#he's a gremlin. no tree will survive with him around

[linabirb]

what if i sob.. what if i cry... /pos

[miabebe]

Camp Seventeen: Prologue

Seventeen as Greek Demigods Series

Pairing - Reader x ot13 (Yes, you read that right, I am insane and you are allowed to scream at me)

Word count - 2.7k

Genre - Greek Demigod AU! We’ve mainly got crack cause all of them are idiots, and obviously smut because they are thirteen lonely, horny men afterall (aka reverse harem) also throwing in some fluff and angst as well because I gotta let emotions run high for plot sake :)

A/n - Hello hello, this is a new seventeen series I am starting and boy oh boy is it gonna be a wild ride! A special thanks to @okiedokrie @whipped-for-kpop-fics @ourdawnishotterthanourday @multi-kpop-fanfics for all their amazing help and bearing with me through the discussions for this, I’m so grateful to you guys :)

I will have a taglist for this so please comment/ send an ask on this post to be added!

“Over here!”

Wincing, you looked up from the disgusting heap of mud your foot had neatly landed in, ignoring the way your little piglet was ecstatically rolling in the same filth.

The man before you looked equally disturbed as he walked over, pulling out a bottle of water apparently from up his ass because you didn’t remember him holding it a second ago.

Sighing a thank you, you took it, emptying it onto your boots before grabbing your gremlin of a pet from its happy place, resulting in a series of loud, incessant whining.

In all that noise, you heard your shoe savior take your name with a voice that was as pretty as him.

“I’m Jisoo.” He put out his hand. “You can call me Joshua.”

You nodded, unable to shake his hand thanks to the problem trashing in your arms earning Joshua’s amusement.

“And who is this?”

“Natalie.” You muttered as he raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Natalie Porkman.”

Joshua burst out laughing, looking away as he covered up a snort, shoulders shaking. You smiled, truly taking in his beautiful features for the first time. Cute.

“This way.” He pointed at absolutely nothing yet you followed this complete stranger, survival skills be damned. “We’ve got a half mile trek ahead of us but it gets a little confusing from here so I thought I’d come pick you up.”

Cute and kind.

You filed it away under ‘to-learn-more-about-when-I-fiigure-out-what-the-fuck-is-going-on-in-my-life.’

The two of you walked side by side, footfall softly echoing in the lush green forest around. Though silence was all you had been craving after the last few days you’ve had, that did not seem like an option since one, Natalie hadn’t stopped whimpering in fifteen minutes and two, Joshua kept glancing at you like you were some sort of ancient artifact.

Not the good kinds.

“What is it?” You said finally, starting a conversation you didn’t want to have. “Never seen a mess of a human before?”

“Never such an old one.” Well, at least you got ancient right. Joshua quickly corrected himself. “I mean I’ve never heard of a demigod surviving undetected in the mortal world for this long.”

Oh but you got ‘human’ wrong. You forgot. Normalcy was never your defining factor but at least now you knew exactly what kind of freak you were.

Almost.

“I wouldn’t call it surviving, more like ‘barely made it’.”

“But you made it.”

“At the cost of what?” You sighed. “Everything is much more complicated now.”

“Don’t worry.” He stopped at a large boulder at the base of an abnormally large tree in the middle of seemingly nowhere. “We’ll all help you.”

“All?”

He nodded, looking at you over his shoulder. “All.”

Your eyes followed his hand as he placed it in the middle of the rock, and after all that you’ve learnt in the last few days, you’re not sure why you were so shocked when it rolled away at his touch. You expected it to lead you to a dark, suspicious cave but a bright light poured out, making you momentarily lose both your vision and your pet who jumped out of your arms and ran into the illuminance, squealing in delight.

“Welcome to Camp Seventeen.”

Joshua grinned, pointing at the scene before him and your jaw dropped in awe.

It was a large opening in the middle of a forest that looked very different from the one you were just trudging through. There were hills on one side, a large lake shimmering far away, fire torches lit everywhere, little cottages scattered here and there, strange symbols topping them all off. Looking at everything curiously, you walked down the cobbled path, only just noticing the two men who were standing at the end of it, both incredibly beautiful. The blonde one was playing with Natalie and the redhead was staring at you with his arms crossed, expression smug.

“Would you look at that, the prodigal babygirl is here at last.”

You frowned, taking an almost immediate dislike despite his pretty, pretty face.

“Jeonghan, play nice.” Joshua muttered, walking over to him.

“Don't patronise me Aphrodite's son, she was supposed to be here at 4-”

“It’s 4:10.”

“-yesterday.” He turned back to you. “You’re a day and 10 minutes late.”

“Well you’re not the one who’s relocating your whole life.” You spat back at him. “I had things to take care of - my dorms, my bills-”

“So much that you missed the meeting with your lawyer.”

“I did ask to reschedule. It’s not my fault he’s an unsympathetic prick.”

“Careful sweetheart.” Jeonghan cocked his head at you. “I’m unforgiving too.”

You stared at him for a whole maddening minute, realizing why his voice seemed so familiar. You had heard him on the phone over the last few days.

“You’re my lawyer.”

“And the best in the city.” Joshua interjected, sensing the rising tension. “Children of Athena tend to be big brained.”

“And hot headed apparently.”

“Natalie says ‘not more than you’.”

All three of you turned to the only other presence there, the man who was carrying your pig, silent as a statue all this while.

“Jun, son of demeter.” Joshua introduced, pulling him ahead. “He’s a natural with anything, well... natural? Mostly plants but he also happens to talk to animals.”

“Domestic ones.” Jun mumbled. “Hansol is better with the wild.”

You greeted him awkwardly, half smiling to be polite and half frowning at the way Natalie was looking up at him with literal heart eyes.

“How did you come across a fledgling?”

“A what now?”

Jun picked your pig up by the arms like a little baby. “She says she’s 10 years old, yet is the size of a toddler. Have you never wondered why your pig never grew?”

“I uh….assumed it was just the kind of breed that didn’t?”

“What an intellectual.” Jeonghan looked at you with faux amazement making you roll your eyes.

Jun, however, still hadn’t met your eye. “Fledglings are creatures of Olympus. Time moves differently there so they don’t really grow like the others in the human world. In that sense, technically, she’s still only a few months old-”

“So you’re telling me this thing, which has lived with me for 10 odd years, is….magical?”

Jun shook his head as Joshua spoke up, clarifying.

“Not magical, that’s a whole different branch of powers and abilities. Your pig is just….not a part of the human world.”

“You betrayer.” You narrowed your eyes at what you thought was your loyal companion. “We were friends. How could I not know?”

Natalie whined sadly in response earning a smile from Jun and of course, yet another snarky comment from Jeonghan. “I don’t speak pig and even I know she said you’re not very bright.”

“Understanding your native language is not particularly intelligent, you swine.” You glared at him, receiving a smirk in response.

“Ten minutes in camp and you’ve already made Jun’s ears red and picked a fight with Han.” You turned to see three men walk up to you, the one in the middle with an amused look and a powerful aura. “You’re gonna fit in quite well Newbie.”

“Seungcheol, son of Zeus and leader of the camp.” Joshua whispered as everyone bowed to him. You imitated them quickly.

“This is Seokmin, Son of Poseidon and Minghao, Son of Ares.” Seungcheol added, pulling out his armor as one of them shot you a cheery smile and the other continued to look at you cynically. “They are our training specialists. Seokmin should help you with your overall fitness and Minghao will train you for combat.”

“C-combat?” You stuttered looking around. “You mean like war?”

“The world of demigods is new to you, don’t try to understand everything in one day.” The Son of Ares sheathed his twin blades behind his back. “Take a few days to adjust to the camp first. You can start training next week.”

You nodded, a little thankful that despite his cold exterior, he seemed to be surprisingly sympathetic of your situation.

“He’s right.” Seokmin chimed. “You should settle here first, not to forget, deal with that lawsuit before you focus on everything else.”

You turned to Jeonghan expecting yet another snarky remark but he looked worried, lost in thought.

When you turned back to Seokmin though, you bit back a scream, your face inches away from a man who appeared soundlessly and seemingly from thin air.

He gave you a cheeky grin with a tilt of the head, “I’m Chan aka Dino, Son of Hermes, Camp cutie, camp hottie and camp leader- ow!”

He rubbed the back of his head vigorously when a small rock hit him with a dull thud. You looked over his shoulder to see Seungcheol aim another one with just a flick of the wrist.

This one Dino skillfully dodged, stepping away from you as Joshua laughed, “Chan is the camp messenger. He’s in charge of all sorts of delivery and transportation.”

“You were the one who picked up my things.” The realisation hit you at last as Dino nodded, pointing at a pile of your stacked bags and trunks beside the entrance.

“Guilty as charged.”

“You were supposed to arrive over an hour ago.” Seokmin narrowed his eyes at the younger man.

“I got held up with some uh distractions.” Chan laughed nervously, scratching the back of his ear. “I didn’t know where to keep her things though, considering you know, she doesn’t have a place yet.”

Seungcheol turned to you to clear your confusion. “Everyone on camp has their own residence but you came on too short a notice so we’re yet to build one of you. We could have housed you in the guest cabin except it was recently damaged in a fight,” He glared at all the boys around him. “So that would not be feasible. Until your own place is not ready you can stay at mine - it is the biggest so you should be comfortable.”

You pursed your lips unsure about his offer. Did you think you would be unsafe in his presence? No absolutely not, the opposite in fact.

You wondered how long you could hold yourself back before unsuspectingly jumping this man and his huge biceps and beefy thighs and manly voice-

“She’s thirsty.”

Taken aback you looked around, searching for the owner of the voice who unnecessarily accurately voiced your thoughts. Instead, you heard the snap of a twig and a low growling sound from the area the forest got more dense. You narrowed your eyes, trying to peer through the overgrown wilderness only to meet a pair of menacing red orbs.

Your adrenaline response barely had the time to kick in before ten, no fifteen, wild hounds ran out of their hiding place towards you, making you scream and hide behind Joshua.

The boys laughed as the dogs circled around you and you gripped onto Joshua’s shoulders terrified.

“Stand back lads.” A silver haired man walked over with a golden haired one beside him, both with a bow and quiver strung over their shoulders. The dogs immediately ran over, aligning themselves in an obedient, straight line behind them.

“Hansol, Son of Artemis and Jihoon, Son of Apollo.” Joshua looked at you over his shoulder. “They are in charge of daytime border patrol. There are all sorts of wild animals out here, hence the hounds, for protection.” As you shuddered, Joshua looked around curiously. “The Son of Hades, is in charge of nighttime patrol. He should be somewhere around here…”

Your eyes widened as the water canteen hanging on Jihoon’s belt flew towards you on its own, making you almost claw Joshua’s arm.

“Wonwoo don’t scare her.” Joshua chastised laughing as you literally see a tall, lean man materialize out of thin air, the canteen in his hand and a smirk on his face. “How long have you been here?”

“The whole time.” He mumbled, handing you the water. “Jihoon said you were thirsty.”

“Not for water.” The blonde man whispered in a way only you could hear, looking entertained at how flushed you were. Did he actually read your mind?

Coming out of Joshua’s shadow, you grabbed the canteen before anyone else noticed, thanking Wonwoo with a hard smile. Tilting your head back you drank up, not noticing how all 10 eyes were intently fixed on you and your throat moving with each gulp. They all took a gulp of their own.

As you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, slowly looking around and noticing everyone’s gaze, the ground below began to shake, fazing no one but you.

Jeonghan pulled you out of the way of what seemed like a large mechanical bull charging towards you with an equally large man perched on top of it. A smaller man arrived right behind, riding a….. A leopard???

“You said you would win.” The muscled man slid off the mechanical creature, patting it. “My baby is faster.”

“I said a cheetah would win. My baby is a tiger.”

“It's a leopard.” You corrected, earning everyone's snickers and the not so threatening stare of its owner.

“It’s a big cat with an identity crisis.” Taking your hand in his, placing a soft kiss at the back of it, the muscle man gave you a fanged smile. “I’m Mingyu, Son of Hephaestus.”

The other man raised his hand. “Soonyoung, Son of Dionysis and that-” He turned to yet another one who was running over, looking frazzled.

“Seungkwan, Son of Hera, owner of a peacock that has yet again disappeared.” He bent over, grabbing his waist, panting and out of breath. “I don’t get why she keeps running away.”

“Maybe because you keep calling him a she.” Minghao nonchalantly glanced at his neatly filed nails.

“I can’t-” Seungkwan ran his fingers through his head, annoyed. “It’s confusing okay, who the fuck named him Patricia then?”

Behind you Jeonghan giggled.

“You coagulation of human evil,” Seungkwan threw his shoe, missing the target. “Now she- He won’t respond to any other name!”

The boys roared with laughter as Seungkwan unsuccessfully chased Jeonghan around, hands flailing everywhere.

Seungcheol walked over to you amidst all the mess, shooting you an understanding smile. “Your life has just undergone a major change, I get that it is intimidating but don’t worry. All thirteen of us are here to help you get through this.”

You nodded slowly, looking around at the boys, doing a quick, confirmatory headcount. “So there’s only thirteen of you?”

And why were all of them so gorgeous??

“Yeah, only.” Seungcheol chuckled, “Trust me thirteen is more than enough, I’ve got to run a very tight ship here.”

“I just assumed there would be seventeen people since, you know, Camp Seventeen.”

“The Oracle apparently told Woozi to name us Camp Seventeen.” He shrugged. “Not sure why.”

You hummed, as all of them gradually stopped behaving like toddlers and turned their attention to you.

“Wait,” The realization slowly dawned upon you. Actually, it hit you like a brick. “You’re all men.”

Seungcheol nodded carefully, like he didn’t know where you were going with this.

“Am I….Am I the only girl in the camp?”

Soft mutters went around as Seungcheol cleared his throat. “Yes and I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable but unfortunately, it was not a choice.”

“It’s not common for a girl to be assigned to an all boys camp,” Joshua stepped up. “But I believe since Jeonghan and Wonwoo are working on the lawsuit that landed you here, the authorities of Olympus must have thought it is better for you to be here.”

“But it’s not permanent.” Seungcheol added. “You can choose to change camps after Quest Season if you wish-”

“What is Quest season?”

Jeonghan let out a loud sigh. “You’ve been here for what, ten minutes? Don't overwork your brain. The world of demigods is complex, you’ll learn everything with time.”

“He’s right.” Seokmin leaned against the tree near him. “Why don’t we first move your things to Seungcheol’s cabin? We’ll let you get settled, then Joshua can show you around camp, walk you through the rules and assign a duty-”

“Except.” Soonyoung looked at you from bottom to top, like he was assessing you. “What kind of duty?”

“Exactly.” Mingyu threw his arm around his friend, his expression matching. “Daughter of Hestia, Goddess of Hearth and Home, what would you be good for in this camp?”

Minghao hummed, walking up to you, bending to meet your eyelevel. “Well, what can a woman be good for in a camp of thirteen men?”

A/n - next will be a detailed post about each member, their background and powers so it's less confusing for those who aren't so familiar with Greek mythology and the series will start after that so stay tuned!

[bumblingapocalypse]

Morning Routine

The usual morning routine of the Sumdac Household during the apocalypse.

Warning: Somewhat Morbid talk about decapitated heads.

======== Bumbling-Apocalypse ===============

Sari yawned, rubbing her face as she exited her room, her alarm having woken her up. She could already hear Bee going around in the kitchen and smell breakfast already cooked, her first destination for the morning.

"Morning Honeybee." Her brother called out as she made her way towards the table, setting down a plate of eggs, cooked vegetables and a glass of milk. "Sleep alright?"

"Mhm, very warm. Didn't feel cold at all." Sari yawned again, stretching her arms for a moment before she finally noticed a somewhat new addition to the kitchen counter. "Oh, morning, Meggy!" She greeted the disembodied head.

Was it weird that her brother had the head of another of his species around? Kind of, but honestly, Meggy's been around just as long Bumblebee so it made him family.

The head said nothing, because it was just a head. Sometimes though, Sari thought he was watching her and Bee. "Are you cleaning your room again?" She asked before digging into breakfast, that was one the common reasons as to why Meggy would be out of Bee's room.

The yellow alien hummed, "Yeah, I've put it off long enough. Dust has been gathering on Meg's head so he's been cranky about it." He gave the head an amused look, again, the head said nothing. The bot snorted, reaching out to pat Meggy's head. "I always tend to forget a bit more often when it's winter Megs, too busy trying to survive and take care of our lil' gremlin!"

"Hey!" Sari complained, pouting at him and Meggy. "Meggy, Bee's being mean again!"

Bee laughs and Sari beams at the sound, winter has always been Bee's worse season. He's more quiet, less outgoing, a lot more serious.

Sari knows it's not the most sane thing for her and Bee to treat the head as if he were still alive, but he was one of Bee's people. Even if he was a bad guy once, according to her big brother. She wondered sometimes, on why he would keep Meggy around if he was so horrible but then she remembers that Meggy was one of the only things that Bee had of his home.

Sometimes, during the night when she's awake and has to get a drink or go to the bathroom. She hears Bee talking to Meggy through the door, she doesn't know what Bee talks to him about most times.

"Hey Megatron, do you think I'll end up like you someday? Just a fraggin' head? Morbid thing to ask I know, but... It's a thought that I keep having sometimes... I just hope it's Sari that keeps my head around. Who knows, maybe she'll keep your ugly mug too, hah. We could even share a shelf! Wouldn't that be something?"

Sari didn't try to eavesdrop on Bee again after that. The thought of Bee ending up like Meggy is... something she doesn't want to ever think about. At all.

After breakfast, she hops down from her chair. "I'm done! And! I finished my vegetables." She replied smugly.

"Oh yeah? Even the broccoli?" Bee questioned with a small smile.

Sari made a face before reluctantly nodding, "Yeah, even those gross mini-trees." She grumbled but preened when Bee's hand settled on her head- the only time she didn't really mind having Bee ruffle her hair was in the mornings before she tied it to her usual pigtails.

"Good! It's Monday today, if the snow isn't that troublesome, I'll take you to the settlement today after I clean my room. Alright Honeybee?"

"Yes!" Sari pumped her arms in glee, "Okay! I'm gonna go shower now!" She reached her arms up so Bee could lift her up close to his face. Sari pecked his cheek and smiled at Bee, waiting, her brother snorted before adjusting so she was facing Meggy. "Have a nice morning Meggy!" She pecked his cheek too, giggling as Bee set her down.

She gave Bee an expectant look and Bee rolled his eyes in familiar exasperation, leaning over to give Meggy a peck of his own. A habit she's made him do ever since she was young. Sari beamed before going off towards the bathroom.

Sari looked back once to see Bee gathering her finished plate and utensils to put in the sink, and she swore Meggy's eyes were glowing red for a moment. She blinked and the glow was gone. Shaking her head, she focused on other things; like finishing her morning routine.

