place as if nothing had happened. “See? Problem solved,” she said, brushing her hands together.

I blinked at her. “What… was that?”

“What was what?” she asked innocently, tilting her head.

“The lights,” I said, gesturing vaguely at the ceiling. “They just… fixed themselves?”

“Maybe the wiring just needed a second to chill,” she said, casually brushing past me toward the door. “Anyway, thanks for letting me grab my bracelet. I’ll see you tomorrow, dino boy.”

Before I could respond, she slipped out, leaving me standing there, more confused than ever. I glanced at the couch where she’d “found” her bracelet, then at the door she’d just closed.

For a moment, I thought back to the way the air had seemed to shift when the lights went out—heavy, electric, and charged with something I couldn’t quite name.

I shook my head. “Must be the jet lag,” I muttered to myself, turning off the lights and heading to bed.

Still, as I lay there, I couldn’t shake the image of her hand, glowing faintly in the darkness.

After that I finished unpacking my groceries.After unpacking the groceries and settling onto the couch, I let out a long sigh. My phone buzzed on the table, lighting up with Retsu’s name. I debated letting it ring, but guilt pushed me to pick up.

“Hey, Retsu,” I said, trying to keep my tone casual.

“Dino,” she said softly, her voice immediately grounding me like it always did. “I’ve been worried about you. How are you holding up?”

I leaned back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “I’m fine. Just… tired, I guess.”

Her sigh on the other end was subtle but heavy with understanding. “It’s no surprise. You’ve been running yourself ragged these past few years. You’ve never really let yourself rest.”

“Yeah, well, that’s kind of the job, isn’t it?” I said, trying to downplay the weight in my chest.

“Maybe,” she admitted, her voice warm and gentle, “but you’re not a machine, Dino. You’re still human, even with everything you’ve been through. You deserve a break.”

Her kindness made my throat tighten. Retsu had always been like a second mother to me—always looking out for me, even when I didn’t think I needed it.

“I’m trying to take one now,” I said, my voice quieter.

“I know, and I’m glad you are,” she said, her tone softening even more. “But I wouldn’t be calling if I didn’t think it was important. There’s something stirring in Seoul, Dino. Something we haven’t seen before. I wouldn’t ask you to get involved unless I thought you could handle it. But… I also won’t push you. If you’re not ready, I understand.”

Her words caught me off guard. I had been expecting her usual insistence, but instead, she sounded… careful. Like she was trying not to hurt me.

“I don’t know, Retsu,” I admitted, running a hand through my hair. “I came here to clear my head. I don’t even know if this is who I am anymore.”

“You don’t have to decide that today,” she said gently. “Take your time. But promise me something?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t shut yourself off from the world. Let yourself feel things, experience things. If you let your heart lead you, I think you’ll find your way.”

I closed my eyes, the weight of her words settling over me. “I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask,” she said, her voice warm with approval. “And Dino?”

“Yeah?”

“You’ve always been stronger than you give yourself credit for. Whatever path you choose, I’ll always be here for you. Don’t forget that, okay?”

A lump formed in my throat, and I had to swallow hard before responding. “Thanks, Retsu.”

“You’re welcome, my boy,” she said, a faint smile in her voice. “Take care of yourself. And… be careful out there.”

Before I could hang up, her voice softened even further. “Wait, Dino. One more thing. You’ve seemed… different lately. Lighter, almost. Is there something—someone—making you smile?”

I froze for a moment, caught off guard. Then, without thinking, I said, “There’s this girl.”

Retsu chuckled on the other end, a sound full of warmth and encouragement. “Oh? Tell me about her.”

I hesitated, a smile creeping onto my face despite myself. “Her name’s Tsuki. She’s… different. Confident, funny, kind of overwhelming at first, but in a good way. And she’s so full of life, like she’s daring the world to keep up with her.”

Retsu hummed thoughtfully, her tone teasing. “Sounds like she’s made quite the impression on you.”

“She has,” I admitted, my voice softening. “She’s not just… some random person. There’s something about her. When I’m with her, I feel like… I don’t know. Like I can just be myself, without everything else hanging over me.”

Retsu was quiet for a moment before speaking again, her voice full of tenderness. “It sounds like she’s good for you, Dino. And I can tell she means a lot to you already.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “She does. But… I’m worried, too.”

“Why?”

“Because of who I am. What I’ve done. What if she finds out and…” I trailed off, unable to finish the thought.

“Dino,” Retsu said firmly but gently, “you deserve happiness, just like anyone else. If this girl is as special as you say she is, then give her the chance to see the real you. You might be surprised at how strong she is.”

Her words settled in my chest, warm and reassuring. “Thanks, Retsu.”

“Always,” she said softly. “Now, go on and enjoy your time with her. The rest will figure itself out.”

I was running late, the result of spending far too much time debating whether my outfit was too casual or trying too hard. When I finally arrived at the park, Tsuki was already there, perched on a bench under the shade of a cherry blossom tree. She wore a simple sundress, white with small floral patterns, and her hair was loose, flowing like a soft curtain around her shoulders.

She didn’t notice me at first, her focus on the sky above. For a moment, I just stood there, watching her. She looked peaceful, almost otherworldly, like she belonged to this quiet corner of the world more than anyone else.

“Are you just going to stare, or are you going to join me?” she called, turning her head with a smirk.

I laughed, walking up to her. “How’d you know I was here?”

She tapped her temple. “Intuition. I’m good at sensing things.”

We started walking along the park trail, the sunlight filtering through the leaves above. She was full of energy, asking me questions about my time in Korea so far, teasing me whenever I gave a hesitant answer. But as we reached a quieter part of the trail, her demeanor shifted slightly, becoming softer, more introspective.

“You know,” she said, brushing her hand against the petals of a low-hanging branch, “this spot is one of my favorites. It feels… alive. Like it has its own rhythm.”

“I can see that,” I said, glancing around. The air did feel different here—lighter, warmer.

She stopped and turned to face me, her eyes searching mine. “Do you ever feel like there’s more to the world than what we see?”

It was an odd question, but there was something in the way she asked it that made me pause. “I guess so,” I said carefully. “Like… there’s stuff out there we can’t explain?”

Tsuki smiled faintly, her fingers trailing along the bark of a nearby tree. “Exactly. Sometimes I think people get too caught up in what’s ‘normal.’ They don’t notice the small, magical things happening all around them.”

