#my sister also had a few older brothers unrelated to us & some sisters as well

[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

[emf005]

Cramps

James Sirius Potter x Female! reader

Warnings: Puberty, James being the cutest thing ever, pain, couple cuss words for pizzaz(Maybe)

:readmore:

“Oi! Y/L/N!” You smiled as you saw the one and only James Sirius Potter strutting up the hallway with his band of trouble makers behind him. Most of them were his family, but a few were unrelated family members(Very Very close friends.)

“Oi! Potter!” You called back teasingly.

“Having a bad hair day today?” He smirked, looking you up and down. You rolled your eyes and touched your crappily put in braid. It may have looked like it, but you weren’t having a bad hair day. You were just crap at doing hair.

“Nope. Having a hard time coming up with insults? Am I too perfect for the James Potter to insult me?” You joked. You always took the teasing light heartedly. You listened to this song over the summer called Sarcasm. It was pretty good. But one of the lines that stood out to you were “Sticks and stones can break my bones but anything you say will only fuel my lungs”. It wasn't like you let him get to you before this, but you had only rarely hit him back with a come back. Now, you always threw one back.

“Ha! Perfect? You? Those two words shouldn’t be in a sentence together, Y/L/N.”

“You’re right,” you nodded, leaving him confused. You strode off down the hall with a swing in your hips. “Perfect is too dull of a word to describe me, Sweetheart!” You called over your shoulder with a wink. You disappeared behind the corner as you heard his friends laughing.

They knew you were light hearted about it. You were actually pretty close with a few of them. But James was competitive in everything. And for some reason he had chosen you to be his muse for picking on. You didn’t know why, nor did you actually care. You always liked a bit of banter, especially around this time of the month. And no, you weren;t a werewolf (Though you would gladly take that over having your period)

See, all periods come with their… side effects. Hormones bounce crazily off the walls and make some moody. Some get cramps. Some get both. Some break out and others(A very few minority) just have it without anything to think about. You had it worse than anyone.

Cramps. That may have been all you got, but they were so bad that walking, breathing, talking, or even moving could be impossible. You were once nearly paralyzed for a whole week and a half. You only moved to go to the bathroom. Your mom had to actually feed you. You were a very active person, you can only imagine how insane that made you.

Madame Pomfrey, your great Grandmother and god mother because that woman is a queen, always took care of you during these times and often threw things at you because you weren’t taking good enough care of yourself. You loved the woman dearly, but wow could she yell at you.

You watched James and his crew head down to the quidditch pitch for practice while you skipped down to Hagrid's. You loved to play quidditch but never wanted to play on the team. You knew you weren’t good enough for that and you would rather have just messed around with some friends.

“Hey Hagrid!” You said happily and plopped down by a pumpkin. He turned around from tending his garden and smiled at you.

“ ‘ello, Y/N. How ‘er you today?”

“Alright I guess. How about you? Any new creatures come crawling around?”

“Not yet. But I suspect they’ll show up soon.”

“Need any help?”

“You know where the tools are.” You hopped up, but not too fast because.. Well.. you know, and grabbed a pair of gloves and shoved them in your pocket in case he let you tend to the Biting thorns again. You had a knack for everything Herbology and Magical creates. You were Professor Longbottom and Hargrid’s favorite student, you knew it. I mean, you definitely were, no doubt.

About three hours later you started to get a stabbing pain in your lower stomach, losing your breath for a moment.

Shit

“Hey, Hagrid, I think I’m going to clean up before dinner. I only have a few minutes and I doubt anyone wants to be sitting next to my smelly butt.” You laughed, the stabbing getting worse.

“I’ll see ya there, Y/N! Thanks fer tha help!”

“Anytime!” You jogged away from him and a relaxing Fang so you could visit your great gran. Well, she wasn’t technically related to you. She was a close friend of your grandmother’s. They had gone to school together and been (And still were) closer than sisters. You grew up with her and she had become very over protective of you.

You waltzed into the hospital wing with a smile on your face. You were used to the stabbing pains. You had a very high pain tolerance, I mean, you had to.

“Gran!” You yelled out, not even flinching when you felt another annoying stab.

Madame Pomfrey came walking over to you with her arms crossed over her chest.

“You haven’t come to see me all week. Does this mean that you have finally come to your senses?”

“Oh, you make such a big deal out of everything. I barely have felt anything so far, and plus it's only Wednesday, perhaps I was just busy.” She gave you a knowing look. She always knew. You didn’t know how, but she always did. “Well, anyhow, I was helping Hagrid and the stabs were a bit worse than normal. Got anything that’ll just subside that?”

“I have the potion you should've been taking since the beginning of the week, young lady.”

“It's nothing major, Gran. Just something small. I don’t need the whole nine yards.” She sighed. You were the only person who she would give into.

“Fine, but don't come crying to me when you are hurting so badly that you can't move.” She was about to walk away when the doors banged open. You two looked over and saw James and his crew walking in. Madame Pomfrey sighed. “What is it now, Mr. Potter?”

“Don’t know I-”

“Fell off your broom and landed wrong while you were trying to do some wicked trick. I know. Set him on the table. I’ll be there in a-”

“I have to take a shower, Madame Pomfrey. I’ll come back later. Feel better, James! Hi guys!” You waved at them all and jogged off, ignoring your gran calling after you. Oh, yeah, another thing about you. You really didn’t like attention. You also didn’t like the fact that there was someone in more need of help than you and you were getting the help first. James needed more help than you did, you would just come back later… You thought you would.

You had planned to go back after dinner, but you didn’t. A friend asked you with help on the Divination homework. You decided to go the next day. Asked to help first years. Friday? No. Dueling club and extra studying. Before you knew it, it was Saturday and you were in so much pain. But you just kept going.

You were headed down to the quidditch pitch to watch Lysander and a few of his buddies play against Albus and Scorpius and a few of their friends. It was just a scrimmage, nothing major, but they all liked to have an audience. And since they all knew and liked you, they asked if you wanted to join. What you didn’t count on was James being there.

“Well well well. Look who we got here?” You looked over to see James, alone, walking over to you.

“Hey, James.” You said a bit weakly and short of breath.

“You alright?” You just nodded. He seemed to get more concerned. “Are you sure? You don’t look so good?” You laughed.

“Yeah well, I have my good days and my bad ones,” you joked, thinking he was teasing you again. He wasn't.

“Y/N. Stop for a second.” You did and turned to him.

“Are you sure you're alright? You look really pale and tired.”

“I’m fine. I promise.” You smiled and continued down to the pitch with him besides you. That's when the worst one you have had in a while hit you with full force, knock every ounce of wind out of you.

You collapsed and held your stomach, trying to take deep breaths like you had taught yourself to do.

“Y/N!” You felt a hand on your back and another on your arm.” What's wrong? What happened?”

“N-nothing. I’m-Ah!” You collapsed completely to your knees. The throbbing hurt so bad. It was like someone was digging a knife in you and just twirling it around.

“Obviously something. What can I do?”

“Take-take me to-to Gran. Please.”

“Gran, who's Gran?”

“Sorry. Madam Pomfrey.” He nodded and helped you up, putting an arm around you to keep you up.

“You're explaining that to me later.” You laughed, which only made it worse. “Can you walk faster? You're getting paler by the second.”

“This is… as fast… as I can… go.”

“Here,” he moved in front of you and bent down. “Get on my beck, it’ll be faster, alright?”

“James you really don’t have-”

“I want to. Come on.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and he, carefully, hoisted you up. He quickly walked to the hospital wing, being cautious as to not bump you around too much. “Madame Pomfrey!” He yelled when he banged the doors open like he always does. A dramatic entrance for a dramatic boy. You heard the oh so familiar sigh.

“What did you do this time, James?” She walked around the corner and saw you on James' back, her eyes widened in horror and she quickly moved into action. “Put her down here,” she opened up a section and he set you down carefully. She quickly ran away and started to gather stuff. James stood beside your bed and stared at you oddly.

“What?”

“What happened? You seemed fine the other day. Are you sick or-”

“I’m really fine, it's just.. Um… girl stuff?” His eyes widened in understanding (Not horror).

“OH! Oh Merlin, are you ok? What do you need, like literally anything?” You furrowed your eyebrows.

“It's just cramps,” you shrugged, confused by his reactions. Normally anything under the topic of puberty or periods boys were off running. Even your own brothers.

“Not just cramps, young lady.” Your gran scolded and walked in, holding a bottle of the potion you were supposed to be taking. It really didn’t do much. And it tasted horrible. “These are getting worse as you get older.” You glanced at James.

“Ok. You don’t have to be talking about this with him here. No offence.” He just shrugged.

“You have to start taking this seriously!”

“Gran, I do! I was just busy!”

"You came in and then you left without taking it, telling me you would be back!”

“I got side tracked! And James was in more pain than I was!” Your voice was horse and it was getting harder to talk and breathe. She handed you the potion and you chugged it.

“You left because of me?” James asked. You swallowed the rest of the foul tasting liquid.

“You needed her attention. And then someone needed help on homework and it just” you coughed, making your stomach knot again. “Got out of hand.”

“Thank you for bringing her up, Mr. Potter. You can leave.”

“But-”

“She needs her rest.”

“Tell the boys I’m sorry I missed the game.” He hesitated but nodded and left. Your Gran scolded you for a few moments before she left and told you to get some sleep, which you did.

The next day your friends visited you and you ignored the pains. They weren’t as bad as yesterday’s, but they were still pretty bad.

Soon they left and that just left you sitting hour after hour. You were still awake when it was one in the morning and you heard footsteps coming towards your bed. You figured it was your gran coming to check on you so you shut your eyes and pretended to be asleep.

They set something on the table and you opened your eyes seeing James.

“James?” He was startled and jumped a bit. He looked down at you with guilt on his face.

“Sorry,” He whispered. “Did I wake you?” You sat up slowly.

“No. I’ve been up. Kind of hard to sleep.” You moved over and motioned for him to sit, which he did.

“Cause of the…”

“Cramps?”

“Yes.”

“Yep. You know, you’re a lot cooler with this stuff than a lot of boys your age are.”

“I never understood that. I mean, it's something that happens. Why do guys have to be so weird about it? Plus my little sister goes through it so…”

“That's right! Your sister’s Lily.”

“Yeah. She gets pretty bad cramps too, but not as bad as you, I think.”

“No one gets them as bad as me, which I’m grateful for.”

“So the potion doesn't really work?”

“Takes a bit of the edge off, but other than that? No.”

“I’m sorry.” You just shrugged and shifted. “Is there anything I can do to help?” You smiled.

“You’re sweet, James. But, I’m afraid not.”

“Well, I do know one thing I can do.”

“What?” He grabbed whatever he had sat on the bedside table and set it on your lap. It was a basket full of chocolates. Your eyes lit up at the sight.

“Holy Merlin! Where did you get all this?”

“I have my ways. I remember Lily said chocolate always makes her feel better so I figured it would help you too.”

“Wow. James! Thank you! Can I…”

“No. Absolutely not. I just brought it down here so that it can stare you in the face. You aren’t allowed to eat one piece of it.” You smirked at him and didn;t reach for a piece, just to see what he would do. “Oh my go, I was joking.” You laughed.

“I know I know!” You grabbed two pieces and handed one to him. He looked at it and then back up at you before taking it. You opened your piece quickly and bit into it. “Eat! Come on, you are stayen for a bit aren’t ya?”

“Why would you want me to?”

“Because you're my friend.”

“Why would you consider me that?”

“Because you helped me out a lot and you gave me food. We also talk all the time. Why? You don’t want to be friends?”

“I figured you wouldn’t want to be mine.”

“Why?”

“Because I’ve bullied you countless times.”

“That was just playful banter. I've seen you bully people. You were just teasing me.” He stared down at the candy.

“But still…”

“James, listen. I want to be your friend. If you don’t want to be mine I guess that's alright, but I've always wanted to be your friend.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. You seem really cool. And you are really nice. I've seen you with your siblings and your friends and have always been kinda jealous. I've never really had that," you shrugged and took another bite from your chocolate bar.

"You have all sorts of friends, though."

"Yeah but I'm kind of the replaceable friend. And then my family is a bucket load of insane. So I guess I’m sort of jealous. Like this.” you motioned to the chocolate and at him. “I have been having this happen since first year and my friends come in once to check on me unless they need help on something. I guess it's kind of childish, but-”

“No.” You looked at him, a bit shocked at his tone. “That's not childish at all! How are they your friends if you’re in pain and they don’t come to see you unless they need something?”

“James, it's not that big of a deal. I have a high pain tolerance and plus I have gran worrying over me.”

“Oh please explain that to me. You're her granddaughter?”

“Well, sort of. Great granddaughter, and honorary. Her and my grandma were as close as sisters when they went to Hogwarts and stayed that way throughout life. And when I lost my great gran and both my nans, she stepped up. Very over protective of me.” He smirked and leaned on his legs.

“I’d say. ‘Get out, Potter. I appreciate you bringing her up but I don’t want you here.” he mimicked her voice, and not too terribly. You started to laugh, making your stomach knot in protest. You groaned and fell back on your bed. “Oh! Sorry. Do you need another pillow? More blankets? Chocolate?” You smiled gratefully at him.

“No. Just gotta wait it out. Thank you though.” You smiled at him gratefully and you two talked until you fell asleep. He smiled, finding it odd how much he actually liked you. Every “conversation” he had he always enjoyed. Always enjoyed your banter in the halls and in class, but he had never actually talked to you before.

He stood up and pulled the blanket over you more so that your shoulders and arms were covered. He put the chocolate on the bedside table and brushed the wrappers off of the bed so that it wasn’t a mess when you woke up in the morning.

He then snuck out of the infirmary and back into his dorm room. James was surprised to see that his last thought before falling asleep was of you and hoping you felt better. He really hadn’t realized how much fun you were.

You weren’t in classes that day. Madame Pomfrey seemed to be punishing you and kept you in bed, bringing you meals from the great hall while you survived on James’ chocolate. You were reading over your notes when someone cleared their throat. You looked up, chocolate half in your mouth, to see James standing with a plate and his school bag.

“Hi James! Back already?” He laughed and sat down where he had sat the other day.

“You weren’t in class or the great hall. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”

“That's sweet. Thank you. I’m feeling lots better, but Gran won’t let me go to classes yet. She wants to monitor me and make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

He slid the plate of food and your face lit up. Sweets and meats, your favorite.

“Figured you would be hungry.”

“Starved! Yet again, thank you.”

“It's what friends do,” he said with a nod. You smiled happily. Friends. You had finally made it to friends with James Sirius Potter. “I also brought notes. In case you wanted to copy them.” He pulled his notes from his bag and handed them to you. You grabbed it and started to flip through the surprisingly clean and crisp notes. This boy took better notes than you do. That was unexpected.

“Thank you, James! I was a bit worried I was going to be overrun again.” He shrugged and stole a swipe of Mashed Potatoes off your plate. You smirked at him but didn’t say anything.

He sat and talked to you while you ate and then helped you with homework when you set your plate aside and started to work on notes.

“Here. Like this.” He moved next to you up by the head board and held your wrist, showing you the proper hand motions for DADA. You tried to focus on the correction and not your burning cheeks.

Damn hormones.

“There you go. Now try it without a helping hand.” You shoved him and laughed.

“That was terrible!” He smiled crookedly, fixing his glasses.

“Yeah, but you laughed.’ You bit your lip and shook your head.

“You, sir, are utterly ridiculous.”

“Oh, I’m sir now.” He joked, settling back by your feet. You kicked his leg lightly. “OW! OH MERLIN SHE KICKED ME! I THINK MY LEGS COMING OFF!” He fell to the ground dramatically causing you to burst out from laughter and your stomach to continue to knot up over and over, but you couldn’t stop. He was twitching dramatically on the ground like a dork.

Madam Pomfrey came over and tapped her foot agitatedly.

“This is no place for fooling around, Mr.Potter. Either stay and behave or leave.” She turned and cast you a glance before walking away. You two burst out laughing when you heard her door shut. He popped back up onto the bed.

“So, what have you been up to? I've caught you up on all you’ve missed.” You just shrugged.

“Studying. It's really all I can do. She won’t even let me stand up.”

“Well that's no fun. You haven’t even been outside?”

“Nope. Her one rule is stay in the bed. Not allowed to stand, unless it's to go to the bathroom, which has to be the one in this room.”

“Why so specific.”

“Second year I went to the restroom, on the fourth floor on the other side of the castle.” James chuckled and looked over his shoulder.

“Well, how about we make her get even more specific?”

“What did you have in mind?” He snuck over to where the wheel chairs were and rode it over. A wide grin spread across your face.

“Your carriage awaits.” You laughed and quickly hopped in. He then ran, pushing you in front of him. You two ran through the castle laughing like mad people.

“What's this?” Fred asked, a smirk on his face as he and Erinie Longbottom came out of the great hall.

“Never thought I’d see you two get along, let alone laughing.”

“Mischief is mischief.” James shrugged and stood up on the back of the wheelchair.

“Madame Pomfrey has forbidden me from walking.” You explained. “James just wanted to get me into some trouble.” Ernie looked at the wheel chair, a slow grin spreading on his face.

“Why don’t we all get into some trouble then.” He cast a spell on the wheels on the wheel chair before making three more appear. “Now, you can control it on your own and so can we.” He sat down in his and went zooming off. You, Fred, and James watched with smiles on your faces. They quickly sat into theirs and the three of you chased after Ernie. Who knew you would become such quick friends with James and that would leave you to get into a bit of mayhem with him.

You four raced down the halls but all stopped abruptly by a tapping of a foot. You all looked up to see Madame Pomfrey standing there with her arms folded across her chest. You swore under your breath.

“Madame Pomfrey!” Ernie squeaked and fell out of his chair. “Uh, we didn’t see you there?” You shook your head at the lame excuse.

“Madame Pomfrey I-”

“You, with me, now.” You sighed and rolled after her. Waving bye to the boys. They waved back and watched you go.

“So.” Fred said with a smirk on his face. “Finally come to your senses?”

“Shut up.” James muttered, feeling a bit guilty that you were the only one who got into trouble. It had been his idea after all.

“I told you that it wasn’t a smart idea to get out of your bed!” Your gran scolded as she wheeled you into the Hospital wing.

“Technically you said I wasn’t allowed to stand up unless it was to use the restroom. I was not standing up, I was sitting down. And what's the big deal? I’m fine! It's almost over anyhow!” She groaned in frustration. “Gran, I’m in 5th year. I think I can make decisions for myself now.” She looked at you for a moment before sighing.

“Alright. But, you have to promise me, when you start to get bad you will come straight-Oh!” You hugged her tight around the waist and she patted your head.

“Thank you, Gran.”

“Yes yes. And you should be careful around that Potter boy.”

“Which one?” You asked cheekily.

“Now don’t you get cheeky on my young lady. You know what I’m talking about. Don’t you go falling in love with him. I’ve actually had girls come in because they said that he broke their heart. Like his name sakes,” she shook her head and walked away leaving you thinking.

You wouldn’t get a crush on James, would you? I mean, sure he was tall and cute and a dork with an adorable personality that kind of made your heart flutter. But that didn’t mean you- You smacked your head.

“Dammit. How could I have let that happen?” You muttered to yourself. You silently cursed your gran. You had been blissfully unaware and now you were very much aware that you had a tiny crush on James Sirius Potter. This ought to go over well.

Xx

Over the years you had only grown closer to James and his friends. Mostly James though. It was rare not to see you two together. You both would jam pack your schedules so you would have each other in classes. You knew he did it because of your cramps and how you didn’t really discuss it with anybody or like to bring it up. So when they got too bad and you couldn’t go to classes he would bring you your notes and help you study, like you didn;t help each other study any how. But now, now it was all going to change. You had passed your last year at Hogwarts and were now lying on your couch in pain. You had taken the potion your gran had sent you but the potion had seemed to do less and less over the years while James had done more and more.

You had a pile of letters in the corner that he had sent you. You two had sent back and forth non-stop, both of you now having your own separate apartments that were, sadly, not very close to each other. Of course, you could just apparate to the others house but you wouldn’t really do that on a daily basis, sadly.

You had sent him a letter the other day and found it weird you hadn’t gotten one in response yet, but you weren;t the most important thing in his life, sadly. As you and James had grown more attached, your crush on him had grown and grown and grown. Being away from him for so long, This was your first month, and knowing that you weren’t going back on September first to see him and your other friends was killing you. How could people live without knowing if they would ever go back to Hogwarts? It may sound cheesy and a bit cliche, but it was and forever will be your home.

There was a knock on the door as another wave hit you and now you had to stand up and pretend you were alright. You looked at your empty chocolate bag, you really should’ve stocked up after the last time.

You opened the door and leaned heavily on it as you looked up into the familiar glass covered eyes.

“James!?” He beamed happily.

“Miss me that much? We’ve only been out of school for about a month.” You chuckled and shook your head.

“You’re such a dork. What are you doing here?” He held up a abox.

“Figured you would have forgotten to restock since Hogwarts, like you always do.”

“How do you remember these things? And why would you want to?” You opened the door and let him in. He strode in and looked around your apartment. He wasn’t familiar with it yet.He set it down on the kitchen counter and jumped up onto it to look around the place, nodding in approval.

“Nice place.”

“You say that everytime you come over.” You said sarcastically as you grabbed the jacket you had thrown on the floor after work. It caused your stomach to cramp and you were stuck for a second because you were trying to breathe.

“Ok, couch, now.” James said, grabbing your arms and leading you over to the couch, setting you down and taking your jacket.

“James, you really don’t have to-”

“Yeah I do. Stay.” He left your side and went to the box. “Did you take the potion?”

“Yeah. Did nothing as usual.” You whined, he sat back down and opened the box, pulling out two candy bars and handing you one, like he always did, and keeping one for himself.

“Sorry, kid.”

“I am like a week younger than you!”

“A month and a half,” he corrected. You glared and bit into your chocolate, making him laugh and look around your apartment until his eyes landed on a moving picture you had put up. It was from the first year you two became friends. He walked over to it and took it off the wall. “You still have this?” You smiled.

“Of course! That was the first Weasley Summer I had! It was the best summer of my life!” You laughed lightly smiling at the memory of James trying to get you on a broom. And then you had crashed into four trees until you semi-got the hang of that.

“Didn’t you get a concussion from that summer?”

“Don’t know, wouldn’t let anyone check.” You laughed, your stomach cramping again, but not as bad as usual. He smiled and hung it back on the wall. He sat back down next to you.

“How've you been, though? You always sound like you're doing great in your letters.”

“It's been alright. Adult life isn’t terrible and my job’s pretty fun. I've been thinking about getting a dog.”

“Really?” He asked excitedly.

“Yep, and I was going to name it Sirius.” His face turned disappointed.

“You know, I brought you chocolate, you can at least be a bit nicer to me.” you giggled.

“I’m joking, I'm joking. But yeah. I do want a dog.”

“Get lonely up here already?”

“Definitely. How are you? You seem like you are having a good time in your letters. Var hopping every weekend.”

“You can join us. We’d love to have you hang with us.” You shrugged.

“Well, definitely not this weekend.”

“No, definitely not. Though you look like you could use a bottle of fire whiskey.”

“I need two.” He laughed and put his arm around your shoulders, you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I felt ya there.”

The rest of the night, James hung out with you. Chocolate and talking and radio and, when you were feeling up to it, he made you dance with him because he’s the biggest jerk in the world.

It was now near midnight and you two were on the couch listening to old muggle records because why not. You were half asleep on James’ chest. He was playing with your hair and humming along to the song. It was a familiar position for you two. Madame Pomfrey had once caught you two like this, though James had been the only one awake. She had looked at him and then at you back in sixth year.

“Be careful there, Mr. Potter. I do not want her getting hurt.” And then she turned and left. He had planned on telling you that morning, but the thought that he would hurt you in any way had kept him from saying anything. But now… Now he couldn't help it. The smell of your shampoo and the way you smelt like chocolate and… and he couldn't help it. This had been the most fun he had had since Hogwarts had left out. All because he was with you.

“Y/N?” He whispered, just in case you were asleep. He knew how hard it was for you to actually fall asleep when you got these cramps.

You hummed in response. Half asleep, but not completely. He took a breath.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You hummed again.

“I love you.” He didn’t get a response this time and thought you had fallen asleep. He was a bit relieved that you hadn’t heard. The other part was a bit disappointed.

“What?”

Shit.

“I-I love you.”

You sat up and looked him in the eye. He knew this look. You were trying to detect a lie, he let you look. And boy, did you take your time.

“You-You do?”

“I do. I get it if you don’t in return but I just had to-” You grabbed his collar and pressed his lips to your quickly. His eyes widened in surprise before he quickly kissed you back. You pulled apart and both of you were smiling messes.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that.” You said, biting your lip.

“Seriously?” He pulled back from you with wide eyes. You nodded nervously. “How long?”

“The first time you helped me, I guess. And I wouldn’t have even realized it if Gran hadn’t said anything to me.”

“You’re joking.” You shook your head.” He kissed you again, taking you by surprise.

“Why? How long for you?”

“End of fifth. I was going to tell you in sixth but…”

“But what?” You looked at him. “James…”

“Your Gran scared me.”

“What did she do?” You sighed.

“Nothing!”

“James, I am too tired, what?”

“She just told me not to hurt you.” You frowned and looked at your hands.

“And you planned to?”

“No! No no no no.” He pulled your face up to his and smiled. “I was scared that I might. I got scared that I would be the reason you were in pain. I didn’t want that. I didn’t even want to think that I would be the reason for that. So, I thought it was better to not do anything but be there for you.” You stared at him for a moment and bit your lip, thinking over and being completely touched. And you believed him. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

“I-I was scared.” You rested your head on his shoulder to hide your face, embarrassed that your feelings had been reciprocated this whole time.

“Of what?”

You muttered something that he didn’t catch.

“Come on, I spilled my heart out to you, your turn.”

“That I’d lose the best friend I've ever had.” You muttered a bit louder. He heard this and couldn’t help the soft smile that spread across his face. He pulled you onto him and leaned against the arm of the sofa so you were on top of him. You looked at him, confused. You head was on his chest again and your eyes were fluttering shut again.

“You’re not going to lose me, Y/N.” He said with a smile. You smiled into his chest and wanted to say something but your mind was already powering down. You felt his lips press against your hair. “You won’t ever lose me. Good night, Y/N.” You murmured an incoherent goodnight, but he got the point and smiled before falling himself.

You woke up in the morning to smell the most wonderful smell you ever had smelt before… Bacon.

You groaned and sat up, a bit confused as to why you were smelling bacon. You thought it was just your mind at first and your mind wandered back to the dream you had had of James. You wished it were true. The kiss seemed so real, so perfect. You pushed yourself off the couch and your foot hit a box. Your eyes widened immediately. You opened it and saw a group of empty chocolate wrappers.

Oh no…

You turned around quickly and saw James’ back in your kitchen over the stove. Then you heard the sizzle of food cooking on your unused stove, since you were a wreck in the kitchen. ANd then you heard James’ humming. That wasn;t an illusion.

“James?” He turned around and smiled.

“About time you woke up. I thought you were dead for a little while there.” You pushed yourself off the couch and stumbled into the kitchen. “Coffee in the cup.” You looked down to a steaming cup.

“I’m not so convinced yet.” He chuckled and slid the food onto two separate plates handing one to you. “I didn’t even know that worked.” You muttered looking at the stove.

“Figured. You can’t cook to save your life.”

You threw a piece of bacon at him, which he gladly ate.

“Did you stay all night?” You asked half way through breakfast.

“I figured we should talk this morning.” You nodded and bit your lip. So it did happen.

“Right so we… kissed.”

“Yep.”

“Yeah.” The silence turned awkward.

“Ok, I’m just going to say it, then. I don’t know how much you remember but everything I said, I meant. I really do like you, Y/N.” You bit your lip and smiled.

“I-I think I remember enough to know that I have told you the same. And I-I meant it to.”

“Really?”

“Really, James. I meant it all and I really do like you alot.” You smiled. And he let out a sigh and collapsed into his chair.

“That is a huge relief.”

“Tell me about it. So what do we do now? What happens?”

“I think I'll ask you out.”

“And I obviously would say yes.”

“And then we go to a… quidditch game?”

“And I’d buy the snacks after arguing with you about money.”

“Right. And then I would completely sweep you off your feet when I book the stadium for afterwards and teach you how to ride more.”

“Of course, unless I blow you away with my mad skills.” He beamed.

“Which is very possible with the way you ride.” You laughed.

“So when would this hypothetical date take place?”

“Saturday at six?”

“I think I could be there. If you were to ask me, of course.”

“Well maybe I’m getting there.”

“Maybe you should hurry up before we spend another three years without each other.”

“Y/N, would you go out with me?”

“Yes.” You said smiling. He returned your smile with a crooked one of his own.

“Then I’ll pick you up here, and I am buying the snacks.”

“James you are no-pop-James Potter you get back here!” You yelled to the open air laughing as your best friend-boyfriend- apperated from your apartment.

You bit your lip and leaned on your hand.

You got a date with the boy you loved. And who would’ve thought it would all be because of a terrible time dealing with cramps?

#james sirius potter #hp fluff #fluff fic #james potter x y/n #james potter x you #madame pomfrey #chocolate fic #one shot

[disasterfandoms]

You Shouldn’t Be Alone || A Seal Team Story

(this is a horrible gif as this has nothing to do with Ray)

Summary: Amelia has a no good, terrible, very bad day; with heartbreaking results.

A/N: My brain wouldn’t shut up last night so it finished this story part of the story. This is a three parter, and it’s part of the ao3 series myself amd @bravo-four-seal-team created. This is set early season 1, before Clay joins the team. It’s mostly Naima, Amelia, and Ashley this chapter, with Trent coming in later.

TW: injuries, hospitals, mention of death, mention of people coding, mentions of health spiraling, implication of miscarriage, mention of grief, mention of pain meds

Taglist: @twentydavid @bravo-four-seal-team @a-kate3 @rebelwrites @chibsytelford @supervalcsi @jayhalsteadfan-2417 @thegirlwhoisalwayswriting @mrsmarvelous1995​ @velvetcardiganbucky​ @itsonautopilot​ @pinkrockstar19​ @galaxysanduniversesinmymind​ @abby-splace​

Amelia was just so, so tired of today.

Everything that could go wrong, did. The morning started with a minor argument with Trent, nothing they couldn’t handle, but still annoying. Then, a rude stranger ran into her, causing their coffee to spill all over her scrubs, resulting in her having to change into surgery scrubs when she got to work. 

Work was an absolute nightmare: back-to-back-to-back codes, rapids, anything that could go wrong did go wrong. She had a patient die, got another, then they died. 