============ Bumbling-Apocalypse =============

"Such a gremlin that girl." The mini-bot complained with no heat, a smile on his derma as he started washing the dishes. It was a very domestic thing to do for an Autobot. Then again, the mini-bot was a maintenance worker, or once was one. "Making me kiss the Decepticon Leader's cheek, what a little manipulator hm? No bot would ever believe it."

Indeed, no bot would. Yet it happened, but there were no other bots around at all.

Bumblebee leaned against the sink, venting heavily. "44 years Megs. It's been 44 years. That's- that's short for our us Cybertronians I know but... I guess I'm so used to thinking of it in human terms. Still haven't found a sign of my team. And with that weird field all around the planet, no signal could ever hope to reach Cybertron of all places... I'm really starting to think I'm gonna die here, alone." He whispers that last part to himself.

Unacceptable

Bumblebee shook his helm, "Ugh, no, shouldn't think that way. It's only been 44 years. Just- half a vorn. I've made it this far. 'Sides! It's too early to think such depressing thoughts, right Megs?" He glanced over to the head, staying silent for a moment as if to hear his reply. There was none, but the mini-bot nodded anyway. "Right. Okay! Chores first, I'll go clean my room now. Dust off your shelf so you can get back there." Absentmindedly, he reached out to pat Megatron's faceplate before he left.

Oblivious to the way the decapitated helm's optics flickered for a moment, following his movement before offlining.

One day...

[Prev]

[Next]

[xxnomadsxx]

Nomads AU! Branch’s second in command..look I haven’t finished a drawing for them yet ….BUT it’s coming

Originally I wasn’t gonna have them in the story. They were just used to be a reason for why Branch was in the feral troll village, but then I got the idea for a brother rivalry between them and Brozone and I was like “OH! I have to do that!!!!!” (I am so sorry I really wanted to make an Oc please don’t unfollow 😭)

Branch’s Second in command is basically a replacement brother? (no one sure what gender they are? So Branch just calls him his brother?with a question mark) Honestly, the relationship is like SUPER toxic, like I’m talking about his second command has accidentally tried to eat him on a couple of occasions and has gotten him hurt multiple times on accident. (They’re also a huge reason on why is kind of more paranoid and aggressive troll that he is today) also they occasionally just bite Branch, maybe on the arm, leg, or just nibbling on his hair (I promise they won’t eat Branch they just like biting stuff) the biting freaks Branch out a lot (poor guys trauma won’t ever leave 😔)

What they look like is basically a description I gave of the feral (trolls?) a while back claws, tail, sharp teeth, messy looking, slitted eyes, and pointy ears the second in command/brother? wears half a cloak that only really covers one of their sides while also having the most stitched together outfit known to anyone in the village, arms and legs basically covered in bandages and scars surprisingly their face is scar free, their hair is similar to Bruce’s with how it cascades down his back, The only difference is it’s way messier and pitch black sometimes say to Branch how it makes them look more like family (which is cute in my opinion) They have shark teeth and sort of just has this look on there face of “I will bite you if you get close to me and if you’re not close to me, I will still bite you.” Their hair has some branches and leaves in it, but still pretty clean. Sometimes they lay on the ground and just pretend to be a carpet (I mean with how much hair they have it just completely covers their body) people have walked over them on accident before.

The second in command/brother? Doesn’t really have a name. Everyone just calls them Thing and that just became its name. Thing is maybe just really bad for Branch’s mental state, but they genuinely do really care for him. I mean the whole reason Branch is here is because Thing got one look at them and said “new little brother” and sorta just kinda adopted him.

Thing is is like the most insane feral (troll ?)(whenever they do something their motives behind it is either baby brother or feed there is an in between ground of just both) Thing is the head of the militia, and surprisingly is the most trusted with the village, due to their survival instinct/ tactics, and overall mindset of protection they’re kind of dumb though (so branch doesn’t really leave him in charge a lot for long periods of time but still trusts them over anyone else)

Random facts Thing owns a mug that says best big brother? on it, and it is like his most prize possession(and only possession) They once tried to eat a troll egg. Their excuse was omelette.(the egg was fine don’t worry) they are basically the most feral feral troll, (which is honestly really hard to do so claps for him I guess) He has tried to eat Creek on multiple occasions, the only reason he stopped is because they now have some weird deal going on (Creek just feed him bits of his hair.) They constantly run on all fours like a gremlin usually having their claws out just to climb trees and over buildings around the village. The trolls and feral(trolls?) just sort of got used to them and they’re weird freaky antics (they’re surprisingly really well respected and a lot of people quite like them… they just get super scared of them) As a kid they basically saw Branch as a pet until after like a week they were like “OK this is my baby brother now.” Similar to how trolls put their babies in their hair they sometimes just put Branch in their hair (Which Branch has gotten used to he just doesn’t mind it as much anymore but still hates it.) Nonetheless, no one is quite sure how old they are or where they came from in the village they just sort of been running around for years and then one day just showed up with a troll.

Thing can speak! Most of the time they prefer to just make weird animal noises or hiss and growl. They really only speak to Branch and anyone who has a genuine concern or anything (I mean he still has to be a good second in command) and even when they do speak it’s always in this raspy sounds like it hasn’t been used in like weeks voice. Has the most broken English ever they also speak in 3rd person quite a bit. (They can’t read and just ask a bajillion questions to anyone about anything or just run their own “tests” on stuff to see how it works)

I’m going to give it to you straight, the only reason Thing exists is so I can have a brother rivalry between them and Brozone I mean Branch’s biological brothers who he loved very much as a kid vs the creature who cared and raised him for 20 years after they left (The scenarios would be amazing!!! 🤩)

Branch and Thing have a very good relationship, Branch really loves them since Thing hasn’t abandoned him like everyone else and raised him with love (never mind how toxic of a home it was and still is)

[gwen-ever]

Chapter 2: Cry me a river

HELLOOOOO, my favorite band of chaos gremlins! 💖 Guess what? We’ve got NEW CONTENT! Yes, finally, the wait is over—this chapter has some juicy new info about the oh-so-complicated past between Geira and Thorin. 🎉And oh, we’re not stopping there! Let me throw some questions your way (because I love torturing you all with mysteries): 1️⃣ What do you think the tattoo means? Is it just some cool dwarven ink, or is there something deeper at play? 2️⃣ What about the bracelet? Is it just a shiny trinket, or does it hold secrets that could change everything? 3️⃣ And seriously, what could Balin have done to make Geira hate him with the fire of a thousand dragons? 🐉🔥 Was it something petty, or is there a major betrayal lurking in their history? I NEED to hear your wild theories, folks, because honestly, your guesses fuel my creativity (and my endless need for drama)!Now, go on, dive in, and let me know what you think—your comments give me life! 💬✨

Summary: When Smaug arrived, he not only killed the dwarves of Erebor, but he also destroyed the lives of the few who survived… whether he did it on purpose or not.After a hundred years, a part of Thorin’s past will come back to haunt him in the form of a dwarf who last knocks on the door of Bilbo Baggins’ house, resurrecting old grudges and the pain of a life no one wants to talk about. Geira, daughter of Geiri, is anything but an open book, an exiled who no one wants around, a warrior who has no one to fight for, but only an oath she must fulfil.

Relationships: Thorin x FemaleOC Rating: M Warnings: none. AO3 LINK: HERE

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The following days seemed to mirror the Company’s gloom: the relentless sky sent forth its dark grey clouds heavy with rain. Even the trees' canopies failed to shield them, allowing raindrops to seep through, drenching them despite the hoods of their cloaks.

Thorin hadn’t glanced at her even once, nor had he spoken to her since that evening. Bilbo always rode beside her, but aside from exchanging a few simple words, he remained silent, sneezing loudly or muttering unpleasant remarks about the rain or Gandalf. The wizard was perhaps the only one undeterred, continuing to ride and humming occasionally.

It didn’t take long for her to realise that their argument hadn’t just torn her own soul apart but had also wounded the entire Company. In the end, her aunt had been right about one thing when it came to the line of Durin:

"A kingdom reflects its king."

And at that moment, Thorin's kingdom was this Company. Like it or not, her presence and very existence had exacerbated the oppressive silences that had hung over her from the start.

Surprisingly, the rain vanished suddenly by mid-morning, replaced by a clear sky devoid of even a wisp of cloud. And as she had expected, the collective gloom of those days was swept away by the song of a handful ofswallows and the chirping of distant crickets under the warm spring sun.

"Stop, wait!" Thorin commanded loudly, raising his hand sharply and tugging Minty’s reins.

The dark mare reared onto her hind legs.

Geira pulled her reins and halted instantly, as did the rest of the line, taken aback by the sudden order. The only one who failed to stop—and she wasn’t surprised—was Dwalin.

The warrior had been riding directly behind her, but with a couple of nudges to his pony, he moved up alongside his leader as usual, positioning himself right at his side.

"What’s wrong?" Dwalin asked bluntly, leaning toward Thorin.

Puzzled, Geira turned her head to peer past the cluster of dwarves ahead. They were near the edge of the forest, just before a valley filled with small hills and thickets. Yet strangely, instead of leading them out, Thorin had come to a complete halt and remained silent.

A glance at the sinking hooves of Thorin’s pony in the mud was all she needed to understand the problem—and why they had stopped.

"A marsh. And it’s raining," she muttered to herself, a growing unease creeping over her.

Bad news.

Perhaps her words carried clearly, for around her arose grunts and sighs, along with a few accusing glances directed at her as the bearer of unwelcome news.

"You're joking, right?" Bombur sighed heavily from behind her, murmuring with a full mouth.

Gandalf, riding beside her, slightly turned his horse to look at the dwarf.

"I fear not, Master Dwarf... and this is not to our advantage, particularly given the hour," he murmured, casting an enigmatic glance toward the sun. She understood instantly, looking up.

It was low—too low. Sunset was approaching, and they could not stop here for the night.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Bilbo draw closer, examining the expanse of mud and grass.

"What do you mean by ‘marsh’?" Bilbo asked, perplexed.

"It means we can’t proceed without risking the ponies drowning in the muck and losing our damned supplies in this swamp, Master Hobbit," Dwalin snapped, his stony face turning toward the end of the line.

"Oh no, no, no, no!" Dori cried out, his voice growing increasingly shrill, drawing her attention.

The dwarf gently tugged the reins of his dragging pony and shook his head, much to the bafflement of his younger brothers. "I’ve endured four days of rain, six days of riding, but this—I will not. I am not about to crawl through a filthy, stinking swamp. You’ll have to drag me!"

Gloin squinted, his mouth drawing into a firm line beneath his red beard. “As if we’ve got any other choice, Dori,” the dwarf retorted sternly.

“My alternative is to turn back and find a way around. There’s got to be some route that avoids this hellhole of mud and filth!”

“And add miles and miles to our journey? Brilliant idea, brother,” Nori said sharply from his side.

“Any other bright ideas?” Bofur chimed in with a wry grin, his accent lilting as he leaned forward on his pony. “Or are ya just lookin’ to moan us all to death, eh?”

Quickly, another round of bickering broke out over what should or shouldn’t be done.

Geira, however, couldn’t tear her gaze away from Rosalie’s hooves, noticing how short her legs seemed compared to Gandalf’s horse. Crossing the marsh would be a risk—not just for them but for the ponies as well. Yet turning back wasn’t an option. There simply wasn’t enough time.

The voices around her grew louder, overlapping and drowning out the cheerful chirping of birds. Even Bilbo attempted to chime in, stammering something incoherent amidst the racket. But then, a low growl cut through the noise.

“Enough! Silence!” Thorin roared, his eyes flashing as he glared at the Company. Instantly, all voices ceased, and every wide-eyed gaze turned toward him, including hers. Thorin gestured sharply toward Dwalin at the back of the line.

“Dwalin, move to the rear and ensure everyone stays in position! Fili, Kili—take the centre and do the same,” he barked, glancing at the two brothers before shifting his gaze to her.

Geira held her breath but met his eyes squarely, refusing to be intimidated. Thorin’s lips parted slightly as if he were about to give her an order, but he quickly closed them and turned away, ignoring her entirely as he had for days.

She bit her lip. If he wanted to pretend she didn’t exist, he was free to do so.

Gently, she tugged Rosalie’s reins and shifted into the newly ordered formation. Cautiously, she positioned herself in perfect alignment, ahead of Fili and Gloin, and preceded by Balin, Bilbo, Gandalf, and Thorin, forming a straight column where everyone would be covered.

“I don’t like this at all,” she heard Bilbo mutter with a resigned sigh.

“Nor do I, lad,” Balin replied unexpectedly.

Cautiously, they began trudging around the edge of the dark mire. As soon as the ponies stepped in, the muck rose to their calves, accompanied by a foul stench of mud, leaves, and rotting wood.

A shiver of disgust ran down Geira’s spine, but she bit her lip to keep still, while the others made no attempt to hide their revulsion. Groans, coughs, and colourful expletives echoed as each struggled with the foul conditions.

The brown mud clung to her hands; leaves, twigs, and tiny insects stuck to her clothes, crawling or buzzing as they went.

“Keep the ponies’ noses up. Don’t let them lower their heads into the mud,” Thorin ordered, marching ahead without looking back.

Geira leaned down, pulling Rosalie’s reins and placing a firm hand beneath her neck to steady her. The pony was far from pleased, shaking her head irritably.

 “Stay still, that’s it… just a bit longer,” she murmured into the animal’s ear, stroking its neck soothingly.

Midway along the edge of the marsh, the mud had climbed nearly to their knees, and the ponies were quickly growing restless, nickering and pausing intermittently.

“By Durin’s beard…” Gloin grumbled irritably ahead of her when Bungo , Gloin’s pony, came to an abrupt halt in the middle of the line, blocking everyone behind him.

The pony whinnied loudly as Gloin tried to coax him forward with a tug, only for Bungo to shake his head stubbornly.

“Gloin…” Balin tried to interject, but the elder dwarf’s voice was drowned out by another loud groan.

“Why won’t you move, Bungo?” Gloin demanded insistently, giving the reins another sharp tug—harder this time.

The pony neighed again, thrashing more violently, clearly confused and frightened by its inability to move.

“If he keeps struggling, he’ll get stuck!” Geira shouted, raising her voice above the increasingly agitated cries of the pony.

But Gloin persisted, yanking the reins again. At that moment, Bungo reared, kicking his hind legs dangerously close to Rosalie, who began to panic in turn. The chain reaction spread quickly, and soon all the ponies were jittery and frightened, starting to move on their own.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips as Rosalie jerked forward so hard that the reins scraped painfully against the buckles of her bracer, reopening a freshly healed wound.

Dwalin growled loudly, wrestling to calm Myrtle with visible difficulty. “Hold still, you stubborn beast!” he barked impatiently at Gloin, whose actions were making matters worse.

“Mr Gandalf, do something!” Dori called out anxiously.

The wizard remained unruffled, murmuring something to his horse to settle it, sparing only a brief glance at Dori as he lifted his staff slightly to keep his own steed steady.

If this continued, they’d all sink into the mud, losing their supplies and nearly all hope of success.

Without thinking—or weighing the consequences—Geira acted: she leapt off Rosalie and waded into the swamp, sinking nearly to her neck in the filthy mire under Bilbo’s astonished gaze.

She held her breath as the stench reached her nose, a shiver of disgust running through her from head to toe.

“Gloin, Fili, dismount the ponies!” she ordered sharply, moving towards Gloin’s pony and throwing a glance at the prince. He looked at her in confusion but followed suit, plunging into the mud with a horrified expression.

Gloin’s pony bucked even more stubbornly at its rider’s insistence, nearly landing a hoofed kick square in her chest.

“I don’t take orders from you!” Gloin roared, refusing to spare her even a glance.

“I’m not giving you orders—I’m trying to help!” she shot back firmly, trying to grab the pony’s reins and keep it steady.

“If you want me off this pony, you’ll have to pull me down yourself!”

“If you don’t get off that pony, Gloin son of Gróin, the swamp will swallow us whole!” she pressed, growing weary, too weary even to check her acid tone.

For once, they had to listen to her!

The pony, distressed by their bickering, started to move in panick nearly unseating Gloin. Her attempts to grab hold of the pony’s halter became increasingly futile as she wrestled with its thrashing.

With a deep sigh and an even deeper effort, she silently sent a prayer—a damned prayer for help and a blessing to the only one who might knock sense into Gloin. Still trying to calm the pony with her hands, she cast a pleading look towards Thorin, who stood watching impassively. His cold gaze shifted between her and the pony without offering a word or command.

 If they waited for his direction longer, they’d drown thanks to his pride.

“Uncle…” Fili called out to Thorin, approaching her through the mud and branches, looking bewildered and concerned by Thorin’s lack of direction.

Thorin pressed his lips together, his jaw tightening before fixing his stern gaze on Gloin.

“Gloin, do as she says,” he commanded sharply, holding her gaze briefly before turning back to Gloin.

The red-haired dwarf seemed unconvinced but obeyed nonetheless. He dismounted the pony with great difficulty, grumbling in irritation as his beard sank into the brown muck.

No sooner had Gloin left Bungo than the pony calmed enough for Geira to grasp the straps at its head in a quick motion.

She turned to Fili beside her, gesturing towards the two unaccompanied ponies. “Fili, take Daisy and Rosalie’s reins and make sure they follow,” she instructed with a grunt as Bungo tried to free himself from her grip.

Then she looked over the pony’s neck at Gloin. “Gloin, go behind Bungo and push steadily. I’ll pull from the front. Let’s try to keep him calm, or he might get stuck.”

Though visibly irked at the thought of taking directions from her, the dwarf nodded silently, casting a glance upwards in search of further orders from Thorin—which did not come.

Once both dwarves were in position, she moved in front of the black pony, gripping the sides of its bridle tightly to steady it as much as possible.

“One… two… push!” she shouted at the top of her lungs, beginning to pull on the straps.

She clenched her teeth, groaning with the effort as her muscles trembled under her skin. She threw her head back, pulling with all her strength.

“Come on, Bungo, move…” she muttered through gritted teeth, glancing back to see the other ponies had made it to the far side of the swamp.

Before she realised it, the reins suddenly became lighter to pull. Astonished, she looked to her side and saw Thorin, as mired in mud as she was, pulling the pony by the reins from the opposite side.

A lump formed in her throat as she found him beside her. His white teeth flashed as he pulled harder on the reins, his gaze fixed straight ahead, ignoring the mud that smeared his blue cloak and half of his dark hair.

The shock of his gesture froze her briefly. Only when Thorin frowned, ready to pull again, did she follow his lead.

