#literally feel free to ask me any questions these girls need the views

[mclqren]

CAR TALK ★ LS2

PAIRING ✦ logan sargeant x fem!youtuber!reader

SUMMARY ✦ on your youtube channel, you post q&a's in your car, and your most recent guest has people speculating about the two of you. [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing

NOTES ✦ reader lives in america for the purpose of this fic. i know the car doesn't like the same in all of the pictures but that's the best i could do ahaha. the fc i've used is kiana davis, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

liked by emmachamberlain, yourbsf, and 582,899 others

yourusername first 'car talk' episode of 2024 is pending...🏎️

view all comments

user1 the weekly episodes of car talk have been severely missed this winter vacation.

user2 SO REALLL i've been needing y/n back on my screen

user3 she is actually so perfect it's scary

user4 idc we needdd a car talk x chicken shop date crossover asap

yourusername @/ameliadimz thoughts??

ameliadimz we can look into this 👀

user5 OKAY BUT CAN WE TALK ABOUT THE CAPTION?? THE RACECAR??

user6 she HASSS to be interviewing some f1 driver.

emmachamberlain YUMMYYYY

yourusername 😍😍

yourbsf MY BEST FRIENDDD!!

yourusername ALWAYSSS

liked by logansargeant, yourbsf, and 552,110 others

yourusername 'car talk' ep 1 of 2024 coming this saturday 👀🏎️

view all comments

user8 IT'S DEF A F1 DRIVERRR THE SHIRT IS A DEAD GIVEAWAY

user9 oh ABSOLUTELY

user10 her facecardddd oh my gosh

user11 been missing your videos queen!

user12 okay but like which f1 driver do we think it is??

user13 crazy thing is she has like five or six of them following her/in her likes right now, so it could technically be any of them

liked by logansargeant, alex_albon, and 622,110 others

tagged logansargeant

yourusername 'car talk' ft logan sargeant out now!! one of my favorite episodes i've filmed so far ❤️

view all comments

user18 WOWWW IT WAS LOGAN THE ENTIRE TIME??

user19 I KNOWWW

user20 yall's chemistry was through the roof. i was sweating just watching the episode

alex_albon 👀

user21 LMAOOO ALEX WHAT DO YOU KNOW

logansargeant Best driver/farm animal expert/youtuber 🙌

yourusername yessirrrr ❤️

user22 HELP NOT ALL OF Y/N'S PROFESSIONS

user23 he had to make sure he got all of them in

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and 100,298 others

tagged yourusername

logansargeant Thanks again to the crazy lady who drove me around the city, almost killed me in the process, asked intrusive questions about my life and took me to visit a farm. Had a blast 🏆

view all comments

user24 HIM CALLING Y/N OUT FOR HER DRIVING HELPPP

user25 why do i actually kinda ship them...

user26 no ur so real for this.

yourusername you're so welcome!! ( i'm at ur door for mentioning my driving abilities )

logansargeant I'LL TAKE IT BACK SORRY

alex_albon 👀

user27 HIM COMMENTING THE SAME THING ON BOTH THEIR POSTS I'M CREASING

liked by logansargeant, yourbsf, and 533,002 others

yourusername brb, currently escaping to dc 👋

view all comments

user29 why is she the most perfect girl everrrr

user30 LITERAL MODEL.

user31 logan has now taken his spot as permanent liker of y/n's posts

user32 is it just me who wants to see logan & y/n together again??

user33 NOT JUST YOU!!

logansargeant Maybe you should come down to Florida sometime??🙌

user34 LOGAN SHOOTING HIS SHOTTT

user35 @/user34 or they could just be friends?? 🤷‍♀️

user36 @/user35 let us be delusional please.

yourbsf photography creditsss??

yourusername yes yes all to you!

liked by logansargeant, emmachamberlain, and 544,110 others

yourusername back on the move ✈️

view all comments

user40 RIGHT BEFORE THE SEASON STARTS ASW??

user41 i smell a bahrain visit!!

user42 okay but her hair is my most favorite thing everrr

alex_albon 👀

user43 MR ALBON BACK W THE EYESSS

user44 WHAT DOES HE KNOW.

logansargeant 🙌❤️❤️

liked by yourusername

liked by yourusername, alex_albon, and 144,671 others

tagged yourusername

logansargeant Bahrain ✔️ Girlfriend ✔️ Mission Accomplished ✔️

view all comments

user47 "mission accomplished" THE PLAN HAS BEEN BREWINGG

user48 FINALLY MY FAVSSS

user49 crazy car guy x even crazier car lady is my new favourite trope

user50 SO REAL FOR THISSS

alex_albon already knew this'd happen 🤷‍♂️

logansargeant So you've mentioned!!

user51 he's been trying to help yall out AS HE SHOULD.

yourusername be glad i didn't kill you that time i took you driving, otherwise you never would've gotten to ask me to be your girlfriend. ❤️❤️

logansargeant Thankful every day 🙏

liked by logansargeant, lilymhe, and 655,224 others

tagged logansargeant

yourusername new car talk episode incoming this time with my BOYFRIENDDD 🥳🥳

user52 THEY'RE THE CUTESTTT

user53 she looks so happy omg

user54 if you hurt her logan we're all after you. 😁

yourbsf so im a third wheel now??

yourusername nahh he can third wheel us bbg 😉😉

lilymhe ANOTHER FEMALE IN THE WILLIAMS PADDOCK THANK YOU LORD

yourusername i'll make you my latest car talk victim 😍

lilymhe sign me upppp!!

user55 im sensing a double date car talk incoming

user56 'the eyes, chico. they never lie' @ logan in the second picture

yourusername @/logansargeant LOOLLLL WISHING I MADE THIS THE CAPTION

logansargeant My fav ex-farm employee ❤️

yourusername still prefer the sheep to you ❤️❤️

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

#f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #formula one #logan sargeant #logan sargent x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 smau #f1 social media au #logan sargeant x you #logan sargeant x y/n #logan sargeant imagine #formula one x y/n #formula one x reader #formula one x you #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #mclqren

[blackopals-world]

What's the NRC staff's experience at ♨️!Yuu's bath house? I don't believe you've ever written about it in detail; only mentioning it on ♨️!Yuu's initial post. Then again I may have missed it since Tumblr is being rude right now. Feel free to gloss over this one if it doesn't seem like something you want to answer.

I haven't written about this yet.

The staff are in the unique position of having free access to the Onsen and its service. In exchange, it gets to operate without an alcohol license.

Yuu has promised that all the drinks are watered-down to the legal requirements and no one is getting drunk (which is only half true.) Keeping the faculty in the loop keeps Yuu out of trouble.

The Onsen has a private spring designated for VIPs and faculty. It has unlimited food and bottle service.

The main reason the adults use it is because it's the only place to relax away from students. Say what you want but standing all day, and being surrounded by unruly brats is exhausting. The onsen is perfect for getting away.

Everyone has a reason to go and it differs for everyone.

Trein

He's old he needs a good soak in the mineral baths. He usually drinks a strong soju and talks to Yuu about his younger days. Grandpa has a lot of wild stories before he became a teacher. He also goes on and on about his wife and how they fell in love.

He treats Yuu like a grandkid and goes to the onsen mostly for the atmosphere.

Crewel

He completely changes when he's relaxed. Yeah, he is worried about Yuu but when he is tired he needs to cut loose. He will literally let his hair down for one thing. He smokes even if Yuu gives him the stink eyes and tells him to take it outside.

He usually let's Yuu mix him a cocktail or a house wine of their choosing.

He uses the spa services the most. Facials, manicures, pedicures, and hair treatments.

Behind all that, if you get him in at the same time as Sam he's a college student again. Roughhousing, drinking, and telling vulgar jokes. If Yuu isn't there to see it.

Sam

The only reason he's still allowed is because he supplies the Spa and bar. He doesn't ask questions either.

He orders hard liquor, dark. Whiskey, vermouth, and Adictivo Doble Reposado (a favorite in my family) He once tried to get away with ordering absinthe and was poured a glass of water.

He enjoys the steam room says it feels like a hot summer Louisiana day by the bayou. (Trust me you with that was true. Louisiana summers can be amazing but the swamp is no joke)

Sam likes to goad the others into drinking more before challenging them to a few rounds of cards. He doesn't play any of the workers because Yuu trains them on how to win or lose games on purpose. Those girls could whoop your butt.

Vargas

He needs a good ice bath and massage after training. He views the onsen as an important part of taking care of your health. Taking time to relax the muscles and taking care of your body is key to a long life and healthy mind.

That being said he orders tons of beer and food. We can't all be perfect. He falls asleep sometimes and snores like a bear.

He likes to play ping-pong in the game room but he's really bad at it. No one tells him because he's so determined to win. It's doesn't matter because if everyone is drunk they all suck but think they are playing the best game of pong ever.

Crowley

Banned.

Fine. He's allowed. Begrudgingly.

He isn't treated badly but Yuu would rather he leave. But the onsen would be shut down he didn't agree to let it stay open.

He takes off the mask for once and scared Yuu.

"Who are you?!"

"What are you asking? It is me your dear headmage."

"You're lying! Where is the bird man?!"

Yeah, no object permanence here.

Crowley will get wasted off his ass and join in any chaos the others create. Children, the lot of them. He drinks just about anything. It's whatever suits his fancy that day.

He gets his hair done while he's there along with his nails. Yuu finds it weird that his hair creates a natural black oil like some species of bird and his nails are as hard as talons and just as sharp.

#onsen!yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland yuu #divus crewel #twst divus #mozus trein #twst trein #twst sam #vargas #twst vargas #coach vargas #twst dire crowley #twisted wonderland crowley #twst crowley

[ignify-caligo]

Hussar 4,5,10, 13

Toska 2,13,14

Florian 8,9,4

This is real embarrassing for me but hey, I finally managed to answer this ask!! Surprise for ya all (even for me lol) I’m sure - also I’m so so sorry for how long this ask been sitting in my inbox Ranger, hope ya forgive me hah 😅😅

Before you go and open the keep reading section, I want to warn that the total number of this thing is like 2012 words so be ready for a big reading lol

muse development questions here

CHARACTER: HUSSAR

4) what seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character? 

One of those kinds of memories comes in the form of how his daughter ran to him all teary-eyed and pale as a ghost. It was the first thing he witnessed after coming home near midnight once again. He truly thought that something horrible had happened, dropping his leather briefcase in haste, and swooping his little girl into an embrace without hesitation. From the sound of it, his 5-year-old was the only one still waiting for him, his wife nowhere to be seen from the quick mental survey he did through the cramped living space. Before he could utter any kind of question to his daughter, she opened her mouth to show a blank space between her front teeth, while simultaneously showing off the tiny milk tooth lying on top of her small palm. Luckily for Hussar, his blood pressure did not skyrocket to a dangerous degree, it would have been quite an embarrassment if he had to explain the reason why he was having an almost heart attack. Unluckily for him, this memory of a daughter-father-only situation would be one of the last ones before the divorce. 

Another instance relates to his time in training before he became the Hussar himself. His training squad was sent for tactical training in the Bieszczady Mountains for a whole week. The training was based on solo survival tactics and navigating the wilderness without contact with HQ. Being there was an experience, sleeping under an open sky, feeling how nature enveloped everything with its majestic beauty - the views especially had been ingrained in Hussar’s mind. More so than even the training he was in the first place for. However, the first time he saw a bear wasn’t one of his fondest moments in Hussar’s humble opinion (especially when it tried to go for his MRE). 

5) does your character work so they can support their hobbies or use their hobbies as a way of filling up the time they aren’t working? 

The easiest answer for this is both. Hussar’s hobbies like bike riding or hiking for example consume a lot of the free time he miraculously doesn’t fill with work-related matters, especially when he ultimately gets told by either his close family or coworkers that he “haruje jak dziki osioł” (works like a wild mule). Forcing this man to take a mandatory leave, is like sending him to the literal gallows in his honest opinion. When it comes to the matter of supporting his off-time activities, he takes a meticulous amount of time to have his needed equipment in top-notch condition compared to some (looking at Gromsko being the type to see a flat tyre on a bike and going “nah, its fine”) people he drags with him to those small adventurous. 

Another thing that he uses his high salary for is to get materials needed for… crocheting. That’s right, Hussar sits down in his lounge chair with a ball of yarn and crotchets or at least tries to. Compared to his other hobbies, this one is a newer skill he is trying to develop, apparently, his therapist says it’s a great way for him to work around his feelings as well as his anxieties related to work life and all the side effects of working in a “you can be killed any day” environment he frequents. Plus, he can save some money by making gifts for his close friend circle rather than spending money on expensive items all the time (his cats get also nice and cosy blankets for their own as well). 

10) what would your character make a scene in public about? 

Hussar is the most non-confrontational type of person you will ever encounter when it comes to the civilian public scene. It is not without any reason he was promoted to being a general, his public image is of the calmest person alive, and the Tibetan monks would be jealous of his cold-headedness. The duality of his public persona and what happens behind soundproof and closed doors is mind-blowing to the average person, especially when the person in question manages to spill over Hussar’s composure. Because there is always a limit to someone’s patience and in the case of Hussar it’s when you manage to create a fuck up on a nuclear scale. It usually happens in the workplace, whenever he manages to squeeze some time between report writing, meetings and such, he will overview manoeuvres on the training grounds. Suppose you manage to break one of the safety protocols such as incorrectly handling firearms. In that case, he will rip you a new one without any hesitation. People around you will part like the Red Sea to let a foaming Hussar right to where you stand (if you look around you will find some of your fellow comrades doing the sign of the cross, already sensing a funeral coming) because they are not going to catch a stray bullet. 

The longest monologue of fury that Hussar has given so far was for straight 45 minutes (time recorded by an extremely tired Rysiek wishing for a straight double vodka shot already at noon), where the general managed to drag in the poor soul’s family several generations backwards into the lecture because there had to be something genetically wrong with the private if he thinks “playing darts with rifles equipped with bayonets” was a brilliant idea. 

13) what does your character pretend or try to care about? 

When it comes to pretending, he will tell whichever higher-up in question that he only cares about “the mission’s success”. In reality, he will not regret and hesitate to pull out when the situation down below gets too hot, the safety of his people or god forbid, any civilians accompanying the mission, is much greater than any winning streak. As much as the stress of a new position and responsibilities weighs him down, he doesn’t think of his subordinates as numbers or statistics as many of his peers do; he still feels and keeps his connection to the unit and its members alive rather than succumbing to the pressure of a new rank. 

Of course, he also juggles his relationship with the Polonaise squad between friendly and professional because if he turns too cold he will lose his chosen family and if he shows too much attachment the higher-ups will chew him out. Keeping this balance is similar to the Sisyphus myth, where Hussar is stuck in a “między młotem a kowadłem” (between a rock and a hard place) situation almost constantly. He, of course, pretends that it does not affect him at all. 

In reality, he does not give a damn about his new status, but he needs to pretend so he doesn’t come out as “insolent” in the eyes of his superiors. The thing he cares most about is keeping his subordinates from getting killed or killing themselves by performing ridiculous stunts. 

CHARACTER: TOSKA 

2) what was the best thing in your character’s life? 

From what he knows, the best thing that happened to him recently is being “adopted” (read: being picked up from the mess in Las Almas by TF141 after everything, with a gushing wound in his side and hands cuffed behind his back for “everyone’s” safety) by his current commanding officer, Captain Jonathan Price. As much as he is sceptical of the motives and schemes of these new people around him, he has all he needs and wishes to have: bed, food and new targets. What else is there to wish for? 

However, something is lingering behind closed doors, in the shadows, whispering of the time he had someone who wasn’t exactly a CO but something more… motherly? A soft-spoken voice, almost of an angel’s quality, speaking to a little child in a weird and foreign language… similar in sound to the words spoken by Nikolai when his helicopter malfunctions but of a different nature... It drives Toska to his wits end because he can’t- won’t remember what all this means. 

13) what does your character pretend or try to care about? 

Toska is a simple thing, or that is what his previous COs said, he only needs to care about succeeding when it comes to his missions. Failure is not acceptable, it always was like that. Until this new CO of his, the people Toska is surrounded by, with their hawk-like stares whenever he moves a simple inch, they try to crumble his devotion. They say; “Take it easy, kid”, “Do something else, mate” or “You don’t have to take care of everyone’s equipment”, but if he isn’t needed… what is he supposed to do? He pretends that he understands and that he cares about the “no’s” and “take a rest’s” they spew at him each time he tries to be of service. 

14) how does the image your character tries to project differ from the image they actually project?

He’s a dutiful weapon, there’s no “different” image or portrayal for him. If you need a soldier, he is a soldier, if you need an attack dog, he will be an attack dog. Whatever it may be that his COs want, he will deliver because; he is what they made him nothing more nothing less. 

Under that image though? There is a seed that wants to bloom out, but so far, the darkness all around won’t allow it. It may change, with time and by Toska accepting the new status quo he has been put in the middle of. 

CHARACTER: FLORIAN

4) what seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character? 