And now she’s a patient in the ER.

Every breath she took included a sharp pain from her broken ribs resisting. Her left arm is in a sling, broken collarbone, apparently; her body littered with massive bruising. Swollen lip, stitches on her right cheek. Massive black eyes, a broken nose that was corrected a few minutes ago. Grade I concussion, so while the best-case scenario, still annoying. Her throat was sore from the hands trying to end her; that’s going to bruise badly later, she noted. The bruises, scratches on her arms will heal; they might be the least irritating injuries she sustained today. Her sore back and bruised pelvis from being slammed against the wall may be the most annoying. Her legs are in surprisingly good shape, a dislocated knee being the only injury that’s worth noting. Nothing came as close as devastating as to why she was bleeding, though. 

She shook her head, wincing as she did. She won’t go there; no one is to know about that one except for her, her medical team, and Trent. Fuck, Trent. He’s going to be devastated, or relieved; she honestly still can’t tell how he felt.

 That injury in itself would garner a lot of pity. She despises pity. Everyone around her was trying to do it, though, from her nurse, Naima, to her coworkers who keep coming down to check on her. She appreciates the concern, she does, but she’s okay; it could have been a lot worse. 

 Needs a new chain for her locket, once again, stupidly annoying. It’s her comfort blanket; it lets her have what’s special to her near her heart at all times. Again, nothing that can’t be fixed, but also stupidly annoying.

Naima threw the curtain back, came into her space, and then closed them to give the two nurses some privacy. 

“Dr. Mann would rather you stay overnight to make sure you’re stable, and that way Dr, Leigh can do the procedure in the morning.” 

Amelia shook her head, then winced again. She really, really needs to stop doing that! “No way in hell, Naima. I’m fine; I just got a little banged up! And I’ll come back in the morning for the procedure.”

Naima sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. God, her friend was stubborn. “Who’ll drive you? That sling stops you from even considering driving yourself.”

“So, you mean to tell me that I can’t drive home?”

 “Amelia Rose Carter! You know better than that. I’ll try to convince Mann to let you go, see if we can arrange a follow-up visit or something in the morning. I’ll call your emergency contact on file, see if they can come to pick you up.”

“No!” Amelia attempted to scream, but her voice still sounds strangled and barely came out above a whisper, “Please don’t call him. He doesn’t need to know, not yet.” Amelia, begging? This is something Naima hasn’t seen from the young nurse. She could swear she saw tears starting to form in the young woman’s eyes, whether from pain or the thoughts racing in her head.

Naima crossed her arms, walking over to lean on the stretcher beside Amelia. “Amelia, is your emergency contact someone you’re afraid of?”

Amelia would have smiled, laughed at the thought, even, had her lip not be swollen, and her throat didn’t feel like fire. “No, Naima. If you looked in my file, you’d see why. He’s just very protective of me, and while I love him more than I thought I could love anyone, his care will feel like suffocation. And now I sadly know what that feels like,” she paused and listened to Naima chuckle. The older nurse then apologized, but Amelia made a motion to stop that; she’s glad someone could laugh at her dark humor. “He’s going to be so pissed about in the morning, though. We were so close to telling everyone that we were-” she stopped, tears welling up in her blackened eyes again, but Naima got the point. She grabbed the battered woman’s uninjured hand and squeezed it in reassurance.

“Okay. So if not him, then who do you want to be called? I know you mentioned a brother?”

“Scott, yeah. He’s out in the field, I think. You wouldn’t want him here. He’d take one look at me and then want the name of the patient who did this and probably threatens to kill them.”

“Okay, so boyfriend and brother are off the list. Anyone else you can think of?”

“Boyfriend’s sister? I don’t know her that well, except for the times I helped take care of her last fall. She’d be able to drive me home, though, at the very least.”

“What’s her name, and do you have her number?”

“Ashley Sawyer, and her number is in my phone,” Amelia pulls up the number and continues to speak while Naima copies it down, “Be warned, she told me she doesn’t like hospitals. You may have to break HIPAA and mention my name for her to answer the second time.”

“Second time?”

“She’ll hang up once you get out that you’re a nurse at St. Samuel’s.” This made both women chuckle. 

“Okay, I’ll go try her cell, just rest for a while, okay? Need some more pain meds before I leave?”

“You know I hate pain medicine, especially morphine. Makes my head fuzzy,” Amelia declined, she definitely didn’t need that if she had to go home to her apartment.

“Okay. I’m gonna go call her, okay?”

“Good luck.”

Little did Naima know, she was going to need it. 

Getting back to the nurses’ station, she talked to the doctor, who agreed to discharge the stubborn nurse as long as Amelia came back to the ER if she was having any complications. While the Dr. worked on getting the discharge ready, Naima called the number she received and waited for a voice on the other end.

“What do you want?” The voice said snappily, clearly irritated by someone calling her.

“Ashley, this is Naima, I am a nurse at St. Samuel’s Ho-“

Click. 

Naima sighed, preparing to call the number again. Amelia at least warned her of this happening. She picked up the phone, dialed the number, and waited for a response. This time, the number went straight to voicemail. “Ms. Sawyer, this is Naima, a nurse at St. Samuel’s Hospital. A significant other of a family member has asked that we call you to come to pick them up when they’re discharged. Please call back at this number, thank you.”

She hung up the phone and hoped that Ashley would hear the message before too long. 

Within half an hour, the same phone rang again, Naima picked up the phone and answered, “St. Samuel’s ER this Naima speaking, how can I help you?”

“You called this number a half-hour ago?” “Is this Ms. Sawyer?” “Who else would it be?” “Ms. Sawyer, this is a hospital and this isn’t my personal phone here. I’m asking for clarification, as there are about 10 phone calls per hour on this phone alone.” “You called me for a reason, snap to it.” “Yes, your brother’s girlfriend, Amelia, has asked me to call on her behalf for you to come to pick her up upon discharge,” “Shit. Is she okay, and why me?” “She’s been injured fairly well, with several bruises, several broken bones, and a dislocated knee. The doctor asked she stay for tonight, but Ms. Carter is refusing. She requested you, claiming your brother would be ‘too suffocating’”

Naima heard the woman laugh on the other end of the phone. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be laughing since it’s clear she’s banged up pretty well. Not wrong about Trent, though.”

Wait. No, that can’t be. Well, shit. Naima pieces together what she knows about her friend’s boyfriend. Oh, she’s so telling her husband about this.

“If you agree to pick her up and take her home, you can come at any time and I’ll come out to the waiting room and bring you back. I must warn you, though, she looks rough and shouldn’t be left alone tonight. She’ll probably ask you to take her apartment to leave her be. Don’t.”

“Shit, is it that bad?” “It’s not great. The concussion she sustained would be the main worry. That and god forbid she fell and no one was there to help her. She’ll need someone to bring her back in the morning, as well, and she’s incredibly stubborn about being able to drive herself,” “She got injured, and you all are going to make her come back to work the next day?” “What? No, ma’am, she has a procedure unrelated to her injury in the morning, and claims she’ll come in and do it outpatient instead of staying,” “She’s as stubborn as the rest of us, damn,” she paused, sighing into the phone, “I’ll be there in 30 minutes.”

“Okay. Let the front desk know to alert me when you’ve arrived and I’ll bring you to her. Thank you, Ms. Sawyer.”

Click. 

Sighing, Naima went back to filling out the paperwork, figuring out how or when she’ll confront her friend about dating someone on her husband’s team. For now, she’ll finish the paperwork on another patient, waiting for Trent’s sister to arrive.

#naima perry #oc: amelia carter #oc: ashley sawyer #ao3 series #trent sawyer mentioned #full metal mentioned #seal team fic #will go to ao3 later

[i-stan-nct-and-satan]

Not Broken Part 12 (Jaehyun Mafia AU)

Not Broken Masterlist

Jaehyun X Reader

Trigger warning: mentions of abuse

I stayed in my room for several hours, just staring at the minimalistic digital clock Taeyong had set onto the vanity. It was 2:58, past the time Taeyong said lunch would be delivered to my room. In any other circumstance, I would have just gone to the kitchen and made something myself, but I really didn’t want to run into anybody from 127, especially not the pink-haired mobster himself. I hadn’t eaten at all that day, nor had I had anything to drink other than the tap from the bathroom. There were no cups to be found so I scooped the water into my mouth with my hands.  

I wondered if they had forgotten about me or if there was a delay. Either way, the hunger was becoming too uncomfortable to ignore.  

I glanced at the door, wondering who on earth could be on the other side. I was almost too afraid to find out. On one hand, it was very possible that they would turn out to be a staff member rather than an actual member of Nct given that Taeyong explained that they had a few staff members on hand that doubled as bodyguards. I couldn’t imagine that Nct 127 would waste any of their members’ time just to stand guard at my door, yet on the other hand, I couldn’t get rid of the sinking feeling that if I chose to find out I’d be confronted with someone like Doyoung whom I’m sure wouldn’t be so pleased with having to escort me around.  

I decided to come up with an excuse to open the door, that way if it turned out to be someone I didn’t feel comfortable with, I could just ask them to clarify a rule for me or something. I supposed I could also tell them that I was hungry, but I didn’t think that Doyoung would want to be sent on an errand either.  

After I made the decision to open the door, I suddenly became excited at the prospect of being able to leave the room I had just spent three hours in unable to do anything but stare at my bruises in the bathroom mirror, take nearly an hour-long shower, and look through the clothes in the closet. There definitely wasn’t anything I felt comfortable wearing in there and although I knew I shouldn’t feel any guilt asking for clothing more suited to my style, I didn’t have the guts the make the request.  

I took a few deep breaths to calm my nerves before I knocked on the door.  

Nothing.  

Was there no one on the other side?

Knock knock.

I instantly became confused by the sudden knocking that came from the other side of the door. I knocked again only for them to knock again.  

Wanting to know what was going on, I opened the door to see the blonde-haired boy I’ve come to know as Mark, fist still raised in the air.  

“What are you doing?” I asked him, too puzzled by his actions to feel any relief that it was him and not Doyoung.  

“Knocking,” He answered, matter of factly.

“Why?” I asked.

“Shouldn’t I be the one asking that? It makes a lot more sense for someone outside of the room to knock on the door than someone inside of the room.”

“What? I mean, you’re not wrong but I just...”

Mark began to laugh softly at my perplexed state. Despite feeling even more confused by his reaction, I did feel less nervous than before.  

“I’m just messing with you,” He revealed with a warm smile.

“What do you need?”

“Oh, um... I was just wondering if I could have something to eat.”

“Sure, no problem, let me just call the cook and have him bring something up,” He agreed, taking out his phone.

“W-wait.”

Mark paused.

“I was hoping I’d be able to leave my room at some point since there isn’t much to do.”

Mark stared at me as he processed my words and I worried that he would deny my request.

“Oh, I get it. Okay, sure,” He agreed.

“Yeah, I forgot that they didn’t really give you anything to do.”

“Yeah...” I confirmed, not wanting to sound like I was complaining.  

“Well, did you want to go now?”

“Yes, if that is okay.”

Instead of responding, Mark just started laughing. I couldn’t understand why because I hadn’t said anything particularly funny, so I just started awkwardly laughing with him.  

“Yeah, no problem. Let’s go.”  

We walked down a long hallway, and down a long flight of stairs that looked like something the Queen of England would step down to treat her guests.  

When we finally got to the kitchen, there were already several people inside, none of which I had ever seen before.  

“Come on, Chenle. You need to eat.”

A man with blonde hair and a faded blue fringe whose out-of-the-blue hairstyle made it look like he had literally ran out of blue hair dye and made Doyoung’s blue highlights look normal in comparison, was sitting at small kitchen table with two boys who looked to be in their mid-teens. In another part of the kitchen was an athletic looking man who seemed too busy cooking to notice that we had come in. He had light sandy brown hair that looked like it had been shadow permed and was wearing a short-sleeved shirt under a salmon colored apron. He was peeling potatoes and I couldn’t help but stare at his developed arm muscles that were more defined than any of the 127 members I had seen thus far, with the exception of Jaehyun, himself. The apron did nothing to take away from his masculine features and anyone who thought it did would have to be extremely antagonistic towards the color salmon.

The older male at the table looked up at us. Apparently, my fascination with the other gentleman must have been obvious since my attention was immediately brought back to him as he cleared his throat.  

“You must be Y/N,” He commented, getting up from the table.  

“Hello,” I greeted.

“Ah, uh, yes. Hello. My name is Jaemin. I’m the nanny,” He wavered in his response.

The man offered his hand and I shook it.

“And these are Chenle and Jisung,” He gestured to the two boys still sitting at the table.

I glanced at them, not fully understanding who they were. One of them, I didn’t know which was which, had blonde hair that had a bit more yellow in it than most people would have preferred. It was strange but he almost looked scared of me. His features made it seem as though he were experiencing great discomfort. He avoided my gaze choosing instead to stare at the full plate of food that sat in front of him.  

The other boy, whose plate was almost empty, had dark brown hair and an extremely small face. His expression reminded me of those mean girls in the movies when they were weirded out by someone less popular than them. He didn’t look mean though, just confused as to why I was there. The two of them didn’t resemble each other in the slightest so I assumed that they were unrelated.

“What happened to your face?” The second boy blurted out.

“Jisung!” Jaemin snapped before turning back to me.  

“I’m so sorry about that,” He apologized.  

“It’s alright, but who are they?” I whispered the last part.  

“Oh, those are Jaehyun’s younger brothers,” Mark answered for him.  

“Brothers?”  

Guess I was wrong about them not being related.

“Yes, and don’t worry. They’ve been caught up on everything, including your lack of involvement in the... issue at hand.”

I hadn’t even thought of the possibility that they had even known about my existence let alone about the suspicion that I was involved in their sister’s death.  

They really know everything that’s going on? At such a young age? No, it made sense. In this type of family, I’m sure that they are fully aware of their brother’s business and probably have been for quite some time. Maybe they’re even being trained to eventually become members.

“Have you put anything on... to... umm... treat that?” Jaemin asked as I continued to stare off into space.

“Oh, umm, no.”

“Hang on a second. I might have some vitamin K cream somewhere. Would you all keep an eye on the boys for a quick second?”

“Ah, I, umm,” I hesitated.

“I’ll handle it, Jaemin.”

I turned around to see the aproned man who had been busy cooking up to this point smile over at us.

“Awesome! Be right back,” Jaemin confirmed before hurrying out of the kitchen.  

The man who had volunteered to watch the boys rinsed his hands and dried them on a spare cloth before making his way over.  

“Hi, what can I do for you?” He asked in a pleasant tone.

“Hey Jeno, this is Y/N. We came to get her something to eat,” Mark took the lead in answering for you.

“Ah, yes. Miss Y/N. I was informed of your new status as a guest here just recently. I apologize for the delay. You can sit down at the table with Jisung and Chenle while I finish preparing your lunch.”

“Oh, so you’re the chef?” I asked, wanting to know more about the strangely attractive man, totally oblivious to my appearance.

“Hm? Oh, kind of. I’m actually-”

“The butler,” Mark interrupted.  

I turned to Mark and gave him an expression I can only describe as “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Well yes, butler, director of the household. It’s all the same. Stand-in-chef while the other staff is away. I pretty much do whatever is required of me in order to keep the house from burning down.”

“Oh wow. That’s impressive, especially with a house as big as this,” I beamed. 

I was surprised since someone of his stature seemed as though they would fit in perfectly as a gang member, but his kind eyes gave away his lack of involvement with the group’s more criminal activities.

“Not really, I have lots of great staff to help me. Anyways, have a seat and I’ll bring a plate over once everything’s prepared.”

Mark and I sat down at the table and it was... awkward.

Jisung and Chenle just stared at me as if I had three eyes... or maybe just two black ones.

“Did someone from 127 really do that to you?” Chenle asked looking noticeably sick.

Someone?  

What I wanted to say was that their brother did this to me, but I couldn’t bring myself to tell two teenaged boys how much of a monster their brother really was. Even if he deserved it, they didn’t.

“Uh, umm...”

“I’m back!”  

Jaemin’s timing couldn’t have been any more perfect.

“Did you miss me?” Jaemin cooed at the two boys, making an effort to pinch Jisung’s cheeks.

“Nana, stop!” He whined.

Jaemin frowned.  

“This is why they said there’s no use in raising kids.”

His attention turned to me.  

“Let’s get you taken care of, shall we?”  

Jaemin asked me to sit on the counter in the kitchen so that we could “talk” without having to worry about the kids and asked Mark to watch them in the dining room. Apparently Jeno and Jaemin were also included in the list of staff who could watch over me.

“So how are things going for you?” He asked.

Jaemin’s face seemed to hold genuine concern so I had no reason to give him a snarky answer, but I wasn’t certain whether I could be honest with the two of them or not. They might not have been members of NCT, but they still worked for them.

“Everything is just so hard,” I broke down.  

“Oh, honey,” Jaemin cooed sympathetically.

Jaemin took me into his arms as I started to quietly weep.

Jeno who had been busy cutting vegetables pushed them aside and joined us, patting my back as Jaemin continued to hug me.  

After a few moments passed, I somehow managed to cease my crying.

Once Jaemin pulled away, Jeno gave me a cloth to wipe my tears. I winced when the fabric came in contact with my bruised eyes causing Jaemin and Jeno to give each other a concerned look.

“Let’s put some of this on,” Jaemin suggested.

“I just feel so angry at how little control I have here. I feel so weak and for some reason, I feel like I have no reason to complain either, like I somehow deserve this,” I ranted as Jaemin applied the vitamin k cream with a q-tip.

“You know you don’t though, right? I mean yeah, this whole this is fucked but you just have to get through it. Do whatever you need to do to survive, even if it means taking advantage of their accommodations.”

“What do you mean?”  

“They told you that you could make requests, didn’t they? If I were you, I would take them for all they’re worth. I’d ask for expensive jewelry, clothes. You know, the works,” Jaemin continued.

“I just feel like if I ask for anything then I’ll be proving that pink-haired jackass right.”

“Hm?” Jaemin quirked.

I sighed.  

“Jaehyun made me an offer and when I didn’t accept it, he told me that he didn’t expect a dancer like me to refuse that much money. Then he told me we could renegotiate later. He thought I was some floozy trying to get her next payday. I don’t even want the money. I refused because what he did can’t be fixed with money.”

“Wow,” The two men uttered in unison.

“What?”

“Y/ N, you’re kind of a badass,” Jeno complimented.

“What? No, that’s the thing. I couldn’t even stand up for myself and tell him that. This whole time, I’ve felt so powerless and weak and I just wish that I could fight back just one time and have an impact.”

We all went silent as Jaemin finished applying the cream to my bruises.

“How do you like the clothes the maids picked out? This dress is nice, right?”  

“Honestly? I hate them. Everything is too fancy. I don’t feel like it’s exactly normal to wear Swarovski crystals when living in your kidnapper’s estate, not that there’s exactly a dress code for that.”

“Okay, no Swarovski crystals. What else?”

“Huh? Oh no, I didn’t mean. I’m fine, really.”

“Y/N.”

Jaemin grabbed my face as gently as he could to avoid causing any further harm to my already bruised face.

“It’s the least I can do given your situation, especially when I can’t do much else for you.”

His face was suddenly filled with noticeable anguish. He was trying so hard to relieve my sorrow, it made me want to relieve some of his.

“Okay then, I guess I do have a request or two.”

“Thatta girl!” He beamed, not a trace of sadness left in his features.  

“What can I do for you?”

“Would it be possible to get my own clothes from my apartment?”

“I’m sure I could find some clothes to better suit your tastes.”

“No, they have to be mine. Is that okay?”

Jaemin spent a few seconds to ponder the request.

“I don’t see why we couldn’t ask, right Jeno?”

Jeno nodded.

“What else?”

“Could I start eating meals with you guys? I don’t want to spend all day trapped in that room and I could really use the companionship.”

Jeno and Jaemin smiled at each other and then back at me.  

“Of course. Mealtimes are about the only time I ever get a break in this house. That’s when Jisung and Chenle get handed over to Momo, the other nanny. The only reason we were all in here earlier is because Chenle hasn’t been eating lately. The poor child. He’s only been like this once before when his sister died. I’m sure having everything come back up has been hard on both him and Jisung.”

I didn’t know whether I should have pried or if it was better to just change the subject, but Jaemin and Jeno seemed to be trustworthy so I decided to pry.  

“Are they really his brothers?”

“Adopted brothers. The previous head of the household adopted all of his children,” Jaemin explained.

“Including-” I started.

“Yes, including him.”

“He couldn’t have children otherwise, so adoption was his only option,” Jeno added.

“Jaehyun and IU were blood related though. Sooman, the former head of NCT, had been searching for quite some time to find a son to eventually take his place as leader. He and his wife went to countless orphanages but apparently he was looking for something in particular which is why they never brought anyone home with them. He would ask each of the young boys a question, but none of their answers satisfied him.”

“What was the question?” I asked, enamored by the almost folksy tale.

“No one knows for sure, but I did hear from one of the older staff, who used to work as Sooman’s personal servant, that he’d ask them why they thought he should adopt them. Simple right?”

I nodded.

“Well supposedly, when he and his wife visited the orphanage the current young master was living at, one of the workers told Sooman that the boy hadn’t spoken a word to anybody other than his sister since they arrived. Instead of skipping the young boy, Sooman asked to speak with him anyway. He probably wasn’t expecting much of a response, yet he went through the motions anyway, telling him that he was a wealthy man who was capable of changing his life and things like that. When he asked the boy why he should adopt him. The young master actually responded.”

“What did he say? How did he convince him to adopt him?”

“That’s the thing. He didn’t. He told him that he shouldn’t adopt him, but that he should adopt his sister instead. Then, after having not spoken for such a long time, he went on to explain how much of a good person his sister was and how she would make a wonderful daughter. Sooman decided to adopt them both, that very day.”

I was speechless. That kind and caring young boy who was willing to give up on everything he could have wanted to help his sister seemed worlds apart from the horrible violent man I had the displeasure of meeting. The only similarities between them was how far they were willing to go for their sister.  

“I guess Sooman wanted a son who valued loyalty,” Jaemin finished.

“What about the other two?”

“Oh, Jisung and Chenle? Their biological fathers both worked for Sooman, but died when they were a lot younger, so he adopted them as a service to them.”

“Umm, Jaemin?”  

We all turned to look at the sudden voice.

Mark was covered in bits and pieces of food and a string of laughter escaped my lungs.  

“Oh my god. Boys!” Jaemin ran out of the kitchen and into the dining room.

“Well, that was eventful. Anyways, food’s ready,” Jeno chuckled.

Jaemin had to go take care of the boys but he promised that he would be there tomorrow for breakfast.  

Mark, Jeno and I sat down at the kitchen table. At first it felt a little awkward having Mark there since he was a member of 127, but I was relieved to see that he didn’t think so.  

He told us how excited he was for another one of 127’s members to return after having been undercover for the last few months. He didn’t give me any specific details about the mission itself, but he did say the member’s name a lot. Apparently since he was so deep undercover, he was rarely able to interact with any of the members without the risk of blowing his cover.  

Yuta came in at one point after hearing our laugher from a nearby room.  

“Y/N, you look as beautiful as ever.”

“I have two black eyes.”

“And I can honestly say that not every girl can pull it off as well as you do.”

We continued talking hours after I had already finished eating. It was weird but nice. I pondered Jaemin’s words about how I should do whatever it takes to survive. I guess it felt like isolating myself wasn’t really my best option and that maybe opening up a little bit would make this whole thing more tolerable.  

I went to bed that night, annoyed by the small red camera lights that flashed every so often. The next morning, I decided to just wear the green dress again since it was the only thing I really felt comfortable in, but instead of leggings, I put jeans on underneath. It looked kind of strange, but I didn’t care.  

Jaemin told me that he was going to ask Jaehyun about my clothes at some point today. Jeno, Jaemin, and I met for breakfast. Mark tagged along since he happened to be guarding my door again. He quickly discovered that we made a promise to start eating meals together, so he also came to lunch despite not being on guard duty.

“Everyone else just eats in their rooms. We never have mealtimes together. I wish we would though,” He explained.

Not just him, but Yuta started to eat with us too. When it was time for us to meet for lunch, Yuta happened to be the one guarding my door, so he when he escorted me down to the kitchen only to see that Jaemin, Jeno and Mark were waiting for me, he demanded he stay to keep an eye on me despite there being three other men there to watch me.

It was strange at first, but it was nice to freely speak with each other without worry. Yuta continued to hit on me only to get scolded by Jaemin. Mark would laugh and Yuta would punch him in the arm, all while Jeno quietly smiled as though it were the most normal thing in the world for two mafia members, two staff members hired by said mafia members, and a former hostage kidnapped, also by said mafia members, to sit around a kitchen table laughing and having a ball.  

I noticed how whenever he smiled, his eyes would form crescent moon slits, that made it hard to believe that he could see anything beyond them.  

Nothing about the situation was normal, but I found myself feeling almost grateful for the scene unraveling in front of me. If this was going to be my new normal for the time being, maybe it wouldn’t be that bad.

<><><><><><><>

“The Itaewon lead was a bust. They found no trace of Wayv at any of their usual hangouts. Should I instruct S. Coups to have his men start canvasing the surrounding areas?” Taeyong updated his boss as they wandered the estate.  

“No need. Have them return to Neozone to await further instructions. Wayv’s aware we’re looking for them, so they know to cover their tracks.”

Jaehyun was visibly frustrated at the lack of breakthroughs in the search for Wayv. His face was noticeably thinner than it was just a few days ago.  

“We’ll just have to wait until they come for the girl.”

“Jae?” Taeyong quirked.

“Yes? What is it?”

“What’s that noise?”

The two men halted their conversation to focus on the sounds of laughter coming from the kitchen.  

“Should we go see what they’re doing? Taking your mind off everything for a bit might make you feel better,” Taeyong suggested.

“It’s probably just Jaemin and Jeno flirting with each other. I can’t for the life of me understand how they still insist on keeping their relationship a secret from me. I’ve never once said anything to give them the impression that I’d hold any disdain for their choices as long as they continued to fulfill their duties and besides, only an idiot would think those two were straight.”

Jaehyun noticed the disappointed look on his friend/colleague’s usually impassive face.

Jaehyun relaxed slightly, becoming conscious of how much stress the two have them had been under, discussing further plans of action while holed up in his office since the break of dawn.

“Perhaps I should go in to check with in Jeno, see if there are any issues with... well, anything there might be issues with,” He suggested, abandoning his strict facade.

Taeyong’s face lit up. His excitement was most evident in his already anime-like eyes which now looked to have doubled in size.

<><><><><>

My eyes continued to linger on the sandy brown-haired man who sat almost directly across from me. I knew that it was crazy to crush on someone who worked for the leader of NCT even if he wasn’t a member of the gang itself, but it had been a crazy past few days and who could blame me for being drawn to such a gentle yet strong and protective looking hottie?

“Y/N?” He asked.

Watching the pair of lips, I had been hungerly gawking at, suddenly mouth the syllables of my name immediately allowed me to snap out of whatever entranced state I had been in for the last several moments and enter into one filled with embarrassment. My eyes quickly retreated down to look at my half empty plate, hoping he hadn’t noticed my staring.

“Yes?”

“You have a piece of rice stuck to your face,” Jeno said matter-of-factly.

My cheeks started to burn from the awkwardness. I moved my hand to brush the food from my face only for Yuta to beat me to it.

I jolted away, withdrawing from the man’s touch. Ready to berate him for the abrupt intrusion, I turned in time to see Yuta bring the speck of rice to his lips with a mischievous grin. I scoffed, unamused by his playful antics, as he merely continued to smirk. I glared at him briefly while taking notice of his purple locks.  

His hair was always a dark purple similar to that of a plum, but under the bright kitchen lights it took on an especially violaceous hue. The intensity of the color and how it was almost hypnotic in a way led me to wonder if the devil might more accurately be depicted wearing violet than he would in his usual scarlet tones.  

Yuta’s sly smile grew into a Chesire grin as he saw my anger morph into mesmerism. My gaze retreated from his and my cheeks were noticeably redder than before.

“Dude, that was gross,” Mark commented, bringing my attention back to the three other men at the table.  

Yuta started laughing and I glanced at Jaemin and Jeno who glanced at each other and then back at me like two schoolgirls ready to hear all the hot gossip after seeing the school’s bad boy flirting with their friend.

Great, now they think something’s going on with Mr. Hits-on-anything-with-a-pulse over here.  

I did everything to stop from groaning, but it must not have been enough to hide my annoyance as for the first time, everyone at the table was laughing except for Mark who had a perplexed look on his face.

“Oh, how nice!”

We all turned in our chairs to find the source of the sudden voice.  

By now, I was easily able to recognize that the voice as belonged to Taeyong so when tufts of scarlet hair entered my vision, I thought nothing of it, but then a second man with oddly colored hair followed soon after. My lungs were empty of air, yet I couldn’t find the courage to breathe.  

He was dressed in the most casual outfit I had seen him in. A black shirt tucked into black jeans held up by a black belt with a silver colored buckle. A clashing gold colored watch with red and green detailing drew attention to his right wrist and consequentially, the veins that traveled up his forearms. His hair lacked any product as far as I could tell, and his bangs swept past his browbone and into his eyes. I noticed that the man’s rose gold locks were slightly translucent, probably from the bleaching process, and must not have done much to impair his ability to see past them.  

Unable to turn away, I silently prayed that he would overlook my presence, but that hope revealed itself to be a pipedream as our eyes immediately made contact with each other.

“What’s going on here?” Jaehyun demanded.

“They’re all eating together! How fun!” Taeyong observed, seemingly unaware of his boss’s hostile tone.

Taeyong wandered over to the table and took a seat in the last empty seat, leaving his boss to remain standing by the door.  

“You know, I always thought that we should start eating meals together, but it didn’t seem like the other members were up for it.”

Jaehyun stomped towards us, irritation written across his face. My instincts were telling me to flee, to run out of there and never look back, but instead my body braced itself, knowing that it didn’t have to courage to move even the slightest bit.  

“Jeno? Don’t you two have work to do?” He questioned the sandy-haired man.

Jeno and Jaemin looked at each other then back at their boss.

“Everything is running ahead of schedule, sir. I already have the ingredients prepared for tonight’s dinner.”  

Jaehyun paused, processing the response before turning to Jaemin.

“And what about you? Where are Chenle and Jisung?”

“Umm... sir? This is my scheduled lunch break. The boys are with Momo,” He responded with perturbed intonation.

Jaehyun brought his right hand to his face and pinched the upper bridge of his nose in frustration, sending a quick glance at Yuta and Mark.

