#oh and i mean by a minute very literally we’re twins
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burn your life down | chef luca x fem!reader | chapter thirteen
summary: luca visits his mom, while you deal with the aftermath of aiko's funeral.
warnings: fluff, angst, grief, death, conversations about divorce, second person pov, swearing, danish inaccuracies, very little connection to the storyline of the bear.
word count: 4.5k
listen to: the official 'burn your life down' playlist
a/n: well folks, this is the final chapter of 'burn your life down.' what a beautiful journey we've all been on together. i swear, this was only supposed to be a headcanon, then a few chapters maybe, and then 46.5k words later... thank you again and again if you read, commented, reblogged, or screamed at me in gifs because this story quite literally took over my life. i will be releasing a 'behind the scenes'/director's cut post, a few headcanons about the kimuras and the mikkelson twins, and want to write more for these two. so... what do you want to see them do next?
in the meantime, let's go get carmy married in "don't want to walk alone."
part twelve | masterlist
The clang of spoons against chipped mugs that date back to his primary school days feels comforting and familiar. Luca smiles to himself, dropping another sugar cube into his tea, using his teaspoon to mix it in as he listens to his mother make a sharp pivot away from her previous subject.
“Anyways, it’s not that I don’t love a spontaneous visit home, but we can’t ignore the elephant in the room, love,” his mother prompts him, finally done with dancing around the small talk her son’s have engaged in for the last thirty minutes.
“This girl, Luca,” she continues, sending him a look that says ‘you’re not getting out this one.’ “You haven’t brought a girl home in… god knows how long.”
“I-,” Luca begins, a smile on his lips that’s contagious. “It’s-, it’s not like that mom.”
He’s not sure what he’s supposed to say: that he’s hopelessly in love and that he hasn’t said anything yet because even though he wants nothing more than to shout it from the rooftops, that you’re here in London for a funeral and not to meet him mum?
“Well, darling. Then what is it like?” his mother asks him with a quirk of an eyebrow.
Luca hesitates, wanting to be strategic with how he explains this because the love he feels for you really is extraordinary. But he doesn’t want to jump the gun either. Because what if it all falls apart and he’s spoken too soon? You did just lose your mother-in-law, and he’d rather introduce you to his mum when you both are ready.
Finally, Luca decides what he’d like to say, returning his attention to his mother before replying with:
“She’s special… She's really special to me.”
His mother laughs, because although her son seems to be cautiously tiptoeing around some kind of imaginary fine line, the truth is written all over his face.
It’s in the way the corners of his lips turn up when she’s mentioned you. It’s in his shy nature and eagerness to avoid the subject. It’s in the way her son’s undeniable coyness, as she bridges the subject, that tells her that he’s found his heart.
“Oh I know that look. You’re in love,” Luca’s mother declares, reminding Luca that she really does see right through him.
“Do you think she’s the one?’
Luca sighs, turning the idea over in his head. It’s almost as if he hasn’t let himself feel it, hasn’t let himself think too hard about it, but the blush that runs across his cheeks gives him away.
“I sure hope so, mum,” Luca answers, honestly.
“Well,” his mother replies, smugly, as if to remind her son that she’s always right when it comes to him. “I’d like to meet her,”
“Mum, I-,” Luca begins, before pausing once more, suddenly overcome with the desire to fulfill her wishes. “It’s just… we’re here for a funeral is all.”
“And that means the two of you can’t stop by for a cup of tea?” his mother asks, haphazardly.
“I’ll ask,” Luca promises, firmly.
“I mean, what’s the hold up, my love?” she asks again, and it’s almost as if Luca knows she isn’t expecting an answer.
“Right,” he mumbles in agreement, something distant in his voice.
And while Luca wants nothing more than to be patient with you, for the both of you to make this decision together, the irrefutable pressure he feels from his mother’s question seems to create a sense of urgency that takes root. As it begins to spiral out of control, his mind filled with thoughts of doubt, his mother’s question echoes in his head:
What’s the hold up?
Surely you could manage just one visit before returning to Copenhagen, right?
Luca watches his mother take a sip from her teacup, his mind beginning to wander to earlier today, as she goes on about a recent neighborhood happening. As brave of a face as he’s been putting on, it was odd, seeing the family you used to belong to. And it’s not as if, with the divorce, that all just went away. He knows you’re still close with Astrid and the fact that you and Joe aren’t mortal enemies, seeing the two of you together earlier today, was harder to stomach than he imagined.
He can’t help but be filled with feelings of jealousy – jealous of how close you still are to the Kimurs, irrationally nervous that you and Joe seem to still have such a positive relationship, envious that he got to love you first. His reaction to his mother’s question is just a reflection back to him of his own worries, his own impatience, his own insecurities.
And Luca can’t help but wonder:
What would it mean if you weren’t ready to meet his mum?
-------------------------------
“I hope it’s not too late to set my demons straight. I know i made you wait, but how much can you take?” – kendrick lamar, ‘die hard’
You decide to take the long way home, walking off the afternoon, surprised to find how deep of sadness that still remains buried in your belly. Of course you expected to be sad, to be filled with grief over the loss of your former mother-in-law, but it’s something else, the bittersweetness of closure that’s left you feeling so heavy.
It’s not that you’ve missed Joe – not in that way at least.
But as you sat next to him at the neighborhood pub you’ve been to with him more times than you can count, it became more and more evident that he is no longer your Joe – and hasn’t been for a long time now.
You recall just a few of the things you remember about him that reminded you of this: the way his dark curls seemed wilder, messier, than you’d seen them in a long time, that his five o’ clock shadow that used to feel so rough against your lips looked unfamiliar now and how much you’ve forgotten the way the rough texture laid against the soft skin of his face, how his shoulders slumped with a burden you know is too heavy to bear.
When he’d told you all about his new job, it’s as if the elaborate portrait of his life that he’d painted for you began to unfold right in front of you. Only this time, as you listen, you come to realize that it’s been painted with brush strokes that weren’t yours, with colors you don't recognize, making your revelation clearer and clearer:
Joe has built a life without you – one that you don’t fit into anymore, at least not in the same way – and you’ve done the same.
Even though you left on a high note, at peace with Joe, reconnected with the Kimuras, and free to begin your next chapter, it feels like your heart is in pieces, reeling from the emotional whiplash of endings and beginnings.
And you can’t seem to stop crying, letting the tears run down your face with every step you take towards your temporary residence.
As you approach the hotel, riding the elevator up to you and Luca’s room, you’re surprised to find him more jovial than you expected. It’s not like you expected him to be sad – this isn’t his loss to grieve after all, and you’re glad that it seems like he’d had a good visit with his mum – but it feels jarring, like you’re not sure how to meet him there as you continue to sort through your thoughts and feelings from today.
“Hi,” you say, cautiously.
He hums in response, pulling you into a huge, sweeping kiss as he smiles against your lips.
“Hello, my love,” he grins, as he pulls away from the kiss.
You can’t help it, and you wish it were different, but there’s a pit in your stomach as you begin to notice how different of spirits you’re in.
“How was your visit with your mum?” you ask him, as if you’re trying to solve a mystery, trying to figure out where all of this energy is coming from.
Luca, driven to boldness by his mother’s question, seems to have thrown all caution to the wind as he answers with:
“It was great! Listen, I know it’s not the best of timing but, she really wants to meet you. Before we go home. What do you think?” he pitches to you, charging through his sentence like a confident and emboldened CEO.
“Oh,” is all you manage to get out.
No longer as patient as you’ve come to know him, his sudden change makes you nervous, and for the first time in a long time, you panic; you feel like running.
“Luca, I-,” you stammer, searching for the right words to just fall out of your mouth.
But they don’t.
So you pause, licking your lips before adding, “I’ve had a long day and… I just-, I don’t know if I’m in the right headspace for that?”
You don’t mean for it to sound like a question, but it comes out as one. Expecting for him to be just as understanding as he’s been the last few months, you’re more than surprised when Luca seems disappointed, cross even, at your response as you’re met with silence. You watch as he presses his lips together in a thin line, swallowing as he focuses on the floor.
You feel like you just told him that Santa Claus wasn’t real, taking a breath as you take a few steps towards him.
You’re not sure how, under the circumstances, he could expect you to be as enthusiastic as he is, but you’re almost too afraid to ask questions – a pit in your stomach about where this could all go.
“Honey, I-,” you sigh, taking his hands in yours as you’re quick to reassure him. You want nothing more than to remedy this, to tell him yes, but you can’t seem to get those words out of your mouth so instead you choose to explain yourself.
“Today has been… totally fucking crazy and… I think I just want to take a nap. I-, just because-.” You pause once more, trying your best to address the situation at hand. “It doesn’t mean anything that I don’t-, that I’m maybe not ready to-.”
“Well, that’s just it, isn’t it?” he asks you, pulling his hands back and taking a few steps away. You’re silent as you watch him pace back and forth, your heart sinking as he pulls away from you.
“Wh-, what do you mean?” you stumble through, nervously.
Luca pauses his movements, really looking at you this time as he asks, “You say it doesn’t mean anything. But it does. To me.”
“Baby, what’re you talking about?” you ask him, taking another step towards him.
“That you’re not ready,” he snaps at you.
Perhaps it could be different, he could react with much more grace and compassion, but between seeing a piece of your old life, and the doubts swimming in his head, he’s not sure he can wait any longer.
“Luca, that’s not fair,” you whisper softly.
“I-, I know. But-,” Luca tries his best to explain, becoming increasingly frustrated with himself as he continues to talk. “I just-, it’s hard not to think it means something. That you wouldn’t want to meet her.”
“It’s not that I don’t want to meet her!” you insist, trying your best to reassure your boyfriend. “It’s just that I just said goodbye to my mother-in-law and it-, it kind of feels like… well, I can’t just replace her!”
“I’m not-, I’m not trying to replace her!” Luca can’t help but exhale frustratedly.
“That’s not what I meant,” you’re quick to interject, the air between the two of you suddenly feeling tenuous.
Luca takes a breath, his jaw clenching in response to his deep feelings of jealousy. He knows it’s not fair but he reminds himself that he’s only human as his mind is filled with questions he wants to ask you like:
Why can’t you just let go of them? and, Do you miss them more than you love me? and lastly, this one in his mother’s voice, What’s the bloody hold up?
“I know,” is what he says instead, choosing to be the better man he knows he can be. He pauses, taking a seat on the hotel bed, his eyes fixed to the floor once again.
“Luca, I don’t understand,” you start, taking another few steps toward him so that you’re now standing in front of him. “Why are we fighting right now?”
Instead of answering right away, you search his face as he avoids your gaze, giving you more and more pause for concern.
“I just… are you having doubts… about us? After today?” he drags out, his voice strained.
“No, what-, where would you have gotten-, what do you mean?” you ask him, suddenly questioning if you’ve given him any reason to think otherwise.
“I just don’t understand why you don’t want to meet her!” he exclaims with a shake of his head.
“I never said I didn’t want to!” you’re quick to object.
As Luca leans forward, his forearms resting on his knees, you cross your arms over your chest as it becomes more and more evident that this conversation is getting heated.
“Luca, where is this coming from?” you ask softly, in an attempt to de-escalate the situation.
“Well, you didn’t say yes,” he throws back at you, and it hurts more than you thought it would.
“Yes, because-. I told you that I don't think I’m in the right mindset,” you struggle to explain. “Wouldn’t you rather I meet her when we’re both ready?”
“When you’re ready?” he points out.
“Luca, where is this all coming from?” you repeat your question, this time more sure, a deep concern in your eyes as you drop your arms to your side. You sit down on the bed next to him this time, wanting him to know that you’re on his side.
“It’s-,” he starts, before letting out another frustrated sigh. “I know that you’ve needed us to take things slow… but it’s been months and I just don’t understand how you’re still not ready.”
His insistence that you’re not ready only continues to frustrate you
“I’m not! That’s not what’s happening here,” you defend yourself. “Luca, please. I am ready. But meeting your mom is a whole different thing especially when, shit, babe. Especially when I’m navigating this loss and… and when you’re pressuring me like this!”
He scoffs, “You’re just scared.”
“I-. That’s not-. Yes, I am, and so far I’ve pushed through my fears because I want to be with you. Because I love being with you, Luca,” you insist, angling your body towards him this time.
“But right now this all feels pretty unfair and I just don’t know why, suddenly, you need me to do this. I mean, if it was this important to you we should’ve talked about it before we came.”
You pause once more, because really, you’d just like to understand why you’re fighting in the first place.
“Why is this suddenly so important for you?”
“Because I need to know-,” he snaps, finally turning to you. “I need to know that you feel the same way that I-. Because I-.”
You know what he’s about to say so you cut him off, knowing that, regardless of whatever’s got him so tied up into knots, it’s not the right time for either of you.
“Don’t,” you beg him, reaching out to grab his hand with yours. Luca looks up at you, returning your gaze this time and the disappointment in his eyes breaks your heart for a third time today.
“Please, don’t say it. Not right now. Not while we’re fighting. I don’t want the first time we say it to be when we’re fighting.”
There are so many things Luca wants to say, but instead, he doesn’t, too afraid the words will tumble out of his mouth because he knows it’s not the right time either. So instead, he sits there, wondering how he got himself caught up in this mess.
“I think I should go for a walk,” you say, breaking the thick silence between you. “Think we need to take a break… from this conversation. Before either of us say anything we don’t mean.”
“I promise. I’ll come back. I promise,” you reassure him.
“Okay,” he finally says, agreeing with you that maybe you both need a time out from this conversation.
“Okay.”
You can’t help it, but you can’t get out of there fast enough. With your jacket wrapped tightly around you, you wander the city for as long as you need to, especially since the tears have come back.
You can only imagine that it’s not been easy for Luca to have accompanied you to the funeral today, but you can’t seem to figure out what would’ve set him off like this – what could’ve filled him with so much doubt and so much urgency. You wonder what his mother must’ve said to him, wonder if something she said got into his head about your relationship. You know you’re not a walk in the park, but doesn’t everyone come with their own set of baggage?
The answer is simple. You take a time out, then you and Luca talk this all out when you get back to the hotel. You have no intention of running away, as much as the lesser parts of you would like to do nothing but, because you’re in this.
You know you’re in this, and even though it doesn’t seem like it, you know that Luca can feel it too.
Your mind wanders over to what he almost said.
I love you.
And you love him too.
The words have felt more and more prominent as of late, lingering in every goodbye, hanging heavy in the air as he’s held your hand through your grief, on the cusp of being said every time you make love.
Suddenly, overcome with the urge to tell him, you turn around, power-walking towards the hotel. He said it earlier, that he just needed to know that you felt the same way, and while there is so much more you need to talk out, this feels like a good place to start.
And more than anything, it feels like the thing that you need to do.
You come bursting through the doors to the hotel room, finding Luca there, still pacing. His jacket is thrown on the bed in a different place, and you gather that he must’ve gone out for his own walk as well.
“Hi,” he greets you, almost as if he’s surprised that you came back.
“I came back,” is all you say.
He nods slowly, before taking a seat on the bed once more, “Yeah.”
You walk towards him so that you’re now standing in front of him again.
“We have… so much to talk about… but… my walk made one thing clear,” you begin, cradling his head in your hands and lifting it to your gaze as you kneel down. “There’s something I-. I have to tell you that….”
His eyes meet yours as you finally say it:
“I love you, Luca.”
Overcome with a swell of emotions, Luca pulls you in, kissing you as you crawl onto his lap. You press your lips to his in a passionate kiss, and while he entertains you for a few more moments, he finally pulls away with a chuckle.
“What?”
“It’s just that-. Well, I wanted to say it first,” Luca chuckles, earning a laugh from you as well.
“Well sometimes things happen unexpectedly. Like meeting you,” you say, pressing your forehead against his as you whisper the words against his lips. “And I need you to know… that that was the very best thing. You are the very best thing.”
“I’m sorry about earlier. I should’ve been more considerate. It’s not like we’re here for a holiday or anything-,” Luca begins to apologize, now that he’s come down from whatever had possessed him earlier.
“You’re right. I wasn’t being fair to you, my love.”
“No it’s-, you needed to hear how I felt. And I get it now. This… whole trip has been… weird, I know,” you catch up to him, wanting him to know that you understand. “But I so appreciate you owning your part in it too.”
“My mum just, I don’t know. She got in my head. Had me overthinkin’... About us. Made me realize that I’ve got a lot more on the line here to lose,” Luca tries to explain as you leave soft kisses across his face.
“And what does that mean?” you ask him playfully, knowing exactly where this could go.
“It means that,” he starts, a cheeky smile on his face, before Luca leans in for another kiss. This time, he whispers the words against your lips.
“That I love you too. So, so much.”
-------------------------------
You’ve asked, requested, demanded really, time and time again to see photos, but as you sit in Luca’s mum’s home, staring at a photo of a young, rebellious, teenage Luca, it’s better than you could’ve ever imagined.
“And that was his ‘I just want to be normal like the riff raff that he was runnin’ around with’ phase,'' his mother, Elaine, explains over your fit of giggles.
“Oh mum. Can we not, please?” Luca groans, shooting his mother a playful glare.
“He insisted that ‘Luca’ was too strange of a name. Not a proper English name either. Insisted I call him ‘Lucas’ so, yes, this is Lucas,” Elaine continues to share, against her son’s wishes.
“God, that’s so embarrassing. I don’t know why I wanted this to happen in the first place,” Luca sighs, looking from you to his mother.
“Oh honey, I think I just fell in love with you all over again,” you giggle, giving his knee a squeeze under the table. “And yes, Elaine. I will be taking this photo with me. Think we should hang it on the fridge.”
Luca groans again, while Elaine exchanges a glance with her son, an entire conversation being had with just a shared look.
As Elaine continues to share another photo of ‘Lucas,’ pouring over old family photos and memories, you’re sure that this man is the love of your life.
You’ve had first love, the naive kind that breaks your heart because it’s the first time that you’ve ever felt this way before – the good and the bad. And then there was Joe, who somehow encompassed the feeling of being forever young, while being the love that grew you up too. But this? Loving Luca makes you feel safe and wild at the same time – like at any moment you could take a risk, knowing that you’ll always have a safe place to land.
And as you look to Luca, watching him beg his mum not to embarass him any further, you smile knowingly, because you can feel that this is it.
-------------------------------
It’s the night you launch your Winter menu, and while you recognize that if any of your signature dishes came off the menu, there would be riots in the streets, you’re more than excited (yes, and definitely a little nervous) about the cozy additions you and Mathilde have dreamed up.
At your pre-shift standup, your wait staff take turns practicing how to talk about some of the new dishes on the menu, and while you trust them to handle this one with care, you feel it’s important for you to speak on this one.
“And this is the final dish that we’ve added to our winter menu,” you begin, pausing before you share.
“As most of you know, I lost my former mother-in-law almost two months ago and um. Well, she taught me everything I know about Japanese cooking. So this is a dish for her: a red miso ramen with white miso-glazed kabocha squash, enoki mushrooms, ajitama and pickled green onions. It’s um. It’s a very personal dish to me, so I hope you enjoy.”
You watch as your staff, front and back of house, dive into the ramen bowls, trying the last dish you have to go over as a team, their faces lighting up with pure glee and sheer delight in response to the dish.
Your phone buzzes in your apron pocket, and as you pull it out, you see a few texts from your group message with the Kimuras, in response to the photos you sent of your finished dish.
Astrid: OMG it’s beautiful!
Lina: I’m hungry now. Save us some!!
Joe: She would’ve loved it. :)
“Looks like I’m right on time,” you hear a familiar voice say, pulling your focus from your phone to the front door.
“Luca! What’re you doing here?” you ask him, as you shove your phone back into your pocket, moving towards him.
“I know it’s a big night for you. Thought I’d come in a bit later but Mathilde invited me to the standup. Thought you may need a little additional support,” Luca shrugs, as you give him a soft ‘hello’ peck on the lips.
“Yeah, no I-. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that. I just introduced the ramen, actually. Aiko’s dish,” you reply, the smile on your face undeniable as you're filled with nothing but joy and love for the man that stands in front of you. “But let me make you up a bowl.”
“I’d love that,” Luca nods in agreement.
You make your way back to the open kitchen, watching as Jesper pulls up a chair for Luca, right next to yours. Mathilde is quick to offer him a smaller plate, welcoming him in with open arms. As you plate your dish, you can’t take your eyes off of him, and you have to remind yourself that you do need to make up this bowl of ramen at some point.
But seeing Luca here with your team – here to support you on your big night, on a night that you’re sharing your whole heart in one bowl of noodles – you’re overcome with a deep sense of gratitude that you get to be the one who loves him. You think back to the day you met, so glad that that evening was slow, that he chose to leave the box of pastries, that he asked you to come to AOC, because if he hadn’t, who knows where you’d be?
You walk the ramen bowl back to the table, setting it down in front of Luca with a kiss to his cheek as a bonus, as you sit down in the chair next to him. He smiles at you, a glimmer in his eyes that says, ‘thank you, my love.’
You smile back, thinking about what he said earlier, when he first walked in this evening because the double meaning isn’t lost on you.
And because he’s right.
Maybe, he’s always been right on time.
#chef luca#will poulter#luca the bear#the bear season 2#the bear headcanon#luca x reader#the bear hulu#the bear fx#the bear fanfiction#chef luca x reader#pastry chef luca#burn your life down
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Heeeeey! First of all, I wanted to say that I love your writing style! It's amazing and it's making me feel emotions♡! Second - I hope you have an excellent and nice day or night!
Can I request headcanons about Leo crushing on reader? And that he is so in love that it causes annoyance to his brothers, especially Donnie, that he decides to help his twin get the Reader?
If it's too much, you can ignore that, that's totally fine!
(and I'm sorry for any grammatical errors, English is not my first language, Haha!)
THANK YOU POOKIE I REALLY APPRECIATE IT 🤭🤭🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻 HOPE YOU LIKE IT
Rise! Leo x gn! reader crush Headcanons + Drabble
fluff :D, contains swearing
- literally eats up any and all attention you give him
- maybe just slightly very delusional
- like you could just brush past him and he’s like
- “did you guys see that? they’re sooooo into me.”
- whatever you gotta tell yourself, pal.
- Him? Laying awake at night thinking about you? Whaaaat? That’s crazy, couldn’t be him.
- except for the part where it is, and it’s interrupting his precious beauty sleep.
- def would wake up one of his brothers *COUGH*DONNIE
- “Psssst…Donnie~..DONNIE! Are you awake? Great! Hey, did you notice earlier when Y/N-“
- someone tell him to shut the fuck up about you. Jk not that they haven’t tried, Leo just doesn’t listen.
- ABSOLUTELY believes that he is incredibly smooth
- The worst pick-up lines you have ever heard in your entire life + just him (trying) to flirt with you ALL DAY EVERY DAY bitch doesn’t let you have a moment of peace
- You have no idea what you’ve done. To him sure, but mostly to Raph, Mikey, Donnie, and even April.
-“Aaappprriiilll, did Y/N say anything about me when you saw them?…No? Oh.🥲”
- Leo is forward and confident towards you, he ain’t trying to hide anything. Trust me, you don’t know how anxious this makes him because of his deep rooted insecurities BUT THAT’S A STORY FOR ANOTHER TIME-
- esp if he can’t tell if you are feeling what he is, yk?
- MEANWHILE, Donnie is one “Y/N” away from finally snapping (and becoming a mad scientist)
- EVERYONE is growing tired of this. It’s not that they aren’t happy their brother found someone he’s interested in, but oh my god.
- But Donnie would do anything, and I mean anything, for more than 5 minutes of peace.
——————————————————————————
So there Donatello was, peering around the corner watching you, Mikey, and Leo in the kitchen. It had been a lovely afternoon! You guys watched a movie, and now you were making brownies.
“You know, Y/N..” Leo had a cocky smile, leaning against the counter, “I don’t know what’s sweeter…you or these.”
You and Mikey both rolled your eyes, “Shut up, Leo.” It was completely fair for Mikey to be annoyed, he’d been listening to this all day. Like, take a hint.
Donnie was fiddling with the door, and glanced down the hallway, making sure to look out for Raph because he wasn’t sure his eldest brother sound agree with his…plan.
“Oh, Angelo, could you come here for a moment?” Donnie stared intently at Mikey, motioning his head towards you and his twin.
Mikey looked back and forth between you and Leo confused for a second, before shrugging and heading towards Donnie who then pulled him straight out of the room. He slammed the door shut, and activated his digital lock. No one was getting in or out unless Donnie disabled it, which he did not plan on doing anytime soon. This ended NOW. I mean, he thought it was pretty obvious that you both liked each other and just needed to get it over with! Mostly because Leo’s painful obsession was getting really old.
Banging and muffled yelling could be heard from the other side, and Mikey grabbed Donnie by the shoulder. “Donnie! What are you doing? My brownies are gonna burn!”
“Trust me, Michael. This is for the best and they’ll be thanking me later.”
.
.
“ Dammit…we’re locked in.” You let out a deep sigh, letting yourself slide down the wall to sit, the smell of baking brownies still in there. Why would Donnie do this?
“Yeah…” Leo was trying really hard to keep his cool, but the panic coursing through him was undeniable. I mean, he was actually alone with you. There was always someone else with you two, whether it be one of his brothers, his dad, or April.
“But…I mean, it’s not all that bad, just you..and me.” He winked, with his usual confident, sly smile even though his hands were shaking.
“Ugh, will you stop that?” Your tone and expression was annoyed, and confused, Leo’s stomach sank.
“Stop whaaat?~” His voice trembled a bit, but he was still keeping up his playful demeanor.
“The…the flirting! Seriously, it’s not funny.” You looked away from him. “I’m not trying to be funny-“
“Seriously, shut up! Stop playing with my feelings, Leo. You’re so confusing…I can’t tell if you’re just toying with me or what- God, why do I even bother?” Of course you were frustrated, who wouldn’t be?
Leo was taken by surprise at your outburst, and it was obvious. As soon as the realization of you were saying hit, you were embarrassed. “Just…forget it, Leo. I shouldn’t have said anything-“
“Wait, no- Y/N, it’s not like that!” What the hell was he saying? Was he really about to do this right now?
He kneeled in front of you, taking in a deep breath. “I care about your feelings, ok? I’m not ‘toying’ with you, I really do like you!” Even as his anxiety rose, Leo felt like a weight was be lifted off of his chest. He couldn’t believe he really just said it…
Now, it was your turn to be surprised, staring into his hopeful eyes. “Leo…I don’t know what to say…I mean..” Leo swore his heart stopped, and he felt like he imploding right then and there. He couldn’t handle rejection like this.
“ I like you, too.” You grabbed his hand, taking it in yours. “What? For real?” He swiftly wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly. “..ohgodthankyouthankyou…”
“So, what now?” You couldn’t help but smile, leaning your head into the crook of his neck.
Leo laughed, “I don’t know, I never really thought I’d get this far.“
——————————————————————————
TY FOR READING!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻
Some requests from my inbox will be posted very soon. I stared school again this week, so I’ve been busy but I’m trying to catch up! Sorry it’s been taking a hot minute. :)
#rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles#rise donnie#donnie hamato#rottmnt x reader#rise leo#rise mikey#rise raph#rise leo x reader#leo x reader#leo x you#tmnt x reader#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtle imagine#rottmnt headcanons
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Calling the housewardens your "lil meow meow".
Sooo self indulgent, I call Leona my lil meow meow all the time and I just had to wonder his reaction <3 he is my baby girl fr <3!!! Expanded to the housewardens because I think it would be funny to call ‘em that.
Established relationship, cringe writing, mushy fluffy lovesick writing
Riddle Rosehearts
Firstly, do NOT call this man any pet names in public he will combust! Riddle is a very private person, not a huge fan of PDA or being too lovey-dovey in front of people.
Anyways! I’d imagine you’d only call him this after your relationship has been established more and Riddle is more used to intimacy with you. He’s never been in a relationship before you (no shocker) and would like to take it slow.
Imagine the scene: you’re cuddling, Riddle’s the little spoon because he’s had a particularly stressful day. You’re holding him tightly, whispering sweet little affirmations…
“Tomorrow will be a better day, my lil meow meow,” You say, giggling.
Riddle.exe stopped working???
He’s as red as the roses in the garden!
It’s not that Riddle wasn’t used to your little pet names by now but what the HELL was a lil meow meow ???
What happened to darling, love, sweetheart?
You gotta explain to him it’s a meme and endearing! You’re just calling him as cute as a kitten <3
He accepts it but the redness of his face isn’t going down anytime soon.
Dear reader, he will never get used to that pet name so use it sparingly unless you want a broken boyfriend all the time.
Leona Kingscholar
It’s so fitting for him, huh? Couldn’t resist yourself could you, dear reader?
It’s okay cause nor could I.
His reaction is silence. Just plain silence. You could see the speech bubble of just a period of ellipses if you really tried.
He’s blinking and you, you’re blinking at him. We’re playing the blinking game!
Leona isn’t mad, per se, nor is he as embarrassed as Riddle. I feel like he would also know the origin of the whole lil meow meow meme.
He’s more like ???? what was the reason?
You’re still sitting in silence btw. I feel like you would have to break that silence. He’s not entertaining you, he knows your game.
“You don’t like it, Leona?” :(((
He thinks it’s time for you both to take a nap, and go to sleep... Again! You’re obviously still tired, reader if you think the Leona Kingscholar is cute enough to be called “lil meow meow”.
New flash he is cute enough to be called lil meow meow <3
And honestly … Leona, baby, you’re a literal cat. The pet name fits!
“Herbivore-”
“Lil meow meow.”
The pet name stays and if you pay close enough attention, whenever you say it just the slightest bit of a smile can be seen on Leona’s face.
He’s only soft and cute for you, after all.
Azul Ashengrotto
Reader stop breaking your boyfriends, this is really mean!
Azul is working as usual. You sit near him and work on whatever schoolwork you have, sometimes talking and ranting about your day. He listens, of course, occasionally nodding along or offering his input.
But today you’re feeling playful and flirty! You slip in the lil meow meow after one of your usual pet names for your lover.
“Am I your lil meow meow?” He’ll ask. His face will be the brightest shade of pink and he’ll probably have dropped his pen at this point.
He’s gonna bury his hands in his face, you’re not seeing him this flustered over just a pet name! Not for free.
Oh, he’s so fun to tease. Keep calling him it, he’ll be as red as Riddle’s hair.
Please for the love of god do NOT let the Leech twins find out about this little pet name you tease him with.
He’ll never live it down, the twins will never stop calling him it randomly.
Azul will be telling them what needs to be done in the lounge today and all of a sudden,
“Of course, lil meow meow.” - Jade, wearing that signature smirk of his.
GAH !!!
Reader for his sake be careful with this pet name.
Kalim Al-Asim
You’re definitely just using it randomly as a greeting. The minute you see Kalim that day you’re just like, “Hi, my precious lil meow meow handsome snookums.”
Kalim is just :D!!!!
“Hi (enter the most love sick pet names here)!!!!!”
Okay, I’m over exaggerating but you two are disgustingly in love. NRC’s sweetheart couple.
If Grim is with you he’s fake gagging!! Get him out of here rn!!
If anyone else is around, the reaction is a mix of “ew”, “damn I want what they have”, “god they’re so cute”, “GROSS!!!”
You two have a habit of bouncing between many, many different pet names. So you pulling out a new one was nothing new.
And you guys use them, whenever, wherever.
Kalim may actually acknowledge that you’ve never called him that.
He probably really like it! Especially when you say it’s because he’s just so cute like a little kitty :>!
Expect him to use it for you too now!
Mutually you are lil meow meow’s <3
(I’m gagging)
Jamil is so tired of you two!!
Please for the sake of his sanity (and NRC not burning to the ground) limit yourself to one pet name per sentence per HOUR.
But yea…not much to say on Kalim’s reaction other than he’ll love it.
Vil Schoenheit
It’s hard for me to imagine even when you would drop this name on him.
Maybe you’re doing one of your usual spa days in his room and you sneak it in.
Or you’re alone in a classroom before the housewardens meeting, before anyone else showed up.
Regardless of when or where you decided to try it out. He’s not feeling this one, dear reader.
It’s funny and a bit cute, he’ll admit, but umm no.
His reaction is just a straight face and a small hum.
There’s also an awkward silence between you saying it and him even acknowledging what was said.
“…”
“….”
“……”
He might ask you why you decided to use it, I’d imagine he’d already know its meme origins.
“Just wanted to see your reaction.”
“Are you satisfied?” A small sigh escaped his lips.
Well, are you?
(No).
No matter if you got your few seconds of satisfaction or not, it’s already in the past.
I can’t imagine Vil being a big fan of a lot of pet names in general. He has a few that he really likes that you use and that’s it.
Try something else next time <3
Idia Shroud
There’s two ways I can see this going and it depends on how far in your relationship you two are.
If you’re early in your relationship: he’s a mess.
You cannot keep getting away with doing this to these boys !!!
He’s stuttering.
His hair is a vivid pink.
He’s trying to hide his face in his jacket because that’s also a vivid pink.
He can’t even try to hide his embarrassment.
He’s malfunctioning!
And you’re just laughing! You’re enjoying this? Seeing your boyfriend turn into a puddle of mush?
Yeah
If you’re further along in your relationship, he’s turning it around and teasing YOU.
“I can’t believe you used such a cringe ass pet name for me, normie. Did you think I was gonna be embarrassed?”
Idia, the tips of your hair is pink and your cheeks are too.
You two are playfully arguing about it 1) not being cringe 2) him actually being embarrassed.
He’s gonna call you it back within the argument too and you’re like ??:??/?/?
YOU JUST SAID IT WAS CRINGE!!
Oh, you want cringe? He’s gonna give you cringe.
“Sorry, my discord kitten. Couldn’t help myself.”
He’s giving you that cocky little grin he occasionally has.
Throw a pillow at him and take him off his high horse, reader.
Then hit him with another pet name that you know will give you a flawless victory.
Malleus Draconia
You guys were doing one of your nightly walks around the campus. Hand in hand, you both were talking about your day and plans for tomorrow.
You’re gonna have to explain to him the origins of this peculiar pet name and also explain to him what a meme even is. He’s amused at the fact you think he’s “as cute as a kitten” and “simply adorable”.
He’s never been described as adorable and cute before (at least not by anyone that wasn’t Lilia lmao)
Child of man, have you no fear? Calling the Malleus Draconia cute? Ofc you don’t, he is cute. He loves how casual you are with him, not afraid to tease him, and treat him normally.
For the rest of your walk, you swear his voice is just a bit higher and the grip on your hand a bit tighter. He takes a longer path back to Ramshackle. He wants to stay in this moment for as long as possible.
Just like Kalim, he’s probably gonna turn around and use lil meow meow on you.
Just as you’re about to return back into Ramshackle for the night, “Have a good night, my lil meow meow.”
You: !!!???;!!.!!.!/!/!/!!/!.!.!
“Child of man, are you alright?” He’s smirking while saying that, knowing his effect on you already.
Assure him that you’re fine and really, really sleepy before he tries to tease you anymore!
I swear that night Grim heard you scream into your pillow and kick your feet up and down, sighing ever so dramatically at the end of it.
His henchman is weird…
Oh, and don’t think Lilia didn’t notice Malleus the moment he walked through the doors of Diasomnia. His whole demeanor was different from the way he left earlier and a beautiful smile was on his face.
“Ohoho seems like someone had a good walk.”
Lilia will surely tease him about it in the morning but for now, he just enjoys how absentmindedly Malleus starts his lovesick rambles about you.
#twisted wonderland scenarios#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland imagines#twst x mc#twst x you#twst x reader#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twst headcanons#twst dorm leaders#twst housewardens#riddle rosehearts#leona kingscholar#idia shroud#vil schoenheit#kalim al asim#malleus draconia#azul ashengrotto#twst fluff
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MAGICAL REALISM FIC REC: Below you’ll find fics that have magical elements to them that blend fantasy with reality in their own ways.
📖 Three Days in February by @mercurial-madhouse (187k)
How close is too close? Harry and Louis are about to find out after a drunken night leaves Louis cursed. With only a week before tour starts, the race is on to fix things before they lose Louis forever. Oh, and Harry has to keep his long-time crush on Louis a secret while the lad can literally hear his thoughts. Easy, right?
Featuring ridiculous amounts of banter and angst, a healthy dose of OT5 friendship, and one very magical weekend.
📖 hymn for the wretched & divine by @wlwmermald (126k)
Death loses a bet with a mischievous and lively mortal by the name of Louis Tomlinson, who loves his old cat too much, the price being he must unconditionally befriend Louis. Death ends up getting more than he bargained for.
📖 Si Pudiera Volar by by @softfonds (69k)
When Harry’s fiancé leaves him for his cousin, he looks the other way for the sake of his happiness. He’ll do anything to forget about him, including joining a monastery. It isn’t until his cousin’s former lover, a pirate, appears that he realizes everything is not as it appears, and an honest pirate might be the only person worthy of his heart.
Or, a fic loosely based on Corazón Salvaje.
📖 Take on Me by @haztobegood (60k)
Actor Harry Styles is preparing for his next leading role as Antonius the Gladiator with the help of Louis Tomlinson, Hollywood’s top stunt coordinator. When the demands of Harry’s career get in the way of their training, the pair head to a secluded cabin to complete their training. Then, Louis begins to share senses with Harry. What is causing this mysterious connection and can Louis and Harry figure out how to stop it before they leave the cabin?
📖 Driftwood by @justanothershadeofblue (51k)
Eroda was all Harry knew. He lived there all his life, but he always knew he was peculiar. He had dreams that go beyond this small, cold, and lonely island. He wanted to leave; he HAD to leave. But that meant leaving Louis...
Harry is a lonely and depressed popstar who sailed out of his hometown on Eroda years ago to chase his dreams. He comes back to the island only to find his shining childhood best friend Louis just as cold and dreary as the island they grew up on.
📖 Chasing, Searching, Dreaming by @parmahamlarrie (46k)
Everyone is chasing, searching, dreaming of their soulmate.
Harry has known who his soulmate is since he was twenty years old, and ever since, he has been waiting for Louis to be ready for him. The unexpected passing of Louis' mum, and the fact that now he is the guardian of his twin two-year-old little siblings, just means that Harry is going to have to wait a bit longer.
A soulmate AU full of cute kids, house building, therapy, and a lot of dreaming.
📖 Soul of the Sea by @vurdoc (32k)
Louis lives a nomadic lifestyle. Never settling down in one place for long, he finds himself caught in a storm, as he’s passing through a small Scottish seaside town.
Everywhere is full, except the old B&B perched up on an isolated hill near the coastline, where the recluse owner isn’t what he seems.
Then again, who really is?
A fic about belonging, supernatural beings, and finding your own home.
📖 Fate & Chance by @zanniscaramouche (31k)
Haunted by his own ghost, the Duke von Tomlin fears for his safety and sanity as the days tick down to his certain engagement with the Crown Prince of Vienna. Meanwhile the travelling magician Hassenheim takes residency in a well established theatre, drawing mass crowds with his awe-inspiring illusions. Is it fate or chance that entwines their paths?
📖 The Honeycomb Bed and Breakfast by @daggerandrose (8k)
“I’m sorry, but where did we land?” He asks one of the flight attendants when he reaches the door.