Bungo continued to resist, though Gloin tried to soothe him with murmured words. But after a few more attempts, she felt the ground beneath her shift as the pony’s hoof stepped forward. Thorin noticed it too, and as she stepped aside to let the pony pass, he did the same, wrapping the reins around his wrist and continuing to pull.

When they finally reached the far bank, Geira felt as though the ground would give way beneath her. Taking a few steps, she freed herself from the mud, leaning both arms against a tree trunk and pressing her forehead against it in exhaustion.

It was perhaps the most arduous and absurd thing she’d done in years, but they were safe—every one of them, along with their supplies.

“What a mess…” she heard Dwalin mutter behind her, followed by the thud of someone likely stepping off a mud-caked steed.

“Many claim mud is good for the skin and works wonders on beards, you know?” Bofur teased.

“Shut your mouth, Bofur,” came the retort, followed by a disgusted grunt and the muffled sound of coughing as Bofur’s laughter rang out, joined by a few others she couldn’t identify.

Bilbo’s groan grew louder, accompanied by gagging noises. “I think I’m going to be sick,” he murmured weakly.

“Oh, come now, Mr Baggins—a bit of mud never hurt anyone,” Kili jested.

“A bit of mud? I look like I’ve emerged from a dung heap—or worse, my bath! Damn it all,” Bilbo snapped shrilly, provoking more laughter and jests from the company.

As soon as Geira felt she’d recovered some strength, she tried to lift her face from the moss-covered trunk. Her heart was still pounding furiously, not just from exertion but also from what Thorin had just done.

He had helped the company, not her, she told herself. Don’t dwell on it.

She glanced down at her clothes, completely covered in muck. The filth clung to her shirt, black leather vest, and trousers, even seeping into her boots. She didn’t dare imagine what her face looked like. With a shrug, she let the heavy fur cloak drop to the ground, though the sticky sensation and stench clinging to her nostrils didn’t diminish in the slightest.

Her gaze shifted to Gloin, who stood with his face close to Bungo’s head, speaking to the pony as though addressing another dwarf. He responded in a low voice while stroking the animal’s muzzle with both hands. Her eyes wandered to Thorin, standing a little further ahead. He had just removed his cloak and laid it over Minty, his brown mare. Balin assisted him by holding Deathless , Thorin’s sword, which he had carried for as long as she had known him.

Almost involuntarily, she ran her fingers over her own sword, brushing a layer of mud from its pommel and clearing the sticky foliage from the grip with her thumb. She would have to clean the blade as soon as she found a place to wash—a necessity for everyone at this point. Both ponies and dwarves were caked in filth, and even those who hadn’t leapt into the swamp to help Gloin were covered in sticky brown muck up to their waists.

In the distance, Dori’s beard braids were smeared with mud, and with a disgusted expression, he tried wiping them clean on his shirt sleeve, muttering indignantly all the while.

“Well, Master Dori, at least we’re out of the swamp! Surely you’d have preferred this over more rain?” Gandalf teased, riding his horse near him.

Dori scrunched his nose, looking down at his soiled clothes and hands. “It’s a pity we now smell worse than goat dung!”

Gandalf chuckled heartily, giving his horse a gentle nudge with his heels as he rode towards the edge of the forest, disappearing briefly behind it while humming a little tune.

Geira shook her head.

Wizards and their mysterious ways.

Bifur was riding nearby, muttering to himself as he tried to clean his axe on a leaf as large as his head. “ Ei Nai’rikhi jalaibsêk inîn !”

“You’ve got a point, cousin,” Bofur chimed in, waving the hat he always wore in front of his face. “Finding a nice spot to clean up would be a miracle right about now. We’d need to find a…”

“A river?” Ori cut in suddenly, his tone surprised.

The young dwarf was standing at the forest’s edge, peering through the bushes and trees ahead.

“Exactly, Ori, a river!”

“N-no… no…. a river…” he stammered, still pointing towards a small gap between the trees.

Curious, Geira looked over at the youngest member of the company, as did everyone else. Ori pushed aside a cluster of branches with his arm, revealing how the grove ended abruptly, opening into a small clearing. At its centre flowed a narrow river, with small rocky hills rising in the background—hills that had seemed so far away only moments ago.

In astonishment, Geira blinked several times, wondering if it was a mirage.

“A river…” she murmured to herself, a spontaneous smile forming on her lips.

“Could we not take advantage of this and have a bath?” Balin suggested to Thorin, who was still gazing at the small passage. “Given our condition, lad, it seems an ideal opportunity.”

Whether it was the advice of a friend or Balin’s own desire, the decision was made before Thorin could protest.

“Oh, praise great Durin! I’ve never been so happy to see water in my life!” Dori exclaimed enthusiastically, throwing his arms into the air. Without waiting for approval, he grabbed his pony’s reins and hurried towards the small path Ori had indicated.

There was barely time to head towards Rosalie before they all followed one by one, making their way through the bushes.

Gandalf observed them with amusement from his horse as they passed, cutting through the undergrowth and sparse trees that separated them from the clearing, taking the ponies with them. Judging by their whinnies, the animals were delighted to smell water.

This was all too perfect—too perfect to be real.

They should have heard the sound of rushing water, yet there was none. In that moment, Geira remembered how Gandalf had slipped away earlier, ignoring Dori’s questions and humming as he vanished. 

The answer to all her questioning dawned on her.

She watched as everyone followed Ori’s directions unquestioningly, under the watchful eye of the wizard, who was busy packing tobacco into his pipe. She picked up her cloak from the ground and placed it over Rosalie’s back, the pony nudging her cheek in gratitude.

“A little rest for you too, at last,” she whispered into Rosalie’s ear, receiving another gentle nudge in response.

As Geira passed Gandalf at the entrance to the narrow path, she gave him a knowing look.

“You had something to do with this, didn’t you?” she asked bluntly, a smile of amusement tugging at her lips.

The wizard widened his eyes in mock innocence. “Me, my dear? Absolutely not! Whatever gives you that idea?” he replied slyly, giving her a quick wink and clearing the path ahead of her with the tip of his staff.

“Thank you,” she nodded in appreciation.

The wizard didn’t reply, only widened the path further with an enigmatic smile.

Holding Rosalie’s reins, she made her way through the light brush, weaving between branches and broken tree trunks. Once she emerged, she had to take a deep breath, though opening her mouth wide was difficult. This was Gandalf’s handiwork. In her entire life, she had never seen anything in nature as perfect as this clearing. A small waterfall tumbled from a hill into the clearing, encircled by clusters of trees. A well-trodden path of smooth, round stones led to the river, across which a ford of large flat rocks led to pastures on the other side of the crystal-clear, almost transparent stream.

The entire company was already inside the clearing. Many had tossed their soiled clothes onto the short grass, leaving a trail leading to the water. They splashed about in the stream, laughing boisterously and pouncing on each other like children, though most were well past that age—far, far past it.

Others, mostly the older ones, sat on the rocks beside the river with their eyes closed, savouring the moment. A few who had not yet entered the water were busy undressing. Geira spotted only the black curls of a certain dwarf in the middle of the water and had to make a conscious effort not to let her eyes linger on him.

After freeing Rosalie, she settled on the riverbank and began removing her boots, placing them neatly beside her. She did the same with her sword, unfastening it carefully from her belt and setting it next to her after cleaning the blade lightly with her palm.

Next, she tackled the intricate laces criss-crossing her chest. With a sigh of relief, she finally managed to free herself, breathing deeply for the first time in what felt like an eternity after removing the infernal contraption. In moments like these, iron armour would have been a dream compared to the torture of  leather bodice.

“Geira?” her name was called hesitantly.

Distracted by her thoughts, her hands, which had been fiddling with the ties of her shirt collar, paused as she looked up.

Bilbo stood beside her, still fully dressed except for his pink jacket and blue waistcoat. His fingers fidgeted nervously, and he was deliberately avoiding her gaze, his eyes dramatically fixed skyward.

“Bilbo, is something wrong?” she asked, noting his reluctance to speak.

“W-what are you doing?” he stammered, refusing to meet her eyes.

“I’m undressing. I need to wash too, you know?” she said with a chuckle at his embarrassment.

“Yes, yes, of course, you need to wash,” he muttered in a deeper voice, “but… here? With us?” he asked, scratching his chin nervously.

Confused, she raised an eyebrow. “Of course, I’ll bathe here with you… where else would I do it?”

“But… but… don’t you see the… the problem?” he asked, glancing at the river and then quickly back at the company already splashing about, blissfully unaware of their conversation.

Geira couldn’t understand why she shouldn’t bathe there. “What problem?”

Bilbo’s face grew redder as he darted his gaze briefly to her chest before jerking it away again. Clearing his throat, he raised a hand to his mouth. “You know… you…” he gestured vaguely, pointing first at her and then at the dwarves in the water. “And them…”

“You mean… the fact that they might see me without clothes?” she asked, starting to grasp his point.

“Y-yes, that they might see you without clothes… others… I mean…” he stammered, gesturing wildly towards Fili and Kili, who had just launched themselves at Nori and Bofur with splashes and laughter, only to be thrown into the water amidst roaring guffaws.

“You’re worried the company might see me naked?” she asked, already knowing the answer.

“Exactly…” he confirmed, still refusing to look directly at her.

Geira had to resist laughing at the sight of his trembling hands. His naïveté stirred a deep sense of affection in her.

He truly knew nothing of the world, it was true. He knew even less about his companions.

She stood up abruptly, and even then, Bilbo refused to glance her way, despite her being fully clothed. Instead of reaching for his hand, she placed her own gently on his shoulder. He flinched at her touch, his wide green eyes finally meeting hers.

“Don’t worry, Bilbo,” she reassured him. “They’ve already seen me naked… more than once, actually,” she admitted, barely stifling a laugh as his eyes widened further in shock.

“What?!”

His startled exclamation only made her smile. “Most of them, at least. And I’ve seen them naked too.”

“How?!” he exclaimed again, gesticulating wildly.

Geira searched for a suitable explanation, or at least a half-truth, to avoid revealing too much. She wasn’t ready for Bilbo to know her past—not yet.

“When travelling like this, as we are now, we have to make compromises. One of them is deciding what we can and can’t do,” she began, gripping his arm gently. “For us, a body is just a body—nothing more. We don’t feel shame or embarrassment about it. It’s like… it’s like being clothed, in a way,” she explained in the simplest terms she could.

Bilbo’s expression shifted from embarrassment to curiosity. Tilting his head slightly, he squinted at her. “So, you’ve travelled with them before?”

Her jaw tightened, and she felt her breath catch. She had said too much, betrayed herself.

Nodding stiffly, she released Bilbo’s shoulder. “A long time ago. I travelled with… with some of them… a long time ago,” she murmured, her gaze drifting towards Dwalin, who was reclining among the water and stones, basking in the sunlight. Her eyes traced scars across his abdomen and chest and the thick muscles of his arms. She still remembered how he had gotten those scars. She had been there.

“So… what you did… what they hold against you… it happened while you were exiled…”

“If you like, Bilbo, I can move further away from you if it makes you uncomfortable to see me,” she interrupted with a smile, unwilling to continue the conversation, especially about those terrible days.

Bilbo pressed his lips together, then offered her a gentle smile. He had clearly realised this wasn’t a subject she wanted to discuss. She felt guilty, but she wasn’t ready—not yet, and perhaps she never would be.

Bilbo shook his head. “No, it’s not fair—I’ll turn around,” he muttered, raising his hands in a gesture of surrender before shrugging nervously.

“As you wish,” she murmured softly, more to herself than him. She quickly shed the remaining layers of her clothing—the trousers and her red shirt—placing them with the rest of the pile near the riverbank.

The moment she was naked, a slight chill sent goosebumps across her skin.

As the soles of her feet touched the smooth but firm pebbles, her face twisted into a grimace, though it softened the moment the cool, clear water enveloped her. A sigh of relief escaped her lips as she sank into the river up to her neck, tilting her head back to let the water soak into her hair.

She stayed like that for a while, basking in the sun’s warmth on her face and the river’s coolness, which eased her weary, aching muscles. The sunlight painted small spots on her closed eyelids while the water’s currents brushed softly against the scars on her arms and legs.

Dipping her head fully underwater, the sounds of the forest and joyful cries became muffled. She could hear only the faint hum of the riverbed as her breath slowed. When her lungs began to burn, she surfaced quickly, gasping and rubbing the water from her eyes, pushing her hair back from her face.

With a few strokes, she reached a rock in the middle of the river. She leaned against it, crossing her arms and resting her head atop them, exposing her back and letting the water soothe every fibre of her body.

She deserved a moment of peace.

For long minutes, she lay there, listening to the birdsong and the rustling of water, along with the distant chatter and laughter of the company. The droplets on her skin dried under the gentle warmth of the sun. It was so tranquil that she felt as though she had travelled back in time, wandering through forests as she had in the past. How many streams and rivers had offered her respite during her journeys, witnessed the same melancholic and wistful expression she wore now?

She couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. Every time she opened an eye and glanced towards the company, no one seemed to be looking at her. Yet as soon as she closed her eyes again, that strange sensation returned.

“Geira?”

Bilbo’s uncertain voice made her open her eyes and turn to her left. The hobbit, still wearing his shirt and trousers, was swimming nearby, trying not to look directly at her.

“May I?” he asked, motioning towards a rock close to hers, clearly hesitant.

“Of course,” she said with a nod, inviting him to join her. Without hesitation, he settled onto the nearby rock, leaning back as she had, letting the cool water lap around him.

They sat in companionable silence, listening to the wind whistle through the trees, the river’s gentle flow between them, and the noisy chirping of birds. Her unease lessened, knowing Bilbo was nearby. It’s brief whistle further eased her spirit, calming the storm within her.

“What does the tattoo on your back mean—the two ravens?” he asked suddenly. A terrible pang struck her chest as she straightened in the water, placing a protective hand on her scarred shoulder.

“Why do you ask?” she whispered, her fingers brushing the outline of the bird’s wing.

“They were talking about it earlier,” he explained cautiously, gesturing vaguely behind her. “I’d tried to approach the others, making my way through the chaos, and as I got closer, I overheard them mentioning your tattoo. It seemed important to them, so I wondered…”

“Thorin?” she interrupted, gritting her teeth as pain stabbed through her chest.

Bilbo nodded silently, staring at the water lapping his stomach. “Fili and Kili were asking questions… then he and Balin…”

Geira’s gaze drifted to Thorin, seated on the opposite riverbank, talking with Balin. The older dwarf’s eyes were fixed on his king, but for a moment, she swore Thorin glanced her way. She could only see his broad back, yet it was enough. That back, sculpted like pure marble, bore scars and a tattoo she knew by heart. His tattoo was similar to hers—a single raven, crowned.

Old anger stirred within her chest, and the more her fingers touched the permanent mark on her back, the more it begged her to unleash her wrath. But she restrained herself; she had to. She had promised.

Enough of the past—her last confrontation with Thorin had been enough.

She dropped her hand from her shoulder, crossing her arms over her chest and lowering her gaze. Rising from the water, she headed for the shore.

“It means nothing, Bilbo,” she said hastily, grabbing her clothes from where they lay near the river. She clutched them to her chest, determined to wash them and rid herself of these intrusive thoughts.

“From the way they spoke, it didn’t seem like nothing,” Bilbo countered softly.

She must have shown too much vulnerability, even to Bilbo.

Trying again, she spoke firmly, as if issuing a warning. “Please, Bilbo, it truly means nothing…” She hesitated. “Please, let it go.”

Bilbo didn’t respond further. She only heard him sigh as he let the matter drop. Perhaps he had realised the situation was far more complex than he had anticipated.

In silence, she scrubbed her clothes in the river, washing away the dirt, as though trying to cleanse her mind of negative thoughts. Soon, she would do the same for her sword.

“For what it’s worth,” Bilbo said after a long pause, shaking his head as if banishing unwanted thoughts, “I… well, I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened to you, but whatever it was—if it’s any comfort—I think Thorin or anyone you might have wronged will forgive you, in time.”

“And what if I don’t want to be forgiven? Or if it’s I who must forgive?” she snapped, scrubbing the last layer of mud from her trousers and leaving Bilbo no time to reply.

Yet, as before, she immediately regretted her outburst. Her emotions would be her undoing.

With a heavy sigh, she lowered her gaze to the water, brushing her fingers over the intricate metal bracelet always fastened to her wrist. “You don’t know dwarves. You don’t know Thorin.”

“And you…?”

A faint smile graced her lips as her fingers traced the delicate craftsmanship of the bracelet. Its links were as light and strong as dragon scales, precious enough to construct a palace.

“I thought I knew him, a long time ago… a very long time ago,” she murmured, her voice fading.

“What happened between you two? I mean… before… before the exile?”

“There are events that leave a deep mark on you. The coming of Smaug was no different. It changed us—both him and me,” she said, pausing to take a steadying breath. “He used to smile more,” she murmured, a painful ache tightening her chest as she fought back a tear she had sworn never to shed again.

She heard Bilbo inhale, preparing to ask another question, but before he could speak, the voices of the company rose. Many of them began emerging from the river, signalling to both that it was time to move on.

Geira left the water quickly, eager to put distance between herself and the emotions Bilbo had stirred within her. Gathering her dry clothes in her arms, she left the wet ones near the sacks and sheathed her sword. With brisk steps, she walked towards the forest.

The grass brushed against her toes, the leaves of low-hanging trees grazed her skin, and the approaching sunset warmed her gently. Its rays dried the tips of her short hair, curling them slightly at the ends.

The grove grew denser, with oaks and shrubs increasing with every step she took, as did the silence enveloping her.

She was retreating again, needing those few minutes of privacy only a cluster of trees could provide. She didn’t want to see anyone’s face—not for a while.

She stopped after a short distance, unwilling to wander too far and risk making them search for her.

Scanning her surroundings for any uninvited visitors, she eventually felt assured of her solitude, though not entirely at ease. With a huff, she draped her clean clothes over a curved branch and began dressing quickly, piece by piece.

She secured her trousers, covering the two rune-like stripes tattooed on her thighs, and slipped on her white shirt, hiding the tattoo on her back and ensuring no one—not even herself—could see it again.

Tense as a bowstring, she reached blindly for the leather corset on the branch, but as she grasped it, her wrist caught on two small twigs.

Geira tugged her hand free, but the green wood didn’t break immediately. She was forced to look at it again, and her gaze fell on the bracelet of pale metal glimmering like moonlight in the waning sun’s rays.

Until the last breath.

“No, no, no, no!” she muttered aloud, yanking herself free and looking away immediately. “Let it rot! Let it all rot, him and everything else!” she growled, fumbling with the clasp that kept the cursed thing secured to her wrist.

She wanted to throw it away right then and there, in the middle of nowhere. She didn’t even want to sell it—she just wanted it gone, never to be seen again. She didn’t want it near her or on her, didn’t want to see it anymore. It was the last reminder of what she had been—not for Erebor, not for herself, but for him. What he had once meant to her.