“Don’t look at us, you only told us to be on standby in case we needed to have a meeting,” Yuta reminded in a disinterested tone.  

Before Jaehyun could chastise Yuta for such a cheeky response, Taeyong began to speak.

“Awesome. Since nobody is going to be busy for the time being, should we pull up another chair?” He asked staring up at Jaehyun’s intimidating figure.

I started begging the universe to save me from having to sit at the same table as the man who was possibly the only person I was more afraid of than Lucas.

“Actually, there was something I was hoping I could talk with you about, boss,” Jaemin announced, getting up from his chair.

“Shall we?” He asked.

Jaehyun looked down at the five of us who remained seated at the table before returning his gaze to Jaemin. Without saying anything, he merely made his way out the kitchen door, Jaemin waving goodbye as he followed.  

I took a deep breath and let it out, not intending for it to be as loud as it was. Everyone at the table looked at me with concern.  

“Y/N?” Taeyong quirked.

“I’d like to go back to my room please,” I mumbled, not wanting to hear whatever Taeyong had to say.  

Yuta volunteered to escort me back to my room. Not a word was exchanged between us on the way.

Once I was alone, I settled into my bed and began to softly sob into one of the pillows.

I was so scared of him that I couldn’t even move. I’m so sick and tired of being so weak and defenseless.  

I continued to cry until the tears began to sting my bruised eyes.

I can’t be afraid of him anymore. I need to get stronger. No matter what it takes, I need to survive.

<><><>

“Take a seat,” Jaehyun offered, already seated back at his desk.

“Oh, this won’t take long,” Jaemin replied, choosing to remain standing.

Jaehyun quirked an eyebrow at the staff member before leaning back in his chair.

“Very well. What is it you needed to discuss with me?”

Jaemin got straight to the point, not wasting any time to ease his boss into the issue at hand.

“Y/N doesn’t feel comfortable wearing any of the clothes that were picked out for her.”

The curiosity that had occupied Jaehyun’s features dissipated, replaced with the slightest hint of aggravation.  

“And so, the requests start to flood in,” Jaehyun muttered under his breath.

“I’m sorry, sir. What was that?” Jaemin asked, unsure if he was meant to hear his boss’s words.

“So, let me guess, the clothes aren’t good enough for her despite the fact that each article is probably worth more than what she’d make in a year?” Jaehyun sneered, not making any attempt to hide the disgust in his voice.

Jaemin furrowed his brows at the unexpected response.  

“No, sir. That’s the opposite of what I’m saying.”

Now it was Jaehyun’s turn to furrow his brows.

“Hm?”

“Y/N doesn’t feel comfortable wearing clothes of such a high quality, especially when they were paid for by her...” Jaemin paused, hoping that his boss would understand and that he wouldn’t have to finish the less than favorable account of why exactly Y/N didn’t want to wear the clothes Jaehyun had instructed to be prepared for her.  

Jaehyun glared at Jaemin, daring him to finish his sentence, not showing any hint of mercy towards the staff member.

“-captor,” The man finished, doing his best to maintain a professional demeanor while still presenting a strong front.

Jaehyun’s anger unexpectedly dispersed. He sat up in his chair, tapping the desk as he deliberated Jaemin’s words.  

“I’ll send a maid out on another run for her,” He decided.  

“Is that all?”

“Well, boss, that isn’t-” Jaemin began.

“Actually, why don’t you do it since you probably know more about her... tastes. I’ll have Jeno instruct Momo of your absence and let her know that she’ll have the boys for the time being.”  

Jaehyun’s voice was laced with an emotion Jaemin couldn’t quite make out. Was it bitterness or perhaps just irritation?  

“She doesn’t want new clothes, sir.”

Jaehyun’s dusted pink bangs, fell to the side of his forehead as his head tilted the slightest bit.

“Then why are you here taking up my time, Jaemin?”

“She wants the clothes to be removed from her closet and for someone to retrieve her own clothes from her apartment complex.”

“What?”

“Can that be done?” Jaemin pressed on.

“Hold on a minute. Why does she want her own clothes? We could have any article of clothing she wants prepared for her by the end of the day. Hell, we could create an exact replica of her closet if she wanted. Just have her tell us-”

“Excuse me for speaking so boldly and without tact, sir, but it seems as though Y/N doesn’t want any handouts you have to offer her,” Jaemin interjected.

A strange tension filled the air as Jaemin explained his understanding of the situation. Jaehyun seemed as though he were debating amongst himself as he processed this new and unanticipated information. His eyes stared past Jaemin instead of at him and all the younger man could do was wait for his boss’s reply.

Jaehyun took his office phone off its receiver and lifted it to his ear before pressing the 1 on the keypad. A moment passed before Jaehyun spoke up.

“B.I.? Yes, have S.Coups and his men stop by Y/N’s apartment in Hongdae before they return to NEOzone. I want all her things brought back with them. Someone will come by this evening to pick them up.”

After giving his instructions, Jaehyun hung up the phone and looked up at Jaemin.  

“Why don’t you take the rest of the afternoon off and head to NEOzone headquarters later tonight to grab her things?” He proposed, his face and voice having returned to their usual unreadable states.  

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

<><><>  

After Jaemin exited through his office door, Jaehyun was left to contemplate Jaemin’s words.  

Had he really misjudged Y/N this much? All this time, he assumed that if she wasn’t working with Wayv, that she’d probably cause problems for them by threatening to expose them unless she got whatever amount of money she needed to keep her mouth shut. Yet here she was, not only choosing to forgo making any requests for newer and better things but actively refusing them as well.  

It was enough to baffle Jaehyun to the point of complete frustration.  

What was it that she wanted? Was it possible she didn’t want anything except to go home? To be safe from Wayv’s grasp?

Jaehyun felt a strong urge to leave his office, the walls of which seemed to be closing in on him. He wondered if perhaps a walk would clear his head and allow him to organize his thoughts, but as he wandered through the halls, the weight of his actions finally hit him.

What have I done?  

Images of Y/N’s first night at the estate crept into the front of his mind, but before he could really weigh the impact of his actions, he remembered seeing his sister, naked and shoved into a box that was left on their doorstep.  

He shook the image from his mind and buried it along with any feelings of guilt that threatened to arise.

He couldn’t let his emotions get the best of him. After all, there was still a chance that Y/N was working with Wayv.

“Hey, boss.”

Too distracted by his thoughts, Jaehyun had unknowingly walked past the security room where Taeil had set up. Having been woken up from his thoughts, Jaehyun entered the room through the open doorway. Monitors showing live footage of Y/N’s room seemed to make up most of the room’s light with the exception of Taeil’s empty laptop screen. Taeil was holding a mug filled with either coffee or tea, Jaehyun didn’t bother to ask which.  

“What’s she doing?” He inquired, taken aback by the images displayed on the monitors.

“Working out, I assume,” Taeil answered not sounding so sure himself.  

“Why is she so... bad at it?”

They both watched in silence, suffering from secondhand embarrassment as footage of my first attempt at doing a push up since middle school gym played across multiple screens.

“Why is she- What is she-” Jaehyun couldn’t even figure out what to ask, giving up halfway through each unfinished inquiry.

“I don’t know but this has been going on for the last half hour. I was getting some work done since I didn’t really wanna watch her cry, but when she started doing jumping jacks all of a sudden, I couldn’t really look away,” Taeil reported, looking visibly uncomfortable.  

Jaehyun tore his eyes from the screen and returned his gaze to Taeil.

“Crying?”  

Taeil returned to his laptop, quickly reopening a dark colored window with past recordings of Y/N’s room. After muting the current footage, Taeil brought up footage timestamped 1:34, roughly ten minutes after Jaehyun left the kitchen with Jaemin.

Several cameras were installed to ensure there were no blind spots in the room, but the camera that produced this specific footage only provided coverage of the bed and some of the floor surrounding it. For the first few seconds, the room seemed to be empty of any life, until the sound of a door opening was projected from a nearby speaker and Y/N entered the screen’s image. She climbed onto the mattress, wrinkling the neatly made bedspread and sat there silently staring off God knows where. Jaehyun and Taeil watched as Y/N grabbed a pillow and held it tightly against her. She began to cry, occasionally reaching up to wipe away the tears that streamed down her bruised cheeks.  

Taeil paused the video roughly sixty seconds after the sobbing had started and turned to his boss.  

“This went on for like ten minutes, but then look at this,” He said, relaying the contents of the video.

Taeil pressed the fast forward key, stopping the video after a few seconds and then pressed the spacebar to resume.

The screen continued to show footage of Y/N crying, before she abruptly stopped altogether. She rubbed her blackened eyes visibly wincing from the contact. After several moments of just staring at nothing, she then preceded to get up from the bed and disappeared out of view. Taeil took a few seconds switching to another camera, this one showing a complete view of Y/N as she began to start doing jumping jack, like Taeil described earlier.  

Taeil paused the video.

“The next twenty minutes are just of her doing various exercises. She’s alright with cardio, but anytime she attempts any strength training, it ends up looking like, well... that,” He gestured towards the monitors that showed that the current Y/N was still struggling to lift herself back into the air after falling back down.

“She is persistent, I’ll give her that,” Jaehyun observed.

“Makes you wonder how we ever thought she was a part of Wayv,” Taeil laughed.

Jaehyun’s gaze shot back to Taeil.

He was right.

If Y/N was working with Wayv, she would have at least been trained in basic hand to hand combat, right? Yet here he was, watching her get visibly more and more frustrated with herself as she failed to do what even people who aren’t particularly athletic should be able to do.  

The possibility that she was faking it crossed his mind only for it to disappear without a trace when he watched Y/N fall onto her already bruised face, yelping in pain.  

“I think she’s trying to get stronger,” Taeil speculated.

Stronger?  

Jaehyun started to contemplate whatever possible motives Y/N could have for wanting to become stronger, when he felt a heaviness in his chest. A heaviness he hoped to ignore for just a little longer but couldn’t.  

“Hmm,” He hummed.

<><><>  

I woke up to the sound of knocking. A groan escaped my mouth as I turned to look at the clock. My eyes had still not adjusted to being open this early in the morning, so I struggled to make out the numbers that shined in blue light.

5:00.  

Five a.m.? Really?

It was still dark in my room as the sun had yet to rise. I rolled over in my bed and pulled the covers over my head, hoping the person knocking would get the hint and fuck off.  

They didn’t.

Eventually, the door opened, and I could hear footsteps approaching. Instead of feeling aggravated since my slumber was being cut short, I felt an unignorable sense of fear.  

Wayv.

I moved the covers just enough to look at the vanity table. There wasn’t much on it, but I could see the outline of a lamp.  

If I move fast enough, I could grab it and use it as a weap-

“Goodmorning Y/N!”

I screamed as the duvet was ripped from my body.

I stared up at the shadowy figure that stood at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, come on, I don’t look that bad in the mornings, do I?”

The lights turned on and suddenly I could see.

Jaemin continued to stare down at me in amusement as I alternated between looking at him, and Jeno who was standing by the light switch near the door.

“Guess who brought gifts!” Jaemin prompted, pulling a bag of clothes off the ground and spilling them onto the bed.  

“What?”  

“I brought you your clothes!” Jaemin replied as though it were the most normal thing in the world to wake someone up at five a.m. just to give them their clothes.

I looked down at the clothes on the bed and noticed a bag filled with clothes I didn’t recognize.  

I opened it and took out a bright orange hoodie, the tag still attached.  

“I told you I didn’t want any new clothes. Jaehyun will think-”

“Jaehyun doesn’t have to know. He gave me the afternoon off to pick up your stuff, but I noticed that you really didn’t have many clothes to begin with, so I thought I’d supplement your closet a bit. Don’t worry. These are gifts from me and Jeno, paid for with our money, not Jaehyun’s.”

“But-”

“No buts. It’s the least we could do and besides, it’s just a few hoodies. No big deal. Jeno and I wear this brand of hoodie all the time. They’re cheap, but comfier than anything you’ll find in any of the members’ closets.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Jaemin said with a smile.  

“But that wasn’t why I was saying but,” I began.

“Hm?” Jaemin hummed curiously.

“I really appreciate you bringing my clothes here, and the hoodies are lovely, but why did you have to wake me up at five a.m. to give them to me?”

Jaemin chuckled and looked to Jeno.  

“I’ll let him explain that and while you two are gone, I’ll get started on getting rid of the clothes in the closet and hanging these up instead.”

“While we’re gone?”  

I looked to Jeno for some help understanding what the other man was trying to say. Instead, Jeno walked over to us and smiled.

“Are you ready for your first day of training?

<><><><><>

After leaving me to get dressed in my workout clothes, a simple t shirt and yoga pants, plus a royal blue hoodie that I found in the bag along with the others, Jeno guided me out into the hall way, taking the time to answer my questions along the way.  

“What do you mean you’re gonna train me?”

“I’m in charge of training all the insider staff so that they can double as bodyguards if need be. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing.”

“I didn’t mean why you were going to train me, I meant why are you going to train me?”

Jeno hesitated before answering.

“Don’t you want to get stronger so you can feel safer?” He asked.  

“I mean yeah, but will it be okay?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I still have a cracked rib for starters and what if Jaehyun finds out?”

“I’ve trained people with worse injuries,” Jeno reassured.

“And you don’t need to worry about Jaehyun. He was the one who suggested it in the first place.”

“What? Why?”

I stopped in my tracks. Jeno stopped shortly after turning around to meet my gaze.

“Y/N, I know you’re probably more than a bit confused right now, but maybe don’t look a gift horse in the mouth? I mean, nothing good can come out of questioning Jaehyun’s motives. For now, just be happy that you’ll have something to focus on for the next few days.

Jeno resumed his steps and so did I. For some reason, Jeno’s words didn’t lend me any comfort.  

<><><><>

“Harder! Hit it harder!” Jeno yelled from behind the punching bag.  

It had been three days since Jeno started training me and somehow each day seemed to get harder and harder. My muscles were sore, and my bones felt like they would turn to dust. This was the routine, wake up at 5:00, warm up for thirty minutes, cardio for twenty, weight training also for twenty, and then the next two hours would be dedicated to basic self-defense and hand-to-hand combat. Despite my body feeling like it was one day away from falling apart completely, it looked better than it had in days. My bruises were almost completely healed, and my face had basically returned to normal. Breathing was still hard due to my slowly healing rib, but Jeno refused to let it hold me back as he constantly ordered me to hit harder, run faster, and lift heavier.  

The kind and gentle Jeno I knew was long gone by the time training began, replaced by a mountain of pent up rage and aggression. It was no wonder he was able to stay so unbothered despite working such a stressful job. As soon as he entered the gym, it was like he was releasing every ounce of anger he had built up over the course of his life, and damn there was a ton of it. If that wasn’t enough to get over my crush on him, learning that he and Jaemin were dating threw the whole thing away.  

I once asked Jaemin how he could stand to work out with Jeno when he was like this. His answer was surprising to say the least.

“I don’t know. I kind of like it. He just looks so sexy when he’s mad. Makes me think of all the dirty things I want him to do to me after we hit the showers.”

The rest of my days continued like normal. At mealtime, I would head to the kitchen and eat with everyone at the dining room table. We couldn’t sit at the kitchen table anymore since Taeyong, Taeil, and even Doyoung started to join us, but only because Yuta forced him to come along. The only members who didn’t join us were Johnny, Winwin and Jaehyun. I found myself wanting to ask what was going on with Winwin and Johnny since I hadn’t crossed paths with them since Jaehyun ordered them to stay glued to each other, but I couldn’t muster up the courage. I found myself missing Winwin. Even though he wasn’t the friendliest guy, there was something about him that felt comforting. For some reason I was beginning to find most of the members comforting to some extent even Doyoung’s threats seemed humorous when paired with Yuta’s sarcastic responses. I knew I should feel on guard with them, but after everything that had happened, it was nice to feel like I had friends.

Friends? Oh god. I better not be developing some weird form of Stockholme Syndrome.  

“Hey! Stay focused!” Jeno commanded as he pushed the punching bag into me, knocking me down on the floor.  

<><><><><>

Jaehyun chuckled softly as Y/N fell to the floor mat. He continued to watch through the two-way mirror as Jeno offered his hand to Y/N.  

On the first day of their training, Jaehyun felt a strange urge to go see how things were going so he decided to take a break from his work to check in on their progress. At first, he only stayed for a few minutes, but today, he found himself losing track of time.

“She’s lovely, isn’t she?” An unexpected voice entered the room.

Jaehyun’s subtle grin abandoned his face, replaced with an irritated scowl.

“I thought I told you I was too busy for any meetings today,” He mouthed, refusing to turn towards the new presence.

“Oh, I can see that, alright,” The voice taunted.

“How did you find me here?” Jaehyun coldly huffed.

“I just rang the bell and that younger member of yours let me in. Mark, was it? After that, I made my way to your office only to find that you weren’t there. Luckily, I ran into one of your staff members, one with a particularly strange hair style I might add, and he suggested I look for you here.”  

After a moment of silence passed and it was clear that Jaehyun wasn’t going to speak, the voice continued.  

“I’m curious as to why you’re allowing Jeno to train her in the first place,” The voice sighed as if it were suggesting something.  

Jaehyun could hear the smirk in the other man’s voice and it pissed him off to no end.  

“Having her know basic defense might serve useful if Wayv decided to break their way in here or if we decided to use her for bait or something,” He explained dismissively.

“Are you sure about that? Or are you perhaps feeling guil-”

Jaehyun finally looked at his unwanted guest.

“What do you want, Suho?”

Suho’s playful smirk morphed into a frown that almost perfectly matched that of the younger man.  

“We have things we need to discuss.”

<><><><><><><>

After training ended, I returned to my room to shower. Jeno decided to finish a little earlier today since he said that breaks were key to gaining progress. I don’t know how finishing thirty minutes early counts as a break in his mind especially with how long our sessions were to begin with, but I was thankful for the extra time I had to relax before heading down to lunch.  

Being able to wear my own clothes was something I was grateful for. It gave me a small amount of power knowing that I didn’t owe anybody anything. It also did a lot to make me feel more comfortable in such an uncomfortable setting. I chose to wear a simple pair of black skinny jeans, a white V-neck T-shirt that hugged at my curves, and my red converse.

I had lunch with everyone being their usual happy selves before returning to my room to rest. Mark was my escort to and from lunch, so once we got back, he and I played several rounds of cards before Yuta barged in.

“Ever heard of knocking?” I playfully teased.

Yuta winked at me.

“You know what they say, you can’t hide anything from your lover.”

Mark and I looked at each other before proceeding to make all sorts of fake vomiting noises.  

Yuta was unamused.

“Anyway, Mark, come on let’s go. Impromptu meeting in the billiards room,” He said suddenly in a rush.

“What about Y/N? Who’s gonna guard her?”  

“Nobody.”

Yuta turned to me.

“Congrats! The boss says you’re officially too old for a babysitter, now let’s go Mark,” Yuta announced before disappearing into the hallway.

Mark promised he’d be back soon to finish the game, but hours past and there was still no sign of them.  

When it was time for dinner, I decided to take advantage of my newfound freedom by making my way to the dining room unescorted. When I arrived, only Jeno and Jaemin were seated at the table. Dinner was mostly quiet. Jaemin explained that the meeting was probably still going on and that’s why we were the only three here. It made sense until Taeyong entered the dining room with a sullen look on his face.  

“Y/N? Are you finished eating?”

I nodded, unsure of what else I could say or ask.

“Jaehyun wants to see you in his office.”

Scared and not knowing what to expect, I asked Taeyong what was going on, but he refused to answer. I got up and followed him. Halfway to his office, we ran into Yuta. He smiled when he saw me and opened his mouth to speak. I was expecting him to say some cheesy pick up line, but what I didn’t expect was for him to just pause before looking down at the floor, moving to the side to let us by. I looked back at him as we walked past, utterly shocked that he had actually decided not to tease me for once. It made me uneasy.

When we got to Jaehyun’s office, Taeyong knocked on the door. Instead of a voice on the other side telling us to enter, the door opened and through it walked out two members of 127 whom I had not seen in a very long time.  

Johnny and Winwin.  

I smiled at them silently. Winwin said nothing and only stared at me. It wasn’t comforting in any sense, but it was better than the pat me on the shoulder Johnny gave me before whispering the words, “I’m sorry.” I watched the two of them disappear down the hallway before a voice I wish I could have forgotten called for us to enter.  

Taeyong led me to Jaehyun’s desk and pulled out the chair for me to sit in. Jaehyun kept his eyes glued to me, only looking away to dismiss Taeyong.  

Once we were alone, Jaehyun silently stared at me as though he were carefully deciding what to say next.

“Y/N.”

I did my best to meet his gaze, careful not to let him notice my uneven breaths which grew shakier the longer he delayed the next few words that would fall past his lips.

“It has been decided that you and I will get married this month.”

What?

#jaehyun #jaehyun au #nct jaehyun #jaehyun smut #jaehyun mafia #jaehyun mob boss #nct #nct 127 #wayv #nct smut #nct 127 smut #wayv smut #nct au #nct mafia au #mafia au #jaehyun mafia au #nct 127 au #nct 127 mafia #nct mafia #nct 127 mafia au #nct 127 jaehyun #wayv au #wayv mafia #wayv mafia au #nct dream #nct dream smut #nct dream mafia #nct dream mafia au #nct dream au #smut

[flowerslut]

Waiting Game

  Words: 2657 Rated: T+ for canon-compliant mentions of suicide Summary: The story fell out in pieces, leaving Jasper and Emmett to sort through them to form the narrative on their own. Bella wasn’t dead; a fact Alice neglected to let anyone else in on. Alice was flying somewhere; it was unlikely that it would be back there, to Denali. Edward wasn’t coming home; it was assumed that Alice was heading wherever he was. Bella wasn’t dead, and Edward didn’t know it.

(New Moon gap-filler.)

A/N: Originally written for a Twilight charity fan-zine.

I humbly ask that if you read this story, please take a minute out of your day to go to MTHG.org and read about the Quileute tribe's Move to Higher Ground initiative. As a fandom it's important to acknowledge the true harm that has been inflicted upon this indigenous community and to educate ourselves accordingly. If you're able to, please consider donating to their cause. If you’re unable to make a monetary contribution, please share their cause in any way that you can; whether it's on social media, texting it to your friends, or bringing it up to family members. It's important to bring awareness to their situation now, before tragedy strikes and a natural disaster causes harm to this small, vulnerable community.

Today's story is part of a two-part fundraising initiative I've taken to Tumblr. Tomorrow I'll be posting an original song that will be available for download upon proof of donation to the Quileute tribe (any amount counts; even $1 is a great help.) 

I’d also like to take this moment to request and encourage any Twilight content creators out there to take a moment this week/month/year to post one work dedicated to raising awareness and funds for the Quileute tribe. It was a beautiful thing to see everyone banding together last summer with the release of Midnight Sun, donating en masse, raising awareness, and encouraging education. I’d like to keep that momentum going through 2021, as well. 💗

(Story under cut)

“I just feel bad, you know?” A foot against the base of a tree only had to press slightly before the thick wood groaned and cracked, threatening to fall to the forest floor below. The snow was deep enough that Jasper imagined it would cause a mighty flurry to erupt around them, but he wasn’t about to stop Emmett from doing whatever he needed to distract himself. Grief rolled of him like a steady stream, relentless in it’s flow. “Like if we’d stayed, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“But we didn’t stay, and it did happen,” Jasper spoke gently, pushing back the guilt he’d only recently allowed himself to move on from. Alice had reasoned that it was likely that any type of incident that threatened Bella’s life, whether vampire-related or not, may have driven Edward away from her eventually. But Jasper knew that Alice had held onto hope even all these months later.

It really was a shame that Bella had died.

“It’s ridiculous,” Emmett finally pushed harder against the tree, and when it cracked and snapped beneath the force, catapulting snow into the air around them as the hundred-foot giant fell, neither man flinched. “It didn’t have to be like this. It wasn’t just his choice. She could’ve been one of us by now. It’s what she wanted.”

Emmett’s grief was a passing storm, Jasper knew.  Emmett always handled change and tragedy and disappointment far better than any member of their odd little family. No matter how much the taller man cared for the now-dead human girl, Jasper knew that it wouldn’t take long for Emmett to move on.

As for their brother…

Jasper was dreading having to fill Carlisle and Esme in on the news. It didn’t feel right to deliver the news over the phone, so after a few vague voicemails and an even more ambiguous phone call, the pair were ending their hunting trip early and would be back at Tanya’s before midnight.

Not for the first time over the past couple of days, he wished Alice were still there. Empath that he was he had never been good at comfort, outside of using his ability to force it into the atmosphere. But still, Alice had tasked him with it regardless, informing him that Esme would take it hardest and it would be best to have them both back at the house before revealing the news.

And Edward, Alice said, absolutely could not know.

Rosalie had shocked Jasper by raging at that particular detail, her frustration trumping her initial shock and guilt so thoroughly Jasper had done a double-take, staring at the blonde curiously.

“He deserves to know,” Rosalie asserted, folding her arms over her chest as she eyed her shell-shocked husband, sitting at a nearby couch, his head in his hands. “It’s not fair for us to keep something like this from him.”

“I’m just relaying what Alice said,” Jasper deflected her irritation with half of a shrug, Tanya’s phone feeling particularly heavy in his hands. “It’s not like it would be easy information to get to him.”

Now, almost two days later, the knowledge that Bella Swan was dead sat in him like lead; heavy and unrelenting. Tanya and her sisters had expressed their sympathies, although Jasper could sense how bizarre they felt, watching Emmett frown and mope over some human girl. Carmen and Eleazar had volunteered to help them track down Edward, but Jasper quickly dismissed the offer, telling them what Alice had spoken.

Edward could not know. Not yet, at least.

“When Alice comes back, we’ll regroup,” Jasper spoke, watching as Emmett eyed an even-larger tree, likely considering knocking another one to the ground. “But when Carlisle and Esme come back, I’m going to need some back up.”

Emmett smiled thinly, nodding as he pulled his eyes off the tree and back toward Jasper. “Esme is going to be so wrecked.”

Jasper did not nod, but he did grimace at the idea of the matriarch of their family so distraught. It hadn’t mattered that the woman had only known Bella for a small amount of time. Esme had cherished and loved Bella the same as she did any of them.

It was as he was gathering the breath to speak, when Jasper stopped, his head turning back toward the direction of Tanya’s home in the distance.

Rosalie’s voice reached them only a millisecond before he’d felt it; sharp, piercing terror and guilt shooting through the somber atmosphere. Jasper was moving just as they heard the first shout.

“Emmett!” Rosalie screamed, “Emmett help!”

In all the races Jasper had entertained over the years, Emmett had never once beaten him, no matter how many times the taller man played dirty. But in all the years Jasper had been with the Cullens, through all her dramatic fits and tantrums, he had never once heard Rosalie sound so terrified.

So when Emmett beat him back to the property, snow flying around the men as they raced back toward the house, Jasper didn’t even find himself shocked. If someone could bend space and time through sheer strength alone, Jasper was sure Emmett would find a way. Anything to get to his wife.

They met a hysterical Rosalie half a mile from the house, and at first, little made sense.

“Rosie, Rosie,” Emmett held her tightly as words tumbled out of her too quickly and too disjointedly to make any sense.  “Slow down, what’s going on?”

“I told him,” she screeched eventually, her words catching as the guilt and fear wrestled within her, “I messed up and I told him because he deserved to know and I—” when her words caught on a fully-formed sob, Jasper forced himself to look away. And as his eyes found Tanya and her sisters, appearing at the edge of the forest, worry coloring their faces, Rosalie finally let the rest of her words tumble out. “I miss my brother.”

And in that moment, Jasper knew what had happened.

Rosalie had told Edward Bella was dead.

Alice had strictly emphasized how that couldn’t happen. But now the boy knew. And Jasper didn’t have to be a mind-reader to guess how the impulsive teen was going to react.

“Oh, no,” Emmett whispered, clinging to his distraught wife. Jasper made eye contact with him and immediately knew that their minds were on the same page.

Now, Edward wouldn’t be coming back.

————————————

The story fell out in pieces, leaving Jasper and Emmett to sort through them to form the narrative on their own.

Bella wasn’t dead; a fact Alice neglected to let anyone else in on.

Alice was flying somewhere; it was unlikely that it would be back there, to Denali.

Edward wasn’t coming home; it was assumed that Alice was heading wherever he was.

Bella wasn’t dead, and Edward didn’t know it.

Thankfully it didn’t take long for Rosalie to calm. But while Emmett comforted her and soothed her guilt—guilt that Jasper could feel eating away at her stubborn facade—Jasper quickly and quietly explained to Tanya the situation. 

“What can we do?” The strawberry blonde asked, sharing a horrified look with her sisters. 

“I don’t know. I need to talk to Alice.”

And by the time they all made it back into the house, Esme and Carlisle had made it back from their trip.

One look at Rosalie, completely beside herself and shaking like a leaf, had forced the pair into action.

“What’s going on?” Carlisle demanded as Esme flew to Rosalie’s side, enveloping the girl in a tight embrace, her eyes as wide as saucers. “What happened?”

There had been plenty of things that Jasper never wanted Carlisle Cullen to find out. When he and Alice had first joined back in the fifties, that list had felt a mile long. Each fact about his past felt like a confession. Each story a token to pay for judgement never received.

Jasper watched Carlisle take so much in stride through the years that eventually, even after slip-ups, Jasper found himself comfortable enough to talk about it with the older man. To look him in the eye when the conversations transpired. He respected Carlisle, even cared for the man.

But how on Earth was he supposed to tell him that the boy he thought of as a beloved son might never be returning?

The hour that followed had been excruciating. 

Emmett and Rosalie had disappeared soon after Carlisle and Esme’s arrival. It was only after Jasper asked when Irina hesitantly told him that they’d borrowed a car to drive to the closest airport in Fairbanks. From there, their plan was to call Alice and demand to know her location so they could help.

Not one to judge a plan made with good intentions Jasper had simply nodded and tried to tune out Esme’s grief.

He’d been right to suspect that the woman would take the news the hardest. If anyone Jasper had ever met deserved happiness, Esme did.

She’d already lost a son in a previous life. It felt cruel for history to repeat itself this way.

When the phone finally rang, Jasper answered it immediately.

“Hello?”

“I don’t have much time,” Alice spoke, her strained voice immediately soothing some of his anxieties just by the sound alone. “I have to make it quick so the flight attendant doesn’t interfere.”

“Where are you going?” He spoke, feeling the nerves in the house immediately begin to rise. He knew Carlisle and Esme were only in the next room, listening in as Eleazar and Carmen lingered close by.

“I’m going to stop Edward. There’s no getting a hold of him, so don’t even try. Our only chance at stopping him is by getting to him as soon as we can.”