“We’re in Bucharest.”
It takes a minute for Harry to process the location. “Romania? I was supposed to go to Rome, not Romania! How does that happen?”
or the one where Harry's work trip to Italy makes a tiny detour to Bucharest, Romania and he has to find a place to stay.
📖 i was at an all night diner by @yoursongonmyheart (5k)
"I know. I was there. I saw the great void in your soul, and you saw mine."
//or, the one where none of the boys can sleep and they all meet at a diner where it's always 3 a.m.
📖 The kaleidoscope of your eyes by @greenblueish (4k)
They are greeted by a young, handsome man in his late twenties, dressed in wide black trousers and a purple silky dress shirt. Usually Louis is quick to judge such daring pieces of clothing, as this colour in particular can easily look like a cheap Halloween costume imitation of a computer game character, but at this sight, he can think of no criticism. Except that there’s no way in hell that this man has the medical knowledge to cure his neighbour’s tumour.
or, the one where Harry, disguised as an alternative practitioner, uses his magic to cure people's health issues and Louis doesn't believe in the faith healer until he meets him himself.
📖 'Cause I Just Wanna Feel Alive by @goldenkinglouis (3k)
“Oh, cheers, mate, but I don’t do dates.”
Harry’s brow furrowed. “Are you–” he waved vaguely.
Louis shook his head. “No, it’s just… been too long for me.”
“And how might I convince you otherwise?” Harry asked, his eyes glistening under the lights.
OR: Louis is a lost, lonely vampire. Harry is the witch who brings him home.
📖 Just a little taste by @lunarheslwt (3k)
Harry is a vampire that comes home one night, grappling with the darkness that comes with being one. Louis offers him unwavering love, acceptance and the one thing he needs but is reluctant to ask for; permission to bite for the sake of comfort and safety seeking.
📖 all was golden in the sky by @daydreaming-sunflower (1k)
The Sun and the Moon are in love.
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Rushing Home with their Treasures
“Ooh, what about this?” Deeks asked, holding up a tiny green and red elf costume.
“I don’t know,” Kensi said, rubbing the fabric between her fingers. “It’s cute, but also kind of ugly.” She rested her hand over her stomach, absentmindedly rubbing a few times. “Those dresses are really cute, though,” she added.
Deeks followed her gaze to the smallest imaginable velvet dress with a poofy skirt.
“That is adorable,” he agreed. “We could get it.”
“But then we’re going to end up with three possible sets of everything to cover all the possible girl/boy scenarios. Besides, we’re supposed to be getting gifts for family and friends, not the twins.”
They’d taken advantage of a afternoon when neither of them had any appointments or work to knock out some of their holiday shopping. The giant display of baby paraphernalia had sent them on a half hour detour.
“Ok, where do you want to head first?”
“Well, I thought since Rosa’s gift is probably going to be at least partially custom-made, we should probably get that taken care of before it gets too busy,” Kensi suggested.
“Sounds like a plan.” He saw Kensi give the baby clothes another look before finally turning in the direction of the jewelry department.
“How can I help you today?” the assistant at the jewelry counter asked as they approached. “We have some lovely pieces on sale today and all earrings in this display are 50% off.”
“Thank you, but we’re actually looking for a pendant for our daughter,” Deeks explained. “This is what we had in mind.”
An hour later, they walked away from the counter with pamphlets, paperwork, and the promise of their personally designed necklace in a week’s time. In the end, they’d settled on a design a series of interlocking hearts that incorporated each of their birthstones, with space to include the twins’ once they were born.
To some, it might sound slightly cheesy, but Rosa valued anything that linked her to her found family. From the pictures spaced throughout the house, to Deeks and Kensi’s names on her school forms. The necklace just happened to be a very purposeful and more extravagant addition.
“I think she’s going to love it,” Kensi said, examining the example pictures they’d been given. They strolled past a couple food vendors on their way out and she inhaled deeply, closing her eyes. “Mm, cinnamon rolls.”
She gave Deeks a sly look, and he chuckled, veering off towards the Cinnabon. “C’mon, we can’t let you and the Pastry Babies starve. Especially when there’s literal pastry to be had.”
Kensi looped her arm through his, leaning her head on his shoulder. “I love you.”
“So, where to next?” Deeks asked once they both had cinnamon rolls the size of his head in hand.
Peeling off a strip of glaze-covered dough, Kensi slowly at it while she considered his question. “That boutique Anna likes is across the mall, we’re getting Rountree and Fatima’s gifts at the Christmas market, so maybe your mom’s?”
“Sure. Though we are definitely not getting items 2, 3, or 7 from her wish list.”
“Oh, you mean the lingerie, dirty truth or dare game, and aphrodisiac gift basket?” Kensi said, licking icing off her finger. “Yeah, I’m thinking we need to pass those on to Arkady.”
“Ew,” Deeks commented, giving a full-body shudder. “Ok, you want to meet up in the accessories? I’m gonna grab some coffee to wash down the sugar and hopefully burn the thought of aphrodisiacs, my mom, and Arkady from my mind.”
Snorting, Kensi leaned in for a kiss. “See you in a few.”
Deeks joined the line for one of the many coffee shops sprinkled around the mall’s main floor. When Kensi was out of sight, he ducked out of line, making a beeline for the baby department. It only took a few minutes to locate the racks of Christmas outfits they’d looked at earlier.
He grabbed the tiny green dress, smiling as he headed for the register.
***
A/N: So much fluff this densimber! And yes, I’m still manifesting twins all day, every day.
#densimber 7.0#densimber 2023#densimber day 7#ncis la fanfiction#ncis la#densi#marty deeks#kensi blye#pregnant kensi#fluff#Christmas shopping#by ejzah
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Chapter 9: The Final Battle pt.6
The Imitator: What do you want you powerless do—
Narrator: Then a big blue sphere came at the Imitator at the speed of light.
Edison: Nice shot, Lucario!
Lucario: Thank you. I will take that as a compliment.
Edison: It sure is.
Black Imposter: Oh, by the way, I called “some” people over to help.
Taki: Ooh! Who are these special people?
Edison: Ok, good, how much?
Black Imposter: Heh, about… 500 people.
Edison: Wait, how did you call that many people in under 3 minutes.?
Tomongus: Well… We were able to call certain people over. I still have their numbers. And Green, you can check to see who they are. If it’s someone we don’t know, delete 'em’.
Green: Alright! On it!
Black Imposter: Hey, Henry! It’s your time to shine.
Hank: This dude? Really? He looks like a stick figure.
Black Imposter: Don’t worry, he has an army with high tech weapons. And besides, he's my friend and his friend at making plans.
Hank: I don’t believe it.
Fleetway: Why am I here? Shouldn’t I be somewhere ELSE? And who are these people?
Black Imposter: That’s the funny part….
Tomongus: I thought you KNEW me, old buddy!
Edison: Here we go again…
Fleetway: What?
Edison: Hello there Fleetway, it’s been a while.
Lucario: Seems like you know the hedgehog very well.
Edison: Yep, he’s a universe where super sonic turns bad, that’s all.
Fleetway: Oh! Edison! I didn’t recognize you. It looks like you changed. Alot. Your outfit, your tone, your hair… Everything!
Edison: It’s alright, you see the Imitator up in the sky.
Fleetway: Imitator? Who?
Edison: Oh right, I only told Lucario who he is. Anyways, the Imitator is basically a villain who wants to destroy universes, don’t beat him, you lose your universe.
Charles: Hang on, I got the perfect plan.
Edison: Oh boy….
Keith: NO– NOT THIS AGAIN–!
Narrator: Then Charles charged his helicopter at the Imitator, stunning him for 2 minutes, somehow.
Keith: -stutters- O-Oh! I guess it’s fine then! Made me a little dizzy there, dude!
Edison: Well, that was dumb.
Lucario: Is he even still alive?
Fleetway: Yeah, uh.. About that, is that the Imitator?
Edison: Yep, and he’s somehow stunned.
Fleetway: Oh. Cool.
Sonic: I’M HERE- I’M HERE! What did I miss?
Fleetway: Alot.
Sonic: Dang it.
Edison: Missed so much.
Lucario: Well, there’s 2 hedgehogs now.
Sonic: I wish I came earlier. I was actually getting chili dogs.
Narrator: All of them except Imitator just stared at Sonic.
Sonic: What? I was hungry!
Fleetway: Can’t miss out on hunger, can you?
Sonic: Nope.
Edison: Anyways.
Narrator: Then a big blast hit the Imitator making him focus his attention on Edison.
Edison: I’ll distract him.
Lucario: Don’t let me off of this, Edison.
Tails: SONIC– WAIT UP!
Chad: Did I just find my long lost twin or what?
Black Imposter: This is just a tip of the iceberg, and also, what?
Chad: Take a long look at me and Tails. Compare me with him.
Tails: You kind of look like me… Uh-
Chad: Call me Chad, ok?
Sonic: TAILS BE CAREFUL- He may be evil!
Chad: I’m not evil!
Black Imposter: You 2 look the same, but you guys don’t even know each other or memory.
Tails: I know that guy now! He told me his name just now.
Black Imposter: Alrighty then, let’s just get more people here.
Soul Keith: Hi. I'm back! From somewhere.
Black Imposter: Why are you here now at the SPECIFIC moment?
Tails: Where’s the food?
Black Imposter: What do you mean? We’re literally about to get universes destroyed.
Narrator: Then everyone stared at Black.
All (Except: Edison, Lucario, Black, and Moisty): Wait, what?
Black Imposter: Oh yeah, forgot to mention that, if we don’t defeat the Imitator, all of our universes will get destroyed and nothing will stop him.
Narrator: Then Edison teleported in the center of everyone.
Edison: That’s right! If we don’t do something about it, all of us will never exist ever and nothing will stop him. We all gotta work together and make sure he never wins! So, who’s with me!
Moisty: I’m not surprised. I’m already destroyed, myself. And I’ll join.
Garcello: Wait, what? I’m in just to let you know
Sonic: You know I could just turn super, right? By the way, I’m in!
Edison: Well, this villain is different, he can copy anyone about them, and becomes you but way more better.
Narrator: Then Lucario teleported besides Edison.
Lucario: Edison’s right, if we don’t do anything about him, we’ll all get destroyed.
Soul Keith: LET'S DO THE MOST VIOLENT AND BEST THING WE CAN DO! Killing him by the way. That's what I was referring to anyways.
Narrator: All except Soul Keith just stared at him.
Edison: Anyways, I’m gonna make the call.
Lucario: You haven’t done it in 20 years. Are you sure that this will work?
Edison: We need all the help we can get, so it's worth a shot. UNIVERSE CALL!
Lucario: I don’t even know what you’re doing anymore.
Edison: Calling all the universes in 1 call.
Tomongus: And who exactly are these universes?
Edison: Heh, some old faces from a LONG time ago.
Moisty: How many friends do you even have?
Edison: Well, it’s a lot.
Annie: Okay, uh– Anyone else got a plan?
Garcello: I could explode the Imitator.
All (Except Garcello): NO!
Garcello: Okay… Maybe not.
Edison: They’re all gonna come in 3..
Narrator: As soon as Edison said “3”, all of his friends came. With no problem at all.
Edison: Glad you can all come, anyways, we got a problem, you see the guy who looks like me?
Soul Keith: I’ll give a motivational speech! You can do this! I’m dead because of him, BUT YOU CAN DO THIS! I THINK! YOU MIGHT! I REGRET GIVING THIS SPEECH!
Movie Sonic: Hey hey everyone!
Lucario: Ok, now there’s 3 hedgehogs in this battle. but hey, can’t complain.
Sonic: No need to complain, buddy!
Fleetway: Can I go take a break?
Edison: You’re universe is on life support and you want a break!?
Fleetway: YES I WANT A BREAK! I’m sleepy, I’m tired, I want to go HOME and why are we still here?
Edison: We’re here to fight someone who can literally smite you in an instant!
Soul Keith: True.
Lucario: Edison, do you have to deal with this? All the time?
Edison: Sadly, yes.
Lucario: That’s just depressing.
Movie Sonic: If he wants a break, give him a break. It’s uncool to disrespect someone.
Sonic: Don’t worry, he’ll be back later. Or maybe sooner.
Tails: Which Sonic is the REAL Sonic?
Chad: Seriously dude?
Edison: Let me just help you with that while I think about my life.
Soul Keith: Okay…?
Narrator: Then Edison put name tags of which Sonic is which.
Edison: There.
Tails: Oh, thank you so much!
Movie Sonic: This thing is uncool. Why’d you do that?
#Microphone Invasion#Book 1#writing from the back porch#fnf au#friday night funkin au#fnf garcello#among us au???
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Dress
Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader
Synopsis: Peter sees you in a dress for the first time
Masterlist
“Hi, Petey.” You greeted your boyfriend as you walked into his room. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as he sat at his desk and kissed his cheek.
“Hi.” Peter said before looking up. When he finally tore himself away from his notes, his jaw dropped at the sight of you in a dress.
“Woah.” He mumbled quietly.
“What?”
“You...you’re wearing a dress.” He said as a smile broke through on his lips.
You gulped and looked down at your dress, acting as if it hadn’t been on your mind since the moment you put it on. You never wore dresses, or really anything that showed off you body. There was a certain comfort you found in baggy clothes that left absolutely everything to the imagination. If no one could see, no one could judge, and that’s how you liked it.
“Oh, yeah.” You pretended to notice the dress for the first time. “I am.”
“I’ve never seen you in a dress before.” Peters smile grew. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve seen you in anything but black jeans or sweats.”
“Yeah, well.” You shrugged shyly. “It’s a little hot for those.”
“Yeah.” He nodded, but he was barely listening. “Have you always had that dress?”
“Yeah. I just never wear it.”
“Why not?” He asked as if it was crazy.
“I don’t know.” You chuckled at his behavior. “It’s a little revealing, don’t you think?”
“No.” He said immediately. “No, um, I think it’s perfect.”
“What?” You laughed in surprise. “You do?”
“How have I never seen this before?” Peter tugged on the bottom of the dress as he admired it. “How come you don’t wear this everyday?”
“Are you playing with me right now?” You asked skeptically.
“No.” Peter furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t look that good.”
“Baby, with all due respect, you have never been more wrong.” Peter insisted as he got out of his chair. “You literally look perfect.”
“What?” You laughed again. “No I don’t.”
“Yes you do. Like, holy shit.” Peter put his hand on his chest and blew out a breath. “I have to sit down.”
Peter collapsed on the bed and took a deep breath, never taking his eyes off you in your dress.
“You have to be messing with me right now.” You shook your head in disbelief.
“I’m not. I’m just speechless. Give me a minute.” He requested as he stood back up. He took his time looking you up and down, admiring every inch of you in the dress.
“You’re speechless over the dress?” You raised an eyebrow. “It’s not even that cute. And you can see my stretch marks.”
“I know.” He sighed dreamily. “Oh my God. I can’t breathe.”
“What? They’re so ugly.” You insecurely squeezed your thighs together to hide the marks.
“Ugly?” Peter asked. “They’re like perfect little brushstrokes on the worlds most beautiful canvas.”
“No they’re not.” You said quietly.
“Um, yes they are.” Peter scoffed. “Don’t you know texture is what adds to the price of a painting?”
“Don’t be a smart ass.” You told him. You were already insecure about the dress, and Peter joking about it was only making it worse for you.
“I’m not.” Peter said sincerely. “Baby, how do you not see what I see? You look like an angel.”
“No I don’t.” You disagreed. “I probably look so stupid in this.”
“You do look stupid.” He nodded. “Stupid hot.”
“Stop.” You couldn’t help but smile.
“Stupid sexy?” He asked. “Is that better?”
“No.” You answered as you fought a smile. You folded your arms over your chest to try to cover yourself up, feeling more vulnerable than usual in your lack of clothing.
“Don’t cover up, please.” Peter requested as he gently moved your arms away from yourself. “I want to see the full picture.”
“The full picture has marks and scars and bumps and whatever the hell else is wrong with my body.” You mumbled as you looked down at your body.
“Wrong? Are we looking at the same body?” Peter asked. “Because I see nothing but perfection.”
“My body is not perfect.” You told him in an unamused tone.
“Your honor, she’s lying.” Peter said as he looked around.
“I’m not.” You laughed and poked his chest. “You are. You’re acting like a have a nice body when we both know I don’t. I shouldn’t have worn the dress. I don’t have the right body for it.”
Peter stared at you for a moment, realizing your feelings went deeper than just the dress. He frowned a little as a sadness clouded his brown eyes.
“Come here.” He said suddenly as he brought you over to his mirror. He stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist, letting you rest your back on him.
“Would you look at someone else with this body and call them ugly?” He asked quietly as he stared at you in the mirror. You stared back at him as you slowly realized what he was doing.
“No.” You said finally. “I wouldn’t.”
“So why would you say those things about yourself?”
“I don’t know.” You said quietly.
“That’s okay.” Peter told you. “It’s a process, learning to love yourself. And the hardest step is always going to be step one.”
You tried to move away from the mirror, feeling insecure as you stared at your reflection, but Peter kept you in place.
“I love your body.” Peter stated. “I love it because it’s warm when you lay down beside me. And it wraps around me when I’m sad. I also love the way it looks in this dress.”
You stayed quiet as Peter listed a few more things he loved about your body. You stared at yourself as he described what he loved, trying your best to see what he saw.
“We are so lucky to have bodies, you know?” Peter said softly. “Our bodies hold us upright and keep us together. And our bodies allow us to hug people when we love them and jump when we’re happy and let feel warmth and pain and pleasure and all that good stuff. Don’t be mean to your body. It’s not mean to you.”
“This dress may have pulled a philosopher out of you.” You said as a smile broke through your lips.
“Maybe.” Peter chuckled before pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Be nicer to yourself, okay? For me?”
“I’ll try.” You told him, and you meant it.
“Thank you.” He smiled. “Now could you do me a favor and tell yourself that you’re beautiful?”
“I don’t wanna.” You whined and put your hands over his.
“Just once.” He promised. “I want to hear you say it. Even if you don’t mean it, just say it.”
You looked at him for a long time in the mirror before letting out a sigh. Finally, you looked at yourself and gave yourself a weak smile.
“I’m beautiful.”
“Wow. So conceited.” Peter clicked his tongue.
“Peter.” You whined again.
“I’m kidding.” He kissed your cheek again. “I agree. You are beautiful. Don’t forget that.”
You smiled at Peter in the mirror before craning your neck to look at him.
“I won’t.” You promised. “I just need a reminder sometimes.”
“That’s what I’m here for.” He told you. “Now, what other outfits have you been hiding from me?”
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#peter parker x reader#peter parker x y/n#peter parker x you#peter parker blurb#peter parker fluff#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker angst#tom holland x reader#tom holland x you#spiderman
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Auntie ‘Soka and Little Leia (and Rex)
The counterpart to Uncle Ben and Little Luke (Original Post, Chrono)
Listen. You all knew this was coming.
This got... very long and detailed and I’m going to have to clean it up and post to AO3. As in, this was supposed to be 2-3k and is literally ten times that long. It crossed 25k. And the initial section actually glosses over a bunch, actual fic-style writing starts at “That, of course, is when things get interesting.”
Warnings: discussion of various canon traumas (most relating to being child soldiers), general PTSD, several scenes featuring dissociation or panic attacks upon being triggered, and canon-typical violence.
Rated T, gen.
I still want there to be de-aging nonsense involved so Ahsoka is physically a late teenager despite having a solid two decades of field experience behind her (we’re pulling her from Malachor).
Leia, much like Luke, is now six. She just came from being a rebellion general. She is not happy about being a child. She was already short, this is just mean. She’s a human espresso.
UNLIKE BEN, Ahsoka is not happy about this turn of events. Being seventeen-ish is not helpful in the outer rim. She’s a female togruta, young and healthy, and in the Outer Rim, caring for a small human child. Sure, she has her lightsabers and plenty of combat experience, and she can keep them safe, but she’s just one person, and a major target for those looking to make some quick cash. It doesn’t matter how good she is; she needs sleep at some point.
It makes my heart happy to treat Ahsoka and Rex as two halves of the same black ops specialist so you know what, he’s there too! He’s physically like... 10-12 in natborn, maybe. They’re not sure, because clones age weird. He’s moderately more useful than Leia (who is very competent but also physically six, and short for that age), but he’s still... very small.
Reminder that none of them have been born yet.
Ahsoka has a harder time explaining WHY she has children with her, since she's barely more than a kid herself, and clearly unrelated by species. She sometimes just says “Oh, my adoptive brother’s kids” since it’s kind of the truth for Leia and she’s not touching the actual truth about Rex with a ten foot pole.
Ahsoka definitely knows about Leia being a Skywalker, or at least has suspicions that Bail never outright confirmed but was conspicuously quiet about. She does tell Leia about it, but it’s not like that means anything, right? Just, you know, your dad was my teacher! I don’t have to tell you he became Va--oh shit, you already knew that part. Well, fuck. What do you mean he had a son? OH SHIT, PADME HAD TWINS.
Alt take for explaining why she’s got kids: She’s my foundling, I know her name as my child (Leia shut up!!!)
(Ahsoka can fake Mandalore. Sometimes.)
That said, there is... significantly less gambling and significantly more theft to get to Coruscant.
As previously stated, Ahsoka is a black ops kinda gal, and more importantly, she looks like a fairly attractive young woman in the Outer Rim, with two children in good health. She’s a target, and also not the kind of person one generally gambles with. If she does gamble, people get upset when she doesn’t lose, in ways they don’t get upset about Ben doing the same, because she’s, again, a cute teenage girl. It’s exhausting.
As things go, she largely ends up stealing from people who deserve it and/or smuggling herself and her charges into someone else’s ship. They’re small, they can hide. Sometimes she can get them all passage by working as a mechanic, she’s good at that.
Once they’ve got a handle on when they are, they have to decide on Names. None of them have been born yet, so technically they could use their own names without anyone Knowing. Rex and Leia might not even be born, depending on how successful they are at, you know, stopping the war and everything. Ahsoka, though, she’s going be born in two years, and there’s no reason to prevent it, so... she doesn’t want to steal baby-her’s name. That would be mean.
Leia is already calling her “Auntie ‘Soka” when she can for reasons like “selling the bit” and “manipulating adults” and “making us both feel better after we had a mutual breakdown about Anakin being Vader.” Ergo, she decides that whatever new name she picks better include that in some way, and decides on “Sokari” because it sounds pretty.
Overall, they don’t... they don’t actually make it very far before there’s an Incident. Again, teenager with small children. They spend a lot of time hiding out in space ports looking for an opportunity.
That, of course, is when things get interesting.
Specifically, Ahsoka spots a Mandalorian.
She doesn’t recognize the armor. She does recognize the sigil, and thinks ‘well, they’re more likely to help than some,’ because from what she’s heard, the Haat Mando’ade are Decent People Overall. Her view is a little biased, mostly on account of the sheer level of grudge she has against Kyr’tsad. It’s fine! The True Mandalorians have the same grudge, right? And Mandalorians like kids and Ahsoka hasn’t slept in five days and it’s fine. It’s fine! IT’S FINE.
“Oh shit,” Rex whispers, before she can suggest anything. “Oh fuck.”
“Stop cursing,” Leia hisses, elbowing him. “People are going to notice.”
“That’s the Prime,” Rex panics, mostly quiet. Ahsoka’s heart drops, because fuck is right. “That’s Fett.”
Leia isn’t impressed. Ahsoka just angles herself between Fett and Rex and hopes that he doesn’t see them. That’s just asking for trouble.
Unfortunately, Ahsoka is in fact running on none sleep with left trauma, and doesn’t notice Fett walking up and dropping into a seat across from them until he’s actually done so, removing his helmet to glare a little more efficiently.
“Wanna explain why your kid has my face?”
Ahsoka later tells herself that he’s killed Jedi and that’s why he can sneak up on her, and that she can be forgiven some slip-ups with the exhaustion being what it is, and that she’s obviously going to be dealing with some emotional instability in light of the sudden return of teenage hormones and new forms of anxiety that are markedly different from those she was dealing with a few weeks ago.
What Ahsoka wants to say is “that’s kind of a long story,” or “maybe he’s a cousin,” or “kriff off, I don’t know you,” or maybe even “he’s a clone.”
What Ahsoka actually does is burst into tears, which is embarrassing for her, for Fett, for the kids, and for the entire rest of the bar.
It really is the straw that broke the eopie’s back. Even when she was actually this age, she didn’t exactly cry much. Objectively, Fett quasi-aggressively asking a valid question shouldn’t send her into a panic. She’s been through torture and worse. She shouldn’t be crying.
But she is, sobbing her eyes out with no control, and he’s just sitting across from her and looking uncomfortable while Rex wraps his little arms--oh Force he’s so small--around her, and both ‘children’ glare at Fett.
“So, I’m going to take it she didn’t kidnap you from a loving family or do something illicit with a blood sample,” Fett says, after it becomes obvious that Ahsoka’s not going to be ready to talk any time soon.
“She didn’t,” Rex says stiffly, with just the right emphasis for Fett to catch what’s implied. Ahsoka just keeps her head down, eyes pressed against the heels of her palms, trying to get her body to stop rebelling against her.
Fett’s eyes dart to Leia, who folds her arms and draws herself up, every bit the unimpressed princess. “My father claimed her as a sister, so she’s my Auntie ‘Soka.”
The man dithers a bit, the conversation clearly not going where he’d expected. “Right,” he says. “You--you’re all kids. I thought she was a little older, at least, but I didn’t have a good look at her face before.”
She is older, but actually admitting that is only going to make this worse, both for her pride and for her chances of making it out alive.
“Where are you staying?”
“What?” Leia bites out.
“You’re kids, you’re alone, and you’re clearly not okay if you were trying to hide the one with my face as blatantly as you did, and then... whatever this is, when I confronted you,” Fett explains. Ahsoka lifts her head to glare at him, but it’s probably not doing much with the way her eyes are rimmed with red and still wet. “Don’t give me that look, ad’ika, your kids looked as confused and horrified by that as the bartender did. They obviously didn’t think it was normal either.”
Well, kriff you too, Ahsoka thinks.
“And what do you mean by ‘blatantly,’ here?” Leia challenges. It’s adorable, but Ahsoka watched this tiny girl shoot a man last week, and wonders when people are going to start taking that seriously.
“There’s a lot of people in this galaxy, and I don’t exactly have the clearest memory of what I looked like at that age,” Fett says, slow and careful like he thinks they’re dumb. Ahsoka decides to chalk it up as being because Leia’s visibly six. “I would have thought it was just a coincidence if you hadn’t put in effort to hide him.”
Leia huffs, and Rex glares harder. Fett just sighs, like they’re all going to give him grey hairs.
“You can explain whatever the hell’s going on,” Fett says. “I’ll let you stay on my ship, there’s a spare bunk and you’re small.”
“For free?” Rex demands.
“A night on a bunk in exchange for information,” Fett clarifies. “We can negotiate from there.”
Ahsoka takes a few moments, notes that both of the others are waiting on her for the decision, and cringes. She doesn’t feel steady enough to carry that. She has to anyway.
“Rex?” she asks, voice rasping after the breakdown of the past few minutes.
“Yeah?”
“How much?”
He looks up at her, eyes calculating, and grimaces. “We don’t want Order 66. A warning is better, even if we... share information.”
She nods, and turns to Leia. “Any premonitions, princess?”
Leia glowers, cute and furious. “No.”
“No, don’t tell, or no, you aren’t getting any vibes about sharing info one way or the other?”
“The latter,” Leia clarifies, huffy to the last.
“Right,” Ahsoka says, and then just... hesitates. “Fett...”
“You’ve got conditions,” he guesses.
She bares her teeth in what could have, through a squint and perhaps a few drinks, been called an apologetic smile. “Just one, really.”
“Yeah?”
“No hurting, killing, or turning us in for bounties,” she says. “Any of us.”
“You’re children, I wouldn’t.”
She blinks at him, slow and careful. She hesitates. She reaches down, out of sight, sees him stiffen.
She unclips her sabers from her belt and puts them on the table.
His eyes are fixed on the weapons the second they enter his line of sight, and don’t move as he clearly realizes why she made the condition she did.
“I left years ago, because I couldn’t stay without it ruining me,” she says. Still slow. Still careful. She’s so tired. “But if I want to keep Leia safe, I have to get back to Coruscant.”
His eyes finally lift from the sabers, expression blank. “Just her?”
“Rex doesn’t have the same monsters coming after him,” she says. “If it were just me and him, I’d worry less. Leia’s a different kind of target.”
“You’re putting a lot of faith on the table by telling me that,” Fett says, voice flat and toneless. “Considering my occupation.”
“She’s a child,” Ahsoka says, feeling heavy and boneless. “Even with what I was and will be, even with what money you would get from the right buyer, you wouldn’t.”
“There are other risks.”
“There are.”
They stare at each other for too long, probably, and then Fett jerks as Rex kicks him under the table. The boys glare for a moment, and then Rex says, “If she weren’t good, I’d still be a slave to those who grew me.”
Fett blinks, and then nearly growls the word, “What?”
“She freed me,” Rex reiterates. “While I was trying to shoot her.”
Ahsoka lifts a hand and puts it on his far shoulder, pulling him into her side. She doesn’t meet Fett’s eyes again, because part of her is back on Mandalore, dodging her own soldiers and crying out as her family dies across the galaxy.
Fett breathes in. Breathes out. He puts a hand to his head, visibly frustrated. “Fine. A good Jedi kid, and two smaller kids, one of which is apparently in some way mine.”
Rex makes a face, which is fair, but also not helping.
“To the ship,” Ahsoka says, putting her sabers back on her belt and sliding out of the seat. “I’m... I’m Sokari.”
“You already know my name.”
“I do.”
---------------------------
Fett watches her like she’s a predator, which has the benefit of being accurate and slightly flattering. She lets other two take care of most of talking, and then Fett tells her to sleep first, and talk in the morning.
“You’re dead on your feet, jetii,” he snorts. “And that crying jag didn’t do you any favors. Sleep.”
So she does, and Fett doesn’t even wake her. He just lets her sleep. He watches her in the way of a guard. She sees him when she gets up to use the ‘fresher in the middle of the night, but he doesn’t even comment when she collapses right back into the mediocre cot she’s borrowed for the cycle.
Rex and Leia are safe, her hindbrain tells her, even in the depths of sleep. Her mind curls around theirs in the Force, and she trusts that they are here. They are not happy, but they are alive and unharmed, and that has to be enough.
When she stumbles her way to true wakefulness, groggy and loose-limbed, Fett greets her with caf.
“The kids wouldn’t let me near you,” he tells her.
“They’re good,” she says, cupping her hands around the mug. She feels wobbly, in every sense. Her body, her mind, her emotions, her connection to the Force. Nothing is on-kilter right now. “Did they tell you anything?”
“They waited for you,” he says. “But the little miss needed a nap of her own. They’re down in the other bunk.”
“I didn’t notice,” she admits. She should have. She’s Fulcrum. She’s a veteran of the Clone Wars. She’s... she’s supposed to be better than this.
“How long?” he asks, and then when she squints up at him, he clarifies. “How long did you fight?”
“My last fight--”
“No, whatever war you came out of,” he says. Her chest twists cold. “I don’t know if the Jedi sent you into it or if you waded in yourself once you left, but you move like a soldier.”
“I was,” she confirms. “But... but I don’t want to talk about the details. Not until the other two are here.”
He frowns at her. “Is there anything you can talk about?”
She shrugs and looks away, trying to take solace in the warmth of the caff she holds above the table, as if it can hide her, guard her, from the disgraced Mand’alor across the table.
“Jedi?”
“I’m not officially a Jedi,” she says, voice quiet. “Not anymore.”
“Then what do I call you?” he asks. “We’re not exactly close enough for names.”
“Torrent,” she says. “It’s not--I can’t claim my family name anymore. But I can claim Torrent, so I will. And if you want a title, I was a commander.”
“Bit young for that.”
“I got the rank when I was fourteen,” she says, and watches his face do something complicated and unpleasant. “Don’t. I know your own culture puts children on the field that young.”
“Not in command.”
She shrugs. “Yeah, well... the soldiers were technically younger. Adults, but...”
Ahsoka can see the way he casts about to figure out what species grows at that rate. He guesses a few, and she shoots all of it down.
She won’t tell him. Not until Rex is awake.
This part of the story is his.
--------------------------
When Leia tries to sit alone, a foot away on the bench like a proper adult, Ahsoka refuses to let it happen. She pulls the younger girl to her side and quells protests with a glance. It’s a decent skill, but she’s not sure how long it’s going to work on her niece-in-spirit.
“Your body needs the chemical release of skinship,” she says, and Leia glares at her. “I spent way too much time with the boys to not know about this. Deal.”
Rex sits close enough to knock their knees together under the table, and his warmth is the old comfort she needs.
“Do you want the story you’ll believe, or the truth?” Ahsoka asks.
“What’s the difference?”
“One of them involves something so impossible that even most Jedi wouldn’t believe it,” she tells him.
Fett folds his arms and leans forward to rest them on the table, challenging but oddly open. “Try me.”
“Time travel.”
He blinks, just once, fully controlled. “That’s a tough one.”
“There were only three Jedi left alive when I died,” she says. “Or... whatever it is that happened to me. I think I died. All I know is that one moment, I was thirty-two and dying, and the next, I was... seventeen again, and had these two with me. All of us younger than we were. None of us have even been born yet.”
She refuses to look him in the eye. “They both outlived me by... six years, maybe. Got caught up while traveling instead of dying. Leia was twenty-two. Rex was thirty-five. I’m not technically the oldest anymore. I mean, physically I am, but that doesn’t mean anything, and it’s not exactly doing us any good, and--”
Rex bumps his shoulder to her arm. “I dunno, Commander. I’ve spent a long time looking older than I should. Nice to look younger for once.”
She shoots him a small, pained grin. “Could be worse, yeah.”
“Let’s say I believe you.”
Her attention snaps back to Fett, who’s looking damnably blank, and is showing even less in the Force.
He waits a second for her to relax back into her seat.
“Let’s say I believe you,” he repeats. “How’s ‘Rex’ connected to me? What’s so special about Leia there? And what war did you fight in that has you acting like a veteran?”
“Three years in the clone wars,” she whispers, glancing to Rex and forcing herself to not go for her sabers to defend against an attack that her paranoia says is coming and the Force says is not. “Then almost all the Jedi were wiped out at once, and I spent a year... drifting. Then black ops for the next fifteen.”
“Black ops,” he repeats, still damnably flat.
“There was a Sith Empire,” she says, and she can hear her own tone growing somehow emptier. “Glassing planets. Enslaving entire species. Committing genocides all over. Of course, there was a rebellion, and of course I joined it. I was one of the only people left with Jedi training. For all that I’d left the Order, I still had a duty to the universe.”
His eyes flit to Leia, who shrugs and tries to look prim. “I was adopted and raised by one of the founders of the rebellion, a movement built on the desire to instate freedom and democracy in a galaxy that had lost even the pretense.”
“That why you’re special?”
Leia smiles, thin and patronizing. It doesn’t fit on her little face. “I’m special because my biological father was one of the most powerful Force users in history, and his Fall to the dark side and choice to become a Sith is why the Emperor’s rise was nearly uncontested. I do not like power, but it’s in my veins and I can’t change that. Force users are... a lucrative trade, and I’m still the size of a child, so I can’t fight back. I’ll be safer in the Jedi Temple, even if I don’t want to be a Jedi.”
Fett looks to Ahsoka, makes to ask a question, and then shakes his head. Not the time, maybe.
“So, that’s all... very complicated and I don’t know how much of it I believe, but it doesn’t explain...” he trails off, and sighs. “My kid, or whatever you are. I heard you mention clones.”
Rex grins. It is not a kind expression.
“Let me tell you about Kamino.”
---------------------------
Ahsoka has no idea if Fett believes them. Either he thinks they’re telling the truth, or he thinks their delusional kids. Whatever the case, he offers to take them closer to the Core. Ahsoka quietly offers to take a look at his engine in return, and then pretends not to notice when Fett awkwardly drifts to and away from Rex.
“They put chips in our brains to make us kill the Jedi we respected, cared for, even loved. I tried to shoot ‘Soka, Fett. She was seventeen and risked her life to get that chip out of my head while I was trying to kill her. I have never hated myself more than when I woke up and realized what I’d almost done, and I was one of the few that were able to fight it. I heard the stories of dozens of brothers who woke with their chips having degraded and chose to eat their blaster rather than live with the guilt of the orders they’d followed without question because of a thrice-damned Sith slave chip in their head.”
“So no, I won’t call you father or acknowledge you as clan until you do something to prove you’re worth it, shared blood or not.”
What Ahsoka does get out of the arrangement, for all that Fett’s route mostly takes them on a meandering path that isn’t faster than their previous system, is sleep. She gets to rest. She gets to trust that Fett won’t kill Rex, out of guilt for something he hasn’t done, that he won’t kill Leia out of a worry that she’s just a delusional child, a real child, that he won’t kill ‘Sokari’ because it would ruin any chance of gaining Rex’s favor, ever.
She’s not safe, won’t believe she can be until she’s in the Temple and Sidious is dead dead dead, but she’s safer than she’s been in a long time.
Every night, Ahsoka wakes up and stumbles to the little galley, deaths and torture sparkling behind her eyes with the energy of a thousand lost Jedi, ten thousand mourned brothers and sisters.
She is not the only one of their little group to be a survivor of a near-total genocide, but Rex could not feel his brothers die in the Force, even if his nightmares featured what they heard of suicide missions by the emperor’s favored shock troopers, and Leia had... Alderaan had more off-world survivors than there had been Jedi at all.
It’s not worth comparing their pain. It’s stupid to even think it. Part of her can’t help but do it anyway.
“Caf?”
She feels a lek twitch in response to the voice of the only other person on board who can reach the top shelf. “I probably shouldn’t.”
“Whiskey?”
“That’s a definitely shouldn’t.”
“Hoth chocolate?”
“...please.”
She doesn’t lift her head from her arms until the mug clicks down in front of her, ceramic on plastisteel.
“Do I ask what it was this time?”
She shrugs. “It’s hard to explain to non-sensitives.”
“Try me anyway.”
Ahsoka twists the Hoth chocolate in her hands, takes a sip as she thinks. “The Force isn’t just one thing. It’s... energy and philosophy and spirit, a sense of being that ties the entire universe together. Sentient and inanimate and living and dead, empty space and lush forests and stifled cities. For those of us who are sensitive to it, it’s possible to feel the life of everyone around you, theoretically possible to feel entire systems. If you have a Force bond, like a master and padawan, that can stretch across planets, even systems if one or both are particularly powerful.
“So just... just imagine, for a moment, what it’s like to feel the screaming of all those Jedi in the Force as their trusted men shot them down.
“Some of them were close enough that I could feel them die,” she manages. “I... it’s horrible. It’s horrific. It’s not something I can ever forget, and I want to. I want to forget what that moment was like. Not that it happened, but...”
She can feel the tears. Fuck..
“You want to dull the edges.”
“Don’t we all?” she asks, scrubbing the back of her hand across her eyes. “Leia lost her entire planet, billions of people, and she was forced to watch. Rex... Force, I can barely imagine, and I was there for most of it.”