Her hands began to tremble, her breath came in uneven gasps, and her throat tightened, making even breathing painful.

She tried to remove the bracelet, but the more she pulled at its clasp, the more the indestructible metal seemed to cling to her arm like a vice. Gritting her teeth, she grabbed at it, yanking it with such force that it hurt, but it refused to move.

With a despairing groan, she gave up, slumping against the branch in front of her, resting her elbows on it and burying her face in her hands.

Tears threatened to fall again, but she forced them back, clenching her eyes shut. She couldn’t keep reacting this way—she had to be strong, as she had always been taught, as she always had to be.

She needed to be like she was in battle—unfeeling, unemotional. Even now, she had to remain hard, unable to cry any longer.

Blowing out a sharp breath, she ran a trembling hand through her damp, tangled hair. Suddenly, a rustling sound different from the others made her ears perk up. Something had stepped on fallen leaves.

She straightened immediately, her senses on alert, scanning the area for the source of the noise. She knew exactly what it was.

“Go away, Bilbo,” she said wearily, rubbing her temples with the tips of her fingers. “I’m not in the mood to talk.”

Her head throbbed as though a hammer was repeatedly striking it, adding to the exhaustion weighing on her body.

“You still have the habit of making assumptions without first being certain, lass,” came a rasping voice, making her lift her head from her hands. “You’ve always been so impulsive.”

At the sound of that voice, Geira hastily pushed the bracelet back under her shirt sleeve.

“Some habits are hard to break, Balin, and flaws are even worse,” she replied coldly, not even turning to face the older dwarf.

Hearing his voice alone made her skin crawl. Looking at him would only worsen the turmoil within her. Instead, she continued dressing, grabbing the corset she hadn’t managed to don earlier and wrapping it around her shoulders and waist.

“I’m sorry. I never intended for this particular trait of yours to be considered a flaw,” he said calmly.

“It’s always been treated as one, though, if I remember correctly,” she retorted acidly, fastening the straps around her waist. For days, he hadn’t given her so much as a glance, and now he wanted to talk as though nothing had happened, as though the years between them didn’t exist. As though everything that had transpired was a fleeting memory. And he wanted to talk about her faults.

He had no right. He could go back to scheming with his king.

The older dwarf chuckled softly. “Not when it came to taking charge. You’ve always been the most capable in that regard. It’s one of the reasons you were always the best.”

“It was only training,” she interrupted tersely.

“I didn’t mean the best at fighting—I meant the best overall…”

Geira stayed silent, hoping in vain that time had made Balin less intrusive, that he would leave her alone without trying to twist the situation to his advantage, as he always had.

He was, after all, a politician. He had always been one. She remembered when he would visit her home with her father, sitting in his study for hours, filling out documents and preparing speeches for the king. She didn’t want to be yet another page for him to analyse.

“Why are you here, Balin?” she asked bluntly as she finished fastening her corset. “If you wanted me to hurry up, you could have just left. I would have caught up in a few minutes.”

“I came to apologise for what my brother said to you a few days ago. It wasn’t fair of him, and I wanted to thank you for what you did today.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips.

“Dwalin does what he wants when he wants, as he always has. Your apology, like his, isn’t necessary. And your gratitude isn’t either. I did what needed to be done to ensure everyone survived,” she explained, kneeling to pull on her boots and avoid letting the situation spiral further. “I can handle things on my own without anyone’s thanks.”

The older dwarf sighed, remaining silent for a few moments. “I know, I know, and so do the others…” He paused, taking a heavy breath. “Even Thorin. Though he’ll never admit it, he knows.”

At the mention of that name, she felt her back burn as though the tattoo beneath her shirt flared to life. Her eyes itched to glance at her wrist where the bracelet lay hidden.

“I don’t care what he knows or doesn’t know. He has nothing to do with my decisions anymore. I do what’s right, not under his orders—and certainly not for him!” she snapped, nearly growling as she bent to tighten the straps on her boots.

Balin took a small step forward. Instinctively, she stepped back, clenching her teeth.

“You’ve taken the hobbit under your wing. For that, I think a thank-you from all of us is warranted. He wasn’t quite the companion we’d expected,” Balin continued, his tone measured.

“I don’t want your gratitude, Balin. I don’t want gratitude from any of you!” she shot back sharply. “Bilbo deserves the same chance to survive as the rest of us. He deserves it. He was thrown out the door with nothing but a push and nothing to guide him, without so much as a clue how to cross the threshold.”

Balin remained quiet, offering no reply. The birdsong filled the silence, and she had no intention of adding to her earlier words. She had told him what he needed to know.

She secured the leather strap around her calf, then repeated the motion with the other, waiting for Balin to leave.

“Your father… where is he?”

Her hands trembled, and she kept her gaze firmly fixed on the ground, clenching her fingers with all her strength.

“He’s dead. A hundred years ago, near the banks of the Adorn,” she murmured, her voice as controlled as she could make it, stripped of all emotion. “He’s buried there, at the base of the highest hill I could find,” she added, recalling the small cairn she had built with her bare hands and the runes she had carved in mere hours. “The closest thing to a mountain for miles,” she muttered to herself, rising to her feet despite the sharp ache in her chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

“No, you’re not sorry, Balin. So don’t waste your breath on these empty platitudes,” she snapped, her voice low but cold. “My father died in exile, and his grave is in exile. Nothing can change that—not your sorrow!” she spat, glaring directly into his eyes.

“What happened, Geira,” Balin began cautiously, “what happened to you… it wasn’t an easy decision for anyone to accept—or to make, for that matter. On either side.”

“Don’t speak as though you opposed it, Balin. No one did. No one said a word that day!” she shouted, stepping closer and jabbing a finger at his chest. “We were cast out like wild animals, forbidden from speaking to any of our kind for the rest of our lives! Everything was taken from us!”

Her voice rang out, echoing through the small grove. The fury she had suppressed for years finally poured out.

He had been there—Balin, like so many others, had watched silently as Thorin, Thráin, and Thrór had exiled her and her father. They had seen, they had heard her pleas, and yet no one had done anything then, nor in the 120 years that followed.

Balin’s lips quivered beneath his white beard, his face clouded with sorrow. “No one could have said anything in the face of such a verdict. It wasn’t easy, Geira—not for anyone,” he said softly, emphasising the word anyone to make his meaning clear.

“It wasn’t easy?” she shouted again, her voice raw, almost breaking into tears she refused to let fall. “For whom? It didn’t seem hard for him—or for anyone in this company!”

A shadow passed over Balin’s eyes, and his expression darkened.

“It was a very difficult time, Geira,” he murmured, lowering his gaze.

He couldn’t even look at her.

“... far too difficult.”

A bitter laugh escaped her lips, laced with pain and words left unsaid. It was laughable, how Balin still believed Thorin might have cared, might have suffered for her, when he had been the one to order her banishment.

With a wry smile tugging at her mouth, she stepped closer to Balin, her eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “Look me in the eye and tell me you think I’m not a traitor. That I didn’t deserve what happened to me—or what my father endured. Tell me he doesn’t think the same.”

“That day was terrible, and the years leading up to Smaug’s arrival were even worse. What happened to you is…”

“Answer the question!” she hissed, her voice as cold as ice. “Look me in the eye and tell me, Balin!” she then shouted, her voice erupting with all the strength she could muster.

Balin flinched at her outburst but continued to gaze at her with sorrow, his mouth slightly open as if ready to respond. Yet no words came. His eyes met hers, searching her soul, but he could not offer the answer she already knew.

“See? Your apologies, your regrets—they’re meaningless to me, just like all the other lies,” she whispered icily.

Without waiting for a reply, she brushed past him, leaving the old dwarf and all her anger and pain behind her. She headed back to the others—and inevitably towards the source of her suffering.

------------------------------- TAG LIST: @mrsdurin

[stuffymcstuffsworld]

The hunted

Heart pounding. Air escaping your lungs as you ran. You had to keep moving. You couldn't afford to stop. You needed to maintain your distance.

Weaving through the trees, you make your way further into the woods. You couldn't be out in the open. You needed obstacles between yourself and your pursuer.

He wasn't going to get a clear shot. Not that easily. If you were going to be shot down, you were going to make him work for it. You were anything but easy prey.

You dodged an incoming arrow. Damn it! He was gaining on you. He's trying to box you in. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

You knew that you couldn't keep this up forever. Another arrow whizzed by. Shit! You slide into a thick bramble of thorn bushes. It hurt like hell, but at least it obscured his vision. Making it harder for him to shoot using sight alone.

You needed a better plan than running or hiding. The freaking bastard was too hyperfocused on you. Relentless in his pursuit.

You started to crawl, keeping low to the ground and making as little noise as possible. Curse demons and their heightened senses. Especially one's currently undergoing their evil cycles.

Robin-San was being a real bitch when it came to hunting you. You just couldn't shake him. Stupid hyperfocused green gremlin.

Just wait till this is over. You were going to bash that numbskulls fucking brains out with one of Opera's frying pans! That is... if you weren't eaten first.

The sound of his laughter came straight out of a horror movie. It wasn't his normal laugh. The joyful and bubbly one. No, this was the laugh of a maniacal serial killer. One that sent chills down your spine.

He was close... your heart rate spiked. Shit, he probably knew exactly where you were. "Come out, come out wherever you are! Little human~" You're breathing stilled, and your body frozen.

That voice wasn't the cheerful call of Robin-San. It wasn't an invitation to come and play. No, the words may sound innocent, but the tone made you want to curl up into a ball and hide.

It was the feeling of being prey. Your mouth dry, your hands tremble. The feeling of being sick to your stomach.

Rationally, you knew he was messing with your head. He wanted you to be scared. To get sloppy and become careless. But at the same time, you knew that some thorny bushes weren't going to stop him from catching you.

Demons were basically a living, breathing cheat code. Enhanced senses, faster reflexes, and their inhuman strength. What's worse was that Robin-San was an archer.

This increased his stats compared to average demons. Seeing as the recieve intense training in all those categories. Not to mention his speed.

Training to be a hunter since he took his first steps, no doubt. There was only one way you could possibly survive. Only one method.

This method requires you to rely on one thing. Robin-San himself. It was a rather large risk, seeing as the demon was not his usual self, but one you were going to have to take.

The energetic imp was young and impatient. Which meant he could also become sloppy if he was too egar. You had to wait him out.

As a human life is all about waiting. Modern-day society loved to test people's patience. The average human was constantly waiting for something.

Traffic, delayed flights, and pharmacy lines. It actually could be said that there was never a time a human wasn't waiting. There was no such thing as instantaneous in your world.

Now, this builds up certain levels of tolerance. You calm your breathing, allowing your heartbeat to slow. This wasn't a game. It was your life on the line. And while Robin-San was normally one of the sweetest demons around... today, he was the enemy.

It was time to stop being the prey. It was time to become the hunter instead. You just hoped that you could time this right. Robin-San's speed would be a major factor in this.

You could tell he was getting restless. Silently, you take off your belt, wrapping it tightly around your arm for later use. It was now or never.

Knowing that he still couldn't make a clear shot, you push yourself up and bolted. Allowing yourself to be scratched by the prickling thorns. The smell of your blood would send him into a frenzy.

You were counting on that. You needed him to act recklessly. You could almost feel the glee rolling off of him in waves. That's right, you cheeky little bastard... catch the dumb human.

Using yourself as bait is not recommended. However, it was deemed necessary right now. You side stepped at the last second. He passes you in a bright blur of neon green.

This buys you a few seconds, but it's enough time for you to change directions. This time, you needed the open space. He needed to think he could win with a single shot. He needed to use his trump card if you had any chance.

You reached an open clearing. You don't stop. You keep going. You need him to believe that you made a careless mistake and were trying to rush through.

A tingling sensation filled you, and you knew without looking or hearing anything he had drawn his bow. His arrow locked onto his target. A pulsing in your viens as you hear. "You're mine now~"

The cheerful cry is not quite how he normally sounded. There was a deranged edge to his voice. He's a little lost in the madness.

You spin around mid-step right as he releases the arrow. Extending your arm, you catch his arrow in mid-flight. The belt on your arm now acts as a bracer. The leather helping to absorb some of the raw magics energy.

You see, there are a few ways to insult an archer of his caliber. One. You are somehow able to block his shot. Two. You redirect his arrow with one of your own. Or three...

You somehow manage to catch it. You smirked at his stunned expression. You spin it around in your hand and heft the large arrow like a spear. It certainly was heavy as one.

Three. You return the arrow back to the sender. Hurling it at him before he had time to think or notch another arrow.

It grazed his cheek during his attempt to dodge. But you offered no recovery time. You threw yourself at him this time.

You tackle the small demon to the ground. In all honesty, he should have been able to toss you aside like a used rag. It's only cause you had the element of surprise that you succeeded.

Never underestimate the multipurpose use of a belt. Using it as a method of restraint preventing the use of his arms. You knew it was only good as a temporary solution at this point.

He could break through that belt if you gave him the chance. Which you wouldn't. Forcing more of your weight on top of him, you place his head into a leg lock.

You had no intention of killing him. Despite the fact that he had been a little shithead and had terrorized you. No... you just needed him to pass out.

Suffocation was the quickest and easiest method to use given the circumstances. That and the fact you had nothing else to work with. He should be grateful that you're not strangling him with the belt instead all things considered.

You watched him thrash and struggle for air. He was a fighter. You would give him that. But the drooling and attempts to bite your legs you could live without.

He bucks like a wild stallion trying to knock you off his back. Like Hell! There was no fucking way you were letting go. Not after all the trouble you just went through!

Not after all the running. The near heart failures. Or the fucking biting you had just put up with!!! You weren't about to be thrown off.

It took a few minutes for his body to go limp. You wait just a bit longer to be on the safe side. Slowly, you withdrew. You checked to make sure he was breathing properly.

An unusual site, to say the least. It was odd to see him so still... so calm. It was almost unsettling. But his steady breaths were a sign of life.

"Looks like I'm the one who caught you, Robin-San. Sorry." You petted his hair. Hopefully, by the time he woke up, his evil cycle would be over.

[sativvaadivvaa]

excerpt from my new book : Where Hellen Isn’t

Summer, 2013. One girl vanished. Then they found her body.

Now, her five closest friends are left with nothing but questions-and each other.

Allison can't stop thinking about Hellen.

Chaz is unraveling under secrets he's never said out loud.

Lyssa wants to believe things make sense. Mason isn't so sure anymore.

And Theo just wants the noise to stop.

They say there's something in the woods.

They say to move on.

But the truth doesn't stay quiet forever.

A haunting story about friendship, identity, and the way grief lingers like fog in the trees

~

Smoke unfurled from the cracked rear window like a whispered confession, slow and secretive. It dissolved into the sharp autumn dusk, curling into nothing before it could reach anyone's attention—not that anyone in this dead-end neighborhood gave a damn.

Allison sprawled across the middle seat of Chaz's rust-patched pickup, her knees bent up on the dash, a nearly spent joint pinched between two fingers. The sleeves of her hoodie swallowed her hands, that old hoodie she never gave back to Hellen. It still carried a trace of that strange blend—pine needles and cinnamon—and wearing it felt like walking beside a ghost who never asked for anything.

"Hand it over, Paul Bunyan," came Theo's voice, muffled through the back window. He sat cross-legged in the bed of the truck like a gremlin prince, pajama pants tucked beneath him, his bleach-blond hair catching fire in the last rays of sunlight.

Allison tilted her head, exhaling slow. "Not until you drop the damn nickname," she called, her voice loose with amusement.

"You felled *one* tree," Chaz muttered from behind the wheel, still scrolling on his phone. "Once. You're not building log cabins now."

"Dyke Bunyan," Theo added with glee, kicking the side of the truck for punctuation.

Even Chaz let out a short laugh, reluctant, the sound fraying at the edges. Allison smirked and raised a lazy middle finger toward the bed of the truck, smoke trailing from her lips like thread unraveling.

By the time they pulled up, Mason and Lyssa were already settled by the pit. Mason crouched near the kindling, coaxing fire from dry sticks with practiced hands—broad, steady, capable—like he'd been born into survival. Lyssa was perched nearby, small and rigid, tucked in like a bird ready to bolt, her pale hair catching the flicker of flame.

"Look who brought their roadside hotbox to the woods," Lyssa said, lifting her chin toward Chaz, eyes glinting with cold amusement.

"Didn't realize we were entertaining royalty tonight," Chaz muttered, his tone flat and sour.

The words sat between them like something rotten. Allison felt the sharp edge of it but didn't slice into it—not yet.

They peeled out of the truck one at a time—Theo jumping down barefoot, sticking the landing with theatrical flair, Chaz circling around to offer a mock bow before helping him down. Allison followed last, stretching her legs, the hem of her hoodie sliding down to bare one shoulder.

The clearing looked like it always had: a ring of half-rotted logs, the fire pit like a scar in the dirt, an old cooler bleeding rust beside it. Familiar in that haunted, hand-me-down way. Hellen had named it *The Hollow*, once. None of them could remember why.

Mason raised a brow. "Thought you weren't coming."

"Traffic," Chaz replied, a ghost of a smirk twitching at his mouth.

"From your driveway?" Lyssa asked, crossing her arms.

"Zip it," Allison cut in, pulling a crumpled joint from her back pocket like a magician pulling scarves. "Round two?"

Lyssa gave a polite shrug of disdain. Mason accepted without a word, holding it like it might break, inhaling deeply as if bracing against something invisible. His fingers shook slightly, betraying more than he'd admit.

They passed it around, each hit burning a little silence off the night. Conversation flickered like the fire—bright, sputtering, reluctant. No one said Hellen's name, but her absence coiled through the air, curling into the corners of their laughter like a vine creeping along a forgotten wall.

Theo collapsed beside Allison, his knees bouncing erratically. "If I tell the raccoon story again, someone hit me."

"Do it," Allison said, smiling faintly. "I wanna hear it."

"You always do."

"That's 'cause you keep improving it."

For a breath, the gloom lifted, carried off by the lightness of their voices. Across the fire, Chaz didn't laugh. His stare burned into the flames, posture rigid, hands jammed deep in his jacket like he was trying to disappear into himself.

Allison leaned back, palms flat in the dirt, letting the sky blur above her. Smoke drifted through the trees, dissolving into the twisted canopy. Hellen used to say the forest had faces. That the branches remembered things. Allison didn't believe it then, but tonight, she wasn't sure.

Chaz's silence weighed more than words. It was the kind that filled a room, not emptied it. Allison watched him—noticed the glances he kept stealing toward Theo, quick and tight-lipped, like shame had claws.

Theo didn't seem to notice. He tapped a rhythm into his thighs, head tilted toward the fire like it was telling him secrets.