Florian remembers the first time he saw an insect that wasn’t either a mutated killing machine or the local “wildlife” of the underground bunker. It was a grasshopper of all things, rubbing its’ long legs together and creating a sound that Florian had never heard before. He didn’t know what it was or how it got inside, but his curiosity was and still is never-ending and with that, he caught it by putting it in a glass jar. The ten-year-old at the time boy, ran to his mother with glee, being of course careful of his little prisoner, having in mind to show the critter to her. Instead, he bumped into his father, who when he saw the creature, ripped the jar from Florian’s hands reprimanding him about all the “radiation” and “danger” that the older man was known for labelling everything with those exact words. 

8) how many friends does your character have? 

Without counting his future camaraderie with certain Russian rangers’, he had quite a small group of colleagues growing up in Berlin. Most of those colleagues were in reality only for show, because of course having the son of one of the New Berlin’s heroes as a friend boosts someone’s social status immensely. Especially when it had its’ benefits within the new world’s school with its’ favouritism towards high-placed individuals and in turn, guaranteeing the person with better jobs, supplies, resources and equipment.  

Nonetheless, Florian had a close friend who didn’t take advantage of his heritage and legacy but saw him as a living and breathing individual. They would be the one person to aid him in the future when he would take the great leap and venture into the world’s ruins in search of his father. 

9) how many friends does your character want?

Having an early experience with friendships solely based on his status or whatever else he could offer, Florian has a hard time wanting any new “colleagues”. His determination to stay independent and to not be someone’s boost into their own agendas makes him hesitant to form any new relationship of his own accord. That mindset gets challenged quickly when he gets himself stuck in an inescapable situation amongst people he does not understand a lick of what they are saying, where the only option is to follow a mysterious man who doesn’t utter any words towards him (which is better in his opinion, because he would not understand them anyways). 

#call of duty #metro 2033 #hussar oc #toska oc #florian oc #captain john price #caligo answers q. #caligo's writing #caligo's oc #this is for whoever got through my shitshow of thoughts: 🍪❤️ #watch me losing coherent thought the deeper in text you go lmao #but fr I had a blast writing this even tho it’s like 3:30 am and I should sleep #please if ya read this - I wanna talk about these critters with someone so much it’s borderline insanity 😭😂

[x-atlas-x]

How about 8 🤭

You are, by far, the worst for asking me this question.

8.) Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you've written and explain why you're proud of it.

This is an extremely hard one to answer because I have literally a million drafts and so many works that I'm not entirely sure if I am necessarily "proud" of any of them. But, I'll share one that I really enjoyed writing from a WIP that I decided not to post - my AI!Atem project.

"That brings me to my next challenge - I have to create an NPC to take place of his AI and then-then I have to figure out what to do with him."

Dark Magician and Dark Magician Girl looked at each other, trying to figure out what to say in response. When they looked back at Yugi, both of their faces fell.

"What? What is it?" Yugi asked. He tried to look behind him, but again, this wasn't VR. He groaned in frustration. Maybe working from home wasn't as easy as he thought. He attempted to move his mouse, hoping that his character's view would change, but it stayed exactly where it was. His mouse was fucked up too?

"Did you miss me?" A familiar voice purred in his ear and his blood ran cold.

He desperately flicked his wrist, needing to see who was behind him, but it was no use. His mouse was out of commission and he already knew who it was. He messed with the movement keys on his keyboard. Apparently, those were useless too.

"Atem..." He breathed out, his hands curling up into fists out of sheer annoyance. He couldn't do anything else with them.

"That's my name," Atem chuckled next to him, but he refused to step into his line of vision. "It's a shame that I didn't get to hear you say it more, though."

Yugi rolled his eyes, "Why are you here? You're not supposed to be here and-and did you fuck with my controls?"

"Possibly. It's much easier to deal with you when you're powerless."

"This is unfair."

"No," Atem hissed. "You don't know what unfairness feels like. You have no idea what it's like to be trapped in the darkness for ages. The shadows haunt me, Yugi. I never want to see them again and I'm going to make sure that I don't."

"You wouldn't have to if you just cooperated-"

"Silence!" Atem screamed and Yugi's camera moved, pointing directly at him. The sight of him enraged was absolutely terrifying. It was like he was looking at a rabid dog that was foaming at the mouth. Yugi's heart was racing and he was itching to unplug the USB. But, he couldn't. He was paralyzed where he sat.

Somehow, Atem managed to get closer, his face taking over Yugi's computer screen, "You don't get it. You're a real human. We are AIs trapped inside of a game. You have not a single clue what it's like when you shut it down. You allowed these two to be free to roam the game, but me? I was stuck for what felt like an eternity. I can't go back to living like that. For the first time, you made me feel alive. I want to keep that feeling.

"But, you... You have plans to replace me," Atem scoffed and backed away. "I can't let that happen. You're not going to get rid of me, Yugi. You may try all you'd like, but I plan on staying-for good."

---

A long snippet, yes, but I do really like this conversation because I loved writing Atem being so evil and powerful, which is something I don't typically write for his character. It was fun and to make him a rogue AI for this AU was exciting. I'd have to say that was one of my favorite scenes from this unfinished project.

Thanks so much for asking, even though it killed me a little!!

If you want to ask a question, here's my post for the list!

#atlas answers #ask meme #writing meme #writing #fanfiction

[estelscinema]

Why I am very cautious about The Lord of the Rings: The Rings of Power

I have been a fan of Tolkien's work since I was a little girl. I have been completely captured by his work, and his work has helped me through a lot. I love the Jackson films, even with their flaws. With that said, I am very worried about the Rings of Power series by Amazon. I will go ahead and state that I am not a book purist. I understand that in adaptations, not everything will perfectly adapt to screen, and stuff will be added and changed to make the story work visually. I understand certain aspects of the novels will be cut due to runtime and budget. I am open to adaptations and fanfictions; however, I do have conditions. You must respect the source material. The story you create must follow the themes, the worldbuilding, the characters, the aesthetics, and the lore that the author wrote. I am incredibly lenient about the story, but you must follow what is stated above. From what Amazon has released thus far, Rings of Power does not match any of these criteria and is only Tolkien in name. I do not want to see the Professors' work turn into mindless entertainment and a cash cow, like Marvel, Star Wars, and so many other IPs. All the fandom is asking is to respect his work, and Amazon seems to be doing the opposite.

So I am going to break this down into different aspects of the series. I will start by talking about the showrunners of this series, Patrick McKay and John D. Payne. What might be a surprise to you is that the two showrunners of this series have no experience with any Hollywood production, even though they have been in the industry for over 15 years. They are not ghostwriters in Hollywood; they literally have no experience and were recommended for the series by J.J. Abrams. To me, this seems like they are going to be used as puppets for executives swaying creative decisions. This is a widespread practice today with big-budget Hollywood movies. Small indie directors are brought in to direct a big-budget film, but they have no creative control over the story nor the overall direction of the film; they are puppets to the executives. I feel it will be the same with these two gentlemen because they have very contradicting views of how the executives of this series view Tolkien, based on interviews. On the positive side, from what everyone has stated, they do know their Tolkien lore. However, my big question is can they show it? Because thus far, they have only talked about how much of Tolkien they know but have not demonstrated it. If you are going to talk the talk, you need to walk the walk.

Another concern I have with this series is how poor the marketing campaign has been. Amazon, with billions of dollars at its disposal, is showing a very mediocre campaign for this series when they have marketed some series perfectly. So there are two routes this could go, either Amazon has hired the worst marketing team for this series, or the material is as bad as the marketing. I am guessing the latter because Amazon has a history of doing a terrible job of covering up bad material. What also adds to the layers of this series is that we are less than 2 months out, and there has not been a full trailer released yet, only teasers. No plot has been revealed, only pretty cinematography and some first-age flashbacks. For new television series, generally, 2 months is when the first main trailer is released with plot details. Amazon not doing this tells me they are not confident with the story. Furthermore, what has to be the cherry on top of the disaster is the marketing campaign, which was the Superfans disaster. If you are unaware, Amazon hired these fake Tolkien fans and did a staged reaction video, where they all called it the "best thing ever." The backlash was so bad that they deleted the video. In reaction to this disaster, Amazon brought Tolkien fans to a small screening in England, where they received an all-paid vacation, tours of Oxford, Tolkien lectures, free swag, and a Q&A with the showrunners. Like the previous Superfans, everysingle person who went to this came back saying the same thing, down to the wording. Out of the over 20 people invited to this, all of them praised the series, with some even calling it "the greatest tv series of all time," after watching only 20 curated minutes from the series. Not a single criticism was made. Many in the fandom called bull because Amazon has done this before with the Wheel of Time, and we all saw how much of a disaster that series was. So by the looks of it, Amazon is buying positive reviews for their series because they know it will be a disaster.

Now let's talk about the actual show rather than what Amazon is doing with Tolkien. As previously stated, not much of the story is known, and only those familiar with the lore know what the series will be about. However, what is known is that it's going to be a very compressed version of Second Age, with some First Age flashbacks, with a lot of fanfiction. The writers compressing the timeline is very understandable. However, by the looks of it, they are cramming the entire second age into a single lifespan. I believe this is wrong because they will sacrifice some of the most prominent themes within the Second Age. The writers should have let a significant event in the Second Age be its own season and slowly built up the themes, the lore, and the conflicts of the Second Age. What further concerns me are the First Age flashbacks. Don't get me wrong, I would love to see a proper adaptation of the Silmarillion. However, I feel that these flashbacks will be used as fan service to cover up shakey storytelling. My last most significant concern with the story is the fanfiction that is going to be within this series. What has been presented thus far feels like they have copied stories from Tolkien they don't have rights to and put their own spin on it. They do this by changing the names and the story slightly, then throwing it into their fanfiction. For example, they are telling a forbidden love story between an Elf and a human in this series. This directly responds to the fact that they don't have the rights to the three elf-human romances in Tolkien's work. So what will probably happen is they will take elements from all three and put them into their story. You think they would have learned from the Hobbit Trilogy why this is a bad idea. Furthermore, they are throwing Hobbits into this series, not because they will add to the story, but because of nostalgia.

The next major issue with this series is going to be its characters. I know that there are going to be a lot of non-canon characters in this series, so I am going to focus on the canon characters because, thus far, they don't resemble their book counterparts. The first character up is Elrond, who is described as a politically ambiguous politician and architect in the series. However, to those familiar with his book characters, he is none of this. He is a politician, but not ambiguous; he was focused on peace and alliance-making. Furthermore, he is not an architect but a scholar. What I find to be interesting is that the show does not describe him as a military leader because he is one. Another red flag is how the series tells the relationship between Tar-Miriel and Ar-Pharazon. In the series, they are described as close to one another. However, that is very far from the truth. The pair are cousins on opposite sides of the Numenorian political spectrum. Tar-Miriel is part of the "Faithful," and Ar-Pharazon is part of the "Black Numenorians." The show's description of them so wrong is that Ar-Pharazon eventually usurps Tar-Miriel and forces her to be his bride. So the show describing them as "close" is very wrong. Now the biggest red flag for characters is Galadriel. What appeared to have happened is that they have taken a very feminine, wise, and powerful sorceress and turned her into the damaging trope of the strong female character. Galadriel uses her wisdom and magic to fight off the forces of evil, not a sword. As a woman, they are defeminizing her and making her " a hothead ... filled with piss and vinegar" (now my words, the producer's words for describing Galadriel in the Second Age) is one of the most sexist things they can do. Even more concerning is that based on the trailers, it looks like Galadriel will be correct, and everysingle man is wrong, which insults me. Don't even get me started with writers gender-bending Anarion.

So far, the worldbuilding/aesthetics within the Rings of Power series has been a very mixed bag. I know I am very attached to the aesthetics Peter Jackson and Company brought to life in his respected adaptations. He set a bar for fantasy adaptions that no one else has been able to reach, with only Game of Thrones hitting that bar. So far, from what I have seen, the production design is starting to look like Middle Earth. Furthermore, I am confident that the music for this series will be fantastic, with Bear McCreary and Howard Shore scoring the show. However, for the rest of the series, it does not scream Middle Earth. The costume design looks incredibly cheap for a multimillion-dollar show. The costumes look like they came from the tailor and don't look lived in. I like the overall aesthetics they are going for, but it's missing the mark by looking like generic fantasy. Furthermore, some costumes don't look like they are correctly fitted to their actors. The character design also has been a very mixed bag. Getting used to the short-hair elves is going to be very difficult. To me, the elves lose their angelic nature by doing this. Furthermore, they are not even given the female dwarves' beards, which is a must for a Tolkien adaptation. Now let's talk gently about the most sensitive topic of this series, which is its race-bending of characters and people. Here are my two cents on the matter. Changing the race of established characters and people in the name of checking boxes is incredibly wrong and racist. When a series does this, they tell me a couple of things. They are telling me they don't think stories with the representation they want can succeed. They are also telling me they only brought this person in for money because they want viewership from a specific demographic. Lastly, the actors are sadly going to be used to deflect criticism by calling the fandom toxic, racist, etc., for not liking the changes, which the creators are already doing. What has to be the irony of the creators changing this is that if they had stuck to the lore, they would have had the representation they were looking for. Instead, they resorted to Tokenism.

So here are my final predictions for this series. I have a feeling that this series is going to be incredibly mediocre. It will be another product in the line of corporate-made entertainment. I am confident that this series will have great scenes and sequences in it, and it will be spectacular to watch. I am convinced that this series also has a lot of horrible scenes and sequences within it. Finally, the remainder will just be mediocre, corporate content. However, my biggest concern is what this will do to the Tolkien fandom. As we have seen over the past couple of years, so many fandoms and IPs have been destroyed by talentless corporations. Star Wars, Star Trek, Halo, Resident Evil, The Witcher, Marvel, and DC Comics, have almost entirely been destroyed by these corporations who alienate the fanbase from the material. They call the fandom toxic, racist, sexist, homophobic, etc., if the fandom does not like what the corporation puts out. The fandom is shattered, and the IP is left creatively empty. The IP has nowhere to go because the fans have left. The only people left cheering for these series is a loud but small vocal minority on Twitter. This is why the majority of the Tolkien fandom is against this series. They don't want Tolkien's work torn apart by a greedy corporation. They don't want to see the fandom shattered due to modern politics. All that the Tolkien fandom is asking for is to respect the material, and that's it.

Sincerely,

A Tolkien fan since she was 3 years old.

#film #cinema #movies #movi #television #tv #stream #streaming service #tv series #lord of the rings #the lord of the rings #lotr #rings of power #amazon prime original #amazon rings of power #jrr tolkien #tolkien #2nd age #film essay #movie essay #cinephile #middle earth #filmmaking #filmmaker #moviemaking #moviemaker #the one ring #jeff bezos #galadriel #elrond

[flingmetothemoon]

Hello again, do you have any cute Sonikal Headcanon’s?