She looked at me then, her gaze intense but kind. “You seem different, though. Like you might actually notice.”

I wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so I just shrugged. “I guess I’ve always been a little curious about things. Or maybe just weird.”

She laughed, the sound light and musical. “Weird is good. Weird is… charming.”

We kept walking, eventually settling on a grassy hill overlooking a pond. We sat close together, and I noticed her playing with her bracelet—the same crescent moon charm I’d seen before.

“Is that special to you?” I asked, nodding toward it.

She hesitated, her fingers pausing. “Yeah. It was a gift.”

“From someone important?”

Tsuki tilted her head, her expression unreadable. “You could say that. It’s kind of like… a reminder. Of who I am. Or maybe who I’m supposed to be.”

Before I could ask more, a sudden gust of wind blew through the park, scattering petals into the air. They swirled around us, catching the light in a way that felt almost deliberate, like the wind had chosen that moment just for us.

“Wow,” I said, watching the petals dance. “That’s… beautiful.”

Tsuki smiled, her eyes following the petals. “It is, isn’t it?”

There was something in her tone, like she knew more about what was happening than she let on. She reached out, catching a petal in her hand and holding it out to me. “Here. A little souvenir.”

I took it, my fingers brushing against hers. The touch lingered longer than it should have, but neither of us pulled away.

“You’re full of surprises,” I said, looking at her.

“You have no idea,” she replied, her smile playful but her eyes holding a depth that made my chest feel tight.

As we walked back toward the entrance of the park, I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something extraordinary about her—something just out of reach. And yet, I didn’t care. Whatever it was, I wanted to know her more.

Over the next few days, Tsuki and I bonded over music, anime, and video games. She had this infectious enthusiasm that pulled me into her world effortlessly. When we weren’t geeking out over the latest Demon Slayer episode or arguing over who had the better K-pop playlists, we were out exploring Seoul—Hongdae, Gwangjang Market, Myeongdong. Every street seemed brighter with her beside me.

By the end of my first week, something shifted between us. Tsuki… well, she kinda asked me out. Let me explain: as we spent more time together, her emotional state changed. The flirtatious, dizzying vixen I first met gave way to someone softer, clingier, and—dare I say—sweeter. She became an affectionate, lovesick bunny, and I finally understood how she’d earned that nickname.

If we could be together, we were. Always. She was constantly reaching out, whether it was grabbing my hand, looping her arm through mine, or wrapping me in spontaneous hugs. She craved physical affection in a way that made it impossible not to reciprocate. Her energy, which was already high when we met, seemed to triple whenever I was around. We were always doing something—or on our way to do something else—whenever she “borrowed me,” as she put it.

Part of me loved it. Part of me found it exhausting. It was like being swept up in a whirlwind I didn’t know I’d stepped into.

By the time my third week in Seoul ended, I realized I’d done nearly everything I’d planned for this trip—except visit the N Seoul Tower. The one thing I’d wanted to do solo had slipped through the cracks, buried under a mountain of late-night game marathons, impromptu karaoke sessions, and hours spent wandering the city with Tsuki.

We were sitting in a cozy corner booth at her favorite café that day, the soft hum of chatter and clinking mugs offering a much-needed reprieve from the chaos of the streets. Tsuki, of course, was the opposite of calm.

“You’re so wrong about that!” she exclaimed, waving a forkful of cheesecake at me. “How can you think the opening to Attack on Titan is better than Demon Slayer? Like, no contest!”

“It’s objectively better,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. “The vocals? The composition? It’s iconic.”

She groaned dramatically, collapsing against the booth. “You’re hopeless, Dinovaldo. Completely hopeless.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “And yet here you are, stuck with me.”

“Stuck? Please,” she said, sitting upright again with a teasing grin. “I chose this. You’re like my favorite toy. I don’t just toss you aside.”

The comment caught me off guard, but before I could respond, she reached across the table to steal a bite of my sandwich.

“Hey!” I protested, though I didn’t really care.

She grinned, chewing triumphantly. “You shouldn��t leave it unattended. Rookie mistake.”

I rolled my eyes, leaning back in my seat. Watching her bask in her small victory, I felt that warm, confusing pull in my chest again. She had this way of making me feel like I was the only person in the world, even when she was teasing me to no end.

“Hey,” she said suddenly, her tone softening as she looked at me. “You’re quiet. What’s up?”

“Just… thinking,” I said, glancing out the window. “I’ve been here almost a month now. Time’s flying by.”

Her face fell slightly, and for the first time in days, she seemed to sit still. “Oh. Right. You’re leaving soon.”

There was a pause, the kind that made my chest tighten uncomfortably.

“You know,” she began, her voice quieter now, “I’ve really liked having you around. You make everything feel… I don’t know. Better?”

Her honesty caught me off guard. I wasn’t used to hearing her so vulnerable, and it made me feel guilty for ever thinking she was too much.

“I’ve liked being around you too,” I admitted, scratching the back of my neck. “It’s been… different, in a good way.”

She smiled, a softer one than her usual cheeky grin, and it made my chest tighten all over again.

“Then let’s keep making memories while we can,” she said, suddenly back to her high-energy self. “Starting with me absolutely crushing you in Mario Kart later.”

I laughed, the tension easing. “You’re on, bunny.”

Later, as we strolled back to my apartment, she suddenly stopped in front of a street vendor selling handmade bracelets.

“Wait, wait!” she said, tugging my sleeve. “Look at these!”

Before I could respond, she was already chatting with the vendor, her eyes sparkling as she held up a delicate bracelet with tiny charms shaped like stars and moons.

“This one’s cute,” she said, holding it up to me. “What do you think?”

“It’s nice,” I said, smiling at her enthusiasm.

She handed it to the vendor, along with another bracelet—this one with little dinosaur charms.

“For you,” she said, slipping it onto my wrist before I could protest. “Now you can’t forget me, even when you go back home.”

I looked at the bracelet, then at her, feeling that now-familiar warmth in my chest. “Thanks, Tsuki.”

“Don’t mention it,” she said, looping her arm through mine as we walked.

And for the first time, I realized I didn’t want this whirlwind to end.

“So, what are you planning to do today?” Tsuki asked, practically bouncing in her seat, her eyes sparkling with excitement. She leaned forward, resting her chin in her hand as she stared at me with that eager look she always had. “You better be planning something fun! I mean, you’re in the city, you can’t just sit around!”