Lyssa was quieter than usual. No jabs, no strange commentary about moths or graveyards. Just silence, curled in her lap like a pet.

Allison's mind floated, the weed making thoughts weightless and strange. Lyssa had been a later addition—Mason's girl before she was anyone else's friend. She was sharp-edged, slick with something half-feral, the kind of girl who liked the things most people crossed the street to avoid. She wasn't soft the way Hellen had been. Hellen had made the world quieter. Lyssa made it stranger.

"I'm breaking my dart record tonight," Theo said suddenly, grinning.

Chaz raised an eyebrow. "You tracking your urinal stats now?"

Theo nodded, eyes on the stars. "It's a sacred rite."

Chaz didn't answer. His fingers twitched against his knees, like he was about to reach for something and changed his mind. "I'll pass."

"Christ," Lyssa muttered. "You sulk harder than a wet cat. Do *something* or quit moping."

Chaz stood too fast, brushing dust off his jeans like it offended him. "Didn't realize we needed clowns tonight."

"Relax," Allison said, barely glancing up.

"Whatever."

Mason rose with a sigh. "Anyone want to shoot around?"

"No," Lyssa said, picking at the bark of a stick. "I'd rather see how long it takes Chaz to combust."

"Fuck off," Chaz growled, spinning to face her.

Allison closed her eyes. Here it came. Always, always those two circling the same old argument, neither landing a blow that would stick, just spinning in anger and something like grief.

She wrapped her arms around her knees. She should've stopped it. Should've stepped in. But what would she even say?

Chaz hated change. Lyssa *was* change.

Hellen's absence scraped at her again—sharp, then dull, like a bruise hidden under layers of memory.

"Chaz," she said quietly, not expecting it to reach him.

He didn't move. She watched his shoulders rise, fall.

"I'm going for a walk," she murmured, standing. "Be back."

No one tried to stop her.

The woods swallowed her quickly, the noise of the fire fading behind her like a memory pulled out to sea. Fog pressed between the trees, thick and low. The branches overhead knotted together, gnarled and skeletal. Allison kept walking.

Hellen used to say the forest listened.

A snap of twigs underfoot, a shimmer of movement in the haze. Allison froze.

"Hellen?" she breathed, stupidly.

Nothing.

Her heart thudded against her ribs. Her hand found a tree, gripping bark. "Shit."

The air was heavier here. Time didn't move right. She turned back, breath shallow, vision stung with memory.

By the time she stumbled back into the firelight, the clearing looked unreal—too warm, too golden. Everyone still sat in the circle, but their laughter had gone quiet. Theo and Chaz faced each other across the fire like rival reflections, something unsaid lingering in the space between them.

It hurt to look.

Mason draped himself across Lyssa like armor, his laugh loud and misplaced. She leaned away almost imperceptibly.

Allison watched them all, felt her stomach twist. Mason had never known how to *stay* close without reaching too far.

Then, Theo stood up abruptly. "Gonna go mark some trees."

"I'm in," Chaz said, eyes still heavy.

"Me too," Mason added, never one to miss a chance to compete.

Lyssa snorted, "Godspeed, gentlemen."

Once the boys were swallowed by the woods, Lyssa turned to Allison. Her voice was softer than usual. "You okay?"

Allison blinked. She wasn't used to concern from Lyssa.

"I'm—" She paused. Her voice cracked on the first word. "No. Not really."

Lyssa didn't look surprised. She nodded once, slow. "I wish I'd known her better."

That did it. Allison's chest clenched. "She was... everything. You don't meet people like that twice."

"She made the world feel different," Lyssa said, eyes on the fire. "Even silence felt full when she was in it."

Allison looked toward the woods, to the dark trees swaying gently. "I should've said something before she was gone."

"I think she knew," Lyssa said, quietly. "People like that... they *see* it."

Allison didn't answer. She just nodded. Grief sat between them like another person.

The boys returned, loud and laughing, breaking the stillness. They sat, and for a moment, things seemed okay again.

But Allison saw the truth in the shadows.

None of them would ever be whole again.

Not without her. Not without *Hellen*.

And Allison felt, with a certainty that stung, that absence wasn't emptiness.

It was presence—just one they could no longer touch.

thx so much for reading! kind critique, suggestions, and feedback is welcomed!!

[feathersnek]

Let's talk about Kodama Atwood

A little gremlin- *AHEM* A loyal reaper knight.

Our surely unbiased narrator and lead of the new cast of Tales of the Rays brand new story arc: Recollection. In our current small chunk of 3 chapters, allow me to introduce him!

On the surface:

Though he is genuinely kind and will help those in trouble at the drop of a hat, this trait is buried under a sly wit and an easygoing personality. He will not let slights towards him or his beloved ruler go unpunished. Crossing him is less likely to incur immediate backlash, and more likely to come back on the offender when they least expect it in the form of a quiet scheme. Though he isn't against getting into a scrap or resorting to more petty get-backs.

He has an almost childlike curiosity about the people and world around him. He has been noted to taste random things, including memories, and carefully observe his fellow knight's hobbies. His personality is very adaptable, giving snark remarks or honey-tongued bribery one moment, and pure hearted, genuine praise the next. He lives at his own pace. Yet he will do anything - from getting his own hands dirty to degrading himself - in order to follow his morals or help those he cares about with no hesitation.

Shall we get into more detail and how he got to this point? Follow me below the cut:

As a child, Kodama was almost killed by the enemies that have driven mankind to the brink of destruction, wraiths. Severely wounded, young Kodama was rescued by the ruler of humanity's final kingdom, Haze.

That day, having lost all of his memories as a side effect of the attack, Kodama idolized Haze and swore to become a reaper knight, and eventually her right hand man to protect her and repay his debt.

He grew up as a wastelander, a person living in colonies outside of the capital city and its luxury of a protective barrier. His life was one of bitter survival, and he learned to taste various plants to determine if they were safe to eat or sell. Though this life didn't get him down because he lived to one day meet Haze again, and this filled all of his days with hope.

As he no longer remembers his name, the villagers named him "Kodama" (A name roughly meaning "echo" that is also associated with tree spirits) because of his strange, yet to be elaborated on ability to "hear" wraiths.

Clawing his way up from the wastelands, Kodama became a rookie reaper knight, a person who can fight the normally untouchable wraiths, and finally arrived at the capital city. His weapon imitates the hands of a clock and his abilities lightly manipulate time, freezing his enemies or speeding up his attacks.

However, being a wastelander originally, he is looked down upon by most reaper knights. He is the first to come to the defense of his fellow wastelanders and of course the friends he's made in the capital. His curiosity stems from having no childhood memories of his own, and he loves to listen to the tales of other's memories - be they bitter or sweet.

And thus our newbie knight aspires for the day he can climb the ranks and finally meet his beloved ruler and thank her for saving him.

Little does he know that day is close at hand...

[dragontame]

This has been brewing in my mind for a couple of weeks, but I'd headcanon that General Grawl from Planet 51 has a pet that he has at home. I thought of a perfect pet for him and that would be a fox squirrel like Teto from "Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind" because Grawl seems like the kind of person that needs a smaller animal to take care of due to his military work schedule and I love both films so much. Grawl's fox squirrel name is Nausicaä and how he ended up getting her as a pet is that when he was starting off in the military, Grawl found Nausicaä as a baby fox squirrel on the ground near a tree that was next to the military base after hearing really weak squeaks. Apparently, she was so weak and sick that it looked like the little fuzz ball wasn't gonna make it, but Grawl was determined to save her and thus took in the baby fox squirrel. Due to his intervention, determination, and love for animals, Nausicaä survived and became a loyal pet to Grawl after the Promethean man saved her life. I like to imagine Nausicaä acts like a cat despite being a fox squirrel due to her behavior and how she was raised by Grawl (He basically spoils her rotten and loves his sweet little fluff ball). It took some time for Nausicaä to trust Chuck, but after some time and giving her some treats & gentle scratches. Nausicaä is pretty much putty in Chuck's hands and loves to curl on top of him whenever he takes a nap, taking in that nice human warmth while making tiny squeaks or purring. Considering she's the opposite of Ripley the Xenomorph puppy, Nausicaä will act like Ripley's mediator by making sure she behaves accordingly especially for Chuck's sake when it comes to their daily walks. Basically, do not drag the poor human around while chasing the mailman or smelling fresh baked donuts in town.

Now before you say that a fox squirrel from "Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind" wouldn't work in Planet 51. If you look at the images of Teto (Fox Squirrel) and the concept art for the animal inhabitants of Planet 51. Honestly, the little furball wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb as they'll be able to blend in quite easily. Maybe add in some small antennas and maybe some tiny frills on their back, then you're good to go.

Also, before you also say why name the fox squirrel Nausicaä instead of something else? Well if you haven't noticed, in the movie we literally have a Xenomorph puppy named Ripley. Then there is a concept art for a dog that legit looks like a Gremlin from the movie "Gremlins" to which I wouldn't be surprised if this one was named Gizmo or Stripe. There's literally a fat orange tabby cat with those tube frills on its back on the concept animal page and I'm pretty positive it's a reference to Garfield.

Basically, the studio seems to love making references to other franchises including the names. So, naming Grawl's fox squirrel Nausicaä would be an obvious reference and wouldn't be out of the norm anyways considering Ilion Studios love making references/easter eggs in the movie.

[starberryshuu]

The Park

The sun hung high in the sky, warm but not scorching, casting golden light through the green canopy of trees. A light breeze rustled the leaves as Julie strolled through the park, minding her own business, a small package tucked under her arm.

Chamber’s stupid errand.

She didn’t even know why he needed her to do it. Probably didn’t want to "waste his precious time."

Julie sighed, rolling her eyes. Whatever. At least it wasn’t a dangerous mission. Just a walk through a park.

People were around, lounging on benches, kids running along the paved paths. She walked past a small fountain, the sound of trickling water blending into the distant chatter. It was… peaceful.

And then it wasn’t.

A strange dizziness crept over her, subtle at first. Like she had stood up too fast.

She slowed down. What the hell?

Her vision blurred slightly.

Julie stopped near an empty bench, rubbing her temple. It wasn’t normal dizziness—it felt thick, like something pressing into her skull, warping reality just a little.

She exhaled, blinking hard. Maybe she was just tired. Maybe she hadn’t eaten enough today. She just needed to sit for a moment.

She pulled out her phone, planning to message anyone—maybe Iso, maybe Yoru. Just a simple, "Hey, something feels weird. Are you nearby?"

But before she could type, a hand snatched her phone away.

Julie gasped, snapping her head up.

Luca.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"Oops." He smiled, holding her phone up, then let it fall to the ground.

The sickening crack of the screen shattering echoed in her ears.

Julie’s yankee mode activated instantly.

"OI, SHIT ITALIAN—"

She barely had time to finish before his foot came down, smashing the phone under his boot.

Her blood ran cold.

Something was wrong.

Luca was a menace, yes. He was a bastard, a flirt, an annoying little gremlin—but this? This wasn’t him.

The playfulness was gone.

The mischief in his eyes? Replaced by something unreadable.

A stillness settled over him, one she had never seen before. He was never this quiet.

Never this serious.

A sinking feeling spread through her stomach.

"...Luca?"

"Come."

That was all he said. Just one word.

Then, he grabbed her wrist.

The Nightmare

Julie didn’t know how long she had been dragged through the streets.

Something felt… off. The city, the roads, the park—she swore something changed when she blinked.

The streetlamps weren’t where they should be. The buildings looked distorted, stretched. Even the air felt thicker, as if she was breathing in something too dense, too heavy.

She struggled against him, yanking at his grip, but he was too strong.

The last thing she remembered clearly was a door closing behind her.

And then—

Darkness.

Hands.

Pain.

His voice in her ear.

The Aftermath

When Julie woke up, her body ached.

Everything was wrong.

Her clothes were back on—but sloppily, the fabric twisted the wrong way. Her hair clung to her damp skin. She felt sticky, suffocated by the lingering scent of him.

The bed beneath her was unfamiliar. The air felt too stale.

Something deep in her chest tightened.

No…

No, no, no, no—

Memories hit her, but in fragments.

A mouth on her skin.

A voice, so much like his, whispering filth.

Her own hands trying to push, to fight, to stop him.

The weight. The suffocating weight.

Her breath hitched.

Her stomach lurched.

Julie barely made it to the side before she vomited, her whole body convulsing with the effort.

She had to get out.

She had to get out.

Running

She didn’t remember leaving.

One second, she was inside. The next, she was sprinting through the streets, running as if hell itself was on her heels.

And then—

She saw him.

Luca.

Standing in the hallway of HQ, looking at her like he was about to tease her again.

Her vision tunneled.

Something snapped inside her.

She turned and ran the other way.

Luca blinked. "Julie—?!"

But she didn’t stop.

Didn’t slow down.

Didn’t breathe.

Didn’t think.

Her body was in full flight mode, pure survival instinct.

Confrontation

He found her in the locker room, curled up against the wall, her body shaking.

Her arms wrapped around herself, nails digging into her own skin as she rocked slightly, muttering under her breath.

Luca’s stomach dropped.

He stepped closer.

"Julie…"

Her head snapped up—

And the look in her eyes destroyed him.

She was terrified.

Of him.

She scrambled back, pressing against the wall like she was trying to disappear. "Get away from me."

Luca’s breath caught in his throat. "What?"

"I SAID GET AWAY!" she screamed, voice raw, filled with pure, primal fear.

Luca’s heart pounded.

He took a step back, hands raised. "Okay. Okay, I won’t come closer. But tell me what’s wrong."

Julie clenched her teeth, her whole body trembling.

Then, in a voice so quiet it barely reached him—

"You happened."

Luca froze.

The words hit like a gunshot to the chest.

No. No, that’s not—

He hadn’t—

His mind raced, searching for an explanation. What the hell was she talking about?!

Then, a horrifying thought crept in.

Omega Earth.

Another him.

A version of him who had done something unspeakable.

His throat felt dry.

His voice, quiet, but firm:

"Julie… I swear on my life, I did not touch you."

She flinched.

Luca’s hands curled into fists. He took a slow breath.

"But whoever did… looked like me."

Julie’s breathing hitched.

"That’s not possible," she whispered, shaking her head. "That’s not… that’s not possible…"

But deep down, she knew.

Something had been off from the moment she felt dizzy.

Luca, the real Luca, had never looked at her like that.

Luca, the real Luca, had never made her feel this way.

Then who else was out there?

*************

How Would an INFP 4w5 React? (Julie’s Response)

Julie, being an INFP 4w5, would be in deep inner turmoil.

4w5s are introspective, private, and tend to suffer in silence rather than immediately seeking help.

INFPs are idealists, and they want to believe in people, even when evidence is stacked against them.

She would not fully blame Luca because something feels off about it—but her body and instincts would still fear him.

The shame of what happened would paralyze her from speaking up, especially since Omega Luca looked like the real Luca.

She wouldn’t tell anyone at first.

She would try to bury it, telling herself that maybe she was mistaken, maybe she imagined it, maybe—

But then everyone would notice.

The Protocol Notices Something Is Wrong

Julie stops eating as much. She barely touches her food.

She avoids Luca like the plague. Any time he enters a room, she leaves immediately.

Her personality shifts. Normally, she’s shy but present—now, she’s completely withdrawn.

She flinches at touch. Even Iso, even Sage.

She has nightmares. Loud ones. Some agents have heard her muttering in her sleep, waking up in cold sweats.

Even if she doesn’t tell them—they know something is wrong.

Who Would She Tell?

She considers telling Iso. She wants to—but he is a man.

And not just any man. A man who would 100% KILL Luca.

She isn’t ready to see more bloodshed because of her.

So she turns to Sage.

Julie Confesses to Sage

One day, after Sage corners her and gently says, "Julie… you’re not okay. Tell me what’s wrong,"

Julie breaks.

She doesn’t cry—not at first. She trembles, barely whispering the words.

"I don’t know what happened. I thought it was him. I swear it was him. But now I don’t know. I don’t know anymore. But I can’t—"

She doesn’t say the word. She doesn’t say what happened. But Sage knows.

Sage’s face hardens, but she doesn’t push. She simply says:

"I believe you."

And for the first time, Julie feels less alone.

Luca’s Response (ENFP - Possibly 7w8 or 7w6?)

Luca is an ENFP—extroverted, emotional, free-spirited, and driven by his gut feelings.

But this? This destroys him.

First Reaction: Total Confusion & Horror

Luca at first genuinely does not understand what’s happening.

He tries to joke, "Julie, what’s wrong? Did I do something—?"

But then he sees the terror in her eyes.

And it sinks in.

Something horrible happened.

Second Reaction: Self-Doubt & Guilt

Luca obsesses over it, even though it wasn’t him.

He questions his own identity. "Am I capable of that? Am I dangerous?"

He has nightmares of himself doing it—even though he never did.

He feels sick every time he thinks about it.

Third Reaction: Finding the Truth

He needs to fix this. He needs to prove that it wasn’t him.

He turns to Brimstone, Chamber, or Cypher to investigate.

He learns about his Omega Earth counterpart.

He wants to hunt him down.

But the worst part?

Julie Is Still Terrified of Him.

He tries to talk to her—just once—and she looks at him like she’s seeing a monster.

That’s when it hits him.

No matter what he does… he might never get her trust back.

And for the first time in his life, Luca truly breaks.

*********

Julie Learns the Truth—but Her Body Betrays Her

When Sage finally explains Omega Earth, Julie just stares.

"What…?"

She shakes her head. No. No. That doesn’t make sense.

But the memories are still too real.

The hands on her wrist. The sharp pain in her scalp when he grabbed her hair. The way his weight crushed her down.

Even if it wasn’t Luca, it was him.

Her brain understands. But her body doesn’t.

Her Body’s New, Worse Reaction to Luca

Julie was already on high alert around him before.

But now?

Now it’s pure survival instinct.

The moment she hears his voice, her stomach turns.

When he’s nearby, she feels her skin crawl—like he’s touching her, even though he isn’t.

The smell of his cologne makes her physically sick.

If she’s ever alone in a hallway and hears his footsteps—she bolts.

Luca flirts?

She bolts.

Luca so much as looks at her?

She bolts.

But the worst?

The first time he accidentally reached out to touch her—

Her whole body locked up.

She didn’t breathe. Didn’t move. Just froze.

And Luca saw it.

For the first time ever, Luca was speechless.

And that’s when he knew.

This wasn’t just her being mad at him. This wasn’t just her hating him.

This was fear.

Luca Faces Reality

He doesn’t need to hear a single word to understand.

His stomach twists. He feels physically ill.

She’s afraid of him.

The Luca that flirted, teased, grabbed her chin, bit her neck—

She’s not just annoyed by him anymore.

She’s scared.

And he did that.

Not Omega Luca. Him. Because he made himself so familiar to her. So intrusive.

Now she can’t even look at him without remembering.