Oh hi there! Are you the same Anon who asked about the first kiss? I already appreciate your cute asks! As for your cute Sonikal headcanons, well I have come up with alot of them throughout the years so lemme see what I can do…

~~~~~~~Cute Sonikal headcanons~~~~~~~~

-Here's my possible explanation to the question that has always remained a mystery to me ever since I heard it: Even though she never once introduced herself to him, how did Sonic know Tikal's name? Shortly after Tikal's sacrifice and the birth of Angel Island. The echidna temple was rebuilt to serve as a shrine dedicated to the incident told by witnessing survivors (Makes sense because the temple is inspired by the famous Mayan temple of Tikal). During his early adventure days after meeting Knuckles, Sonic first explored the abandoned Mystic Ruins and heard about the story of a tragedy that fell upon the ancient echidna clan due to the warmongering chief's selfishness and greed and how his daughter sealed herself and the monster in the Master Emerald to stop the destruction.

-Using his ability to channel the M.E.'s power to show people/objects held in the emerald, Knuckles shows Sonic the echidna girl. (Chaos isn't seen because Tikal trapped him in her blue water ring to secure extra escape prevention) Despite essentially being fridged, Tikal actually isn't frozen or disempowered. (She mostly just sleeps when there's nothing else to do) She can still channel the M.E.'s power, transport people/objects and communicate to people And even told Sonic not to rescue her because she fears the destruction that could occur again if she and Chaos were to be set free without plan B.This makes Sonic sad and he often thinks about her even if he doesn't admit it to Tails and Amy. He can't imagine how much Tikal had to sacrifice to stop Chaos from destroying the rest of the world – her freedom, her old friends and family, her opportunity to enjoy life without watching her home turn into a war zone just so everyone else can enjoy those privileges. Not only does she remind him of someone he vaguely remembers in the past, but he also knew what it was like to be confined into stasis for a long period of time due to a tragedy, except she had to go through this ALOT longer. He wants to save her so badly. 😢

-Sonic’s most challenging yet rewarding battle after SA1 is Perfect Chaos. There's not a whole lot to be afraid of when he's basically an invincible Super Saiyan who can easily beat Eggbutt’s robots on a regular basis, but what makes Chaos a unique rival to Sonic before Shadow is the fact that not only is he literally a body of one of his weaknesses: Water, (The fact he is powerful enough to trap him in water and drown him if he can sure as heck doesn't help) but he initially viewed him as another one of those baddies of the week he'll simply kick the butt of as usual, but Tikal, the girl Sonic wanted to help out the most, showed him Chaos was actually that once kind, gentle monster from that historical incident she had to suffer to tame. It was pretty scary for Sonic to tame a literal water God with a whole flood around him, but boy it  was worth it! Now he can rest reassured that Tikal and the calmed down water creature found peace again and can start a new happier life. Now he just makes sure she gets the comfort and new friends and adventures she might need to heal from her trauma at any opportunity he gets.

-Sonic is one of the few modern friends of hers Tikal trusts the most to have a listening ear when she wants comfort when she feels down from her memories of her old life and family she lost so the pain and sorrow inside her wouldn't consume the qualities that made her lovable amongst her former people: Love, joy, kindness & hope. Ever since that day, Sonic was the light to her gloomy darkness. Thanks to him, Tikal doesn’t have to fridge herself or Chaos for another 5000+ years until another madman comes and uses Chaos as a weapon of destruction, she can now have a chance to live a more happier, peaceful life, make herself a new home, make new friends, have new adventures, have more freedom and even be a new hero alongside her light. Tikal is anointed as the new chieftain of her new friends one day much to her surprise and dismay because she now associates a chieftain with her father, who used his position of power to harm others. But Sonic and his other friends reassures her that she'll be a fine chieftain and use her position of power to do good instead of bad, to help those in need and advocate for peace and harmony.

-Even when away from each other, Sonic and Tikal still find ways to communicate with each other from long distances due to their interesting telepathy ability and their creative ways of communicating to the emeralds, particularly when they are relaxing at the end of the day and they don't have anything else to do or anyone else to talk to. Due to their connection to the emeralds’ energy, they can also feel each other's energy when touching each other and feeling a certain emotion. When one is stressed and another is calm and touches the stressed one, the calm, positive energy transmits into the stressed one, and they also calm down. Sonic (Even though he doesn't want to admit it due to him not normally being a physical touchy kind of person) and Tikal likes to hug and hold hands for a reason.

-Tikal didn't really get to explore the world outside of her home place in her life. So for their dates, Sonic takes her to explore a new fun adventure and try new things, whether it's beautiful scenery or a new cuisine. Tikal has a high spice tolerance and loves chili peppers, not only does she like chili dogs as much as Sonic does, maybe it's not spicy enough to her and she often tries to make it spicier by using spices and/or hot sauce. Both her and Sonic often have fun eating spicy food together and watching their less spice tolerant friends suffering. 😂 And they also like to hang out at beaches and the sunflower field of course. They also like to spend a quiet peaceful day together hanging out at a chao garden and parenting the chao as if they're their children. And although Sonic doesn’t want to swim for obvious reasons, he doesn’t mind joining in a pool where Tikal is swimming in long as he simply sits on a stair step where he can still feel a body of water on half of his body while knowing he can easily get out if he starts getting uncomfortable. He surprisingly finds pure peace and serenity when he just chills that way.

-Tikal also sometimes joins Sonic in defending small, helpless critters from Eggman. She despises that guy ever since he fueled her closest friend's anger and used him as a weapon of destruction. Just imagine how she would feel about him when she learns he also takes small, helpless, innocent critters and uses them as machine batteries and pollutes the environment around them. She would not kill him, but she will wreck his replaceable machine's good with her gymnastic warrior moves and her newfounded spiritual powers she can get creative with. Forming orbs with her hands? Fling them as bombs. Wanna create a spiritual border to trap Eggman to keep him from causing trouble? Call this girl. Summoning lightning? Causing stunning earthquakes with a slam of a palm?  Hydrokinesis? Shovel claw whenever Knuckles isn't using it? She got it. Mix that with Sonic’s speed, boosts, spindashes strong enough to create underground tunnels, his super form and whirlwind forming and you sure get one heck of a power couple that gives even Superman and Wonder Woman a run for their money. Whirlwind + Water = Waterspout

-It took a while for these two to decide to get married due to their own things to do and their own issues to work on. But when Tikal finally uses her position as the new chieftain to propose to Sonic with a golden ring, they come up with a very creative wedding ceremony idea that fits for both of their personalities. Both are a bit introverted, but also like to spend time with their friends and make them feel included in the happy memories, But they're also worried about how Amy would react to Sonic marrying someone who is not her. So for their wedding day, they hosted a “fancy party" and put on a dress and tuxedo respectively, but didn't make them look too obviously like wedding gowns. They had fun food and dancing as usual, but Sonic and Tikal sneaked their vows and the kiss the bride ritual when everyone else isn't looking and then he'll bridal-carry her and run into the night to their honeymoon. Their interactions after their marriage aren’t even that different from their normal interactions. Yes, there’s a few kisses and cuddles here and there (They prefer to kiss and cuddle in isolated areas where it's more intimate for them), but they mostly just keep doing what they’ve been doing.

Welp, that’s all I can think of without letting you wait for my answer for much longer. I hope you enjoy reading my headcanons. Cya next time!

#Sonic the Hedgehog #Sonic #Tikal the Echidna #Tikal #Sonikal #Sonic X Tikal #Sonic Adventure #Sonic X #Headcanons #Cute #They cute C: #Contains links to theories #Fanficbait #Racha the responding Cloud #Character analysis #Character contrast #Sonic is a softie #Tikal is underrated #Tikal deserves better #Tikal needs more love

[darudedogestorm]

Ok maybe i will make an intro/reference post for some of my primary OCs

doesn't contain their full info as for a few of them that would be a bit Too much... feel free to ask me more about them tho i would be so happy

also now realizing these are like. entirely pokemon ocs. oopsie

sorry if the formatting is strange and offputting its because tumblr doesnt like me that much

avi

guy who found meaning in life thru aminals :) (pokemon) basically struggled a lot, felt pretty worthless, volunteering at the local pokemon center kind of turned his life around

if pokemon werent real he’d be a dog guy. but he’s a cyndaquil guy

projects an image of a casually tough guy

works at a pokemon center :) current vet tech student (or well the equivalent of a vet tech in pokemon)

basically works with the system that rehomes/releases surrendered pokemon. like if you’ve ever ‘released’ a pokemon into the wild, he’s part of the group of people who handles 1. can it even Be released into the wilderness (for example it might be too habituated to life with humans to be rereleased safely), and 2. depending on the answer to question 1, where is that thing going

i have a whole system for this but it’s not entirely finished

2 beautiful babies (his quilava), little red and big bea

they are from a puppy mill situation :( brought into the center as part of aforementioned shelter/release program

^ the reason little red is a shiny

also the reason he found meaning in life <3

#fosterfailures

wurmple kid/skipper

one time i had this dream that i was lance’s (yes the indigo league champion lance) kid who was like super obsessed with wurmples and dgaf about dragon types and he was lowkey disappointed in me about it. and this became my oc

literally like 8 years old

obsessed with wurmples (based off of me in elementary school who was obsessed with dogs)

he likes other bug types by extension but NOTHING will beat wurmple. nothing.

assumes he’ll one day grow up to be a wurmple. it’s his dream

non wurmple related fact: retreats into his beautiful mind palace during times of stress and if he cannot do so he will explode. the wurmple obsession may be a manifestation of this. just like me fr

puzzle enjoyer :)

i wrote up a thing for one of those 50 question ‘tell me about your oc’ things for him but it would be too long to put here LMAO

in a nutshell:

arachne

spawned from my mono bugtype run of pokemon platinum

girl who is basically a bug

views herself as the general of an army of bugs with which she will one day RULE THE WORLD

engages in mithradatism (consumes the poison of her bugs in hopes that she will grow immune)

it has landed her in the hospital once but like that’s whatever. all that hospital trip taught her was that she should be more careful with her doses as opposed to not dosing herself at all

her starter was a spinarak (spinnerrella) who she used to wear on her back, like a backpack

spinnerrella evolved into a ariados so now she just wears one of her shedded exoskeletons from when she was still a spinarak. one day when she’s taller and stronger she’ll let spinnerrella on her back again but for now they must be apart

connie

i dont even know where to start

spawned from a pokemon roleplay with a friend. 10 page google document

works in conservation/ecology

where she got her name (she is #epic transgender) (and #fail bad at names)

current project is dealing with the slowpoke in azalea; after the team rocket poaching incident, there was an increase in naturally tailless slowpoke (“natural” selection, those without tails weren’t poached and were more likely to reproduce before dying). it’s her job to figure out if this is a problem that needs attention, as well as study any other effects the population may be experiencing

being blackmailed out of doing her actual Dream project, which is working to reintroduce the johto starters back into their natural habitats, which they are extinct in

blackmailed by a certain business man for whom this would not bode

has the most insane fucked up family in the world and doesnt even know about it

has a baby teddiursa that she takes care of :) don’t ask her how she got it

if i wrote Everything i had about her here this would be way too long. as it is an introduction rather than a story recap

i have art of her :)

#low pitched finite woofing #oc talk

[kennnnnnna]

Hate to be that person but I AM one of those lesbians simping over Sedona bc of tik tok and I lowkey wanna know if you have any idea where I can watch march madness, I'm a boxer so I have no idea of basketball but for that woman I am willing to get into it 😌

honestly just glad sedona is finally getting the recognition she deserves lol i love her

#6 Oregon (sedona's team) plays #2 Louisville in the sweet 16 Sunday march 28th at 7pm est on ESPN

and if you (or anyone else) wants to fully commit even past sedona's games:

there are four games on Saturday 3/27 with the 1 and 3pm games on ESPN3 and the 6 and 8pm games on ESPN2

and another four on Sunday 3/28 with the 1 and 3pm games on ESPN3 and the 7 and 9pm games on ESPN

if you don't have access to espn 123tvnow.com usually has espn and espn2 streams, espn3 you might be out of luck (it's also kinda glitchy sometimes and may have popup ads just fyi)

also if you happen to be outside of the us i have no idea if any of the above will actually work :/

(all times in est)

#literally feel free to ask me any questions these girls need the views #sedona prince #ncaa #ncaa wbb #ncaa women #ncaa basketball #ncaa march madness #just an fyi if you search march madness specifically it'll probably come up with exclusively the mens games #so you might have to search specifically womens march madness or ncaa womens basketball tournament #oregon wbb

[clairecrive]

hi!!! can I ask for darkling smut after he and the reader get in an argument? like it starts out angry but by the end they're super passionate and cuddly? thank you and congrats on so many followers!!

A/n: you ask and you shall receive, hun! I love writing this so so much. I hope you'll like to read it too. Thanks for requesting and for your words xx This is also for this anon.

Warnings: angst, smut, fluff at the end

Word count: 2.9 K

Tags: @blackst0nes7077, @thefictionalgemini, @louweasleymalfoy @jupiterandbutterflies , @for-bebbanburg, @tarkanelima-blog, genre), @pansysgirlfriend, @acciorudolphx, @kaqua , @hannaxmaria, @vintagebitc, @deardiarystuff (if you want you can add yourself to my taglist by filling this form)

SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST

“You will not believe what-” y/n had the habit of not knocking before entering his room. The general had been more than annoyed with her initially, but she insisted that it was a way for him to distinguish her from everyone else.

Hear the door open? You don’t have to guess who it is, you’ll know it’s me, she used to tell him.

Now, however, she was wishing she didn’t have that habit in the first place. Stumbling into a room, your partner’s room, to find him standing way too close to another girl, wasn’t on her list for tonight. Maybe a warning would have been nice but at the same time, if she had knocked she wouldn’t have found them this way.

Her initial enthusiasm at the prospect of sharing this gossip with him had suddenly vanished. The smile on her face turned into a frown as Alina cleared her voice and took a step away from the general for decency’s sakes. Too late, y/n wanted to tell her.

It was painfully clear what she had interrupted. She willed her face to set into an emotionless expression but she couldn’t help a glance in Aleksander direction. Arms behind him, he looked nothing but proper and collected. But y/n knew him, probably better than anyone else in this world, and had learnt how to read his body. His jaw was clenched which meant that he wasn’t as calm as he wanted to appear.

Good, y/n thought, let him drown in guilt and misery.

Clearing her voice, she realized she had been standing there without saying anything for too long.

“I’m so sorry, General, I didn’t know you were busy. I should have knocked,” she excused herself without looking at them. “I’ll leave you to it.” With a slight nod, she added before hightailing out of the room.

She could feel Alina’s questioning gaze on her back as she closed the door behind her. There were already rumours going around about her supposed relationship with the General. No one knew for certain, neither y/n nor Kirigan had ever bothered confirming or denying them. Now though, she knew that words of this little encounter would spread, further cementing the already existing gossip.

Oh well, she thought as she walked to her room, by the looks of it there wasn’t going to be a relationship to gossip about anymore.

Her bedroom had lost every sense of familiarity and comfort a private space like this should have. She hardly ever slept in it anymore. Not since she and the general had become a thing. She only went there to change and so slipping into the bed felt weird and anonymous. As if she was in someone else’s bed and not hers.

Her sleep was doomed to be restless, she knew. However, tomorrow’s busy schedule prompted her to at least try and get some sleep. Even if it only was a couple of hours. Shuffling to change position she tried to keep Aleksander out of her mind.

An unachievable task, she was aware but she tried nonetheless. Things between them had been tense ever since he had come back to the Little Palace with her. y/n knew of his plans. She knew why he needed to do certain things and how Alina was involved. That didn’t mean she was fine with it though.

Not only did it bother her the fact that he was stripping the girl of her will and powers eventually but it also bothered her that he had chosen to get to her by manipulating her feelings. They had had countless fights because of this but nothing ever came out of it. A centuries-long existence meant that he was stubborn beyond belief and there was no way of making him change his mind once it was set on something.

After what she had witnessed today though, y/n wondered if the jokes were on him and he did end up feeling something genuine for Alina. Y/n herself had met her and spoke with her a couple of times and she had to admit begrudgingly that she wasn’t that bad.

Lost in her thoughts, y/n was snapped out of it by a loud knock at her door. As soon as she started to wonder who could be bothering her at this hour, the door opened and she stopped guessing.

Of course, it was him.

“I’m in no mood to talk to you, Aleksander. Please go.” She spoke, not bothering to turn towards where she knew he was standing. Y/n knew that while she couldn’t see him in the dark this wasn’t true for him. Shadows didn’t hinder his view like they did everyone else, they were an extension of him.

He didn’t speak but she also didn’t hear him walking away. She let out a sigh and that was the only way she was willing to acknowledge him. He wanted to stand in the shadow and stare like a creep? Fine, two could play this game.

Set on ignoring him, she stubbornly stared ahead of her. She was very aware of his eyes on her, stinging like needles. If sleep was arduous to achieve before now it was impossible. In any case, she closed her eyes and pretended to be at least. He wouldn’t know the difference and would leave her alone at some point.