Fett watches her, measuring. “From what he said, they were as much your brothers as his, by the end.”
“No,” she immediately denies. “They could have been, maybe, but the ones I was closest to died earlier, and then I left, and by the time the Empire rose, all but a handful were... no. Rex, I will claim as a brother in all the ways that matter, but I don’t get to do that with the rest. I don’t have the right.”
“You’re hard on yourself.”
“Fate of the galaxy, my good bitch. Guess who’s got it on her shoulders.”
He snorts at her, and nods at the mug. “Drink your Hoth chocolate. We’re landing in eight hours, and you’ve got kids to look out for.”
---------------------------
There’s a twitch in the Force when they land, something pulling at her in a way she barely feels. She’s had her shields up so fully for so long that it’s natural to hide away what she is to the point where she can hardly tell what anyone else is, either. It takes more than a moment to remember how to let herself spread out across the world.
“Auntie ‘Soka? Why’d you stop?”
She doesn’t have an answer to Leia’s prodding question. “I don’t know.”
It’s almost familiar. Old and half-forgotten, not the same as what she remembers, but--
“This way,” she says, and wanders off into the crowd. Leia and Rex follow without question. Fett curses and rushes through the rest of his transaction with the docking attendant. The sound of him jogging after them is almost funny, with the armor, but she can’t focus on that.
Ahsoka slips between people with the ease of a career built on such a habit, children trailing like ducklings. She knows this feeling, she knows this person, what is she missi--
“Oh,” she breathes, going stock still. She knows that face. She knows those braids. She even knows the presence.
Younger than Ahsoka had ever seen her, but unmistakably Master Billaba.
“Torrent, what the hell?” Fett demands, finally catching up. “You can’t just run off like that!”
“It’s Depa,” she says, eyes still fixed on the woman parsing through a datapad with an irritated vendor. She has a padawan braid. It doesn’t feel like Master Windu is on-planet, so this might be a solo mission, a... oh. Senior Padawan, Knight Elect. This is the kind of mission taken to test if she’s ready to be promoted.
Ahsoka feels light-headed.
Fett waits for her to elaborate, but she can’t. This was Kanan’s master. This was a member of the High Council. This was a woman who died and--
“You need to sit down,” Fett says, not a touch gruff. He puts a hand on her shoulder and guides her off the main walkway. “I’m... going to talk to the woman in the Jedi robes. You three just stay there and don’t get kidnapped.”
Ahsoka nods, feeling like she’s not quite inhabiting her own body.
It’s Depa.
Her eyes track Fett without conscious control, and her montrals pick up the sound.
Depa looks up when the armor comes close enough, free hand tensed in a way that says she’s preventing herself from reaching for a saber in reaction to the heavily-armored individual standing several feet away.
“Mando,” the woman says. “May I help you?”
“Are you Depa?”
Depa doesn’t do anything so dramatic as gape or step back, but she does blink rapidly for a moment. She then folds her hands down in front of her, drawing her spine up ramrod straight. “I am Jedi Padawan Depa Billaba, yes. May I ask why it is that you need to know?”
Ahsoka imagines Fett grimacing, or rolling his eyes, or maybe dithering. She can’t tell from this angle, and he has a helmet on besides. It turns his awkward silences into judgmental ones.
“I’ve had some Jedi kids on my ship, hitching a ride,” he says at length. “One of them recognized you and then just... froze.”
“You have our younglings in your care,” Depa says, carefully not accusatory, but close enough to be a warning.
“Not quite,” he says. “The one that actually came from the temple is seventeen. One of ‘em isn’t Force Sensitive, and the last one is but hasn’t been to Coruscant before. They’re trying to get the little one to the Temple for her own safety.”
Depa considers that, and then passes the datapad to the vendor. “Lead on.”
It’s surprisingly simple, really. Fett did all the talking.
And then Depa is standing right in front of her.
“Like I said,” Fett sighs. “She froze up.”
“Hello,” Depa says, hands laced together inside her sleeves. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”
Ahsoka shakes her head. “I know of you. I’ve seen you spar. You’ve never spoken to me.”
All true. A little misleading, but it’s fine, it’s all fine.
Depa waits a moment, and then says, “You seem to have me at a disadvantage. You know my name, but I don’t know yours.���
“Sokari T-Torrent,” she manages. The words feel clunky in her mouth, the sound abrasive for all that it’s just her own voice, no different from usual. A little shaky, maybe. She can feel a cool breeze on her upper arms. Shouldn’t she have armor? She should have armor. “It... it’s been a long time since I’ve seen another Jedi. I’m having a hard time believing you’re real.”
“I see,” Depa says. “Perhaps we should take this somewhere more private? You seem a little unsteady.”
Ahsoka lets herself be led back to the ship, in the company of Mand’alor Jango Fett, Jedi Padawan Depa Billaba, Princess-General Leia Organa, and good old Captain Rex.
It’s like the start of a sick joke.
---------------------------
Fett and Depa talk where she can hear, but they rarely address her directly. Both seem to realize that she’s not particularly useful right now. Leia and Rex are pressing up against her at the little table in the galley, and Ahsoka lets them.
This is real. She can feel Depa in the Force, recognizes her energy even if it’s not quite what it will-was-could-have-been. This is happening.
It’s a textbook Traumatic Stress Response case, one of them says.
Fett has his helmet off. Ahsoka’s sure that’s wrong for some reason. She thinks he might already be on wanted lists. Should she worry about Depa trying to arrest him?
Depa asks about Rex at one point. Fett tells her that someone cloned him without his knowing, but the kid is more comfortable with Ahsoka so they’re still working on what that means for him.
It’s more or less true. Rex squeezes her hand the one time someone suggests separating them. She’s not letting that happen unless Rex wants to leave for whatever reason. They’ve worked apart before. They can do it again.
“Auntie Soka? You’re shivering.”
Is she?
Leia cuddles in closer, and Ahsoka runs a hand over her hair. It’s an absentminded motion, and for all that she knows Leia’s hair is fine as silk, it feels like plastic in the moment.
“I don’t think I’m okay,” Ahsoka announces. The words hang in the air like lead balloons, and she can feel Depa staring at her. “I haven’t been for a very long time.”
“Yeah, we noticed,” Fett says. “Do you need to lay down, Torrent?”
Does she?
“No,” she says. “I... I don’t know what I need.”
“The spicy drink,” Rex tells them. “It’s grounding.”
Right. That.
Fett goes to grab it, and Depa continues to watch.
“How long ago did you leave your master?” Depa asks. “Or... did he die?”
Ahsoka closes her eyes and shakes her head. She can feel the shivers now, tremors in her biceps and a shudder she can’t control in the height of her ribcage. Her teeth grind together, jaw like stone.
“You don’t have to answer that,” Depa assures her. “I’m... going to recommend you see a mind healer on Coruscant.”
That was a forgone conclusion.
A cup clinks onto the table. Fett’s back. “Drink.”
She does.
Depa and Fett continue discussing it as “the adults” at the table. She’s older than both of them. Rex is older than all of them. Ahsoka follows about half of what they say. She agrees with most of it. Rex bullies his way into speaking when she doesn’t, without her even asking, because he knows her mind as well as she does. Fett rolls with it. Depa lets him.
She’s going to reach out to the Temple and see about getting them a ride back to Imperial Center Coruscant.
Fett makes Soka go to bed, taking Leia with her.
---------------------------
She feels more like a person come morning.
Depa’s sitting at the table, datapad in her hands and caff on the table in front of her.
“Good morning,” Ahsoka says, rough and croaking, and Depa’s eyes flick up to meet hers. She nods a shallow hello.
“Feeling better?”
“Much,” Ahsoka says, and goes about gathering a breakfast. There’s definitely some dried meat in here. She can get something fresh when they stop by the market later.
“I was hoping to speak with you about your options,” Depa tells her, once she’s sat at the table. “Fett and your friend Rex took care of most of the negotiation, and I feel like I have an idea of what would work best for you.”
Ahsoka nods slowly. “Okay.”
“There is a Master-Padawan pair a few planets away,” Depa says. “The Council informed me when I spoke with them about you and your wards. They’d be headed back to the Temple in a few days anyway, and the Council has agreed to extend an offer to Fett to handle the transportation. The presence of a Jedi Master on board will allow for him to get in and out of the Core unmolested, and we’d like for you and yours to have a Jedi escort, given what happened yesterday afternoon.”
Her complete spiral into nonbeing?
“I understand,” she says instead. “I suppose Fett agreed because he’s still trying to get Rex to like him?”
Depa shrugs. “That part isn’t my business.”
Of course it isn’t.
“Rex can stay with me for a while, right?” Ahsoka finally asks. “I know it’s not exactly protocol, but I’m...”
“In need of a support system until you’ve seen a mind healer, and against all odds, the child is part of it,” Depa summarizes. “Yes, I recognized as much. I think the Council will be able to allow some leeway there. I don’t know if he’ll enjoy it, given that all the others his age are Initiates, but we can adjust as necessary. On that note... Do you know Leia’s midichlorian count?”
“No,” Ahsoka says, and hesitantly adds, “But her biological father was my Jedi Master, and I’m told his count broke records even as a child. Given what Leia’s shown so far... it’s why I’ve been in a hurry to get her to the Temple.”
Depa frowns at her, clearly working through the implications of a Jedi having a daughter and still teaching... and then visibly dismisses the situation, eyes closing to breathe in the steam of her caff.
Biological father certainly implies a child that was raised by her mother or adopted out so the Jedi father could remain in their chosen career without a conflict of interest or duty.
She’ll tell the council the truth, or... at least Master Koon. Master Kenobi is still a padawan, but she can tell Master Koon.
She already told Jango Fett, of all people.
“Padawan Torrent?”
Her head snaps up. She hasn’t been a padawan in over fifteen years. It’s weird to hear. “I’m sorry, what?”
“I asked if you wanted some time to think it over before I presented the offer to Fett,” Depa says.
Ahsoka gets the distinct feeling that Depa is planning a report to the Council that has ‘needs a mind healer’ underlined at least three times.
“No, I’m--I’m fine. That sounds like a good plan.”
“I’ll speak with him, then. Would you like to come with?”
"No, thank you.”
---------------------------
Fett agrees. Ahsoka’s pretty sure it’s all to do with Rex and maybe Leia. It’s probably nothing to do with ‘Sokari.’ She’s a Jedi, an adult in mind and in body, or at least close enough to count. She’s a damn sight more ‘enemy’ to Fett than the other two are. Not as much as Depa, maybe, but Fett’s been playing nice with her for Leia’s sake.
He plays nice with Ahsoka for Rex’s. That’s all.
They’re only a few planets over from the meeting point, and they have a few days to hang around before the escort meets them. Depa hadn’t given them a name--apparently it could have compromised the opsec for the Jedi team--but Ahsoka’s pretty sure she’ll be able to identify almost anyone. She gets the feeling that the Force is going to send her a familiar face, just as it did Master Padawan Billaba.
Ahsoka lets herself feel the world around her. It’s dark and dreary, in the sense that the beaten-down port is full of petty crimes and less petty horrors, but it’s still lighter than most of the Empire had been. She sneaks away from the ship at night, ignoring Fett at her back, and performs a bit of vigilante justice while she can. She’ll be banned from doing so as soon as she’s reinstated as a Jedi, probably, but for now... for now, she can look at the drug cartels and ‘they’re not slaves, really’ workers and do something to help.
She doesn’t use her sabers. She doesn’t need to. It’s been a long time since she has, for small fry like these.
“What are you doing?” Fett asks her, landing heavily behind her back.
“Chip removal,” she says, hand pressed to the slave’s leg. Her eyes are closed, but she can hear him shifting. “Let me concentrate, I don’t have a meddroid for this.”
He’s silent until she finishes, and waits until the people she’s helped are on their way to the planet’s freedom routes. He doesn’t ask what she did with the owners.
“You’ve done this before.”
“Regularly,” she confirms. “You?”
He doesn’t answer that, just ambles over to the the chains and stares down at them.
“Fett?”
“You go through this like it’s as easy as breathing,” he says. “It’s... impressive.”
“I guess?” she hesitates to continue. “I’m... I don’t think of it that way. This is the easy stuff. A time-waster that helps people. If I wanted to help for real, I’d been going after Jabba or Sidious or--”
“How old were you?” he asks, turning on his heel to face her dead-on. The vocoder of his helmet pulls the emotion from his voice. “When did this... these missions, the slavery battles, when did that start for you?”
“Fourteen,” she says. She’s not entirely sure, really, what counted as a mission for ending slavery and what counted as just a part of war, but she can round down. “Maybe fifteen. It’s a bit of a blur.”
“And you just kept doing it.”
“Of course,” she says. “If I have the time and the energy, if I need to do something and there’s nothing official on my hands, why not?”
He doesn’t answer her.
---------------------------
Rex greets them before she does.
Ahsoka, in her defense, is asleep at the time. It’s a restless sleep, but it’s enough that she doesn’t sense the nearing Force signatures until they’re almost at the ship.
She recognizes one of them.
“Auntie ‘Soka?” Leia questions, when she lurches to her feet and starts pulling on her boots with all the energy of a zombie. “Where are you going?”
“Jedi,” Ahsoka grunts. “Here.”
“I see.”
Leia dresses to follow her, in a little coat that’ll withstand the chill of the outside air, and Ahsoka makes it to the cargo hold just in time to hear Rex saying, “I’m not shaking your hand until you put your gloves on, Vos.”
She laughs to herself, breathless with the knowledge of what she’s about to find. She jumps the railing of the upper walkway, drops down just in front of the Master-Padawan team, and keeps her back to Fett and Rex. “Hello, there.”
One human, one Kiffar. She knows the latter.
“Would you be Sokari Torrent?” the Master asks.
“I am,” she says, with a slight bow. She can tell there’s a bit of judgement for how she’s dressed, but they’re covering it well. A Shadow and his trainee know the value of armor better than most Jedi bother with. “I’m afraid Padawan Billaba didn’t inform me of your names before we met.”
“And yet your friend knew my padawan,” the Master says.
“By reputation,” she says, as smoothly as she can. “I’ve encountered Quinlan Vos before, though I doubt he remembers--”
“I’d remember someone like you,” Quinlan interrupts, with a grin she’s sure is meant to be charming and rogueish.
He’s... very young for her, and not her type. Mostly, she wants to pat him on the head, but that probably wouldn’t go over very well. She still looks like she’s younger than him.
“Anyway,” she says, turning back to the master, “I’m afraid I still don’t know who you are, Master.”
“I am Tholme,” he says, with the bow that a Master gives a Padawan. She feels a little slighted, but it’s fine. She looks the right age, it’s fine.
It’s not like they know.
“It’s nice to meet you, Master Tholme,” she says. “My charges are Rex Torrent, the young man behind me, and currently coming down the ladder is Leia Antilles. I’m sure you’re aware of Jango Fett.”
“The Mand’alor,” Quinlan volunteers, and Ahsoka can almost hear Fett’s teeth grinding.
“Don’t call me that,” he says. She’s sure he’s got a hand drifting for his blaster.
“There isn’t a whole lot of room on the ship,” she says before the men can get into whatever weird contest she’s sure someone might start. Her bet’s on Fett. “But Leia and Rex are small enough to share with me, so I’m sure we can make it work.”
“There’s spare rolls for anyone comfortable with sleeping in the hold,” Fett grunts. “Or on the floor in the passenger room.”
“Well, I guess I could ask for a little help fi--”
“Vos,” Ahsoka snaps, letting her voice take on the kind of ‘obey me or get fresher duty’ irritation that she’d perfected back when the rebellion still had her managing people, before they’d realized she was more use in the field. “Do not.”
There’s a moment’s pause, and Tholme looks unimpressed with that raised eyebrow, but the kind of unimpressed that’s split between his own padawan and the stranger before him.
“Um,” Quinlan says. “I just--”
“No,” she cuts him off. “No flirting.”
It’s weird and uncomfortable and she’d have maybe been okay with it if she was actually the seventeen-or-eighteen-ish(?) that she looked, but she’s not. She’s in her thirties and Vos is... what, twenty? Twenty-one? No.
He stares at her, and she wonders momentarily if she’d gone too far in the direction of judging his intentions in the Force and preempted actual flirtations.
“I’m sorry?” He offers, looking confused, but ashamed. “I, uh, I’ll keep that in mind.”
She definitely preempted the actual flirtation.
Fuck.
Ahsoka closes her eyes and breathes in. Breathes out. Opens her eyes. “Right. That was... I’m not sure how much Padawan Billaba told you about me.”
“Enough,” Tholme says. He moves forward and puts a hand on Quinlan’s shoulder. Ahsoka has no idea if it’s to comfort him or hold him back. “I didn’t share most of it with my padawan, but I have a general understanding of what’s going on.”
Quinlan darts a look at his teacher, but Ahsoka doesn’t acknowledge it. It’s fine. Everything is fine.
“Thank you for your understanding,” she says, and bows, and stiffly turns away to walk to the galley.
---------------------------
Leia squirms into the bench seat, shoving her way under Ahsoka’s arm like a particularly wriggly tooka.
“What was that?” Leia demands, the authority of a rebellion general rather useless in the squeaky voice of a child.
“What was what?”
“The whole thing with Padawan Vos,” Leia says. “You blew up at him before he even did anything.”
That’s pretty true.
“I felt the flirtation coming before it happened and reacted inappropriately because I panicked. I’m significantly older than him, but I can’t tell him that, so it’s just awkward and uncomfortable and... I’m not okay, Princess. I haven’t been for a long time.”
“Yeah, we can tell.”
“Leia.”
“What? I need therapy too! Captain Rex needs therapy! I’m pretty sure Fett needs therapy! You, Fulcrum, you really need therapy. None of us are okay.” She huffs, wiggling impossibly closer. “I don’t like it, but it’s true.”
“I know,” Ahsoka groans. “I just... I just need to hold out until the Temple.”
“Will you be able to hold it together if you see someone you actually care about?” Leia demands. “What are you going to do when you see Kenobi?”
“Stop.”
“I’m serious, you--”
“Leia, that’s enough,” she snaps. “I was fighting that war before you were even born, and I’ve dealt with the consequences since. I know the risks and I’ll thank you to remember who taught you to control your own mind.”
Leia stiffens, sucking in a sharp breath. “That was uncalled for.”
“You’re not the child you appear to be,” Ahsoka reminds her, not a little sharply. “You want to dish it out, be ready to take it. What will you do when we see Bail Organa? When we see the toddler that is Anakin Skywalker?”
“I get it.”
“I’m not sure you do,” Ahsoka mutters. She isn’t surprised when Leia ducks out of the embrace and leaves the galley. She lets the girl go, guilt warring with the memory of how Master Kenobi had more than once spoken that way to Anakin at the height of the war. The fact that she’s an adult in the body of a child isn’t an excuse for poking at Ahsoka’s open wounds. It was cruel and unnecessary, and unbecoming of a... not a Jedi. A princess. A politician.
She rests her head on her arms and zones out. She should meditate, but that seems like... too much effort.
She can feel Vos and Tholme setting up in the room they’ve been assigned. Neither seems particularly angry. Most likely, Tholme’s given the absolute shortest explanation of ‘child soldier, dead master, highly traumatized and emotionally unstable’ to Vos to smooth over the incident in the cargo hold. Rex is with Leia; he’s agitated, but less so than Leia herself. Fett’s annoyed, in the cockpit, but he seems annoyed as often as not. There’s a shudder at lift-off, and a few minutes later, they’re in hyperspace, headed for the Core.
Fett finds her, falls into the other bench in full armor, and drops his elbows onto the table. The helmet clunks down a moment later.
She doesn’t lift her head. “What do you want?”
“Do I need to keep Vos away from you?”
“What?”
“Vos. He made you uncomfortable. Was that him being someone that hurt you in the future, or just the interaction being awkward?”
She lifts her head. She stares at him. “What?”
He leans back and crosses his arms. “Do you need me to tell Vos to stay the hell away from you?”
She’s gaping. “You realize I’m thirty-two, right? I can handle my own battles.”
“You’re also traumatized as hell and everyone can see it,” Fett argues back. “If Vos himself is a trigger, I can handle it.”
“He’s not,” she tells him. This is strange. Fett’s being strange. “He was actually a friend of my grandmaster’s. I’m just uncomfortable with the flirting because I’m a lot older than he realizes, and I can’t tell him that.”
He nods sharply, and then looks away. The silence sits.
“Thanks for asking?” Ahsoka says, well aware of how her confusion over the offer turns it into a question. “I mean, thank you for... caring.”
I guess, she finishes in the privacy of her own head. Or at least pretending to.
Fett makes a face, still not facing her. He eyes the galley instead. She can guess where his thoughts are going. The galley is... not very big, especially with six people on board instead of one, but she’s sure they’ve stocked up enough. On the off chance they do go through more than expected, because of how many growing bodies are in residence, they can stop off and buy more. They have those resources now.
Jango never does ask what she did with the slavers.
“Who’s going to cry if I spice things properly?” he asks.
“Probably Leia,” she says immediately. “Vos will try to power through it even though he’s going to be overwhelmed. No idea about Tholme, but I think he’ll keep a straight face whether he likes it or not. Rex and I are fine, ‘hot’ was pretty much the only flavor of seasoning the GAR had.”
“GAR?”
“Grand Army of the Republic.”
He finally looks at her.
“You already knew I was a child soldier, Fett; don’t act surprised.”
“That doesn’t mean I like hearing about it.”
“I was fourteen. That’s old enough by Mando standards, Fett. Just think back, when did you get on the battlefield?”
“I take your point,” he says, lip curling unpleasantly. “It just hits different now that I’m old enough to look back and think of how damned young fourteen really is.”
Ahsoka shrugs. “Yeah, well--”
“You said the clones were ten.”
There’s the rub, isn’t it?
Of course it was about the clones.
“...closer to seven, by the end. Kamino was just making speedies at that point. Triple growth on the average instead of double, but averages in that case meant they’d been growing at double rates for six years and then got forced through four growth cycles in a single year to beef up the army when we kept losing men.” She looks down at the table, picking at a scratch in the plastipaint with her nail. “Rex and the rest of the ones from the beginning were basically twenty in mind and body, even if they’d only been decanted ten years earlier. The speedies... I always wondered. They’d gone from functionally twelve to functionally twenty in a year. That’s not... even in Kamino, that can’t have been normal. They didn’t act like adults, not the way the originals did.”
Fett rubs at his face, groaning. He swears under his breath in three different languages.
She pities him, if only because he hasn’t actually done any of this yet. He’s paying for the crimes of a man he likely won’t ever become.
She kicks him under the table. “Wanna make tiingilar and see how long it takes Vos to start crying while he insists it’s fine?”
---------------------------
Dinner is when the questions start. Some are relatively easy. Others, not so much.
“My Master was Leia’s biological father,” is an easy truth to share. “She inherited his power, so I need to get her to the temple for her own safety, because home no longer is.”
“Yes, her adoptive parents were unfortunately killed rather recently. We’d prefer not to talk about it.”
“Rex is with me. Where he goes, I go, and vice versa.”
That one gets her an odd look.
“I thought...” Quinlan trails off, gesturing between Rex and Fett.
Fett keeps his face impassive, but his discomfort and guilt leak into the Force. “I didn’t know Rex existed until I ran into these three in a spaceport cantina a few weeks ago.”
Quinlan blinks at him, looks at Rex again, and then turns back to Fett with a grin that might have been described as ‘saucy’ if he were less smug about it. “Wild oats, huh?”
“Are you shitting me right now,” Leia whispers, and Ahsoka elbows her.
“That was inappropriate, padawan.”
Quinlan’s grin fades as Fett just continues to eye him.
“Um, so--”
“How old is the kid?” Fett interrupts.
Darting eyes answer him, as Quinlan tries to gauge Rex. “Ten? Maybe twelve?”
“And how old am I?”
“...early thirties?”
“I’m twenty-seven.”
Quinlan’s grin fades further as he does the math.
“I’d have been between fifteen and seventeen when he was born,” Fett says, tone flat. “Between fourteen and sixteen at conception. I know damn well I wasn’t doing anything that could have resulted in a kid at that age.”
Quinlan rallies. “So, brothers?”
Tholme sighs loudly, hand over his eyes.
“I’m a clone,” Rex says, and Ahsoka can feel the amusement he gets out of Quinlan’s confused shock. They’d both had plenty of respect for Master Vos, but Padawan Vos was nothing but trouble. “Harvested genetic material, grown in a tube, inconsistent aging meaning I don’t even know how old I am for sure.”
“I broke him out,” Ahsoka adds, which is half true.
“There was a chip in my head,” Rex adds, with a bright smile. Quinlan’s discomfort grows. “She got it out. Also, lots of brothers. None of them are... around anymore. The creators were trying to make an army.”
Vos and Tholme have no response. Fett looks like he’s been carved out of stone. Leia’s just ignoring them and picking at her food.
Ahsoka lifts a hand and, without looking, Rex high-fives her.
---------------------------
“Drop your elbow.”
Ahsoka tries to cover her smile at the dirty look that Leia shoots Fett. Fett remains unimpressed by the glare of royalty, just gestures for the girl to do as he said.
“I know how to fight,” Leia grumbles. “I took lessons. I was good at them.”
“And I’m better,” Fett says, leaving no room for argument. “You want the Torrents to take over?”
The Torrents. Rex and Soka. She likes being referred to that way. Like they’re a team that never got split up.
Force, she wished they’d never gotten split up.
“Again,” Fett orders, and Leia moves through the Mandalorian kata with ill grace in her emotions and all grace in her sweeping limbs.
Well, as much grace as an undersized six-year-old can, at any rate.
“Think he’ll ask me to spar her again?” Rex asks, dropping down into the seat next to Ahsoka and passing her a drink.
“Maybe,” she acknowledges. “I think he’s wondering if it’s worth asking Vos to spar with her, so she gets more experience with size differences.”
“Hm?”
“She flinched at his face again,” she tells him. “The whole... thing with Boba, I guess. She still won’t tell me why Fett triggers her sometimes, but he’s not pressing her to spar with him, and there’s only so much she can get out of fighting me. Asking Tholme would be presumptuous, but Vos is just a padawan. I think it’d work out.”
“And you?”
She looks at him, already feeling a cresting wave of bullshit she doesn’t want to deal with. “What about me?”
“Are you going to spar with the Jedi?”
She should. She hasn’t sparred with a saber since she got tossed back into a body only half-familiar to her. She’s let Leia borrow the shorter one to learn some basic blocking moves, Shii-Cho and then, with hesitance, the first Soresu form. Another time, she loaned it to Rex to practice some attacks; they both know that the next time he picks up her saber in battle, having lost his weapons or she her grip, it will be neither the first or last time he wields a sword of light. None of that, however, is... sparring.
None of that is against someone who knows what they’re doing.
How long has it been since she sparred with anyone other than Kanan and Ezra?
How long has it been since she sparred without the looming specter of Darth Vader in the back of her mind, without fear of the Inquisitors, without the knowledge that any saber held by someone other than her two friends would be red as blood and twice as drenched.
Would she be able to hold back as she fought?
“I should,” she acknowledges, eyes on where Fett is nudging Leia’s feet into position for some kind of leveraging flip. She’s so small. “It would probably be a good idea to spar against a master at some point.”
“Do you think you can?” Rex asks.
“I never knew him,” she says. “And he isn’t Dark. It should be fine.”
Rex nods, taking her word for it. They watch as Leia stumbles on a final move, and Fett gestures for her to sit down and get a drink.
“That man is a terror,” she informs them.
(She’d once described him as a slave-driver. She had not made that mistake twice.)
“Least it’s not Kamino!” Rex tells her cheerfully. When Leia refuses to look impressed, he laughs at her.
Ahsoka has a half-second’s warning before heavy boots thud to the ground next to her. “What’s Kamino?”
“Hello, Vos, it’s nice to see you too,” she drawls. “I’m good, thanks for asking, and yourself?”
The boy-not-quite-man rolls his eyes. “Hi, Torrents; hi, tiny one.”
Leia glares at him next.
“So, Kamino?”
“Planet by Rishi,” Rex says.
“Why were you there?”
“They specialize in cloning.”
Ahsoka covers her mouth as the conversation drops into the same awkward gap that always happens when Quinlan stumbles into a subject he didn’t know to avoid.
“Like... you were made there, or you were researching how it works for your own--”
Ahsoka slaps a hand over his mouth. “Now’s a great time to stop talking.”
He licks her palm.
She bares her teeth and arches her fingers just enough to press nails into his cheek.
He bites at her palm, and she yanks her hand away.
“You’re all children,” Leia accuses, conveniently forgetting that Ahsoka and Rex are both over a decade older than her.
“I can throw you the length of a swimming pool,” Ahsoka tells her. “One of the fancy competition-ready ones that would make a Tatooinian cry. You are absolutely the child here.”
“Using the Force is cheating, sir,” Rex informs her.
“Only if there’s a competition,” Ahsoka shoots back. “And proving that a certain princess is a small child is not a competition. It’s a declarative fact.”
“I’m going to rip open the seams on all your tops except the ugliest one,” Leia decides.
“Try me,” Ahsoka challenges. “Adi’ka.”
A low, rough cough interrupts them. “Are you done?”
Fett has his arms crossed, and an eyebrow raised. He knows they’re all adults here, and is entirely unamused. As the silence drags, the eyebrow climbs a little higher.
“Done with what?” Quinlan finally asks, thereby volunteering himself to spar in hand-to-hand with Jango Fett, as one does.
“Poor, poor Vos,” Rex laughs, watching as Fett barks out orders at Quinlan every five seconds to fix his footwork, to stop dropping his guard, to stop wasting energy on flips instead of just dodging the easy way.
“Throw him!” Ahsoka calls. To her delight, Fett obliges.
The thing is, Quinlan isn’t bad at brawling. He’s got training, endurance, skill. The man knows what he’s doing, objectively. He’s just not a match for Fett, and is used enough to relying on his saber that his hand-to-hand skills are rusty. They are perhaps less rusty than those Jedi who don’t take questionable jobs in the Mid-Outer Rim, and Ahsoka’s got a suspicion that Vos regularly gets into bar fights in his downtime, but none of that is enough for him to actually do more than survive against Fett without his saber.
Even the saber wouldn’t help, if Fett had his armor.
“Whose idea was this?”
Ahsoka cranes her head back and smiles. “Hello, Master Tholme. Vos... volunteered.”
“Did he know he was volunteering?”
“No comment.”
Tholme snorts, crossing his arms and eyeing the spar in front of him. “I thought Fett hated Jedi. Giving us a ride for the sake of you three is one thing, but why is he teaching my padawan?”
Ahsoka shrugs. “Constructive bullying?”
There’s a small twitch of a smile, quickly gone. “He said something wrong, I’m guessing?”
“There was no way he could have known,” she dismisses. “We’re just, like, ninety-percent tragic backstories.”
“You’d think the Force would warn him,” Rex notes.
“That’s not how the Force works,” Leia chides.
“No, no, he’s right,” Ahsoka corrects. “The Force does sometimes step in to stop a person from saying something stupid. However, Padawan Vos is at an age where people think they are very rational while being more irrational than they likely ever will be again.”
“Do I want to ask what you were doing at that age?” Tholme asks.
“Running bla...” she trails off, then whips around to gape at him.
He smiles, bland and unassuming. “Does Fett know?”
“Know... what?” Ahsoka asks.
“That you’re significantly older than you look,” he says, voice just low enough that the sparring duo can’t hear him. “All three of you.”
Ahsoka turns back to the spar, only catching Tholme out of the corner of her eye. “He knows.”
“Mm. Were you planning on telling the Council?”
“Yes.” That part was never in question. “How did you figure it out?”
“I am a good investigator,” he says. “And you rely a little too heavily on your physical forms to obfuscate. Were it just one of you, that wouldn’t be a problem, but the pattern repeated across three is a little easier to discern.”
“I hoped the whole ‘child soldiers’ thing would be a bigger distraction,” Ahsoka mutters. She glances at Leia and Rex. Both of them are used to being in charge to some degree, giving orders and making contingency plans, but in this... in this, Ahsoka is in charge. They’d decided that at the very start. It didn’t matter that Rex had lived longer and had more experience, or that Leia had held the highest Rebellion rank of the three of them. Ahsoka had been agreed as leader, and they were relying on her.
They’re waiting on her orders. Stiff and unhappy, in Leia’s case, but they trust her.
“Will you be telling Vos?” She asks.
“No,” Tholme says. “Your secrets remain your own unless they endanger us, and I’ve a feeling they won’t be.”
“Don’t be so sure,” Rex jokes, smile not reaching his eyes. “I’ve been working with this family for too long to trust that trouble won’t find them around the next corner.”
“This family?” Tholme repeats.
“Sokari was telling the truth about her master being Leia’s biological father,” Rex says. He shrugs. “I worked with him, with his wife, with both of his kids, with his master and his padawan. All of them, to a one, are trouble magnets.”
“Ah, but that’s not the secret that’s putting us in danger,” Tholme points out. “Simply existence as a Jedi.”
Rex shrugs. “Fair enough. Don’t say I didn’t warn you, though.”
Ahsoka lurches to her feet, turning with a smile and dancing backward into the the stretch of empty cargo hold they used for such things. “A spar, Master Tholme?”
He looks past her, to Quinlan, and raises a brow. “Would you not prefer to spar with someone a little closer to your level first?”
She barks out a laugh. “Master Tholme, I’m afraid I’ve spent more of my life fighting to survive than having normal friendly spars. My style is more lethal than the average, and you’ve already seen what war’s done to my mind. I ask to spar with you because, if I lose control, if I slip in time or react on an instinct that isn’t appropriate, I trust that you’ll be more able to stop me than a senior padawan.”
He smiles. “Yes, I gathered as much. Still, better to ask. Shall we wait for them to finish up?”
Ahsoka shrugs, turns, and yells. “Clear the deck!”
Rex snorts behind her, and lowly mutters, “Sir, yes, sir.”
She smirks at him over her shoulder. “At ease, Captain.”
“That’s ‘Commander’ to you, I got promoted,” he sniffs, chin held high.
Heavy steps herald Fett’s arrival at their little group. “The hells are you doing?”
“I’m going to have a spar with a Jedi Master, and I want you and Vos to not get stabbed.”
“I’m not that easy to injure in an actual fight, let alone by accident,” Fett grouses. He looks up and over at Vos, who is already significantly taller, if a fair shot less built. “This one, on the other hand...”
“Hey!”
Ahsoka laughs and backs into the center of the cargo hold, drawing her sabers. “Don’t worry, Vos, I won’t play dirty. You’ll probably get your master back in one piece.”
He wrinkles his nose at her. “Getting a bit ahead of yourself there, aren’t you? He’s a Jedi Master and former Watchman. You’re... what, eighteen?”
Ahsoka raises a brow and activates her sabers, tapping the blades together and watching as more than one person winces. “Wanna bet on how long I last?”
“No,” he says immediately, stepping back to join Rex on the bench. “You’ve already blindsided me enough. I’m not dumb enough to fall for whatever you’ve got up your sleeve.”
“I don’t have sleeves.”
“Armwarmers-slash-greaves, then.”
“Greaves go on the legs, these are vambraces.”
He throws his hands up in the air. “I’m just going to stop talking now!”
“Good plan,” Leia snarks, and then literally hisses when Rex ruffles her hair.
Tholme lights his saber and sinks into an opening stance.
Ahsoka mirrors him.
---------------------------
She wins, but barely. She's had a few weeks to practice her forms, has sparred hands-only with Rex and Fett, but this is her first real try at using her sabers against a person, instead of a blaster or thin air, since she arrived in the past. She’s only mostly adjusted to her body.
But Tholme is a healer and a watchman, not a duelist. Ahsoka held her own against Ventress, against Grievous, against Maul when she was this age. Still adjusting to her body or not, her lineage is one of battle, and it bled true.
“You’re terrifying,” Quinlan tells her after they’re done, smiling like the sun as he hands her a towel. “Please never turn that on me.”
She laughs at him. “Would you believe that I’m out of practice?”
“Out of practice with what?” he asks, horrified and fascinated. “Fighting Sith Lords?”
“Among other things,” she says, and smirks when he chokes on his drink. “Multiple darkside users who claimed to be Sith, at least. One being a full Lord, one that was disowned by his master, and one that was apprenticed to a Banite apprentice, so she wasn’t technically allowed to be a Darth because of the rule of two.”
Tholme meets her eyes past Quinlan’s shoulder, head tilted and eyes half-shut in consideration. He’s taking her seriously. He knows what she’s not saying.
“How...” Quinlan trails off and shakes his head. “You know what, no. Asking you people questions never ends well.”
“Good plan,” Ahsoka says, clapping a hand down on his shoulder. “Also, you need to spar with Fett more. Your footwork is shit.”
“It is not,” Quinlan gripes. “You’re all just scary good at this stuff.”
“You mean surviving?” Leia pipes up, and smiles innocently when Quinlan turns to pout at her.
“You’re getting bullied by a six-year-old,” Rex informs him.
“Yeah,” Quinlan sighs. “I know.”
Ahsoka laughs, and it’s fine. It’s all fine. For a week, everything is honestly great. She trains, she laughs, she works through the nightmares.
Then fucking Denon happens.
---------------------------
Denon is a city-planet on the intersection of two major hyperlanes. It’s the kind of place where they stop for two things:
Fuel.
Paperwork.
Technically, there’s a whole mess of paperwork they have to fill out to continue along this specific hyperlane, since they aren’t official Republic ships, and don’t have the licenses to just pass along like ships that are pre-registered to the Trade Federation or the like. They could sneak past--literally all of them know smuggler’s routes--but it’s honestly less of a pain to do things legally. They have a Jedi Master. They have cash. Some of that cash wasn’t quite legally acquired, but nobody needs to know that.
It’s supposed to be a pit stop. That’s all.
It’s just a pit stop.
But no, the galaxy isn’t that kind and Ahsoka’s luck is currently being compounded with a Skywalker, two Fetts, and Vos, which means that of course they run into trouble. Of course they do. There was never any other option, was there?
“Motherfucker,” Ahsoka snaps, lifting her head up and slamming her drink on the table.
The glass is empty. That’s good. They’re in a restaurant right now, a little splurging after weeks with only each others’ company, and spilling the sugary child-friendly juice with that move would have drawn way too much attention from the servers.
“Language,” Tholme says, voice idly unconcerned.
“Sir?” Rex asks, kicking Ahsoka under the table. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wr--that jackass,” she hisses, getting to her feet. “Rex, grab a blaster, I’ve got shebs to kick.”
“Okay,” Rex says, grabbing one out of Fett’s holster and scooting out of the booth before anyone can tell him not to. “Whose?”
“I didn’t even know that he was... osik, I don’t have jurisdiction,” she realizes. “I don’t have any record of wrongdoing. I can’t arrest him since we don’t have evidence of criminal wrongdoing...”
“Are you two going to explain what’s going on?” Vos asks. “Or sit down, maybe?”
Ahsoka makes her decision. She eyes the window--the restaurant in question is a little dingy, but it’s also several dozen stories in the air. “Rex, remember the thing we did on Geonosis that you hated?”
He pauses, and then sighs heavily. “Yes, sir. I remember the... yeeting.”