“We?” That surprised him. It didn’t sound like an invitation. But quickly his surprise faded. Of course Bella would want part of whatever intervention Alice was staging. “And where, Alice?”

“Italy.”

“No,” he shouted the word before he could stop himself, and when he heard the sound of approaching footsteps he lowered his voice, curling himself around the phone as he walked in the opposite direction, “Alice, no.”

“If I don’t do this, Edward is as good as dead, Jasper.” Alice didn’t even sound surprised at his sudden outburst, of course. “Bella is alive, and once he sees that, I think we have a shot.”

“And if he doesn’t see that? What is he planning on doing? Join the Volturi?” It made little sense, but when it came to Edward’s fits, not much did. Of course, he was sure the alternative was more likely…

“He’s going to ask them to kill him.” She spoke, confirming his fears. “He knows they’re the only people who would willingly do it. And if they don’t want to do it willingly, he’ll force their hand.”

Jasper swore then, turning to see Carlisle standing in the doorway to the kitchen, a frown etched deep into his kind face. He knew the man could hear every word Alice was saying, even despite her lowered voice and hushed tone.

The two locked eyes for a moment before Jasper forced himself to look away and continue speaking.

“How?”

“I can’t be sure, I keep seeing him do different things, he keeps changing his mind.”

“What’s he picking between?”

“A killing spree through the city, attacking the guard, lifting a car over his head in the main square,” Jasper hissed at that, hating the fact that Edward was truly considering all of these things for Alice to get even a vague vision of them. Alice continued without a beat. “Mostly things that would expose them—he knows that’s he fastest way to force a reaction.”

“Alice, I don’t think you can stop him on your own.” Not that he doubted Alice’s abilities for a second, but if Edward was so ravaged by grief and hopelessness that he’d resort to murdering innocents, he couldn’t help but fear what his brother might do if Alice tried to stop him on her own. “I can be there, just give me some time to get to the airport.”

“No, you can’t.”

“You’re going to have company anyways once Emmett figures out where you are.”

“Tell Emmett no.”

“He and Rosalie are likely at Fairbanks International now.” He was surprised she wasn’t aware of that. He was sure they would have been calling Alice non-stop by now. Truly all of her attention was focused on Edward.

“Well, go after Emmett and Rosalie and bring them back.”

“Alice, I think we could be of some help there. Seriously.”

“Think about it, Jasper. If he sees any of us, what do you think he will do?”

Jasper sighed at that. But when he realized Alice was waiting on a verbal reply he closed his eyes, running a hand through his hair. “He’ll act faster. He’ll know we’re just trying to stop him. That we’ll tell him anything to get him to listen.” Even if it was the truth, that Bella was alive, Edward would absolutely never believe them, especially with Alice knowing his true intentions.

“Exactly. I think Bella is the only chance—if there is a chance…”

“Be honest, Alice. What is the chance? It sounds like he’s got a head start on you two.”

“I’ll do everything that can be done, but prepare Carlisle; the odds aren’t good.”

“And what happens then? If you fail. You’ll be in Volterra with nothing but a human at your side. Aro will,” he swallowed, trying hard to ignore Carlisle’s concerned gaze on his back, “he won’t want to let you go if he sees into Edward’s mind.”

Of course, Alice had the goddamn audacity to sound amused at the idea. “I’ve thought of that.”

He forced a few calm breaths, then. “Alice, you need to promise me you won’t put yourself in danger. I refuse to let this situation get worse than it already is. And it’s already bad enough. Promise me you’ll get out.”

“Yes, I promise.” But her words were too practiced. Too ready. No matter how much he trusted his wife, Jasper didn’t believe her for a second.

“I can be there soon, please. Alice, let me help. I’ll have Rosalie and Emmett come back to wait here with Carlisle and Esme. Do not do this alone.”

“Don’t follow me. I promise, Jasper. One way or another, I’ll get out.”

Jasper sighed. “If anything happens, all bets are off.” There was a moment of silence then, and when Alice didn’t contradict his words, he found himself feeling only the slightest bit better. If things went south, he’d be there, and nothing on god’s green earth would stop him. Alice had to know that.

Whether she’d seen it was something he didn’t want to know. (Because that would mean her failure was more likely than she was leading on.)

“Be safe, Alice,” he whispered, clinging to the phone with both hands now, knowing that soon she’d be gone, “I love you.”

“And I love you.”

He stood entirely still for several seconds before the beeping of the dead line brought him back to reality. Alice was on the way to a viper pit and here he was, standing in a too-big kitchen with marble countertops clutching a cordless phone like it was his lifeline. Told to sit and stay and wait, as if he’d ever been good at any of those three things in his goddamn life.

When Carlisle placed a hand on his shoulder, he nearly jumped, so taken off guard by the motion that the older man immediately apologized.

But when Jasper finally turned his eyes onto the man who had accepted he and Alice into his family over fifty years ago, it was easy to push the hesitance aside when Carlisle asked firmly, “What do we do now?”

And like always, Jasper had an answer for him. But not one he wanted to provide.

“We wait.”

#twilight saga #twilight fanfiction #MTHG #cmon content creators! #share a snippet of a WIP with a donate link! #post that link without fanfare! #encourage donations and offer content in return! #use your platforms for good you funky renaissance weirdos! #anyways this is mainly jasper/Alice bc 96% of my content is #so be sure to unclench those cheeks and try not to be a loser about that

[rubysunnday]

shelby sister & any of her siblings (your choice!) with the quote "I just wanted to make you proud of me" please? Also I hope you're having a good day!!! I love your writing 😊

A/N: No idea if this is what you wanted. I went off on a tangent (again)...

You were in big trouble. Big, big trouble. It didn’t matter that you’d successfully negotiated a new trade deal with Alfie and the Peaky Blinders after everything else had fallen through. It didn’t matter that you’d saved John from being shot and Finn from being kidnapped.

All they saw was that you’d gone against the main rule they’d given you when you’d insisted in being involved with the business. 

Don’t get involved. 

The irony of the rule wasn’t lost on you. In order to be involved, you had to not get involved. You were allowed to deal with the betting shop’s paperwork and any shipments between Alfie and Tommy, but that had been it. No Blinder business, no fighting - nothing.

Except, you’d broken that rule when you’d accompanied Finn and John down to Alfie’s, purely for paperwork reasons, only to end up single handily saving their lives whilst also creating a new trade deal that benefited everyone. John had been proud of you, smiling broadly at you as Alfie signed the paperwork. He too was impressed - he was more impressed with your aim than anything else - and offered you a free pass into his territory anytime.

But, when word got back to Tommy and Arthur about what you’d done…they were furious. 

“There was one rule, y/n!” Tommy yelled, slamming his hand down onto the table. Arthur stood behind him, saying nothing. You couldn’t decide what was worse: Tommy’s unrelenting, fury and rage or Arthur’s silent disappointment. 

“If you want me to be sorry, Tommy, it’s not going to happen,” you said. You were trying not to let on just how scared you were, staring down your older brother. Whilst you stood there, shoulders back and chin up, your shaking hands were behind your back, frantically twisting your mother’s ring around your finger. 

“‘It’s not going to happen’? Y/N, you could’ve killed someone!” Tommy yelled, his voice rising as he spoke.

“But I didn’t!” You yelled back, matching his volume. “I did more than either of you have in ten minutes than either of you have done these past two months1’

“The rule was,” Arthur said, getting involved for the first time, “that you don’t get involved. You stay out of any business, Blinder or otherwise. We trusted that you wouldn’t break that rule.” 

“And you broke that trust, endangering lives, almost getting John killed -“

“I SAVED JOHN’S LIFE!” You all but screamed, your anger reaching boiling point. “I saved his ass, I saved Finn from being kidnapped, I got you a new trade deal with Alfie and more area down in London. But, no, keep going on about how I’ve broken your trust, your sacred trust that, quite frankly, means shit these days, Tommy.”

Tommy looked at you, his eyes cold and hard. “You think you get to lecture me -“

“Well, someone has to!” You shrank back a little at his glare as Arthur put a hand on his shoulder. “I just wanted to make you proud of me. That’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. I am a woman. Because of that, there is very little I can do where I wouldn’t be taken advantage of, or ignored, or used. I wanted this job because it gives me something. You don’t see life as a business proposal, you see it as lots of little problems to be solved by killing a few people. For me,  my entire life is a business proposal. Tommy, Arthur, you control my future. You could marry me off to someone and I could do nothing about it. So, excuse me for trying to do something to make you proud of me, because god knows the world isn’t going to let me do it any other way.”

You stormed out of the office, slamming the door behind you. 

You didn’t make it far before you found yourself falling to the floor, crying. In a matter of seconds, Ada crouched down next to you, taking you in her arms and hugging you like Tommy used to. 

“I’ve really messed up, Ada,’” you said once the tears had slowed down. 

“No, sweetheart,” Ada said, stroking your hair, “they’ve messed up.”

-

You didn’t speak to either brother for two weeks. You moved in with John, avoided any family meeting and never going into the house unless you knew that they were out of town.  You’d sent Tommy a resignation letter the day after your argument and had managed to convince John into getting you a job at the Garrison, singing and serving drinks. Michael, Finn and John had somehow all managed to keep Arthur and Tommy out of the Garrison when you were working, leaving you with a bit of peace.

But, exactly two weeks after the incident, Tommy and Arthur marched into the Garrison, instantly clearing it out with one look. You sighed, coming out from behind the bar and beginning the tedious task of clearing up the mess, all the while purposefully ignoring the two men staring at you.

“Y/N,” Arthur began, but you ignored him. 

“I do believe we are now closed, sir,” you said coldly, “if you’d like to leave before I have to get you escorted out.”

“Are we really doing this?” Tommy asked, sighing. 

You slammed the tray of glasses down onto the table, turning to glare at him. “What do you want?”

Tommy walked over to the table next to you, pulling out a chair and sitting down in it. “Irish whiskey, please.”

You stared at him for a minute. He gave you a pointed look and you huffed, going behind the bar and pulling out the whiskey and three glasses, slamming them down in front of Tommy when you returned. 

“Now,” Tommy said, pouring the whiskey into the three glasses, “we are going to have a civil conversation which won’t result in any of us being ignored by Polly or Ada.” He slid your drink across the table to you and you took it, taking a big sip as you stared at Tommy and Arthur.

“So?” You prompted,  waiting for one of them to begin speaking.

Arthur sighed, sensing that Tommy, as much as it was his idea, wasn’t going to talk first.  “We’re sorry.”

“I know you’re sorry,” you said, looking at Arthur. “Tommy?” 

Tommy slowly exhaled the smoke from his cigarette. “I’m sorry. I over - reacted, considerably. I was just …”

“Shit at coping with emotion?”

“Overwhelmed,” Tommy corrected, kicking you under the table as you chuckled. “I didn’t appreciate what you did. Thank you.”

“Alfie got involved, didn’t he?”

“Oh, did he ever?” Arthur muttered.

Tommy gave his brother a look and Arthur instantly stopped muttering. “Look, y/n, we’re sorry. We just wanted to try and protect you from our world, forgetting that your world is very similar.” He reached down and placed a brown file on the table, sliding it towards you.

“What’s this?” You asked, pulling it closer. “Are you trying to buy my silence?”

Tommy chuckled. “No. It’s a new contract.”

“For?”

“Shelby Company limited. I’ve given you a pay rise, a promotion to my personal assistant and allowed you to accompany Finn and Isaiah on some errands.” You flipped open the file, reading the contract quickly as you tried, and failed, to contain your excitement. “I’ve also given you shares in the company.”

“I’m sorry, come again?” You said, gaping at your brother.

“Shares,” Tommy repeated. “Everyone in the family has some, but I’ve split mine with you. So, now, you own the company. We are partners in this business.” 

You said nothing, fingers dancing over the printed paper gently as you read the contract, your contract again. “Give me your pen.”

Tommy and Arthur chuckled as you snatched the pen out of Tommy’s hand, scribbling your signature onto the dotted line, trying not to smudge the ink. 

“We are proud of you, you know?” Tommy said suddenly as you waited for the ink to dry. “So incredibly proud.”

You nodded, trying not to cry. “I know, Tom, I know.”  You stood up and hugged Tommy, pulling Arthur in closer as he tried to scoot away. 

“I’m proud of you too, boys,” you whispered, kissing them each on the cheek. “Always.”

#peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders imagine #Shelby sister #tommy shelby x sister!reader #Shelby sis

[proxylynn]

Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #27

Chapter 27: Burden

WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^

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

[A quick recap]

My melancholy blinds me to my current surroundings. I only come out of it once a spotlight hits me.

"The hell...?"

Things look funny. No doubt it's a setup by Mettaton. But I'm unsure what this act is. I mean, it looks like a receptionist's waiting room. A desk and some random chairs.

"GOOD EVENING, LADIES AND GENTS...!"

Mettaton zips in wearing a red suit and shoves me in a chair as he takes center stage.

"FIRST AND FOREMOST, WE HERE AT MTTTV WOULD LIKE TO APOLOGIZE FOR THE LACK OF ME OVER THE COURSE OF THE PROGRAM. DUE TO THE LACK PREP WORK WITH MY COSTAR HERE, WE SADLY HAD TO FORGO A THRILLING ACT BACK IN LEVEL TWO INVOLVING HUNDREDS OF EXPLOSIVES!!"

I so freaking called it. I should let him have his moment...Nah!

"I thought you said that act was shit anyway?"

He extends an arm to cover my mouth.

"FORGIVE HER. SHE'S LOST A LOT OF BLOOD AND NOT ALL THERE MENTALLY."

I leer at him flatly.

"BUT...DARLING HERE IS GOING TO MAKE AMENDS WITH US ALL RIGHT NOW. IT'S TIME TO ANSWER SOME BURNING QUESTIONS."

I'm so confused as he lets go and leaps onto the desk, posing dramatically.

"IT'S TIME FOR..."

A large neon sign shaped like him drops from the ceiling.

"BURNING THE MIDNIGHT OIL WITH A KILLER ROBOT! THE LATE NIGHT TALK SHOW HOSTED BY YOURS TRULY."

Huh. Not a bad title.

"I thought you were working on a courtroom trial program?"

He scoots to now sit behind the desk.

"UNFORTUNATELY, WHILE I DO HAVE THE FUNDS, I DON'T HAVE AVAILABLE WORKERS TO MAKE SUCH A SET. SO...WE'RE DOING THIS INSTEAD."

"Heh...Must be hard to meet your expectations."

"DARLING, YOU HAVE NO IDEA."

A tense dramatic score plays.

"SO, DARLING...ARE YOU READY TO TELL ME EVERYTHING?"

Ah. I see now. Fine, Metta, have it your way. Just be careful what you wish for. You may not like it. Now don't get me wrong. I know my limits. I'm not about to tell him EVERYTHING. I'm not that stupid. But if he wants truth, he's going to get a version that's missing some characters and other junk.

"As you wish. You wanna know the truth? You want to scar the entire Underground? Sure. Why not. What else do I have to lose at this point since you exposed me? So congratulations! I hope you like the prize you've been longing to get. Because I sure as hell don't."

Let the show commence.

[Now our featured presentation]

"RIIIIGHT...ANYWAY...WHY NOT INTRODUCE YOURSELF. LET THE UNDERGROUND KNOW JUST A BIT ABOUT YOU."

I wave with a stupid grin to where I think a camera is.

"Howdy, monsters of the Underground. My name is Lynsie. Last I checked, I'm 5'8'', twenty eights years old, born November 7th, am a Scorpio, blood type A+, and enjoy long naps by the beach."

Am I introducing myself or recording a dumb dating profile video?

Mettaton whips out some cards from his desk.

"REALLY? YOU'RE THAT OLD? HUH."

"Yeah. Why?"

"YOU LOOK OLDER THAN THAT."

I sneer.

"It's the raccoon eyes. Insomnia is a hell of a slap to the face."

"THAT ASIDE...HOW ARE YOU FEELING? YOU'VE BEEN THROUGH A LOT SINCE THIS PROGRAM STARTED."

"I'm grateful to have this reprieve. It's nice to not be flung into fight after fight for a moment. I don't like fighting. I'd much rather avoid any conflict if able."

"SUCH A KIND GIRL. ARE ALL HUMANS THESE DAYS LIKE YOU?"

I eye him funny.

"WHAT?"

"Do mean 'kind' or 'stupid'? Because every monster has called me a fool for being nice."

"STUPID IS A STRONG WORD. NAIVE IS MORE LIKE IT."

I rumble lowly in my seat.

"But...To answer you properly, no. Not all humans are like me. Or...I'm not like most humans."

"OOOOH~, SUCH AN AMBIGUOUS ANSWER. FINE THEN, IF YOU'RE GOING TO BE LIKE THAT, I'LL HAVE TO BE MORE BLUNT IN MY QUESTIONS. LET'S SEE..."

He flips through some of his cards.

"OH! HERE'S ONE...HOW DID YOU COME TO FIND YOURSELF IN THE UNDERGROUND?"

Blunt? I'll give you blunt.

"Easy. I tried to kill myself."

[SNOWDIN: Skeleton House in present time]

The mood in the room sours as the human continues.

"Yep. You see, Mt. Ebott has a reputation, a legend dating back lord knows how long, that those who climb the mountain never return. This has made it a popular place to die. Not as bad as the literal 'Suicide Forest' of Japan, but it does the job okay."

Mettaton's screen blacks out.

"Don't give me that look. You wanted this. You wanted the truth. So take it. Take the blunt no holds bar truth of the matter. And you know what else? It wasn't the first time either. I can think of at least five other attempts. Each more pathetic than the last. But, if memory serves me right, I do believe my very first try was when I was still so very small. Somewhere around age six to eight. I had learned that apple seeds contain cyanide, a very toxic poison. Of course, there's not a heck of a lot in a single seed, but if you ingest a lot...well...Kid me didn't know how many were needed. Just that it was deadly. As you can see, I didn't have enough and I didn't try that form of suicide again. I don't try the same kind twice. I'm too fearful of messing things up the second time. What if it only partly works and I end up surviving? Heh...Trying to end it all only to live but in even worse condition? The irony would be such a hilarious joke. Then again, that's my life in a nutshell. One big cruel unrelenting joke."

Toriel's eyes water. She knew her child had her demons, but she knew not just how far back they spawned. Mettaton's screen relights.

"I...I WASN'T EXPECTING..."

"Yeah, no one does. No one expects me to be so dark. But what can I say? I do a damn good job hiding it."

"BUT...WHY THOUGH? WHAT WOULD MAKE A CHILD THAT BENT ON KILLING THEMSELVES?"

She takes a deep breath and lounges back in her chair.

"You ever feel guilty for something? Something you have no idea why you should feel that way for but you just do?"

She runs her hands over her face.

"I don't remember why I asked her that question. Maybe I was just morbidly curious. I knew my siblings were unexpected pregnancies. The eldest never came to be, so whether it was a boy or girl is forever unknown. My brother came about in the randomness of my mom hooking up with my dad. She married my dad because, well, she did like him but also so that he wouldn't be deported once his school visa ran out. He and his family escaped their homeland to start a new life...but did so illegally. Even on the surface, there's no true freedom. Four years into the marriage, I was born. Things only seemed to spiral from there. Dad would stay out drinking. Mom would be pissed. Bro and I would hide in my room and try to keep the fighting out. Mom gave up on him, someone else charmed her heart and would later be the father of my sister. Eight years into this world and they divorce and months later sis is born. She was unknown and with how old mom was at the time, she now suffers from spontaneous seizures."

The girl looks up in thought.

"So a few years ago, I asked mom...Was I unplanned like they were? Was I another surprise baby?"

She looks back down, her face holding a more cold expression.

"No, she told me. You were the only planned one. ...I should've stopped there. *sigh* I then asked...Why? She answered..."

Emotion leaves her.

"We had you in the hopes that you'd fix our marriage."

Silence. Dead silence.

"So much pressure. And to put that on a babe? How was I supposed to solve your problems? How is it my fault you couldn't stand each other when things got rough?! How is a kid supposed to make sure you don't start taking drugs and acquire sixteen felonies?! How is it my job to make sure you don't regret loving someone else?! How is that fair?! Why not take some fucking responsibility for once in your god damn life?!"

She becomes irate, grabbing one of the chairs and beating it into another one till both are useless before ending with a guttural roar that pains the throat in its harshness.

Toriel recalls similar words from her not long after they became close and she found her.

"Child? You're trembling. Is everything all right? Child, please. Just speak to me. Tell me what's wrong."

"I hate you! I hate all of you! You fucking pieces of shit! Why?! Why is it so hard for any of you to care?! I've been missing for days or weeks and none of you care! *sobs* Did you ever love me?! Why did you even bother having me if you don't even care that I'm gone?! *bawling* Why? Why? Someone tell me why...please..."

"I know this isn't the most pleasant of times to ask...But since we've come to know more about each other, I have been curious about something. The humans that fall down here...They tend to not fall down for the happiest of reasons. If it is not too painful...Can you share with me your reason? What made you come to a cursed mountain where none ever return from?"

"*hard sniffling* They used to care. I used to know what it was like to know others cared. I can't remember when they started to pull away. When I became invisible. I just want to know why. Was it something I did? Did I do something wrong? Did I not make them proud? I thought I did everything right. I was a good girl. *voice cracking* I'm a good girl. Aren't I?"

Even Grillby had memories of such talk pop into his head.

"You are an amazing person. You live in his cold place and open this bar to every sad face willing to cast aside their mean spirits for spirits of another kind. You put up with a lot of nonsense, a good bit came from me today, and I'm sorry about that."

"Where is all this coming from?"

"I'm not done. You have been nothing but nice to me. And doing that isn't easy in this world we live in. Since meeting you, you've shown me more kindness than I got from my own family, and this is only our second meeting. Heh, how pathetic is that? I fell into the Underground trying to die, only to end up wanting to live because of the few that showed me any decency. And for that, I give you my thanks."

"Pussycat?"

"I don't know if it was the punch or I'm just in a weird mood. I'm probably making things awkward. No one wants to hear someone ramble about lame junk when at a bar. This is a place people go to forget things. I know I've got a lot I want to forget. Like the three or four times I ran away from home but never had a plan and always had the cops take me back. Or the time I cussed out my grandma because I thought she lost my dog when it turned out my mom had dumped the pup at a shelter and told me it escaped. Or the suicide attempts..."

"Attempts?"

"Oh yeah, there was more than one. Hard to believe, but I'm a very sad person. No, that's being too nice. Depressed is more accurate. 90% of the smiles you see me do are fake. Just part of the mask I wear to hide how truly miserable I really am."

"God, I hate myself. I'm a sad pathetic mess."

Sans now gets a clearer picture of the baggage weighing on her.

"oh! and don't forget, you're making dinner. pap only let that slide because you were practically dead. so don't get any ideas thinking you can get out of it."

"Did you just really say that?!"

"the hell is your problem?"

"Did you really just insinuate she'd harm herself?"

"i dunno...maybe?"

"You can't say that kind of stuff to her!"

"why not?"

"You...You don't know how she came to the Underground, do you?"

"she told me that she fell."

"I'm not comfortable telling you this, seeing as she hasn't and I don't think it's my place, but I can't let you say idiotic things like that."

"okay, weed, you have intrigued me. if she didn't fall, then how did she get here?"

"Well...Falling is how she came to the Underground. But...She didn't fall from an accident."

"you're telling me she..."

"She fell on purpose. She...was trying to die. I don't know about her life on the surface. She doesn't tell anyone about that stuff, not even Mom. But I have been with her since the start and I can tell...Under all that toughness and pass the goofy dork innards...She's very sad deep down."

And that moment that recently happened at Grilbby's.

"enough with the act! you act all calm, with your little quips and remarks. making you look so well put together. but i know better. i know you're just as messed up as the rest of us. so why don't you get off your high horse and get out of my life!"

"You're right. This is an act. Every day, I wake up and I pretend to be this way. To play this role of the girl that never gives in and can smile through it all. I put on my mask and face this world as best that I can. But inside I'm dying. I'm being crushed by insecurities, doubt, depression, and so much negativity that I let myself fall into a pit hoping for the sweet embrace of death. I have attempted to end my life a good handful of times. Each more pathetic than the last. Even now, I'm just a few triggers shy of crumbling into a blubbering mass of tears. Yet there are few things that keep me from doing those bad things now that I'm here. And if putting on this act keeps me in, relative, ease...Then yeah. I'm gonna pretend my ass off that all is fine with me. Because I'm a fucking moron that is too afraid to open up to those closest to me and ask for help!"

Papyrus, of course, takes all this in as vital information he could use against the human. Her emotional and mental instability can be used to manipulate her. Grooming her to be more obedient to his will.

"I'm sorry."

"DAMN RIGHT YOU'RE SORRY."

"No...I mean, I'm sorry for earlier. It was wrong for me to hit you. You just...*sigh* How do I say this without sound like a dweeb?"

"JUST...SAY WHAT YOU WANT TO SAY. DON'T ALTER YOUR WORDS. THEY LOSE IMPACT THAT WAY."

"If that's true, then don't make a big deal out of this."

"W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

"I am an emotional wreck and going through so much internal bullshit that it ain't funny. So know that the stupid things I'm about to say are true because this is making me feel very vulnerable and uncomfortable which I think you feel too."

By now the human was breathing heavily over the shattered remains of once recognizable objects, slowly regaining her composure. She stares at the mess for some time. Mettaton doesn't even try to do anything that could get her attention while in such a state. Eventually, she drops the bits in her hands and takes a seat in the chair she spared. Slumping in remorse and holding her face.

"I'm sorry. That...That was shameful. I'll pay you back for the damage."

"DO YOU NEED A MOMENT?"

She rubs her eyes of faint moisture.

"N-No...No. I'm fine. That...That was just a moment of venting weakness. I normally cry this crap out of my system. But...I'm so sick of crying. Yet...That felt good though. So much pent-up bullshit I don't or can't let out was just dropped like weights off my back. ...Does this count as therapy? Because this feels better than that child physiologist mom sent me to after I ran away...the first time."

"SOUND LIKE YOU DON'T CARE FOR YOUR PARENTS."

"You'd think that, but no. Don't get me wrong. I love my parents. They could've been far worse even with the flaws I've mentioned. Dad never missed work and made sure bills could be paid. Mom always made sure we could eat even if it meant she didn't and often broke the law to do so."

Her head lolls back as she lounges.

"It's easier to dwell in the negatives than the positives growing up. It can make for a bitter soul. This is just the tip of a massive iceberg, there is so much more crap hidden below. But now is neither the time nor place to dive deeper into those murky waters. I'll drown if I stay under too long. *sigh* I don't hate them for the life they brought me into. I'm just...disappointed. Disappointed by the choices they made and things they expected to get from them. Disappointed in myself for allowing all that to have so much of a hold on me. Disappointed...So very disappointed...*long drawn out groan* Could we please leave the personal questions for now?"

"VERY WELL."

He flips through the cards.

"YOU'VE BEEN IN THE UNDERGROUND FOR SOME TIME NOW. HOW HAS THAT BEEN? WHAT IS IT LIKE TO BE A HUMAN AMONG MONSTERS?"

This gets their attention. The human knows better than to tell all. But she's so far been extremely open. They hoped she was of sound mind enough to remember to keep some secrets.

"Even after all the attempted murder...I prefer monsters to humans. Because at least once the fighting is over, things can be somewhat normal. It's like 'hey, I know I just tried to kill you, but do you wanna maybe hang out for a bit?' and then that happens. It blows my mind how there's no animosity or spite afterward. After Humans fight with each other there's no calm, no peace of it being over, hell, a war might break out if it was bad enough. You never know how bad someone feels after and if the grudge they carry will make them go to extreme measures to make them feel better. Well...Except for the Irish. Those lads can tussle and then be all chummy after like it was a bonding experience. Nice folk. Always fancied them. Heh...Kinda like Monsters. A tough outside but nice inside. Maybe that's one of the reasons they were persecuted too. ...God, my kind is trash. All it knows is hate. We even hate ourselves. And one day...That hate will be the end of us."

She moves some hair from her face. A small smile coming to her.

"Moments like this...It's nice. Brief pauses of reflection and repose. Typically I end up doing this kind of thing in my head or I talk to myself. Funny how that works, the mind I mean. It is a self-aware entity in itself that can be both you and not you at the same time yet won't confuse itself by doing so. Probably why the imagination is such vital part of it. *pause* Heh...My bad. Lost myself for a moment. Back on point...Sure, this all began with you nearly killing me and it's probably just leading up to something else. Something good or bad. Yet till that happens...This is nice."

"SPEAKING OF NICE...YOUR LV HASN'T GONE UP FROM ITS BASE LEVEL. WE'VE SEEN YOU GO INTO FIGHTS, SO IT'S NOT THAT YOU'VE AVOIDED THEM COMPLETELY."

"As I've said...I don't like fighting."

"YOU MUST BE AWARE THAT PACIFISUM IS NOT A RECOMMENDED OR AN EASY THING TO DO IN THE UNDERGROUND. IS IT HARD BEING NICE FOR YOU DOWN HERE?"

"Is it hard for a fish to swim or bird to fly? Nice is my default. I don't have it in me to be genuinely mean. I can be rude or even a bitch, but that's only if that was how I was treated first. The real hard part about it is getting others to understand this niceness is real. Some pick it up with no trouble. But others are difficult. Going so far as to think I'm trying to lull them into a false sense of safety as part of an evil human trap. Can you believe that?"

Sans eyes Papyrus who rolls his sockets at his brother, both knowing damn well she meant him.

"EVEN SO, HAS THERE BEEN A TIME WHERE YOU WANTED TO FIGHT BACK? SURELY EVEN I PROBABLY INCURRED SOME IRE FROM YOU?"

She looks at the mechanical machination with a mix of confusion and annoyance.

"Ire is a strong word. True, I'm not happy about this situation. Exposing me for ratings. One of your goons bashing me over the head. The creepy stalking behavior by watching me through cameras. The needless puzzles and fighting. All of it wasn't necessary."

"I DISAGREE. EVERY BIT WAS COMPLETELY NECESSARY."

"Bull crap."

"NOW NOW, LET ME EXPLAIN. REGARDLESS OF YOUR INTENTIONS, YOU HAVE TO AGREE THAT YOU BEING HUMAN DOES CALL FOR CERTAIN MEASURES TO BE TAKEN. HUMANS DEAL PHYSICAL DAMAGE AND MONSTERS ARE WEAK TO SUCH ATTACKS."

"I know that. Get to your point, Metta."