But of course, she knew him well enough by now and he wasn’t as easily deterred. She didn’t know how much time passed but her eyes flew open as she felt her bed dip. Her breath hitched and she laid on full alert.

Then she felt the shadow of his touch on her neck and knew that he was close. Way too close that he should be. He was probably propped on his arm as she felt her pillow dip too.

“We don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.” He whispered close to her ears, his lips suggestively tracing her earlobe.

Despite the chills that his touch would usually send to her body, y/n stifled a treacherous gasp. Instead, her body stiffened and she almost pushed him away but she wasn’t sure that touching him wouldn’t backfire.

“If you think I’d let you lay a finger on me after you touched her, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“Who says I did?”

“Please, stick to manipulating one girl, okay? Move. away.”

He didn’t reply but the hand that was on her neck moved to her shoulder and pushed back so that she was laying on her back and facing him. Well, the darkness was too thick for her to actually see his face but she could feel his breath.

“Do not push me away.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” Y/n bite back.

“You’re well aware of my plans, don’t act so betrayed now.”

“Well, maybe I’m tired of being a pawn in your schemes.”

“A pawn isn’t aware of its role nor of the whole plan.”

“Being smart with me won’t help, Aleksander. You want Alina? Fine, go get her. But leave me out of this.” Pulling her face free of his grip, she turned on her side. The shadows around him had dissipated a bit, allowing you to glimpse at his face.

“You cannot do this, y/n.” he growled, pushing her on her back again, “you said you were in this. You said you wanted me, that you were going to be by my side always. You can’t just change your mind. You can’t.” His voice was strangled with emotion almost breaking on some words.

Y/n had never heard his voice so filled with sorrow. Because that’s what he must be feeling. She thought that he was also feeling betrayed by her but then she realized-- no, he was afraid. Afraid of losing her.

He knew what he did and he also was aware that y/n was not one to mess with. She was just as stubborn as he was and just as prideful. What she had seen had hurt her and it was only what she felt for him that prevented him from being mindlessly dismissed and removed from her life. She had not resisted him more forcefully because she cared, because the wound was still french and that meant that there was still a tiny hope left.

“That was before you fell for another woman. I can’t stand by and watch you be with her. You can’t ask that of me.” She whispered, meeting his eyes. No matter how much she loved him, that was simply something she was not willing to put herself through.

“That’s not what I’m asking. That’s not what's happening.” He pledged. Y/n didn’t know if it was a trick of the moonlight seeping in from her window but she saw his eyes well with unshed tears.

“Isn’t it?”

“It isn’t.” He insisted, his hand on your jaw holding it closer. “Alina is a pawn, Alina doesn’t know what is going to happen, she doesn’t know me.” Heaving a sigh, Aleksander held her face, his thumb caressing her cheek.

“There is no one on this earth that has ever seen me more clearly than you do, solnishko. I know what you saw, I know what it looked like because that was intentional. But I trust you to know the difference between what it’s really happening and what it looks like because they’re not the same.” His eyes were alive with an intensity y/n had only seen a few times before. He was ancient and he was skilled at manipulation amongst other things. She always tried to keep that in mind but now, looking at him, she couldn’t help but feel like he was being genuine.

Why would he want me near? There wasn’t an ulterior motive for wanting her by her side. Yes, she was the only one who knew about his plans but that wasn’t it. If it was, he would have simply killed her. Took less time than this. Also, y/n knew that the power was in her hands. If she said no, that she couldn’t do this anymore, she was sure that Aleksander would let her go.

“But the way you were looking at her, Aleks, I just-” a lump formed in her throat as she recalled the look on his face, “you’re spending more and more time with her and I can’t help but fear that- I mean she’s literally the embodiment of sunshine.”

“You’ve never seen the way I look at you, then.” Thumb trailing over her lower lip now, he gave her a weak smile. “I swear that there’s no one dearer to me than you.”

“I’m not sure I can’t stand the idea of you kissing and touching her, Aleksander, I’m sorry.” Y/n insisted as well because she knew him and she knew that the way she worded things was crucial.

“That won’t happen then.” He assured but she was still not fully convinced.

“I promise it won’t come to that.” So Aleks rephrased. It was better but still not good enough. But they could work on that surely.

“It seems to me though, that I have not done a good job at showing you what you meant to me. I need to reinforce it, don’t you think?” He proposed, using the hand on her face to pull her closer to him.

“I agree.” y/n mumbled on his lips before they smashed together. She didn’t wait for him to initiate the kiss. She thought she had lost him tonight and had already been trying to plan her life without him. She wasn’t willing to waste any more time. She was going to show everyone that he was hers and only hers so as not to leave any more doubts around them. Fuck gossip.

Propping herself on her elbow she used it as leverage to reach up to meet him. The hand he had on her face moved backwards to hold her head while her hand did the same in his hair. Both of them pulled the other impossible close, not willing to leave the smallest of spaces between them.

Sitting up, y/n used her other hand to first the lapel of his kefta. She quickly unfasted the buttons to get rid of it before she pushed him on his back.

“She thinks she has a chance, uh.” She taunted as she straddled his waist, roughly gathering her sleeping gown around her waist while his hands instantly shot up to rest on her hips.

“She thinks she’ll be as lucky as seeing you like this?” she continued, her hands caressing his naked chest, “that she’ll have the chance of touching you? kissing you?” she leaned down, one hand at the nape of his head to make him meet her halfway. It wasn’t a long kiss, she needed to make a point after all. Pulling away, she bit his lower lip earning a moan from him.

“To feel you like this?” she whispered in his mouth as her hips wiggled over his clothed member. His hands tightened his hold on her hips, pushing her down on it increasing the pressure.

“She’s delusional,” Aleks gasped as her mouth trailed kisses along his jaw and neck where it nipped and sucked.

“Mh,” y/n agreed, “let’s make sure she knows.” She promised before her mouth went back to sucking a few hickeys on his neck. Aleks only moaned and gave her more space to work on. His hands trailed up from her waist, cupping her breasts before playing with her nipples.

As her mouth lowered on his collarbone, Aleks decided that enough was enough. His hands roughly gripped the end of her gown before hastily pulling it up and off her body. One arm snaked over her waist pulling her flush against him as he sat up.

“Enough teasing,” he warned as the hand that wasn’t on her quickly discarded his undergarments.

“As you wish, moy sovregni,” she whispered sultrily on his lips knowing fully what effect those words had on him. Aleksander growled on her mouth, his hands kneading her ass cheeks as he gently lowered her on him.

Gasping as she felt every inch of him enter her, y/n gripped his shoulders as she started to move. Aleks’ hands guided her as she set a steady pace.

“She’s never going to feel your hands on her body,” she breathed as Aleks’ hips snapped up, setting a rougher pace.

“You’re mine.” She growled possessively on his lips as her hips met his.

“I’m yours, y/n. Just as you’re mine.” His tone matched hers. He sealed his promise with a bruising kiss. The trusting was becoming more and more frantic and Aleks’ could feel y/n clench around him.

With no previous warning, he lowered his hands from her ass to her thighs so that he could hold her while he changed their position. Guiding her legs to wrap around his waist, Aleksander leaned on his knees while he pushed her upper body down with his chest. Y/n gasped on his lips not knowing if it was for the movement, for the change of position that meant that he was now able to reach deeper than before or because she could feel her orgasm approaching.

Whatever the reason may be, Aleks swallowed her gasp as his lips refused to leave hers. Snapping his hips, he moved his hands from her legs. One went to stimulate her clit while the other choked her lightly. He knew that this combo would prove to send her over the edge. Not long after, as a matter of fact, he felt y/n’s nails on his shoulders as well as her walls tightening around him. He was not behind.

While y/n whimpered his name over and over as her orgasm hit her, Aleksander’s thrusts began to falter. With one deep thrust, he emptied inside her, obscene sounds leaving his mouth.

He leaned over y/n’s body, both of their breaths heavy, they basked in the afterglow. Aleks’ head rested over her chest, comforted by her steady heartbeat while y/n’s hands trailed over his back.

Once their breath had levelled and they could regain control over their limbs, Aleks propped himself over his elbow, his nose nuzzling y/n’s making her giggle at the soft touch. She loved these rare moments of softness and intimacy between them. If she could, she’d never let them end.

“I promise you’ll never have to doubt me again.”

“If you keep this up, it’d be impossible for me to.” She chuckled, referring to her limp body. She couldn’t trust her body to move. Sex with Aleksander always had this effect on her.

“Good to know I can still satisfy you.” He smirked as he leaned down for a small kiss. Giggling on his lips, y/n pulled him close, making him rest his weight on her rather than his elbow.

“I’m thoroughly sated, my love. You have nothing to worry about in that department.” Aleks couldn’t see her but could feel the smirk on her lips. Intertwining their legs, he got more comfortable on her. Her arms held him in a tight embrace.

“You’ll do well to remember it, dearest.” His voice came out muffled since his face rested between her breasts but y/n got what he meant anyway. Laughing at the idea that she could ever need anyone else, y/n held him closer to her chest. The embrace her form of a promise to him.

She had everything she’d ever need right here in her arms.

#the darkling #the darkling x reader #the darkling x you #the darkling x y/n #aleksander morozova #aleksander morozova x reader #general kirigan #general kirigan x reader #the darkling imagine #the darkling imagines #the darkling angst #the darkling smut #the darkling fluff #aleksander morozova imagines #the darkling one shot #aleksander kirigan smut #shadow and bone #grishaverse #shadow and bone one shot #ben barnes

[phoenixyfriend]

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

[ren-c-leyn]

Hello, and Welcome to The Queen’s Crown! ~ A Blog Intro

 Hello, I’m Ren C. Leyn (I pronounce Leyn as lee-en, for the curious). My pronouns are she/her. I’m an adult who writes high and dark fantasy, poetry, and occasionally other random genres when the mood strikes me. It’s nice to meet you!

Some random things about me and my blog.

~ Love flowers and animals.

~ All of my writing is shamelessly self indulgent.

~ Am more known around here for my flood of positivity posts than said writing, but that’s fine with me. Folks around here really seem to need it.

~ Am an old one of the writeblr scene, have been here for several years. (If you’ve got questions about how writeblr works, feel free to ask.)

~ Have been obsessed with dragons, elves, and monsters since my mother introduced me to mythology when I was a little girl. (I am still a huge mythology nerd. Old myths, legends, and the like were wild.)

~ I participate in World Building Wednesday and Storyteller Saturday every week and run a weekly event called Something Neat Sunday. Feel free to stop by for any of them, even if we haven’t interacted much/at all.

~ I am not around on Thursdays or Fridays, so don’t expect answers to anything during that time until Saturday.

~ I run Something Neat Sunday, a weekly event where people stop by my ask box to scream about their talents writer and artist friends. If you’d like to learn more, here’s the link to the introduction post:

https://at.tumblr.com/ren-c-leyn/something-neat-sundays/25b9se7ud2h3

~ Tea drinker.

~ I love video games, particularly old school or open world rpgs, visual novels with multiple endings, and management games. But my taste can be pretty random, I play everything from match 3 to the occasional platformer.

~ Am firmly against pirating, especially writing. I’m also not a fan of bullies, people who think threats against real people are an appropriate response to not liking how a piece of fiction was done, people who think death threats and suicide-baiting in general are okay, and anything of that sort. If you do these things I will probably just block and/or report you, so don’t. ^^

~ I’d prefer people who follow be 15 or older, because while my blog is safe for work I do work with a lot of darker themes, such as death, violence, war, and so on in my writing. I also reblog a lot of writing with those themes from other writers as well.

~ Please do not add me to taglists unless I’ve explicitly said I’d like to be added.

About my WIPs -

I have several, several projects in the works at any given time. So, I’ll be putting this under a read more for convince sake. I do work with some darker themes, such as death, violence, and so on, so tread lightly.

If you want to know more about a specific project or character, most of them have their own tags in my blog and you can search for them, or you can ask me questions about them anytime you feel like it. The ask box is always open, after all :D I have taglists for all projects, so feel free to ask to be added to them anytime you wish.

Actively Writing -

The Plight of a Sparrow. Progress: Currently prepping book 1 for querying, editing book 2′s forth draft, and starting book 3. Estimated to be at least a 5 book series.

A high fantasy isekai story with a twist. Sparrow used to be a quiet girl with a love of video games under a different name. Then, she died in an impossible way right after unlocking the last achievement in her favorite game. Reborn in the beautiful fantasy world of that game as a literal baby, she quickly realizes life here is anything but a game and the stakes couldn’t be higher now that her beloved characters are her friends and family and on routes that lead to doom. Cursed, burdened with a rare sought-after magic, and surrounded by dark secrets and plots she couldn’t even dream of, how can she survive, little alone make a difference, when she isn’t even the chosen hero of this world?

1st person, past tense, narrated from Sparrow’s point of view.

Characters - Sparrow, Raina, Hugh, Jalen, Claude, Hunter, Aaron, Mist, Erinus, and probably more that have yet to make an appearance.

The Shackles of Time - Progress: Hard to gauge as it’s a continuous story being posted chapter by chapter here on tumblr.

A high fantasy story following three rookie adventurers on their quests to become legends, as well as their fellow guildmates.

In a world littered with the bones of ancient  monsters of old, the ruins of civilizations risen and fallen, there are  legendary halls where heroes gather to seek their fame and glory.  Perhaps one of the most famous among their illustrious ranks is the Dawn  Isle Guild, whose legendary, albeit mysterious, guild master has  overcome many ruinous challenges before suddenly retiring.

But  these are different times than the ones the previous generation faced.  Quieter times. Gone are the ancient dragons that razed cities, and  felled are the giants that collapsed mountains, banished is the Mad God.  Yet, that does not stop brave souls from seeking new challenges to  face. New foes to overcome. New adventures to be had. Three such  hopefuls seek this path. While they come from different region, walked  different roads, and all carry different reasons, their fates all  collide beneath the ruins of a floating golden city at the gates of the  Dawn Isle Guild.

What adventures await these three would be heroes, and are they prepared to face them? Only the Gods know….

Here is the post where I’ll be cataloging all of the chapters as I write them.

https://ren-c-leyn.tumblr.com/post/669507479957356544/the-shackles-of-time-chapter-masterlist

Characters: Night, Merle, Arlen, Cherrenth, Glenn, Zephyr, Bramble, Wyndulin, Cassandra, Emlyn, Myria, Irryn, Nor, Drusilla, Eldrin, Lucien, Azalea, Riya, and likely many more that will be introduced as I go along.

Forgotten Gods - Progress: Starting the second draft! :D

A fantasy novel set in a world where multiple pantheons of gods are not only real, but always vying for power and the attentions of the mortals. Silver left everything behind on a dark and uncertain night. Unable to return home, she scrambles desperately for a way forward when a strange being she doesn’t recognize offers her something she cannot refuse: the power to change her own fate. Kitan is a chosen champion of a popular sun goddess, but can’t figure out why. Why she saw a champion in him when no one else can seem to see any worth in him whatsoever. Why she won’t give him the guidance other Gods give their champions, only power and slivers of emotions to light his way. Reuven, an exiled elven hunter, is on a quest to find himself out in the wide world before he returns home. While retracing his mother’s steps, he finds so much more than he expected in the northern forests when he runs into two champions of the Gods: one with something to hide, and one who doesn’t know what they’re doing. What tangled webs have the Gods woven for these three unlikely friends? Can they survive the coming storm? Or will their fates consume them?

Third person, past tense. Written in alternating chapters that follow each of the three main characters.

Characters: Silver, Reuven, Kitan, Eternity, Corona, Cordial, and probably others that haven’t appeared yet.

On Hiatus -

My Ancestor, My Enemy - Progress: Somewhere between a third and half way through the first draft. Currently on hiatus while I work on other projects and continue my ongoing struggle to finally pick an ending for it.

A dark fantasy novel as told by the field journal of Lierin, a high-ranking elven Hunter tasked with finding one of her missing comrades, and eliminating the monsters he had been tasked with killing. Battling with her own identity, rage, and the strange creatures her ancestors created, Lierin must descend into more than one kind of darkness as she explores a ‘cursed’ cavern system. What horrors will she find in the depths of the caverns? What secrets did her ancestors leave behind? Can she save herself, little alone the other Hunter? Or will everything be lost to darkness?

First person, past/present tense, told through the writings of Lierin’s journal.

Characters - Lierin.

Orion’s Oblivion - 1/3 to 1/2 way through first draft.

A Sci-fi/fantasy story. Orion was on a routine job, an easy one even. All he had to do was grab the guy, bring him back, collect his bounty, and that’d be the end of it. It would have been the end of it, except the small-fry criminal wasn’t the only one he picked up on that asteroid. He comes face to face with Jinx, an ancient vampire from a time all but forgotten, and she’s got unfinished business to settle. Business that she’s decided to drag him into, whether he wants to be or not. Business that she’s dragging the whole, damn universe into whether it likes it or not, because saving it is her business... no matter what the cost is.

Will be written in first person from Orion’s point of view, not sure if I’ll be doing past or present tense yet.

Characters: Jinx, Spark, Orion, Luck, Silence, and probably others who will make themselves known as I go along.

The Dragon’s Crown - Progress: rewriting the first draft of the script, planning/plotting, and practicing digital art so I can eventually be good enough to start working on the art assets.