Hah. That slang doesn’t even exist yet.
“Great. With me!”
It’s a good thing the windows are forcefields instead of transparisteel. A bit of a twist to the energy and they’re gone.
She only hears a little screaming before the wind tears all noises away while they plummet.
They land lightly--of course--and Ahsoka wraps them both in a don’t notice me aura. Nobody even notices that they’ve just come from above. It’s great that she can just Do These Things again, and get brushed off as Weird Jedi Shit, instead of worrying about the Empire. She’s missed being able to jump out of windows without fear.
Rex follows her as she starts running through the city. They don’t have comms, and he’s still so small, which means he can’t keep up with her even if she runs at normal speeds without Force enhancement.
“Should you carry me?” he asks, before she can figure out if it’s worth suggesting. She did it a few times before they joined up with Jango.
“It’s not... urgent, I think,” she says. She hesitates to speak, even as she keeps jogging with Rex at her heels. “Honestly, I’m trying to figure out if there’s anything I can ding him for so we can attack him. It’s all well and good that I can beat him right now, but all the crimes I know about haven’t happened yet, so it wouldn’t be legal...”
“Commander?”
“Hm?”
“I have no idea who you’re talking about.”
She scrolls the conversation back mentally, considers, and says, “Oh.”
“Who’s getting steamrolled?”
“Uh, Maul’s here,” Ahsoka admits.
“Ah,” Rex says. He makes a face. “I understand the desire to jump out a window, now. I don’t agree with it, but I understand.”
Ahsoka laughs. “I mean, I just... every time I’ve seen him for almost twenty years, it’s been like... on sight, you know? We’ve never not attacked each other, except when I needed him to cause problems on Mandalore. But I always knew I was in the right, then.”
“So... what do we arrest him for?” Rex prompts.
“Um... carrying a lightsaber without a license?” she hazards. “We’ll need Tholme there. Hopefully I can just shout at him and he’ll attack me, but I think he only went full nutjob after Master Kenobi cut his legs off. He might be too controlled to try to kill me just for yelling at him.”
“...do we have to stalk him?” Rex asks, sounding like he’d most likely sigh if he weren’t mid-run.
She scoops him up and swings him around onto her back before she answers. “I think we have to stalk him, Rex’ika.”
“Don’t call me that.”
---------------------------
Maul is... exceptionally sneaky, actually. Either that, or he hasn’t done anything wrong yet. Ahsoka’s betting on the former, because she’s seen this particular skocha kung take over a planet before anyone realized he was the most dangerous person around.
Or maybe he’s just not committing crimes, and is in fact just here to buy groceries.
He’s examining a papaya.
She fantasizes about jumping across the market and greeting him with a heel to the cheekbone.
“Are you imagining a flying kick, Sir?”
“Yeah...”
“He’s examining a papaya, Sir.”
“I know...”
“Does he know we’re here?”
“I don’t know. Maybe? Do you think I should go hit him?”
“No.”
“Should I hit on him?”
“No, Sir. I would not advise that.”
“He’s looking at the neloms.”
“I can see that.”
“Why does he have to be so bo--did he just fucking bite a nelom?”
“It appears so, Sir.”
“Like... like rind and all. Just bit the little fucker.”
“Seems it.”
A scuff of metal. “What the fuck are you two doing?”
Ahsoka tips her head around to peer through the grate. “We’re spying, Fett, what does it look like we’re doing?”
Rex cranes his head. “We’re hanging upside-down from a fire escape to get a look at a suspected Sith Apprentice that is currently shopping for various fruits, Mand’alor.”
Ahsoka waves. “Hi, Master Tholme.”
“Sokari,” the master greets. “This seems a very conspicuous way to spy.”
She shrugs as well as she can from this angle. “Yes, but you see, this way’s more fun.”
“Is it now.”
Rex shifted. “He’s on the move!”
“To kill someone?!”
“No, to the deli meats.”
“Kriff.”
---------------------------
Apparently, Tholme and Fett had told Quinlan to take care of Leia, as Leia had wanted to finish her juice and refused to get involved in the Torrents’ nonsense. According to her, if they couldn’t be bothered to explain the nonsense, they didn’t need her.
This was true and accurate.
Quinlan shows up while they’re still stalking Maul, having moved to a low rooftop for a decent vantage point with less likelihood of being spotted. He’s giving Leia an eopie-back ride, and the pout on her face at needing it is adorable. She pouts harder when she sees them.
“Are you even trying to hide?” Leia scoffs.
“Not really,” Ahsoka admits. She’s got Fett’s binoculars out. “I’m not sure he’s caught wind of the fact that we’re here yet.”
“Or he has and he’s just biding his time to escape while we’re distracted,” Tholme points out.
“Meh,” Ahsoka says, avidly devouring the visual that is a teenage Maul glaring at leafy vegetables. “I just want him to do something so I have an excuse to beat his ass.”
“Do I get to know who?” Quinlan asks, setting Leia down on the roof. “Or are we going to keep being completely unwilling to share information?”
“Baby Sith Lord,” Ahsoka says. “He’s fifteen. A child.”
“A baby,” Rex agrees.
“You’re... that’s... ugh,” Quinlan groans as loudly and as dramatically as he dares, flopping down to the rooftop. “Master Tholme, please tell me this isn’t a real Sith.”
“He’s Dark,” Tholme confirms. “Sith is... up for debate until we have evidence.”
“He’s a bitch is what he is,” Ahsoka mutters. She observes the teenager in question stop to poke at some pink tomatoes. “E chu ta, break the law, already!”
“Does he have a lightsaber?” Quinlan asks. “If he has a lightsaber and no Jedi ID or specialty license, we can probably arrest him.”
“Auntie Soka doesn’t have a license or ID,” Leia points out.
“She’s got a Jedi escort,” Tholme says. “And if our supposed Sith is polite and plays nice, we can probably escort him to the Temple as well.”
Rex snorts derisively.
“Do you know why he’s on Denon?” Fett asks.
“No clue,” Ahsoka admits. “Evil reasons, probably.”
“You’re useless,” Leia tells her.
“Thanks, princess, how’s that attempt to open the jam jar by yourself coming?”
Leia says something very inappropriate for a princess, for a child, and for a lady. It’s fairly appropriate for a soldier, which is admittedly what she’s been for a few years now. Ahsoka sticks her tongue out at the girl like the mature operative she is.
“I wish we could still get him to lose his osik by just showing up and insulting him,” Rex mutters, low enough that Quinlan probably can’t hear.
“I wanna punch him in the face,” Ahsoka confesses. “I want him to try to punch me in the face, and fail.”
“Don’t bully the baby Sith,” Rex admonishes.
“He’s a Sith.”
“He’s fifteen, it’s tacky.”
“But it’s Maul.”
“I know, but you’re tw--significantly older than him.”
“But... but it’s the motherfucker himself.”
“...you can bully him a little, but only because he’s a Sith.”
Fett steals the binoculars. “You can borrow them again when you stop acting like children.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” Rex says, dry as Ryloth. “I’m ten.”
“Pretty tall for your age,” Ahsoka mutters, and then giggles.
“Don’t steal my jokes,” Rex says. He elbows her, hard.
“You know,” Quinlan says, slow and tired. “Master Tholme and I are trained investigators.”
Ahsoka and Rex look at each other, and then up at him.
“Okay?”
“...do you want me to find actual evidence of this guy doing something criminal?”
“Oh, yes please.”
---------------------------
Quinlan, as it turns out, is not overselling his skills. He does catch Maul doing something illegal later that day. It’s a little more ‘stealing corporate secrets in the dead of night’ and less ‘torturing people for kicks,’ but it’s still enough to legally arrest him. Quinlan attempts to do so.
Quinlan does not succeed, and is forced to jump out a window to avoid getting cut in half. Maul follows, steals a passing speeder by throwing out the driver, and takes off. Someone--looks like Tholme--drops back to save the driver, but the rest of them give chase. Ahsoka gleefully takes point on that, of course. She’s the best pilot.
(Rex looks bored, but someone is likely to puke by the end of the night. She hopes it’s not Leia, who insisted on coming for some fucking reason.)
“How the kriff is a teenager that good?!” Quinlan yells, clinging to the edge of the speeder to avoid getting tipped out as Ahsoka swerves around a corner with a wild laugh.
“He’s a Sith!” Leia shouts over the wind. “What do you think?”
Quinlan is not impressed by the claim of Sith.
Ahsoka screeches as she drifts across four lanes of traffic and into an alleyway to pursue Maul. He’s pretty good at dodging cross-building walkways, but she’s better. She bares her teeth, hissing, and tries to pick a plan.
“Vos, how’s your aim with Force throws?” She calls to the backseat.
“Uh, decent?”
“Great! Fett’s the projectile!”
Vos takes a second longer to process that than Jango does.
“I’m wh--”
He cuts off, screaming, and is flung forward by Quinlan to crash headfirst into a teenage Sith.
“Take the wheel!” Ahsoka commands, not waiting to see who follows the order, because Fett and Maul are both getting to their feet, the other speeder is about to crash, and she’s not sure who’s going to win that fight.
She jumps from the speeder they’ve been violently dragging around Denon, and lands feet-first on Maul’s... shoulder.
Hm.
That definitely dislocated something.
“You should wear armor!” she chirps at him, drawing both sabers and grinning as he whirls to face her, eyes wide with hate.
He’s utterly silent.
That’s disturbing. Expected, but disturbing.
“Did you just throw me?” Fett demands, higher pitched than she’d normally expect.
“No, Vos threw you.”
“Because you told him to!”
“Yeah, it’s a good strategy!”
“It is not!”
“Why not? Throwing people was standard practice in the GAR.”
She can’t see his face, but she’s pretty sure he’s about ready to strangle her.
Ahsoka cannot, at that point, continue snarking with the father of her best friend, because there’s a red lightsaber coming for her throat, and she should probably worry about that. Maul’s very good at killing people and she’d like to avoid becoming part of that statistic.
As she is quickly reminded, he is... fifteen. And shorter than she’s used to. And already injured.
It’s really, really easy to take him out, actually.
At some point, the other speeder was safely recovered before it caused property damage, and their own is landing a few meters away with Vos and the kids.
“You have Force-negating cuffs, right?” Ahsoka asks.
“No, Master Tholme has them.”
“Oh,” she says, and grimaces. “I guess I’ll just... keep sitting on him then.”
Maul snarls, and she raps him on the skull. “Stop that, it’s uncivilized.”
Rex snorts.
Jango makes a noise that is incredibly frustrated with the lot of them, and turns on Rex. “Was she telling the truth?”
“About?”
“Throwing people being standard practice for the GAR.”
Rex’s face goes pained. “It was in the five-oh-first. And a few others.”
“What’s the GAR?” Quinlan asks.
“None of your damn business,” Fett snaps.
Quinlan throws his hands up in the air again. “Come on! I just proved I know what I’m doing!”
“And their tragic backstory is none of your business, prudii!”
Quinlan blinks at him, and then glances at Ahsoka. “Um.”
“He called you a shadow since your training, um, seems to be pointing in that direction,” she says as carefully as she can. “We were theorizing.”
“Wh... you actually paid attention?” Quinlan asks, looking horribly confused. “I thought I was just annoying you.”
Ahsoka laughs at him. “Oh, Vos... I’ve been running black ops for... much longer than most would guess. Trust me, I know another spy when I see them.”
She smiles as kindly as she can, because she hadn’t actually meant to make him feel left out or unwanted or... well, she’d been pretty patronizing, especially for someone seemingly younger than him. The smile does not work. Quinlan just looks kind of horrified about how young she just implied she started spy work.
Granted, she’d been sixteen for Zygerria...
Deciding to ignore him for a bit, she shifts on Maul’s back and pats him on the cheek. “Don’t worry, Baby Sith. We’re going to get you lots of nice therapy. Mind healers, no Sith tortures, all that fun stuff. Maybe some plushies.”
“You’re also getting therapy, right?” Quinlan asks. “Please say you are. I’m required for the specifics of my training and if anything you’ve said is true, I feel like you really need it and I’m scared of what’ll happen if you don’t.”
Ahsoka laughs, knowing exactly how empty it sounds. “Oh hell, if I didn’t get therapy, I imagine Kix would rise from the grave to force me into it.”
The name means nothing to anyone except Rex, and... ah, yeah, she told Fett about Kix a few weeks ago.
“No more throwing me without warning,” Fett grumbles, dropping to sit on the ground next to her. “Especially not at baby Sith Lords.”
“I am not a child!” Maul spits.
“He speaks!” Ahsoka cheers. “Aw, I knew you could do it.”
“’Soka, I told you not to bully him,” Rex complains. “It’s tacky. You’re being tacky.”
“I’m allowed to be tacky,” Ahsoka declares. “I’ve died twice, that’s, like, permission from the universe.”
“You’ve died twice?” Quinlan asks, back in ‘fascinated horror’ territory. “Wait, no, I shouldn’t ask--”
“Too late! The first time was on a planet that doesn’t exist and my Master lost his mind, killed a god, and used the good favor of another god to have me brought back to life at her expense. Not in that order.”
“I--what? No, that’s--what?”
Ahsoka smiles brightly. “You asked.”
Tholme finally shows up with the cuffs.
---------------------------
“You should eat something.”
He glares at her.
“Baby Sith Lords need to eat.”
He keeps glaring at her.
“Maul, you’ll never get big and strong and ready to kill if you don’t eat your vegetables.”
He bares his teeth.
“No, I don’t eat my veggies, but I’m a Togruta, so if I eat too many vegetables I throw up.”
Rex kicks her thigh, right on the faulds. “What did I say about bullying the Sith Lord?”
“Not to.”
“And what are you doing?”
“Making him eat his vegetables.”
“Soka.”
“Rex’ika.”
He kicks at her again. “Get up, we’re swapping out the watch.”
“But I wanted to hang out with my favorite little criminal mastermind.”
Rex drops to the floor and presses his forehead to her shoulder. “How the hell is being around this guy the first thing to make you cheer up in weeks?”
“I’m allowed to be mean to him.”
“He’s going to bite you.”
“I’ll bite back.”
Rex jabs a finger into her ribs, and she squeaks. “Go get something to eat, Commander.”
“Fine,” she huffs, rolling to her feet and moseying along to the galley. She walks in on Tholme and Fett having an argument about the ways in which Jedi and Mandalorians differ. Quinlan’s on the side, watching with wide eyes, and little Leia’s drinking a juice box at his side, tucked up under his arm and occasionally saying things to fan the flames. Ahsoka assumes she’s enjoying herself.
She opens the cooling unit, looks over the contents, and pulls out a raw leg of eopie mutton. She leans against the counter, bites into the chilled-but-not-frozen meat, and uses the back of one hand to wipe the blood off her chin. The ‘real adults’ don’t notice.
“I’m like ninety percent sure you’re doing this to mess with me but also...” Quinlan trails off, staring at her with horror. “Why?”
“A girl’s gotta eat.”
“Yeah, but all the obligate carnivores I know are like... generally holding to basic rules of courtesy when it comes to not grossing people out,” Quinlan says. “Like, I don’t chew with my mouth open. You don’t... eat in the most intimidating--did you just crack the bone with your teeth?!”
Ahsoka smirks at him, using her free hand to take away the shard of bone so she can suck out the marrow without eating the bones themselves. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but this isn’t polite society. We’re in a galley on a bounty hunter’s ship, and I’ve been living on the run or in an army for most of my life. Table manners are optional.”
“No, they’re not,” Leia orders. “Fett, it’s your ship, tell her to--”
“--and another thing!” Fett snaps at Tholme, clearly paying less than no attention to the food argument.
Ahsoka keeps on eating, trying to catch wind of where the discussion’s at. Mostly, it seems to be at ‘talking past each other.’ Neither of them seems to have fully grasped more than the absolute most basic parts of the other culture, and that’s only enough to insult each other, not actually have a constructive conversation. She’d have expected more out of Tholme, at least. He’s not exactly young.
“Hey, quick question,” she says, in a moment where both of them have paused for breath and the opportunity to seethe. “Fett, when’s the last time you worked with a Jedi, or any member of a Force-based religion, before I popped into your life?”
His nose scrunches up as he makes a face.
“And Tholme, when’s the last time you worked with anyone from the Mandalorian system?”
Tholme’s reaction isn’t any more gracious than Fett’s.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” she says. “Vos, were either of them actually interested in that conversation, or just looking for an excuse to yell?”
“Now listen here, jetiika--”
“Fett,” she snaps. “I am not a child.”
“And neither am I,” he growls right back. “This is my ship, and I damn well don’t need you treating me like a misbehaving youngling. You’ve got a problem, you bring it to my face, not get all smug about people’s tempers blowing over.”
Well, then.
She smiles thinly. “Of course.”
He stands with his arms crossed, in full armor save for the helmet. She puts aside the eopie meat and wipes her hands, smiling until she can put her hands on her hips and let it drop to a challenge.
“You know, I’m just--I’m just gonna go,” Quinlan mutters, pulling Leia out with him, the girl hanging from under one of his arms. “This, uh, this looks like a problem for... you folks. Um. Yeah.”
He sidles out.
Tholme doesn’t.
Fett rubs at the bridge of his nose, and then gestures at the table. “Sit.”
“I’d prefer not to.”
He drops his hand and glares at her. “We have another week on this ship together. We are going to have this conversation. Sit.”
She sits, right on the warm spot left behind by Quinlan and Leia. She crosses her arms, lifts a brow, and waits.
Fett takes the seat across from her. Tholme leans against the counter.
“We all know you’re older than you look,” Fett says. “I heard Tholme mention it, I know that much has been shared. You’re acting like an actual teenager, and I’ve... I’ve put up with a lot. I am trying to keep things civil, particularly with you. I’ve tried to be friendly. You’ve been fucked up since we met, fine, everyone’s got trauma. The thing where you’ve started talking shit to our faces for what seems like your own amusement? That has to stop. You’re older than me, Torrent. Fucking act like it.”
She blinks at him, slow and not exactly happy, and turns to Tholme.
The man shrugs. “I was planning to put up with it until we arrived to the temple and handed you over to some mind healers. Fett doesn’t have that kind of time.”
There’s a curdle in her stomach, defensive and angry and guilty.
“You’ve been... a bitch,” Fett finally says. “You know that. I’m not going to mince words. You’ve been holier-than-thou and rude and condescending, and aiming that at Antilles is one thing, when you’ve apparently known her since she was a toddler and taught her things. Aiming at the rest of us isn’t going to fly. We’re all adults trying to share a space. Stop acting like... just like you have been.”
There is no defense to be made that they aren’t both already aware of.
She closes her eyes and tries to strangle the burst of irrational rage.
Their accusations aren’t unfounded.
They deserve an apology.
She is in the wrong.
She’s felt freer than she had in years, and in that freedom allowed herself too much rein, let herself lace her words with barbed wires and poison instead of sparks and spices, comments that were cruel instead of just joking. Too familiar. Too comfortable.
“My behavior’s been inappropriate,” she finally says, the words clumsy and too big in her mouth. “You’re right about that. I’m sorry, and I’ll endeavor to keep a tighter rein on my less pleasant behaviors in the future.”
At least she only lashes out with words. It could be worse.
She opens her eyes, fixes her gaze on the wall behind Fett, wrestles her expression into stiff neutrality. “Am I dismissed?”
“...uh, no, not after that,” Fett says, sounding just a little horrified. “What the hell was that?”
Tholme hisses out a breath. “Let her go.”
“No, this needs to be discussed, that’s not a healthy rea--”
“Fett, let her go,” Tholme insists, low and heavy.
Fett looks between the two for a moment, seems to come to a realization he doesn’t like, and then gestures almost violently towards the door. “Fine. Go.”
She walks out, doesn’t sprint. She’s stiff. She’s controlled. She’s the one that fucked up, so it’s fine if she doesn’t feel great right now. Getting called out on one’s own failings as a person isn’t something to get upset about if the failings are real. The feelings are real and normal, but this was her fault, and so it’s up to her to fix it, and she can’t let them know it hurt her, because this was her mistake.
She goes to the cargo hold.
---------------------------
Ahsoka works out her frustrations on Fett’s punching bag. She does not augment herself with the Force, just uses raw strength and technique, ignoring the tears that press at her eyes.
She’s fine.
It’s not weird. It’s not odd. It’s not strange to not notice she’s been kind of a bitch since her mood came up with the whole Depa thing, and then Maul. She’s been mean, mostly to Vos and Fett, and nobody’s confronted her about it until now. They let her have room for her trauma, and she hadn’t reined it in. She’s just gotten worse.
‘Snippy’ she’d always been, but age apparently hadn’t fucking tempered it.
“Um.”
She catches the punching bag, breathing heavily and covered in sweat. She hasn’t worked out all the twitchy, nervous energy yet.
“Vos,” she greets, once she’s caught herself enough that her voice won’t waver. He’s on the other side of the bag, but she knows his voice. “Do you need something?”
“You’re kind of... projecting,” he tells her, drifting to where she can actually see him. “Not self-loathing, but, um, recrimination? You just don’t feel very good and I was hoping to help”
Why in all the Sith hells does he have to be nice.
“I got called out on my behavior and wasn’t ready to face the fact that I’d kriffed up,” she tells him. “I’ll be fine. And I’m... sorry. I haven’t been fair to you and was using you as an easy target for some of my ruder comments.”
“I mean, I kind of figured,” he admits, coming closer. “I’ve been tutored by Shadows before, and a lot of them act like you. I just assumed it was more of that.”
“I still shouldn’t have let myself run loose like that,” she says. “I’m... it wasn’t appropriate. I shouldn’t have let it happen.”
He shrugs, not meeting her eyes. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” she says. “Not with... not with you. Or anyone other than Rex and a mind healer, really. Most of it is...”
She trails off, distantly noticing that her eyes are tearing up enough to blur her vision, and her nails are digging into the bag in a way Fett won’t appreciate.
There’s so much that beat her down, never quite breaking her, that she doesn’t even know what made her act the way she does.
“Want to spar?”
She looks over at him, wonders what he sees that makes him want to fight her when she’s visibly unstable.
He smiles, kind and easy, and it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. It’s genuine in intent, if not in energy. He wants to help. “You all keep saying I could work on my hand-to-hand. Just take off the armor so I don’t break a finger, maybe.”
“You’re serious.”
“No, I’m Quinlan.”
She’s going to wipe the floor with this boy. “You sure you wanna fight me?”
“You won’t be able to meditate until you do,” he says. He’s right, damn him. “The other option is that I go get your... vod, I think? I go get Rex and you two can talk it out since you trust him with more. I don’t want to do that, though, he’s still a kid.”
She eyes him, lips pressed together and mind awhirl with emotions and thoughts she’d tried to beat out of her head and into the bag. “Ever fought someone without the Force?”
“...yes?”
“Was it cuffs?”
“Oh, you meant me not having the Force,” he realizes. “Er, no. Is... is that something you’ve done a lot?”
She smiles at him. “You’re planning on Shadow work. That means getting captured and stripped of everything you are at some point, Force included. Unfortunately, the cuffs are in use on a very annoying Dathomirian right now, so we’ll have to make do with you shielding like your mind’s a Kessel Spice Mine.”
“...do I want to know how often you’ve been captured?”
“No, you don’t.”
When he comes at her, it’s easy to dodge. It’s easy to tap him on target points, little pokes that show she could take him out, but isn’t going to until he’s learned something. He stays grinning throughout, letting her take the lead, and he treats her like... like a knight. Like a teacher. He’s stepped back and gone from trying to impress her as a fellow padawan, to proving himself to a full knight.
She’s not sure when that change happened, or why or how, but it makes things much smoother. She wants to think that it would have even if she hadn’t gotten a wakeup call from Fett.
So she treats him the way she treated Ezra, for the year she’d spent traveling with Kanan. She treats him as a student that’s willing to learn, good but not yet great, competent but not yet ready to survive. She draws him into the kind of chest-heaving exhaustion that tells a fighter just how much energy they waste.
(Ahsoka may have had her own style, but her grandmaster had been the pinnacle of a Soresu user. She’d spent years on the frontlines of a war. She knew the worth of conserving energy, and she’d teach it to any who stepped in to challenge her.)
“Who taught you to fight like this?” He asks, when they’ve taken a handful of moments to circle each other. His steps are heavy, sure, planted. Her own are light and ready.
“Soldiers,” she says. It’s true enough.
“Not your Master?” he asks, just as he tries to kick for her upper arm. It’s a safe question. For anyone else, it would be a safe question.
But for Ahsoka, it’s another chink in the armor, after a maelstrom of emotion, a storm of self-loathing, a dervish of instability.
She doesn’t break right away.
She spirals. She fights Quinlan, but doesn’t quite see him. Her strikes get sloppy, her feet stumble. She can’t make herself meet Quinlan’s eyes, not when the scrape of his heel against the metal sounds like the rasp of a breathing machine. Her shields get fuzzy, she knows, and she leaks what she feels into the air, making it sour and thick. She doesn’t notice, because all she can see, all she can--all she can hear and feel and--
She drops to her knees and grabs at her head, trying to stop it.
“Sokari?”
She breathes. In and out, harsh and jagged but natural in a way that the damned respirator wasn’t.
Her master her teacher her brother the traitor the hound the executioner
Her face is hot. Something prickles. It might be tears.
She tries to say something, tries to say a name or a request, tries to make anything come out of her mouth that isn’t the broken wail of a woman who hasn’t let herself think about how she died.
She feels herself pulled into someone’s arms, and she can’t quite tell who, but they’re bigger than she is, and feel warm and worried. They care. They don’t understand, they’re scared, but they care.
Her hands shake, clutched to her chest and she can’t breathe she can’t make herself take in enough air to do a Force-damned thing the empire is going to feel her her shields are down and broken and her emotions are spilling and the empire is going to find HER ANAKIN IS GOING TO FIND HER AND--
“COMMANDER!”
Rex.
Rex is here.
Her breath is coming so fast that she’s hiccupping more than she’s actually inhaling. She feels small hands in gloves on either side of her face, and then her forehead presses to something warm.
Rex. A Keldabe kiss. Her brother, her partner, her other half. He’s here. He’s calm. If he’s calm, then things are fine.
“What happened?” Light voice, high voice, small and distant. Leia. Little Leia little princess Leia she’s in danger she’s in trouble Anakin will--
“Commander.”
No. Here and now. She needs to focus on here and now. Her throat feels cold. She breathes too fast, still. She can’t stop it.
“I don’t know.” That’s Vos. He was... they were doing something. He was here. Talking to her. “We were sparring, and she just--”
Right, sparring.
“I don’t know if I said something?” He offers, voice pitching up, unsure and worried. Is he the one holding her? He’s the one holding her. That’s embarrassing.
“Commander?” Rex prompts. “Commander, can you open your eyes?”
She tries. She can’t. She shakes her head.
“Soka?” he asks, voice quiet. “Where are you?”
“F-F-Fett,” she manages. It’s enough.
“And where were you?”
His voice is so soft. So worried. She held him the same way after Mandalore, after Order 66, after all his brothers, all her friends...
“Soka.”
Her mind is spinning, and suddenly all she can hear is Anakin Skywalker is dead. I destroyed him.
Her breath hitches, and she wails.
“Commander,” Rex tries again, but her head is a vortex of Then you will die and Perhaps this child and not the Jedi way.
Our long awaited meeting.
I destroyed him.
Then you will die.
She can’t breathe she can’t breathe she can only see that yellow eye that’s too familiar but belongs to a stranger can only hear a voice that shouldn’t exist can only mourn and break and--
“Soka?”
“Malachor,” she manages. “I--h-he--I died.”
“What did you say?” someone asks. A vod. It’s the right voice, almost, rough and business-like, not accusing anyone yet, and... and... no. No. Not one of her boys. It’s Fett.
“Um, right at the end? I asked her who taught her to fight like this,” Quinlan says, nervous. “And she said it was soldiers. And I joked, I asked that it wasn’t her Master, and she didn’t answer that. A couple minutes later, she just started...”
“Oh, Soka,” Rex whispers, pulling her closer. “Commander, just breathe with me.”
“H-h-he, he just--R-Rex, he j-just--and I c-c-couldn’t--”
“I know,” her captain whispers. “I know, just breathe with me.”
“He k-k-k-killed me,” she sobs, falling out of the Keldabe and into too-small arms. “I l-loved--he was my broth-ther and--and he just--he killed me, he didn��t even stop.”
“I know,” Rex whispers. “Soka, I know.”
Of course he does.
---------------------------
“It was just bad timing,” Rex says, once they’re in the room she’s been sharing with her little family, curled up under a blanket and watching the floor like it has all the secrets to how she lost her world three times over.
“Is there anything we need to keep in mind?” Fett asks, gruff and uncomfortable. She wonders if he’s angry that she took his necessary confrontation and turned it into this mess.
“Don’t bring up her Jedi Master,” Rex says, and pulls her in when she shivers. Her eyes squeeze shut before she can stop them, tears beading up again. “Just... don’t. It’s too soon.”
“He’s--”
“He Fell,” Ahsoka interrupts. “I thought he died, but he became a Sith. And fifteen years later, we ran into each other, and I refused to join him in the Dark, so he tried to kill me.”
Fett swears, low and muffled. She thinks he has a hand over his mouth.
Quin and Leia aren’t there. She thinks they’re keeping an eye on their Baby Sith prisoner. That’s good.
“Soka,” Rex whispers, and she buries her face in his shoulder. She’s too old to be this kind of mess. She’s thirty-two. She’s Fulcrum. She’s...
She’s in need of a lot of therapy.
“We can avoid the subject unless you bring it up,” Tholme promises. “Definitely until the Temple. Is there anything else we shouldn’t talk about?”
Ahsoka can practically feel Rex’s deadpan look. “Sir, we’re a trio of child soldiers ripped from everything we know. Every other sentence is a risk. We’re just... working our way through.”
There’s a knock at the door. Oh. Quin and Leia.
“Just figured we’d drop this off before we went down to visit Mr. Grumpy-Face,” Quinlan whispers. He still thinks Leia’s a child. He’s trying to make things less terrible for her. That’s nice. “We decided he’ll be less angry if he tries Hoth chocolate, and made some for everyone.”
They definitely made it for Ahsoka herself, and Maul was an afterthought. Still. It’s sweet.
“Commander?” Rex prompts, jostling her a little to try and get her to sit up.
“Gimme a sec,” she manages. It takes longer than it should to push herself away from him, to accept the mug that Leia gives her, too-serious worry in the furrow of her brow and the twist of her soul.
She doesn’t look six. She doesn’t even look twenty-two. This girl was always too old for her skin, forced to grow up in the hostile fear of the Empire.
“Thank you, Princess.”
She sips.
She can barely taste it beyond the ashes she imagines coating her tongue.
I destroyed him, her memory echoes. His slightest hesitation before he made the final move, it haunts her. She almost reached him. If only she’d tried harder, yelled louder, been better...
She shivers.
“Do you need help falling asleep?” Tholme asks. “I’m a regular healer, not a mind healer, but...”
She probably should.
She takes another sip of her drink, willing herself to taste it. It’s good. She likes it. She knows she does.
“Can you make it dreamless?” she whispers.
“It doesn’t always work, but I can try,” he tells her.
She nods. “When I finish the chocolate.”
“Of course.”
---------------------------
Everyone’s careful around her for days. The whole decision to be nicer doesn’t mean anything when she’s walking about in a daze of too few emotions, drained of everything she could feel in favor of a grey cloud of fluff in everything she does.
She does forms. Single saber and Jar’kai. Ataru and Djem so and Soresu. Reverse grip, regular grip, partial reverse on either side.
Again. Again. Again.
She loses herself in the motions, not meditating so much as just empty.
Rex worries. Fett worries. Vos worries.
Leia and Tholme keep their shields locked up tight, and she doesn’t know how they feel. She thinks Leia might be judging her. She think Tholme might be pitying.
Maul simply hates. It’s an old and familiar sensation to walk into, and she takes unthinking comfort in his rage. She’s silent instead of snippy, when she plays the role of guard, and they stare at each other in silence. His eyes burn, and she wonders how much he’s heard of her nightmares.
“You need to talk,” Rex tells her, when he finds her with a cold cup of caff, eyes fixed somewhere beyond it all. She lifts her head. “Soka.”
She just stares at him.
He sighs and pulls her into a hug. “Commander, please.”
She can’t.
Ahsoka stares at the wall behind him, resting her chin on his head. Her neck itches under the lek at the back of her head, a little tingle of a feeling that she can’t bring herself to do anything about. The pale light of the galley is sharp against the chipped paint of the metal that surrounds them. It hurts her eyes to look, but it’s not the deep and dark lit only by red--
Then you will die, her memory growls.
She flinches.
“Breathe,” Rex tells her, too-small hands clinging at her back. “Just breathe, ‘Soka.”
She curls in tighter and tries to just breathe.
---------------------------
“Tell me something good.”
Ahsoka blinks. She looks at Leia. She doesn’t have the energy to parse that.
Leia chances a look at Rex, who isn’t leaving Ahsoka’s side any more than he has to, and Fett on the other side. Tholme’s asleep and Quin’s on Baby Sith duty. It’s just people who know, right now.
The little girl across the table, the child senator, the spy, purses her lips and huffs in irritation. “You knew my biological father before he became one of the worst people in the galaxy. Both of you did. Tell me something good about him.”
Good things.
About Anakin.
“You fought a war as a Jedi,” Leia prompts. “Surely you must have done some good things with him, or at least thought you were.”
Did they?
Every mission ended in tragedy or was just a ploy of Palpatine’s. Every saved life was just...
Wait.
“He built Threepio,” she finally says. “Your father wi--I mean, Bail wiped Threepio’s memory after the Empire rose, for your safety, but Anakin was the one who built him.”
Leia sits up, eyes brighter. “I didn’t know that. I... was Artoo involved? Did he build R2D2, or...”
“No,” Rex says, “But Artoo was his favorite astromech, and they always pushed each other into stupid stunts. We risked a hell of a lot to save that droid, more than once, and I didn’t find out until you started working with the Rebellion full-time, but Artoo and Threepio were the witnesses for your bio-parents’ wedding.”
Leia gapes at him. So does Ahsoka. (Fett doesn’t know enough to care.)
Rex grins, and if it looks a little forced, that’s fine. “He had a holo recording. I was one of the few people left that knew about the marriage that might have wanted to see, so Artoo offered. It was... sweet.”
He waits, probably for Ahsoka to add something herself, but she has nothing.
“I think that’s when they swapped droids, since Threepio was more useful to a politician and Artoo did his best work when we set him loose on the enemy.”
“He never changed,” Leia muses. “Did he always swear that much?”
“Yes,” Ahsoka answers, as Rex laughs. “Always. All the binary I learned started with the best swears.”
She tries to think of another good memory, something else that Leia might appreciate. Her mind ticks back to saving Stinky, which is just a terrible option, because that mission started with Hutts and ended with the Battle of Teth. That massive loss of life, all for the son of the creature that had put Leia in chains.
She wonders if she has anything in her memory that doesn’t end in blood and graves.
“Soka.” Rex.
“Hm?”
“Remember that time Fives and Echo got lost in the undercity their first time on leave, and we had to get the General to help us find them?”
She does.
He’s right, that’s a good story.
“Okay, so what you have to understand,” Ahsoka says, already digging the faint details out and dusting them off, “is that these boys were ARC troopers, top-notch, terrifyingly competent once they got through specialty training, and loyal as hell. Echo had memorized the reg manuals front to back, and Fives was... well, Fives ended up being the only person to figure out the chips before they went into action. Point is, the Domino twins were good... eventually. Just like everyone else, though, they started out shiny.”
---------------------------
“Tholme’s hiding something.”
Ahsoka wonders if Leia will just leave if she ignores her enough. Probably not. This was the girl that got kicked out of boarding school for leading a sit-in at age seven. She’s got patience.
“His job requires him to hide a lot of things,” Ahsoka says instead. “Not as many as Vos will have to, eventually, but a lot.”
“He’s hiding something from us,” Leia insists, visibly frustrated that Ahsoka isn’t as upset about this as she is. “Something important.”
The way she says ‘important’ is clumsy and impacted by the missing baby tooth. She can’t say the r. It comes out as ‘im-poh-ten,’ which is adorable, and if Ahsoka comments on it, she’s probably going to get punched by a six-year-old.
“The Force doesn’t care,” Ahsoka says. “I trust his intentions, if not him as a person.”
“If you don’t trust him, then why trust his intentions?”
“Leia, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I trust one and a half people in the galaxy,” Ahsoka points out. “Me not trusting a person isn’t a sign of anything except my paranoia. The only person I trust fully and without reservation is Rex. Even you, I only mostly trust, because my brain starts screaming if I think too hard. That’s why you’re the half.”
“Okay, whatever, paranoia aside,” Leia barrels on, “He should tell us. Whatever it is that he’s hiding, we deserve to know. We’re not children that he can just hide things from for our own good.”
Ahsoka presses her lips together. “Leia. Princess. I know you’re used to holding all the cards--”
“This isn’t about me being a control freak!”
“It is, though,” Ahsoka soothes, and smiles. “Your mother--the bio one--was the same way. You spent years as one of the leaders of the Rebellion, so obviously you’re used to having all the information, and people reporting to you... but Tholme is a Jedi Master. He reports to the Council and the Republic. Do you know how many people I kept secrets from while I was a padawan? We’re an unknown, Leia. They have no proof that we’re on their side, especially since we’re traveling with Fett.”
Leia crosses her arms and glares as hard as she can.
“I’m not going to bother him,” Ahsoka says. “I’ve already had, like, five unrelated mental breakdowns. I’m putting this on hold until we get to the Temple and I can trust that there’s a healer on hand to sedate me or something.”
“You... want to be sedated?”
“Leia, this... really should be obvious, but a Force-Sensitive losing their osik the way I have been isn’t actually safe. I know I broke a weapons rack last week.” Ahsoka gestures vaguely. “If the Jedi Master isn’t telling me something for reasons that might relate to my clear and obvious mental instability, I’m going to assume he’s got a point.”
“So he should tell me or Rex.”
“We’ll be on Coruscant in four days,” Ahsoka soothes. “Just... let it be. They won’t hurt us.”
“You don’t know that.”
Ahsoka shrugs. “I don’t have to. The Force leads me in all things, including this.”
Leia isn’t impressed by that, but Leia isn’t impressed by much in the first place.
She strides off in a fit that is, perhaps, more influenced by her six-year-old emotional control than she’d like to admit. Ahsoka lets her. It’s not worth the argument.
It’s only a few minutes later that Fett strides in, takes the seat Leia was just in, and asks, “What would it take for you to teach me how to use a jetii’kad?”
She blinks at him. “You want to learn how to use a lightsaber?”
“Yes.”
“...why?”
“Viszla.”
“I see.”
She does.
Ahsoka taps her fingers against the table, eyeing him with the kind of interest she copied from Master Kenobi, years ago. Fett doesn’t fidget, but she thinks he might want to. He just looks back, waiting for her judgement.
“You’ll need to justify it,” she finally says. “It’s a significant difference from what you actually did, so I need to know your reasoning for doing it, and your plans for once it’s done.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s step one,” she corrects. She tilts her head, considering. “My standards for you aren’t built in a vacuum, and you know that. Explain to me what you plan to do and how you plan to do it, and if I approve...”