"MY POINT? VERY WELL. MY DATABASE CONTAINS THE COLLECTED INFORMATION WE'VE GATHERED FROM THE PREVIOUS HUMANS THAT CAME BEFORE YOU. EACH WEAKER AND WEAKER AS TIME PASSED. YOU, ON THE OTHER HAND, HAVE BEEN DISPLAYING STRANGE ABILITIES..."

A monitor comes down, displaying the human in her earlier distress and giving off that strange energy.

"NOT TO MENTION YOUR SOUL HAS BEEN CHANGING IT'S COLOR WITHOUT MAGIC INFLUENCE."

The monitor shows the many different colors her soul was throughout the show.

"SO, DARLING, AS YOU CAN SEE EVERYTHING HAS BEEN COMPLETELY NECESSARY. EVERY LITTLE OBSTACLE ALLOWED FOR MORE OF YOUR UNKNOWNS TO BE REVEALED. HOWEVER..."

The monitor goes back up.

"I GET THE FEELING YOU'RE STILL HIDING SOMETHING."

She glares at the robot.

"I repeat, this wasn't necessary. All you needed to do was ask."

She sits up straight and focuses. Her soul emerges...it is a deep dull blue.

"I don't know everything. Seeing as this whole 'soul' thing isn't known on the surface anymore. To use now, the soul is an intangible thing. It leaves when we die and does whatever since no one truly knows what happens after death. But...I do know my soul isn't normal. Not normal from what I've learned here anyway. I possess ten traits for which my soul can become."

Shock smacks them. Even Mettaton spits oil from some port.

"T-TEN?!"

She nods.

"Ten traits. Ten colors. Nine of which are completely fine."

Her breathing falters as she concentrates harder, forcing the soul to change color to her will.

"Blue, integrity. Cyan, patience. Green, kindness. Pink, passion. Purple, perseverance. Orange, bravery. Red, determination. Yellow, justice. White, hope. ...These are my main traits. The nine that make up my core personality. Yet...There is one, the last one, that I will not show you. No matter what."

A question mark appears on Mettaton's screen. Toriel and Sans know full well which one she means.

"WON'T SHOW? HOW COME?"

"That soul is too dangerous. One that I can't control. The black soul of relentlessness."

Papyrus sockets widen. Sans wasn't making it up after all.

"IF YOU TRULY EXPECT ME TO BUY INTO THIS BLACK SOUL NONSENSE THAN YOU BETTER FIND A WAY TO PROVE TO ME THAT IT'S REAL!"

"and how do you expect me to do that? have it triggered and let her kill half the town?"

"OF COURSE NOT! SHE'D NEVER GET THAT FAR INTO SUCH A SPREE ONCE I SLAY HER."

"YOU DON'T THINK I CAN KILL HER?"

"her? sure, you'd kill her no problem. she'd probably let you do it if things got really bad. but the black soul? that's a different story all together."

"YOU TALK AS THOUGH YOU'VE SEEN THIS 'BLACK SOUL' IN ACTION."

"..."

"YOU HAVE, HAVEN'T YOU?"

"that thing isn't something you want to mess with. don't go after something you can't handle."

"YOU DARE THINK THAT PITIFUL CREATURE CAN HARM ME?!"

"no! i don't think it would harm you! i know it would kill you!"

"I have no will over that trait. It consumes me utterly. Coldly targeting anything and everything as a threat, then calculatingly eliminating victims brutally with no remorse by any means. Pain doesn't phase it. It has no fear. But I do. I fear this soul. I fear becoming that...that thing. That beast."

The robot's screen blips.

"YOU MAKE IT SOUND TERRIBLE. IF IT'S AS BAD AS YOU SAY, HOW HASN'T YOUR LV INCREASED? SURELY A MURDEROUS SOUL LIKE THAT WOULD HAVE A BODY COUNT ATTACHED TO IT?"

"I have thankfully been taken out of that state when it happens. My brother down here, the flower you may have seen me with, he's the one that saves me. I don't know how he does it as I only barely register what happens when the Black Soul is in control. But it's one of the reasons why we stay together. He doesn't want to die and I don't want to hurt anyone, so it's a good deal for us both."

"AND DO YOU KNOW WHAT TRIGGERS SUCH A STATE TO HAPPEN?"

"I'm not 100% sure but I have a theory. The worst of times. Moments when I lose all hope or can't take the pain. Mentally and/or physically. It takes over when I can't deal with things. And I guess it tries to 'solve' the problem...by getting rid of it."

Her demeanor is becoming more unsettled as she continues.

"I...I normally am unwilling to share this information. I don't like being personal with strangers. But since this is a live broadcast, and I've basically torn open a can of worms full of my emo baggage, I want this to be known. I need others to understand the danger. Because you all seem to view me as an easy kill. The dumb nice human that doesn't fight back. It'll be easy to get her soul. Hell, if it weren't for the black trait, I'd have given this thing to you guys ages ago. But it's not worth it. There's no point going to the surface, otherwise I'd be more inclined to leave and be subjected to the crap I deal with. And trust me...You don't want to know what I deal with."

Her eyes get dark and her expression serious to the point it's unnerving.

"The death that can possibly happen if the black soul activates and isn't stopped could be limitless. As the bearer of this curse, I remain here. Not because I see less harm if it triggers around monster, hell no. I trust my death to you because I have faith in monster kind being able to handle it. It's because I don't want to risk it being weaponized by humanity. Magic...REAL magic like this is gone from the surface. If it were to be discovered now...Magic will be coveted like any other valuable resource. Blood and dust will be spilled over ownership. The experiments to find a better means of harvesting it, the torture, the suffering, the endless cycle of hate feeding upon the lack of morality. I have no doubt monsters wouldn't even be seen as people. We've done it to different creeds of humanity throughout history, hell we still do it. I...I don't want that for Monsters. Part of me is saying I'm overthinking it, but I can't that optimistic side of me knowing all the fucked up shit Humans do. I don't want you guys to suffer. I don't want to cause harm. I don't want to see any more death! Please!!"

Her eyes are watering and her body trembling.

"I...I-I hate this feeling. This h-helplessness. I'm caged. I'm useless. I'm nothing on the surface. I'm a danger underground. I'm my own worst enemy and I don't know how to fight. *struggling* Why? Why didn't the fall kill me? Why can't I just die? Why am I so weak? I can't even bleed to death!"

She's a mess, weeping into her gloved hands. But Mettaton dismisses this display and keeps going.

"WEAK? YOU SELL YOURSELF SHORT. CLAWING INTO YOUR OWN BODY ISN'T A VERY WEAK THING AT ALL. COME TO THINK OF IT...IN YOUR ENCOUNTER WITH MUFFET, YOU TOLD HER WHY YOU DID IT. CARE TO EXPLAIN WHAT YOU MEANT?"

A recording is played.

["I have just spent an ungodly amount of time trapped in that elevator over there having my soul violated by people that don't even exist anymore on this plane of reality. I have clawed my skin off to stop feeling their hands on me."]

Her face has the look of someone biting their tongue fairly hard to stay in control.

"What's to explain? I meant what I said and said what I meant."

"YOU'RE AVOIDING THE QUESTION, DARLING."

"No. You're refusing the answer."

"YOU SAID YOU'D TELL THE TRUTH!"

"I am!"

Agitation mounts.

"BULLSHIT! HOW THE HELL CAN ANYONE BELIEVE THAT?"

"I don't give a crap if you believe me or not! You weren't the one there!"

"JUST TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!"

"It doesn't matter! You can't do anything about it! No one can! You can't stop people that break the laws of reality!"

Sans didn't like what he was hearing. And none of them liked that her still exposed soul was sparking with that strange energy.

"THERE ARE NO PEOPLE LIKE THAT!"

"How would you know?!"

"IF EVEN A FLY FARTS ANYWHERE IN THE UNDERGROUND, I KNOW ABOUT IT. IF ANYONE WITH ABILITIES LIKE THAT WERE HERE, THEY WOULDN'T BE UNKNOWN FOR VERY LONG."

"Did you not hear my words? They don't even exist anymore on this plane of reality! You can't find people that are outside time and space, you fucking idiot!"

"I'M THE IDIOT?! DO YOU NOT HEAR YOURSELF?! OUTSIDE TIME AND SPACE?! YOU CAN'T EVEN MAKE A CONVINCING LIE!"

"I'm not lying, you insufferable ego-maniacal narcissistic jackass!"

"TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED!!"

"I did! Accept the fact there is shit in life you can't fathom or comprehend yet is true! Like Bigfoot, life on other planets, or stigmata! Unexplained phenomenons are the backbones of reality! Deal with it!"

"THAT'S NOT AN UNEXPLAINED PHENOMENON! THAT'S A PURE IMPROBABLE IMMPOSSIBLITY!"

"By who's rule?! Are you God?! Do you know every infallible law the universe runs on?! No! You know nothing! No one does! So stop digging for shit that isn't there before something bad happens!"

"THEN GIVE ME A REAL ANSWER!"

"Stop...Please stop!"

"DARLING..."

"I s̷ái͟d͝ s̷t̢̛o̧͘p̀͟!̵̕͜!̧"

A surge of energy bursts from her soul, the flash whites out the screen and hurts the eyes. While blinded they all can hear the garbled sounds of pain and the sudden thud of weight hitting the floor. Their sight comes back to see the human writhing on the ground and gripping her soul, teeth bared in restrained growling.

"DARLING?"

She struggles to make her body move. Just slightly getting her head off the floor.

"Th͜i͞s͠...͜T́h̴i̵s̸ ̛įs ̕y̕our ̛f́aul͝t͏..̢.̴I͜ ͟a͡ske͝d ͠y̕o͏u t̷o͜ ͜s̛top..̢.̵"

The energy courses from her soul over her form, a brighter than normal light emanates from her clutched soul. She weakly pulls herself up to be supported by her free arm and the reason for the light is made clear, a crack has marred her soul. But that is far from the worst part. Sans spots it before Toriel but she's the one that points it out.

"Oh no!"

"What's wrong?"

"The darkness!"

Indeed. Black began to appear in the human's heart. The darkness corrupting the white light and faintly leaking out of the crack. The girl feels this. Panic flashes in her eyes but she's in no condition to handle so much on top of what has already happened.

"Wh̸en̢ wil̡l҉ ̛yo͡u̶ le͘ar͜n.͞..̡Y͘ou ̴fuc̀kín͜g id̴iot.̸..W͢hén wil̡l yoų ́a̶l̢l͜ léar͘n that͏ ̵y͘our act̵i҉o͞ns ͏ha͡v̛e ͘co͡n̴seq͘uenc͘e̶s͘?͘!"

The distortion. The off tone. The malice that seeped out. Perhaps it was enough proof for the automaton to believe her earlier words. For Mettaton seems to be distracted one second and then takes it all seriously the next. One of his hands snakes under his desk and the next thing to happen is the floor beneath the human opens up, dropping her into the unknown. Glitched roaring echoes as she plummets. A sickening crash leads into dead silence.

"WELL...THAT WAS INTERESTING."

His nonchalance about the whole thing is upsetting.

"SADLY, MY CO-STAR SEEMS TO BE HAVING A BIT OF TROUBLE. NOT EVERYONE CAN HANDLE THE STRESS OF BEING IN THE SPOTLIGHT, LIKE MOI."

His flamboyance is rubbing them the wrong way.

"HOWEVER, DESPITE HER TEMPER TANTRUM AND LACK OF COOPERATION, I WILL ASSURE YOU ALL SHE IS NOT DEAD. I MERELY GAVE HER THE SMALL BREAK THAT SHE CLEARLY NEEDED."

It's likely that the break involved her bones or some body part.

"BUT...I CAN GIVE YOU ALL SOMETHING TO LOOK FORWARD TO...THIS WAS THE LAST PRELEWD ACT. THE NEXT TIME YOU SEE US TOGETHER, IT WILL BE FOR THE MAIN EVENT. THE FINAL BATTLE APPROACHES, MY ENCOURAGABLE VIEWERS. DO NOT MISS OUT ON THIS HISTORICAL MAKE OR BREAK MOMENT."

The show shifts into a commercial break.

Toriel begins shaking. She can't deal with this much longer. Grillby does what he can to give her support, but he too has much on his mind. His pussycat unloaded a TON of things and a lot of it was incredibly concerning. Papyrus ushers his brother away from the other two as not to be overheard.

"SO...HOW LONG?"

Sans looks at him funny.

"uh...what?"

"HOW LONG WERE THE BOTH OF YOU GOING TO HIDE THIS PART OF THE SECRET FROM ME?"

"um...which part?"

"THAT POWER. SHE HAS TEN TRAITS, SANS. JUST HOW STRONG IS THAT GIRL?"

Sans scratches his skull.

"i honestly don't know, pap. i didn't even know she had that many. my main worry was always the black trait, so i never asked about others."

Papyrus folds his arms and shuts his eyes in thought.

"i swear, i ain't lying to ya."

"I KNOW YOU'RE NOT."

"then...what's wrong?"

"*HUFF* I DON'T LIKE THIS. I DON'T LIKE THE IDEA OF THAT WEAKLING BEING POWERFUL."

His eyes open but look at nothing.

"I SHOULD'VE KNOWN SOMETHING WAS OFF THAT NIGHT...THAT PUNCH...SHE WAS HOLDING BACK SO MUCH..."

Papyrus clenches his fists into tight balls of rage.

"THAT BITCH."

"ya know she didn't want to hurt ya."

"THAT'S THE THING. SHE THOUGHT SHE COULD HURT ME. HOW WEAK DOES SHE THINK I AM? THAT'S WHAT'S PISSING ME OFF MORE THAN ANYTHING RIGHT NOW."

Sans sighs. One day his brother will taste humble pie and not like it.

[HOTLAND: LAB]

Undyne finishes off her sixth bowel of ramen and looks at Alphys.

"Well...That wasn't how I thought it was going to end. Was it really necessary to tell him to drop her?"

Alphys takes a few more notes and ponders.

"Would you rather there be no main event? Besides..."

She adjusts her glasses.

"If what the human said is true, then the Black Soul being triggered in an open area would result in mass casualties. The zone in which the ending will be shot in is, for the most part, closed and under my remote control. So even in the event of something going wrong, which the odds of such are highly unlikely, then any and all threats can be dealt with in an optimum manner."

Undyne nods.

"I guess that makes sense. Still...I don't what I saw. There was real fear in the human's eyes."

"Good. She should be afraid. She should be very afraid of what's to come."

"And what's that?"

"That would be spoilers."

"Damn it. *sigh* A human soul with ten traits...Sounds tough. I wanna fight it!"

"It does raise a lot of questions. One, in particular, is on my mind."

"What's that?"

"If a human soul, deprived of magic, possesses ten traits and begins gaining magic...What will happen when it attains 100% magic?"

A cold chill runs through the captain.

[HOTLAND: SOMEWHERE ON LEVEL 3]

I am getting so sick of this crap. Why can't I just die at this point?

"*muffled* Lynsie?"

The voice and light jostling is bringing me back to consciousness. Damn it. Here I go again.

My eyes weakly open to the sight of dirt and rock. Just an inch away from losing the ability to see. Like I need a handicap in all this.

"Lynsie? Are you okay?"

Ah, Flowey. It's about time we met back up.

"*groan* H-Hey, bro. I missed you."

He smiles sadly.

"Are you okay? Can you move?"

I roll over on my back and check myself.

[HP ██████████ 10/40]

[HEARTBREAK level ONE in effect]

I figured that's what happened. No wonder the Black Soul was triggering. Thank goodness for the fall knocking my ass out or things would've gone bad fast.

"I think I'll be okay. Sore, but okay. I'm sadly getting used to falling and possible brain damage."

My answer has him pout.

"What's with the face, bro? You know I'm a tough cookie. I'll be fine."

His face gets full of concern.

"I...I heard what you told Mettaton."

Yeah, you and the rest of the Underground.

"I...I understand now why you didn't talk about your past. Why you kept to yourself. I'm sorry."

God, he's too sweet for this place. I reach over and gently stroke his petals.

"I love you, bro. You have no idea how much it means to me that you care. But don't pity me. I do that enough on my own."

I wearily sit up, shaking my head of all that baggage I brought up for the show.

"I wasn't pitying you. It's just..."

He fiddles with his leaves in a shy way but I cut his words off.

"Bro, I get it. I do. It's the same feeling like when you told me your history. Yet, let's be honest here, you're more mentally mature than me and I'm still not completely okay after getting all that off my chest. We can talk more about it later after this ordeal is over. Maybe over mom's cheesecake? Deal?"

"...You mean it?"

"Yeah. I promise."

He smiles brightly.

"Okay. I'd like that."

I pick myself up and stretch, taking a look around at where we are.

"Don't tell me he dropped me back at the start."

"Nope. This is still Level Three. In fact...I do believe MTT Resort is just past this place."

"...For real? Is it a safe space?"

"Yep. There are shops and rooms to rest."

I hear a heavenly choir sing in my head.

"Finally! The universe throws me a decent bone!"

I regret saying that the moment it leaves my mouth. Flowey looks at me funny.

"Don't take that out of context, you know what I meant."

"I don't know. You and Smiley Trashbag are eerily close."

My eye twitches. Things I wish Gaster didn't show me try to pop into my head.

"Are you okay? You look like you're about to puke."

"Never insinuate something like that ever again."

He shakes his head at me. I try to change the subject before I have a heart attack on camera.

"So...Are you able to follow me to the resort? I'm sick of being separated."

"There's ground outside of it and parts I can reach beyond it, but the resort itself I can't get in without some sort of aid like a pot. Cement and tile flooring is a pain to break into."

"Damn, bro, you hella strong."

There's a deactivated reversed conveyor belt that's attached to the artificial platforms.

"Is it safe to cross? It's kinda giving me 'trap' vibes."

"You should be fine. This is normally the part where the colored tiles would be used again, but you know, stuff changed. It's probably off."

"Ah. Gotcha. I guess...See ya soon?"

"You bet."

He ducks into the ground so I take it as my time to leave this pit. The entire time I feel on edge. With my luck, the trap will turn on and I get screwed. Thankfully nothing happens apart from some jets of flame randomly going off in the distance and making me jump like a wuss. At least it got me to the stairs quicker.

After a quite the climb, I reach the top perturbed yet undaunted as a four-way crossroads greets me, though the two paths on the sides are blocked. More Royal Guards, a cat to the left and some kind of insect on the right, both in that imposing armor.

"Well if it isn't my best customer..."

The Ice Scream rabbit pops up from behind the cart I wasn't paying attention to.

"Fancy seeing you again."

As odd as seeing him here is, he's a familiar face that is a sight for my sore eyes. I approach.

"Hey, guy, what's up? Haven't been seeing you much in Snowdin Forest for a bit."

He leans on the cart like a cool guy.

"Yeah...Been moving around seeing if I can make mad gold somewhere where the weather isn't the same temp as my product."

"Any luck?"

"Waterfall wasn't so bad. Even started a new program with rewards cards. Turn in a card with ten punches and get a free doubling of your next order. Speaking of which..."

He reaches into his pants pocket and hands me a punch card. Some holes have already been made.

"If it wasn't for you, I wouldn't have had the funds to get this far. So...Instead of starting your card full, I may have added your previous buys. Can't say I haven't gotten better at my wonderful salesmanship."

I can't help but smile. He's come a long way. I'm proud of him.

"Well then, wonderful salesman, I'd like to add some more holes please."

"Heh...sure. But I'm warning you, prices have gone up. 25G. Got to charge more here 'cause of the heat."

"Understood, my dude. Um...Just curious...Got fudge pops? Kinda have this hankering for something chocolate."

He shakes his head.

"Sold out. The Royal Guards bought those like crazy."

"Damn. Oh well. One blue, orange, grape, and blood. All bisicles."

He fills my order and I pay the 100G.

"Here you go. All five ready to enjoy."

I look at him funny.

"Five?"

"Yep. Five. I definitely didn't toss in a strawberry one because of customer loyalty. Nope. Didn't do it."

Must...resist...the urge...to HUG!!

"...Thank you. That...That means a lot."

He gives me a wink and I practically skip away up another set of stairs. I place the treats in my inventory for now. I know not what crap will happen from here, so healing items are a big help.

I am met by a large complex. Redbrick that's been tagged with graffiti, yellow-tinted windows with some broken, a gold MTT sign with two Mettaton images with devil horns, a black & white checkered awning over the door, two large plant potters that have dry withered flower remnants, and a blood-red or just stained that way rug embroidered with gold MTTs.

"Classy."

I'm about to head inside when something hits my leg. A paper airplane? I inspect it to find it's a note.

[Hey! Go up the creepy alleyway on the right for some great deals!]

"...I'm gonna get mugged, aren't I?"

It's against my better judgment, but this is a neutral zone, so I should be okay. I wearily creep around, following spray-painted arrows, to end up finding two girls gossiping among garbage. They notice me and straighten up.

"Hey! Check it out!"

"Yeah! Check it out!"

"So, like, what's up? I'm Bratty, and this is my best friend, Catty."

"I'm Catty, and this is my best friend, Bratty."

Oh no...More valley speak!?! Why is that a thing down here?!

Bratty is a tall, green alligator or crocodile monster that wears a primarily black shawl with yellow and red details on the sides. She has yellow hair that flows into curls and red lipstick.

Catty is a plump purple cat creature who wears a set of black overalls with yellow buttons and tufts of red fur with yellow highlighted tips coming out from under it on either side. She has black hair with a red streak in it and a yellow earring on her left ear.

"Uh...Hi? So...This is a shop?"

"Like, the best shop!"

"You should buy ALL our stuff!"

Catty gets this blanket out and opens it out to show me their items. They don't have much, just four things, but I can't turn away from these items.

[25G - Junk Food - Has a big bite out of it]

[350G - Rusty Revolver - Bullets NOT included]

[350G - Tattered Western Hat - ATTACK up when worn]

[600G - Mystery Key - Probably to someone's house LOL]

A gun...How the fuck is that here?

"Oooh! I know that look!"

"That's the look of some wanting something!"

"Bratty! We're gonna be rich!"

"Where did you find this stuff?"

"I mean, like, where does anyone get guns, or food, or..."

"We found it in the garbage!"

I so called it.

"It's GOOD garbage."

"It's like, really good garbage."

"Where do you get the garbage?"

"Like, the garbage store, duh!!! ...Waterfall mostly."

"I found a gun in a dumpster!"

I check my gold...I don't have anywhere close to 1,300G for their garbage.

"Um...Maybe we could work out some sort of arrangement?"

They glare.

"That's poor talk."

"You need WAY more money."

What I need is to get that stuff away from them. That stuff is bad enough with humans, I don't want monsters messing with crap like guns.

"Ladies, I'm sure there's something we can do. Shops run on trade. This is just a trade of a different kind. I can't give you the gold, but I can get you other things. There's gotta something you'd both want that I can fetch for you in exchange?"

They mull it over.

"Thanks, but we, like, don't really need anything."

"Oh my god, can you go get us some Dazzleburgers?"

"We don't. Really need. Anything."

"Wait! I'll pay you 1000G if you get Mettaton to autograph my butt!"

Catty seems to be the easier one here. Maybe I can work with this.

"While I do know the guy, I'm not sure I can get Metta to sign your butt."

"Damn."

"Wait...You know Mettaton?!"

Their eyes sparkle.

"...Yes?"

They squeal with fanatical glee.

"Oh my God. Mettaton."

"Oh my GOD, METTATON."

"He's like...My robot husband."

"Actually he's like...MY robot husband."

"I think we're like...both going to marry him."

"We're both like, ALREADY married to him. He just, like, doesn't know it yet."

They're insane.

"Okay...Can I ask what's a Razzburger? I could try to get that."

Their eyes widen in shock.

"You don't know what a Dazzleburger is?"

"Do you, like, live under a rock?"

Don't we all do since this is a mountain?

"Dazzleburgers are epic!"

"They're only sold in the resort."

Interesting.

"Inside huh? Let me guess...Very pricey."

Bratty nods.

"The stuff inside, is like..."

"TOTALLY wicked expensive."

"But, like, this stuff we found is like..."

"TOTALLY wicked cheap."

"You should..."

"Like..."

"TOTALLY wicked buy all of it?"

"Cheap? You're selling a random key for 600G!"

They giggle at me and I sigh. Bitches, man...bitches.

"So where inside am I gettin' them?"

"The MTT-Brand Burger Emporium."

"You have to get them from Bugerpants."

That name...That name brings back memories...as well as sore spots. Douche-cat...

"Burgerpants."

"Yeah, that guy from the store. Yuck, what a creep."

"Yeah! He's a creep! But he's kind of cute, too..."

"C'mon Catty, don't you have ANY standards?"

"Nope!!!"

...You need standers, Catty.

"Yeah, I met him. Not so much a creep but he is a massive prick."

"OK, like, the annoying thing is..."

"He'd be OK if he just treated us with some respect."

"But he just acts..."

"Really weird."

"And then acts like it's OUR fault he acts that way!"

"Like, when we asked him to get those Dazzleburgers..."

"He dropped them and ran away before we could even say anything!"

"We were, like, going to share them."

"Really? I wasn't."

"Catty!"

This zone is full of awful people.

"One last thing...How many you want?"

Catty waves her paws.

"So many! Enough to fill a dumpster!"

"The mega value pack should cover us."

I give Bratty a thumbs up and leave their shady establishment. Now I enter the main building and this time I'm greeted by someone for once. It's either very diamond-like or very origami-like, but above all, it's a tiny monster.

"Welcome to MTT Resort - Hotland's biggest apartment-building-turned-hotel! Whether you're here for a night or still live here, MTT Resort prides itself on a great stay! Just passing through...? Nice! MTT Resort prides itself on being passed through!"

"Interesting business model. Does it work?"

"Oh, indeed it does, human."

"You know what I am?"

"Oh yes! The staff has been informed of your coming and instructed on how to handle you upon arrival."

Oh god, what now?

"Over on your left, we have a dine-in restaurant complete with a stage which hosts a wide cast of live acts. Either comedy done by locals or Mettaton entertains when he isn't too busy."

"Neat."

"If you're feeling like you hate yourself, behind me is the MTT-Brand Burger Emporium, home of the Dazzleburger!"

Well, they know how fast food works.

"All further questions can be taken to my coworker behind the desk."

I scratch my head and shrug.

"Thanks."

I walk away and head for the other receptionist. It's not a bad-looking lobby at least. Red & yellow checkered tiles and the rug from outside continues forward into parts unknown. The obnoxious fountain of Mettaton is gaudy though. I reach the desk and the monster behind it is a weird one. It's blue and its head is a hand with very well manicured red nails.

"Yes, we know. The elevator music volume is super loud and the song is stuck on a three-second loop. We are working on it. Because of this incident, rooms are running at a special rate! 200G a room. Interested?"

Someone sounds grumpy.

"No thank you. I was told to come to you. I'm the human if that helps."

Their head fingers extend in alert.

"Oh! Sorry. I was instructed to inform you on where to go next."

"That would be helpful, yes."

It motions to where the rug is heading.

"If you follow the rug there, you'll be lead out back to the entrance of the CORE. Mettaton will be waiting for you at the top."

"Could I use the elevator instead? All this travel is exhausting."

"No can do. The elevator leads to the Capital and main residence of our people. You're not allowed to go there."

"Oh...That's fine. I didn't want to go there. Just trying to take shortcuts if able."

"*ahem* If you require a small rest, might I suggest renting a room?"

"I don't the gold, sorry."

"That's fine. Mettaton has pre-paid a room for you. One time only."

I'm stunned. Damn him! Why does he confuse me so much?! I want to like and hate him at the same time!

"Um...In that case, sure. Where are rooms?"

They motion again.

"Down the hall to the right."

I wait for them to give me a key or card but nothing is there except awkwardness.

"Is there a problem?"

"No...not really. But...uh...Isn't this the part you give me a room key?"

"What? Room...Key? No, we don't do that. If you leave your room, you'll have to pay again."

So if I enter I can't leave or else I'll have to pay? That's insane!

"On second thought, maybe later."

"Shame. Do let us know if you change your mind. Have a sparkular day!"

I'm getting the feeling they're being nice because they were told to be. Otherwise, I doubt I'd be given such a warm welcome. Oh well. Time to pay a certain someone a visit.

I stroll up to the emporium and find myself paused. I can go about this in many ways. The different choices and outcomes play out in my head super fast. After a few, I settle on something...something that'll leave an impression. I push the doors open. A digital bell sounds. I look at what appears to be a sadder version of McDonald's. And like a mindless corporate drone, he speaks while moping the floor before seeing "who" just walked in.

"Welcome to MTT-Brand Burger Emporium, home of the Dazzleburger. Sparkle up your day (TM)."

He begins to turn around.

"What can I do to..."

His eyes widen seeing me, grinning sadistically at him like a lunatic.

"Uh...help?"

This hurts my throat to do, but it really sells this whole thing. I deepen my voice to imitate Dr. Claw from Inspector Gadget and just laugh. He is unnerved to say the least.

"*menacing* No one will help you."

"H-Hey now...Don't think of doing anything funny."

I walk up to him and he backs away slowly before leaping behind the counter.

"Stay back! You can't hurt anyone in shops!"

I keep the deep voice.

"*menacing* Hurt you? Foolish boy...Why would I do that? It's not like you put a cigarette out on my wrist and bashed my head with a bat!"

That last part was done a bit too harsh and I end coughing. All seriousness leaves.

"*coughs* Nah, man...*normal* I ain't gonna do anything. For reals. I was just messing with ya."

He eyes me funny.

"Riiiiiight...What do you want then?"

"Preferably, my phone."

He flinches, his eyes looking quickly down then darting back up.

"I..."

"Metta doesn't have to know."

"What do you mean he won't know?! He knows everything that goes on here!"

"Look, you either give me my phone, or I'm gonna go back there and take it."

"You're not seri..."

My dead stare shuts him up. He seems to freeze up now. I sneer and put my hand out. He looks at my hand and then starts sweating. I'm beginning to lose my patience.

"You have five seconds."

His fur stands on end and he suddenly slams his face on the countertop, giving himself a bloody nose.

"Sorry, (Ha ha) it's against the rules to talk to customers who haven't bought anything. And talking with you this long has put me in serious shit. If you want this 'exchange' to continue, you're going to make a purchase."

I'm not happy.

"...What do you have?"

[60G - Sorebet - Very popular food.]

[120G - Dazzleburger - Very popular food.]

[300G - Mythical Villain - Anti-Hero Sandwich. ATTACK UP in battle.]

[500G - Biltong Slab designed to look like Mettaton - Don't ask. Please.]

I huff through my nose and shell out the 60G.

"That Sorebet better come with my phone."

"Yeah yeah. Don't get your panties in a twist."

"Fuck you. I wear boxers."