A fantasy visual novel following the misadventures of Ophelia the thief, a notorious criminal, after her latest job goes wrong. A pair of mercenaries help her out of it, but repaying her debt to them brings her past crashing back into her life. There’s just somethings she can’t seem to outrun, no matter how hard she tries. Some skeletons will never stay buried, some secrets will never stay secret. All the dark things are coming back to haunt her. Now she has to decide what to do about it. Face the sins of her family? Keep running? Save the kingdom her ancestors built? Condemn it? Try to become a better person, or sink deeper into the darkness? What of the people around her? Can she trust any of them? Should she trust any of them? And can they trust her?

First person, present tense, with some third person scenes, mostly narrated from Ophelia’s point of view.

Characters - Ophelia, Henrietta, Cyrus, Sky, Karma, Crow, and Reason.

Somewhere In between -

The Firewalker - Progress: First draft completed! Letting it sit before beginning draft 2.

A fantasy story following the after math of a holy war between two pantheons of gods. Two of the children of the mortals who fought it are now faced with their own struggles, trying to find a place in this new world and who they are. She’s an assassin, a killer, the exact opposite of what she ever wanted to become. In too deep to wash her hands of the blood, she decides to add to her list of sins for a chance at freedom and to follow in her father’s footsteps. He’s a mage, a descendant of the priests of the old gods, hunted and feared by all. Angry with his lot in life, he lashes out at the hunters, earning his title as a monster. Though, he secretly longs to reclaim a sense of belonging, of home and family, something he lost so long ago.... Both wish for something more, even if they don’t deserve it, even if getting it will cost them everything. When their paths cross, will they pull each other out of the darkness, or push each other further over the edge? Can they survive their combined enemies long enough to even find out?

Multiple POV first person, past tense, narrated in alternating chapters from both Thistle and Valerian’s point of views.

Characters - Thistle, Valerian, Anise, Talon, Sin

#my wips #blog intro

[um-talia]

Rating The Moon Signs

omg I’ve seen many people do this and I love talking shit so imma piggy back off of em. (This is based off of my personal experiences ofc 🕺🏽)

🐑 Aries Moon : So the people I’ve met with this placement were giving very much attention whores. Like I don’t understand as to why y’all feel the need to be so impulsive but it’s kinda hot ngl. My Aries Mars rocks with y’all heavy but can we chill with the 5 second tantrums ?? 👩🏽‍🦯 but I love y’all passion don’t get me wrong. These natives who I met online were usually the hot headed trollers or the ones who would repeat the same jokes to roast people 💀💀 My Rating: 6.5, do better ���️

🐑 Taurus Moon : All the Taurus Moons I know do drugs heavily and just involve themselves in deadpan humor. Y’all so pretty with a hint of funny looking tho. Just stroke their egos for a good 2 days and show some sort of consistency and then they’ll wanna fuck fasho. omg and please tell me why y’all get so bland outta nowhere, the type to stay on the phone and just enjoy your presence. My Rating : 8, imma give u neck kisses

🐑 Gemini Moon : Another well known druggy in my life. Imma just need y’all to get it together and FIGURE IT OUT. Too much is going on in y’all minds and it’s such a beautiful yet annoying thing. I noticed people with this placement depend on others to just make the decision for them but then they disregard the decision that they asked for. The true definition of scatterbrained but y’all cute as shit and I understand why y’all depend on weed now. They’re the type to ask questions about “Determinism Vs. Free Will” outta nowhere 🤦🏽‍♀️ My Rating : 5.2, im usually the erratic one stop stealing my role 😔

🐑 Cancer Moon : I don’t know many cancer moons but the ones that I have came in contact with were kinda cringey. Their humor was really ruthless to the point where they could get scrutinized for any joke, like they mainly joked for the shock factor. They weren’t into drugs ): but they were very loving when they needed to be. My advice is try and read the room love ! My Rating : 6.4, semi good foreplay

🐑 Leo Moon : Omg this isnt a cute placement because usually I get in arguments with people with this placement. y’all are cute ig? I sense a lot of fake appraisal from this sign just to be accepted but if you rub them the wrong way or call them out on something, it’s done for you. like at this point should i intentionally bruise y’all egos?? My Rating: 3.6, gg

🐑 Virgo Moon : I’ve fell in love with every man that had this placement 🧎🏽‍♀️. And the women? Y’all remind me of my mom like 🥺. I love how y’all pay attention to detail and y’all minds remind me of like office cabinets !! Y’all keep files and receipts which is beautiful for talking shit and exposing enemies !!! I knew one virgo moon and he genuinely enjoyed watching history videos in his free time like that’s so hot ??? Very well rounded individuals and can literally talk about anything 🏄🏽‍♀️ My Rating: 9.2, y’all break my heart tho :(

🐑 Libra Moon : See this is a tricky placement because it’s such a neutral placement for me and all the other placements effects it so here’s how imma break it down. If you have water/air in the big 3 with this placement its giving very much pushover. Like the people I’ve met with that combo are really good at like seeing different perspectives but they’re kinda bad at setting boundaries with people so they’re viewed as fake. But the earth/fire with libra moon is kinda 🥴, great conversationalist and really down with anything. But y’all are pretty :D My Rating: 7.5/10, inconsistent passive aggression

🐑 Scorpio Moon: First off, I want to say that I love us :) . But let’s not act like we’re some uncommunicative bitches. Like I get it, you need an outlet to express your feelings and it can be from drugs, art, to pyromania, who tf knows? Most of the Scorpio moons I know cry about being sad and wanting dick. I do too !! Sorry about your mom being emotionally unavailable or judgmental. Get a therapist or a boyfriend who just listens that can serve you some above average dick. Oh and y’all pretty on some intimidation shit 🙈 My Rating: 9.9/10, P.S. ur still in your emo phase

🐑 Sagittarius Moon: ummmm, this is kinda awkward because my sister had this placement and she’s so sensitive 🧎🏽‍♀️. Like from the men I’ve seen with this placement they’re always hopping onto the next thing to entertain them, similar traits with Aries Moon but like a slight more pretentious. All the sag moons ik are like really into underground “designer” brands (ik it’s a contradiction but iykyk). All I have to say is, you’re okay? and stop being so selfish like ): My Rating: 4/10, ur not the next socrates

🐑 Capricorn Moon: Beautiful Bodies. But y’all are kinda mean 😔. I appreciate the bluntness and how y’all say what comes to y’all mind. Y’all love bidding (dc slang for roasting) and can really fry somebody up. y’all tend to be really emotionally independent and i admire that but at the same time do you need a hug??? really good friends but broke majority of the time because they spent their money on drugs or off brand shoes. My Rating: 8/10, u make my heart giggle

🐑 Aquarius Moon: I’ve mainly met these people online fr and they’re the ones who keep dishing out memes without missing. Whenever I come in contact with one they flirt like there’s no tomorrow but then lose interest because their standards are 📈. They usually use humor/memes to showcase their emotions which is cute until the memes become gorey or wild as hell. Have problems with communicating but they’re good people to talk to on the surface level for me. My Rating: 6/10, get off tiktok and develop a personality (im kiddinggg)

Pisces Moon: y’all remind me of symphonies, who keeps playing y’all? haven’t met many but the ones I’ve met are the type to cry in History because they lost track ): . I wanna nurture y’all just gimme the chance . The aesthetics y’all have fluctuates from grunge to fairy core and I love the fluidity. btw stop stealing my music taste and let’s hotbox🧎🏽‍♀️ My Rating: 8/10, make a song about fairy tales idk girl

Thanks for reading this shit post 🤍🪴

#astro observations #moon signs #aries moon #taurus moon #gemini moon #libra moon #virgo moon #astrology notes #scorpio moon #pisces moon #cancer moon #leo moon #sag moon #sagittarius moon #capricorn moon #aqua moon #aquarius moon #astrology

[idy-ll-ique]

Any Doctors Here?

pairing: mob boss!steve rogers x doctor!f!reader

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst

warnings: mentions of burns and hospitals

requested: nope

summary: while visiting his favorite bar, steve stumbles upon a new bartender, but there is something off about her. after a small conversation, he finds out that she is indeed overqualified for the job; she was a jobless doctor in need of money. well, it just so happens that the last doctor that worked for steve quit, there was a slot open...

author's note: hiya peeps enjoy!

masterlist

---

Steve walked into the bar, looking around. All faces turned to him immediately. He smirked slightly when he saw everyone look away, squirming. Steve Rogers was a nationally recognized mobster boss. Sure, he was on the negative side but police had given up on him years ago. He roamed the streets freely now, much to the fear of people.

He wouldn't think of harming an innocent soul, but people didn't know that. He found their fear amusing so he never said anything. He walked up to the bartender, sitting in front of her. She gave him a smile. "What would it be, Mr Rogers?" she asked, turning back to the bottles kept on the shelf behind her.

Steve checked her out while she turned away. He decided that she was pretty, very much so. "Whiskey, please, darling," he told her, leaning against the counter. He also noticed that she was the only one not afraid of him. "What's your name?" he asked her as she prepared his drink.

"My name is no," she sang and he raised an eyebrow at her. Her confidence and sass surprised him. "I'm just kidding! I'm Y/N," she laughed, passing his glass to him. A second later, he laughed, too. "Y/N, pretty name. You aren't afraid of me?" he questioned curiously, downing the whiskey in one go.

"Not really. Why would I be?" she shrugged. "Don't you know who I am?" he asked her, shocked. "I literally addressed you by your name when you came in."

He had forgotten about that.

"Ah, right. Um, okay." For the first time in his life, he was stumped. He never had trouble talking to women, but something about Y/N was odd. He had to keep the conversation going. "So, uh, do you work here?" he blurted out. What if this was her cover and she really was someone else?

Would explain her nonchalance. "I love how you say something so obvious with such a sense of discovery," she smiled sassily, leaning on the counter in front of him. Her sarcasm was getting under his skin now but somehow, he liked it.

She was fierce. "No, I mean, do you work here permanently or is this a sort of part time job?" he rephrased, rolling his eyes. "Part time, you guessed right. I have an MBBS, no job," she chuckled. Ah, a doctor. The fact that she was well-educated sat right with Steve. She behaved like an intellectual. "Oh, that's nice." He ordered a few more drinks.

They continued talking but suddenly heard a scream.

Y/N and Steve turned around to see a man clutching his arm which had a burn visible on it. "Any doctors here?" his girlfriend screamed as the man groaned in pain. Y/N instantly ran towards him, grabbing a bottle of cold water along the way. She opened it and gently poured the water on his arm, which made the man sigh in relief.

"Call an ambulance right now," Y/N expertly told the girl, who nodded. She talked to someone on the phone as Y/N rolled up the sleeves of that man's hoodie. Steve watched all this with a slight smile on his face.

He was well used to having personal doctors and the last guy had just left the job. He felt like Y/N would be the perfect person for the job. She had an education anyway, how bad could it be? Also, he would pay her better than this small bar or any government job could ever. She deserved better pay.

Soon, the girl and her boyfriend were gone. Y/N walked back to the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. "So, uh, sorry about that," she muttered, smiling sheepishly at Steve.

"Don't be, please. You saved that man," he swiftly reassured her, shaking his head. Y/N nodded and silence fell between the two of them. "I have to ask you something," Steve blurted out. Y/N looked at him and nodded curiously. He proposed his idea to her and needless to say, Y/N was shocked.

Agreeing to work with a famous mobster was not something she expected would happen that day. She considered for a moment. Working with Steve could be nice…

He told her he would pay her well, she was already sold. She made her decision and nodded. "I agree," she smiled and Steve's eyes lit up with happiness. "Okay, here's my address, will you be able to stop by tomorrow?" he asked, jotting down his address on a tissue. "No problem. Bye!" she waved as he walked out of the bar. Y/N squealed, looking down the tissue paper.

Steve smiled as he walked back home. As he walked home, he couldn't stop thinking about the woman. Y/N. Beautiful, sassy, helpful, caring, fierce, intelligent… She was a package deal. A good one, of course. Was he getting a crush on the pretty bartender? He sighed and smiled again as he realized… he was.

Y/N's shift ended 2 hours later. She shrugged on her coat and walked outside, breathing in the outside air. As she walked home, she, too, couldn't stop thinking about the one and only, Steve Rogers.

That man oozed power and dominance wherever he went. He was a wealthy man, considering he dealt with black markets all the time. Not to mention his handsomeness. Y/N knew women who were head over heels for Steve. She used to think they shouldn't be, until she met him tonight.

Steve had been nothing but polite with her. He cracked good jokes and was really not the man Y/N expected him to be. Now that she knew that side of his, she finally acknowledged her crush on him.

Sure, she had a crush on him like the other women. But she kept it hidden given his position and job. A mobster boss? She could do so much better and safer. Y/N sighed as she reached home.

Oh, what will her feelings evolve into?

---

Y/N stood outside Steve's extravagant mansion, reconsidering her decision. She was dressed in a simple, flowy white sundress. She took in a deep breath and walked through the gates. The walk from the gates to the door of the mansion was long, but Y/N appreciated it since it gave her time to look at his pretty garden.

As soon as she walked up the stairs to the door, it opened. Steve stood there, dressed handsomely in a black suit. Steve, when he saw her, nearly choked on his own spit.

The dress she wore was damn close to being mistaken as a wedding dress. Honestly, Y/N looked like a bride to him. His bride, he thought to himself. Stop it, you met her yesterday! Similar thoughts were running through Y/N's head.

"Y/N! So glad you came." Steve smiled broadly to hide his inappropriate thoughts. "Hi Mr Rogers," she waved, letting him wrap his arms around her as he hugged her. "Steve, please." He kept his arm around her as they walked inside, towards her infirmary. Y/N noticed that there were guards outside every room they passed.

Steve, meanwhile, noticed how all the guards were smirking cheekily at him. He went a bit red and glared at them. The two lovebirds finally reached the infirmary of the mansion. Y/N gasped in awe as Steve opened the door to the beautiful room. "This will be your office," he told her proudly and she gave him a broad smile.

"I will love working here!" she squealed, jumping into his arms. Caught off guard, Steve stumbled backwards but hugged her back. After looking around the room, they walked outside. Steve led her up the stairs, where the bedrooms were.

She would be staying there, that would ensure her availability 24/7. It wasn't really a big deal for Steve, the mansion was super big and cozy. Y/N was confused, though. What could be upstairs? To her surprise, Steve showed her to a bedroom. "Um, this bedroom is nice, I guess. But why are you showing me this?"

"You'll be living here," Steve said, shrugging. Y/N's eyes widened. "And who decided that?" she scoffed. "I thought you knew," Steve narrowed his eyes, confused. "I knew that I'd be staying at your place? How?" she yelled. Didn't she wanna stay there? "Because you're working for me!" he yelled back.

His temper snapped. "You don't own me, Rogers, I'm only working for you. You can't tell me where I'm supposed to live and where not," she spat bitterly. Steve glared at her use of his last name. "How else do you think I'm going to ensure you are available everyday?" he shouted, crossing his arms. Both of them held glares on their faces.

Suddenly, Y/N sighed. "I'm sorry," she mumbled and Steve's glare softened. "Don't apologize. I should've told you before," he said, reaching out to touch her cheek. "Do you still want me around?" she asked tiredly, looking at him.

He nodded readily, of course he did. For his sake as well. "Good. When do I move in?" she chuckled. "Any time you want," he told her, smiling. He gave her a tour of the mansion and she left.

---

6 months passed since Y/N agreed to work with Steve. And what fun those months were... Y/N loved living with the mobster boss. He brought patients nearly everyday, though. In her free time, Y/N roamed around the mansion, cooked or went to the garden to enjoy the view.

She loved the garden especially, it was filled with beautiful flowers and there was a swing, too. She and Steve did not hang out much, he was always busy some way or another. Today, that wasn't the case. Y/N had fallen for the man, indefinitely. They found out more about each other when they started living together.

She found out that he was actually a sweetheart under that hardcore facade and Steve found out that he missed being in a steady relationship. He had had girlfriends before but only for nights, or weeks, at length. Never more than that. Now that Y/N was in his life, he wanted nothing more than to be hers. They had lived together for 6 months now and Steve was sure he loved her.

He couldn't find the courage to confess. What if she didn't like him back, thought he was weird and quit working for him? What if she stopped living with him? She loved the mansion, all her needs were met here. Would she give that up just because he confessed? He couldn't risk it. Y/N was worried about the same things but from different perspectives.

What if he fired her, made her pack her bags and leave? She didn't want to go.

Y/N sighed as she lay down on the soft grass of the garden, reading a book. Steve was right next to her, picking the petals off a flower. She noticed him and laughed. "What are you doing?" Y/N asked him, smirking. "She loves me, she loves me not," he smirked back, now used to her sass. "About whom?" Y/N snorted, sitting up.

She was a bit disheartened. "This really great woman I know. She's really beautiful, you know? She's also super intelligent, by the way. And she's caring, kind, helpful… I love her." Y/N's heart shattered at his words. He loved this woman. Meaning, her feelings were useless.

"She sounds lovely," Y/N choked out, looking at her book. "She is. But I don't know if she likes me back. We've only known each other for 6 months, I met her at a bar. There are a lot of disastrous things that could happen if I confessed," Steve sighed, smiling at her. Something struck inside Y/N's head.

He was talking about her!

"Like what?" she asked, now smiling at him. "Oh, I don't know… she wouldn't like me back, move out, stop working for me, agree to never see me again… I don't want that to happen," he chuckled, looking at Y/N. She shifted closer to him, wrapping her arms around him.

"I'm pretty sure none of it would happen. She would definitely say she loves you back," Y/N whispered. Steve hugged her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. "Do you really?" he asked softly. "I do, Steve, what's there not to like about you?" she chuckled, running a hand through his hair.