“You’ll help me achieve it.”
“Maybe,” she allows. “A lot of that depends on Rex.”
“I expected as much,” Fett says. “He is... an admittedly large part of the reason.”
“He would be,” she says. She gives the silence a few more seconds to sit awkwardly between them, and then stands up. “I’d guess you’ve been brainstorming already. Do you have it written down or is it mostly just in your head so far?”
“I’m still... debating options, so to speak.”
She grins, and the shape of the predator’s smile, the baring of teeth... that almost makes him step back. She can see it in the twitch of his muscles. Smart man.
“Follow me,” she says, and doesn’t wait for him to stand. She strides out with tooka-light steps, hears the heavy beskar tread behind her, and goes to the cargo hold. Fett’s confusion grows tangibly behind her, especially when she tosses him a wooden quarterstaff. She picks up the other and spins it in one hand.
“You’re going to fight me,” she tells him, stretching and letting the staff help with the process. “And while we fight, you’re going to tell me what your plans for Mandalore are.”
He mimics her, but there’s a frown on his face. “And why staffs?”
“You and I, we’ve only sparred bare-handed,” she says. “I need a feel for how you fight with a weapon anyway. These are a good start.”
“Not the beskad?”
She grins, and the twitch is back. “No. That can wait. We start with the staffs.”
He takes a stance, and she mirrors him. She lets him strike first with a weapon, but she’s the one that asks all the questions.
(He is the only one on the ship that can fight her one-on-one right now, and he can win. Still, she makes him work for every inch, and what she doesn’t win in bruises, she wins in words.)
(Fett might yet be a proper Mand’alor, but Ahsoka learned war from her brothers, negotiation at the knee of a general and in the shadow of a prince, and government at the side of duchesses and queens.)
(If he wants her help uniting his people, he needs to prove that he can hold them together once she’s gone.)
---------------------------
Ahsoka’s interrogation of Jango’s plans is thorough, and she’s not the only one involved. She brings Leia in, and has her join in on the grilling. She maybe laughs as the twenty-seven-year-old survivor of Galidraan, the Mand’alor, a man who has killed Master Jedi with his bare hands, gets lectured on various government structures by a tiny girl that's missing several teeth and needs to sit on books to see the table properly.
Still, Leia knows this better than any of the rest of them do. The girl might have grown up heir to a monarchy, but she got a classical education and was drilled on democracy and all associated forms of government. Where Ahsoka knows military protocol and law enforcement, intersystem relations and defensive measures, Leia knows agricultural subsidies and welfare programs, infrastructure and education.
Ahsoka may know how to find out if someone’s breaking a zoning law, but Leia knows why it exists in the first place.
“And I grew up in a cult,” Rex says, when an argument on that topic breaks out. Everyone that hasn’t heard the joke-that-isn’t-a-joke stares at him. “The Jedi grew up in a religious meritocracy; Leia grew up in a monarchy; and I grew up in a cult.”
Ahsoka elbows him. He’s not wrong, but still.
Unfortunately, Ahsoka is about forty-seven percent sure that Leia will put her foot in her mouth when it comes to Mandalorian culture, blunt as the girl is. That prefrontal cortex isn’t anywhere near as developed as it should be, either, so impulse control for the princess isn’t great. Ahsoka refuses to let Leia and Fett talk about ways to mend the breaks between tradition and the pacifism of the New Mandalorians without either Rex or Ahsoka herself as a mediating presence. Tholme sits in a few times, but while he knows that Leia isn’t really six--though not about the time-travel, yet--Quinlan doesn’t.
They admittedly end up doing this while he’s on Maul-sitting duty.
“It’s like he doesn’t even care about making nice with the people that, at this point, make up the majority of his people!” Leia grumbles one night, as Ahsoka kicks over a step stool so the girl can brush her teeth. “He may not like the New Mandalorians, but from what I understand, it’s still early enough to prevent the majority of the cultural bleaching you brought up. If he stays this stubborn--”
“Leia,” Ahsoka says, and the girl’s mouth snaps shut. “I’m aware of your reasons for not trusting his intentions. But if I may say? Chill.”
“He’s not even trying!”
“He’s trying a hell of a lot harder than he did in the original timeline,” Ahsoka reminds her. “Brush your teeth.”
“I’m not a--”
“Teeth.”
It’s a little worrying, how the child’s brain affects Leia, but... well. That’ll pass in time, hopefully. Until then, Ahsoka gets to be the aunt she should have been. This includes tucking Leia in, which the girl grumbles about despite the fond waves of comfort that enter the Force around her. Ahsoka doesn’t call her out on it, just brushes back wisps of hair to plant a kiss on Leia’s forehead, and then does the same once Rex stumbles in, grumbling about the limitations of a cadet’s body, but far more ready to follow the protocol that is bedtime.
Rex doesn’t pretend to not like getting tucked in, for all that he’s sharing with a grumbly, already-asleep princess. He smiles up at Ahsoka, lets her hug him, and pretends they can be a normal family for five seconds.
Quinlan’s making a late night snack for himself in the galley. Tholme is guarding the Baby Sith. Fett...
Ahsoka goes to the cockpit, takes the copilot’s seat, and watches hyperspace pass them by.
It takes long minutes before either of them say anything.
“Do Jedi believe in souls?”
His shields are up, locked up tighter than the innermost chambers of the Imperial Palace. She has no idea where he’s taking this question. She has to cast about for an answer.
“That depends on how you define a soul,” she finally says. “Leia told me about Force Ghosts. A Jedi Master who underwent the right meditations and training could pass into the Force upon their death without losing their sense of self. They could remain themselves, to an extent, and interact with force-sensitive individuals. I don’t know if they could last that way indefinitely, but depending on your definition, I could argue those ghosts were evidence of a form of soul.”
“So you believe that the dead pass into the Force, but that what passes could be a soul. Something must exist for a sense of self to disappear at death in a way that impacts the Force as you understand it, and many would use the word ‘soul’ for that something.”
“Mm,” Ahsoka considers it. “I’d say that’s pretty accurate. You’ve put a lot of thought into this.”
“What about those not yet born?”
Her fingers feel cold, and she finds herself no longer able to watch the passage of hyperspace as passively as she had, and her eyes catch on streaks and motes of what is not dust, her vision unable to keep any more still than her heart.
“Oh,” she hears herself say. “The clones.”
It’s a long time before he answers, but the walls come down. He carries a confused sort of grief with him, guilty and a mite resentful. His questions have been building for longer than she’d thought. His voice is rough. “I’ve taken plenty of lives, but I’ve never known the name of someone I erased from existence before they were even born.”
“The stories we told Leia about the brothers.”
There’s a grunt of agreement from Fett, so those dots at least connect.
“I take it my answer wasn’t helpful,” she manages to say.
“Will they still exist?” Fett asks. “Will they be born elsewhere? Or is... is a soul something that only comes into existence after the body does?”
“I have no idea,” Ahsoka admits. “I want... I want to think that I’d be able to find them eventually, to recognize them, if their souls are still born into this world elsewhere.”
“And if your Sith finds someone else to build his army out of?”
Ahsoka looks at him, sharp and pointed. “You wouldn’t.”
“They’ll be doing it anyway, if their plans are as ironclad as you say.”
“You’re already associating with Jedi,” Ahsoka says, fighting the urge to break his nose. “They wouldn’t approach you, not now. They can’t leverage your anger against you. They won’t know everything, but they’ll know that you have friends among the Jedi.”
“You think they can’t come up with better lies?”
He has a point. He has more than one point and she hate hate hates it.
A Jedi does not hate.
I am no Jedi.
“You’re going to have to convince me,” she says. “Especially if you want to somehow balance this with the darksaber thing. I won’t teach you how to fight with it if you’re not planning to retake Mandalore.”
“That’s how they’d sell it,” he says. “Retaking Mandalore. An army ostensibly for the Jedi, and ultimately...”
“You’d build an army of slaves.”
“No, I’d be the inside man for when they build that army anyway.”
She holds his gaze. She looks away first.
“Torrent?”
“I’m thinking.”
He lets her.
“I’ll need to talk to Rex. Probably Leia.”
“Understandable.”
“I don’t like this.”
“I’m only just considering it. It’s an idea, not a plan.”
“That’s the only reason I haven’t ripped your throat out with my teeth.”
“Hyperbole doesn’t suit you.”
She glares at him, and leaves, her mind chopping up and laying out every possible angle on Fett volunteering to do the exact same thing as last time, but somehow worse.
Great. Just what she needed.
---------------------------
Ahsoka isn’t there for the shouting match between Rex and Fett, but she doesn’t have to be. She can hear it form clear across the ship, and Rex comes to her afterwars. He’s been crying, which isn’t as surprising as it could be. These bodies are still prone to such things, and will be for years. She doesn’t comment.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asks.
“We need to take out Sidious before he starts anything on Kamino.”
“Agreed,” she says. “It’ll be hard, though.”
“I don’t care.”
“What did Fett say?”
“That if it wasn’t going to be my brothers, it would be someone else’s. Either we stopped the cloning from happening at all, or we mitigated damage by being there.”
“I don’t think Sidious is going to tap him for it,” Ahsoka admits. “Not unless you’re willing to stage that kind of fight publicly enough for Fett to claim the Jedi poisoned you, family, against him. It could work, but it’s a gamble.”
He knows all of this.
“I miss them,” he says, and she cards her fingers though the curls he’s managed to grow in the past weeks. “I just... even at the end, I had Wolffe. I knew Boba was out there; I wouldn’t be surprised if the beskar let him survive a Sarlacc. I had brothers. Not as many as I used to, but there was always someone. I miss them all, so much it hurts.”
“It wouldn’t be them,” she reminds him. She pulls him closer, puts her cheek to his head. “It would be the same process, the same faces, the same training, even, but the boys themselves...”
He clings to her and shudders.
“Rex?”
“I can’t force them to grow up the way I did. I want them back. Sidious is going to make the army no matter what. Someone’s going to suffer, and I don’t want it to be my brothers, but they won’t exist otherwise, and...”
“And it’s an impossible choice,” she summarizes. “And it sucks.”
“It’s sucks Gungan balls, ‘Soka.”
She laughs, and feels him smile against her shoulder. Good. He needs to smile more.
“He’s still trying to get me to like him,” Rex says. "He’s still making an effort, and he never did that for anyone except Boba, and it’s weird. I don’t know what to do with any of that.”
“Gain a brother,” Ahsoka whispers, and she feels him jerk against her. “If that’s what you want.”
“He’s not vod.”
“Same blood as all the rest, and you’re older than him, so he’s not really in a position to be a parent to you like he was to Boba,” she says carefully. “You don’t have to do anything, if you don’t want to, but... I think he’s trying. I think this means a lot to him, and that he isn’t any more sure of what to do than you are. You don’t have to forgive him for what he did in the future, you don’t have to accept when he reaches out, you don’t have to ever talk to him again after we reach Coruscant if you don’t want, but I think... I think it’s worth at least considering what you have to gain. I think it’s worth looking at what he’s trying to give you.”
Rex huffs. “Why couldn’t he just be the shabuir I knew in training?”
“Something happened between now and then?” she offers. “I don’t know. I never met him in the original timeline. I just know the guy that keeps trying to get on my good side so you’ll like him.”
He outright scoffs. “Soka, that’s not the only reason he’s trying to get on your good side.”
“...I’m a former Jedi who talks trash to his face,” she says slowly. “And I cried on him. There is no reason for him to be nice to me, other than you.”
“He thinks you’re cool and a good person and wants you to be his friend.”
“Bantha poodoo.”
Rex grins in a way that goes straight to smirking. “Soka, I’m not joking. Jango Fett wants you to be his friend.”
“Kriffing why?” she asks, more than a little horrified. “I’m a mess, look like I’m ten years younger than him, have gleefully kicked his ass in front of an audience; I even told Vos to throw him at a baby Sith Lord. Putting up with me is one thing, but I’m... I’m only barely not a Jedi. I’m a historical enemy of Mandalore, and part of the community he hates more than anything, and--”
“And his reaction to you kicking his ass was pure Mando,” Rex says. “In that he now thinks you’re a badass, and thus worth being friends with.”
“I can’t believe that. I physically cannot.”
“Soka, just accept it. The Mand’alor wants to be friends with you.” He scratches at his scalp. “I mean, he met you while you were protecting what appeared to be children, and it’s apparently still early enough for him to care about that.”
She leans back in her seat, eyes on the wall ahead of her and back against the cool metal of the other side. Rex falls back with her. She wonders if Rex changed the subject so they didn’t have to talk about deciding how many of his brothers get to exist, and whether or not he can swallow the bitterness of his history to have a connection with at least one member of his blood. She doesn’t ask. If he wants to change the subject, that’s his right.
“I don’t... no.” She denies it as well as she can, and then the implications dig a little deeper. “Is this me accidentally signing up to be the Jedi Order’s official liaison to the Mand’alor?”
“I mean, this point in time... they’ve got Kenobi for the Duchess, yeah?” Rex shrugs. “Good relations with the system are probably a good thing, and you’ve got a stronger connection than Tholme and Vos.”
“Ugh,” she says. She rubs a hand against her head, and then lurches to her feet. “Fine! Fine. If it’ll get him to retake Mandalore before the Sith decide to bribe him with an army he doesn’t get to keep, I’ll teach him how to fight for the kriffin’ Darksaber.”
“That’s what makes the decision for you?”
“Well something had to!”
They only get one lesson in before Coruscant, but the lesson lasts a full day, and Ahsoka’s got his comm number. Fett’s a quick learner anyway, and Tholme was there to give pointers where Ahsoka couldn’t.
He won’t measure up to a Jedi in saber-to-saber combat, but he doesn’t need to. He just needs to learn enough to turn all those skills with a beskad to something that works with a jetii’kad.
(The balance of a saber is wrong to those used to a physical weapon. The inertia doesn’t work the way anyone expects. There’s no need to worry about damaging the blade.)
(Fett is good. Ahsoka is better. And, bless his heart, he knows it.)
(She will mold him into the shape of someone who not only can, but should rule a system with a history like that, and he damn well knows that too.)
---------------------------
“Dropping out of hyperspace in T-minus twenty seconds.”
The Slave I is not, in fact, a Venator-class starship, or anything else near the size and smoothness of the ships that Ahsoka grew up on. This is a bounty hunter’s vessel, and the drop to real space jolts like nothing else. Ahsoka’s in the copilot seat for the return, but Tholme’s going to swap with her as soon as they’ve got confirmation that there were no problems with exiting hyperspace, and nobody’s shooting at them.
“We’re not going to get shot at,” Tholme had assured her.
“I always get shot at,” she’d told him.
“I have our clearance,” he reminded her, seeming more amused than frustrated. “There’s no need to worry about getting shot at.”
“I also always get shot at,” Jango had thrown in.
“Okay,” Tholme had allowed, after several minutes of his trust in the Temple warring against Ahsoka and Jango’s learned paranoia. The looks Quinlan had darted around the room when Leia and Rex also claimed ‘chronic getting-shot-at disease’ had been a treat. The paranoia of a Watchman and a future Shadow was great, but the paranoia of three revolutionaries and a galaxy-wide criminal was greater. “You can take us in close enough to get in radio contact, but the second we have to ask for clearance and a vector, I’m in the seat.”
She’d agreed, of course. She was paranoid, not inexperienced.
“We’re much less likely to get shot down by ground control if you tell them we’re with you,” she’d said, to his hilariously apparent metaphysical exhaustion. “Obviously.”
“Good enough,” he’d sighed.
What that means is mostly just that Ahsoka gets to watch the distant star at the center of Coruscant’s system grow rapidly brighter. She can pick out the constellations she’d grown up with, the stars the creche had projected on the ceiling every night, the ones that she may not have seen from the surface, but had greeted her and then sent her on her way every time she left on yet another campaign that lost her men their lives for a Sith Lord's wretched plans. These were the shapes and stories she’d never seen again as Fulcrum, a woman so hunted that to come within a dozen subsectors of the planet was to court her death.
For sixteen years, she hadn’t ventured closer than Alderaan, save for a single trip to Chandrila.
And now, maybe twenty minutes away at this speed, was the Temple. It was home.
A home that didn’t know her, that had sentenced her to death, that had hosted the rampage of her former master... but home nonetheless.
“Stable?” Fett grunts.
“Thrusters are good,” she confirms.
“I meant you.”
Ah. “I’m... fine. As good as I could be, anyway.”
She hesitates, but manages to speak before he does. “You?”
“I’m not the one walking into an entire building of triggers.”
“Only because you’re not entering it,” she says. “It’s the home of your ancestral enemies who, bad info or no, killed off a whole lot of your friends.”
“I get to leave,” he says. “You don’t.”
She plans to needle him a bit more, maybe on something a little less based in both their traumas. She needs to talk, if only to fill up the silence and keep herself from reaching out to all the lights in the Force. It’ll be too much, she knows.
Tholme enters the cockpit. “Change of plans.”
“Better be a good reason,” Jango says, voice flat.
“Leia’s crying.”
Ahsoka’s unbuckling herself before she can process the words fully. “What?”
Leia doesn’t cry for no reason. Her emotional control is as difficult as the body makes it, but she doesn’t just cry. There’s always a cause.
“I don’t know. Rex said to get you,” Tholme explains. “She was saying a name. He seemed to recognize it.”
Not good not good not good. If Leia was feeling the Emper--No. She cuts the thought off there. No catastrophizing. Information first.
“What name.”
“Luke. Mean anything to--and she’s gone.”
Ahsoka ignores him, just sprints to where she knows the ‘young ones’ are. They’re all in Maul’s room, because nobody wants to be alone with him now, but it’s the worst time to leave him without supervision. It’s not the worst option; he mostly refuses to talk, still.
This holds true, because he definitely isn’t talking when she bursts in. He’s sitting on the bench, in a corner, hugging his knees and watching Quinlan try to calm Leia down.
“Captain, sitrep.”
“Vos and Tholme attempted to show Leia how to reach out to feel the Temple from a distance. They felt that it would be a good use of the time, and an interesting exercise at this distance. She attempted to do so, struggled for several minutes, and then reacted with shock. She has repeated the name ‘Luke’ several times since then, and we’ve been unable to fully calm her down. I asked Tholme to get you, as you are the only Force-Sensitive on board that understands the situation in full.”
“Understood.” She nods to him, and then goes to nudge at Quinlan. “Vos, move.”
“Torre--”
“You can sit behind her, hold her in your lap like you did when we had lunch the other day, but I need to get in her face.” She waits for him to comply, and then drops to her knees and takes Leia’s hands in her own. She radiates calm and assurance, even though she knows Quinlan’s probably been doing the same since this started. She dips her head enough to get in the girl’s line of sight, waits for her to meet eyes.
“Princess,” she says, and meets Leia’s eyes. “What did you feel?”
“Luke.”
From this distance... they’ve got half the system to go, at least, and Leia’s training shouldn’t reach that far for anything more than the fact that the Temple is there. Ahsoka could feel unshielded individuals from here, if she focused, but she’s also been doing this much, much longer. The twins theory holds more water than ever.
“Can you show me?” Ahsoka asks, instead of asking for more clarification. She squeezes Leia’s hands and smiles. “In the Force?”
Leia nods, and closes her eyes. It’s not the first time they’ve done this, but it’s the first time in a while that Leia’s needed Ahsoka to guide her through.
Luke’s light, for all that it’s unfamiliar to Ahsoka, is brilliant among the rest of the signatures in Coruscant. Like Anakin and Leia, he’s a star in his own right, but he’s brighter. He doesn’t have Anakin’s bitterness or Leia’s righteous anger, just... light. Ahsoka had asked Leia to show her instead of looking for herself because she’d expected to not recognize the boy, but she needn’t have. He’s unmistakable.
He’s so bright that she almost misses the other signature that she does recognize. She shies away, knowing that it would be there, but... but it’s almost twinned with another nearby. Not identical, but different in a way that comes with age, with trauma, with... death.
Leia hadn’t arrived alone, after all.
Why would Luke?
Her eyes snap open, her hand coming up not-quite-fast enough to clap over her mouth as she gasps. She feels a shudder, one that starts in her shoulders and reaches deep into her ribcage, finds a home in her chest and doesn’t stop.
“Oh fuck,” Quinlan whispers. “Torrent? Um, Sokari?”
Rex steps closer. “Commander?”
“That shabuir faked his death again,” she manages. “Three times, Rex!”
He blinks at her. “...I know way too many people who fit that description, Soka.”
“Master Ke--” she cuts herself off. He might have changed his name, just like she had. There’s already an Obi-Wan here. Rex seems to be figuring it out, but she needs to give him another hint.
“He pulled a Hardeen,” she stresses, and Rex’s eyes snap shut with a tired groan.
“Who?” Leia asks, her own tumult of emotion paused in the wake of Ahsoka’s shock. There’s a hope and relief to her, and Ahsoka belatedly realizes that her main worry had been that she’d misidentified what was going on, that she’d given herself a false hope. Ahsoka’s internal reaction, her approval and awe at Luke’s presence, had trickled over enough to give Leia the reassurance she’d needed.
Unintentional as it was, Ahsoka was glad that she’d succeeded in helping her charge.
“Er...” she trails off. “I don’t know what name he’s going by, right now. We’ve spent so long in hiding...”
“The man Luke knew as Crazy Old Ben,” Rex says, and Leia’s eyes light up.
“Oh,” she breathes. “General O--no, names. The High General, then.”
“Yeah,” Ahsoka says, not a little soft. “Yeah, I guess death didn’t stop him any more than it stopped me.”
“I could have told you that,” Leia says, smiling far too widely. She squirms where she still sits on Quinlan’s lap. “He was... he taught you, right?”
“As much my master as the official one,” Ahsoka says. She glances as Quinlan, feels Maul’s gaze on the back of her head. “Your f... my official master was very young when I was assigned to him. He wasn’t ready to teach, wasn’t even ready to be a knight, entirely, so my training was split between him and his master.”
Quinlan pops in at that moment, “Your grandmaster was military, too?”
We all were, she thinks. Even you, in your own way.
“I landed in their care mid-battle,” she says carefully. “It was a complicated situation.”
He nods, and she vaguely notes that he’s got his arms wrapped around Leia, and his chin tucked on top of her head. She isn’t sure if Leia’s noticed, but Quinlan’s picked up ‘baby’-sitting duty so often recently that she’s fairly certain he’s all but declared her ‘little-sister shaped.’ It doesn’t matter that Leia’s older--she’s still taking the juice boxes and gummy snacks that Quinlan shoves at her every single snacktime.
“Do you think...” Rex trails off, something uncomfortable twisting in the Force, even though his face keeps it mostly hidden. “My brothers. If the General survived and... and made it back...”
“I didn’t feel any,” Ahsoka says, because she knows she’d have noticed if it was anyone she’d met, and likely any clone at all. They all felt different in the Force, but they all held a spark that made her know it was one of them. “I’m sorry, Rex’ika.”
“A long shot,” he says, that dash of hope shriveling up. He must see something in her face, because there’s a curl of warmth in him, even if his smile is brittle. “It’s fine, really. I have you, ‘Soka.”
Rex and Ahsoka. Two halves of one whole.
She can’t wait to hear the lectures on attachment, the way people who haven’t seen her wars try to criticize her for clinging to any chance at still having a will to live. She can’t wait to see them justify telling her that it’s selfish to hold her sanity in her hands and refuse to let the grief take it away. She can’t wait to stare someone down for asking her to ‘learn to let go’ after she’s lost her family, her life, her universe three times over.
Most of the Jedi are more sensible than that, are reasonable enough to see those shades of grey and how to approach rules in the spirit they are meant instead of the rigid letter, but there will be some.
There will be more than enough telling her she is wrong to hold her oldest, closest, best friend as dear as she can.
Attachment, they’ll say.
What they’ll mean is ‘codepedence.’
They won’t be entirely wrong.
She reaches out for him, lets him fall into her side and stay there, closes her eyes and reaches out for the man she’d long called father, when they’d still been in each other’s lives.
This time, past the deafening flare of surprise-love-hope of the little star next to him, she can feel him reach back.
---------------------------
The second the ship has landed, even before Tholme and Fett are done with the checks, Ahsoka’s waiting at the exit. She strains her hearing so she’ll know the second the system will let her open the massive door of the cargo hold.
Leia clings to her side, and the boys stand to her back.
Quinlan’s stressed enough that she can feel it like a cloud. She is very much not trying to feel that stress. Quinlan’s stress levels, back where he’s got Maul so he can keep an eye on Ahsoka and the Baby Sith at the same time, are so low on her priorities list that it’s a a little sad.
It doesn’t take long for her to be able to punch the button and open the damn door.
It opens slowly. She bounces on her toes, because there’s a beacon of light and a steady, familiar glow on the other side, and she’s so, so close. She can’t see through the crack yet, because it’s day in this part of Coruscant, and the sunlight is blinding against the dark of the hold. So close. She’s so close.
“The hell’s wrong with you?”
Fett? Fett. He’s already here to get off? This door’s slow.
She doesn’t answer him, because the door is finally open enough to let her out, and she leaps through the gap.
She lands on a pourstone floor, feels pebbles and grit compress under her boots, frantically looks around as her eyes adjust to light and--
The High General, the Negotiator, Master Obi-Wan Kenobi, looking just as he did when she first met him, if a little less armored and a little more fed. The hair, the beard, the crinkle in the corner of his eyes. His spirit is a little older, his smile a little more strained, his posture a little more tired, but it’s him.
He spreads his arms, low enough that she could have dismissed it if she’d cared less for hugs, except she’s almost as small as she was when they met.
And every other hug she’d given back then had been, functionally, her being a living missile aiming her montrals for someone’s organs.
She’s a little more aware of how to avoid stabbing her friends in the intestine now.
“Master!”
She sprints for him, collides and sobs, feels him stumble back and then sink to his knees on the too-hard floor, and can feel the tears pouring out of her already. Her breath hitches, and she wails like a child, and that last part of her that couldn’t even grasp at safety shreds itself. His arms are tight around her, warm and strong and Master Kenobi don’t you dare leave again.
It doesn’t matter that Sidious is out there, that the Republic’s been building towards war for a century, that even now someone’s kicking up the Trade Federation. Her dad is here.
“I’ve missed you too, my dear,” he says, pressing a kiss to the side of her head, the bristles of his beard scratching along the skin of her forehead. Off to the side, the binary suns that are Luke and Leia grow brighter in proximity, so bright she can barely bear it.
(“Fett, why the kriff are you reaching for your blaster?!”)
(“Torrent said her master tried to kill her.”)
(“Different guy, that was a different guy, put the blaster away.”)
(“You could have just warned me.”)
(“I didn’t expect you to go for a shot on sight!”)
(”Calm down, Jetiika, if I was going to shoot on sight, we’d already be in a firefight.”)
She ignores everything.
“If you fake your death one more time, I swear I’m going to kill you myself.”
He tries to pull away to talk to her more directly. She does not let him. He apparently resigns himself to this, because he just adjusts how he’s sitting and pulls her in closer.
“In my defense, I was far from the only one presumed dead that took advantage of that status, by the end,” he says, letting her slump into his lap and cry herself dry. “I’m proud of you. You know that, I hope.”
She nods against his chest, smearing tears and snot across the linen and wool. She doesn’t care that they’ll need a thorough washing. She can have her public breakdown and it’s fine because Master Kenobi is here.
He doesn’t even know what she’s spent the past fifteen years doing. Luke wouldn’t have known. He doesn’t know she’s thirty-two and broken, beyond a shadow and cut down by her own master. There’s so much he doesn’t know but the Force rings with the truth of it: he’s proud of her anyway.
“I’m going by Ben, now,” he mutters against her montral. “There’s already an Obi-Wan here, after all. Still, I remain a Kenobi.”
She can’t make the words come out of her mouth. She’s overwhelmed, so much so that speech is a mite bit beyond her.
Sokari Torrent, she presses along the frayed bond that’s knitting itself back to life with every breath they take. Leia was already calling me Auntie Soka, and Rex and I both took Torrent, for...
“For the men you lost,” he mutters. “Yes, that’s fitting.”
He smells like sapir tea and a spiced beard oil.
There’s a whirl of activity about her, greetings and ‘a Sith apprentice?’ and introductions. She distantly notes when Fett almost shoots Dooku before Rex shuts that down and advises the Master to leave the area before things spiral out of control. She feels Ben stand, and she stands with him, clings to his side like a child and trusts that whatever happens, whatever needs to happen, he’ll take care of it until she can stand on her own two feet without swaying.
Rex grabs her free hand, and she feels herself settle back into her skin, bit by bit.
She’s back at the Temple. The twins are safe. Her grandmaster is here. She has her other half.
They can save the galaxy this time.
She’s alive she’s home she’s okay.
She’s okay.
Everything’s going to be okay.
#Ahsoka Tano#Captain Rex#Leia Organa#Jango Fett#rex and ahsoka#Quinlan Vos#Tholme#Depa Billaba#Obi Wan Kenobi#Ben Kenobi#Maul#Darth Maul#time travel#de aging#ptsd#trauma#child soldiers#Phoenix Files#Uncle Ben and Little Luke#Auntie Soka and Little Leia#disaster lineage
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Manager!Inarizaki
a/n: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i would put in all the reqs but there were so many people who requested for our fox babies that it would literally take up every space :”) and im happy to comply so here it is
AAAA LOOK THEY’RE SO CUTE OMG LIKE BLS BUT IM A RIN SIMP :’)
alkdfjlsdfi
sunarin simp is typing😍🍃💞..........
ogeiogeiogei
hehehehehe
so im actually just going to include the starting lineup like i knowwwww theres subs but im only most familiar with the regulars :(
okay so anyways!!
now
you might be wondering
how in the hell did you become the manager of these crackheads
from calm papi kita to psycho tsumu,
why are you their manager
you, the cute and shy and innocent not wittle first year, somehow became the manager of the powerhouse volleyball team of inarizaki high
it all started with our dear lovely samu
hehe bet you didnt see that coming
now we all know baby samu literally is the biggest foodie in the team and he constantly thinks about food 24/7 therefore there isnt much room in there for anything else except for volleyball
basically,
the dude loves to eat
it just so happens that you made food
your family owned a cafe down the street from the school and you worked there after school to help your parents
now how does this tie in with samu you ask
this chile was so hungry that he had to skip practice
sending kita a quick text about doing a quick errand, he walked down the street on the hunt for a quick place to grab a bite
he totally ignored kita’s warning of cramps if he ate a lot then practiced but whatever food is life
it just so happens he stumbles upon your family’s cafe
when he entered, the smell of bread and food entered his nostrils causing this baby to just float right in
you were manning the register while your brother was at school so you smiled at the incoming figure of this familiar boy
and because you recognized him, you couldnt help but grin and gasp a little
‘oh! miya-senpai!’
you exclaimed and osamu was confused because he’s never seen you before but he thought you were probably a kouhai in school
you looked young and definitely not a face he’s seen before so he concluded you were most likely a first year
and you were really cute
like really
really
cute
that thought caused this babe to blink awkwardly and nod at your direction
‘uh, hi’
he greeted and you smiled at his awkward nature
‘what can i get you today, miya-senpai?’
he must’ve been busy looking at you to actually look at the menu behind you and he fumbled, rushing to find a food to get
‘wh-what do ya recommend?’
he asked and you paused then thought deeply
‘hmm, we have onigiris freshly made! and we also have milk bread thats really good!’
did you just-
did you just say onigiri?
‘yea ill take some onigiri’
he decided and you lit up
‘perfect! the total is-’
he completely blanked out because wow your smile was really pretty
‘miya-senpai? miya-senpai?’
you called out and he snapped out of it
‘oh, sorry, here’
he gave you the cash and you gave him back his change before wandering to the glass case where the savory foods were placed
you seemed to glide over and osamu watched you with fond eyes, interest bubbling in him
there was something about you that made him curious
but he just didnt know what
it confused him because maybe you were just someone he hasnt seen before and not the same fans he sees all the time
‘you’re really lucky, miya-senpai. i just finished making them minutes before you walked in’
you commented
this took him aback
‘you cook?’
he suddenly asked and you chuckled, soft and airy laughs filling the air
‘of course, senpai! learning to cook is an essential for a business like this’
and thus created a beautiful friendship
he would come over to eat nearly every day of the week while you would happily serve him
sometimes, he would even buy extra so you could eat with him
while you were talking, he noticed you lacked the accent others from there had and he thought you were not originally from hyogo
he learned that you were actually from miyagi and you moved here just this year
‘so, how ya liking it ‘round here?’
he asked one day, after swallowing his food
you thought about it before shrugging
‘i mean, its still the countryside so i guess everything’s the same. maybe the dialect? my neighbors have strong accents, haha’
samu chuckled
‘its common over here. ya sound a lot more from tokyo. my best friend’s from there, ya see’
you raised an eyebrow
‘hm?’
‘rin. suna rin is in the team and hes from tokyo so he sounds like a standard city boy. ill take ya to meet him sometime’
nah he really wasnt
he wanted to keep you away from the others as much as possible, especially his brother, because he was a greasy mf
but that didnt really work out into plan because you approached him in school the other day
you saw him and you hurriedly ran to him where he stood with his twin and some guy
tsumu saw you coming from behind his brother and he smirked before nodding at you
‘samu, ya got a girlie running for ya’
samu turned, confused, until he saw your adorable face
‘y/n. whats up?’
you grinned
‘you left your team jacket, miya-senpai’
the red jacket was clutched in your hands and the two boys behind him shared a surprised look because osamu never mentioned a girlfriend
and with the way you were holding his jacket, the two boys immediately jumped into conclusions
well
more like atsumu started whining at osamu for not telling him he had a girl
‘i thought we were brothers! brothers for life!’
samu just awkwardly stands there and he has a sheepish look in his eyes that were looking at you apologetically
‘sorry about him, y/n. but thank you for returning it’
you handed him the fabric before smiling
‘it was a good thing you had a spare one for me, miya-senpai. who knew the rain would come so suddenly’
osamu sighed then playfully poked your forehead with his finger
‘how many times do i have to tell you to call me by my first name? i really dont want to hear anything that associates me with this bastard’
atsumu socked osamu at the shoulder causing the gray-haired boy to look away from you and start yelling at his brother
‘touch me again! see what happens then!’
‘yer just showing off for yer girlie! ya aint doin nothing!’
suna shook his head before turning to you with a sympathetic look
‘you really want to be with this guy? him and this idiot are practically a package’
you tilted your head
‘im,,, not with miya-senpai?’
suna blinked
‘but he gave you his jacket. he doesnt even give it to me. i guess its not part of best friend privileges’
at the mention of best friend, you lit up
‘oh! you must be sunarin! the tokyo boy!’
baby rin choked a little at the sight of your grin and he scrunched his eyebrows while awkwardly raising the corner of his lips to a smile
‘you,, uh,,, you know me?’
like it was the most obvious thing in the world, you nodded
‘at first, when miya-senpai told me, i didnt know who you were. but! youre actually very popular, suna-senpai! too bad i never saw you until today, though, because we’re in different floors. but! a lot of girls talk about you!’
poor rin didnt know how to react to that because he didnt want to look flustered but he didnt want to look cocky either
so he just opted to smile gently
‘oh. well, in that case. let me introduce myself to you. suna rintaro’
can we normalize suna being an actual nice guy instead of the cold stand-offish player bastard?
you shook his hand and said your name as well
like samu, he asked you to call him by his first name too since you were close to his friend therefore should try being close to you too
speaking of samu, him and atsumu reduced the violence to just bickering and they were still teasing each other even after you and suna talked
the coochi bangs boy rolled his eyes then slapped atsumu’s arm to gain their attention
‘yo. theres a girl here. try and be nice and civil’
atsumu seems like he forgot your existence because his eyes brightened at the sight of you
‘oh! heya!’
you nervously smiled at him because his hyperness and overall atsumu-ness was quite overwhelming
‘h-hello, miya-senpai’
atsumu pouted at how apprehensive you sounded
‘eyyy, why are you being nervous, girlie? im just samu, yanno! same face and everything!’
osamu knew you well enough that you were kinda awkward and you didnt know how to approach a hyper person like his brother so he naturally saved you
‘hey, y/n, the bell’s about to ring any moment now so try to not be late and ill be sure to see you later. do you want me to pick you up from your class and we can walk together?’
to you, it was just a simple offer from a friend but to the two, that was the confirmation of your relationship with the wing spiker
‘wahh, atsumu, your brother really is better than you. he knows how to treat girls good’
atsumu took offense to this
‘excuse you! i would be too if there were genuine girls in this school!’
osamu’s aggressive blinking was his signal for you to hurry along and you noticed causing you to chuckle before bidding goodbye
‘it was nice meeting you, rin-senpai. and,,, you too, miya-senpai. samu-senpai, later at 3?’
osamu softly smiled while nodding
‘later at 3’
the TEASING HE FACED from the two was unbearable and despite the amount of times he denied it, they were still teasing him
‘samu’s got a girlfriend~! samu’s got a girlfriend~!’
‘tsumu, i swear to god if you dont shut your trap’
‘imagine having a girlfriend’
true to his word, osamu was waiting for ya at the bottom of the stairwell from the one that led to the second floor, absentmindedly kicking some invisible thing in the floor
you were fixing your bag straps on your shoulders when you saw him at the end of the hallway and you couldnt contain your excitement seeing the grey haired boy
‘samu-senpai!!’
you shouted, getting his attention that made him whip his head up
the blank face contorted into a small smile and he raised a hand
‘yo’
when you made it next to him, you were grinning really big and samu felt flustered at your happy face
so he cupped your chin with his large hand that allowed him to squeeze both cheeks
‘cutie’
he mumbled but you didnt catch it, too busy trying to get him to stop squishing
you were originally supposed to go walk over to the cafe but you didnt know that osamu was actually trying to skip practice and he was trying to hide from the members
okay first off, i dont think samu would ever skip practice willingly bc he has the same drive as miya atsumu but he also just wants to spend time with you asklfjldfjdlk
but the loud mouth tsumu saw you guys as you turned a hallway
you were busy talking to osamu about some cooking chef guy gordon and he was nodding and talking but then he heard a loud shout
‘SAMU!’
osamu babie didnt know what was happening so he protectively placed an arm in front of you and hurriedly shoved you behind him in case something happened
duh you didnt know what was happening either so you were clutching his jacket and peeked from his arm to see atsumu stomping over with suna trailing behind him, seemingly texting on his phone
osamu lazily glared at his brother
‘what’
atsumu blanched and sped walk faster until he was right in front of him to yell
‘IM TIRED OF YER EXCUSES! JUST CUS YA GOT YASELF A GIRLIE DUN MEAN YA GET TO SKIP PRACTICE!’
you furrowed your eyebrows
you tugged at his jacket and osamu turned to peer down at you and he gulped, preparing himself to hear your scolding
it wasnt the first time you scolded him as you just told him off the other day for not eating enough vegetables and fruits to balance out his unhealthy love for onigiri and sweets
‘samu-senpai,,, you told me you guys were taking an off week. why are you skipping practice today’
you were genuinely worried and you didnt seem to understand why he did that but the other two did and atsumu didnt hesitate
‘CUS HE WANTS TA SPEND TIME WITH YA, Y/N! BASTARD CANT EVEN BOTHER TO TELL ME THE REASON! YER SICK?! WHAT THE HELL EXCUSE IS THAT! YA NEVER GET SICK!’
poor suna is just watching this go down and he felt bad that you were caught in the middle
so he suggested a compromise
you watched sunarin push atsumu’s chest to make him back off and he gently smiled at you before looking at the two
‘how about we all go to practice and if y/n-chan wants, she can wait and osamu can spend time with her when hes done? besides, atsumu, you know osamu has been doing good on his spikes. maybe we can persuade coach and kita to let him off early since hes,,, quote unquote,, ‘sick’’
osamu debated but you emerged from behind him
‘sure! samu-senpai would love to go to practice! right, samu-senpai?’
you smiled at him but it was a stern smile
you just wanted him to go to practice because you knew now of how important volleyball was to the school and they needed to get all their time and energy to win the sport
atsumu agreed to this plan but osamu was forced to accept it
simp
just for extra measure, sunarin and tsumu walked behind you guys to the gym so you and samu had time to talk
you were chiding him of course because why would he waste time with spending time with you
‘just wanted to see ya, y/n-chan’
he winked but you pouted and wrinkled your nose
‘you cant weasel yourself out of this, samu-senpai’
osamu has never heard you scold him before so he was like o.o but inside he was like,,, hot
the gym was already on full practice and kita saw the second years from the door
aran LAKDJFLAKSFJLASDKF ARAN AAAAAAAAAAAAA nudged mimi with a smirk
as much as they loved the underclassmen, watching them get told off by kita was too funny to not watch
but what caused them to curiously peer behind the three was the appearance of a girl
a girl?