He eyes me with a blush before heading into the back. Might as well chat him up while I can.

"So...Do you know the chicks behind the building?"

"Huh? Oh...Them. Yeah, I know them. What of it?"

"They were talking about you."

"The girls were...Talking about me...?"

Hooked him.

"They mentioned you threw burgers at them and ran."

"Bullshit! That is not what happened."

He comes back to the counter with a glass of frozen dessert and my phone.

"Care to enlighten me?"

He sighs and lights a cigarette. I wonder if he can do that while on shift?

"Never interact with attractive people. Unless you're 'one of them', they're just gonna take advantage of you. Those two chicks asked me to sneak them some Dazzleburgers. And I, the naive teenager that I was, said yes to them. Bad idea."

"What happened?"

He takes a dag and lifts the collar of his uniform shirt open, blowing the smoke in there.

"Does that really keep the smoke from spreading?"

"It's worked so far. *puff* So I went out to the alley to see those two ladies, and uh...you know, see what'd happen next."

"Like...Naughty stuff?"

"...Maybe."

"Nice."

He blushes.

"Anyway...Then my boss comes out of nowhere, sees me, and demands to know what I was doing. I was so startled, the hamburgers in my pockets tumbled out onto the ground. Not wanting to lose face to the girls, I scrambled to pick them up! But, as I was bending down, the weight of the remaining hamburgers...*puff*...caused my pants to fall down."

He expected me to mock him. But I can't feel anything more than pity for the guy. This surprises him and he continues his story.

"Then the girls laughed at me. Everyone calls me Burgerpants now. It's gotten to the point I can't remember my name half of the time. It's even on my name tag for fuck's sake!"

Poor douche cat.

"I think you're the first to not laugh at me or that story."

"Why would I laugh? That's...That's messed up, man."

He takes another drag.

"You know something...I misjudged you, human. I know it ain't much, but, I'm sorry for being an ass."

I rub the back of my head.

"I'll be honest, guy...Since the bar thing, I've seen you only as a prick. The idea of you having hard times and lashing out didn't cross my mind at all. That's my bad right there. Sorry on my part for being a bitch."

He smirks.

"So...You're really not going to tell Mettaton about this?"

He hands me my phone.

"Dude, this stays between us. Besides, he's kinda been pissing me off lately."

"Yeah, he does that."

He takes a deep drag before putting the cigarette out on the bottom of his shoe.

"Can I give you some advice? I'm getting on in years, so take it from me...You've still got time. Don't live like me. I'm 19 years old and I've already wasted my entire life. I'll probably be trapped at this stupid job forever. But wait! There's one thing that keeps me going! If ASGORE gets just one more SOUL, we'll finally get to go to the surface! It'll be a brand new world! There's gotta be a second chance out there for me! For everyone!"

"Maybe. So, what did you want to do before this?"

"Oh...I wanted to be an ACTOR."

"Neat."

"When I first came to Hotland, it was my dream to work with Mettaton. Well, be careful what you wish for! God, look what that idiot has done here. This place is a labyrinth of bad choices. And every time we try to change something for the better, he vetoes it and says that's not how they do it on the surface. Oh! Right! Humans are always eating hamburgers made of RHINESTONES AND GLITTER."

"...I can assure you we don't eat that. Eating that would be very bad for our health. Maybe even fatal. Monsters don't really eat that...Do they?"

His eyes shift and I facepalm.

"And you guys think I'm gonna hurt ya?"

"You should probably get going. The boss will get his gears in a bunch if you take too long getting to the CORE."

"Fine."

I put the Sorebet in my inventory and remember my awkward side-quest.

"Oh! Before I bounce, can you help me with something?"

He tilts his head.

"What?"

"The chicks, Bratty and Catty, they have items I want but don't have the crazy amount of gold. They say they'll trade for a mega value pack. Any way you might be able to help make this trade happen?"

He sighs.

"Really? Do you know how much that is?"

"1300G close? Because that's how much I need."

"...What kind of shit are they selling that's worth that much?!"

I goofily shrug. He groans and rubs his face.

"I can't just give you that much for free."

"Catty thinks your cute."

"...For real?"

I nod. He fidgets, fingers tip-tapping and pitter-pattering.

"Okay, I'll tell you what...You score me a hook up with her and I'll give you the burgers."

Damn you rule of three in side-quests!

"Argh...I guess I can try. It won't be the weirdest thing I do today but it is on the list though."

His eyes light up with excitement. I can't mess this up now. How often does he actually smile like this?

"Thank you! *ahem* I mean...Cool."

I slink out of the emporium and head for the exit.

"Um, excuse me, human...The CORE is the other way."

I groan.

"I know. I'll be back."

Exit building, go into the creepy alley, and meet the girls again.

"Look who's back."

"Do you have the Dazzleburgers?"

I show my empty hands.

"Ha! I knew she'd blow it."

"Sucks to be you!"

"Hold up. He'll give me the goods. But..."

"But...?"

"Catty...Do you really think he's cute? 'Cause he thinks you're hot."

Catty's face flushes. Bratty rolls her eyes.

"For reals? He wants a date?"

"A date? A hangout? A simple meeting while he's working? I don't know. For all I know she can walk in, say hi, and that's it. All I need is confirmation and you get all those shiny burgers."

"Yes!"

"Catty...?"

"What a deal! A cute guy and free food! It's the score of a lifetime!"

"Catty, he's a loser. You hang out with him once, then he wants to hang out... All. The. Time."

"But don't you feel bad for him, Bratty? Poor Burgerpants...Think about how cool we are compared to him!!! We'd be saving his LIFE with our awesomeness!! His LIFE, Bratty!!"

"Uh, so?"

"Think of all the Dazzleburgers he could get for us!!"

And just like that, I feel like shit for doing this.

"...So is he free after work?"

"*huff* I'll be back...again."

Leave the alley, enter the building, meet up with Burgerpants.

"I don't like the look you have there. Did she say no?"

I can't lie to this guy.

"Dude, I'm really uncomfortable with this."

"What's wrong?"

"She said yes. But..."

"She said YES?!"

"I mean, she agreed, but please listen..."

"Ha! Ahahaha!! Yes!!! You've brought a tear to the eye of this old man."

I feel so bad.

"Dude, please...I'm, like, 100% sure she's gonna use you for free food and maybe gold."

"...So?"

I'm taken back.

"Look, you don't think I didn't think of that? I know she's probably going to use me. Everyone does. If it's for the food, I don't care. That's just another way I can stick it to my boss. Speaking of..."

He plops this cardboard case down on the counter.

"A deal's a deal. The mega value pack for the girl."

...Okay, they're made for each other. Everyone here is trash!

"So, uh, what time did she say she wanted to hang out?"

I hate everything about this!!

"I'll be back again."

Take food, leave, exit, alley. At this point, I nearly shove the shit at them.

"Oh my God!"

"Is that the mega value pack Dazzleburgers?"

"OH MY GOD!!! GIMME!!!"

"God, Catty. Try to have some self-control."

"Sorry..."

"'Cause they OBVIOUSLY brought the Dazzleburgers for ME."

"NO WAYYY!!!!!"

I point to the items.

"Trade. Now."

Bratty puts the key and gun into the hat before handing it over to me.

"Thank you."

I put the key in my inventory and equip the other two.

[You equipped the Tattered Western Hat]

[You gain 12 Defense and 5 Attack]

[This battle-worn hat makes you want to crew on straw for some reason. It also raises attack by 5.]

[You equipped the Rusty Revolver]

[You gain 12 Attack]

[An super old gun. It has no ammo. Must be used precisely, or damage will be low. Duh.]

[HP: 40 ATK: 62 DEF: 50]

I am becoming OP!!

"Oh! Give burger-boy this!"

Catty hands me a scrap of paper with her number.

"Fine. I'm just glad this is done."

Back to Burgerpants. I slap the paper down.

"Here's her number. I hope you don't regret this."

His face contorts in a weird way...Is he...Happy?

Sweet! I need to pick a spicy outfit for my little shindig later. Though, now that I think about it, I had to throw away all of my clothes to make room for the outfits Mettaton gave me."

"...What?"

"Don't take it the wrong way. They're just all these...Weird getups. 'Promotional' costumes. For 'holidays'. Or 'specials'. Or 'because he felt like it'. The thing IS though! Most of the time I'm the only employee who has to wear this stuff! Sometimes he even calls me into his office just to...Make me put something on...Then he laughs and lets me go back to work as normal."

My pity meter is breaking.

"Anyways, I won't sweat it. I'll take it casual. NEVER let hot people think you care. That's how they GET you."

And the pity meter dropped dead.

"Good luck with that."

I leave on that note. Fuck this resort. Fuck this quest plot. Fuck this whole damn thing!

Wanting this shit show to be over and done with, I do as instructed by following the rug's path out some doors that have a giant sign above that says "CORE". Lazy-ass designers, I swear.

Weirdly this leads to a balcony. A balcony that has been opened and a walkway built that connects to the massive facility. The light from the resort barely shows half of the path as the CORE itself surprisingly gives off the faintest glow. The CORE is an entirely mechanical complex that is largely black and yellow with red accents. The blah colors aside, what gets my attention are the two monsters that were minding the entrance that slip inside when I show up. I don't like this.

"Flowey, you better be able to get here. I have a bad feeling about this."

Approaching shows more of this crazy thing. The CORE appears to be the most industrial and modern region of the Underground. Ozone, a byproduct of electrical power, is omnipresent below the floor level of the CORE. This could mean the CORE might be made of stainless steel, titanium, or platinum; as ozone is highly corrosive to most organic materials. If this is the case, they could use this stuff. The CORE could be a source of ozonated water, which cleans clothes, sanitizes food, and purifies drinking water. This also implies this might be the greatest source of oxygen in the Underground as ozone simply decomposes into oxygen at high concentrations and temperatures. The only hazard I can think of is that oxygen is a shitty thing to breathe. Breathing pure oxygen at high pressures can cause nausea, dizziness, muscle twitching, vision loss, convulsions, and loss of consciousness. Breathing pure oxygen for a long time can irritate the lungs causing coughing and/or shortness of breath. Higher exposure may cause a build-up of fluid in the lungs and subsequent death. Guess how much more O2 is needed to do this to a person? 20% more. God, Humans are so freaking weak. I'll need to be careful here.

The lobby of the CORE has an elevator to the north and two paths to the left and right. Not a bad looking place, very lavishly decorated, the floors are engraved with intricate patterns and multicolored neon tubes serve as wall ornaments and embellishments. I check the elevator, which is disabled, I'm not shocked at this point. Not much else to do, I go to the path on the right, which turns out to be a small room with a square platform overlooking a pit of fire. Not bad. I do enjoy looking at fire. It's pretty. Moving on! Going through the left path leads to a rectangular stretch of wall-less hallway with a doorway at the end.

"Hmmm...My bullshit senses are tingling. I'm willing to bet a random encounter/ambush is about to happen."

As if cued by my words, something cracks the back of my head and then hits my gut as I turn.

"*wheeze* Called it..."

My attacker appears and my dull cracked purple soul is forced out to play.

[Madjick pops out of its hat!]

Madjick has a typical appearance of a wizard. It wears a curved wizard hat, a pair of boots, and two rotating orbs emitting cross-shaped particles. Madjick has a sly smile on its face, but a pair of bright eyes are hidden just under its hat.

[FIGHT]

[ACT]

[̴͝SP͜͞E͡L̵͜L͟͠͏]͘͢

[ITEM]

[MERCY]

I wonder if SPELL will work on this thing? ...N-No. No. Can't chance it. Stick to normal tactics.

[ACT selected.]

[New options available.]

[CHECK]

[TALK]

[STARE]

[CLEAR MIND]

...The fuck kind of options are these?!

[CHECK selected.]

[MADJICK – HP: 190 ATK: 29 DEF: 24 – This enemy can only speak in magic words.]

Finally! My states aren't shit compared to my attacker. Also, only speaks in magic words is the most fucking adorable thing I've ever heard.

"Abra cadabra."

An orb spawns off to my left and rapid-fires crosses at me. I dodge and the orb tries to cut me off by going where I'm headed. It fires about eight times and moving around is not so great.

[HP ████████████████ 16/40]

Thank goodness my defense got increased during all this crap. I could've been really messed up.

[Madjick flaunts its orbs in a menacing manner.]

It snickers.

"A smug one. I like that."

[TALK selected.]

"You know...I can do magic too."

It looks at me intrigued.

"Yep. I can make your smile disappear."

It pauses before sneering at me.

"See? I made it vanish before your very eyes!"

It didn't seem to like my humor.

"Hocus pocus."

[Madjick begins chattering to itself. Its gibberish dizzies you...Your DEFENSE drops by 1.]

My head feels fuzzy. Did it just jinx me? Are there more types of magic than what I've been told?

One of the orbs begins to chase me while deploying harmful but immobile crosses. Yet due to the jinx, my sense of direction is ass-backward. Left is right and right is left. Up is down and down is up. However...much to Madjick's dismay...I'm used to being incredibly dizzy. My childhood was filled with countless hours of boredom appeased by spinning around till I couldn't see straight.

[HP ████████████████████ 20/40]

Ha ha...Suck on those magic balls, wizard-boy!

"*slur* Is that what you call magic? Boo! Disappointed!"

[Madjick whispers arcane swear words.]

"*slur* Oh...Someone needs to put some gold in the swear jar. I'm gonna tattle!"

It growls.

"Eh eh eh. It's not your turn."

I slap my face a few times.

[CLEAR MIND selected.]

"I wonder where Flowey is?"

[You think of pollen and sunshine. Your confusion abates. Your DEFENSE increased by 2.]

"...What?"

"Alakazam!!"

It tries to surprise me with that following orb trick. But now that I know that move it's not so bad.

[HP ██████████████████████████ 26/40]

Huh? Am I auto-healing faster? Sweet! Surely that only means good things for me.

[Madjick peers at you with strange eyes.]

"What? You scared? My sick moves and auto-healing too much for you? No worries, wizard-dude, we cool. I got you."

The hell did I just say? Am I magic high? Fuck it.

[MERCY selected.]

[New options available.]

[FLEE]

[SPARE]

[SPARE selected.]

It looks at me funny. Then it looks at my HP.

[HP ████████████████████████████████ 32/40]

It flinches.

"Please and thank you."

Madjick accepts my act of mercy.

[YOU WON!]

[You earned 0 XP and 120 gold.]

The fight ends, my soul returns to my body and I give my opponent claps of approval.

"Good show, buddy. Keep up the good work."

It seems confused but nods, hovering away behind me towards the exit.

"Well...That was weird."

My head still feels odd. Nothing a few brain sloshing shakes of the old noggin won't fix. Anyway, no time to question strange feelings or whatever. I gotta get through this so I can get back to Toriel. Onwards I go.

Continuing forward, I enter a room with a bridge that is cut off by a tesla coil. Wow. Hadn't seen that in a long ass time. How much do I wanna bet there's a convenient off switch nearby. Oh, look! A super obvious switch right there on the wall. Who could've ever had guessed! I flip the switch and lasers fire at me! First blue, then blue again, and orange. Thankfully they're slow, so once I triggered the first blue laser I easily hit the deck to avoid the others that pass by.

"Setting booby traps on top of other traps now. Geez, Metta, I'm starting to think you don't like me very much. Well, that's fine. I don't like me either! So come at me already and quit this pussy bullshit!"

Calm down. No need to get riled up. Get through this and go home. Then I can just stuff my face with Nanny's awesome cheesecake and pass out happy. I march on, doing my best not to look down or notice how some of the walls and floors are chipped away. Now I'm paranoid about if any other laser that turns up is functional or decorative.

The path leads into a crossroads with a path to my left and a path straight ahead. My bullshit sense is tingling when I look at the left path. Straight ahead it is.

This room contains a bridge with many blue and orange lasers followed by a massive wall of blue lasers.

"Nope. Just nope. Screw the rules! I have plot armor importance and common sense!"

Fuck this outfit. Fuck this shit! I have lost all my fucks! I get down on the floor and combat crawl the long as fuck cold metal catwalk.

"*muttering* Stupid bullshit. Why do I have to be nice? If I wasn't nice, I wouldn't have to put up with shit like this. Bitches don't end up in laser catwalk traps. But no...I have to be a decent person. *getting louder* I have to be a good girl. I have to not give in to the overwhelming urge to punch assholes for being assholes because that's wrong for dumb reasons! *shouting* Why am I pissing myself off?! This is extremely counterproductive given my current situation! Fuck!!"

I blame all this on Mettaton. That's a healthy way to look at it. Probably not. But I'm not a mental health doctor! The fuck do I know?! After crossing the bridge, I storm grumpily along another walkway only to reach something called "Core Branch".

Turns out the "Core Branch" is a four-way intersection. Fan-fucking-tastic. Man, my mood is fucking sour. Maybe the digital sign can be useful and give me directions.

[North, the warrior's path. West, the sage's path. Any path leads to The End.]

"*growling* This is so...FUCKING STUPID!!"

Nope. Not falling for anymore of this. I choose neither side and go straight. This middle path of the "Core Branch" has me entering a vertical room with a right path leading to the eastern portion of the "Core Branch". There's nothing to my left. It just drops into the ozone, so it's certain death. I'm so sure this place followed all safety measures. There is a sign on the wall that is telling me to "Get lost...And stay that way".

"Wha...Why have signs telling me to leave when you told me to come here?! Stupid metal moron giving me dumb mixed messages."

I hate everything. No monster better encounter me while I'm in this mood. I take out a gold piece and flip it. Heads for straight and tails for the right. It lands on tails so right I go. This has to be the stupidest designed building ever! What the hell was Gaster thinking?! Was he on the drugs? Because this seems like he was on the drugs! 'Cause now I'm at another four-way crossroads. Only now I have two digital signs.

[To the East! This is The End.]

[I cannot fight. I cannot think. But, with patience, I will make my way through.]

A third, and hopefully final, tesla coil blocks what has been established as the exit. This means there's a switch somewhere. F that shit. Know what? You know what'll piss everyone off? I'm gonna do what that sign said. I'm going to be patient. Because if I know Mettaton, and I know massive egos very well, he won't want boring content to be televised and eventually spice things up. I plop my edgy tush under the sign and...wait. Using this time to chill. Let this negativity go and...

*Clank-clank-clank*

Oh hell no!

A large monster ominously approaches. Knight Knight is a monster that wields a great staff with a sun symbol in her right hand. She wears a suit of black armor and what resembles a horned helmet with a crescent moon emblazoned on her forehead. The helmet's eyepiece occasionally widens and un-widens as if it is her mouth. Her torso is dominated by a dragon face whose beak occasionally opens and closes, revealing a small eye. It is unclear whether which face is the true face.

"Let me guess...You're here to make me move?"

"Yes."

"No."

She's confused.

"...No?"

"Did I stutter? I'm not moving."

She readies her spear.

"Then prepare for..."

"Let me stop you right there. I get that you're doing your job and following the law, and blah blah blee bloo, whatever. I have been through one of THE worst days in my life. My mind, soul, and charitable goodwill have been pushed to limits that are very VERY thin now. I am in no mood to deal with any more crap. So I'm going to say this once because I ain't fighting you or moving from this spot till this electrical blockaded is gone...Turn around and go home."

She doesn't take me seriously and laughs.

"Heh heh...You have no power to give me orders, human."

She takes a step closer and I snap.

"I͏͟ ̧̀̕W͝IL͘͡L̴ ̶Ŗ͟͜I͝҉P͘ ̵O͜F̧F̛͞ ̸̀Y̧͡O̡͢U̡͠R ͠H̸EA̶͏D͏͢ ̸̕A͜N͢D S̢̛͜Ḩ̶Į͢T̵̕ ͝D̶̀OW͞N̷̴͠ ҉͞Ý̸̢O̡͡U̡͢R ̸ŅE̴͝CḰ̡̧!͞͞!̧͢"

She stumbles back in shock. The strange energy sparks off me. I regret everything.

"I̵'͘͟͏ḿ͢͞ ̧̕͞so̧̨͡r̴̢ŗ̷͜y̧.̵̛.̢͞.̛p̢l͝ea̷se͢.͟.́͢.leave me. I'm so sorry."

I seem to have disturbed her. She slowly steps back and turns around when she's convinced I'm not going to move.

"Adieu...Human."

She leaves me and I let out a shaky exhale. It's getting worse. I'm losing control. I can't do this for much longer. I haven't been given any proper time to deal with this shit. My internal bottle has been shaken too much! It's going to explode! I...I...

"What the heck was that?!"

Flowey pops up beside me and I'm too freaked out to be startled.

"Sis? What's wrong?"

I hold myself in an attempt to squeeze into a tiny ball of self-loathing. This only worries him more.

"Lynsie?"

I...I can't...I need a break. If only I had my music. I could drown out all this. Lose myself in the lyrics.

"B-Bro..."

"Yes? Talk to me. I can help. Tell me what you need."

"...H-How fast can you get to Snowdin?"

He frowns.

"You want me to get 'him', don't you?"

All I can do is nod.

"I...I can help too. You don't have to turn to him."

My eyes dart to the blocked path. He puts things together. He is a smart boy after all.

"True. Mettaton is that way and the room his encounter takes place in is an elevating platform. I can stretch from my roots pretty far but not THAT far."

He pouts.

"*huff* I guess there's no other option. He does have experience helping you out when things get bad. And he can teleport."

I feel bad that I'm making him do this...again. Like in the dead timeline.

"I...I'm sorry."

"Wha...N-No! Don't apologize. I understand. You're worried. It's okay. We'll get through this. Family helps family. What kind of big brother would I be if I didn't do everything to help? Even if that means getting others to help when I can't."

"...I need a hug...please?"

It pains me to see him hesitate. But vines come out to wrap around me for a bit.

"Thank you."

The vines retract and he extends to nuzzle my cheek.

"It won't be like last time. I promise. You won't kill anyone. No one's going to die."

"H-How do you know?"

"Because you're strong. You just have to believe in yourself. I know I do."

...I needed that. I give him a smile.

"There we go. There's my sis. Now keep that smile. I'll get Smiley Trashbag and we'll be back home with mom in no time."

He really is too sweet for this world. He sinks into the floor and I forgot to ask how he was able to get through this floor. I mean, I guess he said he can get through cement so metal can't be too far of a long shot. Asriel sure is a super strong boy even as a flower.

*BUZZ*

The power to the coil suddenly is shut off remotely like I so knew it could be. Damn it. I was hoping to have more time. How impatient is Mettaton for this? Reluctantly, I get up and walk down this new road. Halfway along this bridge, I am blocked by three vaguely familiar monsters that look like tougher versions of monsters I see in the Ruins.

Final Froggit has spike-like protrusions on its head and eyelids, accompanied by a crown-like muff on top of its head. Its lips are marked with lines, as though wrinkled from age. Its "shoulders" are decorated with sharp excrescents, while the silhouette between its legs forms a face with a triangular smile and cross eyes.

Whimsalot has a more human-like appearance than Whimsun. Also, its antennae are thicker, and there is a muff on their head that branches in two. Whimsalot's appearance is also accompanied by a double-bladed spear and a knight mask. Its ghost-like torso is skinnier and shorter.

Astigmatism's body consists of a large ball and four spiked limbs. The ball is accompanied by two "horns" on each side. When idle, a large eye can be seen on the ball also with three eyelashes. However, it changes from this face to another where the eye hollow is changed with a smile. When having its eye closed, the two side eyelashes become Astigmatism's eyes, while the middle one simply becomes a marking.

I don't know what I must look like to them. Probably dreadful. Because they move aside with not a word being side. I nod in thanks, proceeding to the end which for all I know might be the most tragic moment of my life second to Grillby dying. No! Stop it! Do as Flowey said. Smile. Stay chipper. Think of something silly. Like how dumb this place is. Honestly, was Gaster high making this place? I'll have to ask him later. Nah...I'll ask Sans. Less hassle.

The bridge comes to an end, leading to a shadowy doorway and an elevator that probably would've been super handy but was out of order to pad out the length of this bullshit subplot. Augh...It's so much easier to think my life is a fictional story or internet abridge series. It's the only way my brain allows most of this crap to make any sense.

"So this is it, huh? The epic conclusion of this grand show. Heh...I want to feel accomplished for making it this far. Almost. But all I do feel is..."

I can't finish my sentence. The weight I thought I got off my back earlier begins pressing on me again.

"Nothing...I feel nothing. *sniffling* Damn it...Don't fucking cry!"

With a breakdown seconds away from happening, I enter the doorway to the room of darkness and a door shuts behind me then locks. There is no going back now.

Please...I made a promise...Please...Don't make me have to RESET...Please...I'm begging...Please...

#undertale #underfell #Anomaly #Lynsie #sans #papyrus #gaster #grillby #grandpa semi #flowey #Asriel #toriel #asgore #frisk #chara #undyne #mettaton #napstablook #alphys

[clumsyclifford]

hello bella i would like to ask you about future hearts, not in chronological order, and stories for monday -hazel

WAIT i pressed send too early i also wanted to throw a curveball and ask about the newsies original broadway cast recording :) -hazel

yeesh you picked some good ones hazel. okay. i'm gonna put a cut because four albums is a Lot.

send me albums!

future hearts - all time low

the first song from this album I heard: uhhhhhhh i don't remember, but i......hesitantly......say.......cinderblock garden. but i have no idea why i say that. no i don't really know at all.

do I own the album?: nope

my favorite song: don't you go but also if we're counting b-sides which we should be then how the story ends. and........edge of tonight. and runaways. i know that's a lot of songs i don't care.

my least favorite song: satellite i like it but it's unremarkable compared to the rest of the album and the structure of it is just a little weird to me

a song I didn’t like at first, but now do: there were two future hearts songs that for some inexplicable reason didn't download when i bought the album on itunes back in like 2015 when i used itunes and this album came out so i just didnt know they existed for several months, and those songs were bail me out and edge of tonight. this isnt really relevant since i love both of those songs but i just wanted to share. i guess...i think runaways has grown on me. honestly i think thats a result of including it in baby driver fic, lmao

a song I used to like, but now don’t: well i used to LOVE cinderblock garden and now as you can see i don't list it among my favorites. and the same with dancing with a wolf. and for that matter, also satellite lol

my favorite lyric: another impossible question <3 this doesnt really count but the line in tidal waves "say i'm your filthy little, filthy little-" always makes me smile bc when i was younger and my older sister and i would listen to that song whenever we got to that part we'd both yell WHORE at the top of our lungs. and in fact i still do. real talk though, i think the bridge of missing you might be my favorite lyric in here. "grit your teeth, pull your hair, paint the walls black, and scream 'FUCK the world 'cause it's my life, i'm gonna take it back' and never for a second blame yourself" yeah thats the GOOD shit. WAIT I LIE I HAVE ANOTHER ONE: "beautiful scars on critical veins" (mmm and also "roll like thunder, burn like stars") from kids in the dark. mmmm. and all of edge of tonight. man this album has some gooooooood gaskarth lines.

overall rating out of 10: honestly? 10/10. even with satellite. this is such a good fucking album i constantly underrate it but i love it so much it can do no wrong

not in chronological order - julia michaels (this one is gonna be trickier because i haven't listened to the whole album that many times but i'm gonna put it on while i answer the rest of these so hopefully i can have some real opinions here)

the first song from this album I heard: it would've been lie like this i think, because that song was out before any of the other singles

do I own the album?: nope :)

my favorite song: that's the kind of woman, pessimist, lie like this, all your exes. i really LOVE about half this album and the other half i just don't really know well enough

my least favorite song: orange magic just Does Not do it for me. idk man

a song I didn’t like at first, but now do: well i'm very much still working on familiarizing myself with these songs so i might still be in the phase of "didn't like at first" (betcha anything orange magic will grow on me lmao). there aren't any songs that i've changed my opinion on at least not yet

a song I used to like, but now don’t: see previous answer lol

my favorite lyric: "i love myself, but i'd love her more; that's the kind of woman i'd leave me for" from that's the kind of woman (that shit HITS), also "i'll stop checking horoscopes to cope with all my misery" and "you took a pessimist and turned me into something else" from pessimist because it gives me a lot of hope. and "it was you before i ever decided" from little did i know because :') romance

overall rating out of 10: 8/10 miss michaels KNOWS an album. this would probably be higher if not for orange magic lmao

stories for monday - the summer set

the first song from this album I heard: according to my spotify, all my friends! the first time i listened to this album was on shuffle while writing a prompt fic that was entirely unrelated. i know, it's appalling.

do I own the album?: no <3

my favorite song: MMMNNGNHHGJ i think. i think it's figure me out. and missin' you. yeah. those two

my least favorite song: honest to god i want to say all downhill from here but the little bass riff at the end of that song basically forbids me from saying that. so i'm gonna say change your mind instead. it's the vibiest but thats not why we COME to stories for monday now is it

a song I didn’t like at first, but now do: don't know, maybe all in? i can't remember ever not liking one of these songs tbh. ironically maybe the answer to this is change your mind lol

a song I used to like, but now don’t: well i listened to all my friends about five million times when i wrote that fic based on it so it's in the same situation as i think he knows now. i need a little bit of an all my friends break.

my favorite lyric: bro this is literally an impossible fuckign QUESTION!! the entirety of figure me out. "i'm a bit too punk for the pop kids, but i'm too pop for the punk kids" and "i believe there's more to life than all my problems" both are really close to my heart. the bridge of all in about it being 4am in the parking lot we'll be singing blink songs til the sun comes up, that too. wait wait okay and also: "forever nineteen somehow" from jean jacket and "growing up can make you stupid, why is everyone so scared?" from wasted. okay okay i'm done i'm done

overall rating out of 10: fucking 11/10 bro this is in my top 10 albums ever i'm pretty sure

newsies - original broadway cast recording

the first song from this album I heard: no fuckin idea. it must have been the overture because i never listened to the cast recording before watching the bootleg so!

do I own the album?: i do not

my favorite song: mmm i. LOVE once and for all. but i also love watch what happens reprise. and brooklyn's here. and carrying the banner. ugh fuck i love so many of these songs.

my least favorite song: the bottom line reprise lmfao easy

a song I didn’t like at first, but now do: i don't know, i guess i like the bottom line a LITTLE more than i used to but it's a very low bar. wait actually, the overture. i have a much greater appreciation for an overture than i used to.

a song I used to like, but now don’t: i honestly can't think of one. maybe similar effect to something to believe in? i like it SLIGHTLY less but i still really like it so?

my favorite lyric: EASY answer, this lyric is among my favorites in all of musical theatre, i had it written on my mirror for a long time in high school. this part from seize the day: "behold the brave battalion that stands side by side / too few in number and too proud to hide / then say to the others who did not follow through / 'you're still our brothers, and we will fight for you'"

overall rating out of 10: 9/10. fucking banger of an album. i always say this is the best cast recording for a car ride and i stand by that

#ask #anonymous #hazel #allsassnoclass #i have not listened to newsies recently enough #or enough at all #what a great score #and i love that lyric from seize the day i really really like that it talks about how we fight for everyone not just-- #--the people who were brave enough to step up #we fight for the cowards too #it just. yeah. #newsies has one of the best scores #as well as bandstand falsettos and gypsy #the former three are my favorite musicals so there's a slight bias there #but gypsy is just. objectively so fun #and so good #i regularly quote that musical lol #in case anyone was wondering the other lyric that i always cite as my favorite in musical theatre is #'what matters when things happen is what happens after' #from everything happens from bandstand #anyway #great questions hazel thank you #damn guys not in chronological order is a really GOOD fuckin album. aside from orange magic this album really hits

[longsightmyth]

Aaaaaaaaaand here’s what I’ve got so far for the current readthrough of ToD for fragments etc. Sharp eyes will note that it has taken me over a year and I still haven’t finished the reread. It’s just very bad, okay? Cut for dash mercy.