I laughed, trying to keep up with her rapid-fire thoughts. “I was thinking of seeing some of the sights, maybe going to the N Seoul Tower.”

Her eyes widened with excitement, and before I could say anything else, she nearly hopped out of her seat. “Oh my god, yes! That sounds amazing! We should totally go together, I’ve always wanted to check it out with someone fun!” She leaned across the table, suddenly much closer than I expected, her grin wide and full of energy.

I blinked in surprise, not quite prepared for how enthusiastic she was. “Uh, sure, if you want,” I said, unsure whether it was just the coffee or Tsuki’s presence making my heart race a little faster.

“Of course I want! I want to see everything! I love exploring, and I’m gonna make sure you have the best time ever!” Tsuki’s energy was contagious, and for a moment, I found myself caught up in it. She reached over, ruffling my hair playfully. “You’re just too cute, you know that?”

I laughed, trying to play it cool, though I was clearly flustered. “Thanks, I guess? You really know how to make someone feel… special.”

“Of course I do!” Tsuki’s grin grew wider, and she leaned even closer, her face inches from mine now. “You’re one of my favorite people already. It’s like we’ve known each other forever!” She placed her hand on mine, squeezing it tightly. “I’m serious, Dino. I’ve got this feeling, and I know it’s gonna be amazing. You’re gonna love spending time with me!”

Her words were filled with such affection, and her smile was practically glowing. It was hard not to feel the warmth of her presence, as if her energy was completely infectious.

“Well, if you’re that excited about it, how can I say no?” I replied, half-laughing, half-lost in her enthusiasm.

Tsuki leaned back slightly, eyes twinkling. “Exactly! You’ll thank me later, I promise.” She suddenly looked at me with a playful smirk. “But first, are you gonna finish that pastry or do I need to help you out?”

I blinked at her, confused for a moment, but before I could answer, she grabbed the last piece of my pastry and took a big bite, all while laughing like it was the funniest thing ever. “Mmm, you really have good taste, Dino,” she teased, licking her lips.

I shook my head, trying to hide my smile. “That’s… that’s my food, Tsuki.”

She just shrugged with a grin. “I know. But I’m your friend, right? Friends share everything!” She leaned in closer, eyes sparkling mischievously. “And I’m totally gonna make sure you’re happy on this little adventure of ours. I just know you’re gonna fall for this city once we’re done.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at how carefree and affectionate she was. It was almost as if she couldn’t help herself, her excitement and energy just spilling over. But the thing was—there was something about it that felt… nice. Warm. Comfortable. Like a constant, reassuring presence.

She rested her head on my shoulder for a moment, still holding my hand, completely unbothered by the affectionate gesture. “I’m serious, though,” she said, her voice much softer now, “I’m really glad we’re hanging out. I like being around you, Dino.” Her tone had shifted from playful to something sweeter, more genuine. “You’re one of the easiest people to talk to, and I can’t wait to make more memories with you.”

I felt a strange warmth spread through my chest, her words wrapping around me in a way that made me feel like I was part of something bigger than just a random meeting.

Before I could respond, Tsuki was already back to her high-energy self, her eyes wide with excitement again. “So, are we going to the tower now or what?”

I smiled, completely charmed by her infectious energy. “Yeah, let’s go.”

She grinned ear to ear, squeezing my hand once more before practically dragging me out of my seat. “Yesss! I knew you’d be the best! This is gonna be SO much fun!”

The date started with the golden hues of twilight painting the sky as Tsuki grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the base of N Seoul Tower. She was practically vibrating with excitement, her energy spilling over into hurried footsteps and constant chatter.

“Finally, the tower!” she exclaimed, bouncing slightly as we reached the cable car station. “Can you believe we almost didn’t do this? I mean, this is like the iconic Seoul date spot. You’re lucky to have me planning things.”

“Planning?” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “Didn’t I bring this up like three weeks ago?”

Tsuki stopped mid-step, turning to pout at me. “Okay, fine, maybe it was your idea. But who actually made it happen?” She jabbed a finger into my chest, her eyes narrowing in mock accusation.

“Point taken,” I said, chuckling. “You’re definitely the brains of this operation.”

“And don’t forget it,” she said, her pout melting into a triumphant grin as she pulled me into the cable car.

The ride up was breathtaking. The city stretched out below us in an endless sea of lights, twinkling like stars on Earth. But even with that view, I couldn’t take my eyes off Tsuki. Her face was pressed against the glass, her eyes wide with wonder, and her excitement was contagious.

“Look at that!” she said, pointing at the illuminated tower as we approached. “Isn’t it magical?”

“It’s pretty amazing,” I admitted, though I wasn’t sure if I was talking about the view or her.

When we finally reached the top, Tsuki immediately dragged me to the observation deck. She was practically bouncing on her toes as we walked around, taking in the panoramic view of Seoul.

“This is it,” she said, stopping at the railing and leaning over slightly. “Isn’t it beautiful?”

I nodded, standing beside her. “Yeah, it is.”

She glanced at me, her usual energy dimming for a moment as a shy smile crept across her face. “Thanks for coming here with me, Dino. This… this means a lot.”

Before I could respond, she tugged on my arm. “Come on, let’s do the locks!”

She pulled me over to the section of the deck filled with colorful padlocks, each one a promise of love left by couples from all over the world. Tsuki rummaged in her bag and pulled out a small, heart-shaped lock and a marker.

“I got this earlier,” she said, her cheeks turning a light shade of pink. “I thought it’d be fun, you know?”

I watched as she scribbled her name on one half of the lock, then handed the marker to me. My heart pounded in my chest as I wrote my name beside hers.

“Perfect,” she said, grinning as she clipped the lock onto the railing. “Now we’re officially part of the tower’s history.”

There was a pause, the kind that felt charged with something unspoken. Tsuki turned to face me, her usual high energy replaced with something softer, more vulnerable.

“You know,” she began, her voice quieter now, “I’ve been thinking a lot about… us.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse quickening. “Yeah?”

She nodded, biting her lip. “You make me feel… different. Like I’m more myself when I’m with you. I know I’m all over the place and maybe too much sometimes, but—”

“Tsuki,” I interrupted, my voice steady despite the storm inside me. “You’re not too much. You’re perfect the way you are.”

Her eyes widened slightly, and for once, she seemed at a loss for words. Then, as if some invisible wall had broken, she stepped closer, her hands reaching for mine.