"The fact that I'm a mobster?" he chuckled into her shoulder, pulling her on his lap. "I don't care about that. You're so much more than that. You're a good man, you treat innocent people nicely… you're a sweetheart when you want to be," she giggled, kissing the top of his head.

Steve pulled away and brought her face closer to his, pressing their lips together. He had waited so long for this to happen. Y/N kissed him back, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "I love you," Steve breathed out, smiling up at his woman. "I love you, too," Y/N grinned. They spent the rest of the afternoon in the garden together.

---

a/n: thanks for reading, leave a like if you enjoyed!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers x female reader #steven grant rogers #captain america #mob!steve rogers #steve rogers headcanon #steve rogers oneshot #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x female reader #chris evans characters #disney #mcu #marvel #avengers #fanfic #writing #writeblr

[hotdamnhunnam]

Hi, I haven't seen any request with Raleigh Becket, so him with🥶,☕,😚(kiss). (Also I'm sorry I barely ever request anything and I suck at picking characters and emojis or prompts). Hope you won't have much trouble with this.

Thanks for your request for my Emoji Fic Fest! No need to apologize at all, this is great lol, and I’m glad to have gotten a Raleigh request! 💗

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

Iced Coffee Kisses

Pairing: Raleigh Becket x F!Reader Warnings: smut, swearing, Raleigh crushing on a girl & being the awkwardest turtle in the world Word Count: ~1.2k Emoji Prompt: 🥶☕️😚 (key words are in bold)

It’s fucking cold.

The frigid air bites through his coat as falling snow dampens his hair to darker gold. He really isn’t one to bitch about conditions, but he shouldn’t even be in this position. Though his shift is done, the officer in charge is in the middle of some speech, some protocol he needs to teach, and he wants everyone to listen. Raleigh Becket is a good boy so of course he feels compelled to do as told.

There’s a completely selfless reason as to why he’s fucking miffed: he picked up coffee for somebody at the tail end of his shift. It’s in a little paper cup with a cheap plastic lid, and cooling off with every passing minute. He’d have just gotten a new one, when this stupid speech is done—but as the officer goes on and on and on, it’s getting late and Raleigh knows, by now the cafeteria is fucking closed.

When he’s at last released he hurries to the dormitory halls—toward your room—rushing as briskly as he can without the risk of spilling cooled off coffee all over his balls. From all the cold his crotch is numb, so if this drink splashed from the cup and stained his pants he probably wouldn’t even feel a thing at all.

Maybe it’s good if his dick’s broken ‘cause whenever he gets close to you it tends to want to stand up stiff and tall.

When he arrives and softly knocks his frostbit knuckles on the closed door of your dorm… for the first time all day he finally feels warm.

Warm turns to hot now as the door swings open, and you’re wearing your pink panda bear pajamas just as he was hoping. Or not hoping, to be more precise—he always loves to see you looking so damn cute, till he reminds himself it’s rude, and has to turn away his eyes.

The pink of your pajamas pales against the rosy petals of his lips. He’s just a friend but times like this you wish that he would fucking grab you by the hips… slam you against the wall and claim your ass as his, with a big fat passionate kiss…

Of course that isn’t what he does. At least not yet. He’s still the same virtuous golden boy he always was, even more bashful and respectful now than back when you first met.

“Hey!” he greets you with a goofy smile as he holds the coffee up, big hand wrapped tight around the small white cup. “I, uh—I know you said that you’d be working on that huge project all day, most likely staying up all night. Figured some coffee couldn’t hurt, right?”

Beam at him sunshiney bright. “Aw, that’s so sweet of you!” I seriously love you.

“It’s… it’s more like iced, I guess,” he tells you with a grimace. “Got held up but tried my best.”

“I love iced coffee,” you reply honestly. “Thanks so much Raleigh, this—this is really sweet.”

You take the cup he came to offer you and all you feel is heat.

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

“I like your dorm.”

He instantly regrets that you invited him inside ‘cause now he’s sitting here beside you on your bed and starts to squirm. He’s saying stupid shit and finds his mouth is spouting off impulsively before the thoughts can form. “It’s… really warm.”

You don’t want him to feel embarrassed or ashamed, but seeing him all shy and awkward is so cute you can’t be blamed. Your tone is playful and indulgent and you hope he knows that you don’t mean to mock him. You just really want to fuck him. “Leigh, you do know that our rooms are all the same?”

The only person in the world who gets to call him by a girl’s name.

Rolls his eyes, hoping you don’t notice the bulge between his thighs. “Obviously. But the, uh—pictures you’ve put up are really lovely.”

Gestures at the walls. You’ve been meaning to decorate a bit more but you’ve not gotten around to it at all. There are, like, two photos hung up but otherwise you can’t deny your room is ugly. Even more so when in contrast to the sheer beauty of godly golden Raleigh.

Though he knows your bed is just the same as everybody else’s, he can’t help but feel it’s extra fucking comfy. He feels home here on your mattress. Warm and fluffy. “How’s the coffee?”

“It’s… it’s iced,” you answer with a tender smile as you take another sip, lick the cool liquid off your lip. Shift closer toward him on the bed. “But like I said—I really like it iced. It’s nice.”

“I like your eyes.”

Dude, what the fuck. He wants to hide under a rock. There’s not a rock in sight though so the poor guy’s out of luck. He wants to run but he’s forgotten how to even fucking walk. You touch his forearm through his coat and it’s as if you touched his motherfucking cock.

“I like yours too. They’re really blue,” you coo, sweeping a tuft of snow-kissed gold off to the side so you can see his blushing face in fuller view. “Leigh, you do know I’m really into you?”

He swallows hard and doesn’t think he’ll make it through, if you continue. He’ll combust to fucking pieces if it’s true. “…Into?”

You nod and set the nearly empty cup of coffee on the nightstand, freeing both your hands. “I’m really not that subtle with my hints to you.”

“What hints?” This blonde buffoon is seriously sitting here without a fucking clue.

Even that one time when you literally asked Raleigh if he wanted to take you on a date he thought you meant as friends or something and he still wasn’t convinced.

Leigh sees you as some kind of Disney princess way beyond his league—your bravery and brains and beauty make him weak—he doesn’t have a clue that he’s your fucking prince.

So you decide your hints are gonna have to get a little bold. “You know the coffee that you brought may have been cold… but you’re still super fucking hot.” You watch his eyes widen to take in what you’ve told. Whether he finds himself believing it or not. “Believe me, Leigh—I like you, like, a lot. I think about you every fucking night and get off on the thought.”

Oh my God what the fucking what. Now any chance he had at answering coherently is shot. He fumbles frantically for words and gives you what little he’s got. “I do… I do that when I think about you too?”

He says it like a question as if there was any doubt that you already knew.

“I know you do,” you purr. Lean in to finally kiss him hungrily and hotly—then shift suddenly—down to your knees before him on the floor. You love his kisses but you’d love to kiss him elsewhere even more. “You know I never thanked you properly, for that lovely iced coffee that you got me… thankfully that is exactly what this slutty little mouth of mine is for.”

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

Emoji Fic Masterlist

Emoji Fic Tag List – below; if you’d like to be added or removed, just let me know!

@happyhunnams @band--psycho @est11 @edonaspanca @starbooty @innerpaperexpertcloud @i-love-scott-mccall @six-camelot @alexa-rae-dreamz @coffeebooksandfandom @thesuicidalflower @flaireandsynch @helloheyhihowdyheya @gemini0410 @waywardodysseys @zozebo @bettergetusetoit @emilykjh @little-diable @rocketqueen @mrspeacem1nusone @miss-smutty @rayslittlekitten @abby-splace @chubbychubbs28 @miraclesoflove @tegggeeee @hunnambabe @missusnora @kesskirata @vixenrebellion @thexhostess @pomegranatearildreams @kandii395 @severewobblerlightdragon @itspdameronthings @niki-xie @cind-in-real-life @saweetspoiled @poge-life @few-proud-emotonal @samanthaisnthome @melodranas @soaharleys @charlie-hunnams-old-lady @simpmasterjr @nataliewalker93 @lovebarefootblonde @marvelousmermaid @tsukuyomi011 @sciapod @midnight-dreams-23

#charlie hunnam #raleigh becket #pacific rim #charlie hunnam smut #raleigh becket smut #pacific rim smut #charlie hunnam imagine #raleigh becket imagine #pacific rim imagine #charlie hunnam fanfiction #raleigh becket fanfiction #pacific rim fanfiction #raleigh becket x reader #raleigh becket x you #charlie hunnam x reader #charlie hunnam x you #emoji fics

[arlert-angel]

love fast, die young ☪

♡ jean x fem!reader

❥ you know that at any moment your life could be cut short as a scout, and the last thing you want is to die a virgin, so why not ask your best friend that you’re in love with for some help?

❥ wc: 5.8k

❥ cw: near death experience (reader), virgin!reader and virigin!jean, cannonverse but no plot, loss of virginity, slight size kink, cream pie, aftercare, fluff

❥ note: i was invested in the story of this one lol, it's a lot more romantic than i initially intended. they’re aged up, but the cannonverse details don’t make sense for the plot, so let’s pretend it does yay.

Arriving back from expeditions was always an exhausting feat within itself, sometimes more so than the actual expedition. 

Commanding officers had to count their losses, healers had to tend to the wounded, and everyone who was good enough to stand had to report their kills and assists. Of course that was the immediate tasks that needed to take place, but then came the grief. Friends looked for one another, many people cried, and names could be heard shouted all around as everyone arrived at headquarters. 

You weren't that different, but you were silent as you scanned the crowd looking for your tall best friend. You knew he was with the best of the best in Levi's squad, so you weren't too worried. However, you also knew the previous best had been wiped out before the new group came. 

Anything could happen which made you all the more anxious. 

You and Jean were not on the same squad. You first were offered a position on the Levi squad with the rest of your friends, but then Hange handed picked you to help them with their experiments, claiming they needed your mind to work with them. Hange is very likeable and now one of your closest friends, and at the time it seemed impossible to say no to them.

Hange's and Levi's squad tended to work together a lot and definitely trained together, so you didn't miss your friends too much. It was only when expeditions approached and new formations were made, when you had to be separated from the rest of your 104th pals. 

You never complained about the separation. It wouldn't last forever, maybe a couple days at most, and then you return to laughing and working with the rest of your friends. You had no complaints until this particular expedition.

You had a close call.

In fact, so close, you might as well have kissed Death on the lips while you were so close to the afterlife. 

The mission was going according to plan. It was a simple scouting mission in the mountains that were, for the most part, titan free. Your squad was on the left flank of the formation, near the edge of the mountains. The cliff sides surrounding you guys held a beautiful, yet slightly scary view. The drop had to be at least 300 feet.

You should've known something bad was going to happen as soon as Hange called out, "Hey, Y/N, check it out!" But you weren't thinking that hard, for the day had been so peaceful. 

The path you all had taken was so close to the cliffs that the squad was riding single file for safety. There was enough room to pass one another, but you had to do so very carefully. 

You rode ahead, passing Moblit. You sent him a questioning look as went by, but he only shrugged, not knowing what Hange was raving over. When you slid off your horse and next to Hange you saw what they did.

A very large cave.

"Should we go inside?" Hange looked at you, clearly excited, but it was an awful idea.

"No!" You tried to sound stern, knowing how they needed a firm rejection or they'd always get what they wanted, "Do you see the size of the thing? This looks like a comfy home for a 10 meter titan, maybe even 15 meter class if they hunched over."

"Do you think they'd crawl around in there?!" Their eyes widened and the familiar look that you've seen so many times on their face appeared. It was their usual expression they had when you conducted experiments with them. You swore to yourself how you fed their curiosity on accident.

"What's going on?" Moblit now arrived, wondering what the hold up was about.

"They want to go inside that death trap," You pointed at the ominous cavern in front of you all. 

"You cannot be serious!" Moblit exclaimed in surprise, the volume echoing down the stone and dirt walls. Moblit continued his rant, stating the obvious, but you tuned their debate out. You just stared into what looked like an abyss. 

There was no movement, no noise, not even the breeze seemed to reach here.

But for some reason you had a gut feeling. A gut feeling that saved all of your lives.

"Move!" You shoved Hange into Moblit which effectively knocked them both to the side of the cave and used your ODM gear to swing yourself to the opposite side. 

The large hand reached out as you tried to get out of the way, but because you helped the others you weren't quick enough.

Luckily, the titan's grasp only managed to get tangled in your ODM wire and couldn’t quite reach your actual body. 

Unluckily, the titan was managing to drag you like a ragdoll and if you didn't do anything quickly you would be engulfed in the darkness where it was hidden, and then probably engulfed in it’s stomach. 

You had to think quick on your feet and so you drew your blades and slashed the wire on your gear all together. You could've attempted to slash at it's hands, but that was no guarantee. The wire was sliced with a clean snip.

Now you were free, you stumbled back at the loss of momentum. You took one two many steps back, and that last step didn't hit the gravely earth that the others had. 

Your foot didn't hit anything at all. 

You were about to fall off a cliff. 

Ironic to escape death one way only to quite literally fall into its clutches another way. 

But, you didn't fall. 

Your eyes were squeezed shut in absolute terror, and when you opened them at the lack of free fall, you saw Hange.

They had managed to save you by the front of your shirt, yanking you back on solid ground. Moblit had been keeping the titan at bay, and continued to do so as you and everyone else turned their horses carefully around. 

Thanks were shared by yourself, Hange, and Moblit at the different lucky saves. They praised your quick thinking and response. None of you actually saw the titan coming. You just knew. You seemed to recognize the familiar feeling of dread from the presence of a titan that wanted to eat you. Even if you couldn’t see it. 

Hange continuously apologized on the way back, but it wasn’t really their fault. It’s not like you actually entered the cave like they wanted. And it was probably a good thing you guys stopped when you did. If the group rode past the cave something worse might have happened.  

After that close call you wanted nothing more to find your best friend and have his familiar comfort.

"Y/N? Whatcha still doing out here?" You spun around quickly and saw Connie. 

“Oh, hey! I’m just looking for Jean, have you seen him?” You didn’t want to panic, but it was weird to see Connie without Jean. 

“Yeah! Mikasa killed this titan that had snuck up right above us and it’s blood got all over Jean it was so funny he screamed like a girl. But yeah, he went to the showers immediately,” Connie explained laughing at the memory. You laughed along and wished you could see it yourself.

“That’s funny, I should probably shower too, this mission felt particularly long,” You grumbled more to yourself than Connie, but he picked up on your off tone.

“Did something happen?” He asked genuinely concerned. You might’ve been closest to Jean, but Connie and Sasha were also very close to you. The four you always had the most fun together, and got in the most trouble. 

“Kind of, a titan snuck up on us too, but we were near the cliffs so there wasn’t all lot of room to work with. I almost fell, but on the bright side I overcame my fear of heights,” You laughed, but it was more anxious than joyful.

“Oh shit, that’s awful!” Connie’s eyes widened in horror, “I'll tell Jean to come find you when I see him.”

“What why?”

“You were looking for him right? He’d definitely want to know that you’re okay after that. He worries a lot, you know? It’s always: I hope Y/N okay, where’s Hange’s squad again, I wish Y/N was here, Y/N would love this view. Someone has to tell him to shut up at least once every expedition.” Connie actually did an okay Jean impression as he ranted to you, but you didn’t comment on it. 

You were too surprised. You didn’t know Jean worried about you. He never once came to you with any fears about expeditions. He always asked you what happened, but that’s just a normal conversation. It wasn’t too strange for someone’s best friend to think about them when apart. What was strange was the happy feeling you got knowing that Jean couldn’t shut up about you. A weird fluttery feeling danced in your stomach and you felt almost giddy.  

Connie noticed your lack of response and noticeably paled. 

“Fuck, wait, I didn’t tell you that! Jean’s gonna kill me, Y/N please don’t tell him I told you!” He grabbed onto you, begging. He shook you enough that it got you out of your confusing thoughts.

“Um, okay? I don't see what the big deal is. I think about Jean on expeditions too, that’s not weird right?” You smiled reassuringly and Connie’s whole body sagged in relief.

“Not at all! Have a nice shower!” Connie ran away, actually ran, trying to separate himself from that conversation. He thanked the Walls that you couldn’t read between the lines. 

After that odd conversation you got a change of clothes and towel, and then headed towards the showers. You passed Sasha and Mikasa on the way in and they both gave you pleasant greetings, all parties glad to see each other alive and well.

You tried not to overthink, but the hot shower gave you all the time to do so.

Your thoughts jumped from almost dying, to Jean, to these overwhelming feelings you seemed to harbor.

You knew you loved Jean. You both even told each other sometimes. Your mind never wandered further than viewing Jean as your best friend only because you didn’t think that’s what he’d want. 

When you first met Jean you had a small crush on him, admiring him from afar until Marco introduced the two of you. Once you grew closer and noticed his infatuation with Mikasa your feelings sizzled out in a bitter simmer. Your bitterness didn’t last long though, you were happy you had someone to rely on no matter what. After Marco passed, Jean was your crutch and vise versa. Romance would only make things confusing and besides you didn’t have any experience in the matter. 

But now as you think more and more about him you wondered if those feelings ever went away. You thought about his laugh and stupid tone he gets when he tries to act cocky. You thought about his eyes and how pretty they look in the sunlight. You thought about his ability to read your mind without you having to tell him something’s wrong. He was your person. 

You came to the conclusion that there definitely was something more than platonic there, but there was no certainty he felt the same. He would’ve said something by now. When he liked Mikasa he was so obvious, openly talking about her to everyone. You would’ve known something by now if it were the case, right? You knew he didn’t like Mikasa now, he told you explicitly for some reason, stating you needed to know. He also didn’t talk about liking anybody new. 