‘why’s a girl with them?’
aran mumbled and mimi shrugged, but also intrigued
you were behind osamu and he could tell you were nervous because youve heard of the reputation of the team
they were seen as practically as popular as the basketball team and everyone worshipped them
they were who put the school’s name in the map and you were about to meet the legends of inarizaki
thankfully, atsumu and rin walked to the front of you two so you and samu were at the back
samu didnt look at you but he reached behind him to open his palm as a signal for you to take it
you gratefully grabbed it and leaned closer in case something happens
‘KITA-SAN! WE GOT EM!’
atsumu shouted and suna chided him for being really loud
‘you’re late’
an even voice said in front of them and you leaned over to the side to see who it was from
your eyes bulged out of your head because one, wow he was handsome, and two, he looked like someone from miyagi
YALL KNOW WHO IM TALKING ABOUT BYE-
‘oh wow’
you mumbled absentmindedly and samu looked at you at the corner of his eye before scoffing
your face was totally bright red and your eyes were super wide
kita? really? of all guys? it was kita?
‘SORRY! was samu who took so long!’
atsumu lowered his voice down but he didnt tell the captain of his brother’s plans to skip
‘he has a stomachache and he was at the nurse’s office’
suna smoothly came up with a lie and he might look cool and calm, his hands were clasped behind him with it clenching his phone
your eyes left kita to notice that habit and you had a small smile because it was another reassurance that these boys werent as high and legendary as everyone made them to be
in the end they were still just students and boys
they were still human
‘oi, osamu, who’s the girl?’
aran finally bit the bullet and asked the question everyone has been wondering since the beginning
both you and samu stiffened at the direct question to you but he nodded
‘this is l/n y/n’
he introduced and you raised a shaky hand as a greeting but let go of samu to bow slightly to your seniors
‘hello, my name is l/n y/n, i’m a first year’
a few players also raised a hand but it was mimi who spoke at last
‘nice to meet you’
kita nodded at you but turned to the three
‘why is she with you? are you skipping again, osamu?’
again?
osamu inwardly cringed
obviously, kita was sharper than they would think because he easily saw through suna’s lie
he also knew that samu never really got sick
he watched the younger shovel 5 bowls of ramen and still have enough room eat a plate of mochi and he was perfectly fine
it was silent between the four of you and atsumu and suna were looking at each other as they ran out of lies
dang they even planned the entire walk of what to say to kita
you looked between the twins and their friend before speaking up
‘samu-senpai really did have a stomachache. i was-uh-helping the nurse! um, i want to be a doctor or a nurse when i grow up! and-’
you started to ramble but because you were trying to lie and it was never your forte
ALKESDJFLKD Y/N I NEED TO TAKE YOU UNDER MY WING WE NEED TO TEACH YOU THIS IMPORTANT LIFE SKILL OMG
‘we were tryin to convince y/n to be a manager. thats why we took so long’
atsumu huffed
you froze
a what?
a manager?
you were genuinely truthful about wanting to go into a medical profession but not a manager
you were already a manager before and you didnt really want to do it again
kita was inspecting suna’s and atsumu’s and osamu’s faces to see a trace of dishonesty
you saw him raise a dark eyebrow and you knew then that these three cannot tell a lie to save their life
so you nodded frantically making kita look at you
‘mhm! they asked me! miya-san wanted someone they knew already so they asked me because i’m samu-senpai’s friend! so here i am!’
your awkward smile and stiff outstretched arms might’ve seem suspicious but kita moved his gaze from you to atsumu and the blonde nodded
‘yea! ya’ve been talkin bout bein worried of next year cus yall aint here no more so i got sum person responsible enough fer us!’
STOPP I HATE IT HERE I CANT SEEM TO WRITE OUT ATSUMU’S ACCENT LIKE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
after the longest 3 seconds, kita finally nodded and closed his eyes warily
‘alright. l/n-san, come here’
you froze at the way he said your name but suna was kind enough to walk over to your place beside samu to gently push you forward to kita
‘its okay’
he mumbled and you were so thankful because that gave you enough motivation and strength to keep going
your height was staggering between these men and kita seemed to tower you
but you kept an even and calm face
‘yes?’
you asked
kita looked at you and he stared at your face, pupils moving as a sign that he was inspecting your eyes and every feature
oh my god you shouldve plucked your nose hairs this morning
before you could feel more self-conscious, he spoke
‘you said you want to be a doctor?’
‘well, more like a nurse but um same thing’
‘you know medical stuff? know how to treat injuries?’
‘yes. i was a manager back in my hometown so i have experience’
‘where are you from?’
‘miyagi’
‘ya familiar with shiratorizawa?’
you cringed but nodded
‘yes’
‘are you from there?’
‘yes’
the three stooges from behind you had wide eyes at this sudden revelation because that was a school theyve played before
even the last interhigh, they were familiar of how strong that school was
the eagle and the guess monster
and you were their manager before?
must’ve been during middle school as you were just a first year
‘so you know how plays and stats work?’
‘yes. anything you want me to do, im familiar and capable to do it’
god why are you saying this
you didnt even want to be a manager in the first place
yet here you are again
you were getting flashbacks from the war ajkfdfd
kita looked at you silently once more before finally standing up straight and pointing you to their coach who was watching the whole thing with crossed arms and furrowed brows
‘there. talk to him and you can finalize everything. i think its too early to say this but nonetheless, welcome to the team, y/n’
AND THUS STARTED YOUR JOURNEY WITH THE BOYS
akldjklfjsdlakj
IT WAS ALL BUILT ON LIES BUT WHATEVER
AS LONG AS NO ONE DIED ISSOKAY
no but really dont tell lies in general yall, maybe white lies, but try not to do that
OKAY MOVING ON
MOMENTS WITH THE TEAM
duh you are much much closer to samu than the rest of the team so you tended to stick to him more
like you would go to him first if you needed something or if you wanted someone to help you with the crate, he would be your go-to
that would make atsumu whine because he felt that samu was better than him
‘oi, y/n! im really good with ma arms! i can bench 300 yanno?’
you politely smiled and nodded
‘thank you for telling me, miya-san’
then you would proceed to nudge samu’s arm yum to ask for help
butbutbutbut
dont worry!!!!
you do end up warming up to him
for my atsumu stans, yall tend to go to him when samu is either busy or you just need a good laugh
this mans will embarrass himself both on purpose or accidentally to make you laugh lmao
you also have extra bottles for his medicine because he has adhd and the guys are like,,,, yo chill
and duh atsumu would forget to take them so youre practically his reminder
we all know how tsumu was practically attacked that one time when he insulted those girls, right?
yall may have forgiven but i will never forget >:(
well, during matches, you as their manager, always have to tell the stands to be quiet when atsumu is serving
but no one told you this
you kind of figured it out during your time like when his eye would twitch if samu was talking to suna too loudly or when he would close his eyes to shut off his hearing because of the loud spikes on the other side
you noticed it
so you would go to the stands and nicely tell them that if they see atsumu serving, to be quiet
‘i understand you are all excited when he does his serve but we would all benefit more you could release that excitement inside and silently’
*cue atsumu pretending to faint in sunas arms*
OH SPEAKING OF SUNA
YES I SAID THAT I DONT REALLY LIKE FANON SUNA BC,,,
WEED
AND DRUGS
AND RUDE
JUST OVERALL
NOT RECOMMENDED
but canon suna :”)
as a player, suna is seen as really manipulative and snarky and witty
he loves to poke fun at the other team, even his own, and just all-around annoying
but off-court
suna is a very quiet and reserved person
totally different from the one who talks and yaps constantly to the other side of the net
and hes a really pure person in some topics
like he would turn red when you would compliment his new picture that he posted in inasgram
PLEASE SUNA IS TOTALLY A PHOTOGRAPHER LIKE HE TAKES PICTURES OF SUNSETS AND STUFF
or when you would offer to bandage him up for him because it’s hard to do it himself and your hand would touch his
dont tell anyone this but suna is very relieved that you and samu weren’t dating
thats all
thats all for now
;)
OOOO kita!!!
okay so kita is the captain, right?
but he doesnt play
like he plays rarely and aran is usually the on-court captain
this causes you and him to be at the sidelines a lot
he would tell you what he thinks would happen next or what the next plan should be and you would provide your own input
in a way, he was the one who really taught you the mechanics of volleyball and he would tell you the different tricks that techniques that the twins came up with
what makes you really soft and fall for him is when he starts to compliment his players
his pride in aran for being one of the top aces that has led them to nationals
his pride in mimi for being able to go on the longest on court and not be tired
his pride on akagi for being able to receive each ball and successfully give it to their setter
his pride on hitoshi for being the one who could handle the team personality wise and his plans for him to be his successor
his pride on ATSUmu for being the best setter he’s ever seen and his drive to get better no matter what
his pride on samu for being so strong and still getting stronger despite his dream career to be something not volleyball-related
his pride on sunA being motivated enough to help the team and make sure everyone knows that every ball can be stopped
like pls you almost cry all the time when you hear kita saying that because he seems to not say it to the others but only to you
it makes you happy that kita relies so much on these guys as much as they rely on him
OH MY GOSH OMIMI
okay
so omimi ren is a very quiet and calm character
hes kinda like suna where they dont really say much but when they do, its usually important and not irrelevant like atsumu
and he didnt say much when you got inducted in the team as a manager
like he just stared at you and you were just like o.o
ngl he did scare you a bit bc of his tall height looming over you and the way his dark eyes just pierces you through your soul
hes the type that you cannot willingly tell a lie to him bc you know he will find out one way or another
he can see right through you
maybe thats what makes him such a good middle blocker
but you started to warm up to him really quick and he would sometimes walk you home if the others cant mainly bc he knows his appearance will make anyone back off
its the simple things that make you appreciate him
two words: ginjima hitoshi
he is so two-faced
NO LISTEN BEFORE YALL BEAT ME UP JUST HEAR ME OUT
you know how like the 4 second years (PLEASE I KNOW THERES A GUY NAMED YUTO BUT LIKE I DONT KNOW MUCH ABOUT HIM AAAAAA TELL ME IF YOU WANT HIM IN HERE)
like suna, the twins, and hitoshi
the twins are the annoying ones who causes trouble, suna is the one taking pictures and evidence while cheering them on, and hitoshi is the one trying to break it up
BUT
i think that hitoshi is really the worst out of the 4 and he keeps in because who else would be the responsible one of the bunch
hello? they were about to be third years next year like are we really gonna go on with possibly a miya twin or suna being captain?
no
so he tries to force down his inner chaos to take on the role of the responsible one
BUTTTTT
you try to release that inner chaos
you sometimes hear him egging on atsumu under his breath like ‘do it’ but quietly so no one hears him
and youre like
?-?
please? we’re not? supposed? to allow? atsumu? to eat? and swallow? a whole? raw egg?
at first, duh he was also like that with you but you want him to be himself and be comfortable with you so you work hard to make him open up
now
you kinda regret it
because he now wants to go through the mcdonalds drive-thru, with no car, just to get mcflurries
you stared down at hitoshi from your bedroom window with a confused expression
‘but? you dont have a car?’
he grins up at you
‘but i got a CART! they said as long as it’s a car and car is in the word cart and the extra ‘t’ is just a bonus!’
‘hitoshi no-’
AAAAAA MICHIMICHI BABY
so akagi is the libero of the team and he is the one responsible for the make sure the ball doesnt touch the ground type of thing
you get really worried about him bc he does a lot of flying saves and his knees always get roughed up and such
so you try and stitch him up as much as you can like you even send him sites for good warm packs to buy
something that isnt known about akagi is that he, like atsumu, really likes to cook
but more like
he bakes
he bakes as a stress reliever and its like his meditation time
you go over to his house a lot to go bake something w him and share it to the guys later on
during ina get-togethers, him and samu are in charged of the food while youre the sous chef
SPEAKING OF SAMU
we forgot about him for a sec aldfjklkfdjlk
it was all thanks to him
because of him, you became a manager despite your initial refusal to become one again
you made friends with more people and you were able to have a fun high school life because of it
because of him
osamu does get a little sad or irritated whenever the guys start to hog you up
like he has to push down the tantrum of ‘I SAW HER FIRST!’
he wants to be the better twin lmao
he gets really butthurt when you would go to someone else even during the middle of your conversation
like he would be talking to you on the side but suna calls you over for tape and youre going
he pouts and atsumu teases him about it causing him to bark at him
LOL HE BARKS
okay so training camp
i think therell be an imagine for this so ill try to not make it as detailed
lets just say its a mess
suna really wants to go hiking bc he wants to go the top of the mountain for pictures of the stars and stuff
but atsumu whines of the bugs and possible creatures in there
this causes osamu to tease him and call him a coward and a wimp
and leads to a fight which aran tries to break up but gets sucked in anyways
and omimi just stands by and watches but he intends to intervene if it gets too much
then akagi gets taken by suna to go the hike with him even though hes scared of bugs so hes whimpering and complaining
while kita and hitoshi are off in the kitchen talking about new grains of flour and stuff
where are you?
youre at the lodge, drinking your f/d (favorite drink) and watching all this go down bc at training camp, it’s every man for themselves
there is a lot of bonding times as a team bc these boys may seem like all they think about is volleyball but they like to do something else outside of that
what they love the most is going to the beach
not only do they get to have fun, they get to relax and see you in a swimsuit alkfdjkfj
especially when kita accidentally falls asleep? they bury him with sand and make him look like a mermaid
because they are players who work out so great bodies duh
and they get so much attention for that
but they all mainly pay attention to you and oh my
youve expressed not being comfortable in wearing a swim suit and watch these guys absolutely start throwing compliments at you
but the third years would softly tell you that it’s okay not to wear one bc all that matters is if youre comfortable or not
HELP I WANT AN ARAN AAAAAAAAAAA
OH SO
we know how kita’s family are rice farmers, right?
well
he farms to help his granny and sometimes, youre the only one who’s free enough to go and help him
so you go over there all the time and granny really loves you bc one, you take care of her shin and thats beyond everything, and two, youre reliable and make shin laugh and such
like one time, you were carrying a basket to the back deck and granny saw you from the kitchen
she smiled before waddling over to the door so she could talk to you
‘y/n-chan!’
you whipped around quickly at the call of your name before grinning and hurrying up to her
‘yes, granny?’
she gave you a bottled water then gestured down to the field where shin was tirelessly tending to the rice
‘please give that to shinsuke. poor boy has been pushing himself too hard with the field and his sport and not taking care of himself’
she chided but there was a certain hint in her tone that made her sound so proud of her grandson
you looked down at the bottle and squeezed it
‘kita-san works hard not for himself, but for everyone else. it makes me sad when he neglects his health and tends to the team instead. so dont worry, baa-chan! i’ll take care of kita-san for him! for you!’
nah bc granny was already gossiping with her neighborhood ladies about this beautiful girl that shin got and how they should be jealous their grandsons don’t have someone like you
OOOOOOO
since your family owns a cafe, the guys goes there all the time
its kinda like the ramen shop for the seijoh boys
they go there mainly to see you even outside of practice ANDDD
they wanna look good in front of your family
like tsumu suddenly knows cleanliness bc he cleans up the mess on the table or kita is no longer an introvert as hes now talking to your mom about the benefits of rice water and her not needing one bc her hair is already beautiful
PLEASE WHAT
and even during the summer, theyve helped out a lot when it was busy lunch times and you couldnt handle it yourself
GOSH IMAGINE SAMU BEING YOUR MOM’S APPRENTICE AND HANDSOME BOYS TAKING YOUR ORDERS WHILE SOME ARE CARRYING HEAVY TRAYS THAT MAKE THEIR ARMS POP
okay imma stop now
OH DONT GET ME STARTED DURING THE DEFEAT WITH KARASUNO
I DONT CARE YALL CAN HATE ME FOR SAYING THIS BUT KARASUNO SHOULDNT HAVE WON LIKE INARIZAKI WERE LITERALLY THE SECOND PLACE IN NATIONALS AND COMPETED AGAINST I T A C H I Y A M A
LIKE WHAT
OKAY ANYWAYS
everyone was already down and moody bc of the loss
and you wanted to be at the back bc you didnt know how to handle the situation
in your time as their manager, not once have you seen them lose
during those 10 months of being a manager, you have not once seen them be defeated during a game even with practice matches
then with those nobodies?
karasuno?
last time you checked, karasuno went down under when coach ukai retired
so having them lose was a real shock
and a really bad event
there was a certain air around you all during the bus ride to the hotel which made the entire time very uncomfortable
everyone finished their crying either in the locker rooms or the bathroom so all that was left was their red eyes
the coach sent everyone off to bed and although they were allowed more days to stay, they all collectively chose to just go home and keep those excused days as a rest day
‘we all would like to just stay at home and recharge’
kita’s request was everyone else’s, even yours, as you were both worried and tired for the boys
so that night, the coaches were able to book train tickets for everyone the next day back home
you stayed up, watching tv in your own room out of boredom because the group chat was quiet and you were too tired to do anything else
the next day, everyone
osamu claimed your shoulder and he held your hand tight with his
his breathing was ragged and even with his closed eyes, the redness around them made it obvious he had been crying
the bus that was filled with excitement before, became quiet and the sound of the engine and wheels took over the silence
you thought samu had fallen asleep so you raised your free hand to stroke his hair
‘hey y/n?’
you flinched at the surprise but hummed
‘imma tell him today. later, but today’
his voice was low and he was murmuring to hint that this was the extra sensitive topic you both discussed a few days ago at the cafe
you nodded but made sure he knew that no matter, he still got you
the coaches were upset and mad at the loss
but in the end, they all realized that this was the last game the boys would play as a team
sure, they could have practice matches and they could play again together in the future but nothing would change the atmosphere and feeling of playing the important matches
this was the team that brought them closest to nationals with placing second out of the entire country
they were a good team that somehow got defeated
but the coaches were still proud
they didnt even yell at the boys to take laps and instead brought them into a team meeting
you stood beside the coaches, your own sniffles with everyone else, and listened to them talk
‘-year has been the most productive this school’s team has had in decades. i hope you all are proud of yourselves as we are proud of you. you lost so you are no longer in the competition and we talk about it tomorrow. but for now, go home and take a rest because tomorrow, we will be running laps and drills and miss y/n will be timing you until you pass out from exhaustion’
you blankly looked at the coaches bc you thought this would be a heartwarming talk but quickly turned into a threat
‘but thats for tomorrow. so go home and rest up. expect what is to come’
you were just wanting to leave lmao
like you wanted to hurry home and make something for the guys to eat tomorrow
just do something to make them at least smile
the guys were quietly packing up and you watched them with trembling eyes at their dismissal
you wanted them to stay longer
stay here and laugh and mess around
like tsumu poking kita and pretending he didnt
or mimi talking about something and aran staring blankly at him but he’s really sleeping with his eyes open and startling him awake
‘guys!’
you shouted
they all stopped and turned to look at you
‘hm?’
hitoshi asked
you hurriedly looked around to find something to stall them here and you noticed the cherry blossom tree that’s blooming
must be the time of the year
‘l-lets! have a-take a picture! outside! by the tree!’
you pointed and they looked at each other
you were acting strangely
but they were simps for you so they just nodded and went outside
they didnt even complain and went to stand out in front of the tree
you had your phone and pulled it to the camera app to raise it to get the team in the frame
they looked sad and tired and worn out but they were still trying to joke around and have natural smiles
‘closer, you guys! bunch in closer!’
you motioned with one hand but they stopped
‘um? y/n? aren’t you gonna join us?’
ren asked but you shook your head
‘its? for you guys? besides, no one will take it for us, silly’
the boys insisted on you prop it up on a bench over there because they wanted you there with them
‘hey, come here! lets all be in it!’
aran shouted and you had no choice but to follow them
the boys had to stand closer to the camera as the bench was a ways ahead of the tree but dont worry, the tree is still there
they wanted you in the front bc they were all taller than you but they really wanted to showcase you
you were their manager and the person who took care of them
they treasure you so much
‘smile!!!’
someone shouted and the timer hit zero and the picture was taken
sure, their school’s motto was that they didnt need things like memories
to not have anything tying you down to the past and to challenge yourself with everyone focusing on the future ahead
in years from now, you could just be another thing from their past and nothing else
but they would be damned if that happened
any fragment of you to remind them of the best time of their youth and the person who loved them more than anyone else did
so yea, sure they wanted to represent their school’s motto
but this time
they can make an exception
a/n: HII!!!! IM BACK AND SUDDENLY IM ABLE TO WRITE AND FINISH THIS I SWEAR I CANT BELIEVE IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO PUBLISH THIS I CANT WITH THIS YALL IM LOWKEY DISAPPOINTED IN MYSELF AND IM ASHAMED IM SO SORRY
#haikyuu#haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu!! imagines#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu!! x reader#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu!! headcanons#inarizaki#inarizaki x reader#inarizaki imagines#inarizaki scenarios#haikyuu manager#haikyuu!! manager#inarizaki manager#inarizaki fluff#manager inarizaki#manager!inarizaki
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Hey dear! I hope that you have a good time! I want to make a request, but please delete it if you don't feel like doing it.
I saved that request in the notes and been waiting for you to open them 😊
For request
First fight with brother (any of your choice) and one of them (I mean MC or that brother) thinks that it's end of relationship (because never had anything serious), but they reconciled in the end. I want some heavy angst with happy ending. MC can be GN if that is OK.
If you don't mind you can do for Mammon, but feel free to choose another one if you don't feel like write for him. Or if that would be better to write as headcanons for all the brothers. That's up to you!
I haven't been doing requests for ages. Please don't hate me if there is something wrong! I've read the rules, and I hope I haven't missed anything.
Anyway, sorry for long ask. And thank you for your writings!
(I forgot to look if you did anything similar, and remembered it at the end of writing that ask. Sorry if you already did something like that!)
Hey babes ❤ I did end up doing HCs for all of them because I thought it would be cooler (or more like I know someone is gonna request separate fics for all of them if I dont and I'm saving myself that trouble lol) I still hope you like it ! ❤ also this got SUPER LONG so its under a cut
Warning: angst -> happy ending-ish
THE BROTHERS in a fight with MC and thinking that they’re over (yikes)
Lucifer:
Everyone always says Lucifer is quick to lose his cool but he’s honestly been nothing but patient with you. He may have hinted at several things he doesn’t condone and he definitely has that ‘look’, you know the disappointed dad look, but he has held back a lot so as to not ruin the beautiful relationship you have with him. Everyone snaps, though, and when he finally did, it was ugly. He did NOT call you names, but oh he didn’t. He went straight for your feelings and pointed out every mistake you ever made for as long as he’s known you. Ouch. In his defense, you weren’t nice either. The argument ended nasty and ‘I hate you’s!’ were definitely thrown around, but none of them were meant, right? Goodness, he doesn’t know. After you left, he threw himself on his bed, literally, and just stared at the ceiling. His anger slowly fled away and he began to feel… guilty. Not necessarily because of the argument itself, but because he delivered some low blows and he knows that. Are you over? Done with him? You haven’t texted or called or talked… you’ve been actively avoiding him and he doesn’t like that, but his pride is such an issue, goodness. He can’t straight up apologize, that dickhead, but he’s sending you flowers and standing in front of your door with a sad face that says it all.
“Forgive me? I made reservations at your favorite’s? We can talk over a nice dinner?”
Mammon:
Mammon is known to get mildly agitated over the silliest things, let’s be real. He’s also quick to revert to the “are you dumb?!” argument, which is never effective. But he loves you and he would do anything for you so even if you do do something that he deems ‘dumb’, he usually bites his tongue. Doesn’t mean that doesn’t get on his nerves, though, and he definitely has a short temper, although people tend to overlook that. You just managed to push his buttons today and he used the “are ya stupid?!” argument, to which you obviously defended yourself, and rightfully so. This ended in a massive screaming match and him saying “Then leave! Ain’t nobody keepin’ ya with me!” He regretted it the minute those words left his mouth and you could see his eyes grow wide in shock at his own words, but that didn’t mean you stayed. “MC!” he tried running after you immediately but you were faster and honestly, who can blame you? He fucked up, and he knows it, and he feels terrible about it. Honestly, he’s crying just at the mere thought of you taking his words seriously and he can’t… he can’t bear to lose you, you know? What’s he gonna do? You’re the light of his life, as pathetic as that may sound to some…. So he won’t let you run away. Homie will hunt you down and beg for forgiveness.
“Please, MC! Forgive me! I’m dumb, not you!!! Don’t leave me…” Don’t leave him. He will continue crying.
Leviathan:
His constant need to put himself down is frankly, quite annoying. To you anyway. But you put up with it and just reassure him that, at least to you, he’s the most amazing demon that ever existed. It’s just facts. But a person only has so much patience, right? You can’t always spend your days trying to lift him up when all he does is dig himself a bigger hole. Who has the emotional time for that? You sure don’t. “Oh my God, Levi! Shut up! I can’t take it anymore!” Followed by “See! You’re just like everyone else! Leaving me!” and then you slamming the door to his room shut. It’s frustrating and understandably so. It makes you feel awful that you can’t even make your own boyfriend feel good about himself and get at least a little bit of self confidence and it’s so, so, so very draining to have to constantly listen to that. At this point, it’s affecting your own mental health and you just… you just can’t…. But Levi can’t lose you because he knows you’re right. He has to work on himself if he wants to keep someone as amazing as you with him and that’s why he’s crawling back to you now.
“Look I… I know you’re right… I’m sorry. I promise I’ll … I’ll try. For you.”
Satan:
For being the Avatar of Wrath, you always admired Satan for his ability to keep cool. He prefers the relaxed and easy going life much more than the type of life people expect him to live, and you respect that. That doesn’t mean his constant need to one up Lucifer, through whatever means necessary, didn’t bother the hell out of you, though. You tried talking to him about it once or twice in a calm manner, but you always got the same answer “Pfft.. it’s Lucifer. Who cares?” And it never sat right with you. Just today he decided to pull a prank on the eldest and you had enough, standing in front of Lucifer and letting the bucket of cursed green slime land on you instead, to everyone’s shock. “What are you doing?!” Now that you’re thoroughly green from head to toe, you were also beyond pissed. “What am I doing?! What are YOU doing?!” But Satan matched your anger tenfold, accusing you of favoring Lucifer over him and oh! “You probably got an affair with him, too!” Which was a stupid thing on his part, but it looked like it the way you defended him. Anger doesn’t even begin to describe the emotion you felt running through you and had it not been for Lucifer, you probably would’ve physically fought Satan for such a dumb accusation. Lucifer took you to get cleaned up and lifted the course, giving you your natural skin and hair color back within a few days and plenty of scrubbing, and Satan felt like shit. You’ve always been there for him and, rationally speaking, he didn’t have a reason to doubt your loyalty to him, but he just can’t help but feel insecure beside Lucifer…. He decides to come apologize anyway, a deep blush on his face and guilt in his eyes
“I’m… sorry for accusing you. It wasn’t my right to speak out of anger and jealousy…”
Asmodeus:
How can anyone fight with the Avatar of Lust? Seriously, the guy is super easy going and he loves pretty much everyone. Not as much as himself, but almost. You on the other hand… you didn’t. Well you didn’t NOT love him or yourself, but you were just… you. You didn’t spend 4+ hours in the bathroom trying to get ready when you knew you were only going to the kitchen down the stairs. Like?? Although you never brought it up to Asmodeus, he constantly bothered you about skincare and what foods to eat and what not to eat, etc… It’s quite annoying, honestly, and at some point you just gave him a passive aggressive “Okay, whatever. Can we move on now?” To which he didn’t take lightly. He was still nice and sweet, trying to convince you that at least one of these things will make your skin glow brighter than a unicorn’s ass but you just had enough. “Can you stop?! You’re indirectly saying I’m ugly without that shit ton of product in my face and a diet that would make me starve before it helped me! If you want a skinny VS angel that barely holds onto their skeleton, get one!” It was more hurt and frustration speaking than anything, but your outburst still shocked him and he was taken aback for a moment. And then you ignored him for a week straight and as someone who thrives off of attention, especially the kind he gets from you, he can’t handle that! So he showed up in your room in sweats and a tshirt and messy hair and no product on his skin.
“You’re right… we’re all naturally beautiful…. Wow that… that really hurts to say MC but can you forgive me?”
Beelzebub:
Oh the sweet, sweet angel. He’s far from innocent and you know that. We all know that. But for this story, I will give him the benefit of the doubt. His reliance on Belphegor is just really… annoying. Belphegor this, Belphegor that. “Belphie used to…” or “Belphie said….” or “one day when Belphie and I….” Like why does everything have to include his twin? It’s so annoying and so rude when your significant other is right here !!! and planning their own future with you, Beel, thanks. It makes you feel less than and like Belphegor will always come before you. It makes you feel like shit, quite frankly, and who is to blame you? “Hey MC did I tell you what Belphie---!” “No! Shut up! I don’t care! It’s always about Belphie! The day you come to me and don’t let that name drip from your tongue is the day Jesus comes back to save me and we both know that will be never! I’m tired of always being stuck with Belphegor! We are not equals!” Granted, you shouldn’t have yelled and Beel was more than confused at your outburst, but you wouldn’t talk to him anymore after that so he left you alone. He thought you may need an hour or two, maybe a day tops, but that day turned into a full week and he even lost his appetite just because he knows you’re angry with him. It’s been a week, does that mean you’re over? His heart aches just at the thought…
“I’m sorry for bringing Belphie up… I don’t want you to feel less than, MC. You mean a lot to me and so does Belphie, but you’re not Belphie and I need to learn that…”
Belphegor:
Honestly it’s a miracle he hasn’t lost his temper at you yet. Well, he partially blames it on his own laziness because if being angry or getting upset didn’t take so much energy out of him, maybe he would’ve snapped by now lol, but he tries really hard not to because he thinks your relationship with him after everything is pretty good, considering yall kiss and snuggle and fuck on a regular basis. But anyway, that’s exactly the issue. Considering everything, you’re still holding *that* against him. It’s never direct either, which makes it worse. It’s always said in a joking manner and something like “haha look it’s just like that one time you killed me” or “Beel’s grabbing that ham like you grabbed my throat” or “I remember seeing jesus for a moment there” and it agitates him. It makes him so angry, and he finally snapped. “I know I fucked up MC! Stop holding it against me! What do you want? A medal of honor? A survivor's certificate? Maybe a pat on the back for developing some sort of Stockholm syndrome that made you come back to your abuser?!” And then he left. And you may have cried both from confusion and your own anger, he isn’t quite sure. It’s just so…. Aggravating. He can’t deal with it. He knows it was a mistake spurted by his own insecurities and survivor’s guilt which ultimately led to his hatred but please, stop holding it against him.. He can’t keep putting up with it from the person he’s grown to love. He’s the one ignoring you and he won’t budge either because he’s a stubborn ass, but maybe if you come up first…
“I’m sorry for yelling at you… I’m just so tired for it being held against me… I love you, and you should know that, and I do feel guilty about what happened.”
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios#cheys headcanons#asmodeus obey me#belphegor obey me#mammon obey me#obey me lucifer#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me beelzebub#tw angst
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no better company than you | nathan mackinnon
a/n: alright, i’m rolling in late for @antoineroussel oussel summer exchange (thank you love, for running such a lovely exchange again, it was wonderful and i’m glad i was able to particiapte) and i’m very sorry for the lateness! i had the pleasure of writing for the lovely @ghstandpucks 💜 again, i am SO sorry about the wait but i hope you enjoy this!
word count: 3.2k
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“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I’m late!” You slide into the booth and throw your bag down next to you, hoping to god you don’t look as frazzled as you feel; this restaurant is far too nice.
Nate just smiles at your words, too familiar with your family by now to know that you’re always running 5-10 minutes behind. He’s ordered a bottle of wine- a nice rosé, fitting for the beautiful end of summer day- and had already started pouring a matching glass for you the second you started sitting down. “How’d the interview go?”
You bite your lip. “Eh.”
“I’m sure it went better than you think.” Nate says encouragingly. “You’re too hard on yourself. All three of you are.”
And well, that’s not a lie. Your siblings were just as critical of themselves as you were. Sid was famously known for it and Taylor, your twin, was as bad as you. But…
“Listen to you!” You laugh at him. Nate’s just as bad as the three of you. A mini-Sid in many ways, to many people in your hometown.
But that was in Canada. This was Denver. And here, Nate was cool. Laid-back. Lowkey. Everything a professional athlete should be. Nobody knew about what a dork he really was, except his teammates.
And now, maybe you too, if all went well with this job interview.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Nate says, looking at his menu to feign ignorance.
You giggle, pulling your own up toward your face. “Sure, buddy.”
It’s not often that you and Nate spend time one on one like this, even if you see him all the time over the summer. He’s usually with your brother when you see him, politely trying to decline your mom’s invites to dinner or already hanging at Sid’s house when you invite yourself over to your brother’s house for pool or lake time. Usually time one on one with Nate like this is brief, usually like in passing while he’s waiting for Sid in the kitchen while you’re eating.
It’s nice. Nate’s funnier than people give him credit for and it’s easy to relax into dinner and conversation, to forget about the anxiety from your interview as you chat about what’s new for both of you and gossip about people you both know.
By the time he drops you off at your hotel, it’s late and you’re too tired (and maybe just on the right side of tipsy) to even worry about the interview. You just barely change into pajamas, run through your nightly routine, and climb into bed, before shutting the lights off. It feels like you’re asleep before your head even hits the pillow.
In the morning, you’re awoken by the sound of your phone ringing, and it takes a second for you to place the sound, but when you do you pounce on it, recognizing the local area code immediately. “Good morning.” You say, trying your hardest not to sound like you woke up literally thirty seconds ago.
It’s human resources, from the job you interviewed for yesterday.
You got it.
-----
“Ew, no!” Your dad holds his hands up innocently, when you rush over to stop him from unpacking a box. “Why would you put that there?”
“Hey, sweetie, maybe it’s time for a break.” Your mom says gently, exchanging a look with your dad, who nods his agreement enthusiastically.
Which is fair. You’d just about almost taken his fingers off just because you didn’t like where he was unpacking colanders.
“Dinner!’” Your dad latches onto immediately. “Nate offered to take us all out tonight, I’ll let him know we’re ready.”
“Ready?” You frown, looking down at your workout shorts and baggy t-shirt.
“We’ll be ready in an hour.” He amends, already texting Nate.
Nate knocks on the door to the new condo you’re renting an hour and fifteen minutes later, sheepishly grinning when your dad tells him that you and your mom still need a few minutes. “Thought I had my timing perfect.”
Your dad snorts. “Oh buddy. Keep dreaming.”
He’s not too off on his timing, but unfortunately for Nate, you don’t have too much else going for you in your condo yet. Your dad had gotten your TV all set up, but in addition to the TV and living room furniture, you haven’t gotten much else, and that includes food and beverages. So the two of them sit in mostly silence while they wait another few minutes for you and your mom to finish getting ready.
“I told you that you should have just met us there.” You tell Nate, as he trips on a box on his way out the door.
“Oh, so this wasn’t deliberate sabotage?” He deadpans.
“You caught me. Just trying to keep you around the city full time until I have time to make better friends.”
Nate laughs, as the two of you follow your parents out the door. “Be nicer to me or I won’t introduce you to my friends.”
“Who said I want to be friends with your friends?”
“Children.” Your mom turns to look back at you and Nate smiles at her innocently, but it’s been a while since that’s fooled her. “Do we need to stay home?”
It serves to get the two of you moving, even as you laugh at her joke. Nate drives you to another one of his favorite restaurants, and dinner flies by, with Nate insisting on picking up the tab, even when your dad tries to fight him on it.
It’s started to cool down a little by the time you’re walking back toward the car, Nate and your dad still fake-fighting about paying for dinner, and you find yourself not realizing you’re smiling at the two of them as you walk behind them until your mom bumps your shoulder. “A few hours off for dinner with some good company was just what you needed.” She says.
And even though the smile on her face seems too knowing, you’re too tired to ask about it right now, so you just nod in agreement. “Yeah, this was nice.” You smile back at her.
-----
Mel Landeskog pokes her head around the corner and you wave at her, trying to catch her attention. “Jesus Christ.” She shakes her head. “I didn’t think he was serious.”
“I mean.” You bite your lip. “I did have to work today.”
“I would have picked you up!” She shakes her head, muttering under her breath, and you know Nate’s going to get an earful from her later. “But no, no. That dumbass just let you come all the way over here by yourself. Sends me a text to come meet you by the door. All casual.”
“I mean.” You send her a look. “Did you expect anything different from Nate?”
It’s the way she looks at you and sets her face that almost has you nervous for Nate. You’ve known Mel for a long time now, but really, you don’t know her from more than just years of NHL events. “I do now.” She says.
You hope Nate knew what he was getting himself into sending Mel a text to come find you earlier.
Once she leads you up into the box with some of the wives and kids, she’s back to smiling and laughing, making introductions all around. The mood all around is light and easy, everyone excited for the home opener of the season, and happy to be back with everyone again.
It’s fun to be back in this atmosphere. Hockey’s been a part of your life for so long and there’s truly nothing like the energy of the first game of the season. You feed off the energy, catching up with some familiar faces and chatting with all the other girls, probably too excited when they invite you to a girl’s night later in the week, but it feels good to have plans that don’t involve trying to invite yourself to Nate’s when you’re bored.
“Hey, good job tonight.” You nudge him afterwards, catching up with him in the family room.
He laughs, pulling you in for a hug. “A little different than what you were used to?”
“It lived up to the hype, I guess.”
“I’ll turn you from a Pens fan.” Nate promises.