“I really like you, Dinovaldo,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I really like you too,” I replied, the words coming out before I could even think.

Her smile lit up the night, and in that moment, it felt like the entire city disappeared. But as we stood there, something strange happened.

The air around her seemed to shimmer faintly, like heat waves rising from the pavement on a summer day. It was subtle at first, but then I felt it—a warmth spreading through my chest, a gentle, all-encompassing comfort that felt like a hug for my soul.

I blinked, looking at her in confusion. “Tsuki… what is that?”

She froze, her eyes widening as if she’d been caught. “What’s what?”

“That… feeling,” I said, struggling to put it into words. “It’s like… warmth. But not physical. It’s coming from you.”

Her cheeks flushed, and she stepped back slightly, breaking eye contact. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Tsuki,” I said, my voice firm but gentle. “I felt it. Don’t lie to me.”

She hesitated, chewing on her bottom lip. Finally, she sighed, her shoulders slumping. “Okay, fine. But… can we talk about it later? Tonight’s supposed to be special.”

I wanted to press her, to demand answers, but the look in her eyes stopped me. Instead, I nodded. “Okay. Later.”

Her smile returned, though it was a little shaky. She reached out, intertwining her fingers with mine. “Thank you, Dino. For everything.”

As we stood there, gazing out at the city lights, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this moment was the start of something much bigger than either of us could have imagined. Something magical.

The subtle shimmer around Tsuki intensified as we stood on the observation deck. The warmth I’d felt earlier was no longer faint—it wrapped around me like a cocoon, seeping into every corner of my being. The feeling wasn’t just comforting; it was electric, powerful, and alive.

And it was coming from Tsuki.

I stared at her, my breath catching in my throat. Her usual high-energy glow had transformed into something otherworldly. The air around her seemed to ripple, faint tendrils of soft pink light swirling around her like an aurora. It was mesmerizing, but also terrifying.

“Tsuki…” My voice came out as a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the city below. “What’s happening?”

She froze, her fingers still entwined with mine. Her wide eyes met mine, and for a moment, I saw fear flicker across her face. “Dino,” she said softly, her voice trembling, “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

“Find out what?” I asked, my heart pounding in my chest.

Tsuki took a deep breath, her hands clutching mine as if grounding herself. The swirling light around her grew stronger, more defined, taking on the shape of tiny hearts that floated upward before dissolving into the night. “I… I’m a witch, Dino. A love witch.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. A witch. She was a witch.

I’d spent years hunting her kind, carrying out the mission that Retsu had entrusted to me. Witches were dangerous, deceitful, and destructive. They weren’t supposed to be… Tsuki.

My mind raced, piecing together all the moments that hadn’t made sense—the way I felt so inexplicably drawn to her, the way her presence could shift my emotions, the warmth that seemed to radiate from her. It was all her magic.

“You’re a witch,” I said, more to myself than to her. My head screamed at me to pull away, to remember my training, to see her as the enemy. But my heart refused to let go.

“Yes,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “But I’m still me, Dino. I’m still the same girl who loves anime, video games, and exploring Seoul with you. I didn’t want to use my magic on you, but sometimes… sometimes it’s hard to control.”

Her confession was raw, vulnerable, and it shattered something inside me. Despite everything I knew—or thought I knew—I couldn’t bring myself to see her as a threat. She wasn’t dangerous. She wasn’t deceitful. She was just Tsuki.

As I stood there, torn between my duty and my feelings, she stepped closer, her gaze searching mine. “Dino, I understand if you hate me now,” she said, her voice trembling. “But please believe me when I say I didn’t mean to make you feel anything you didn’t already feel.”

I stared at her, my mind spinning. Did I feel this way because of her magic? Or was it real? The questions swirled in my head, but one thing was clear: whatever this was, it wasn’t something I could fight.

“I don’t hate you,” I said finally, my voice hoarse.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and for a moment, the shimmering light around her stilled. “You don’t?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel, but I know I can’t hate you. You’re… you’re too important to me.”

Her lips parted, and the light around her flared again, brighter this time. It pulsed, synchronizing with the pounding of my heart. “Dino,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion.

Before I could think, before I could second-guess myself, I leaned in. Her breath hitched, and then our lips met.

The moment we kissed, the magic surged, enveloping us in a burst of energy. I felt it wrap around us, binding us together in a way that went beyond the physical. It wasn’t just warmth anymore—it was a blazing fire, a connection so deep and overwhelming that it left me breathless.

Images flashed through my mind, memories of every moment we’d shared: her laughter, her touch, the way she looked at me like I was the only person in the world. And then there were glimpses of her—a younger Tsuki, alone and scared, her magic blooming for the first time, the joy and pain that had shaped her into the woman she was now.

When we finally broke apart, I was trembling. She was too, her hands clutching my arms as if afraid to let go. “Dino,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper, “our souls… they’re connected now.”

I didn’t fully understand what she meant, but I could feel it—this invisible thread that tied us together, stronger than anything I’d ever known. It wasn’t just her magic. It was us.

“I don’t know what this means,” I admitted, my voice shaky. “But I know I don’t want to lose you.”

Her eyes filled with tears, and she smiled—a smile so radiant it outshone the city lights. “You won’t,” she said softly. “I promise.”

As we stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, I realized that everything had changed. I didn’t know what the future held, but I knew one thing for certain: I couldn’t imagine it without her.

#k-pop fanfic #tsuki fanfic #tsuki billlie

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hapan-in-exile · 1 day ago

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Volume 4 - Bonus Post: Never Knew I Needed You

Another installment in this ongoing serialized fanfic

GIF by @perotovar

A/N: this is a bonus post with OFC + Mando's POV

*Part 1 of 3* in an extended flashback episode I'm writing for Volume 4: Smart Girl like You. We go back to the beginning of Mando x ofc-reader's relationship to help set up some important events that will occur in the climax of Vol 4.

Genre: Mandalorian x Fem! Reader

Rating: Explicit - smut, language, 18+ MINORS DNI *NSFW*

The first time you saw inside the Mandalorian’s weapons locker, your stomach leapt ominously into your throat. Sweat dampening your scalp from sleep cast a chill—despite the ship’s stale air—as all the blood in your veins went cold. You can still remember the panicked salivation that flooded your mouth, leaving a metallic taste to linger on your tongue.