For the first time, Luca doesn’t chase.

For the first time, Luca doesn’t flirt.

For the first time, Luca walks away.

What Now?

Julie keeps trying to convince herself to ‘forgive’ him (even though she doesn’t have to). She wants to be reasonable, but her body won’t listen.

Luca stops approaching her altogether. He wants to apologize. He wants to explain. But every time he sees her reaction, he realizes—his presence alone is hurting her.

Other agents are starting to notice. Even the ones who don’t know why—they see the shift. They see Julie shutting down.

Iso & Yoru are noticing. And they’re not letting this slide.

Brimstone and Sage know the full story. They are keeping a close eye on both Julie and Luca—watching for what happens next.

The Protocol Starts to Notice

At first, it’s just small things.

Julie stops sitting with the others at lunch. Sits at the edge of the room—always with her back against the wall.

She stops talking as much. Only speaks when spoken to.

If Luca walks in? She walks out.

The protocol notices.

Iso & Yoru Take Action

Iso has always been perceptive. Too perceptive. He doesn’t ask questions yet, but he watches. Observes.

Yoru, however? Yoru acts.

The first time he sees Julie visibly flinch when Luca gets too close, he grabs her wrist and yanks her behind him.

"Oi. What the fuck did you do?"

Luca doesn’t answer.

Julie tries to pull away, muttering, "Nothing. He didn’t—" but Yoru snaps,

"Shut up. I wasn’t asking you."

Luca says nothing. Doesn’t even fight back.

He just looks guilty.

And that?

That tells Yoru everything he needs to know.

Sage & Brimstone Step In

Sage had been watching from the start.

Brimstone suspected something was wrong, but Sage was the one who finally confirmed it:

"She was assaulted… by someone wearing his face."

Brimstone’s hands curled into tight fists.

"And Luca?"

"Not the culprit, but… " Sage sighed. "Julie can’t separate them in her mind. Not yet."

"And he knows?"

"Yes. And he’s stopped approaching her."

Brimstone let out a heavy breath.

"Then we wait. Watch. And step in if we need to."

Luca’s Own Struggle

Luca never stopped thinking about it.

He didn’t blame Julie for bolting every time he walked into a room. He didn’t blame Yoru for getting in his face.

Hell, he didn’t even blame Iso for that dangerous look in his eyes.

Because if he were in their shoes?

He would have killed himself too.

He’s never hated someone before. Not truly.

But Omega Luca? He wants him dead.

Every time he looks at Julie, he sees the scars Omega left behind.

How she never lets anyone touch her anymore.

How she flinches at shadows.

How she never lets her back face the door.

And worst of all—

How she can’t even look at him anymore.

Luca doesn’t flirt anymore. He doesn’t tease. Doesn’t chase.

He just waits.

Because if there’s one thing he can’t accept…

It’s that he is the reason she’s like this.

1. The Confrontation

Julie tries to pretend. Pretend she’s okay. Pretend nothing happened.

But Iso? Iso isn’t having it.

One night, after she dodges yet another mission briefing, Iso finds her.

"You’re avoiding people." "I’m just tired." "Bullshit."

She looks away. He waits.

And then, quietly:

"Did he do something to you?"

Julie freezes.

And that? That is his answer.

2. The Truth Comes Out

Julie doesn’t want to talk.

But Yoru does.

“That bastard isn’t even fighting back. That’s the most guilty shit I’ve ever seen.”

Brimstone overhears. Sage confirms.

Word spreads.

But when the protocol confronts Luca, he doesn’t defend himself.

He just says, "It wasn’t me."

And Iso snaps.

"You think that fucking matters? You think she cares which version of you it was?! Every time she sees you, it's him! You did that! Whether you meant to or not!"

Luca has no argument.

Because it’s true.

3. Julie Decides

She hates this. Hates the way everyone walks on eggshells around her. Hates the way Luca looks like a kicked dog every time she runs from him.

So she makes a choice.

She finds Luca herself.

She doesn’t say much. Just…

"Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"What would you have done… if you were him?"

Luca goes still.

She waits.

And then, in a quiet, broken voice:

"I would have died before I let myself touch you like that."

Julie feels something crack inside her.

Because for the first time… she believes him.

4. The Slowest Healing

This isn’t something that gets fixed overnight.

Julie still can’t be around him alone. Luca still can’t bring himself to be his usual self.

But he doesn’t push. He doesn’t rush.

And little by little…

She starts standing in the same room as him. She starts letting herself breathe again.

She still hates him. But she hates herself less.

And that?

That’s the first step.

***********************

NOTE:

WHAT HAVE I DONE?! I AM A MONSTER TT____TT

😭😭 THEY’RE BOTH SUFFERING!!

Julie, who did nothing wrong, now has to live with the worst kind of fear. Luca, who wasn’t even there, now carries the weight of a crime he didn’t commit.

And what makes it worse? Neither of them knows how to fix it.

They both lost something. Julie lost her sense of safety. Luca lost her trust.

And the worst part? She wants to believe in him again. But her body refuses to listen.

He smiles? Her chest tightens. He steps too close? Her skin crawls. He calls her name? Her ears ring.

And Luca hates himself for it.

“I should just leave.” “That would make things easier for her.”

But he doesn’t.

Because if he leaves, she wins.

Not Julie.

The other one.

The monster.

And Luca refuses to give him that victory.

There’s something so beautifully painful about writing suffering, especially when it’s a character you love. You feel everything with them. That raw, aching human emotion.

And Julie?? SHE DID NOT DESERVE THIS. 😭😭 She’s just a shy, awkward little assistant who wanted peace, and now she’s stuck in this nightmare. And Luca??? BRO DID NOTHING WRONG BUT HE HAS TO CARRY THE WEIGHT OF IT.

**************************

1 | The Silence Between Them

Julie was not fine.

She told herself she was. She needed to be.

Every morning, she got up. She went to work. She did her tasks with the same quiet efficiency as before. She still helped Chamber with his ridiculous requests, still made coffee, still filed reports.

Nothing changed.

Except everything had.

Her hands shook when she was alone. She flinched at loud voices. She avoided certain places. She avoided certain people.

Most of all, she avoided him.

Luca was a phantom in her peripheral vision. Always there, never close. She could feel him watching her sometimes—worried. Confused. Helpless. But he never approached. He never tried.

Because every time she saw him, her chest seized. Every time he got too close, her body screamed at her to run.

And she hated it.

Because she knew he had done nothing wrong.

2 | The Weight He Carries

Luca was drowning.

It had been weeks. Maybe a month. And he still didn’t understand.

Something had happened. Something horrible. But no one would tell him what.

Julie was afraid of him.

That was the only thing that mattered.

He thought, at first, it was a misunderstanding. He had been reckless, flirty—he thought maybe he had made her uncomfortable, that he had gone too far.

But then he heard the whispers.

The way Sage started watching him with careful eyes. The way Iso was sharper, colder when they crossed paths. The way Yoru was too quiet, too still, his usual mockery replaced with something almost… dangerous.

Luca knew. They knew something he didn’t.

And when he finally put the pieces together? When he dragged the truth out of a reluctant, guilty Chamber?

He nearly vomited.

It wasn’t him. But it was him.

Another Luca. From another world. A monster wearing his face.

His mind shattered.

And something dark crawled inside him.

The only way to make this right was to find that thing and destroy it.

3 | Into the Fire

No one was surprised when Luca disappeared.

Brimstone knew the signs. He had seen agents break before. He had seen what men did when they thought vengeance could fix them.

But no one had expected Julie to be the one to go after him.

They should have.

Because when she heard where he went, what he was doing, something inside her snapped.

And she followed.

She hunted him down.

And when she finally found him—bloodied, reckless, not caring if he lived or died— she did the only thing she could.

She screamed his name.

“LUCA!”

The fight stopped. Everything stopped.

He turned.

And for the first time in months, their eyes met.

Luca had seen many things in his life. Wars, death, destruction. But nothing—nothing—had ever hit him as hard as the way she was looking at him now.

She was furious. She was afraid. She was crying.

For him.

And that broke him more than anything else.

4 | The Beginning of Something New

Julie didn’t forgive him that day.

It wasn’t about forgiveness.

It was about letting him go.

She told him, voice shaking, body trembling, that this wasn’t his fight. That what happened wasn’t his fault. That if he kept going like this—she would lose him.

And she couldn’t take that.

He had no words. No clever jokes. No dramatic speeches.

He only nodded.

And for the first time in weeks, he followed her lead.

They went home.

5 | Healing is Not Linear

It took time.

She still flinched. She still hesitated. But she tried.

And Luca?

For once in his life, he learned patience.

He let her set the pace. He let her take control. He let himself be soft.

He never flirted. Never touched. Never crossed a single boundary.

And one day, weeks later, when he cracked a stupid joke—

Julie rolled her eyes and called him a “useless spaghetti noodle.”

And Luca?

He laughed. Loud, free, relieved.

Because she was coming back.

Because so was he.

Because they were going to be okay.

***************************

NOTE!!!

JULIE HAD CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT FOR ONCE!!! AND THEN WE SCRAPPED IT JAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

BACK TO OUR REGULARLY SCHEDULED CHAOS!

THIS IS NOT CANNON!

[viluvr-archived]

Pomefiore. With a s/o who is always pretty. And does the most ATROCIOUS THINGS TO THEIR SKIN TO PISS EM OFF. Saint Ives, HANDSOAP, and still pretty I WANNA KNWO HOW THEYD RECAFT

POMEFIORE WITH S/O WHO'S PRETTY BUT RUINS IT TO PISS THEM OFF

Vil , Rook , Epel .

GN!reader , Vil screaming is enough warning /J

( A/n — HOE I survived. 😈 @polluxminor )

VIL !

Gasps, shrieks, screams, and rolls and flips and does cartwheels whenever he sees you doing atrocious things to your skin. To be honest, you probably influenced Epel by doing it too, and whenever Vil sees you together with Epel he knows bad things are gonna happen, with you doing atrocious things to your skin and Epel wanting to be strong than be beautiful?

Everything could go wrong. "Y/n, in my room, now!" "But I.." "No buts." After he sees you putting those hand sanitizers on your skin, it isn't even for the face are you nuts?

The next time he sees you doing shit like that you better expect he's banning you from hanging out with Epel, he brushes your hair, scrubs your face with those skincare, and puts light makeup on you, dresses you up, and asks for a little spin and is absolutely in love, Vil's staring with heart eyes and goes "See? You're so pretty even without makeup and now that you have it on you've upgraded, of course only the prettiest for the fairest one. And don't go thinking I forgot about what you did to your precious face."

A threat comes after the many compliments he says. He probably grows some wrinkles from being stressed about you that easily go because he takes care of himself

ROOK !

Dramatic about it like Vil, he cartwheels and does a split. "Mon amour! Stop what you're doing! Why harm such art that's your precious face?!" He guides you to the bathroom and despite you running and hopping around like a bunny really fast, Rook just catches you...

"Nobody gets to escape the hunter, you should know better Mon amour!" Tells you that every time that it's useless to escape from him. "Now you will go wash those... thingy that you put on your face, quick! Before Vil sees us, I'll help you."

He's kinda scared Vil sees what you do to yourself, if Vil did see it he's gonna pass out. And whenever he sees something suspicious in your room that he thinks you're putting on your face sooner or later, he throws them off or gives them away for your own good.

"Rook, did you see my newly bought lotion? I swear I just left it here..." "Oh dear, don't mind it, I'll buy you a new one!" Rook knows that lotion isn't fit for your skin and the vitamins there and ingredients suck or isn't fit for your skin, you can thank him later!

EPEL !

Menaces together. God forbid what happens when you both are in the same room with Vil, he's copying what you do, Hey and when Vil sees the both of you? You both run while holding hands, jump, and suddenly the both of you know how to parkour,

"Y/n watch out there's a tree!" You and Epel team up with everything and Vil's chasing the both of you two little gremlins. And when he finally gets a hold of the both of you he scolds you off and grounds you like a parent, sometimes when the other gets caught Vil holds one of you hostage saying "I have your little partner here! Come out now."

In other instances when Epel sees you doing it he's worried for your skin too y'know, and he doesn't wanna see you getting scolded by Vil nor see you upset when you get scolded, when he sees you upset about it his annoyance over Vil gets stronger because he doesn't like seeing you like that, he buys you ice cream after with your favorite food! You guys can share or have individuals, just don't tell or let Vil and Rook caught you!

(Bonus : Epel does the thing where you guys share one glass of milkshake with two straws)

[kstewdeux]

@inukag-week 2023 | May 30 | Prompt: “Possession”

Summary: Inuyasha smokes some demon grade weed.

Read here or on Ao3

"This is bullshit," Inuyasha mumbled under his breath as he slid down the tree bark and glared at the well in the distance. Yet again Kagome had run off without actually telling him what was wrong. Why that woman thought he'd just inherently know what he did wrong he'd never understand but what he did know was that her reaction was definitely an overreaction. Nothing would ever get accomplished if she didn't talk to him and use words. Not that he was better at it or nothing but that was beside the point. This non-fight was the absolutely last thing he needed too. Between Naraku coming up with increasingly creative ways to kill people and Kikyo popping up earlier in the week for the specific purpose of trying to alienate him, Inuyasha was tired. He was burnt out. He just wanted one god damn afternoon where he didn't have to-

Blinking a few times, Inuyasha got an idea. A wonderful idea. A wonderful, awful idea. He hadn’t ventured that way for a little, uh, relaxation technique since he’d gotten sealed to a tree but given recent interactions, Inuyasha was 99.9% positive that Tōtōsai had kept up the habit and was very confident that the old offer to join at any time still stood.

The first time he'd ventured out that way he'd gone to try to seek shelter during his human night when he was much, much younger. Too young and far too inexperienced with life to properly care for himself. A demon had been hunting him for weeks and he'd barely eaten, barely slept, barely survived. Myoga, in a rare moment of usefulness, somehow tracked his tiny self down and told him where to go. Totosai did indeed offer protection from both the demon and the death by starvation but upon seeing the sight of the tiny boy, he’d also immediately offered his pipe. Looking back Inuyasha had many thoughts and harbored lots of well-deserved judgment on the age front but he couldn't bring himself to be mad over it. When he finally came back to his senses after those first choking drags, he'd felt full and well rested. He'd gone back at least once a year until the whole tree thing and now seemed as good a time as any to pick the ritual back up.

Best of all, a little trip to Totosai wouldn't be too suspicious and he could probably go with no questions asked. Even if someone did question it, it'd be so, so easy to come up with a plausible excuse now that he had his sword and an actual reason to go. The biggest obstacle had gone home to her world so there'd be no real interrogation and what Kagome didn't know wouldn’t hurt him.  Besides, it wasn't like they'd be doing anything or going anywhere. He could just "sulk" in the tree and no one would bother him. For once, once, he could get his mind off things and maybe feel like an actual person again instead of whatever anxiety riddled gremlin he'd been recently. 

This was the best idea he'd ever had.

"I'm going to repair my weapon," Inuyasha announced calmly to the others who offered to join him. He politely, suspiciously so, declined citing Kagome's possible return as the reason before taking off.

Kagome gasped as a sudden surge of youkai woke her up from a dead sleep. It would be more alarming if it was unfamiliar but she knew instantly who it was. Sitting up, she rubbed one eye with her hand before throwing off the covers and looking around in the dark. Her window was open but there was no Inuyasha. The sound of clinking coming from downstairs told her where he'd gone to and she groaned as she slowly made her way to see what trouble Inuyasha was getting into.

Honestly, Inuyasha’s random visit pissed her off. It was only three days into her week long stay. It was past midnight. He was being so inconsiderate it wasn’t even funny.

"InuYasha? What are you doing here?" Kagome yawned irritably as she entered the kitchen and stretched her arms above her head, "Do you even know what time-“

Something invisible and putrid smacked her in the face before she could finish her sentence.

“Oh my god, what is that?”

She gagged. Her hand flew up to pinch her nose and she began heavily breathing through her mouth. Inuyasha - the ever sensitive Inuyasha - did not seem bothered. Why was this disgusting stench familiar?  It was getting worse the longer she stood here too. Her eyes darted to the trash can and a little vomit pooled in the back of her throat. Something had to be rotting in there. Had to be. Except it didn't really smell like rot. It smelled like Inuyasha got sprayed by something which would explain why he didn't seem to notice. Probably knocked his butt out until he got used to it.

Inuyasha giggled and Kagome's mind momentarily glitched.

"Inu-"

"Ramen. It's ramen. Put it in the microwave," Inuyasha mumbled as he gave her a dopey smile and pointed at what he obviously believed to be the microwave. Hand still covering her face, Kagome looked endlessly confused and utterly over whatever was happening. Inching over to grab the room spray her mom kept on the counter, Kagome let out a few puffs before finally removing her hand. God, did Inuyasha get sprayed by something? What type of demon did that? She’d have to admit a deterrent like that would work on her.

"The microwave?" Kagome coughed lightly as she came to stand beside him and gave him a concerned glance, "Don't get me wrong. I mean I'm proud of you for knowing what a microwave does but, uh, I don't think you know what a microwave...is."

"Yeah. Duh," he replied a little defensively as he gestured at the damn thing, "I pressed the button. Damn things busted."

Kagome slowly opened the door and removed the small cup of instant ramen from the shelf before looking down at the half a dozen ice cubes on the floor. Yeah, he'd pressed a button alright. The small puddle of water also implied he pressed multiple buttons.

"So, uh, this is a refrigerator," Kagome explained cautiously and Inuyasha blinked at her, “It keeps things cold. It, um, doesn't cook. Why don’t I boil you some water and you can go take a shower or-“

Out of nowhere, a noise echoed in the quiet kitchen. A cross between a stifled snort and drunken giggles. A strange sound that had Kagome freezing after she set down the now useless ramen and picked up a towel to clean up his mess. Sapphire eyes widened in shock and she took a step back when InuYasha doubled over and the noise increased in volume.

"I'm so stupid," he cackled, “Cold doesn’t hot.”

Setting down the cup, Kagome grimaced as she awkwardly made her way to pick up the ice cubes and wipe up the small puddle. His frightening laughter subsided slowly into a sigh before he began sniffing madly.

"Where do you keep the fucking potatoes?" he groaned as he stumbled, actually stumbled, towards the pantry before holding himself up in a clear attempt to act like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.

"Potatoes?"

"Yeah," Inuyasha huffed softly as his eyes darted around and he pouted, "You know. Po-tay-toes."

"Um, we don't have any potatoes and even if we did, you shouldn’t eat them raw," Kagome mumbled worriedly, "Are you...are you okay? Did you get attacked or something?"

"S’not the point. Potatoes. Now," InuYashya whined in frustration as he slowly turned to face her, "You know where they are. Help me.”