June 21, 2018 – page 4 

 0.61% "Apparently the problem with Adarlan conquering everything was not the conquering, but the fact that they had an evil dictator in charge.

I mean, in fairness, the evil dictator probably didn't HELP, but in the kind of person who considers conquering a symptom of BEING an evil dictator, so?"

June 21, 2018 – page 15 

 2.27% ""That Sartaq was here... they had to have known, then. Well in advance. That she and Chaol were coming."

That reads like I hit the space bar on my iPhone a couple too many times but I swear to you that is exactly how it's written in the book. I have changed NOTHING."

June 21, 2018 – page 16 

 2.42% "I'm also still confused about why the captain of the royal guard was sent as an ambassador instead of staying to administer the royal guard."

June 27, 2018 – page 19 

 2.88% "There are so many fragments, y'all. So many."

June 27, 2018 – page 27 

 4.09% "For once the angst feels earned here (we know that Nesryn cares and works for the wellbeing of Rifthold and her family and we've seen it). Do I wish there were fewer Drama Fragments? Yes. Still, I'm glad we got this bit from Nesryn's PoV and for once it wasn't All About Celaena OR A Boy."

June 28, 2018 – page 30 

 4.55% ""My Tumelun. The words told enough about the prince's closeness with his sister."

First of all, OBVIOUSLY. Second, there really is a way to say this as if Chaol is thinking it and not as if you are explaining to the reader. For instance:

"My Tumelun. They had been close, then."

BOOM."

June 28, 2018 – page 30 

 4.55% "I've harped on this before, and while it's permissible for Kashin in his grief and/or naïveté to have blind spots ("no one within our lands would be stupid enough [to murder Tumelun]") Chaol has no such excuse and neither does the narrative."

June 28, 2018 – page 31 

 4.7% ""...Aelin had hard lines that she did not cross. Killing or harming children was one of them."

Let me refer you to that time in Heir of Fire where she threatened to burn an entire city's population alive and we were from her PoV so we know she meant it and she SAID IT WITH A SMILE."

June 28, 2018 – page 31 

 4.7% "Also that time she threatened to burn up the population of Rifthold."

June 28, 2018 – page 31 

 4.7% "Oh yeah also that manor house she said she'd kill the entire population of if even a tiny word got out about her presence or previous presence there. That place had kids too. I'm pretty sure we saw and/or heard them playing in the yard."

June 28, 2018 – page 31 

 4.7% "Just because she hasn't threatened or hurt a SPECIFIC CHILD for SPECIFIC REASONS does not mean that she doesn't harm or (in fairness threaten to) murder children. That's just three examples off the top of my head."

June 28, 2018 – page 33 

 5.0% ""Had not even considered that the shadow of Morath might have already stretched this far."

Chaol, per Queen of Shadows the Valg, whose stated intentions are to destroy the world and rule the ruins, have been out and plotting since BEFORE YOU WERE BORN. You're an idiot if you didn't consider them using over twenty years of time to, oh, WORK TOWARDS DESTROYING THE WHOLE WORLD AND RULING THE RUINS."

June 28, 2018 – page 33 

 5.0% "Then again the series never considered that before this point either so maybe I should cut Chaol some slack?"

June 28, 2018 – page 35 

 5.3% "This reads like a dude wrote it, and not a dude who thinks women are actual people."

July 9, 2018 – page 37 

 5.61% ""Until an unknown healer's daughter from Fenharrow [who had only been training for two years] was approached by healers old and young, who had trained their entire lives, for her advice and assistance."

Look."

July 9, 2018 – page 37 

 5.61% "If this was portrayed as 'they needed somebody with a hella lot of magic and guided her through things' that would be one thing, but are you telling me this chick is in her second year at the magical equivalent of medical school and all of the surgeons are coming to her for surgery advice?"

July 9, 2018 – page 37 

 5.61% "I think I commented on this last time but still:

"There were two such vials on the desk now, clear orbs atop silver feet fashioned after ibis legs. Being purified by the endless sunshine within the tower."

You'd think I made a mistake typing with my phone, right? Hit the space bar twice maybe and added an accidental period?

I did not. That's a direct quote from the book."

July 9, 2018 – page 44 

 6.67% "Are Renia and Hassar married or not, please make up your mind, book. Here Renia is referred to as Hassar's lover but I think later on it says wife without any marriage happening in between so like."

July 24, 2018 – page 53 

 8.03% ""Chaol had barely slept.

Partially due to the unrelenting heat, partially due to the fact that they were in a tentative ally's fraught household, full of potential spies and unknown dangers- perhaps even from Morath itself - and partially due to what had befallen Rifthold and all he held dear.

And partially due to the meeting that he was now minutes away from having.""

July 24, 2018 – page 53 

 8.03% "This is what happens when you rush books, don't listen to your editor, and use second drafts at best."

July 24, 2018 – page 53 

 8.03% ""Chaol barely slept that night. It could have been the unrelenting heat, it could have been the spies and unknown dangers of the house - or of Morath. It could have been the news of Rifthold, and the lack of news that followed. It could have been all of it.

Part of it was definitely the anxiety over the meeting that had yet to begin."

**jazz hands**"

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% ""They'd asked him about the butchering of the slaves in Calaculla and Endovier at dinner.

Or the oily one, Arghun, did. Had the prince been among Chaol's new recruits to the royal guard, he would have easily gotten him to fall in line thanks to a few well-timed shows of skill and sheer dominance. But here, he had no authority to bring the conniving, haughty prince to heel.

Not even when Arghun wanted to know...""

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% ""...why the former King of Adarlan had deemed it necessary to enslave his people. And then put them down like animals. Why the man had not looked to the southern continent for education on the horrors of the stain of slavery - and avoided instituting it.

Chaol had to offer curt answers on the verge of being impolite. Sartaq, the only one of them beyond Kashin whom Chaol was inclined to like, had finally tired..."

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% ""...of his older brother's questioning and steered the conversation away."

Holy mackerel is there a lot to unpack there, but first of all: Arghun for president, y'all.

Second, king is improperly capitalized there. Have fun with that.

Third, why is Arghun the oily conniving one for being like 'yo why the hell did y'all keep slaves?'"

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% "Fourth, it might be poor diplomacy on a technical level, but honestly Arghun and the SC contingent have all the power here. They don't have to worry about being polite, because what are Chaol and Nesryn going to do, leave? (they probably wish they would)"

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% "Fifth, Chaol, suck it up. You participated in and helped to continue a regime that not only practiced slavery but encouraged it. I have no sympathy for your hurt feelings about being called on it. Aren't you supposed to be anti-slavery? Shouldn't you be going 'look man it sucked and was wrong. I know that. You know that. The new king has ended the practice even if he apparently hasn't considered reparations.'"

July 24, 2018 – page 54 

 8.18% "But no, Arghun is the one in the wrong here apparently?"

July 25, 2018 – page 57 

 8.64% "I'd forgotten Yrene's 'honey-colored' hands."

July 25, 2018 – page 66 

 10.0% "Still unsure why a medical professional won't just say the word penis."

July 25, 2018 – page 70 

 10.61% "Okay I got one mention of male healers existing. Apparently it's almost exclusively a female gift. Why? Who knows. Not the book.

Nothing mentioned about any cultural stuff surrounding it either."

July 25, 2018 – page 71 

 10.76% "I'm starting to wonder if the author just hasn't realized how self-aggrandizing things sound when written in third person limited or first person?"

August 26, 2018 – page 82 

 12.42%

August 27, 2018 – page 86 

 13.03% "Sure of course it's a weakness to care where the only other member of your diplomatic envoy is and if she's gone missing. Of course. It's obviously not just common sense or competence. Why are the 'politics' in these books such nonsense."

August 27, 2018 – page 87 

 13.18% "Other people have commented on this, but if everyone here is human why does the book keep calling everyone males and females."

August 27, 2018 – page 88 

 13.33% ""See how he trips over himself," Arghun muttered over Duva, her husband, and Chaol to say to Sartaq.

 That makes it look like Arghun is a married woman talking over her husband, when I know that Arghun is an unmarried man. You have to specify in this case. Or you could, you know. Name your characters."

August 27, 2018 – page 89 

 13.48% ""Kashin shut his mouth, ever the trained soldier.

And somehow Chaol knew-that fast-that Kashin was not being considered for the throne."

First of all, SOMEHOW? You detail why in the next sentence."

August 27, 2018 – page 89 

 13.48% ""...he seemed decent, though. A better alternative than the sneering, aloof Arghun, or the wolflike Hasar."

Interesting how being wolflike is positive when it's men but negative when it's women.

Also, Arghun for president. He's the spymaster dude who talks to the viziers. Obviously my vote goes to Arghun."

August 27, 2018 – page 91 

 13.79% "I hate how Chaol lecturing Nesryn about coming in late morphs into him patronizing her about how they're fighting to make Adarlan safer for her specifically.

Listen, dickface. She's the one who apparently had ROCKS thrown at her in Adarlan. Let her enjoy walking around safely.

Also I hate that he's lecturing her about coming in late."

August 27, 2018 – page 97 

 14.7% "So. I appreciate that Yrene tries in this one instance to be considerate of Chaol's wants/needs, re: his disability. I appreciate MUCH LESS that it is here specifically in an attempt to contrast Yrene and Nesryn. I wouldn't even be super mad about that except that Yrene is only considerate of Chaol and his wants/needs, re: his disability when Nesryn is around to be contrasted against."

August 27, 2018 – page 97 

 14.7% "It only counts as a character trait if it's consistent, and it isn't. Instead it's used as a way to shame Nesryn, when Yrene does the same and worse to Chaol multiple times but is excused because 'she means well.'"

August 27, 2018 – page 99 

 15.0% "This is SO STUPID she is a healer DOING HER JOB why does it MATTER if she goes into his bedroom?"

August 27, 2018 – page 103 

 15.61% "This is a tiny thing in the grand scheme but "pure as sea-foam" made me laugh because I live in Florida and there is a lot of sea-foam. Almost none of it is 'pure'."

August 27, 2018 – page 109 

 16.52% "I don't care how many times it shows up. I am going to mark The Hand of the King/ The Hand of Adarlan with a red tab labeled ASoIaF EVERY TIME."

September 27, 2018 – page 113 

 17.12% ""You must enter where you fear to tread."

Uh-huh."

September 27, 2018 – page 115 

 17.42% "So while I like the idea of this scene with Yrene and the other healer, the fact remains that it has taken more than 100 pages to show us something that is ostensibly a fundamental part of Yrene's character, and from what I remember we have precious few other scenes of it later."

September 27, 2018 – page 115 

 17.42% "The trait? That Yrene has a drive to help people."

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% ""How many meals had he himself been positioned by the doors, or out in the courtyard, monitoring his king? How many times had he laid into his men for slouching, for chattering amongst themselves, and reassigned them to lesser watches?""

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% "Okay first of all, as THE (singular, only) captain of the royal guard your place is the organizing, hiring, and inspecting of the Royal guard, not the actual guarding except for special occasions, at which point you would be with the king as the visible face of the king's protection."

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% "SECOND. You have never 'laid into' guards for chatting or slouching. You have in fact completely forgiven them for ABANDONING THEIR POSTS WITHOUT NOTICE because somebody else said it was fine. Your response? "Okay just don't do it again.""

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% "I repeat, they abandoned their posts because a general from a conquered land told them it was fine, leaving their king completely open to attack, and you told them 'okay just don't do it again'"

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% "Am I harping on this? ABSOLUTELY. Chaol's inner turmoil loses all emotional punch because he and the narrative are LYING to us. Instead of pulling my heartstrings, it just makes me angry.

This is also why Maas is the queen of the retcon, by the way."

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% ""No sign - none - of any wicked force, whether dispatched from Morath or elsewhere. No sign beyond those white banners to honor their fallen princess."

I had no idea the wicked forces had a fallen princess, single separate two-sentence paragraph.

Also, it should be 'the white banners'"

September 27, 2018 – page 117 

 17.73% ""There was no sign of wickedness, from Morath or elsewhere - no sign but the white banners that honored the fallen princess."

It's not HARD, book."

November 30, 2018 – page 121 

 18.33% ""A summer storm galloped in off the sea just before midnight."

This one might be petty and I freely admit it, but that's kind of a funky way to put that."

February 11, 2019 – page 121 

 18.33% "I'm back!

I'd forgotten how awful the em dashes were. Like, I remembered they were BAD, I'd just forgotten HOW bad."

February 11, 2019 – page 123 

 18.64% "Picturing Kat's face in the section with Yrene and the 10,000+ year old document being touched with bare hands is what keeps me going y'all"

February 11, 2019 – page 127 

 19.24% "For someone ostensibly skeptical, Yrene sure does take every illustration in the book literally instead of even considering the possibility of metaphors or, like. Science."

February 11, 2019 – page 129 

 19.55% "The irony of Yrene being better at situational awareness and planning what around her could be improvised weaponry than Celaena, who ostensibly taught her these things, is not lost on me.

It's lost on the book though."

February 11, 2019 – page 132 

 20.0% "Why does everyone in these books have a capitalized Heir"

February 11, 2019 – page 132 

 20.0% "Also, the Heir Librarian as a title sounds stupid (no that's literally the title, not even Heir to the Librarian or anything)"

February 11, 2019 – page 132 

 20.0% "All it would take was a week observing the library to know it never closes and Bob's your uncle the 'closing toll' of the library bell jig is up.

I'm just saying."

May 4, 2019 – page 144 

 21.82%

July 22, 2019 – page 145 

 21.97% ""Either your lack on consciousness during that initial healing kept you from feeling this sort of pain, or perhaps whatever this is had not... settled."

Or Sarah Janet needed More Drama."

July 22, 2019 – page 146 

 22.12% "I forgot that apparently the valg magic and therefore Chaol's injury persists because it's feeding on his self hate or whatever.

See kids, all you have to do is be happy and believe in yourself and your disability will go away."

July 22, 2019 – page 146 

 22.12% ""It was all he could do not to shrink from that frank gaze."

Why not her frank gaze? Like, it's not grammatically incorrect - the sentence before says she's staring at him, it's referring to a gaze mentioned before - but I don't think it's strong writing."

July 22, 2019 – page 146 

 22.12% "Have Yrene own her frank gaze or have Chaol associate it with her directly instead of disconnecting it. "It was all he could do not to flinch from her frank gaze."

YMMV I guess."

July 22, 2019 – page 147 

 22.27% ""Yrene's face was an unreadable mask that would have given Dorian a run for his money."

Maybe it's my own failing, but Dorian has never been described as expressionless or unreadable in my memory, or at least not enough to stick out."

July 22, 2019 – page 148 

 22.42% ""Since [Nesryn's] hair fell only to her shoulders, he had difficulty braiding it back"

French braids are a thing, even if I'd object to them being called French braids in these books."

July 22, 2019 – page 150 

 22.73% ""A land claimed by a conquering nation, yet loved and nurtured."

Not you too, Nesryn."

July 22, 2019 – page 154 

 23.33% ""There is beauty in my father's lands," the prince went on while Kadara ripped into that monstrous carcass, "but there is much lurking beneath the surface, too."

Sigh.

"There is beauty in my father's lands," the prince went on while Kadara feasted on the monster, "but much lurks beneath the surface, too.""

July 23, 2019 – page 161 

 24.39% "Love how Yrene explicitly says "add lots of honey" but is then judgy because Kadja added too much honey."

July 25, 2019 – page 162 

 24.55% "There's this thing we have where we consider the endurance of pain a virtue, somehow. Even if you agree with that, bad people can still have virtues.

Yrene starts rethinking Chaol's morality because he 'did not break' over the pain when her magic was trying to heal him.

Tldr: pain endurance is not the sole province of good people, and enduring pain doesn't make you good"

July 25, 2019 – page 164 

 24.85% "Why ARE the valg only trying to kill Yrene if she has the same healing gift as other healers?"

July 25, 2019 – page 164 

 24.85% "Okay also my disability is not Chaol's disability etc etc but the narrative is poo-pooing on Nesryn and Kadja for helping him into bed when he's so tired he can barley talk, because Yrene would have made him do it himself.

Like, honestly? That makes Yrene sound an awful lot like somebody who would go 'you're out of spoons? Do it anyway'"

July 25, 2019 – page 166 

 25.15% "Look y'all much as I dislike Yrene on a personal level she isn't WRONG for clearly having 'personal reservations' about Chaol's 'former role in the empire'.

He not only benefitted from but actively worked to keep the aforementioned empire in power. He got FRUSTRATED when the king wouldn't let him guard the king effectively. He wasn't even just some dude off in the hinterlands: HE WAS THE CAPTAIN OF THE ROYAL GUARD."

November 4, 2019 – page 176 

 26.67% "In all seriousness what is Sarah Janet Maas' beef with the word 'the'?"

November 4, 2019 – page 176 

 26.67% "WHITE

FUCKING

HORSES"

November 4, 2019 – page 178 

 26.97% "How does Yrene have a good seat and yet bounce everywhere and keep grabbing the saddle horn"

November 4, 2019 – page 184 

 27.88% "Oh yeah. This part."

November 4, 2019 – page 184 

 27.88% ""The skin was leathery - as warm as her smile."

The one time you use 'the' it's in a place that detaches the reader from a living breathing human's human-ness? HER skin, book. HER skin."

November 4, 2019 – page 186 

 28.18% "The page (well, this and the one before) that made me hate Yrene."

November 17, 2019 – page 187 

 28.33% ""She means well, my Yrene."

That doesn't matter when she literally asked a disabled man to help her with something and when he got there PROCEEDED TO LECTURE AN ENTIRE YARD ON HIS DISABILITY WITHOUT HIS PERMISSION, WHEN HE LITERALLY PHYSICALLY COULD NOT LEAVE.

And to the best of my recollection she never apologizes."

November 17, 2019 – page 187 

 28.33% ""Her instinct is to teach other people" How lovely maybe she could do that without LITERALLY HOLDING A DISABLED MAN THERE AGAINST HIS WILL.

"But Myth, she didn't mean to! She just wasn't thinking"

LITERALLY MY POINT"

November 17, 2019 – page 187 

 28.33% ""But Myth, the author didn't mean to make it like that" Maybe if she'd bothered ASKING a single disabled person instead of watching some youtube videos she might have LEARNED."

November 17, 2019 – page 190 

 28.79% "And look. I applaud people learning how to defend themselves and teaching others. HOWEVER. Chaol has only taught soldiers, and aside from that the idea that one or two sessions allows you to master several self-defense techniques is unlikely at best. It takes time, it takes repetition, and it takes someone who had more than one morning's instruction herself.

Just saying."

January 4, 2020 – Shelved as: assassin-rolls-do-it-better

May 30, 2020 – page 191 

 28.94% "It’s hard to tell with this author what distance we are in the narration. Feyre and Yrene both make snide little comments about people not caring or not doing something (in Yrene’s case, Chaol not smiling at her after her despicable behavior, in Feyre’s case Nesta not getting her a gift). I begin to suspect we aren’t supposed to see this as the character commenting on the event but the narration."

May 30, 2020 – page 191 

 28.94% "UNFORTUNATELY the books are written in close POV’s, Feyre’s in first and Yrene’s and Chaol’s in third. The result is that whatever the narration says is coming from the character.

This is a long way to say that Yrene continues to be terrible."

May 30, 2020 – page 193 

 29.24% "I don’t have enough orange tabs for this"

May 30, 2020 – page 194 

 29.39% "Yrene says here “[until that moment] she hadn’t felt like a barnyard animal” and I am not an expert but that seems like a Bad Thing to have about one of the only black women you haven’t killed off, Book."

May 30, 2020 – page 195 

 29.55% "“Did I do something to you today?”

*squints*"

May 30, 2020 – page 196 

 29.7% "I’m not going to pretend that Nesryn’s reaction here is perfect, but the book is trying to pretend it’s terrible and it’s not? She’s excited that Chaol can ride, she talks to Chaol directly about it, and immediately accepts that he can and says excitedly that maybe they can go see her family together. The initial disbelief might be disconcerting for some people, but she does several things Yrene does not."

May 30, 2020 – page 196 

 29.7% "As I said, she speaks directly to Chaol about his abilities (something Yrene doesn’t do), asks if he wants to do something together (permission is something for OTHER PEOPLE to Yrene, apparently, at least in regards to revealing someone’s medical information and literally moving people without their permission) and is immediately EXCITED that he can do something Chaol has specifically said he missed."

May 30, 2020 – page 196 

 29.7% "For the record these are all low bars to clear, but for all the book tries to contrast Yrene and Nesryn’s reactions to Chaol’s disability and how he works with and around it in Yrene’s favor, NESRYN IS THE ONLY ONE WHO CLEARS THE BARS.

But I’m supposed to be upset that she’s surprised that Chaol rode when he hasn’t been able to lately? Through a city that he’s never been to before? Without telling her?"

May 30, 2020 – page 196 

 29.7% "Not only are these two the only members of an embassy, they are romantically involved. OF COURSE SHE’S SURPRISED ALL OF THIS HAPPENED WITHOUT HER KNOWING ABOUT IT."

May 30, 2020 – page 198 

 30.0% "At least she apologizes FINALLY but also says that it’s because so few people come in with his injury that she wanted to show her students.

So then you ASK, Yrene, what is this bullshit?"

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "“She hadn’t considered - his feelings. That he might have them.”

Excuse me, what?"

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "Yrene is worried that if she leaves the ‘rift’ between her and Chaol will never be repaired because “Healers and their patients required trust. A bond.”

It’s too bad you have repeatedly fucked that up with unprofessional, unthinking, and downright cruel behavior then isn’t it, Yrene?"

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "I’m sure some people reading this statuses will think I’m being too harsh, but let me explain: Yrene is a healer who has dealt with this kind of injury before. That’s why she was textually assigned to Chaol. Yrene is not a family member who knows nothing of medicine or patient treatment and is feeling her way through learning how to respectfully assist someone with a disability."

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "Yrene is a PROFESSIONAL, she keeps telling us. She is The Best. She has dealt with this before.

There is literally no excuse for accidentally doing this. Had Yrene been a new healer tossed into this because she just happens to have magical power enough for it and was still a student, I would buy that she maybe hadn’t had the experience to think about it. If she was portrayed as a consummate professional who..."

May 30, 2020 – page 199 

 30.15% "...did not care about her patients’ feelings so long as she healed their bodies, I would buy it.

She isn’t. The book keeps trying to tell me she is The Best because of temperament and skill and power, but it fails to realize that doing so puts Yrene in a terrible light because all of those things mean she should KNOW BETTER."

#myth rags on throne of glass #myth reads tower of dawn

[chenoehi]

HNY crack theory time (tdlr; if Riku isn’t Sesshomaru or Kirinmaru’s child, could he be Tōga and Zero’s love child?)

While working on a few unrelated posts I started thinking about Riku again. Bastard won’t leave me alone, why do I love him so much. Skip to the bottom if you want to head straight to the crack. ‘Keep Reading’ isn’t working for me on mobile, sorry.

I’ve loved the theory that he’s Kirinmaru’s hanyo son due to coloring, symbolism, imagery, similar mannerisms, etc. Their introduction in the same episode, the English phrase and connection to Osamu Kirin, the grapes, their association with water, Riku’s vendetta against the perils, etc: it’s all too great to ignore but perhaps these connections are being made obvious on purpose to divert us. I have my doubts. I also entertain the theory of him being Zero’s hanyo child because she’s Kirinmaru’s older sister and as such he shares an eye color with her, the presence of eye shadow/markings (which Kirinmaru does not appear to have), some similarities in their dress, the association with the pearls, etc.

These ‘Riku is xyz’s hanyo son’ theories are more likely if we assume he’s a time traveler as we know Kirinmaru and Zero kind of have a thing about humans and half-breeds. Of course, Kyuki and other people know him (and as a Lord no less) so it’s still highly possible he was born prior to the Sengoku period.

Recently I mentioned a possibility of Riku being Kirinmaru and Zero’s hanyo half-brother, making him the HNY equivalent of Inuyasha. I really like that idea personally, especially because it would mirror Sesshomaru and Inuyasha’s relationship. Their family drama has been the underlying backbone of the whole series. It culminated in the perfection of the Meido Zangetsuha, a pretty big deal even still in HNY, and we all know Toga is still causing drama from beyond the grave.

But, a lot of people are convinced that Riku is related to Sesshomaru somehow. 

I’ll be honest, I’m not really sure I see any connections to support these theories as interesting though they may be. I think the biggest point to support this kind of theory is that Riku has a lot of information about Sesshomaru and he seems to have some personal grudge against him, possibly. But everything feels personal at this point. Here’s some reasons:

1. Riku talks about ‘taking care’ of the yashahime’s in a suspicious and threatening way. He points out that he’d like to see Towa perform Sesshomaru’s Azure Dragon Wave and then remarks that it was half-assed. He cozied up to Towa with ulterior motives. He explicitly pointed out (in a very sus moment) that loving humans brought nothing good to Sesshomaru’s father or Sesshomaru himself, and he seems pleased by that statement. Oddly enough, he wanted Homura to burn himself up, which directly prevented Towa and Setsuna from getting answers about why Homura caused the forest fire in the first place. Getting directly involved with finding Izayoi’s shell, even knowing about it in the first place and then knowing where to find it, knowing about the pearl and how to recreate/fix it, and then seeking out Kagome (referring to her by her own merits and not repeating the same line about her being Kikyo’s reincarnation was odd). Waiting around to see what happened when InuKag were sealed. It seems obvious he knew what would happen probably because of time shenanigans and for some reason wanted to help them out.

2. Zero’s tears becoming rainbow pearls, Tōga humiliating her, the comment about Sesshomaru’s mother, her very pointed threat against the twins on the night they’re born, the threat against Inuyasha when he’d already been left alive 200 years, waking Kirinmaru up just to tell him this once Moroha was born, etc. She said it already: she wants the family to suffer.

3. Kirinmaru’s reaction to hearing Sesshomaru had married a human and fathered hanyos seemed personal as well; I think that was overblown on purpose. His whole reaction was curious. Like, why threaten Inuyasha now when you literally just got done stating that he assumed Sesshomaru and Inuyasha could handle the comet? He's been around two centuries bruh, taking your time or what? I know it’s made to look like he’s just then making a move because Zero’s pointing out that a hanyo will kill him but are we expected to believe that he didn’t already think of that already? Riku said Kirinmaru can’t forgive the existence of half-demons so why didn’t Kirinmaru make a move on Inuyasha before? He would have had Sesshomaru’s support surely? (That’s debatable tho tbh; technically Sesshomaru did try to kill Inuyasha for real at their father’s grave, but prior to that we have no idea whether he made any real attempt on his life. He did acknowledge Inuyasha as his ‘little brother’ after all, and he could have easily killed him in at any point during his 50-year sleep). He seemed confident that Sesshomaru would help him kill Inuyasha, but again this could just be what we’re supposed to think.

So, the idea of Riku being related to Sesshomaru is interesting, but barring some kind of illusion or other explanation, I can’t see Riku being his son. Physically they look nothing alike and Riku doesn’t appear to possess any powers related to any demons we know. We’ve only seen him display certain..weird abilities by using the pearl and we don’t yet know how they all work, if each has special abilities or if they all operate in the same manner. I personally wonder if the pearls follow the will of the bearer or grant the bearer’s wishes. Ie. Riku used the pearl to gather water to him, he used it to make boats appear out of no where so he could get out of dodge, and if I remember correctly he used the pearl to create the gold. If the other pearls operate the same, the silver and gold pearls could be protecting the twins because that was Sesshomaru’s wish. Idk if that holds water, honestly who the frick knows what the silver and gold pearls really do at this point besides making their eyes sparkle. They seem to be reacting to something but I haven’t worked it out what that is myself.

Aside from ‘Riku is Sesshomaru’s son’ theories (which I do think are interesting), a crack theory about who else’s son he could be has come to mind. This was the purpose of the post but it got very long. I like writing about Riku, sue me.

Tōga -> Riku

If it seems plausible to some that Riku could be Sesshomaru’s son, either born before the events of the OG series (not that likely given his aversion to humans) or after the events of HNY (reappearing in the Sengoku period bc of time shenanigans), then what’s to say he couldn’t be Tōga’s hanyo son or even a full demon son (if it comes out that he’s using some illusion powers)? We’d already have a candidate for who his mother could be.

Zero said she was humiliated by Tōga. She wants his family to suffer. She shares similarities in appearance with Riku along with her brother Kirinmaru, who could very well pass as his potential father or uncle.

Honestly, I think I’d be satisfied with any of these theories coming true, even this crack one because it would be so juicy can you imagine.

Of course, there is Zero’s line that Tōga was basically responsible for unleashing hanyos unto the world and presumably she meant with Inuyasha. Do we know that he was the first hanyo? That hasn’t been explicitly stated yet. Does it mean that Riku could not have been fathered by Tōga prior to Inuyasha? No, Zero could be leaving him out. Does it still mean he could have been fathered by Sesshomaru after? Sure, if we overlook his ill will toward humans. In that case, it’s really more likely he comes from the future if he’s anyone’s son, but everyone knowing who he is throws a monkey wrench in that.

#yashahime #yashahime princess half demon #princess half demon #hanyo no yashahime #hanyou no yashahime #hanyo #yashahime theory #yashahime spoilers #inu no taisho #toga inuyasha #sesshomaru #inuyasha #kirinmaru #zero yashahime #riku the pirate #Riku yashahime #riku #not bts #anime #toga #zero #hny

[mrsalwayswrite]

The Difference Between Champagne and Rum Part 1 (Alfie Solomons x OFC)

So this was a cute one-shot that came to mind that somehow turned into a mini series. I’ll hopefully have the other parts up soonish (once they are written). 