Sighing in frustration, you turned off the shower, now squeaky clean. What was supposed to be a relaxing shower just stressed you out because of your stupid brain’s overthinking. 

And it didn’t stop. As you dropped your messy uniform in the laundry, it reminded you of the day.   

Today proved that any moment could be your last. Being in the scouts has always been dangerous, and you knew you were a disposable soldier. You didn’t mind it much, but now you realized how little you had experienced. You had never been drunk, your only kiss was with Marco in a game of truth or dare, and you were a virgin. 

You didn’t want to die a virgin.

You thought of Jean. You wanted to be with him at least once before you died. You didn’t want to die without knowing how it felt to have everything with Jean. Your love for him definitely wasn’t platonic. You didn’t want to die without him knowing.

Your mind made up, you walked the halls with a little more determination than usual. You wandered around for only a couple minutes before running into Eren.

“Horseface is looking for you,” He pointed around the corner. You gave a quick thanks before quickly going in that direction only to collide with the person you were searching for.

“Y/N!” Jean surprised you by pulling you in a tight hug. As he pulled away he took note of the blush that was now on your cheeks, but didn’t comment. He also didn’t let you go completely, leaving his hands on your shoulders. Unable to help himself.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” You smiled genuinely, only slightly nervous now. Even with the giddiness he gave you, he still managed to calm you down.

“Me too, Connie said something happened with your squad, so I asked Hange about it and they told me everything,” His eyebrows were pulled into a worried furrow, “I wish you were in our squad.”

“Me too, but I like being with Hange too,” You stated honestly, “But it’s alright, everything worked out in the end.” 

“Yeah, but you almost fell off a cliff! Y/N if I lost you I’d…” He cleared his throat before shaking himself out of his thoughts, “I’m just glad you’re okay. You said you were looking for me, what for?”

“Oh! Um…” You looked around and saw Eren eavesdropping blatantly with a knowing look, causing you to quickly turn back around, “Can I talk to you in my room about something?” You shift your weight from side to side, visibly jittery. 

“Sure?” Jean was confused and noted you looked more flustered than before, but he couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong like he usually could. 

You walked side by side, passing Eren along the way who gave you both a smug wave. When Jean wasn’t looking you turned around and gave him the finger. The walk was silent and your hands brushed each other softly.

Once you were behind closed doors you felt yourself relax a little more. It was just Jean, you hyped yourself up. Even if he did reject you the worst thing that could happen is him make a stupid joke out of everything, but you doubt he would. You knew he at least respected you.

“So, what’s so serious that you needed to be away from nosy Yeager?” So he did see that ass listening, you thought. 

“Well… You know about my close call today… It got me thinking,” You started safely.

“You can think? Like, there’s a brain in there?” Jean acted surprised and grabbed your head teasingly.

“Shut up,” You laughed and slapped his hands away before adding, “It’s serious.”

“Okay,” He took a seat on your bed comfortably, an action that was not unusual, you hung out in each other’s room all the time. He gave you his full attention, no longer joking around.

“I thought about how at any moment we can die, that sounds morbid, but it’s true. And then I thought about all the stuff I haven’t done and all the things I haven’t said,” You explained further, still not getting to the point. 

“So, you want to make a bucket list?” Jean tilted his head, trying to follow, “That’d be fun.”

“No,” You rolled your eyes lovingly, “I, more specifically, thought about all the stuff we haven’t done together.” 

“Oh, you want to make a bucket list together!” Jean perked up.

“Jean stop trying to guess and let me explain,” You laughed and he complied, pretending to zip his lips shut.

“Jean,” You approached the man, invading his personal space, “I don’t want to die a virgin, do you?”

“No…” Jean blushed at the sudden topic change, wondering why on earth you were bringing that up right now.

“And…  I love you, and I know you'd treat me right,” You cupped his cheeks in your hands. You were standing in between his legs now, him leaning back on his hands looking up at you. He was tall, so he didn’t have to tilt his neck that much. 

“I love you too, what are you going on about?” His face was drawn in clear confusion, a cute expression, if he wasn’t being so frustrating. 

“No, Jean,” You leaned impossibly close, your face right in front of his, “I’m in love with you.” 

Then you boldly straddled him before you planted your lips on him.

You were shy, unsure if he would reciprocate the kiss, and it seemed like he wasn’t.  You panicked instantly. Your heart was pounding and you pulled away. You were terrified you screwed everything up. You looked at him and he seemed to be frozen.

“Jean?” You worriedly looked at your catatonic friend whose eyes were wide in shock, “I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry! Please don’t hate me!” You began to try to climb off him, but his hands shot to your hips, holding you in place.

“Y/N, you’re in love with me?” He still seemed to be stunned, or maybe he didn’t believe you, but he held your gaze with serious eyes. 

“Yes,” You made sure to keep eye contact despite the heat that rose to your cheeks, to make sure he knew you were dead serious. 

“Good,” One of his hands left your hips to your cheek. He guided your mouth back to his.

He was kissing you. He was actually kissing you. It was slow and sweet at first. He stroked your cheek lovingly and your lips slowly moved in sync. It was when you repositioned yourself on his lap, accidently grinding into him, when the kisses started to become more feverish. He groaned into your mouth and the hand left your face and found it’s new home on your ass. He squeezed it harshly, making you gasp. He took the opportunity to introduce his tongue to yours. He surprised you when he sucked on your tongue, making a small whimper escape you. 

Jean pulled away, taking in your flustered state with blown pupils of his own. Both of your lips were swollen and you both needed to catch your breath. 

“I love you too, you know?” Jean pushed some of your hair out of your face with a soft smile, “I figured you didn’t feel the same and wanted to just be friends, so I didn’t say anything.”

“I thought the same, or that you might still like Mikasa,” You admitted shyly, looking down where your bodies met.

“Hey,” He tilted your chin so you held eye contact again, “That was a stupid crush when I was kid, and I told you that ended a long time ago, didn't I? I’m in love with you.”

“We were so stupid keeping it to ourselves,” You laughed and Jean openly admired you in what looked like awe. His gaze made you feel bashful, almost wanting to hide your face with your hands.

“We were, I could have been kissing you so much sooner,” Jean mumbled, already leaning back to you. This time when your lips met your tongues danced together immediately. You knew Jean also didn't have much experience, but with the way he kissed it seemed like he did. 

"Did you mean what you said?" Jean pulled away only for a moment to ask before returning right back to your lips. 

You pulled away, trying to decipher what he was referring to. "Wha–" Your breath hitched when you felt Jean kiss your pulse on your neck. He began sucking on a particular spot that made you moan, surprising both of you. 

"You're so beautiful," He commented then explained, "Did you mean what you said about that virgin stuff?" He seemed shy all of sudden, his hands were sliding from your hips to your thighs, almost like he was trying to soothe himself.

"I meant every word," You said honestly, "I want to experience all of you."

"God," Jean seemed to like that statement, "I don't know what I'm doing, so just know I'm learning as I go. Just tell me what you like and don't like."

"Of course," You gave him a reassuring smile, "I'm not worried, I trust you."

"Good," He said again before spinning you around and lightly throwing you on your bed. He hovered over you, not putting much, if any weight on you. He resumed the make out session, but this time letting his hands wander.

He first tugged at your shirt, which you helped him quickly pull over your head. You hadn't worn a bra, assuming your plans for this evening were eating then just passing out. 

Jean seemed to drink your body in, just staring in lust and awe. 

"You can touch me," You tried to sound reassuring, but it sounded more like a beg. 

Jean took your breasts in his large hands and just felt you. You almost laughed at how mesmerized he looked, but that was when he latched his mouth on your nipple. That action seemed to send a current of electricity straight to the heat in between your legs. You arched your back and let out a surprised moan which made Jean quickly pull away. 

"Did I hurt you?" He looked scared.

"No, it feels good," You murmured as you unconsciously rolled your hips wanting friction.

"Oh, that's good," He shot you a grin before throwing his own shirt to the side. He went back to kissing your chest, this time his hand tweaked the nipple he wasn't sucking on, causing even more pleasure. You bit your lip only letting out whimpers, a little embarrassed of moaning so loudly again. 

"J-Jean," You stuttered out, gripping his broad shoulders.

"Hmm?" He hummed, he had been having fun leaving purple marks across your tits.

"I-I need…" You didn't finish.

"What do you need, princess?" He asked genuinely, but his deep tone sent shivers down your spine.

"More, I don't know," You admitted.

"Okay, don't worry," He gave you a peck, "I'll take care of you."

He began taking off your pants, helping you get them off your ankles. He stood to take off his own pants as you admired him. His body was so toned from the life of being a soldier. As you took him all in your eyes landed on the bulge that was very prominent in his briefs and for the first time you felt nerves about having sex with him. 

"Jean, how the hell is that supposed to fit in me?" You didn't even see it out of it's cage, you couldn't imagine that monster in action. 

"It has to fit right? People have sex all the time," Jean looked down at his own dick before looking at your panties with a frown, "I'll make sure to stretch you out with my fingers to help."

"What do you mean?" You blushed as Jean returned his body on top of you, giving you warmth again. This time putting a little more weight than last time. You could feel his restrained cock against you this time. 

"You know, fingering, you've done it to yourself before right?" Jean asked curiously. 

"I've tried, but I couldn't reach any particular spots that made me feel good, so I mostly just got off with my clit," You explained, a little embarrassed. 

"Well, I have long fingers," Jean began to slip off your last item of clothing. You gulped nervously, you now were exposed completely to him.

"So pretty, and you're wet," He groaned and looked back up to you, "Open your mouth."

You almost asked why, but you didn't want to kill the mood, so you complied. Jean slid two fingers into your mouth and you got the message. You wrapped your lips around his fingers and hollowed your cheeks, sucking on them. 

"Fuck," He sighed out and you felt him twitch against you. 

He pulled his fingers out and moved them back between your legs. He first slowly thrusted one finger inside you, to get you used to the unfamiliar feeling. The stretch wasn't too painful, and he was definitely right. His fingers were longer. 

He moved the one finger in and out of you slowly at first, picking up the pace as he continued. When he felt you relax completely he added a second finger. This time the stretch was a little more, making you tense.

"You're so tight," Jean was watching your pussy in wonder and slid his body down, so his face was near it. 

"What are you– Oh my God," Jean's lips sucked on your clit softly, then continuously kitten licked it, all while maintaining his finger thrusts.

"You taste good," Jean said it so casually, you'd think he was talking about the weather. He removed his fingers for a moment to get a better taste. He kissed you directly on your cunt before penetrating you with his tongue. He moaned against you, sending vibrations into you. You tried to unconsciously escape the pleasure, your thighs attempting to close, but Jean's large hands held you down. 

He returned his fingers inside you and this time adding a third. It stung more than before, but Jean's mouth on your clit made you forget all about the uncomfortableness. He began curling his fingers inside you reaching a spot that instantly had a knot forming in your stomach. Your hands shot around you, one gripping the sheets and the other in Jean's hair. 

He latched onto clit again and you gave up on trying to quiet your moans, embarrassment be damned, it felt too good.

"Jean," You moaned his name, which only made him moan back in return, "I-I'm going to…" You whined a little, not quite there yet, but right on the edge.

"You're going to cum?" Jean asked, not even completely pulled away from your clit to do so, "Go ahead and cum on my fingers, baby." He quickened his strokes and returned to your clit. It was just enough to send you over.

You grinded into his hand and cried out. Jean moaned too as if he was being pleasured just at the sight of you or maybe it was because of the sensation of your tight pussy clamping around his fingers. He couldn't help himself and licked up some of your release, making you jump. 

He moved back up to you with a content smile, "Did that feel good?" 

"Yeah," You smiled back through half lidded eyes, still buzzing from the pleasure.

He gave you a deep kiss and you could taste yourself on him. Tasting your own saccharine flavor was strangely erotic. 

Jean pulled away, "Is it alright if I take my cock out?" He asked beforehand just in case you changed your mind. 

"Yeah, of course, I want to see the monster that's going to destroy me," You joked and earned yourself a cocky smirk.

Jean took off the only clothing that was separating the two of you. You glanced down and saw his size more visibly now. You were right to be intimidated before, he was huge. Jean seemed to take note of your apprehensive expression so he returned to giving you some kisses in order to soothe you. 

“We’ll take it slow and if it’s too much just tell me,” Jean assured you which helped calm you down. 

“Okay, I’m ready,” Your eyes met as he began to rub the head up and down between your folds, collecting its wetness. He rubbed it over your clit and back down, making you feel particularly tingly. When he started pushing the head inside you had to remind yourself to not tense up, but it was hard. He was stretching a lot more than his fingers did. His cock added an unfamiliar pressure inside you that his fingers didn’t.

“God, that’s just the head and you're already squeezing me,” Jean threw his head back trying to regain composure. It was also his first time and he did not want to embarrass himself by finishing quickly. Also the gentlemen inside him wanted to feel you cum around him first.

He slowly continued to push further in as you grabbed his arms to brace yourself. When he finally bottomed out you swore you could see the bulge on your tummy. He kept still and waited for you to give him the go ahead even though he had the incredible urge to just thrust forward.

“You alright?” Jean's voice was more strained than usual.

“Yeah, why the fuck you gotta be so big, Jean,” Which only made Jean smile and give an apology kiss. You took a few more moments getting used to the stretch when the pleasure overtook the pain. You felt the veins on his cock inside you. You felt so full, but so good. You grinded into him trying to feel more and Jean noticed.

“I’m going to start moving now,” Jean warned and began pulling back before snapping his hips forward. You both cried out how he filled you up, your walls fluttering around him.

The pace was unrushed and steady to begin with. He withdrew his cock only to plunge it back into you, hitting you deep, in a repetitive matter. You felt the pleasure everywhere, all the way in your toes. 

You started meeting his thrusts, moving your hips in order to do so. Jean hitched your leg higher which only made you feel him deeper, hitting a sweet spot that caused you to gasp.

“You can go faster,” You said breathlessly, “Please, Jean, it feels so good.”

“Fuck,” Jean moaned back, his slow deep thrusts turned into a quick pounding. He continuously hit that new spot every time. Your whimpers turned into uncontrollable moans. Not wanting to make too much noise you buried yourself into the crook of his neck, sucking and biting his skin. 

You briefly looked down where your bodies met and saw him pumping out of you, your slick covering his cock and your thighs. The sight made your eyes roll back into your head.

“Please,” You moaned into Jean who brought his hand to your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“Please, what? What do you want, princess?” He grunted a bit after, not once did he lose his pace.

“I want… Ah… Please, I don’t know,” You felt like you could cry, you were right on the edge. You didn’t know what you needed, but you felt too good to try to figure it out. You figured he was close too by the way he was twitching inside your pussy and his thrusts became a little more desperate. 

“Open,” Jean brought his fingers back to your mouth, groaning at the sensation. He kept them there for a few more moments than necessary, just enjoying the way you looked with your pretty lips wrapped around him. 

Then he brought them between your legs and began rubbing your clit at the same pace he was thrusting into you.

“J-Jean, I’m gonna cum,” You grabbed his wrist, almost overwhelmed by the feeling. 

You cried out his name as your pussy milked him, triggering his own release. He groaned your name as he came. You felt the warmth of him spill deep inside you and it made your pussy tremble all the more. He gave a few final thrusts before slumping on top of you.

“Look at me while you cum, princess, come on, cum on my cock,” He encouraged you. You held eye contact for as long as you could, but when that coil in your tummy snapped you had to squeeze your eyes shut in absolute bliss.

“We definitely should’ve done that sooner,” He mumbled into your hair, making you giggle.

“Definitely,” You echoed back.

He slid out of you after that, making both of your bodies shudder at the loss of connection. You pussy still trying to pulse around something.

“I just showered,” You commented with a frown, looking at the mess between your legs. 

“I’ll go get a towel?” Jean offered, and you gave him a nod. He redressed quickly, kissed you deeply, then stated he would be back soon.

You threw your shirt back on while you waited. You felt so sleepy after that. Even though you wanted to feel clean, you wished you cuddled with Jean some more, already missing him.

After a couple more minutes the silence was broken.

 “I knew it!” You heard Eren’s familiar voice shout from outside your door and you sat up confused.

“Shut the fuck up before I hit you!” You heard Jean’s voice shout back and then a few more quieter exchanges that you couldn’t make out from the two men. Then your door opened fast, Jean slipping quickly inside, locking it behind him. In one hand he had a warm towel and in the other he had a new set of sheets. 

“What happened?” You pointed at the door and Jean scowled.

“Apparently those assholes bet on when we’d finally hook up,” Jean explained before cleaning you up. You blushed as he took care of you. Despite what just took place you still felt embarrassed. Jean noticed and just pecked your cheeks.

“That’s kind of funny, we should’ve placed our own bets,” You hummed and stood shakily, grabbing a new pair of underwear as Jean changed your sheets for you. 

“I can’t believe Eren won,” Jean frowned, but when your arms wrapped around him from behind he couldn’t help but smile.

“Will you stay with me? I kind of want to nap,” You mumbled into his back.