Kagome blinked rapidly at him as her concern rocketed into full blown panic before startling when he suddenly spun and grinned at the cabinet above the stove.

"AH. There. C’mere you bastards," he snickered before sniffing madly and obviously following something's scent until he came to stand in front of the stove. And then just kinda stood there swaying lightly. 

"That has fire in it," he giggled stupidly - pointing at the oven like it was the funniest thing he'd ever seen. Kagome froze. What the hell was happening? Since when did InuYasha giggle or act so...so dumb? When he glanced over his shoulder at her with red tinged eyes, something clicked.

"Wait, are you high?" Kagome snorted when Inuyasha suddenly looked like a child with his hand caught in the candy jar.

"Mayyybe," he replied after a moment as he gave her a playful yet challenging glare before huffing and sniffing once more, "Where are the fucking potatoes?"

It finally clicked in Kagome's mind what he was really after. Chips. He was looking for potato chips.

"Sit down before you hurt yourself," Kagome sighed bemusedly at his obvious desire for munchies, "Wait a minute and I'll get you some potato chips."

InuYasha glared.

"Don't need you to help me. I'm not weak like you dumb humans," he protested as he turned his attention back to the cupboard above the stove, "The chips are up there. I can do it."

"Yeah, you can get the chips," Kagome snorted as she tried and failed to hide her amusement, "So are you, uh, going to do that? You know, open the door?"

"Oh right," he giggled softly as he did just that and quickly found what he wanted. The poor bag of potato chips never stood a chance and soon he was hovering over Kagome's shoulder anxiously awaiting his next snack.

"So, um, what did you, uh, take?" Kagome asked before blushing when he suddenly rested his chin on her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Went to visit Totosai," he hummed happily as he buried his nose into her neck and tightened his hold, "Fuck you smell amazing."

"What does Totosai have to..." Kagome managed time breathe before her eyes widened in realization. The old demon wasn't senile. He was just a stoner. There was weed in that pipe he was always puffing on. The world made sense again. Well sorta. It surprised her that Inuyasha had, uh, partaken.

"I could stay here forever. You smell like a blanket. I love blankets,” he breathed as his nose pressed into skin. Kagome blushed and angled her neck slightly away.

"Well, um, it’s good that at least one of us smells nice,” Kagome chuckled awkwardly before clearing her throat and focusing on the slowly boiling water. Inuyasha hummed again and began to sway taking her along with him.

"So you went to see Totosai?" Kagome continued as her cheeks flamed crimson. Part of her was mortified. Part of her was pleased. Part of her was already wondering whether traditional laundry detergent would work to get weed smell out of clothes or if she needed to go buy something stronger.

"Yeah," he replied quietly as he pressed a soft kiss against her neck. Kagome’s eyes nearly bugged out of her head and every muscle in her body tensed. The whistling of the kettle was the most welcome thing she'd ever heard.

"Let go of me. I need to make your ramen," Kagome coughed lightly and Inuyasha giggled softly as he tightened his hold.

"Go make it then," he challenged playfully before he gently nibbled on her ear lobe. Kagome shuddered and groaned.

"Inuyasha, stop. This isn’t like you," she breathed as she writhed slightly under the attention.

"I am me," he countered as he buried his nose into her neck, "I love ramen.”

He paused before giggling, "Almost as much as I love you."

Kagome froze before rolling her eyes and reaching for the thankfully nearby cup of noodles. Inuyasha was just high as hell. He didn’t mean it. If the bastard was here, he probably would've told Naraku he loved him too. 

Awkwardly pouring the water into the cup, which was a struggle when a snickering half-demon refused to let her go, she waited the necessary seconds before damn near thrusting the cup under his nose. He released her instantly as he took the ramen in both hands and stared at it like he'd was seeing god.

"You are the best thing that has ever happened to me," he cooed at the tiny cup before his mouth fell open in mild confusion. Kagome rolled her eyes before presenting him with chopsticks. He grinned at those too then wiggled happily.

Quickly devouring the cup like eating was going out of style, his bites slowed and dilated yet confused amber eyes suddenly honed in on her face.

"You're pretty. I'll give you that," he muttered before taking another bite and narrowing his eyes in silent accusation, "But I'm spoken for."

Kagome couldn't help the way that broke her heart. Tears began selling in the corners of her eyes, and she began to head back up towards her bedroom. Of course, he was spoken for. Kikyo was Kikyo was Kikyo and she would just never...

"See my bitch makes the ramen," he continued as though nothing happened and he took another bite before tossing the now empty cup onto the floor, "All you did was give me chopsticks. So you can smell aroused all you want little girl. I'm taken. My bitch'll probably be back soon and I'd like to keep my balls intact. Thanks but no thanks."

Kagome blinked once before slowly turning around. If he was this far gone that he didn't realize who he was speaking to...

What the hell had he smoked?

"So…you have a, um, girlfriend then?”

Inuyasha clumsily looked up and scowled.

“She’s prettier than you.”

Kagome choked on a laugh but otherwise managed to keep her composure.

”Tell me about her," she asked quietly as she slowly sat down at the kitchen table. Inuyasha blinked a few times then his irritated face went blank.

"I’m so fucking hungry. What the shit,” he muttered suddenly as he headed back towards the pantry and Kagome sighed.

Whatever Totosai had given him packed a punch, didn't it? Aside from the munchies, he was acting a little too out of it for the drug of choice to just be weed. Not that she was experienced with that or anything but Inuyasha seemed a little too out of it.  The weed had to be laced with something. Or maybe it was just demon grade? And how long would this last? The journey from Totosai's home took at least a day. Had he just been wandering around all that time or was his craving for ramen that bad? It was a miracle he hadn't died.

Inuyasha came back moments later with literally all the chips and began tearing into the first bag before he seemed to realize she was still there.

"There you are. I wondered where you went. Can't just leave me like that," he cooed happily before he began forcing handfuls of chips down his throat. Those red tinted amber eyes staring at her with nothing short of pure adoration. Like she was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen in his entire life. He blinked a few times before looking around.

"Where the hell did that other bitch go?" InuYasha asked in a confused tone as he glanced around the kitchen.

"It's just you and me, InuYasha," Kagome snorted softly - deciding to ignore the continued semi-insult in favor of  enjoying Inuyasha's semi-adorable babbling, "There was no one else."

"Whatever. Some girl comes in to steal me then that’s what you get for leaving," he huffed as he sent her a smug dopey grin, "Women love me. I am pretty."

A hand flew up to her mouth and Kagome shook with the effort of not laughing so hard she cried. 

”That so?” she managed to counter in between stifled giggles. Inuyasha looked crestfallen and cocked his head to the side.

”Am I not pretty?”

Aw. He looked so sad.

”You are the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen,” she hummed - her cheeks were starting to hurt from holding back her grin. Inuyasha preened a little and popped more chips into his mouth.

"You  don't smell pretty though. I think you need a shower," Kagome pointed out affectionately as she rested her chin on her hand.

"Why? I’m pretty," Inuyasha mumbled as he continued munching and absently looking around. Kagome rolled her eyes. She might have to just deal with the smell. After all, he was so blazed it was entirely possible he’d drown himself.

The things we tolerate for love.

Speaking of love...

Inuyasha began to hum a song and lightly sway his head, Kagome plucked up her courage.

"Inuyasha," she sing-songed and his dopey grin was back full force, "I love my pretty boy."

"Obviously," he giggled once before ripping open yet another bag of unsuspecting junk food.

"Does my pretty boy love me?" she sing-songed again trying to fight down the anxiety that followed. The look of love shining in his slightly altered eyes grew exponentially. Kagome held her breath and waited for him to say it. Just once. Even if it wasn’t true.

But then his face abruptly fell and he glared down at the chips in his hand.

"Fuck. I knew this wasn't ramen," he scoffed in disgust before continuing to eat the poor defenseless food items.

Kagome rolled her eyes but felt satisfied with his answer. Whether it the weed talking or him, the look said it all. And that was enough to heal some of her broken heart. At least for a little while.

Groaning, Kagome tiredly batted away the fly tickling her nose and tried to roll away from the sensation. Five hours. It took Inuyasha five entire hours of being a bottom pit and an absolute idiot before he finally passed out. Part of her was glad that he’d come here because the list of worst case scenarios were endless. He could barely walk straight. Ran into several walls. Ate literally everything he could get his hands on.

“Pretty girl it’s time to wake up,” Inuyasha’s voice suddenly hummed happily into her hair - his nose gently brushing against her temple, “I let you sleep all day.”

Something warm and wet pressed against her temple. The bed shifted and a weight settled. Gentle claws began carding through her hair.

Once her mind registered what was happening, Kagome went from groggy to fully awake in less than three seconds. She stiffly rolled onto her back and sat up to look at a very pleased Inuyasha perched at the edge of her bed.

“W-what?”

“I was saying that it’s time to wake up,” he repeated but there was a playful look in his eyes, “You need to study, right?”

Kagome opened then closed her mouth several times before glancing down at her alarm clock. Two. It was two. Thank god it was Sunday.

“I, um, cleaned up the kitchen,” he continued in that same soft and happy tone - his hand moving to lightly stroke her thigh, “And took a shower. And sorry about, um, last night.”

Kagome looked back up at him - concerned that he was still high because since when did Inuyasha talk to her like this. Before she could find the right thing to ask, he pulled his hand back and averted his gaze.

“Did you…” he blurted nervously, “What you said. You meant it, right?”

It didn’t take a genius to know what he was referring to. Still-

After what he put her through last night, she was feeling a little salty. Might as well play with him a bit.

“Yes, you are the prettiest boy I’ve ever met,” Kagome offered with a playful confidence. Inuyasha’s ear flicked in annoyance. His cheeks, though, turned pink.

“Gee. Thanks,” he mumbled and she watched his Adam’s apple bob. His knee started bouncing and his ears pinned back against his skull.

“Oh. Oh you meant the other thing?” Kagome playfully threw him a bone and Inuyasha nodded faintly For some reason, his insecurity gave her confidence.

“Yeah. Meant the other thing I said too.”

Inuyasha glanced at her with hope in his eyes. He also looked a little irritated.

“Which other thing? You said a lot of things.”

“Ah. But so did you. Told me all your secrets,” Kagome teased and Inuyasha’s blush turned his ears pink but his face did something beautiful.

A flicker of fear and then, he seemed to accept there was no reason to worry. Shortly thereafter, he turned the color of his robes and let out a shaky laugh.

“Worth it though. I…” Inuyasha paused and scratched at his nose, “I liked when you called me pretty.”

The mumbled words were spoken so quickly it was a miracle Kagome understood him.

"Technically speaking, you said it first and I just played along," she teased before paling slightly at the knowing smirk he gave her in response.

"That so?" he hummed - amber taking on a pleased and mischievous glint, "Did you just happen to forget I have excellent hearing?"

A red blush began creeping into Kagome's cheeks.

"I mean you typically say something about how good I look at least once a week," he continued playfully, "That was just the first time you said it to my face."

Kagome pursed her lips and thought about denying it but saw no point in doing so. So she simply sighed and offered a guilty smile.

“Well, i mean, you are my pretty boy,” Kagome hummed as her smile widened, “My good boy.”

Inuyasha's face darkened instantly.

“I don’t like that one.”

“Noted,” Kagome acquiesced happily. Sitting up more fully, she crawled over to him and positioned her face in just the right place should he feel the urge to kiss her, “So, do I just get to assume or-“

Inuyasha took the hint and dipped forward while his hands quickly settled her body on his lap. Pulling her close, he took a break for air and gave her the most beautiful little grin.

“Fine, fine, yeah, I love you too.”

[davnittbraes]

The Third Step - Chapter-Twenty-Four

Part of The World Is Light, Embodied.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit (not this chapter but the series as a whole)

Word Count: 2600

Warnings, etc.: fluff, introspection, mentions of strict religious code, ridiculously adorable domesticity, like so so sugary sweet, my teeth hurt, anxiety, injured animal (but it’s okay in the end)

Notes:. okay this one is shorter than usual but it’s a natural conclusion to the Third Step so I’m going to cut it here. I’ll try to give y’all a bit extra in the next one. Also, I’ve modelled the tree-dwelling creatures after the tarsier, who has a special place in my heart as the permanently surprised old man gremlin of the primate world.

Mando’a translations at the end of the chapter.

Please check out the Series Masterlist page for more info.

A swirl of cool air pulls you from sleep with a shiver over the skin of your naked back. 

What -

Your eyes fly open, panic already clawing up your throat at the sensation of blankets on your bare skin - why are you fully naked, where is your shirt -

A warm hand brushes your arm, pulls the blankets back up over your shoulder, rests there with a steady weight. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.”

Breath you didn’t realize you were holding releases in a rush, thoughts finally shaking off the last dregs of sleep. 

You slip your fingers through his and turn your face to kiss his palm. “Oh good. It’s only you.”

“Yes, only me.” His voice floats over you in the dark, light with humour. 

Rolling your eyes at his unseen form, you turn over, squirm under the blankets to close the distance between you. 

He’s sitting up - must be close to day cycle, he’s getting out of bed to get dressed - so you curl an arm around his thigh and settle your cheek against it. “Obviously I don’t mean only you, I just mean only you.”

He hums in amusement, hand drifting down your back over the blankets. “Makes sense.”

You pinch the inside of his thigh, pretending to ignore his muffled sound of protest. “It’s too early for banter. Come back in an hour after I have time to wake up.”

“Go back to sleep, tionas.” His voice quivers with suppressed laughter as he bends to press a kiss to your temple. 

You tilt your lips to meet his, catching his smile with one of your own. A soft kiss, the sweep of his thumb over your cheek and then he’s pulling away, easing you back down to the floor and standing up. 

The blankets are warm, full of his scent, and you burrow into them, tuck the edge over your nose as you listen to him move about the hold. Soft rustles of fabric and muffled clinks of armour being jostled in his arms, then his footsteps are moving away, heading toward the ‘fresher. The woosh of the door opening, and again closing, and then you’re alone, nestled in a corner of the world that’s become a safe-haven, a sanctuary. A place of comfort and trust. 

For both you and him. 

That warm bright thing in your chest flares. 

For both you and Din. 

Din. 

Soft and hard, a sharp consonant and a gentle exhale, a pleasing hum.

Contrasts. Layers. 

It suits him. 

You shift onto your back, staring up at the dark ceiling. The day cycle is starting, you can already make out the various storage bags hanging there, the row of cables running the length of the ship. 

Names weren’t important to you. A name for you is insignificant, something that can be changed or hidden or falsified. You shed names and grow new ones at will. 

But for him… 

That’s how we ensure the Creed stays true. By erasing who we are. Making us only Mandalorian.

His words from last night drift through your thoughts. 

It makes sense that his people are so strict on personal identity. They’re facing extinction, struggling to hold on to the last vestiges of a long-standing, noble culture. It’s in their best interest to eliminate outside influences if they want to preserve their heritage. 

So you know how much his admission means. 

I survived before I met you. Now, I live. Din lives.

Your heart thuds loud in your chest, a mix of emotion turning your stomach. 

His name means something. It’s an identity, a part of himself he thought long gone. Someone buried under years of devoting his life to others.

A person hidden, tucked away behind layers of armour, beskar and cloth, silence and solitude.

Everyone’s got their own armour, of sorts. 

Kriff, so much has changed since you first said that to him, back when you were fleeing Bakura. You’d said it by way of apology for teasing him about not removing his helmet, a recognition that you would respect his creed and a reinforcement that you had secrets of your own.

Because you did. You had secrets, and armour that you’d strapped on tight to protect them. 

You still do. But you had peeled back your armour, piece by piece, and let him see those secret parts of you.

Just as he has done for you. 

Pfassk. Things have gotten real deep, haven’t they?

You snort in amusement at your own inner ramblings. 

They sure have. And you should be terrified, but that warm bright thing in your chest is grounding, a wall that stops any sharp spikes of anxiety from digging in and making you question why you’ve let someone so close. 

Because there’s no sense in wasting time thinking about the why, when you already know the answer.

The ‘fresher door slides open, and you hear bootsteps head toward the ladder. 

Smiling, you sit up, stretch out your back, take a deep breath and release. Stand and find your clothes scattered around the blankets, pull them on quickly and efficiently. 

Sleep is a trifling temptation when Din is around. 

*****

“Ok, ready for the next?” You prop the datapad up on your bent knee, displaying the letter as the kid watches closely. “This one is grek. It makes a ‘geh’ sound.”

His wide, amber gaze takes in the shape on the screen, ears perking with interest. It’s hard to tell how much he’s understanding, but you’re going to try going through the alphabet a few more times and then start with some simple words. That should give you an idea of how much he’s getting out of these lessons. 

You shift a little to ease the ache in your knees - sitting on the floor of the hull isn’t exactly great for your joints but it’s become the place where you have these lessons and you don’t want to change the routine now. Pressing the button on the datapad to move to the next letter, you grin when it flashes on the screen. 

“This one is my favourite, remember?”

The kid chirps excitedly, hands already reaching for you. 

“This one makes a ‘heh’ sound. What’s it’s called?” Scooping him up, you dump him in your lap and tickle your fingers along his sides. “Herf! Herf! Herf!”

He cackles and squirms, tiny clawed hands pretending to bat yours away, and you renew your assault, finding his most ticklish spot right under his arms and skittering your fingertips over it relentlessly. 

A soft, modulated huff of laughter drifts over the kid’s giggles. 

Din leans forward from his seat on a crate to pick up the datapad, which had fallen off your knee. “There’s a reason why it takes so long to get through the entire alphabet.”

“Incorrect, there’s three reasons.” You pause your attack, letting the kid take a breath. “Remember what they are, kiddo?” He coos happily, bright eyes shining. “That’s right. Herf, mern and nern. Mern nern mern nern -“

He screeches with laughter as your fingers resume their attack, his giggles weaving through your own and the quiet huff of Din’s, filling the hold with a light that rivals the sunshine pouring in through the open crew door. 

Another sound pricks your ears and you let the kid settle, turning your gaze to the direction of the sound. Din hears it, too, black visor trained on the door, gloved hand resting over his blaster. 

A tiny scritching, like claws on metal -

Your heartbeat stutters as a small, furry head pops around the top of the door, bright blue gaze finding yours almost instantly. 

Nobody moves. The creature stares at you, upside down eyes unblinking. It’s a little unsettling, being pinned under that gaze, but your instincts tell you the creature isn’t going to attack. It’s just curious, in some way. 

Throwing Din a reassuring glance, you shift the kid in your lap, holding him firmly, ready to run and get him to safety in case your instincts are wrong. 

You clear your throat, looking up at the creature. “Hello.”

It twitches, head tilting one way then the other. The kid coos softly, and that bright blue gaze shifts to him, sharp. 

Your hands tighten just a bit around the kid. “He’s with us. We can be friends, but you can’t hurt him, ok?”