It’s your turn to laugh. “Feel Sid’s wrath.”
“What’s he going to do? Check me into the boards? Bring it.”
Nate’s been hanging out with your brother and your family for years now, so he should really know better by now. “Okay, buddy.” You pat his shoulder patronizingly. “Sure.”
“I could take him.” Nate insists.
“Throw hands. Next game. I dare you.”
He side-eyes you, because you both know that’s not going to happen and it’s only a minute before you’re both laughing.
“I better see you on Friday!” Ashley Kadri shouts out to you as she’s walking past with Naz and Naylah, interrupting your laughter. “No excuses!”
“I’ll be there!” You call back. “Promise!”
When you look back, Nate’s pouting-exaggerated, albeit, but pouting. “Are you ditching me this Friday?”
“Yup. Found better company.”
“How dare you?” He cries. “There is no better company.”
“Well.” You shrug. “I’ll know for sure after happy hour on Friday.”
“Find your own ride home.” Nate says and then he starts speed walking away from you at an absurd speed.
“Nate!” You protest, jogging to catch up and he finally slows down enough for you to catch up when you round the corner, bumping your shoulder right back when you purposely bump into him in retaliation.
-----
No one lets loose like a group of moms when they’ve got a night without their kids.
Someone has mentioned this to you before, at a bachelorette party or a wedding or something, but you don’t think you’ve ever seen it really in action before until this happy hour.
“If the waitress comes back, order me another drink!” Kerry calls, before running off to the bathroom.
The waitress nods at her, before addressing the rest of you. “Another round?”
“Oh, please!” Mel nods quickly and repeatedly.
“Can we get a few more orders of mozzarella sticks too, please?” You look down at the empty plates in front of you. “And maybe some nachos too?”
“Yes!” Jackie lights up across from you. “Great call!”
It pretty much only goes downhill from there and by the end of the night, both Mel and Ashley are crying for reasons no one is sure of entirely and you’re pretty grateful to see Nate among the group of husbands and boyfriends to come to pick up all their girlfriends.
So grateful you scream his name the second you see him. “Nate!”
He winces, trying to pull his ear away from you, but he’s laughing. “Guess you had a good time, huh?”
“Uh huh!” You nod enthusiastically, not realizing how loud you are until he winces again.
Nate laughs. “Alright, I think it’s time to go home.”
You gasp loudly. “I can’t leave my new friends!”
“Your new friends are all leaving you!”
You frown, but look around and realize he’s right. Naz has already sneakily pulled Ashley out of the bar and Gabe and Erik were collecting Mel and Jackie’s things. “Oh.”
“Oh?” Nate parrots. “Come on, get your stuff, crazy girl.”
“Hey!” You protest, grabbing your purse. “I am the least crazy person in my family.”
“I hate to break it to you.” Nate says, as he guides you into standing. “But that’s not saying much.”
He’s right, but you bump him with your shoulder anyway as you walk past. That’s about sibling honor and shit.
Nate parked too far away and by the time you reach his car, you’re leaning on him, the adrenaline from hanging out with friends wearing off quickly. Nate’s nice about it, guiding you to his car and then helping you into his front seat before heading around to the driver’s side.
“You guys had a fun time then?” Nate says, once he’s started driving and you’re half asleep leaning against the window. “Looks like it at least.”
“Yeah.” You nod sleepily. “But you were right.”
He chuckles. “About what?”
“There’s no better company than you.”
-----
Nate becomes pretty clingy after that night, texting and facetiming whenever he’s out of town, and stopping by pretty much anytime he’s got a free minute. It quickly becomes something you look forward to, missing his visits when he’s out of town and looking forward to his calls, smiling when his texts come in and breaking up your work day. And it isn’t long before you realize that you’re being just the same. Sending him messages before and after games. Inviting yourself over for dinner and making Nate cheat on his diet.
In a blessed move from the NHL scheduling department, Sid and the rest of the Pens are scheduled to arrive in town on a Friday morning and aren’t leaving until the end of the weekend.
They have a practice scheduled for early afternoon, which is perfect for you to wrap up your work day before heading over to watch the end.
Geno lights up when he sees you watching from the glass, the first person to acknowledge you, and skating over in the middle of the drill, leaving behind two shocked linemates. “Mini!” He shouts cheerfully, even as you roll your eyes at your least favorite nickname. All because you happen to be the shortest of your siblings. “Great to see you.”
“You too, Geno.” You smile warmly at him, a little annoyed that you can’t get a giant bear hug from your favorite pseudo-older brother right away. “But I don’t think a few other people feel the same right now.” You jerk your chin back over his shoulder.
He turns his head quickly but then looks back. “Psh. They’ll get over it.”
You bust out laughing, which is right about when your brother comes over, and in classic Sid fashion, is all about hockey. “Stop being a distraction.”
“I was minding my own business until Geno came over here!” You protest, even as Geno starts laughing and Sid eyes you skeptically.
“Why don’t I believe that one?” Sid says dryly and sure, maybe you were making faces at some of the guys you knew well as they were passing you, but you weren’t actively being a distraction.
“That’s your prerogative.” You tell Sid, who shakes his head and pulls Geno back for the remainder of practice.
Practice doesn’t last for too much longer and you spend a few minutes chatting with the coaching staff while you wait for Sid to change. But he and Geno finally come out of the locker room and you stop mid-sentence to throw yourself at your brother.
Sid’s laughing and so are you, but both of you start laughing even harder when Geno pulls you both into his arms. “Two of my favorite people!”
“Taylor’s going to be so offended.” Kris grins, watching the three of you amused.
“Taylor?” You grin back at him, going for a hug once Geno releases you. “How about his wife and kid?”
“Those are my other favorite people.” Geno reasons.
“Now I’m offended.” Kappy deadpans.
“You’re not even close.” Geno grins, roughing his hair.
Kappy tries to get him right back, but Geno just swats his hand away and then Sid’s shaking his head, like this is just the same shit, different day. “Look what you did.”
You grin, leaning against him. “Not sorry. I’ve missed this entertainment.”
Sid shakes his head. “Then you can round them up for dinner.”
You do. Easily.
Nate had suggested one of the team’s favorite restaurants and you’re happy to see that he’d accepted your invitation to join everyone, even if he rolls in a little late. You’re deep into Kris’ camera roll, looking at pictures of his kids and catching up on stories that you haven’t heard about them recently, so you don’t even notice he’s arrived and said hello already until he blows on the back of your neck.
You jump. “What the hell?”
Nate’s grinning. “Hey.”
You shake your head at him and bump your shoulders against him. “Hey.” You mimic and then turn right back to Kris.
But your shoulder stays leaning on Nate, and it remains there comfortably all night.
-----
Sid’s a little cranky when you first meet him for breakfast the morning after the game and you’re sure it has everything to do with the last minute turnover that cost them the game (and bragging rights over Nate this summer, which is really what he’s probably cranky about).
He gets over it pretty quickly though, and soon the two of you are laughing and talking, catching up about your family and your lives.
“-and I even love my office, the vibes are just great!”
Sid shakes his head. “Vibes.”
You grin. You know he hates that word. “Good vibes.” You confirm.
“So you’re liking Denver?”
“Love it.” You confirm, smiling.
“Meeting good people?”
You eye him skeptically. “Yes dad. I already said my coworkers are great and I’ve been hanging out with Nate and his friends a lot too. It’s good”
“Geno thinks there’s something going on between you and Nate.” Sid says casually.
The jump of your heart is far from casual. “Oh yeah?”
Sid eyes you but his response to that is surprising. “You know if there was something going on between you and Nate that would be okay?” He pauses, watching you again, but your face is completely neutral, purposely not moving. “Right?”
“You know if there was something going on between me and Nate that your opinion wouldn’t matter at all, right?”
He grins, laughing as he nods, but after he takes a bite of pancakes he says, “To you, yeah. To him, it does.”
“Why?” You blurt out, giving yourself away before you can stop yourself.
But Sid doesn’t say anything to that. He grins again and then changes the subject entirely.
-----
You only make it about a day before you’re knocking on Nate’s door, pretty forcefully.
“What’s up?” He swings the door open, with a frown. “You okay?”
“Does what my brother thinks really matter to you that much?” You blurt out. It’s been bothering you ever since Sid mentioned it at breakfast. That you lasted this long was probably a miracle.
Nate blushes and your jaw drops. “It-”
“Oh my god.” You grin delightedly. “Come on, really?”
“That’s not-” He blows out a frustrated sigh. “You’re really going to make me say it?”
You nod, but you’re pretty sure he’s not going to get far into what he’s going to say.
He sighs again. “It’s not about, like, his approval, or shit. It’s just- he’s important to you. So obviously he’s important to me-”
You kiss him.
“You know that you don’t even have to worry about that, right?” At some point, you’d slid one hand to his hip and the other arm around his neck, and the hand there plays with the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I’ll argue about that with you later.” Nate says impatiently and so you’re laughing when he kisses you again.
#nathan mackinnon fanfiction#hockey fanfiction#hockey fanfic#hockey imagines#nhl fanfiction#nhl fanfic#nhl imagines#my hockey fics
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Favourite Brother
A/N: not gonna lie, I am terrified to post this because there is no established community for a bridgerton sister like there is with peaky blinders but into the unknown we go
Y/N Bridgerton is based off my own character who is Daphne’s twin sister (there’s a whole thing in my head as to why her name begins with a C, but i digress) and is, technically, the eldest daughter but is never seen that way.
If she was being completely honest, making her debut into society at the same time as her twin sister was probably one of the worst things Y/N Bridgerton could have done. Ultimately, it was down to her mother to make the decision and no matter how much Y/N - and Eloise - begged for her to postpone her coming out for a year, her mother was insistent (Eloise’s begging had been so that none of the attention next season would be on her).
Y/N knew that her first season out in society wasn’t going to go well. She had Daphne as a sister for heaven’s sake - despite being older than her by a whole five minutes (a fact her oldest brother, Anthony, seemed to keep conveniently forgetting) - Y/N Bridgerton was merely a twinkle compared to the explosion that was her twin sister.
The Queen had offered Y/N a most gracious remark alongside her sister but it felt as if it was merely to balance out the scales - as if she didn’t truly mean it.
But, deep down, she hadn’t wanted to believe that she was merely a cast off. That she was just Daphne’s sister and was nothing more.
Her first ball, however, solidified the feeling she’d had for a while. That she was nothing more than Daphne’s sister in the eyes of the ton. Daphne was the season’s diamond. Y/N was merely a geode waiting to be split open. Unassuming on the outside but magnificent on the inside.
Y/N stared after her brother and Daphne as they wandered around the room, eyeing out appropriate suitors (which, according to Anthony, didn’t exist in that ballroom).
“Dearest,” Violet said, placing a hand on her daughter’s arm, noticing her fury, “shall we go get some lemonade?”
Y/N had a childish urge to grab a cup of lemonade and pour it over her brother’s head but swallowed it down, forcing a pleasant smile to her face. She turned to her mother and nodded.
“Anthony means well -”
“Mother,” Y/N grounded out. She really did not want to talk about her eldest brother.
“He means well,” Violet repeated, handing her daughter a glass of lemonade, “he’s just fiercely protective of you all.”
“Everyone except me, you mean?” Y/N corrected, giving her mother a hard stare. Y/N sighed and slumped against the wall. “I know he does,” she said quietly, almost not wanting to admit it. “But it’s almost as if he doesn’t realise I’m here.”
Violet nodded. “I know. But he wants the best for you - we all do.”
“Yet the best simply are not here in this ballroom tonight, are they?” Y/N countered, giving her mother a raise of the eyebrows. “He and Daphne are walking around the room, eyeing up every suitor in that room and where am I? Hiding at the back by the drinks table like a wallflower.”
Violet put a hand on Y/N’s arm in sympathy for there weren’t many words she could offer her daughter that would be of any comfort. She knew the feeling of being a wallflower all too well.
“Y/N! Why are you skulking back here?”
It was almost as if a light switched on behind Y/N’s eyes at the sound of her brother’s voice. She turned and smiled at Colin as he, and Benedict, approached her, weaving through the ambitious mama’s and their debutantes and studiously avoiding making eye contact with any of them.
“Anthony has eyes for Daff and Daff only,” Y/N replied, standing on her tiptoes to hug Colin and then Benedict. They’d inherited the Bridgerton good looks and the Bridgerton height. Something Y/N and her five foot four height was all too jealous of.
Colin smiled sympathetically at his sister, knowing full well what she meant. He held out his arm to her, ever the gentleman. “Well, shall we go promenade around the room?”
Y/N giggled as she excepted Colin’s arm. She then looked up expectantly at Benedict who gave her the iconic Bridgerton smile (one Y/N had mastered too) and he offered his arm to her too.
The three of them began a deliberately slow walk around the edge of the room.
“You do realise everyone’s looking at you?” Colin whispered, a cheeky grin on his face.
Y/N, for the first time that night, felt all the attention on her. Every suitor watched her as she passed by and all offered a smile.
But, deep down, she knew she was second best. And she refused to settle for that.
“Not that we’d let you pick any of them,” Benedict added quickly. “None of them are suitable.”
Y/N swallowed her urge to groan, counted to five in her head and looked at Benedict. “You sound just like Anthony.”
“Well, someone has to,” Benedict replied giving her a smile that had made many a woman swoon in the past.
She didn’t understand why. Well, Benedict was her brother. Whenever he smiled at her she just remembered the time he’d left a fish in her bed and she’d retaliated by leaving numerous frogs in his room.
The sibling prank war of 1805 had been a dangerous one. Y/N had fallen down the stairs and ended up with a concussion and Benedict had ended up with a long, and loud, lecture from Anthony about the dangers of trip wires near staircases.
“Oh, there’s Anthony and Daphne,” Colin murmured, noticing them on the other side of the room.
“Daff!” Benedict called, all but dragging Y/N over to the,
Y/n, who’s arm was in Benedict’s, didn’t have much choice to follow and neither did Colin as Y/N wasn’t about to let her buffer leave anytime soon.
Anthony looked up at them as they approached but his eyes narrowed slightly when he saw Y/N in the middle of them.
“Have you been looking for suitors?” Anthony asked, his stare narrowing even more when he noticed someone eyeing Y/N over her shoulder.
“Did Mother tell you yet?” Colin asked Daphne, saving Y/N from having to talk to Anthony and conveniently turning the conversation away from her. “I’m to start my tour in Greece.”
“Oh, Greece, that sounds wonderful,” Y/N said, both her and Daphne making a similar remark. Daphne and Y/N glanced at one another and giggled.
Anthony’s eyes widened as he looked up. “On guard!”
It was an instant change. All five of them suddenly had anywhere else to be and they all turned around, fully intent on heading to literally any other corner of the room.
“No escape,” Colin muttered as they heard the formidable Lady Danbury’s cane hit the floor loudly.
“Too late,” Lady Danbury called. “I already noted you.”
Her words were followed by a loud thump of her cane. Startled, Y/N stepped back in Benedict and accidentally stood on his foot. She lost her footing, wobbled, and fell even further back into her brother.
Benedict, to his credit, let out a soft grunt as his sister impacted him, but then managed to right her and stand her back up on her own feet without drawing Lady Danbury’s attention.
“Lady Danbury!” Benedict, Anthony and Colin all greeted at once, all bowing in sync as if they were performing.
Y/N and Daphne curtsied slightly at the older woman.
Lady Danbury’s eyes rested on the two girls. “I’ve yet to see either one of you on the dance floor,” she said, her eyes narrowing even more.
“We’re biding our time,” Anthony cut in.
“We?” Y/N whispered under her breath, sparing Anthony a glare that would’ve turned lesser men to stone.
Apparently Lady Danbury had heard that but, to her credit, said nothing. If anything her usually steely glare softened ever so slightly when she looked at Y/N.
“You poor girls,” Lady Danbury muttered, shaking her head. “I always knew I liked you two for a reason,” she added, eyeing Daphne and Y/N as they both gave Anthony a disdainful, joint glare (one the two girls had hoped she’d missed but, as usual, Lady Danbury never missed anything.) “As for the rest of you.... hmmph.”
And with that, Lady Danbury vanished off to torture some other poor soul.
Benedict stared after her with an offended expression. “Hmmph? Hmmph?” He echoed. “Is that all she could come up with? Hmmph?”
Y/N smiled to herself. “She likes us,” she said, looking at Daphne with a smile.
Daphne smiled back at her sister. “Yes, it would appear she does.”
Benedict grunted. “You can have her.”
Y/N elbowed Benedict in the ribs and her brother let out a rather loud grunt - one that had numerous nearby partygoers look over to wonder what was happening.
“For that, you can dance with me,” Benedict muttered, grabbing Y/N’s hand and all but dragging her away from the safety of Colin and Daphne and onto the dance floor.
“You hate dancing,” Y/N said as she struggled to keep up with her brother. she was suddenly spun onto the dance floor and somehow managed to keep her footing.
Benedict put his arm on her waist and gave her a level stare. “I also hate being paraded around by our Mother,” he said, nodding his head behind him.
Y/N leaned past him and saw Colin being unwillingly paraded around the room by their Mother. Colin, ever the gentleman, was putting a smile on and greeting every single debutante. But he did look up at Benedict and Y/N and give them a very ungentlemanly glare.
Y/N let out a very unladylike snort and laughed. Benedict rolled his eyes.
The music began and the two began dancing around the obnoxious looking floral arrangement in the centre of the floor. Neither one said anything for a moment - focusing on the music and ensuring they were getting the steps right.
“Thank you,” Y/N said quietly.
She’d noticed her mother, Daphne and Anthony leave a few moments earlier and whilst Daphne had given her a sister an apologetic look and her mother had ensured Colin was going to get her home safely, Anthony had marched off without a second glance.
Benedict frowned. He twirled Y/N twice and then resumed the proper position. “Whatever for?”
Y/N smiled up at him and for the first time that night, felt as if she was enjoying herself. “For being my favourite brother and saving the day.”
“I’m your favourite?” Benedict asked, tilting his head to the side in a curious gesture.
Y/N hit his arm. Hard. “Don’t ruin the moment,” she replied as the song ended.
They bowed to one another as the dance ended and then moved off the dance floor. Y/N suddenly wrapped her arms around Benedict’s neck and hugged him tightly.
Benedict, surprised by the sudden show of sibling love, slowly returned the hug with a confused expression.
“Thank you for making this night worth it,” Y/N whispered in his ear.
Benedict hadn’t been oblivious to the way Anthony glossed over his sister. Whilst it was probably unintentional - everyone knew that Anthony Bridgerton would die for his family - he hadn’t missed the hurt look in Y/N’s eyes.
Benedict smiled and ruffled Y/N’s hair as best he could without messing up the intricate updo. “Always, sister.”
Colin, impeccable timing as always, then happened to walk into Y/N, backwards, almost dropped the lemonade he was carrying and ruined the entire moment. Y/N fell forward into Benedict and Benedict fell back a step trying to catch his sister and his brother. Benedict had then slapped Colin on the back of the head.
But according to those around the ballroom, Colin had been clumsy on purpose to try and cheer up his sister. Which had worked.
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Hajime Iwaizumi x F!Reader
❝ enemies, as well as lovers, come to resemble each other over a period of time ❞
description: your feud with hajime iwaizumi only escalated throughout your years at hogwarts; whether it was on the quidditch field or who would be the first to sit down in class, there always seemed to be some sort of raging competition between you two.
genre: hogwarts!au, angst, enemies to lovers, slow burn, rivals, gryffindor quidditch keeper iwaizumi, slytherin quidditch captain f!reader
word count: 5.5k
warnings/notes: swearing, lots of angst, small depictions of violence, mentions of alcohol and drinking, not proof read im so sorry
although i am an avid believer than both iwa and oikawa would be slytherins, i wanted to play with the idea of them being gryffindors, which actually makes sense when you think hard about it hfklhfd anyway! please enjoy!
part of a hogwarts collab !
collab masterlist posted here ! tysm to the wonderful @rintsuru for hosting <3
my general masterlist
You could feel his presence from across the dining hall, immediately dowsing you in a raging hatred that you only reserved for him. His arrogance mocked you as he basically danced into the Great Hall bathed in compliments.
The Gryffindor quidditch team won against Ravenclaw the night before. You didn’t know why he had all of the glory... he wasn’t even the captain. Being keeper had its perks, you guessed.
You rolled your eyes and focused your attention to your food. You tried not to stab the plate as you heard the varying praises to the boy in red and gold. “Congrats, Iwa!” and “That last block was brilliant!” nearly made you want to choke.
Hajime Iwaizumi was simply not someone who deserved such compliments. He was vile, annoying, and did everything in his limited power to poke and prod at every single one of your nerves. You used to ignore your burning hatred that you harbored for him; but late in your second year, you had let it all out.
And, as it turned out, he wasn’t quite fond of you either.
It had been years since then, yet the feelings remained the same. It was just the start of your sixth year and you already wanted to gouge his eyes out with the pointy end of your fork.
Tooru Oikawa caught your gaze and sent you a cheeky smile. You wished that you could hate the captain as much as his keeper, but you only let your hatred for him simmer for so long. He was quite fun when he wasn’t next to the little shit.
“Just wait for next week when you verse Slytherin! You’re sure to win!” a small Gryffindor told them.
“I wouldn’t be too sure.” You said, perhaps a bit too loudly. You lacked volume control, after all.
“What was that, Slytherin?” Iwaizumi turned to you. His gaze was fire on your skin and you wanted nothing but to catch him aflame as well.
“Your arrogance and cockiness proceeds even you.” You said, voice monotone and venomous against the recent silence at your speech. “I wouldn’t be too sure of your success.”
“Say that again after the match.” Iwaizumi turned back to accept another compliment and find a place to sit at his house’s table.
You wondered if you would get expelled if an apple happened to launch out of your hands and land on the back of his head.
Late in your second year, you had enough of Hajime Iwaizumi.
The both of you were in a silent competition the minute you were introduced to each other in your first year. It was never anything serious, just two eleven year olds who liked to be at the top.
It wasn’t until your second year that you started to feel genuine distaste for him. You had buried the thought of “hate” for a long time, masking it to be annoyance and opposition.
The hatred was much deeper than a surface burn.
It was during charms class that you finally snapped.
It was not more than the simple mutter of his breath. It was a mispronunciation of the spell and the tap of his wand against the table that made you lose your control.
“Hajime! Can you please, for the love of Merlin, shut the fuck up!” The harsh language created a tense silence through the classroom. No twelve year old had the balls to curse that hard in front of that many people, including a professor. “If you are going to be an idiot, at least try to hide it.”
Hajime Iwaizumi turned in his seat to face you, irritation and vexation easily overpowering his shock.
“Funny that you’re saying that.” He said.
“You’re so ridiculous.” You rolled your eyes. “Oh, I’m Hajime Iwaizumi and I am a perfect student that can’t even properly pronounce a simple spell! But that doesn’t matter because guess who’s a keeper for the quidditch team when I’m only a second year!! I am perfect!! Literally no one likes you.”
“Trust me, no one likes you either.”
No one meaning, and translating to, I don’t.
Just to show off, you easily cast the charm that he had failed. Charms was your strong subject, so you only needed to say the spell and flick your wand before turning your attention back to him.
He was nearly smoking from his ears, he was both embarrassed and livid.
You waved to Kei Tsukishima as you caught his gaze from the side of the hall. He was a fellow Slytherin and a good friend, though neither of you would admit that to each other.
He nodded as his greeting. He shoved his book back into his bag as you made your way to his side.
“Hey, Tsukki.” You said. “I wasn’t expecting to see you until practice tomorrow.”
“Yeah, I’m waiting for Yamaguchi.” He turned his body to lean against the wall. “We’re going to Hogsmeade today.”
“No invitation?”
He sighed. “Would you like to join us, Captain?”
“I was joking, no need to sound so enthusiastic.” You chuckled. As you started to speak again, Tadashi Yamaguchi left the classroom the two of you stood outside of. He smiled at you, his green and white reflecting off of his eyes.
“Captain!” Yamaguchi greeted, putting an arm around your shoulder. “Are you coming to Hogsmeade with us?”
“Be careful, the idiots are coming.” Tsukishima interrupted and warned, motioning over your shoulder.
You turned around to find Oikawa and Iwaizumi walking next to each other, laughing about something only the two of them knew. You had to hold back from making a comment.
“Yoohoo!” Tooru Oikawa caught your eye. You sighed and turned back to your fellow Slytherins, sharing a look.
“Hello, Tooru.” You felt him beside you before you looked.
You purposely didn’t look at Iwaizumi.
“We’re celebrating our win tonight, you guys should join!” Oikawa invited. You heard Iwaizumi’s exhale of frustration, but you only rolled your eyes in an attempt to ignore his presence.
“You want a group of Slytherins hanging out with you, celebrating your win, when we go against you in less than a week?” Tsukishima spoke up. He moved off of the wall. “No thanks. Come, Yamaguchi. Let’s go.”
Yamaguchi waved goodbye and followed his best friend down the hall. You pivoted to fully face the two Gryffindors.
“I’ll come.” You said, mainly out of spite.
Tooru Oikawa was naturally outgoing. He was the captain of the Gryffindor quidditch team, a flirt, and all together a pretty chill person. You didn’t mind calling him a friend, despite the vast differences between you two.
One vast difference being his best friend.
Which is why you found yourself next to him as soon as you entered the Gryffindor party. The cascades of burgundy and gold created a deep atmosphere in the hidden room, lights dancing along the dark walls and the smell of various alcohols filled the air. It was a Gryffindor party, that much was true.
You were one of the very few Slytherins that occupied the room. Your eyes caught sight of only a couple, most of them much younger than you and just happy to be at one of their first few parties.
“Oi, a snake has crawled into the winner’s common room.” Oikawa joked as he handed you a can. You accepted.
“A snake in a lion’s den, I wonder who will win.” You quipped.
“The lion, for sure.”
“I wouldn’t be too sure. Snakes can eat things 100 percent their size.” You raised a brow and opened your can.
“Hm,” Oikawa looked over his shoulder and called out for someone you didn’t see. “Hey! Who do you think would win, a lion or a snake?”
“A lion obviously.” It was Hajime Iwaizumi.
You let out a groan, immediately losing your sense of humor. “Ah, you’ll see in less than a week.”
“I don’t think I will.” Iwaizumi said, stoic and annoyed. “This win was only one of few.”
“I suggest you just celebrate this win.” You took a sip. “Because I don’t think the losing team would like to come to the winner’s party.”
“That just means I will not be seeing you, which is a grand idea.”
It was the time of year just before winter, where the air starts to cool but the sun still warms your skin. You took a breath and held your broom at your side.
It was near minutes before the anticipated game against Gryffindor, and you could hear the crowds already. The rivalry between your houses was something that everyone enjoyed; the rivalry between you and their keeper was all you.
“Alright team.” You pivoted to the team behind you. “We’re playing Serpent first; and if we don’t get any points within the first two minutes, I’ll hold up the signal for Green. Got it?”
“Got it.”
You had a pretty well-rounded team in your honest opinion. Tsukishima was perfect as your keeper, he was never one to let anything get past him. Your chasers included you, Yamaguchi, and another girl named Yui Michimiya. You had the Miya twins for beaters. And, rather recently, you gained a new seeker named Tobio Kageyama. The same age as your keeper, but only wanted to join quidditch out of hate for the Gryffindor seeker (and who were you to deny that?).
The Gryffindor team was not one to mess with, they had a nice team too. Iwaizumi as the keeper, the Idiots Nishinoya and Tanaka as beaters, their new seeker Shoyo Hinata... but the problem was their chasers: Oikawa, Kiyoko Shimizu, and Wakatoshi Ushijima. They were so quick on their brooms, it was like working against wind.
Today was no day to lose.
“It’s our first official match of the year.” You encouraged. “Let’s show them who not to mess with.”
“Let’s absolutely destroy them.” Atsumu added.
You grinned.
As you headed towards the field, you could feel the adrenaline creeping into your bones. Quidditch had become routine, simple muscle memory as you moved to your starting positions.
The Gryffindor team appeared, and you felt the excitement enter you in a rush of air.
In the air, Hajime Iwaizumi felt at peace. He was very good at what he did, and he knew that, and the game was something he was passionate about.
He was also passionate about beating you.
You were the bane of his existence. You had never once sent him anything other than something bitter or sarcastic. You were an annoying pest that he simply couldn’t get rid of.
And as you threw the Quaffle into the goal just above his head, Iwaizumi felt his eye twitch.
Slytherin won, Tobio Kageyama’s hand high with the Snitch inside.
You watched in triumph as the teams descended on the brooms. From the skies down, you cheered.
“Congrats, Slytherin.” Oikawa said, though his tone was bitter and sour.
You knew that he hated losing, so you didn’t push it. He was a friend, after all. Sending him just a small “I’m sorry you didn’t win” smile, you headed to your team. You gathered them into a hug, or rather-- a huddle, and ruffled the hair on Kageyama’s head.
You peeked over your shoulder to catch sight of Iwaizumi. He was standing, hands at his sides, red face and eyes blank of any expression other than anger.
You smirked at him.
Hajime Iwaizumi was on the other side of the victory this time, silently brooding as he picked at his food in the Great Hall. The Gryffindor table emitted zero volume.
He was pissed off the second you entered the hall, Kei Tsukishima and Tadashi Yamaguchi walking beside you. The green and white seemed to glow, mocking him in the worst way imaginable.
Oikawa tried to bring his attention back to the food, but Iwaizumi was focused primarily on you. You were gloating, relishing in his loss, taking delight in the compliments from your house. A Hufflepuff appeared at your side, and you smiled as you thanked them for their congratulations.
He felt sick.
You could not help but drown yourself in the triumph. You walked on air, the feeling of superiority tickling every inch of skin it could touch.
You waved goodbye to a couple of friends, heading directly to the Gryffindor table. You placed your hands on Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s shoulders, leaning to place your head right between theirs.
“I suppose the snake beats the lion.” You sent a wink to Iwaizumi, knowing full well how it would provoke him.
“Fuck off.” Iwaizumi shoved your hand off of his shoulder.
“Go receive your praise at the Slytherin table.” Oikawa shooed, fork in hand. “You won’t find it here.”
“Sore losers.” You mocked just for fun. You stood straight. “I imagine that I would be the same, given it were the other way.”
You basically skipped back to your table for breakfast.
You were absolutely elated for the rest of the day. It was quite similar to being on cloud 9, winning your first game of the year against your rivals. The look on Hajime Iwaizumi’s face only added to the feeling.
You were walking down the hall, talking to a fellow Slytherin girl who had her arm wrapped in yours. She was going on and on about how she wished she could have imprinted Kageyama’s snitch catch to her memory.
That was when your shoulder collided directly into a firm body.
Your arm was ripped away from your classmates, along with your bag that fell onto the hard ground with a loud thud and wisp of parchment and ink. Everything in your bag now scattered the ground, covered in the dark ink and dirt.
Your mood was too high to get too angry. It was an accident; you would bite your tongue and clean up the mess.
Until you realized just who’s shoulder you ran into: Hajime Iwaizumi. Your greatest enemy and now destruction of your contents.
“Watch where you’re going next time, Hajime.” You grunted, kneeling to save some of your parchment before the ink could reach it.
“Perhaps if you had your head out of your ass, you wouldn’t have run into me.” Iwaizumi responded. He had turned to face you midway through your fall.
“As if you didn’t feel this way a week ago.” You told him, standing up. Nearly everything that was in your bag was soaked, including the bag itself. You inhaled deeply. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Now, why would I run my shoulder into you on purpose hoping to ruin your mood?” He asked. “You must be very arrogant to think that everything must be about you.”
You clenched your jaw and closed your eyes. “I will not let a piece of shit such as yourself bring my mood down today. Today is a good day.”
You knelt once again to find your essay that you had written for Snape, searching your documents. Only to find it one of the few that were directly under the ink, completely doused in black.
“Actually, fuck you.” You lifted the paper. Ink dripped off and onto the ground. “Do you know how long I worked on this?”
“I don’t know, a couple of minutes?” Iwaizumi shrugged. “You aren’t exactly the best at your schoolwork.”
“You wish you knew me well, but you don’t at all.” You felt anger boil in your chest. “I worked very hard on this essay. Days, even. And you destroyed it in less than five seconds..”
“There’s the Slytherin in you.” He let out a humorless laugh. “You think everything has to be about you, and if it doesn’t than someone is out to get you. Your ego is so fucking enormous that you can’t even muster the idea that maybe something isn’t about you. You didn’t even win, Tobio won the game for you. God, why don’t you go make a friend instead of standing here arguing with me about an accident?”
And then, “You really are a raging bitch, aren’t you?”
The girl that you were talking to had wide eyes, and you were sure that she was ready to fight. A couple of bystanders that were once just listeners started to mumble. And you.... you couldn’t fathom words.
Your feud with him had grown deep, but it had never gone as far as that. In front of a crowd, no less.
It was one thing to make comments, to be bitter and roll your eyes at each other’s presence. It was one thing to bicker, to fight, to joke to friends about the other’s incompetence and purposely pull on each other’s strings.
It was something else completely to call you a bitch in front of everyone in the middle of a hallway after a thread of insults.
You fake smiled, feeling unwanted tears threaten their way to your eyes. You would not allow yourself the angry tears; they would only make you angrier.
“You’re more than just an asshole, Hajime Iwaizumi.” You told him. Because you truly didn’t have any words.
“Calling a woman a bitch is the worst insult. Those are fighting words.” Oikawa’s older sister used to say. “It’s comparable to calling a man a pussy.”
Hajime Iwaizumi didn’t think much while he spoke. He just said the things as they came, especially when he didn’t really care much about what you thought of him.
But, calling you a bitch... that felt as if it were crossing a line that he didn’t have the authority to cross. And the look on your face after he said it was one that he had never witnessed on you.
At practice, his head still held the image of you.
He was confused. Why did he regret calling you a name? It wasn’t as if the two of you don’t argue in front of people all of the time. In fact, it was nearly a common occurrence.
For some ungodly reason, he felt a tug at his chest.
“Maybe you should apologize?” Oikawa suggested.
“Why would I apologize to her?”
“Because I think you went a little bit too far.” He told his best friend as truthfully as possible. “Because as much as I think the rivalry between you two is fun, she’s still just a girl. And because my sister said you should.”
“You wrote your sister?”
“Yeah, of course I did.”
For several days, Hajime Iwaizumi hadn’t seen you. You didn’t eat in the Great Hall, you didn’t come to the classes he had with you, you didn’t go to Hogsmeade like you usually did on weekends.
So, he came to your practice.
He was hoping to apologize. It was something he had never done to you before, and he had practiced it quite a few times. Just a small, “I’m sorry for calling you a bitch in front of everyone.”
Yes. That should be fine and the two of you could go back to the regularly scheduled loathing.
But the second he stepped onto the field, the two beaters stood in front of him.
“I wouldn’t.” Atsumu said, holding his broom. “She’s been in a mood.”
“I know, I’m the reason for that.” Iwaizumi said. “I just want to talk to her. Just a second.”
“I wouldn’t.” Osamu repeated. “Whatever you have to say, it’s gonna have to wait.”
Iwaizumi nodded, looking at the twins. He was going to ask them to tell you that he had been there, ask them to ask you to meet him somewhere or something so he can get the stupid apology off of his chest, when you appeared behind them.
“Get off of my field, Hajime Iwaizumi.” You said. You had been at practice for the past two hours (according to the sign ups), yet your voice was even and you hadn’t even broken a sweat. In fact, your voice spit toxin in his direction.
“I just wanted to...”
You had taken off before he could even say his second word. The twins followed right after.
Tooru Oikawa took a place beside you. It would have been normal, if it were not for your avid avoidance of anyone with a Gryffindor robe on.
“Hello, Tooru.” You said without sparing him a glance.
The thing was, you weren’t angry with him. You didn’t hate Oikawa, you hated his closest friend. And by association, you didn’t want to talk to him just as much. Oikawa had always been the middle ground between the doom and gloom that was the dark haired man you hated.
“I think you should talk to Iwa.” Oikawa said. Plain and simple, to the point.
“I think you should mind your business.” You retorted. “I never talked to him to begin with, what’s different now?”
“Because now is different.” He grabbed his book as the professor walked in. “Now, you won’t even say your smart ass remarks or tell him how fucked up his hair looks. Now is just... boring and sad.”
“So you want me to talk to the guy I hate in order for you to not be bored?” You scoffed and collected your things. “Truly, you are his best friend.”
You left just as the professor started talking, receiving a few stares in the process. It wasn’t as if you weren’t used to that.
You were walking with Tsukishima, laughing at your attempts to get him to smile. Your team had really taken your mind and restored your confidence. You figured, as long as you didn’t see the man you hate then he simply didn’t exist. It was that easy.
Until you accidentally caught his eye across the street.
It had been snowing, so most of the students were in their winter gear and warm clothes. You yourself had a hat and scarf on, gloves to cover your hands despite the hot to-go mug of cocoa in them.
Hogsmeade was quite busy with everyone getting last minute holiday gifts and hurrying to hang out before break. Yet, somehow, your eyes found the brown of Iwaizumi’s.
You turned around, forcing Tsukishima to follow. The younger boy didn’t even have to ask about your change in demeanor, easily falling into pace beside you.
You felt a hand on your wrist, and heard your name being called. “Hey. Can I talk to you? I’ve been trying to apologize...”
You stopped dead in your tracks, as if you were pulled on a leash. As if his bare hand touching your empty gloved one had scolded you. Iwaizumi stood before you, red cheeks from either the cold or from rushing after you. Either way, you wanted nothing to do with it.
He had spun you in his grasp, his jaw tight and eyes searching yours before falling to his hand around yours. His grip on your wrist was tight, and he swallowed as his eyes found yours again.
“I don’t want to talk to you.” You snatched your arm away. “Have you ever considered that? I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see you, and I don’t want to hear your half-ass apology!”
“I have been trying to talk to you.” He said. “I...” His eyes scanned yours. His tongue rolled in his mouth. “You mean to tell me that you don’t want my apologies?”
“You’ve made it very clear what you think of me, so I hope that I can make this very clear for you,” You took a deep breath. “I hate you. I don’t like you, I have never liked you, and I hope that whatever it is that is eating you up inside continues to do so.”
Hajime Iwaizumi’s eye twitched. He started to take a step towards you, but decided against it, falling back into the same step. “I don’t...” His voice was nothing as you had ever heard it. “You...” His eyes clouded with the emotions you were familiar with. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
It was a sudden realization. It was not something you had even considered before, not something planned or reasoned. It was much like a tsunami, a build up of unrelated activity that brought something else entirely.
Emotions were unfortunate things. If you feel extreme emotions for someone, no matter what... they are still very strong feelings.
Hate to love, what a strange concept.
You held the potion below your nose, inhaling the scent.
“What does it smell like?” Snape asked.
“It smells like... bergamot.” You distinguished the varying smells. “Apple. And... lavender?”
You stepped back and hoped no one could see you connecting the dots through your eyes.
Tooru Oikawa was an observant person. He was known to be the person who knew the best for his team, easily finding the perfect techniques for each on the field and as encouragement. He was one for connections and relationships.