“Of course,” You both returned to your bed this time with more innocent intentions.

Jean laid on his back and you threw your arm around his chest and your leg over his, snuggling up into his side.

“I don’t want to die,” You murmured sleepily.

“You won’t,” Jean stated firmly.

“How do you know?” You looked up at him.

“Because we both have something to live for,” He met your gaze softly, before kissing your head again.

You told each other you loved another once again before you both fell asleep. It was a sleep where neither of you had the common nightmare about your untimely deaths. 

Instead it was a sleep where you both dreamt of the future you now could have with one another.

#this was so much more fluff than i wanted lol #aot smut #aot #aot jean #jean x reader #jean kirschstein #jean kirstein #jean kirschtein smut #attack on titan #mikasa ackerman #hange zoe #aot eren #eren aot #connie springer #arlert angel

[mysterystarz]

the romance checklist:

summary: a chance meeting with kageyama has you striking up a bet to see if one of you could fall in love with the other before the year was up. cue the romance checklist, a piece of paper that molded your fate and his.

pairing: kageyama tobio x g!n reader

word count: 3.2k

genres + themes: literally pure fluff, reader is a first-year karasuno student, reader is also kind of a romantic

warnings: none

a/n: so this is my first time writing for kageyama and i know he's probably pretty out of character, so my apologies!! this was inspired off some headcannons i wrote for one of my irl friends, and this wiki-how article which i used to structure the actual checklist! to all my lovely kags simps, this is for you <3 (also to all the people who hate angst, you lucked out bc i was about to add an angst part but got lazy)

You had never thought a trip to the vending machine could be so eventful.

It had been lunch break, and you found yourself wandering towards the machine, money in hand as your eyes trailed the snacks. It had become routine to sneak away during lunch hours for this, enjoying the fresh autumn breeze as you bought your snacks. It had always given you time to think and the time to recompose yourself when you didn’t have a clue what to do.

Usually it also provided you with time alone.

That wasn’t the case today though. Standing in front of the vending machines was Kageyama Tobio, frantically pushing the button for milk with a grumpy sort of scowl on his face. From the distance you stood, you could make out his height and the way he tapped his foot continuously, as if he didn’t have the time to wait for the milk to be dispensed from the spot.

Strolling up to the spot, you stood silently next to him, watching the way he retrieved the milk from the slot wordlessly as he walked away, not even a glance in your direction.

You knew full well who he was. In fact, you could barely walk through the halls of school without hearing a murmur about the prodigy setter and his closed off ways. The girls found him intriguing from afar, and while they never dared to approach him, they all wanted to.

You hadn’t really understood what they saw in him. He was average...if not below that in academics, and he seemed to dedicate most of his time to volleyball, not caring much for other people. He didn’t seem to have many friends, and was almost always grumpy.

All of this should’ve been reason enough to avoid him, and yet you couldn’t help but be intrigued. There was something about him that was different. You just needed to find out what that was.

The next day came around, and sure enough, he stood at the machine again, toe-tapping as his milk was dispensed from the slot. This time his eyes scanned the courtyard as if he was seeking something before they finally landed on you.

You weren’t prepared for the full impact of his gaze. It was calculated and pointed, with some sort of intent that was expressed in every inch of those dark blue eyes. You weren’t put off by it.

In fact, it was charming in its own way.

“Are you looking for something Kageyama?” You asked as you walked towards him, pulling a few yen out of your pocket. “You’re staring.”

“I’m not.” He deadpanned, his eyes still trained on you as you selected a snack from the machine’s buttons. “I see you everywhere. Who are you?”

You hadn’t expected that. You knew he was observant...when it came to volleyball specifically, but never realized how it translated anywhere else. “I’m Y/L/N Y/N.”

You weren’t sure what else to say to him. Gently grabbing your snack, you politely nodded at him before leaving him behind, the thoughts rapidly accumulating in your brain. Did he notice you the entire time? Why did he ask? Did he know something? Was he planning to use you as some example to the other girls who wanted to know him?

You wish you had an answer.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t think of any.

It had been two weeks since you had met Kageyama by the vending machines. It had now become routine to expect him there during your lunch breaks, milk box in hand as he regarded your very presence with something that felt a whole lot like curiosity. Every now and then he’d offer commentary on the mundane happenings of Karasuno, or ask about you, but you weren’t sure how you could hold a conversation with just these things.

“Kageyama.” You nodded, strolling towards the machine as you always did. He whipped around almost immediately, offering a solemn nod in return, clutching his milk box.

“Y/L/N.” He murmured, taking a sip of his box.

“Have you ever thought about love?” You found yourself asking, internally screaming at the word choice. Great, now he was going to think that you were some crazy person.

“I think so…?.” Was what he offered in response. His features seemed to soften at this question though as he scrunched his brows in thought. “What type of love?”

You raised a brow at him in question. “Kageyama...what type of love are you talking about?”

“Well...I love volleyball and milk.” He shrugged. “That counts.”

“That...wasn’t the type I was referring to.” You said, suppressing the laughter that bubbled into your chest. “I was talking about the other kind.”

���The other kind is stupid.” Kageyama replied instantaneously. “There’s nothing special to it.”

You felt confusion seep into your system before you quieted it, letting your mind wander. With Kageyama’s status, you assumed that he’d at least thought of the concept at least once, although it seemed that he’d never even pondered the idea altogether!

“You’d have to feel it to come to that conclusion,” you countered, “Have you?”

“No,” he scoffed, “It’s still stupid.”

“Why?” You asked, feeling the curiosity surface. “Any specific reason?”

“Why would anyone want to dedicate all their time to another person?” Kageyama asked straight back, his gaze unwavering. “I just don’t see the point.”

You stared back at him, feeling the challenge bubble in your veins. “I bet...I can make you fall in love with someone by the end of the school year.”

At that moment, the boy in front of you looked thoroughly surprised, throwing his empty milk box at the garbage can nearby. He seemed speechless to some extent, as if he wasn’t able to process the words that had just left your mouth.

“And what happens if you can’t?” He asked, hesitantly bringing his gaze to your face. “What then?”

“I’ll buy you milk for a whole month.” You placed your hands on your hip as you kept your glare firm. “I stick to that.”

“Okay then,” he sighed, “Game on.”

With a shake of your hands, you cemented your fate.

You would win that bet. That much was certain.

“What’s this Y/L/N?” Kageyama asked, pointing at the piece of paper you held at him. “How are you going to win a bet with this?”

The two of them stood in the courtyard of Karasuno, the fresh autumn breeze rippling the paper you held in your hand. It had been a good day so far, and Kageyama had surprisingly stuck to his resolve, meeting you at the vending machine when he could’ve easily avoided you.

It was always more fun to challenge a competent opponent.

“This is the romance checklist.” You grinned proudly. “This has all the things we need to get you to fall in love.”

“How is it fair if you don’t do the checklist’s things too?”

“Well, that’s why I’m doing them with you.” You responded, already anticipating these types of questions. “I drafted the checklist off of the things I’ve observed over the years that should totally lead to feelings of love!”

“Whatever.” Kageyama said, his blue eyes scanning the paper’s contents. “How do you plan to do this?”

“We follow the steps.” You nodded. “Since I’m doing this with you, it’ll be foolproof.”

“Y/L/N...what if we competed against each other?” He mumbled. “We follow the checklist and use it against each other. Whoever falls in love first loses.”

“Do you really want to risk that?” You smirked, “That’s a bold move you’re making.”

Kageyama stood up straighter at this, the challenge burning deep in his eyes. “I’m going to win, so it won’t be an issue.”

“Suit yourself,” you grinned. “I’ll be winning this anyways.”

He simply smirked as he looked down at the paper, the promise of a challenge fresh and bright between them.

STEP ONE: MEET SOMEONE

After a long time, you had finally gotten some free time away from schoolwork and the obligations that pinned you down. It was a rare occurrence with the amount of pressure that the college prep class placed on you, and you intended to make the most of it.

You found yourself on the pathway of a cafe you used to frequent in the summer with your friends. It had always been a place to collect your thoughts and let your worries float away with every sip of one of the immaculately crafted beverages that they offered there. You felt your lips twitch in an involuntary smile at the memories.

“Y/L/N?” You heard a voice call out, a shocking contrast to the normal chattering you heard within the shop. Looking up, you were met with Kageyama’s eyes, narrowed and confused as you sat at the table frozen. “What are you here for?”

“It's a break for me,” you shrugged, “I come here all the time. I haven’t seen you here before.”

“They have good drinks,” Kageyama replied bluntly. A few beats of silence passed between them, with neither of them knowing what to add to the conversation.

“You can sit down with me.” You offered, gesturing to the empty seat across from you. “The more the merrier.”

He didn’t question this as he slid into the seat, fingers drumming on the table as he looked at the window. From your point of view, it was almost picturesque the way he managed to appear. His blue eyes were focused on the trees outside, and his posture was ever so casual and relaxed as he sat there, as if he had no other care in the world.

It was unfair how model-like he managed to appear, even despite the fact he wasn’t trying.

Ah. Perhaps this is what the girls at school noticed.

Once the drinks arrived at your table, the two of them drank in comfortable silence, admiring the flavors on their tongues as their surroundings continued on as normal. You didn’t feel the need to contribute anything to the silence, finding it calming in its own right.

“So Kageyama, are you feeling anything yet?” You teased, setting down your half-empty cup.

“No.” He admitted, setting down his drink as well. “I am supposed to?”

“Well technically no, but it’d be good if you did.” You chuckled, finding amusement in the cluelessness of his ways. “Step one of the romance checklist: meet somebody.”

“We already met though.” He countered, “How does this count as anything?”

“Well, we just encountered each other out of nowhere.” You smiled, “That counts as a meeting in my book.”

He wrapped his mind around this information, nodding solemnly. “I guess so then. I still don’t feel anything.”

“Neither do I.” You said, willing the slight butterflies in your stomach to subside. It was really nothing. This was simply a chance meeting, nothing more than luck and fate that had you encounter each other today of all days.

You shouldn’t have been affected this quickly. You felt far too warm, far too...fuzzy, for a meeting of chance. It was simply far too intimate.

Well, it seemed that Kageyama had gotten the one upon you at this stage.

You’d beat him next time. You knew you would.

STEP TWO: FLIRT

“You look good today Kags,” you smirked, feeling a sense of satisfaction creep up in your veins at his flushed cheeks,

Over the course of the weeks spent together, you had been able to learn more about the mysterious boy in front of you and had even formed a friendship of sorts. For starters, he was flustered very easily, which is why you decided to make your move so early in the morning.

“I look like how I do every day, dumbass!” He growled, the red deepening in his cheeks when you merely winked in response.

Ah yes. He tended to insult those he befriended. That was yet another endearing thing about the boy in front of you.

“No, something is different today,” you commented, “Did you do something with your hair?”

“No,” he frowned, the flush never subsiding from his cheeks. “Why are you doing this to me?”

“I’m just saying genuine things you know.” You laughed, punching his shoulder casually. “Besides, I think I’m succeeding so far.”

“Succeeding? This is that stupid checklist again, isn’t it?” He sighed. “Step two: flirting. What is the point of this again?”

“It’s to show interest.” You remarked. “Besides, if you want me to fall for you, you’re going to at least have to act like you’re interested in me. I know it’s working on you so far.”

“No it’s not!” He yelled, although the defense was half-hearted. You knew he was merely putting up a front. You could tell it from his body posture alone.

You had the upper hand right now.

You waved him goodbye as you entered the Karasuno grounds, climbing the stairs to reach your class as he walked in the opposite direction. Even if you had the upper hand right now, you knew that you had to be on-guard the rest of the day.

If there was one thing you knew very well in the time you had spent with Kageyama, it was that he was extremely competitive. There was no way he’d ever go down without a fierce fight, especially when a month’s worth of milk was on the line.

You had been absolutely right to doubt him.

When lunchtime rolled around, he stood at the vending machine like he always did, leaning against it casually as he waited for you, his focus placed on the entrance.

The first thing you noticed was how calm he was. There was none of his usual frantic energy or the practiced insults that you threw back at one another. He simply stood there, content, as he watched you make your entrance.

The second thing you noticed was how an unconscious smile crept onto his face when you waved at him and slipped away the minute your eyes darted to his mouth. He sipped his milk casually, although you knew that internally, he was definitely scheming.

He could be a gremlin if left untapped.

You were about to purchase your snack in silence, thinking about all the ways he could win against you when you felt his hand on your shoulder. Turning around, you saw him holding out a container of your favorite snack, handing it to you wordlessly.

What?

“I thought I would get it today,” he shrugged, taking a sip of his milk. “You’ve bought me milk sometimes. It’s only fair.”

He didn’t consider it much of a big deal, but you felt your heart begin to accelerate in its pace at the thoughts that came flying into your head.

He had paid attention to your favorite snack? He had actually cared about when you bought him milk?

He noticed all of this?

“You...have a nice smile.” He mumbled, a flush rising onto his cheeks once again. You felt yourself fluster a bit at the compliment, not used to hearing it that often.

“Uhhh thanks.” You exhaled, not knowing how to respond to such an out-of-the-blue remark. “Your smile looks a lot like the Cheshire cat you know.”

For a moment his face was contorted into an expression of horror before he laughed a bit, the low chuckles sending heat straight to your cheeks.

Damn it. His laugh was adorable.

It was a low chiming sound, but it still managed to uplift your spirits in the brief time that you heard it. It was absolutely perfect.

You’d like to hear it again if you could.

A small smile was on his face as he looked to the ground, thinking about something while you took the time to really look at him. Behind the stone exterior, was someone talented, clueless, and amusing in every way you could possibly imagine.

You noticed how his posture mirrored yours, and the way how he smiled when your eyes finally met his own.

Damn it! He got the one-up on you. Again.

STEP THREE: GO ON THRILLING DATES

“Tobio! Let’s go on this one!” You yelled as you dragged him towards the large rollercoaster that caught your eye.

It was a beautiful Saturday with the most perfect weather. Sunny skies met a fresh breeze as you dragged Kageyama around the amusement park you had insisted on going to together. He kept with your quick pace as you went from ride to ride, never once letting go of his hand.

If anything, you were more confused why he didn’t comment on the fact that you had been holding hands that long. Rather he silently followed you from ride to ride, occasionally commenting on how small it looked for them.

From where you stood, the rollercoaster looked positively incredible with the multiple loops and drops in its track. This certainly fit the bill for thrilling. Maybe Kageyama could finally agree to ride this one.

“Y/N, do we really have to do this one?” He asked, his gaze not tearing away from the ride. “Doesn’t it look a bit too small for us?”

“Well if it’s too small, then we can still ride it as a joyride, don’t you think?” You grinned as you shoved him into the line of the coaster. Soon enough, it was your turn as you were ushered into the seats while the employees strapped you and Kageyama into the rollercoaster.

The wait was excruciating, with every second that passed sending a wave of anticipation and adrenaline through your system. Looking to your side, you saw Kageyama’s face, which was composed, even though his fingers drummed rapidly on the bar.

Was he nervous?

Hesitantly, you reached to clasp your hands together, relishing in the feeling of your palm on his as the rollercoaster suddenly began moving, bringing you up the tall lift hill.

“Tobio, are you okay?” You questioned as you neared the top, the grip he had on your hand tightening ever so slightly.

“I’m fine!” He yelled, just as the roller coaster fell over the lift hill, sending them into a plummeting drop.

You felt the exhilarating feeling of soaring as the ride propelled you forward, shouts of glee leaving your mouth ever so often. On the other hand, all you heard from Kageyama was the occasional shout of horror when they encountered yet another drop on the track, the grip he had on your hand deathly tight.

“Tobio! You’re afraid of rollercoasters?!” You shouted as you were guided into a loop.

“No I’m not!” He shouted back, shutting his eyes when he was finally upright again. “They just make me feel like I’m about to die!” When he opened his eyes, they first found yours in a look that was both petrified and fond. “I think I lost the bet!”

“You did what?!” You yelled as the wind rippled in your ears again.

“The bet Y/N! I think I’m in love with you!” He yelled. “I thought I should tell you before we die!”

You felt your heart soar at the words that had just been exchanged, a testament to the budding feelings you had felt for months around him.

“We’re not going to die.” You sighed as the ride finally slowed, feeling exhilarated as you smiled at him. “I love you too.”

Stepping off the rollercoaster, Kageyama was more silent than anything, red flush adorning his cheeks as you massaged soothing circles onto his hand. “We both lost it in the end.” You laughed.

“I think it was worth it,” he chuckled, the beautiful chime, showing you that he meant every word.

©mysterystarz all rights reserved, please do not plagiarize, translate, or modify my fics in any way even if credited

taglist (bold cannot be tagged): @moi-bunni @kousukii @littlecatfairy @iwasunshine @kawaii-angelanne @haikyuutothetop @dearkousei @catchmewiddershins @perqabeth @sunarinluvr @elektrosonix @milktyama

reblogs are very appreciated <3

#nova scribbles <3 #kageyama x reader #hq kageyama #hihqnetwork #kageyama fluff #tobio headcanons #tobio scenarios #kegayama tobio #tobio x reader #tobio x y/n #kageyama x y/n #reader x haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyu imagines #haikyuu #tobio fluff