It wasn’t the weapons that frightened you. You’d survived active combat in the war and had most recently worked for a galactic criminal cartel.

No. It wasn’t the weapons. It was the shock of realization, hitting you like a bolt from one of his blasters, that you were trapped on board this ship with a man who stood to make a lot of money off your death.

Or would he bring you in alive to claim the bounty?

Suddenly, you regretted not knowing the details, but you still hadn’t found the courage to read the contract. A naive indulgence. Yet, before meeting the Mandalorian, the details hardly seemed to matter. The penalty for passing through the Transitory Mists, beyond the boundary of the Hapes Cluster, was execution. You’d end up dead one way or another.

But, given the circumstances surrounding your escape, perhaps the Consortium believed you were worth more to them alive. For interrogation? Torture? Maybe the Queen really would pay to watch the light go out in your eyes, just as she promised.

Either way, there was no denying that whether he threw you into his holding cell or a body bag, the Mandalorian would earn what amounted to a small fortune. More money than he’d made on his last job, anyway. Collecting debts for warlords didn’t appear to be all that lucrative.

Staring at his neatly mounted arsenal was a stark reminder that there wasn’t much you could do to stop him. You recognized nearly every piece of weaponry in that cabinet and understood very well, what exactly that kind of firepower could do to a person. And the scale of violence he’d committed with it.

You’d seen the way he took out your attackers on Dorumaa.

Without an inch of him uncovered, your abilities wouldn’t do much to protect you. The Beskar helmet blocked your influence, denying any insight into his intentions. And he never removed his armor, even to sleep.

When he did sleep.

Mando (and, it’s funny to think about how ridiculous it felt calling him that in the beginning), he seemed like an honorable man. He had, on occasion, shown genuine kindness. But you hadn’t stepped off the ship in days and were beginning to wonder if you were something closer to a prisoner than a guest. Wondering what the odds are that he’s known about the price on your head since the moment you met.

And that’s how you’d spent the past few days—week?—since the Mandalorian saved you from the flaming wreckage of your apartment. Stuck in this endless calculus balancing risk against intuition. Ready to trust him, yet constantly waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Like now. When your awareness of just how fucking helpless you are is made manifest by standing before him in nothing but your underwear and an oversized shirt, caught on your way back from the privy by the locker door blocking your entrance into the sleeping compartment.

While he stands there in full plate Beskar, holding an assault rifle.

The sleeping compartment…only slightly bigger than a coffin, with about the same amount of circulation. And yet, you’ve never wanted anything more than to seal yourself inside before you accidentally reveal to him that you are a wanted fugitive and/or that you’d fallen way behind on your personal hygiene.

Had he been…praying over the weapons?

“I didn’t realize you were up,” he says in a low voice, reaching out with leather fingers to close the locker door. You force yourself not to flinch when his hand passes mere inches from your face.

“Forgot to brush my teeth,” you shrug, offering a polite smile.

Fortunately, you’d fallen asleep wearing the visor. So, while you had forgotten to put pants on before crawling out of bed, you hadn’t forgotten the most important piece of your disguise. He’d already taught you a valuable lesson—to sleep in your armor.

There’s a chance the Mandalorian had never known, or at least, never seen, another Hapan. Maybe he hadn’t heard the stories. For most people, all it took was one furtive glance into your glowing violet eyes to exclaim, ‘What are you?!’ And that’s not a conversation you want to enter into with this legendary bounty hunter.

You don’t want to lie to him. He won’t believe you.

The visor might be the only reason you aren’t currently imprisoned inside a holding cell.

Your eyes dart up to look behind the Mandalorian. A brief glimpse over his shoulder, where his latest quarry is mounted, hanging from the rack. The scream on their lips is encased in carbonite.

Another reminder to make your stomach quiver. Mando’s holding cell would be a kindness.

While he can’t know what you’re looking at from behind the vizor lens, he must have noticed how tense you are, hypnotized by the weapons and his imposing figure.

Gods have mercy, he is so tall.

Your smile remains fixed on your face, but you haven’t moved to climb back inside the sleeping compartment. You can’t. You’re frozen to the spot.

Nodding toward the locker, Mando calmly asks, “You know how to handle one of these?”

His tone is remarkably casual, as if inquiring about one of your hobbies.

Well, he’s a Mandalorian. Blasters are probably a ready source of conversation.

Wait! Is he making…small talk?

See, this is why you keep forgetting that Mando is a trained killer. He could be surprisingly thoughtful. Not in terms of politeness but in his actions. Ignoring your panic instead of pressing his advantage. Pretending you weren’t scared of him so that you, in turn, could pretend he didn’t scare you.

If the gallantry was an act to keep you docile and compliant, it was working. You’d come with him willingly, and you hadn’t pushed back about staying on board the ship. His presence was intimidating, but you weren’t afraid. Not truly.

Then your eyes catch sight of the grenade launcher, and you remember that you should be.

----------

Shit.

The Mandalorian cursed his bad timing. He needed to take the rifle with him tomorrow, and though he’d waited the better part of a day to gather and clean his blasters, hoping to avoid this very situation, it had happened anyway.

It was a delicate thing. Thus far, he’d been keeping her captive on board the Crest through subtle coercion. If someone from Black Sun—whoever sold her out to get their hands on the kid—if they were in pursuit, Mando needed to keep moving. And he felt certain that if he left her at some fringer outpost, she would immediately be picked up by a mercenary or Guild hunter.

Protecting the Healer against her will was something he could live with. If it came to that. He was doing this for her own safety, as much as the Child’s.

Mando wasn’t ready to give her the details about what had happened on Nevarro.

Not yet, anyway. She’d risked her life to save them, but…she might feel differently about her allegiance once she knew who was chasing them. Dodging cartel thugs was not the same as escaping from Imperials.

A few more jumps, and the trail will go cold.

If he could manage it. Mando wasn’t good with subtly. He could tell she saw through his pretext, but she hadn’t pushed back. That was something. Probably because she thinks it’s safer to play along than risk provoking you. Women made these kinds of calculations all the time. For whatever reason, he didn’t like the idea that Thulani was making the same calculation about him.

It’s because you like her, he chided himself. More than is safe for someone like you.

And dammit, that was a problem. He liked her. He liked her contradictions. She was definitely running from something. Something she was too afraid to voice aloud.

Why else would she agree to crisscross the Outer Rim?