Which is why he knew that you were masking feelings of something else with this burning hatred. Which is why he knew why you felt so bad after Iwa called you a terrible name in front of an audience. Which is why he knew who it was when you listed your amortentia scents.
He tried to send you a look from his seat across from you, classes later. He wanted to tell you that he knew; that he knew there was something more to what’s going on, and that something was Iwaizumi.
You just sent him a middle finger, knowing full well what he was getting at.
Your feelings didn’t just suddenly arrive. And you were full of confusion, disorientation, and most of all... anger.
For as long as you could remember, Hajime Iwaizumi was supposed to be your arch enemy. He was your nemesis on a daily basis. He was the reason for your annoyance. He was the reason for your hatred for the colors red and gold. He was the reason you became the quidditch captain. He was the reason for the breath leaving your lungs.
And he was the reason for the breath entering.
You were pissed. You were pissed that you had unrealized feelings for the man you were supposed to hate, have hated for years. You were pissed that your love had been in a game of chess, where the only outcome is to win or forfeit. You were pissed that the entire time you had spent a vast majority of your time hating, loathing, rolling your eyes at... the entire time you had a reserved space for hate, when it should have been quite the opposite.
The luck must have been exclusively for someone else, because it seemed as though whoever created you had decided to have a fun game.
You had punched Hajime Iwaizumi once.
It was something you thought of a lot, and it was the main reason Iwaizumi chose not to test you too closely to that day.
He was rolling his eyes at something Oikawa was saying when you walked by. You were heading to your quidditch practice, the captain not one for latecomers. And he caught sight of you. He quickly jumped from his spot and stopped you from passing.
“Out of the way, Hajime, I have practice.”
“Oh, right, because you’re on the quidditch team now.”
“I am, thank you very much.” It was the beginning of third year, and you were not only annoyed but you were also a Growing Person going through puberty. You did not have time to deal with a teenage boy pissing you off. “You forget that not everyone got on the team their first year of trying out.”
“Because we’re better than the entire Slytherin team.”
“Talk to me when you win a house cup.” You tried to push past him, but he stood directly in front of you in one step. “Move, or be moved.”
“What are you going to do? Punch me?”
So, you did. Your fist collided with his cheek before you could even register that it had happened. Oikawa gasped out loud, it quickly turning into a laugh.
“She punched you!” Oikawa laughed, grasping at his sides. “Ah man!”
While Iwaizumi touched his cheek to check that— ah yes, you really did punch him— you were already walking away to the practice field.
Iwaizumi missed you, if he were being fully and completely honest with himself.
He found himself searching for you in classes or in common areas, prepared for your snide remarks and bitter taunts. He found himself waiting for you to roll your eyes at his presence; looking for you to quip about the next quidditch game.
But when none of it came, he felt out of place.
He actually missed your annoyed banter. He missed you shoving your middle finger in his direction. He missed the redness on your cheeks when you would try to calm yourself down. He missed the silence that would escape you if he entered a room and you were anything other than angry.
He missed catching you smiling at someone and watching your face change. He missed the arguments in class. He missed the little comments during eating.
Confused, he pushed those feelings down as he watched you eat with some Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff that he had never talked to before.
It had been several weeks of silence from your end. You had thrown yourself back into quidditch before the break, happy to have a distraction from whatever the fuck you were feeling. You weren’t going home for the holidays, so you spent some time planning for the spring and classes.
You found yourself outside, sitting in the snow and writing a make up essay for Snape. You had found a nice spot under a roofed area, so nothing smudged your writing (or, you know, covered it completely).
“Oh.” A voice said from above you.
You looked up to find Iwaizumi, hands in pockets and staring at you as if you had never existed and he was discovering you for the first time.
“I wasn’t expecting to find anyone here.” He said.
“Yeah, obviously neither was I.” You started to put your things away.
“No... no comment?”
“Hm?”
“No... snarky comment? No you look terrible to me?”
You shook your head. Mainly because you didn’t have the energy. You were content, bored, and just overall exhausted. You had exhausted yourself in thinking of every possible outcome to your love for the man in front of you, none of which made any sense.
None of it made any sense.
It was as if one moment, you were standing on ground. And the next, you were swept away by a giant wave that you thought was only an earthquake. You hated love.
“Then, can I finally say what I have been meaning to?”
“No.” You finally got the last of your things into your bag.
“Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why can’t you just hear me out?” He stood in front of you, hoping to stall your leaving. “I’ve been trying to tell you that I shouldn’t have called you a bitch, and I should have...”
“And I don’t want to hear it.”
You started to leave, but he jogged to jump in front of you again. Through the years, he had gained height compared to you. You weren’t necessarily kids anymore, you weren’t at eye level to just punch him in his cheek without reaching for it.
“God, you’re fucking annoying.” You shifted your bag on your shoulders. “You want me to call you a name so it can be even? You want me to tell you that everything is fine and we can go back to our constant fighting? What do you fucking want from me?”
“What do I want from you?” He asked, voice rising to match yours. “What do you want from me? I’ve been trying to get your attention for over a fucking month and you have given me every reason to just stop.”
“Then why don’t you!” You dropped your hands. “Why don’t you just leave me the fuck alone?”
“Why?”
“Why what, Hajime?”
“Why?” Iwaizumi let out a small breath, the grey cloud leaving his lungs. “Why won’t you just let me talk to you for five minutes?”
“Because I don’t want to! Because I don’t want to hear you make up excuses. Because I cannot listen to your voice for too long.”
Before you could stop yourself, before you could recognize your own voice, before any thoughts arrived, you said, “Because for some fucked up god awful reason, I’m in love with you!”
Everything froze all at once. The oxygen left your lungs, the snow stopped falling, and everything became so unbearably silent.
You stared at him, regret drenching you in an instant as if the tides of the ocean had rose and fell in one single motion. You couldn’t breathe, your heart seized in your chest and against your ribs. You couldn’t bring yourself to look into his face, fearing to find yourself lost and never found.
He let out a single breath. And you held yours.
fin.
#anime#manga#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x y/n#haikyuu one shot#haikyuu headcannons#haikyuu headcannon#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu hogwarts au#haikyuu harry potter au#hajime iwaizumi#hajime iwaizumi x reader#hajime iwaizumi x you#hajime iwaizumi x y/n#iwaizumi#iwaizumi x reader#iwaizumi x you#iwaizumi x y/n#iwaizumi hajime#iwaizumi hajime x reader#iwaizumi hajime x you#iwaizumi hajime x y/n#gryffindor iwaizumi#gryffindor seijoh#slytherin tsukki#tooruluv🍄post#hogwarts au#hqmirroroferised
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No future with a boy like this - F.W
Summary: Fred disappoints you more than once, giving you no other choice, you had to let him go.
Warnings: ANGSTY, cursing, implied sex very briefly, FLUFF AT THE END
A/N: my firsts time writing angst and I really don’t know if i was overdramatic or not enough dramatic lol please give feedback
April- 1996 - Hogwarts
Y/n was waiting on the tribune next to the quidditch field. It was already getting darker now. An orange glow spreading over the field. The sun was going down already. She was sitting there for two hours now.
She promised herself she would stop waiting after an hour but here she was, still hoping he would show up.
It was her birthday, it was her fucking birthday. And this wasn't the first time. It started with little dates, he forgot them sometimes but y/n didn't mind, he made it up every time.
He hurt her by forgetting those things all the time. But it was Fred Weasley after all. You knew this was coming when he became your boyfriend. You even got used to it. He was always busy. That's just how Fred is.
And here she was again. Trying to not let the tears of disappointment fall down on her cheeks. She felt miserable and decided to finally call it a night, going back to her dorm. She was exhausted.
Walking down the corridors, she saw Fred. He was just sitting there, laughing with George. That's when it was clear, he wasn't even late, he just forgot.
He saw her and smiled, walking her way, but she turned on her heals immediately. "Y/n!" he screamed confused. He followed her and his long legs made it easy to catch up.
She didn't answer, finding it much harder to hold back her tears now. "Y/n? Hey? What's wrong?" he asked.
Y/n stopped abruptly. "You really don't know?" she hissed.
A confused look formed on his face. "What do you mean"? he stammered. A tear fell down her cheek and his face was full of guilt now, without even knowing what he did.
"You forgot", you snapped, "again!"
He was thinking for one minute. It really took him one minute. What was wrong with that boy?!
Suddenly a wave of realization hit him. "Fuck." he squealed.
Y/n didn't need this shit right now, and ran away before he could say something. Making him run after her. "NO y/n wait! I'm so sorry, I won't forget next time, I promise, I'm so sorry" he begged while grabbing her arm, pulling her closer to him.
"You say that every time Fred" she sighed, another tear fell down.
It broke Fred's heart. It really did. He didn't mean to forget this things, he didn't want to hurt you. His mind was just so full all the time. So many things were going on in those brains of his.
"I mean it, I'm sorry, I love you y/n" he assured.
And she fell for it, like she always did. It happened every time. Fred said things that made her melt, and she forgave him. It was nothing new. Because how could she not? The sweet boy didn't mean to hurt her, she knew that, everyone knew that.
But still, her friends warned her. There was no future with a boy like this. It couldn't stay like this. So she swore to herself this was the last time. She made that clear to Fred too.
Because what if he's the love of her life? Her future? This was her last year after all, y/n’s future was right in front of her. What if Fred was her future? You both couldn't give that up.
May- 1996 - Hogwarts
Everything was alright.
They were okay.
And Fred hasn’t been late for a whole month, sounds like nothing special but to him and her it was.
This weekend y/n was going home, and not just home, but with Fred.
After a year it was time for him to meet her parents. Fred claimed he was the perfect son in law, so he didn’t hesitate to agree. Y/n was nervous and excited at the same time.
Ready in her dorm, with a portkey, she had her favourite sundress on. She was waiting for Fred but he didn’t show up. Okay it was only 15 minutes now, but with their little history it made her nervous. She was absolutely sure Fred wouldn’t forget this. He can’t forget this.
20 minutes later she was still waiting.
No. This couldn’t be true. It just couldn’t be.
And then, she found a note under her potionsbook. After reading only one word, she was already furious, a growing heat filling her cheeks.
Dear y/n, love
I remembered. I swear. But I just won’t make it. I’m not feeling okay and I think I might have a fever or something. I don’t want to make you or your parents sick, so I’m staying in my dorm.
I love you, kisses Fred x
She didn’t really know what to think. She was so disappointed, again.
But she could’t blame her boyfriend for feeling sick. Although she had her doubts, what if this wasn’t true, maybe he lied because he did forget it?
No, no, she had to trust him. Fred wouldn’t lie to her. So she grabbed the portkey and went to visit her parents.
Alone.
-
When she traveled back to Hogwarts it was late already, past midnight. Y/n hoped Umbridge wouldn’t catch her.
The corridors were empty, completely silent. This was not unusual. Most of the students were already asleep this late on a Sunday.
Unexpectedly, she heard gigles and laughs coming from around the corner. Did it come from the library? It couldn’t be. Not at almost 1 am.
She went closer to listen. Y/n placed her ear on the door. Was it... Was it...? No. No.
Did she hear Fred’s voice?
She really hoped she was just imagining this. Maybe she should trust Fred more.
But just checking won’t hurt right?
So she tried to open the door. It was locked.
“Alohamora” she whispered.
What she saw broke her heart into a million pieces.
Angelina sat on a table, with Fred extremely close to her, giggling. George and Lee were there too.
She couldn’t believe her own eyes. Looking silently in Fred’s shocked ones.
“Fuck” he sighed. “Y/n-“ he tried.
But she cut him off before he could say anything. “No, I don’t wanna hear another silly explanation from you, it’s enough, I don’t want to see you ever again” she screamed with tears in her eyes, making her vision blurry.
Y/n ran away, faster than ever so Fred couldn’t catch up this time.
“Stop!! Stop!” she heard him scream behind her.
She ran and ran, not even knowing were to.
“Let me explain” another scream followed.
That’s when she ended up in a corridor she didn’t know. A dead end. Ofcourse.
She gave up and stopped. Fred ended in front of her, breathing loudly, trying to catch his breath.
“Baby I-“ he tried
“Don’t call me baby, this is over” y/n cut him off.
Fred was speachless, for the first time in history. He didn’t realise this truly happened. He knew what he did wasn’t okay, but he never expected her to actually broke up with him. It just didn’t occur in his mind this was a possibility.
“But.. but...” he stuttered. “I swear, I can explain, what you’ve just seen, it wasn’t what you think it is. I’ve told you about the shoppe George and I want to open, right? It’s actually going to happen. We’re leaving hogwarts. That’s what we were doing, we were planning things. Tomorrow we’re going to blow up Umbridge, no not literally blow up, but with lots of firework! And then we’re going to open the shoppe together. It’s my dream y/n!” he rambled excited.
Y/n sighed. Understanding why he did this, but it didn’t change a thing.
“That actually makes things worse Fred. I’m happy your dream will come true. But you’re leaving and I’m finishing my year. When are you going to have time for me if you run a shop? You didn’t even have time for me now.” she cried.
Both of them were crying now. Knowing the break up was really going to happen. Fred wanted to keep fighting. But he knew she might be right.
A little sob left his mouth, something he never did before. She was right. He truly loved her but he couldn’t give her the happy future she deserved. He wasn’t right for her, he didn’t treat her the way she should’ve been treated. And the idea broke him. And that’s when she walked away.
They didn’t see each other again afterwards.
The next day, y/n laid in her bed when she heard fireworks, knowing what happened. She couldn’t go outside and watch...
Happy screams and laughs filled the castle. And that’s when she realised Fred and George were gone now. It was reality now. They won’t come back. Although a little part of her hoped they would stay. A little part of her thought Fred would come to her, begging her to stay with him. But she guessed he just didn’t love her enough.
After all the times Fred broke her heart, she was kind off used to it. But those heartbreaks couldn’t ever overcome this one.
August - 1996 - Diagon Alley
The summer was almost over, y/n graduated two months ago. The heartbreak still hurted but she was better now. She still didn’t know what to do now that she’s graduated.
Hermione decided you two had to go shopping. “It’ll make you happier” she stated like it was an actual fact. Y/n couldn’t say no of course.
Y/n’s breath hitched. A big clone of Fred’s face right in front of her (or George). This had to be their joke shoppe. God, it was more impressive than she expected. Guess you should never underestimate the twins.
“Let’s go inside y/n!” Hermione announced excited, grabbing her arm trying to puch her inside.
“Oh no no no no no, I don’t think that’s a great idea” she hesitated.
“Don’t worry, it’s so busy, Fred won’t see you” she promised her. Y/n sighed. She really didn’t want to go inside. She’d love to see the shoppe, but seeing Fred...
Whatever, it was true. It was so busy so Fred won’t ever notice her.
They entered, y/n was surprised, it was wonderful. Fred and George must have worked so hard to get to this point. God, she loved the place.
It brought back memories. All those joke products, most of them were used on her, she remembered. Fred thought it was hilarious to prank her literally all the time, being proud because it was something he invented himself. She couldn’t be mad about it, it made him so happy.
The place even smelled like him.
Y/n took a deep breath trying to gather all of the smell, in hope it would stay in her nose, so she could remember it back home.
She closed her eyes and imagined how it could be, if they didn’t broke up. How she would probably come here everyday to say hi, how she would watch Fred all day doing his job.
And then... she saw him. In his uniform, he stood there proudly on the stairs above her. Smiling happily, seeing all those laughing people because if his work.
He was happy. Fred missed y/n but he was happy. He thought a lot of all the things he did wrong. Although he didn’t really have time to worry.
Y/n sighed, it’s been months. Her heart was glowing inside her chest. She didn’t even feel sad any more. This was what her boyfriend always dreamt of. Her ex-boyfriend.
She turned around deciding it was not smart to look at the beautiful boy, the boy who still made her knees go weak.
Fred’s smell was more vibrant than before now. Almost like he was right in front of me.
Ow, love potions, of course.
Of course she still smelled Fred in it.
“I smell honey, flowers and vanilla soap” she heard a familiar voice whispering in her ear, almost making her jump.
“F-fred, hey” she stuttered, in shock by the fact he’s standing right in front of her.
“You look great, changed your hair” he smiled. It was true, y/n cut her hair a little shorter and decided to give it a lighter colour for the summer. The typical breakup haircut.
“Fred do you want to... talk... please?” she asked, knowing it wasn’t a great idea. She wanted to just run away after she realized what she said.
“We could go upstairs, talk in my appartment”
October- 1996 - Diagon Alley
“Come on darling, George opened up already!” Fred screamed running through his kitchen while jumping, trying to get his pants on. He grabbed an apple as breakfast.
Y/n ran to the kitchen too. “I thought you changed the being late thing” y/n joked, yes they joked about it now.
“You were the one holding me up this time” he smiled adding a wink. “You just can’t resist me in the bedroom” y/n answered daring.
She grabbed him by his collar, pressing a kiss on his lips. “I have no choice with the sexiest girlfriend in the word” Fred grinned, pressing kisses all over your face, making you giggle.
“Baby, you’re wearing your uniform backwards” he laughed.
Y/n worked at the shoppe now too.
When she asked Fred to talk, they actually talked for hours. They talked about what went wrong in their relationship, about what they had been doing in those months they broke up, talked about how they still had feelings,...
And after two hours they made up. Both being happier than ever, deciding they learned from their break up.
Fred asked her to come live in his apartment and work in their shop too. Y/n didn’t hesitate for a moment. She designed their boxes or packages and talked to costumers. But most of all she distracted Fred by rolling her uniforme skirt up and bowing down to ‘grab’ something. Sometimes he took her back to the appartment because he couldn’t hold back anymore.
Y/n now knew, the breakup was necessary. You both learned. And now you’re happier than ever.
Because after all, Fred was your future.
***
#fred smut#fred angst#fred weasly x reader#fred weasley#george weasley smut#george x reader#george weasley#weasley#harry potter smut#harry potter
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Then, The Moment Came
Prompt: It just never was the right time. Not then, not later, until it suddenly is and everything’s... different.
Requested by: no one.
A/N: The Atsumu debut on my account has finally happened. And yes, this is very loosely, loosely based off of A Silent Voice because I literally cannot get it out of my head. Oh, and I love soulmates au’s.
Pairing: Atsumu Miya x F!Reader
A hard shove to your shoulders sends you to the ground with a huff, pain radiating through your being as you huff.
There’s jeering laughs that echo, hurtful enough that you don’t say anything, don’t try to stand up for yourself -- instead, you keep your head down, hair falling into your eyes as you bite your lips to fight back the tears that threaten to fall.
It’s not even the shove, or the pain that follows, that has tears welling.
They hurt so much less then...
“You’re just a freak,” Atsumu spits at you, “no wonder no one likes you.”
Atsumu Miya, ten years old, and he absolutely hates you. Why, you have absolutely no idea. It’s been like this ever since you moved into the house across the street from him, walked into his class that one fateful day, and introduced yourself.
You’d felt his glare on your back as you took the seat in front of him, and when you’d turned to face him, a harsh kick at the leg of your chair had you freezing in surprise.
You’d never spoken to him. Never directly. But after school that first day, he’d found you on your way home, tripped you so hard you skinned your knee, and laughed as he walked off.
Then, just as he went to turn, his twin beside him, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else; Atsumu had turned to you, a glint in his eyes. “You’re just a freak. No wonder no one likes you.”
It just never really ended after that.
But when you got home that day, brushing your mothers concerned hands away as she reached for your knee, you’d sat on your bed and looked at your arm only to see those exact same words.
Those cruel, cruel words, and wondered, how unlucky you must be to have a soulmate that hates you.
-
“Do you want to go to the game tonight?”
You blink, pulled from your thoughts at the sound of Misaki’s words. With a drawl, lips pulled downwards, you turn to her with a quirked brow. “No.” You say simply, shaking your head.
“Come on,” she huffs, head falling into the palms of her hands with a huff, “you never want to go to anything.”
You sigh. “That’s not true. I let you drag me lots of places.”
“You do not.”
“I do too.”
She pouts at you, lips pursed, eyes set into a teasing glare as she takes another bite out of her lunch. “Our volleyball team is supposed to be so good, though,” she whines, trying to appear nonchalant (though very much failing), as she lets her eyes wander on anything but you. “One of the best, actually. They make it to nationals every year and--”
“And they have their own cheer squad,” you cut in, “good for them.”
“Y/N.”
“What?”
She just glares at you.
“If you want to go so bad, take one of your other friends,” you shrug, brushing her off. “I’m not your only friend.”
“Yes, but you’re my best friend,” she smiles, sickly sweet, all bright eyed and twinkling and you sigh, once again, at the look she sends you. “And I only want to go with you.”
Staring at her for a moment, you laugh; “you’re good.”
And her eyes brighten, hope flooding them; “you’ll go, then?”
“I never said that.” She deflates, “but... sure.”
“Eeee~!” She jumps to a stand, reaching across the table to grab your hands, shaking them with a bright laugh. “Yes, yes, yes! You won’t regret this, Y/N/N, we’re going to have so much fun!”
I’m sure, you can’t help but think. It’ll be so fun to watch him show off.
And even though you don’t say it aloud, Misaki seems to just know.
“Atsumu-san will be there too.”
“He is apart of the team.”
“Maybe you could even try to--”
“He doesn’t want to talk to me,” you cut in, voice sharp, maybe a little more sharp then you mean to be. At the look Misaki sends you, you frown at the guilt that floods you, the hurt look in her eyes, before softening your voice. “Atsumu hates me, Saki. I’ve told you this.”
“But-But that was when you were kids--!”
“And he hasn’t talked to me since.”
Her shoulders fall, and she doesn’t argue after that.
Inhaling deeply, you reach across the table, taking her hand in your own like she had moments ago, though gently and squeeze it softly. It pulls her eyes on you, and smiling gently, you add; “I appreciate you, Saki, and what you’re trying to do. And I love that you want me to be happy, but I don’t need my soulmate to be.”
“You say that,” she frowns, “but you hardly ever smile...”
And she says the words softly, carefully, not wanting to hurt you, but you can’t ignore the pang in your heart at her words. Your hand slips from hers as the words repeat in your mind, and you think of all those years ago, the constant, relentless, cruel teasing that you’d endured from the person that was meant to be your one and only.
You realize, Misaki’s completely right -- you weren’t happy. And it was silly to pretend that you were.
“Yeah, well,” you whisper, and it’s like ironic and cruel perfect timing that has Atsumu walking into the lunchroom at that exact moment, surrounded by his friends, laughing. He hasn’t a care in the world, head thrown back with a laugh as passing girls flock towards him.
“That doesn’t matter to him.”
-
“Damn you, Misaki.”
Huffing out the words, followed by a curse, as yet another call to your best friend is all but ignored, you grit your teeth.
Where the hell could she have gone?
One second she was right beside you, laughing and cheering as Inarizaki took an already expected win. And then you’d run to go to the bathroom for a minute, only to find the girl had absolutely disappeared on you. Seriously, she was no where. And it didn’t help that the gym was absolutely flooded with other people that you couldn’t properly see anyone.
“I swear to Kami, Misaki, when I find--”
“--Are you okay?”
You freeze.
No. Please, anyone but him.
A hand falls on your shoulder, spinning you round and of course, it is him; Atsumu Miya in all his glory, smiling down at you. And then, as you meet his gaze, his own falters, and his brows furrow and the next words that leave his lips sting more then they probably should.
“Y/N? Y/L/N Y/N?” He laughs, shaking his head, “I didn’t know you went to Inarizaki.”
Yeah, ouch.
You’ve only been in the same school as him since literally elementary.
But apparently, after he got bored of bullying you, he also got bored of acknowledging your presence at all.
You don’t say anything, you can’t. Words feel like they’re lodged at the back of your throat, and it suddenly feels like you can’t breathe. All the people feel like too much all of a sudden, and you’re desperate to get away. You’ll apologize to Misaki later, but you need to leave. You turn, moving to run off, because you just want to get out of there, but then, he reaches for you and--
“Don’t touch me!”
People stop, pausing for a moment at your booming voice, all eyes on you as Atsumu pulls back like you’ve physically slapped him, shock clear on his face.
And then you turn, once more, and walk off before he can say anything else.
You don’t see the frown on his face, don’t see the way he glances down at his arm, nor the realization that dawns on him then and there.
-
“You just left me.”
“Technically you left me first.”
“Suna-kun wanted to talk to me.”
“Then, it’s your fault.”
“How is it my fault?”
Pausing, you turn to Misaki; “I sent you a text.”
She blinks at you. “I thought you’d been kidnapped! Or worse, killed!”
“Now, you’re being dramatic.”
“Y/N/N!”
Pausing by your locker, you turn to her; “I’m sorry, I just... I had to get--”
“Y/N!”
What in the world--
“Is that--”
“I know who it is, Saki.”
“Okay,” she breathes, “why is he walking our way? Why is he calling for you?”
“I don’t know!” You stress, turning to her with wide, panicked eyes. “Hide me!”
“How in the world am I--”
“Y/N,” Atsumu smiles, finally reaching you.
You freeze.
Misaki stares at you, then Atsumu, then, with a light nudge, turns; “w-well,” she laughs, “I should really get going. Have fun, you two!” And she promptly ignores the absolutely terrified look you send her.
You’re so going to kill her.
Later. Definitely later, when you manage to escape Atsumu, somehow, yet again--
“I’m so glad I found you.”
Turning to him, you swallow thickly.
“I tried to find you yesterday, but I couldn’t and I got scared that--”
“What do you want.”
You’re blunt, more blunt then you mean to be. But you don’t want this mindless chatter, whatever it means, and you’re absolutely desperate to get away that you don’t even care if talking like that makes him mad. You used to deal with it as a kid all the time anyways, so...
“Well, I just wanted to catch up,” he laughs, lightly, a little too airy. Is he... nervous? “We haven’t talked since we were kids, so--”
“You mean when you used to bully me?”
You have no idea where this confidence is coming from.
“I’d hardly call it bullying--”
“I used to come home in bruises because of you,” you whisper, avoiding his gaze as you hug yourself. You’re uncomfortable. You want to leave, you need to leave. “Anyways, it doesn’t matter. I have to--”
He grabs you, your entire body going cold at the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your arm. On one hand, it’s like you can feel... this electric shiver run through your entire being and you figure it’s because of this supposed connection the two of you are supposed to have. But on the other hand, it fills you with such terror, that you almost want to cry.
“I didn’t know.”
But his words makes all that go away, and instead you’re just confused.
“What?”
“I didn’t know that we were... you know.”
Blinking, you finally meet his gaze head on. “How could you have not known?”
“You... You never said anything.”
Shaking your head, you rip your arm from his grasp. “That day, when I introduced myself--”
“You weren’t talking to me,” he argues, “not directly, at least. And you were always so quiet when I’d...-- But then, yesterday, when I grabbed you, well--” He holds his hand out towards you, and sure enough the words written on his arm are:
don’t touch me!
So, apparently he never did know.
It doesn’t change anything. How could it?
Him not knowing doesn’t excuse bullying you. Doesn’t erase everything he did.
It could never.
“What to know what my words are?” Practically yanking the sleeve of your sweater up your arm, you thrust it towards Atsumu, gaze harsh. And his eyes slowly flicker downwards, frowning as he reads the words.
You’re just a freak. No wonder no one likes you.
And the stupid guilty look on his face pisses you off even more.
“I want nothing to do with you,” you spit, “so just leave me alone.”
-
What the hell is Atsumu Miya doing at your front door.
“I was hoping you still lived here.”
Pausing, you sigh. “You don’t give up do you?”
Grinning, Atsumu rubs the back of his neck, “unfortunately not.”
Sighing, you let your hand fall on your hip, tilting your head to the side curiously. “So what, you know I’m your soulmate now and you want to walk me to school?”
There’s a nervous smile on his face, one that seems odd on him, as he laughs lightly. “Yeah?”
Rolling your eyes, you brush past him, “whatever.”
But he follows, and you don’t argue.
-
“Let me grab those for you!”
With a blink, the stack of textbooks in your hands is suddenly gone and in another’s. You sigh when you meet Atsumu’s familiar gaze.
“You don’t have to do that, Miya-san.”
“I want to,” he shrugs simply, and you pointedly ignore Misaki’s laugh from beside you. “And, it’s Atsumu.”
“What?”
He meets your eyes, smiling; “call me Atsumu.”
Misaki nudges you with her elbow, pulling your gaze on her momentarily as she grins brightly. Sighing, you turn back to Atsumu, watching as he gently places the textbooks down in the locker you’d just opened. Turning to walk off with a grin, clearly proud of himself.
“Thank you, Miya-san.”
“Atsumu!” He calls over his shoulder.
“Well,” Misaki adds after a moment, “that was sweet~!”
Rolling your eyes, you shake your head. “Yeah, yeah.”
-
“I would like you to come to my game.”
Staring up at Atsumu, you blink.
“Please.”
Licking your lips, clasp your hands together behind your back; “won’t I be an embarrassment?”
“No.” And he says it quickly, barely letting you finish your sentence, adamantly shaking his head. “No, you could never.”
I used to be.
But you don’t say that.
“Okay,” you heed, hating the butterflies that flood your stomach at the bright grin that curls onto his lips. “I’ll think about it.”
“Yes!”
-
“Congratulations on the win, Atsumu-san.”
“Y/N/N, you came!”
It’s hard to fight back the blush that threatens to grow on your cheeks at the smile he sends you. Hard to ignore the way your heart flutters as he calls you by that stupid nickname that he’d picked up from Misaki. And hard to forget the way everything screams in you for him at the way his eyes sparkle as he looks down at you.
“Misaki dragged me,” you gesture behind yourself where you know your friend is, shaking your head at the bright grin she sends the two of you.
“Still,” he nods, eyes softening as he looks down at you; “you came.”
“Yes, well,” tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly feeling nervous, you shuffle on your feet. “I should be going now. Congratulations again on the--”
You don’t make it two steps before he’s wrapped a hand around your wrist, tugged you into him and slipped the other around your waist. You’re flush against him, a huff of surprise leaves your lips as you blink up at the boy, trying to ignore the way it feels like your body has ignited with electricity at just the simple touch of him.
And then his fingers are ghosting across your cheek, brushing back loose hair, and pulling your gaze solely on him, where you can’t seem to look away as everything just... fades away. The crowded gym suddenly feels empty, and everything is quiet as you stare up at him.
You also note that you feel at ease at his touch.
“I never said sorry.”
Lips parting, you swallow thickly; “it’s okay--”
“No, it isn’t,” he whispers, resting his forehead against your own, and it feels like you might melt right there at the feeling of his warm breath on you. “None of what I did was okay.”
“Atsumu...”
“I’m so sorry...”
You relax in his touch, hands moving to fall on his shoulders, where you squeeze, eyes falling to his lips before flickering back up to his own.
“It’s okay...”
“...I want to kiss you,” he whispers, voice gentle, nervous. “Is that okay?”
You nod, feeling the words slip out all on their own; “please.”
And he obliges and suddenly everything just makes sense, just works, and all that gushing Misaki used to go on about about how wonderful soulmates are you completely agree with. Having Atsumu so close, having his warm touch on you, having his lips molding against your own, barely a breaths away, feels so incredibly amazing and right that you wonder how you’d ever existed without him.
He makes up for it all then. None of it matters any more, not the teasing, not the pushing and shoving, nor the tears that would follow.
It’s all worth it for this one moment now.
-
a little ooc? maybe?
whoops.
#haikyuu#haikyuu imagine#haikyuu x reader#hq#hq imagine#hq x reader#atsumu miya#atsumu miya imagine#miya atsumu x reader#miya atsumu#miya atsumu imagine#atsumu imagine#atsumu x reader#atsumu#atsumu angst#miya atsumu angst#imagine#imagines#my fics
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Brothers feeding their infant children
Need so much fluff and cuteness now, so here have these extra cutesy and sugary HC's!
Lucifer feeding his daughter:
*This papa likes to do this task, it's just so soothing and relaxing, he often thinks. Sitting down on a couch or his bed, cradding his little daughter in one arm as the other is used to feed her a bottle of milk.
*He does it when he knows his brothers aren't around to pester him, about how cute and soft he looks with little baby Lucille.
*Lucille isn't a really loud baby, when she gets hungry all she does is whimper slightly and Lucifer knows what it means. Thankfully, since other babies often cry and it can be so troublesome and tiring.
"You're hungry? Feeding time it is."
*He prepares the bottle himself, as neatly as possible and he hums, measures up the amount of formula and water that he has to. Then puts it a few moments in the fire before sitting down and feeding Lucille gently and slowly.
*It's a pretty quiet task, Lucifer's daughter only eats as she closes her eyes and relaxes, and so Lucifer relaxes. Once Lucille's done, he cleans up any remain of milk from her mouth, and they cuddle until the baby falls asleep, Lucifer also falls asleep with his daughter, all snuggled up. (Of course sometimes he forgets to close the door and locked it, so a picture secretly is taken in silence)
Mammon feeding his son:
*Panicky Papa Mammon is panicky. Because whenever he has to feed Junior he forgets how the formula goes and takes a lot of time, which causes his baby son to start getting impatient and cries bloody murder.
"Waaaaaaaaah!!"
"Just a sec, Junior! Daddy's making your bottle, please wait just a sec!"
*Runs everywhere in the kitchen with his son in a sling around his front, makes a mess of himself there. He accomplishes nothing, and defeated has to listen to his infant son cry his little head off.
"Honestly Mammon. By now you should know how this works..."
*Either Satan or Lucifer are the ones doing the job for Mammon since he just can't seem to understand how baby formulas are done.
"Well, well, say thank you to your uncle(s) that could do your bottle better than your daddy."
*Now he can feed Junior as he stands up and gently puts the teat of the bottle in the baby boy's mouth, as he quiets down and starts eating, thanks to it. Mammon is exhausted after every feeding, someday he'll learn how to prepare baby bottles.
Leviathan feeding his daughter:
"Dada hungy."
"Are you hungry, Leviosa? Alright, a bottle will come for you. Actual status: Prepare a bottle for my daughter. And sent."
*This father honestly is a miracle that he acknowledges that he has an actual daughter, one could think that he forgets about it given how much of an otaku and gamer he is, but miraculously he remembers about little Leviosa.
*He prepares the bottle, though he adds more formula than water and the thing ends up thick, too thick for a little demoness baby to eat it.
"You can't eat this... dang it... how are baby bottles made?"
*Searches online tutorials of how to make bottles for infants and after a few trials and errors he's got it. He makes a perfect baby bottle and goes to feed his small daughter with it.
*It's either on his bean bag or his tub bed where he feeds little 'Osa. He wraps her in a blanket and puts a bib around her neck to feed her and the baby girl eats calmly. Sometimes relaxing enough to make Levi almost doze off as he's doing this. Burps his daughter after she's done eating and then plays games with her. Small baby being taught of games anime at a very young age, she's to be an otaku and gamer when she grows up.
Satan feeding his daughter:
*This is the most attentive father in the family, because he knows what babies need and what their crying means when putting careful attention to it. He's read in books, there is literally nothing that this demon doesn't know, even before getting a daughter he knew what he was doing.
*When his daughter is growing restless and whiny, it only means that she's hungry.
"Hungry are we, Sandy? Don't worry, this can be fixed."
*Just like Lucifer he prepares bottles in order, first a specific amount of water, then the formula, closing up the bottle and lastly putting it in the fire for a few minutes before he sits down in a pile of books, cradles Sandy in one arm and feeds her, though the baby girl knows how to hold the bottle herself so she eats on her own, while Satan is reading his novel.
*When done she makes a gurgling sound and Satan cleans her mouth, puts her over his shoulder and gently burps her to avoid her from getting horrible tummy aches, like it happens to babies if they're not burped on time.
*Then he reads her a story. A repeating cycle. Feeding, burping, reading. Repeat.
Asmodeus feeding his son:
*The Avatar of Lust... a father? One could think that this beautiful man wouldn't even want to get himself a child, but apparently he actually gets a son, who he loves and brags about him being the most beautiful baby in the whole Devildom. And he dresses him only in the fashionable children clothes.
*He surprisingly knows how to raise his child and tend to his needs, so his son is not only for fashion, beauty or a simple target of pictures. When little Cosmo is hungry, he lets his father know by chewing on his lipsticks.
"Ah, no, no, no Cosmo. Lipsticks are not chewing toys, you silly~"
*He immediately takes the lipsticks from his little boy and picks him up, knowing what he wants and goes to feed him. Doesn't really know how bottles work so it's always Satan who makes Cosmo's bottles.
"You should already know how to do this, Asmo."
"You know to do it better than me, so do it for me, Satan! Cosmo's hungry and I don't want him to get cranky. His skin will get ruined if he cries that much!"
*Nevertheless, Satan prepares the bottle and gives it to Asmo who thanks him and walks right into his round flowery hanging chair, sits down and feeds his child, humming him a tune. Cosmo rarely cries, the only times is if his father forgets about anything that he needs, but he's a calm baby.
"Alright, we have that tummy filled now. Let's continue making ourselves beautiful and take pictures of us, son!"
Beelzebub feeding his son:
*Whenever Berith gets hungry, he cries as that's the only way he can notify his father that he needs to be fed.
"What is it, my boy? Need something? Hungry?"
"Hungy, hungy, hungy!"
*Berith is a cute chubby baby because just like his father, he eats quite a lot and that's why he has that chubby round body that only makes him look so adorable.
"Alright, alright, let's go eat. I'm hungry too."
*There are like a hundred baby bottles already prepared when arriving at the kitchen. Beel really just prepares a lot of food for his baby and himself, so they both can just eat without waiting for much.
*Berith doesn't get full with only one bottle, he eats and eats until all the prepared bottles are all finished and he's satisfied. After all his the son of the Avatar of Gluttony. Who's to say that he wouldn't be a glutton just like his dad? Obviously he's a glutton, and if he's not fed on time he throws major temper tantrums, which won't quiet down until he has something to chew on his little mouth.
"We're full, now are we? You ate them all, son! You're just like me."
*Beel has the best eating buddy that he could ask for. Hands down.
Belphegor feeding his twin sons:
*The Avatar of Sloth raising a pair of twin sons seems like a dream, but it isn't a dream. Belphie's the father of twin son's and he actually does take good care of them, despite sleeping most of the time, but it helps since babies do sleep a lot, and so does his sons.
*They both cry in unison if they're hungry, which wakes up their father who tries to get oriented again and tend to his two babies.
"Beliel, Beleth... what is it, sons? Oh, you're both hungry. Well, let's get you fed."
*Still sleepily, Belphie picks them up in both arms and goes to get their bottles, which thankfully Beel has prepared and left in the room just for Belphie to take them and feed both Beliel and Beleth.
*Since he only have two arms and it's twins that he's holding, he had taught them to eat on their own, just like how Satan taught his daughter to do so. It's easier that way, all Belphie has to do is sit down on the rocking chair and rock with his infant twins as they eat.
*Falls asleep when they're halfway and them too. Both twins are asleep. Belphie, Beliel and Beleth work that way. In halfway to be done eating, they all fall asleep. Beel has to pick the two babies and put them in their cribs, then pick up Belphie and put him to bed.
#obey me#obey me swd#swd obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me leviathan#obey me satan#obey me asmodeus#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphegor#headcanons#parenting headcanons#demon bros as papas#feeding headcanons
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