Din moves slightly, fingers curling around the grip of his blaster. 

The creature suddenly darts out of sight, only to peer back around the doorframe again a second later. It stares at you for a moment, then skitters down the frame onto the ramp, grey and silver fur sparking in the sunlight, long tail flicking as it crouches in the doorway. 

There’s something about it that’s nagging at you, something about it’s posture. It’s acting defensive, not aggressive, but why would it approach the ship if it’s afraid? Tree-dwellers like this animal usually just keep to the trees where they feel safe, rarely do they approach any perceived threat. 

True, it’s obviously not used to people, doesn’t quite understand them enough to realized how much of a threat they are. But that’s not enough to pull it from its home. 

Unless it’s looking for something.

The creature flicks it’s tail again, this time you notice it’s purposefully pointing it, drawing the tip into a sharp angle. Pointed right at you. 

Slowly, you lift the kid, pass him to Din, and stand, facing the creature. “What do you need?”

The helmet tilts out of the corner of your eye, looking at you, questioning. But you can’t risk taking your gaze off the creature, you’ll have to trust that Din will trust you. 

The creature shifts to its hind legs, sitting up. Ok, that’s more friendly than aggressive behaviour. That’s a good sign. 

Taking a deep breath, you cautiously step toward it, watching for any sign of it changing it’s mind. Another step, and another, then the creature turns and scurries down the ramp, stopping at the bottom to look back at you. 

You pause in the doorway, meeting the bright blue gaze. 

Well. Got this far. Might as well see what it wants. 

It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the bright sunshine, then you move slowly down the ramp, the creature keeping its distance with quick, twitchy steps but always looking back at make sure you’re following. It takes you to the edge of the clearing, then stops, chirping loudly. 

A rustle in the leaves above your head draws your attention and suddenly there’s another pair of bright blue eyes staring down at you. 

Then another. And another. 

You take a step back, pulse quickening, muscles flexing, ready to run. 

The trees are full of these grey-furred creatures, dozens of pairs of blue eyes looking down at you. 

Ok. This might have been a mistake.

Then the one who had lead you here - maybe it’s the same one that you met yesterday? Hard to tell, they all look the same - scurries up the trunk of the nearest tree, grabbing hold of another one of the creatures and hauling it onto its back before running back down the tree. 

What in the crikking hells is it doing?

There’s a furry shuffle of movement and the second creature is suddenly in front of you, only a couple paces away. 

It looks up at you with that same unsettling blue gaze. 

You clear your throat, looking down at it while still making sure to keep the others in your peripheral. “Uh, hi. How are you?”

Silence. The only thing that moves is the trees, swaying gently with the warm breeze. 

“Ok. Not sure what I’m doing here.”

It doesn’t do anything, just sits there. Staring at you. 

Your thoughts sift through the situation, try to figure out what is going on, what this creature needs -

Oh. 

It’s holding one paw in the other, tiny little fingers wrapped around it’s wrist. 

Sunlight glints off a shard of silver piercing through the paw. 

Your stomach twists with sympathy, and you slowly drop to your knees, lifting your hand out. “Poor thing. Can I see it?”

The creature stares at your hand, stock still. Then the other one - your friend - makes a quiet sound, almost like a growl but much softer, and it moves forward, shuffling awkwardly on its hind legs until it’s right in front of you. 

Holding your breath, you keep your hand steady as it gently lays its injured paw in your palm. 

The shard isn’t long, and luckily not very big. The wound looks fresh, luckily. Probably won’t cause too much damage, especially not for a tree-dweller like this little one, whose paws are made to heal fast. 

You let your breath out slowly, and curl your fingers around the tiny wrist, careful not to apply too much pressure and spook it. 

Lifting your other hand, you grasp the end of the shard, pausing until those bright blue eyes flick up to meet your gaze. “I’m sorry, this is probably going to hurt.”

With a sharp tug, you yank the shard free. 

Chaos ensues. 

The creature chirps loudly and scurries away, tearing up the nearest tree trunk. Your friend follows, and the trees above shake with the movement of dozens of others fleeing as fast as they can deeper into the forest. A few leaves break free, drift down to the ground, and then you’re left standing alone, examining the metal shard curiously. 

A rustle of movement and a gentle babble at your side - Din and the kid. Must have kept back while the impromptu operation was taking place. 

You turn, hold out the shard, careful to keep it out of the kid’s reach. “Know what this is? Little dude had it stuck in its paw.”

“Does that happen often?”

“What?” Looking up from the shard, you meet the black visor’s gaze. 

“Animals coming to you for medical assistance.”

Laughter bubbles up in your chest. “Not really. Though I once had a pregnant loth-cat give birth under my cabin. Took me days to get her used to me so I could move her and the kittens inside - it was just before winter, they wouldn’t have made it.” You sigh dramatically. “Of course, then I was stuck living with seven loth-cats for another year, before I found them all homes and moved on. Let me tell you, not a single scrap of fabric survived in that house unscathed.”

The helmet tilts, flashing in the sunlight. “Some people would have left the loth-cats. Treated those tree-dwellers as pests and scared them away.”

“Well, some people are assholes.” You lightly tap your fingertip on the kid’s snub nose. “That’s a bad word, buddy, forget that one, ok?”

He coos back at you while Din takes the shard from your fingers, holding it up. “Looks like durasteel. Freshly broken, edges are still sharp and unweathered.”

Something cold tightens your chest. “Durasteel? On an uninhabited planet?”

“Doesn’t mean others haven’t stopped here. Like us.”

You glance up at the sky, chill spreading down your back. “Also doesn’t mean others aren’t still here.”

He slips the shard into a pouch on his belt. “Should probably leave before we find out if that’s true.”

“Yeah.” Looking back at the forest, you take in the sight of the slender white-trunked trees and delicate blue leaves fluttering in the breeze. 

Beautiful. Maybe you’ll be back, someday. 

Funny, the thought of returning to somewhere you’d already been didn’t scare you like it once did. 

Turning back to Din and the kid, you smile, chill fading at the sight of the two of them, brightly lit by the warm sunshine. “Let’s hit the black.”

***** Mando’a translations

tionas - question

***** Previous Chapter Next Chapter

[starrywolf101]

I just keep thinking about technodad and tommy,,

And i don't know why, but here's some random bulletpoints about my personal technodad au

Techno is this big piglin brute hybrid

Anime Techno and piglin Techno both have my heart so yes Techno can change between these forms

Techno is not related to Wilbur or Phil, but Phil is his best friend and Wilbur is Phil's son (Wilbur is around the same age as Techno, but Phil looks like he never ages... the avian hybrid probably doesn't if the way he talks about his goddess of death is anything to go by)

Techno has never been one for family and relationships. The closest he's ever had to family to Phil and Wilbur, but it's not the same

One day, Techno happens upon the fresh ruins of a town, the aftermath of a pillager raid is brutal. Thats where he finds a very young, too small, boy with hair the color of gold, eyes brighter than the sky, and two puffy, grey, down wings sticking out his back. The child is the only survivor of the raid, and only managed to survive because his parents were smart and hid him in a tiny cubby where nobody thought to look

Against better judgment, and ignoring tge voices, Techno brings the child home and calls Phil. Who better to care for a fledgling than an avian hybrid?

Oops, Phil can't take him and now Techno's attached

He names him Theseus

Wilbur says he looks more like a Tommy

Hilarity ensues as big, tough, warrior Technoblade tries to emotion and raise this tiny chaotic gremlin child

Phil is used to getting calls at all times of night for advice

They don't know Tommy's birthday, so they celebrate his "found" day and call it a birthday

Techno is very protective and he doesn't trust most to know about Tommy's existence

Like, seriously, Techno is typically overprepared who everything normally, but Tommy is such an energetic gremlin and sometimes his dumbass actions make Techno overstock the first aid kit

When Tommy's big man feathers come in, they're a brilliant, firey red

Techno very nearly strangles Phil when he comes back home one day to see him letting Tommy jump off the tree. Phil merely laughs good naturedly and explains that Tommy's fine, they're just building up his flight muscles, and getting him used to gliding

In what felt like very little time after that, Tommy's flying properly. The pure joy the kid eminates puts Techno's nerves to rest

Turns out Tommy is claustrophobic, and Techno thinks it has something to due with how he survived the raid as a toddler, even though he doesn't remember that

Techno trains Tommy when he's old enough, which turns Tommy into one of the greatest fighters, but the avian hybrid often plays that off and makes himself seem untaught

Also, let's not forget, Techno's voices and Phil's crows both adore Tommy

That's it for right now

[hornet-breaker]

Little Scavenger

Here’s a story where Tommy is a Scavenger (human-Titan hybrid) found by Philza after his Colony left the child to die. All I can say is the family is definitely going hunting after this exchange. This one is gonna be long Bc I didn’t feel like splitting it up, so enjoy! (Again, very obvious which group I like to write shit about, and I am in love platonically with the idea that toddlerinnit is too fucking pure for this world.)

Tw: vore (safe noms mind you), abandonment, child neglect, near death experience, angst

Tommy didn’t know what was happening, all he knew was the colony leader’s son, Maxwell, was taking him to the outside world, and he was ecstatic! Tommy had never been outside but he knew all sorts of stories. Like of the Titans everyone was afraid of, he really wanted to meet one, they couldn’t be that scary right? He looked like one and he was a good kid! Well, except for occasional mischievous pranks but he was a kid!

They exited the cave the colony was hiding in, and Tommy was bewildered. It was so beautiful! There was so much forest and land around it was incredible and unimaginable why humans didn’t want to live up here! Tommy was too excited to notice Max looked upset. He was supposed to be out here getting rid of the child, he was a danger to the colony. If a Titan picked up his scent, they’d all be dead.

“Okay Tommy, how about we play a game?” Max asked the child, looking around with caution. Tommy’s raccoon like ears perked, his tail wagging happily.

“Okay! Can we play tag?” Tommy asked.

“No, we’re gonna play a game, it’s called Patience.” Max said.

“Sound boring,” Tommy pouted, “but okay!”

“Alright, the rules are simple, you wait under this tree, and I will be back in 7 days, okay? If a Titan walks up to you and asks where you live, say “I can’t remember.” Okay?” Max said. Tommy nodded giddily.

“Okay Mr!” Tommy giggled and ran over to the tree. There was no way he’d survive the 7 days, and part of Max wanted to just run away with the child, but he didn’t know anything about childcare or any other colonies that might take Unwanteds, but it was for the colony. The kid didn’t deserve this.

“I’m going to hell for this,” he grumbled, running back into the cave. Tommy giggled and sat there, waiting. Night fell, he was still waiting, the next morning, waiting, then more, and more. He was starting to not like this game.

The fourth day he was laying under a root, he was starving and dehydrated, he wanted to go home. He felt and heard footsteps, his ears weakly peeking up.

A harpora was approaching Tommy’s location, he smiled weakly before passing out for a nap.

Meanwhile Phil was out on a walk, needing a break from his sons. Techno wasn’t that bad, Wilbur was a gremlin with an attitude and theater kid personality. He was out enjoying the sounds and smells of the forest when he suddenly came across an odd scent. Something, like berries and honey, but rotting. Something was dying. Now on the one hand he could pick them off as a quick snack, the smell was obviously human. On the other hand, the human could need medical attention. A sick human was the last thing any Titan would ever think about eating.

Phil followed the scent to a small area with a tree and a little cave. Probably the human’s shelter. He dropped to a crouch and stalked foreward, I’m taking the scents of his surroundings, he could smell something else abundantly clear: despair. He looked around and spotted something moving under a tree. It was, that’s not a human, that’s a Scavenger! Not just a scavenger, a fucking kid, probably no older than the age of 4!

It collapsed, it looked exhausted and hungry. Phil rushed over to make sure it was okay. He gently picked up the child, it was a little boy with a raccoon tail and small little red horns barely poking out of his golden blonde hair. Phil nudged the little boy with his finger.

“Please don’t be dead, please,” Phil whispered, covering the boy with both hands to warm him up, he was freezing! He felt movement, movement! He’s alive!

Phil gently opened his hands to see the boy struggle to get up. He opened his eyes, they looked up at Phil and he smiled as best as he could.

“Hello mister,” he greeted, his voice raspy and hoarse, it hurt Phil’s throat to hear this. “Oh! Umm, Mr. Max told me to say I don’t know where my home is, and to not tell you, because he thinks you’ll eat us.” He coughed.

“What? Uhh, no, no I’m not gonna do that mate,” Phil said, scrambling to pull out a bottle of water. “You need to drink.” He opened the bottle with his teeth and gently placed the cap on the ground, filling it with some water.

He put the child back on the ground and watched him crawl towards the water, drinking greedily. Phil sighed with relief that he could drink. But there was another problem: the kid was starving, Phil didn’t have any food, and he looked like he could drop dead want minute. And his house was an hour away from the forest.

“Thank you mister!” The child said, walking awkwardly back to the tree. Phil was curious.

“Why are you going back there?” Phil asked.

“Well, Mr. Max told me to wait here for him! He’s gonna come back in,” the child started counting with his fingers and then held up three little fingers. “This many days!”

Phil’s heart dropped. Yeah, he’s gonna be back to kill him.

“Well, Mr. Max told me to come and get you so you can be safe!” Phil told the child. “And you will be safe, with a nice warm bed and some food.” If he doesn’t die of hunger pains first. Phil thought. A young Scavenger like this can’t go more than 5 days without food and can die of starvation.

“Food! Do you have any mister? I haven’t eaten in this many days,” the little boy held up 6 fingers.

Shit, he isn’t gonna make it, unless… There is a confusing ability that Agnes and Derivus titans have, and he wasn’t sure if it would help the child. Phil could potentially store the child and start an energy transfer, sharing his energy with the little boy. He didn’t know if it would solve the starvation issue. The child doubled over, Phil was running out of time.

“Okay, listen mate, I’m going to do something and you have to trust me.” Phil said. The child nodded. “Good, first, what’s your name?”

“It’s, it’s Tommy, Tommy Danger Kraken Innit.” The child said proudly.

No way those are his middle names. Phil thought, but decided to humor the child in his possible final moments.

“Okay then Tommy, my name is Phil, can you walk over to me?” The child stood up but yelled as he fell over.

Phil caught him with a finger, nudging him onto his hand. He could clearly get Tommy’s smell, raspberries and honey, but old and rotting. Common descriptor of a starving, dehydrated, sick, or poisoned human, a warning to any Titan this isn’t a meal you want to eat. But he wasn’t doing this to satisfy himself.

“Okay, please don’t freak out mate, you’re gonna be okay,” Phil opened his mouth, and to his surprise the child actually crawled in, amused and happy giggles coming from the child. This kid would’ve been a goner even if he would’ve hunted for himself.

Phil gently closed his mouth, the taste was sour and he grimaced. He coated the child in saliva and almost choked when he kicked his uvula. He sighed and tilted his head back, purring softly to reassure the child and keep him from getting scared as he swallowed gently, tracing the child down to his crop. He felt Tommy slide in, okay, now how does he do the transfer? He sat down under the tree, taking a deep breath to focus on the child inside of him. He started to feel the hunger seeping in, it was working!

“Excuse me? Mr. Phil? I feel funny,” the quiet voice barely above a whisper called to him.

“Don’t worry mate, you’re gonna be okay, just close your eyes and take a nap, we’ll be home before you know it.” Phil said, gently rubbing his crop. The child squirmed inside of him before the movement stopped and Phil could faintly hear the child snoring softly.

Phil got up and stretched his wings, he couldn’t fly because he was sharing energy, so he’d have to walk, he continued down the trail back to where he’d come from. After an hour and a half of walking he finally arrived home.

He didn’t even call for his sons, he went straight to the kitchen and grabbed a box of cereal, taking a few pieces out and putting them on the countertop . He could hear his other sons in the background whispering.

Phil started gagging and gently coughed the child up, spitting him out into his hands.

“Hey, Tommy, you can wake up now,” Phil said, reaching over to grab a paper towel. The child woke up and Phil started spit drying him.

“Good morning Mr. Phil!” Tommy chirped weakly.

Phil smiled and put Tommy on the table in front of the cereal pieces. He made sure they had some form of nutrients other than sugar so the kid could at least have some strength to move around. “Go ahead mate, eat up, you need your strength.”

Tommy looked up at him, “mum says not to eat until everyone else has,” he said.

If this kid says any more shit about his old colony I am going there and murdering every last human there with bug spray. Phil thought. “That’s not how we work here, you don’t have to wait for me.” Phil said with a gentle smile. I’m not swallowing you again so you’d better eat that.

Thankfully Tommy did start nibbling on the cereal piece in front of him. Phil relaxed in his seat. He heard footsteps, Wilbur and Techno approached the table and sat down across from the Titan and Scavenger.

“Who’s the little guy?” Wilbur asked curiously.

“Boys, this is Tommy, he is going to be staying with us.” Phil said, gently petting Tommy with his thumb.

“Like, as a pet or a brother?” Techno asked, tilting his head. Phil chuckled softly.

“More like a brother actually. Tommy, these are my sons, Wilbur and Techno.” Phil introduced, grabbing his bottle of water and taking a swig

“Hi Wiblur! Hi Techno! Are they gonna swallow me like you did? Mum says that’s what titans do!” Tommy asked. Phil almost choked on his own water.

“No, no they aren’t going to do that. I did that to get you here safely.” Phil rushed out the words before his sons could say anything. Knowing Wilbur he’d definitely make it a game to swallow the child constantly.

“Aww, but it was warm,” Tommy pouted.

Great I gave him a vore addiction. Phil thought sarcastically. “Well you know what else is warm? A bed of your own, come on now let’s get you set up mate.” Phil lowered his hand and Tommy hopped on, taking his cereal with him.

He gave Wilbur and Techno an “I’ll explain later,” glance as he walked off to make his new adopted son a bed.

[darkisrising]

Lukewarm, by DarkIsRising

Lukewarm

The Jedi is sick, this much is clear.

It wouldn't be any business of Din's except this is the guy that's supposed to watch over his kid. The guy that’s supposed to protect him when Din isn’t around, and if there's one thing Din has known since the moment he’d survived a shootout to find the little gremlin’s bassinet, it’s that danger follows Grogu like stink on a bantha.

If his kid is going to be here his life depends on the Jedi being in fighting shape. And this—this rheumy-eyed, dewy-skinned, slightly-shivering man—is decidedly not in any shape to fight.

"I'm fine,” the Jedi lies from where he sits at the clearing’s edge, legs crossed and leaning just-this-side-of-too-much against the trunk of a tree. “Really."

The cough that follows his words wracks the Jedi's body so hard he doubles over, torso practically folded into his own lap from the force of it.

"I can see that," Din says, the edge of his sarcasm flattened as it works its way through his helmet’s modulator. Read on ao3