But that didn’t stop her easy laughter. No matter where she was—reading in bed, sitting behind him in the cockpit, chasing the kid down the loading ramp, her laughter filled the Crest like a melody he knew by heart but had forgotten the words to.

Mando could only imagine the horrific shit she must have seen working for Black Sun. But she had a smile that could outshine the brightest star. She was sweet and vivid. The type of person with the patience and curiosity to look for the best in people. He could sense that she wanted to trust him.

That’s why the Mandalorian was careful not to do anything to suggest he might use force to keep her from leaving the ship.

And now he had her trapped, half-dressed and half asleep with a loaded rifle in his hands.

She was scared, and he couldn’t blame her.

Trying not to show it.

The Mandalorian was a large man. He was also very dangerous. Plenty of women found that attractive. He got the sense that Thulani might. But he also knew how easily attraction could turn into panic. Like now.

Mando watched her pulse thundering against her throat, the way her nipples pinched when she shivered in trepidation…and had never been more grateful to have his face hidden behind this helmet.

She had the most perfectly rounded breasts—and, as it turned out, very large nipples. The hem of her shirt barely covered her thighs.

Mando knew immediately she wasn’t wearing much of anything underneath it. And that she did not shave her pubic hair.

It was his shirt, actually. Something he’d given her, along with a few other clothes he kept in storage to insulate the space suit he rarely had reason to use. She had wanted to visit the market in Black Spire to search for something to sleep in, and he offered them up instead.

Thulani had found room in her pack for a beaded gown, leather pants, three different pairs of shoes, and a flight jacket. But nothing to sleep in. Mando had no idea what to make of this woman.

Now, he tried not to think about her lying in bed wearing nothing. So, instead, he thought about her wearing nothing but his shirt.

Farrik, it was hard to shake the knowledge that its fabric, clinging to her every glorious curve, had, once before, been pressed against his own skin. Why did that feel more intimate than he had—?

An image of himself holding her, one hand squeezing her breast in his wide palm while the other reached between her thighs, sent a jolt of desire through his body that traveled directly to his cock.

Mando gripped the rifle tighter before he could stop himself.

The Mandalorian didn’t want to draw attention to her state of undress by giving away any reaction. Especially not that kind of reaction. That would just make her uncomfortable. She couldn’t see him staring—which was a fucking relief because he was definitely staring. If there was any chance she might make a habit of walking around the Crest in her underwear, and he really hoped there would be, then she needed to feel like it was perfectly natural. She needed to feel safe.

Quick, say something.

“You know how to handle one of these?” he asked, nodding towards the locker.

Stupid fucking question, he rolled his eyes. This is why it’s better to stay quiet.

But maybe she would feel less helpless holding a weapon?

It would be an illusion. There was nothing she could do to defend herself against the Mandalorian. Whatever power she wielded, he felt certain it required skin contact, and she’d be hard-pressed to get to him.

If he wanted to overpower her, he could easily take her by force. He suspected she knew that. And yet, allowing her a blaster might make her feel like less of a prisoner.

She still hadn’t answered his question.

Clever, he conceded. Trying to decide how much of herself to reveal.

Which was not, in itself, suspicious. Falling in with a Mandalorian by chance, it would be naive of her to immediately confide her life’s story.

Yet Mando hoped she would answer truthfully and be forthcoming. He was surprised to discover he wanted to learn more about her.

He wanted her to trust him.

So he returned the rifle to its mount and stepped back to let her inspect the weapons inside the locker.

----------

Shit! Shit! Shit! How long have you been staring at him in dumbstruck silence, trying to decide on an answer?

Should you risk revealing something about yourself? What if it’s some trick to confirm your identity? The Consortium knew you had served in the Rebel Army.

Or perhaps you should hide your background for strategic advantage? It might help your escape if he underestimated you. If you needed to escape…

OR maybe you should stop overthinking everything and just answer the goddammed question.

The problem is you like Mando. Too much, if you’re being honest. You like the enigma. That, for some reason, this dangerous man makes you feel safe.

And it’s not a simple dichotomy of brain versus heart, either. Other parts of your anatomy wanted a say in the decision-making process. The Mandalorian had this aura about him that called to you. Drew you in. Fear and longing can be an irresistible paradox.

“Yes,” you reply, deciding to answer truthfully.

Just leave it at that. Mando can’t complain since he’s not much of a talker himself. He’s not…oh, not rude. Not exactly. Brusque may be a better word to describe him.

You are not brusque. You are chatty. The type of person who tells stories with your whole body while doing all the voices. So you don’t want him to suspect you of being secretive. And maybe if you shared something about yourself, it might encourage him to do the same.

You’d like to know more about him.

“I was a soldier—Well,” you shrug. “A combat medic. Embedded with the mobile infantry division. That’s where I learned emergency medicine. Perfect training for a doctor in organized crime, as it turns out.”

“Really?” the Mandalorian asks shrewdly, tilting his head. “You learned to lay hands and practice mind-tricks in the military?”

Okay, that was rude. Still bitter about that intrusion into his subconscious? Why was he so guarded about a handful of memories from childhood?

Also, fuck! Mando knows way too much about you already.

“I usually save the mind tricks for parties,” you say, working hard to maintain that placid smile. “Since most of my patients don’t have a religious prohibition against being intubated.”

This catches him off guard. He didn’t expect you to throw that arrogance back in his face without blinking. You’ve tried to tone down your…everything in his presence to be respectful of his peace. But sometimes, when he pushes, you push right back.

“How’s your hand, by the way?”

“Fine,” he says coolly, flexing his fingers wide before furling them against his palm. “I’ll manage.”

Your smile transforms into a smug grin. So stubborn!

“I’ll give you a topical for the swelling.” And what the hell? Push him a little further. “Can I trust you to tell me if it gets infected?”

Trust. The word hangs in the air between you. It’s at the root of all of this, isn’t it?

Mando nods curtly. Then, his fingers gather into a fist. He raises his hand to hold it over his heart. “I am thankful for your help. I would have lost my honor or my life on Dorumaa without you,” he says, sounding humbled. “Do not think me ungrateful.”

Flustered, your ears grow warm. That’s not…You’re not so proud that you have to keep holding this over his head. A healer dedicates their skill regardless of whether the patient is grateful.

“Well, I’m just glad I could keep you…” you raise both hands helplessly, searching for the right word. “Intact.”

Ugh! Why did that sound weirdly sexual?

“We carried shock blasters in the war,” you add quickly in an attempt to change the subject. “Medics are non-combatants, so defensive weapons only.”

“Did that protect you from being targeted?” he asks skeptically.

“You mean, did the Empire adhere to the Old Republic’s rules of war?” you snort, shaking your head. “No. Neither did the Rebels. There were commanders I served under who took no prisoners and killed every Imp that tried to surrender.”

His helmet tilts curiously again. You’ve come to appreciate that Mando communicated more in gestures than words.

“The concept of ‘war crimes’ is a just fantasy made up by bureaucrats who tell themselves it’s possible to wage violence without committing atrocities. We all have to draw our own lines.”

You startle, catching yourself. Are you really ranting about political ethics in your underwear?

“Sorry,” you murmur awkwardly. “I just meant…that didn’t matter to me on the battlefield. I knew the risk. A medic’s duty is to safeguard life above all else. We do not take up arms except to protect our patients. And that was my line. I would’ve died rather than betray that oath.”

Kriffing hell! What a fucking pronouncement to make to a man you hardly know while your nipples poke through your shirt! His shirt, actually. Broad in the shoulders and surprisingly soft.

A long pause ensues while he presumably tries to assess the stability of your mental health, and just when you’re about to blurt out reassurances that you completed all of your mandated therapy after active duty, you hear him take in a deep breath.

“This is the Way,” the Mandalorian offers in understanding, his voice sounding strong and resolute. The helmet reveals nothing, but you feel his gaze weighing you.

It hadn’t struck you until now—that while on the surface your personalities are nothing alike, there might be deeper currents you shared with this stoic warrior.

No one would describe you as pious. Your prayers are infrequent and self-interested. You’d all but abandoned the orthodoxy beaten into you by the Consortium. Mando might be devout. There was little reverence for the divine left in your heart.

And yet, you knew what it meant to eke out survival while holding yourself to a higher principle when cynicism and cruelty were better, and more often rewarded.

“Sorry,” you repeat, embarrassed, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “That was a very…complicated answer to your straightforward question. Yes, I’m comfortable handling a blaster.”

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

The Healer was…interesting.

Mando had suspected something sharper was hiding beneath her soft smiles. There were lines around Thulani’s mouth that had nothing to do with laughter. She clenched her jaw. The cuticles surrounding each of her delicately shaped fingernails were chewed bloody.

Just days ago, she’d had a nightmare after falling asleep sitting upright in the cockpit. She whimpered and cried out. But he’d warned Nito against waking her—and now he was glad of it. Waking soldiers from their nightmares was a good way to end up stabbed. It hadn’t escaped Mando’s notice that she’d taken to carrying around a screwdriver in her pants pocket.

Instead, the bounty hunter had traced the heel of his thumb over her cheek, desperate to suppress the surge of pride swelling in his chest when his touch seemed to soothe her.

Mobile infantry? She’d survived the fucking meat grinder.

The Mandalorian felt something ease in his chest. A tension he hadn’t noticed before. It pained him to see her so haunted, but, gods in heaven, it was a relief to know that she understood? That they could understand each other.

When the widow on Sorgan had asked him to stay, he thought briefly, Maybe in another life I would have been happy here?

Except, there was no other life. Just this one. The one in which he was Mandalorian, trained for a single purpose—to be a warrior and honed into a weapon. Omera had said, ‘You can pack all this away in case there’s ever trouble…’ as though the stain of bloodshed could be removed as easily as his armor. Omera believed it was that easy.

Thulani had a good heart. He felt certain of that. If she had found a way to survive the brutality of war with her compassion—survived Black Sun without sacrificing her empathy—perhaps she could teach him how. The Healer knew what he was and had come with him anyway. She wanted to trust him. That gave him hope.

Mando cleared his throat, “The only ion blaster I have is the C-13 rifle.” He lifted the weapon from its mount inside the locker to offer it to her. “There’s a bit of a delay in the rate of fire while the ions reverse polarity in the chamber—”

She took the rifle from his grip and pulled the magazine free of the breech to inspect the wear on the plasma cartridge.

“Yeah, I’ve carried a VES-700. Pulse rifles have the same issue with the filament coil. What’s the range on the scope?”

“It’s sighted to six hundred, but I wouldn’t recommend shooting anything beyond four.”

The Healer nestled the rifle against her shoulder and peered through the scope. He fought the urge to wrap his arms around her to adjust her grip. She was holding the stock a little too tight. Her frame was a bit rigid. The recoil would force her back on her heel.

But Mando suppressed the impulse since he’d felt himself grow half-hard, watching her thrust the cartridge back into the rifle well, the hem of her shirt creeping higher up her thighs.

She had great thighs. He wondered vaguely what it might feel like to be pinned underneath them. Then, he recalled that he had—she’d straddled his waist and stabbed him between the ribs with a chest tube. The memory just made him that much harder.

The Mandalorian did not correct her grip. Rather, he asked, “I thought the Republic banned the VES series?”

The wicked grin that spread across her beautiful face when she ducked out from behind the scope sent another throbbing jolt through his cock.

“They sure did,” she said, and he could see from the dip of her brow that the Healer had winked at him.

Interesting.

Did Miraluka wink? Or peer through rifle scopes?

They were sightless creatures with unnatural powers that granted them vision despite having no eyes. That did not account for her behavior. Though admittedly, she had never spoken to him about her people.

Who had told him she was Miraluka? Ingtar? Maybe the old man was mistaken, or else Mando had misunderstood him. It had been hard to concentrate on much of anything beyond the high-pitched ringing in his ears after he’d been hit with those sonic charges. When Ingtar had dragged him through the Odbori district’s narrow streets with promises that the mobster knew one healer—the only one—who could save a Mandalorian, he’d barely been conscious.

But if she wasn’t Miraluka, why did Thulani never remove her visor?

The simplest solution would be to ask her, and yet…he thought about how frightened she’d been moments ago. Mando didn’t want her to feel she owed him an answer. Many soldiers joined the Rebellion to avenge the deaths of their families and homeworlds.

He recalled what she had said on Dorumaa, after he pulled her out from the rubble of her apartment. “Nothing’s here for me anymore…but I don’t want to be alone.” At the time, her honest vulnerability had amazed him. Perhaps there were no people for her to return to?

The Mandalorian didn’t like to speak about the family he’d lost on Aq Vetina either.

He’d let it pass for now. The Healer hadn’t lied to him—she was only telling him as much as she wanted him to know. Maybe that would change once he earned her trust. He wanted her to trust him.

“What about the grenade launcher?”

Mando’s brows furrowed underneath the helmet. “Are you planning a siege?”

“Come on,” she said teasingly. “You started this.”

That surprised him to a huff of laughter. Which, he realized, happened more often these past few days. She had a disarming sense of humor.

“It can hold up to four rounds,” the Mandalorian secured the stock under his arm to show her the loading slot. “You’ll feel the click against your thumb once the charge has made it past the magazine catch. Pump to load the chamber.”

She took the launcher and weighed it. “It’s heavier than I expected.”

“Yeah, and it’s going to knock you back on your ass.”

She arched an eyebrow, and Mando cleared his throat, thinking that, as a rule, he should try to avoid any further mention of her ass.

But she continued to smile up at him with that wicked grin. “Thanks for the warning. I’ll be sure to brace myself.”

His cock throbbed. Did she mean for that to sound so suggestive?

“What about this one?”

Eventually, they made their way through the locker’s inventory. She had practical questions about ammunition, field conditions, that sort of thing. But she also asked about the history behind each weapon and his connection to it.

So he told her about the DDC Defender that had saved his life on Corellia. And the modified E-11 carbine blaster he’d pulled off the body of his quarry—after they’d shot him in the gut with it. The Mandalorian wasn’t good at telling stories, but the Healer proved to be an animated listener, nodding in encouragement, laughing or gasping in reaction.

And she told him some of her stories from the war. The standard issue BlasTech rifles that jammed with frost when she was stationed on Hoth. Starting each mission by tearing off the badges from her med-pack because Trooper telescopes could pick up the insignia from over a kilometer away.

It was more than he’d spoken in months. Not since Sorgan.

Like most people, Nito had immediately grown frustrated with the bounty hunter’s refusal to carry a conversation. Mando’s new mechanic made it all of two days before giving up on comradery, while the Child seemed perfectly content with his habitual silence.

Thulani, it seemed, had the wherewithal to coax him.

“The Westars can be set to stun,” the Mandalorian said, pointing to a pair of blasters. “But I’ll see if I can get a hold of an ion pistol for you.”

She looked up at that, and he realized he’d gotten ahead of himself. Mando shook his head. Even if she had nowhere else to go, that didn’t mean she intended to stay.

Did he want her to stay?

“Have you thought any more about where you’ll go next?” he asked. “I should have enough to refuel the Crest after this job. Or we can head to Eldin Station. You should be able to catch civilian transport from there.”

“I…” she trailed off. For some reason, she appeared more afraid of his question than she had getting caught in her underwear.

“There’s a place for you here,” Mando said hastily and inwardly cringed. He needn’t sound so eager. “You don’t have to decide right now.”

“No, I don’t want to be…”

Be what? A burden? An imposition? She was none of those things.

“In fact,” he interrupted her, seized by sudden inspiration. “I’d like to hire your services.”

“My…services?”

Farrik! I’m already ruining this. “Nito will be with me tomorrow, so I need someone to watch the kid.”

She considered his request with more earnestness than he’d expected. “I should warn you that being a woman doesn’t mean I’m innately qualified for childcare.”

Okay, he deserved that.

“You think I am?” Mando shot back, and was delighted to hear her laugh. She enjoyed his teasing.

The bounty hunter placed both hands on his hips. “The kid likes you. That’s all the qualification I need.”

Which was true. Both Nito and the Child seemed…happy to have her on board the ship. She was affectionate and playful with them in a way he couldn’t be. This morning, he found her curled up with them in Nito’s hammock, watching videos on her datapad.

“What matters is that he’s safe.”

“I’m the youngest of my cousins and siblings,” Thulani shrugged. “So I’m not exactly sure how to keep a toddler entertained. But I can promise to keep him safe.”

“Don’t worry about that,” said the Mandalorian, smiling under his Beskar. “I have a feeling he’ll keep you occupied.”

She stared at him. He couldn’t see her eyes—if she had any—but he felt her gaze boring into him, as though if she looked at the black view plate long enough, the Healer might glimpse his soul.

“Okay,” she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. Perhaps she had only just realized how prominently her nipples showed. “Then I–uh—guess I’d better get some sleep while I can.”

Mando had never wished anyone a ‘goodnight’ in his life, so he simply nodded and pulled the locker door open just wide enough to shield her from view as she crept back inside the sleeping compartment.

He knew he should wait for the whining pitch of the door seal before he turned his head. His peripheral vision was shit behind the helmet. Yet, his gaze drifted upward to peer between the gap in the hinges to see…Thulani, crawling over the bedroll on her hands and knees, and the way her back dipped, arching her hips to display that heart-shaped ass.

Fuck! His head snapped down. Fuck, why is it so hot? Mando could feel a flush creeping up his neck. Am I blushing? Fucking ridiculous. Nearly forty, and he was acting like a lovesick teenager.

It’s just that it had been sooo long since he’d wanted a woman this badly.

It felt like some trick of Hod Ha'ran—a punishment—that after years of starvation, the one woman he wanted, is too dangerous to touch.

Of course, there was the issue of honor. The Mandalorian knew it was shameful to lust after a woman under his care. How could Thulani deny him when the Razor Crest was her only sanctuary in the galaxy? He did not want her to yield to him out of fear or obligation.

But honor wasn’t the only reason he felt tormented. Even if the Healer shared his same desires, followed Mando up the ladder, climbed into the cockpit, and onto his lap…he couldn’t risk the memories she might see.

No. There was no future in which he could have her.

After this job, the Mandalorian would pay Thulani enough to make her own way. Hiring her was a good pretext. That way, she owed him nothing. That, plus the money she’d packed? Hell, there would be enough for her to buy a ship.

No. The Healer would leave, and life on board the Crest would return to its silent rhythm.

It seemed impossible that she would want to stay. And if she did? If she stayed…if she needed his protection? Mando would uphold her honor, as she had upheld his Creed. He would bury these feelings, and eventually, they would fade.

They had to. There was no future in which he could have her.

____________

To be continued...

Part 2 - Coming Soon!

#din djarin smut #mandalorian fanfic #mando fanfiction #star wars smut #mandalorian smut #mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #mandalorian oc

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