I want to dedicate this piece to the most lovely @evelynshelby​ for inspiring and encouraging me to write an Alfie piece. (Btw, she has her own incredible stories that you should definitely follow.) This is my first time writing a fanfic piece for Peaky Blinders. I have always been too nervous to attempt it. So let me know if you think I did Alfie justice. 

Summary: A young Alfie prepares himself to spend a night in jail. Next thing he know, he is on the run with a blonde angel by his side. Nothing about this night goes as he expected. 

Warnings: Some violence, swearing and racial slurs. Just the usual in Peaky Blinders. :)

Words: 5k

~The Difference Between Champagne and Rum~

Part 1- Saved by an Angel

1911

He knew it. Everyone knew it. Bless her, even his own mother knew it. No matter what the Rabbi said. Alfie Solomons’ soul was damned. He was sinful and that would not be changing anytime soon. He easily picked up and wore that mantle though. For it meant there was food on the table for his family and coal to keep them warm in their dilapidated, shoddy apartment. It also meant his younger brother and sister could stay in school and receive a good education. Plus their mum did not have to work sewing till her fingers bled from dawn until midnight. No, his soul was damned but he did not care. He was the man of the house, had been since the age of nine when his father died, and his family came first.

The first time he saw her…he wondered if he might regret missing heaven and all its beautiful creatures. It would be a shame if all the angels looked like her. Perhaps he could amend his ways…later. 

Blood ran down from the left side corner of his mouth, leaving the tang of copper and dirt on his tongue. The dull ache from his mid ribs told him that he would have bruises there tomorrow. He would have to keep them hidden from his mum. None of the pain affected him though. None of the blood stopped him. In this moment, he was an invincible force of nature. Even the devil himself would refuse to fight him right now.

He glared down at the bleeding, busted man at his feet, the wrath of all his ancestors fueling his rage. “You want to say that again, you fucking wop?”

The man –teenager really- sneered but wisely kept his tongue behind his teeth.

The lad at his feet was only a year older than himself, just barely an adult, but that did not matter. Not here on the dirty streets of London. Not even when the gang of wop lads outnumbered the few Jewish lads walking back to the shitty apartments of their families. Big fucks little. And a certain Jewish lad promised himself to one day be the boss. To never back down from a fight until everyone feared his name and pissed themselves even thinking about fighting him.

Alfie eyed the seven other Italian lads sprawled out in the back alley in various states of injury or restrainment. Two of his own lads looked injured enough but otherwise no one was dead. Returning his intense gaze to the ringleader at his feet, he cracked his bloody knuckles.

“See here. That’s the thing, innit? You think just coz you got them fuckin’ suits and greased hair, you s’better than us. Mmm? S’fucking disgrace, mate. Me little sister can fight better than you lot.”

“Fuck you, Solomons.” The man spat blood onto Alfie’s shoes.

Alfie kicked the downed man. “S’disgusting, Sabini. Mate, you gotta learn to shut your mouth before shit starts fallin’ out, yeah? Now, I’m gonna…”

“STOP THEM! STOP THOSE BOYS!”

He looked up as several whistles blew, alerting him to the coppers running straight towards them. Rapidly he spun around, already seeing the panicked look on a few of his lads’ faces. He guessed these coppers were probably paid off by the Sabini family, so the Italian lads would be seen as the victims or get a slap on the wrists while the Jewish lads would be thrown in jail at least overnight if not a couple of days.

“Ishmael, Natan, get the lads! Get ‘em to the warehouse!” Alfie barked out, eyeing the inevitable situation. He was not afraid. This would not be his first time in handcuffs or in jail. At the rate it was going, probably not his last time either. He would make sure they remembered his name though.  

Fists clenched at his sides, he stood perfectly still, like a statue made from stone- unmoving, unrelenting, fearless and determined. Only his icy stare betrayed the whirlwind of emotions seething underneath his skin. He waited for them. As a predator eyeing the unsuspecting prey approaching, he remained fixed amongst the Italian boys he had just been fighting. To any outsider he appeared Ares, the god of war, his victims laying at his feet.

Once the coppers tried to arrest him, to make him surrender…the whirlwind of fire was released. He attacked, doling out several solid punches to those in uniform. They would never forget his name. They fought back with their batons, meeting his bloodied fists. Red clouded his vision. Moments blurred as he held his own. At one point he laughed, cocky and brash. Youth and vengeance fueling his rage.

Eventually, it took four grown men to slam him on the ground and handcuff him. The rocks and debris scrapped the side of his face. He sputtered as a fresh wave of blood filled his mouth when one of the coppers kicked him in the stomach. Cursing colorfully in Russian, he remained down…for now. From what he could see, it looked like the lads had gotten away. Two coppers were trying to wrestle two different wops down and arrest them also. The rest were pulling the Italian lads up against a nearby wall to assess their injuries.

“Move it, boy.” A gruff voice commanded him, dragging him up and towards a nearby brick building across the alley from the Italian boys. Smart man to separate them. He hit the wall, none to gently, and slide down to sit, his back resting against the coarseness of the brick. It tugged at his coat. Sweat soaked through his shirt underneath with flecks of blood splattered sporadically. Whose blood though was the ultimate question. Through half-hooded lids, he watched the coppers and the Italian lads while resting and assessing his own injuries. His ribs rebelled their current position. At least one or two of his knuckles felt busted. The trickle of pooling blood in his mouth made him think he cut his inner check. A new throbbing came from his temple. He could not remember if someone got a hit in or it was where the force of impact from being slammed to the ground originated. The boss would be fucking livid with him. So would his mum. Honestly, he was unsure which was more terrifying when yelling at him.

Opening his eyes to blink away any sweat and blood trickling down, he shifted slightly, the brick digging into his back. That was when he saw her. An absolute angel on earth. Casually walking, as if for a relaxing stroll in the park, she came closer in that dirty back alley. A copper walked close by her, a hand on her elbow as if to guide her. Alfie would not tear his eyes away from her. Never in his seventeen years had he seen anything he could truly label gorgeous or breath-taking. Yet this creature of light did not waver like a flame or mirage. No, she strolled with her head raised proudly, a pout to her full lips with an almost bored look. Her long, blonde hair glowed under the dingy streetlamps, casting a halo around her face, highlighting her delicate features. What made her stand out even more was the party dress and heels that seemed more appropriate for an aristocratic event or a club than the dank back alley full of blood, sweat and piss. Her dress was purple with a sweetheart neckline, lace just barely covering her exposed shoulders and ending mid-shin. Everything about her screamed wealth and posh. Still he could not hate her. It would be like hating a field of sunflowers or a dazzling morning sunrise. His eyes traced her lithe, feminine form and he swallowed subconsciously. There was no way she was older than him, but her silhouette left no doubt that she was a beautiful woman and not a pretty girl.

Once they got close enough, she softly said something to the officer escorting her then without waiting for a response, strutted towards Alfie. Each step she took in his direction, the dirt, blood and sweat felt amplified on his skin and clothes. He could not move nor speak, his mind having lost all function in her wake.

Friendly-like, as if they had known each other for years, she knelt down at his side. Apparently uncaring of the grime in the alley. Her emerald green eyes sparkled like a priceless gem. Quickly she pulled a handkerchief from her small clutch and tenderly dabbed away the blood at his temple, cheek and mouth. No one had touched him this gently outside of his mother and siblings. Unconsciously he leaned into her touch, the handkerchief against his skin.

“Looks like you were in a right, proper fight. I almost feel sorry for the other guy.”

“Naw, don’t be, love. Those wops asked for it.”

“Did they?” She glanced over her shoulder at the others against the opposite wall of that alley. “What did they do?”

“Looked at me funny, right? Can’t ‘ave none of that.” He was not actually going to tell her the wops started yelling racial slurs across the street at him and his lads and making comments about how their mothers spread their legs for anyone. No, he would play it off.

“Well, serves them right then. Looks like they probably needed some dirt on those clean suits and shoes.” Turning back, she winked at him then continued her cleaning, ignoring the rest of the chaos surrounding them. It truly felt like being in the eye of a storm. Nothing and no one else around mattered. All he could see, feel and sense was the angel before him. Even her touch was delicate as she cleaned up his face. Not once did he wince, but that could just be from his mind unable to focus on anything besides her.

“Are you injured badly?” She asked, keeping her voice low as her eyes found his in the gloom.

“No. ‘M fine.”

“Ever been to jail?”

He definitely was not expecting that question from her. “Yeah…yeah, I have.”

She hummed, seeming unsurprised. “Have fun?”

“Oh yeah, fucking best day of me life. Champagne and dancing to fill the night, yeah?”

She laughed, and in that moment he decided that was his favorite sound on this planet. It was robust and sweet, her head tipped back and eyes crinkled. “Well I would hate to take away that pleasure from you but I was wondering if you wanted to get away. I mean these officers are lovely and all but I would not mind a stroll under the moonlight. What do you think? Want to escort me?”

“Love, I’ll follow you wherever you wanna go, yeah?”

A smile burst forth, brilliant as a supernova and filled Alfie with a fire he had never experienced before. Sure he understood the fire of anger and wrath, it helped fuel him in the fights he got into. This though… this fire seeped deep into him like a brand made on his bones that warmed him from head to toes.

“Cheeky. I’m going to hug you but do not move from that position. Wait for my signal, got it?”

He nodded, mouth dry. What the bloody hell was happening? Wait, he would get her dirty with all the filth on him. Before he could protest, she shifted and wrapped her arms around him, embracing him. The scent of lavender filled his senses, making him subconsciously take a deep breath. Was it a perfume she wore? Was it just infused into her skin? It did not matter, he wanted to drown in her scent and never resurface. Her lips were next to his ear, her breasts pressed against his chest, her warm breath ticking the hairs on his neck. It was too much. This angel, a being of light, was creating quite sinful images in his mind. Awful, beautiful, wicked scenarios that entailed her pearly white skin laid bare beneath him. All the blood in his body rushed south and suddenly he felt lightheaded, unsure if it was her intoxicating scent and proximity or his bodily reaction and blood loss. It felt so wrong. His soul was damned, blackened by his choices. Yet he yearned for her like he never had before for anyone or anything.

Both a moment and an eternity later, he heard a faint click coming from behind him. With that she leaned back, but not before dragging a single finger slowly down his jawline. That simple touch sent shivers down his spine.

“What’s your name?”

“Alfie. Alfie Solomons.”

“I’ll be right back, Alfie. Stay here.”

With an astounding amount of grace, she rose from kneeling next to him. Casually she strolled over to the copper who had guided her initially into the alley. He had been speaking with two other coppers standing near the Italian lads. During their strange interaction, Alfie had actually forgotten about the fucking wops and coppers, too entranced by her. Now looking around he could see some of the coppers walking away with the other lads while others stood around surveying the area. He counted at least six coppers in current view. Four too many to all be informally patrolling together. Did someone tip them off to the fight? Were they waiting? Questions swarmed in his mind. At least the Jewish lads got away. They were lucky this time.

Twisting his hands, he froze. The handcuffs no longer strangled his wrists. Actually they felt loose…a quick shake and they practically fell off. That was what she had done when embracing him? Now a new set of questions swarmed like a crazed flock of pigeons in his mind. How? Why? If anything, his respect for her grew…and his curiosity. This was clearly not her first time getting out of handcuffs. She was an enigma. A posh girl who could break someone out of handcuffs in seconds. Glancing to his left, he noticed her small clutch lay on the ground near him. Was this a sign of trust or manipulation?

Overall his rational mind continued to scream ‘what is happening?’ for nothing about tonight was going as expected.

A couple minutes later, she sashed over to the four Italian lads sitting against the far wall and began chatting with them. One, with a black eye, said something and winked making her giggle shyly. A jealous rage crept upon Alfie. Who the fuck did those wops think they were talking to his angel? They were lucky they were all handcuffed because if even one tried to touch her, he would kill the sod…and make it fucking biblical worthy. He continued to watch with growing ire as she laughed and talked with them for several minutes. It took every ounce of self-control to remain where he was and continue the pretense of being handcuffed still.

Finally, she rubbed one of the lads’ shoulders in farewell while making a comment that caused them to laugh or snicker before she returned to his side.

“Nice fuckin’ chat you have there, yeah? Makin’ new friends?”

She sat on the ground next to him, brushing her hair over her shoulder, it easily reaching her mid-back. “Patience, sweetheart, patience. All part of the plan.”

“Plan, eh? That’s the thing, now, innit? I’m not much for patience. Too restless, me mum says, asking too many questions, yeah.”

“I promise I’ll make it worth your time.” She purred out, a glint in her eyes.

His trousers suddenly felt a little tighter. “Oh yeah? Care to share with the class?”

“Now where is the fun in that?”

“You ain’t gonna get me shot, right? That s’fucking pain and would ruin me night.”

“As long as you can keep up.” She deadpanned then glanced over at the other lads, keeping her voice lowered. “You know these streets?”

“Yeah.”

“At the signal, we run. You can get us away from here.”

“Yeah, yeah.” They sat in poised silence for a long moment. He unashamedly took the time to admire her beside him. She was too clean, too pristine to be from anywhere around here. Hell, it looked like she bathed regularly which honestly was uncommon where he was from. She certainly had weaned at the bosom of wealth and continued to be nurtured by it. So why was she here? Why did the coppers have her? Why was she so desperate to get away from them? “What’s your name?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” She winked, fiddling with the hemline on her dress.

“Ah, come on, love.”

“I saw you fight the police men.” She abruptly changed topics. “I have never seen anyone fight like that before. I bet you could box in the rings if you wanted.”

“Yeah? Just somethin’ you learn on the streets, right? Not much to it. I’ve always been broader and stronger than most lads, yeah, so I guess it is easier. Me grandfather taught me some.”

“Well, I found it incredible to watch.”

A second later, a commotion had him whipping his head up in time to see the Italian lads leaping up and running down the alley, some faster than others. The coppers immediately started after them, yelling and blowing their whistles. Chaos suddenly ruling the alley.

He guessed that was the signal.

Leaping to his feet and ignoring the sharp pain in his ribs at the movement, he grabbed her hand. Within the span of a heartbeat, they were racing away from the commotion. Adrenaline coursed through him, helping him forget the aches, pain and fatigue from the fights that night. A shout sounded from behind but neither one of their steps faltered. At the end of the alley, still holding her hand, he pulled her left into a different back alley. He kept his ears open for shouts and whistles, eyes open for coppers and any of those wops looking for revenge. He knew this town, these streets like his own name. They were a part of him, as much as his own blood and bones. He both loathed and loved them. They made him who he was. Yet he promised himself to rise above the poverty dragging its inhabitants down. He would rule this place. Fuck anyone who tried to stop him.

After at least ten minutes of running, he pulled her behind a local dress shop. The streetlamps could not pierce the gloom behind the store, making it perfect for hiding out. Plus there was usually a couple boxes laying around to sit on and it did not smell nearly as bad as the butcher shop just down the street. He pushed her against the wall and pressed himself beside her. Both of them gasping for breath, chests heaving. A glance at her surprised him. A brilliant smile shown, illuminating her face. As if sensing his gaze, she turned her head to meet his eyes. He could not help returning the smile.

“Think…we are…safe?” She asked between deep breaths, eyes still locked on his.

“Yeah…yeah. Don’t hear footsteps…besides ours, right?”

“Yeah.” Her smile turned mischievous as her breathing began to even out. “You seemed to know right where to go. I’m suspecting you have done this once or twice.”

“Once or twice. But you, fuckin’ hell. Gettin’ me outta those handcuffs. You do that often?”

“Once or twice.”

He barked out a laugh, shaking his head. This girl, this angel, was nothing like he had ever met before. Standing next to her now, he realized the top of her head just reached his chin, even in those little kitten heels she wore. For some odd reason, that realization made him smile.

“Is St. Mark’s church far from here?”

Raising an eyebrow, he smirked. “That where you’re supposed to be, innit?”

She shoved him, playfully. “Well is it?”

“No, not far. Come on, love. I’ll walk ya there meself. Can’t have you wanderin’ and gettin’ lost, yeah?” He chuckled at her glare before she just rolled her eyes. Pushing off the brick wall, he was surprised when her hand shot out to grab his arm.

“Wait.”

“S’alright? Need to catch your breath?”

Then the completely unexpected happened. He knew to the very marrow of his bones that he would never be the same again.

She roughly tugged him closer before raising up on her toes and pressing her lips against his. Immediately a heat wave shot through him. Without thinking, his body moved on its own accord. He was too focused on the delicious taste of her pouty lips, that entrancing scent of lavender dancing around her, and her body pressed against his. His hands automatically sought out her hips, backing her against the dirty, brick wall to further press himself against her. A slow sweep of her tongue had him open his mouth on a moan which then allowed their tongues to fight for dominance. Her hands moved from his neck upward into his hair, alternating between fisting it to force him closer and scraping his scalp with her nails. Sure he had kissed a couple of girls before, he was a seventeen-year-old hot blooded male. None of those times even came close to this moment. This kiss that would forever ruin him for any other woman. This was heaven in its bliss and hell in its torment. He ached to get closer, to taste more of her, to hear her breathe out his name. With each moment, every touch and continued molding of their lips, she burned further into him, like a drug he would never fully be able to escape.

Finally their lips unlocked, lungs demanding air. Panting with swollen, bruised lips, they stared at one another caught up in the moment of passion and fire. A whole brigade of coppers could have come marching down the alley and he would not have noticed.

“Do this often?”

“Once or twice.” He teased back, his ego inflated at seeing her look as wrecked as he felt. Apparently his kiss and touch affected her just as much as hers did to him.

She laughed, eyes sparkling in the dimness. “Still wanting to escort me?”

“Love, you ain’t gettin’ away from me now.”

Reluctantly he pulled away from her. All he wanted to do was continue kissing her, breathing her in and never let her go. Yet reality demanded something very different. It was obvious she was in a far different class from himself, something he would never achieve. He picked up her clutch that had been dropped on the ground during their snogging. Together, they stepped out of the alley and into the deserted street, heading south towards the church.

“You stopped bleeding.”

“Mmm? Oh yeah.” He touched his temple where there was certainly a cut. “I didn’t get none on you, right? Don’t wanna get any dirt or blood on you, keep you from being all dolled up.”

“I am fine. That stuff never bothered me anyway.”

He quirked an eyebrow at her. A posh lady not bothered by blood and dirt? She certainly was turning into a class all of her own…and he did not mind at all.

“What? Stop looking at me like that.”

“You’re the oddest lady I ‘ave ever met.” He teased.

“Excuse you!” She shoved him away, causing him to laugh as he stumbled several steps over dramatically. “See if I ever kiss you again, making fun of me like that. Plain rude is what that is.”

Swiftly moving back to her side, he wrapped his arms around her, holding her close. She refused to meet his eyes until he tipped her chin up with his hand. “Awww…come on, love. I was just teasin’ you a bit is all. I like you. Never been into girls scared of gettin’ their hands dirty meself. End up bein’ too much fuckin’ work, yeah, they are.”

A soft smile graced her lips. “Well, I would hate to be that.”

“Forgive me? I can get down on my knees right here if that’s what you want. I’ll sing a song for you, but you might think a damn cat is dyin’. Probably best if I don’t. Scare you away, yeah.”

She laughed, eyes crinkling. “I forgive you.” She pressed a quick peck to his mouth before sliding out of his arms to continue walking side by side.

“Do I get to learn who you are now?”

“Oh, I am no one interesting. Just a simple lady out on a stroll.”

Scoffing, he nudged her shoulder with his. “That’s the biggest fuckin’ lie I’ve ever ‘eard. A fancy, posh girl like yourself is never a ‘simple lady’, yeah? So, what’s your name?”

“Perhaps I do not want to be her tonight.” She sighed, looking up at the stars as if to distance herself from reality. A feeling Alfie understood all too well. She continued, her voice just a whisper in the night. “Perhaps I want to be someone different…someone else before society forces me to put the mask back on...to pretend for the sake of family and reputation that I am someone I am not. My apologies. I am rambling. It does not matter. Tis not your problem.”

He stopped, moving to stand in front of her. The depth of despair in her words made his heart clench. The whole night she had eluded an aura of authority, confidence and, truthfully, a sex appeal. Now though, whatever wall she protected herself with dropped for a moment. She tried to move around him but he gripped her upper arms gently yet firmly until she looked up at him. Those emerald eyes held him, curiosity and hesitation warring in their depths. Ever so gently he ran a knuckle down her cheek before tracing her lips with the tip of his finger. A piece of his mind imaging their passionate snogging was only a figment of his imagination.

“Look at me, love. You’ll never be a ‘simple lady’ coz you s’fuckin’ something else, right? You can break outta handcuffs faster than most men take a piss. Then you outrun coppers in those kitten heels all while laughing like a fuckin’ lunatic. But hell, maybe all posh ladies are like that where you are from, yeah? Scarin’ the shit outta normal lads but not me, no, love, you’re stuck with me now.”

With a blossoming smile on her lips, his self-control ran out. Bending down slightly, he kissed her. This kiss was slow and soft, a caress of lips and intermingling breaths. He broke it, placing his forehead against hers. “So, who do you wanna be tonight?”

“Either no one of consequence just out enjoying a stroll…”

He snorted. That was him every day.

“…or a king and queen, looking down on our kingdom.”

With a flourish, he bowed, probably not properly in anyway but it made her laugh. Then standing up, he quickly pulled his long black coat off and draped it over her shoulder. The goosebumps and faint shivers had not gone unnoticed while he held her. She giggled, giving him a proper curtsy while wearing his coat as a robe, looking more regal than she should.

“Your majesty, your carriage waits for you.”

Her smile was brighter than the full moon and stars above. Still giggling, she wrapped an arm through his. “My king, you are truly too kind.”

“Naw, that’s what us fuckin’ proper royal people do, yeah?”

They both laughed as they strolled down the darkened, dirty streets. Their conversation steered clear of anything too personal. Both enjoyed this pretend game, being someone else if even just for a little while. They talked about what they would do to make the city better, complained about the particular subjects that annoyed them, how many dogs and horses they each wanted, and where their summer getaway should be. On more than once occasion, they stole kisses from one another, some chaste and some not so much.

Yet like the clock striking midnight and the spell being broken, their time neared its end as they approached St. Mark’s church. Ahead, Alfie could see several cars lined up on the street. Their drivers standing around smoking and talking, waiting for those inside. The cars and drivers screamed wealth, far more than common in Camden Town.

“I can go from here. Thank you for walking me.”

“You sure? I don’t mind none, love.”

She slipped his coat off her shoulders before handing it over. “Thank you, Alfie. This was far more fun than I have had in a long time.”

“Will I see you again?” The words came blurting out without his permission but he did not regret asking. He desperately wanted to see her again.

“I hope so. I truly do.”

“Wait, I still don’t know your name. That’s not quite fair, innit? I mean, when I first saw you, I thought to meself, there, now there’s a fuckin’ angel.” He reached out a hand and twirled a lock of blonde hair around his finger. “Pretty damn sure you’re the most beautiful thing on this fuckin’ earth, yeah? And I’ve seen the ocean before, Margate yeah, but its nothin’ compared to you.” Where the words came from he was unsure but they poured forth on their own. As if knowing their time was over, he wanted her to remember him, even if it was for blubbering like a simpleton. He hoped she would not forget him like he would never forget her.

Taking a step closer, she kissed him once again, cupping his cheeks. “Call me that. I’ll see you around, Alfie. I do not think this is good-bye. Not for us.”

Before he could respond, she twirled around and walked towards the cars, gliding like a phantom from a dream. It did not take long for the men to notice her, one in particular coming to her side. After a minute of talking, he walked next to her up the stairs of the church then disappeared into the light after opening the doors.

Alfie stood rooted in the shadows for longer than necessary. It was foolish to linger, he knew that, but his body felt immobile. His eyes glued to those doors he would never pass through. Finally with a huff and curse, he tugged his coat back on and turned away. His walk home would be long for St. Mark’s was in the opposite direction of his mum’s shit apartment. It was worth it though. With each step, the lingering hint of lavender drifted off his coat. A reminder of the only other person besides himself to wear it. His feet were on autopilot for his mind could not stop ruminating on the blonde beauty with gemstone eyes. An angel on earth.

On the barren street under the moonlight and flickering streetlamps, Alfie prayed for the first time in years. He prayed to see her again. That whatever fate brought them together would not desert them now. He needed her light in the dark world he inhabited. He wanted once again to hold and kiss his angel.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #alfie solomons #peaky blinders fiction #alfie solomons x oc #pre ww1 #mzwrites

[khionesdaughter13]

Riordanverse at Hogwarts

1993

Nico is at the platform 9 3/4 with Bianca again, but this year is his own first-year

And he couldn't be more excited

Will Solace is there with his older brother Lester (* Obviously Apollo is Will's dad, but since I added Lester at his mortal age, this is my way of connecting them)

Carter's whole family is there, even his 9 years old sister, who almost managed to sneak onto the Hogwarts Express

But she was caught by Annabeth, who considered letting her stay, but eventually brought her back onto the platform

Carter and his parents were extremely relieved and thanked Annabeth for finding her a thousand times

Zia is at the platform with her adoptive dad Iskandar

She was a muggleborn, but was adopted by onto Iskandar's pureblood family three years ago

She and her parents had lived in a small village in England

A crazy death eater, who didn't believe that Voldemort was truly gone, went on a killing spree in her village, killing everyone there

But Zia's mother hid her when they saw the death eater kill the first muggles

Zia was the only survivor and found by the Ministry of Magic who were covering up the incident for the muggle world

They thought she was just a lucky muggle, but when they approached her, but Zia unwillingly unlashed a burst of magic, in her fear

They took her to the ministry instead unsure of what to do with her

That's where she met Iskandar

He was working at the ministry and when he saw the young frightened girl just sitting around, while no one really knew what to do with her, he approached her

Zia thought he was just another wizard asking the same interrogation questions as the other five before

But Iskandar started to ask unrelated questions like "What is your favourite colour?" or "What is your favourite magical creature?"

When he realized that Zia couldn't answer the magical related questions due to being a muggleborn he decided to take her to different departments

Zia learned a lot about the magical world and for one afternoon she was almost able to forget the horrible incident

And Zia had wrapped Iskandar around her little finger in no time

He knew his wife loved children and they had thought about having children of their own

He offered the Ministry to take her in and as Zia herself didn't know where else to go and had grown fond of Iskandar, she agreed

Zia fit right in with her adoptive family

She was eager to learn and Iskandar liked to teach

She wanted to learn how to fight, so she could stop the remaining death eaters

And Iskandar began to teach her the essentials of the wizarding world

Now it was time for her to go to Hogwarts

The Dementor's presence caused quite some talk between students

When the train stopped especially the younger student's were scared

Bianca was able to calm down Will, as well as Lester, who said he wasn't scared, but was shaking more than Will

Nico wasn't as scared as he probably should have been, but instead spouted every fact that he knew about Dementors

Finally arriving at Hogwarts the sorting ceremony started

Nico was sorted into Slytherin

He was sad to be seperated from Bianca, but he sat next to a second-year, who held up some friendly chatter with him

Next up was Carter who was sorted into Ravenclaw and walked past all the other first- and second-years to sit down next to Annabeth

Next came Zia who was also sorted into Slytherin

She sat next to Nico

And both excitingly exchanged all sort of facts that they learned

Last up came Will who was sorted into Hufflepuff and happily sat next to Lester

Lupin being the new Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher was taken very well

In a short span Defence Against The Dark Arts became Percy's, Jason's, Reyna's and Zia's favourite subject

And even if it wasn't their favourite subject, everyone loved Professor Lupin

Especially Reyna seemed to stay behind after his class

But she seemed different this school year anyway

During the summer holidays Reyna had an accident

Her father forbid Jason or Frank from seeing her and for the entire train ride she only exchanged a few words with them

She also spent a significant time in Dumbledore's office on the first evening and returned to the common room after curfew

Jason was determined to not let Reyna push him away

But he didn't force her to tell him what was going on with her either

He kept walking to their shared classes together, sat next to her, gave her his notes when she missed classes once per month and visited her in the infirmary

Reyna soon realized that she could trust Jason and told him

During their summer holidays Reyna was attacked by Fenrir Grayback and even though Hylla found her she was too late

She managed to chase Grayback away, but Reyna had already been bitten

She talked to Dumbledore on how to handle the situation on her first day back

Snape brewed her wolfsbane every month, but she still felt bad enough to sometimes miss classes and end up in the infirmary

She told Jason she talked to Lupin so much was because he, as a Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher, knew so much about werewolves

It was not her right to tell Jason about Lupin's secret

After Reyna told Jason he went to ask Lupin how he could help Reyna

Lupin was a little weary, but remembering his own school time and how his friends became Animagi for him, he suggested that Jason could read up on it a little

Jason didn't hesitate at all and pulled an all nighter reading every book in the library about Animagi that he could find

With Lupin's help he became an animagus in no time

His animagus form was an eagle

Grover and Juniper both took Care of Magical Creatures together

They saw each other regularly in class and helped Madam Sprout in the greenhouse after hours

Now they spent even more time together taking care of Magical Creatures in their free time as well

They can't even tell when their relationship went from friends to couple

Percy finds out, when Grover and Juniper come into the Great Hall holding hands

And he almost drops

How feels so oblivious for not noticing his best friends feelings

But he is happy for Grover

When it was rumored that Sirius Black broke into Hogwarts the students were forced to sleep in the Great Hall

Blitzen, Hearthstone and Magnus all slept next to each other and Blitzen and Hearthstone kept talking with Magnus to keep him distracted

Annabeth, Percy, Rachel, Grover and Juniper weren't far away

Annabeth wanted to keep an eye on Magnus and her friends just joined her

Frank used this night to reunite with Jason and Reyna who he had unintentionally distanced himself from

Calypso also stayed with him and both Frank and Calypso met Leo who had decided to stick with Jason

Piper joined Leo a little later when the Slytherins arrived and met the others

She already knew Jason and Reyna from their shared classes, but this was the first time she actually talked to them

Sam used to opportunity to spent the night talking to Alex

And Alex was happy to finally see Sam and Mallory again outside of class

Bianca sat next to Nico and when Lester and Will saw them they also sat close to them

Nico asked Bianca to sing that song their mom always sang to them

And when she did she caught the attention of quite a few students

Some started to gather around her listening to her singing

And when she stopped she was embarrassed by the attention

But this time Nico asked her to tell one of their mother's stories

And Sam, who had heard some of Bianca's stories herself assured her to go on

So when she started Alex sat down next to her

He had never demonstrated his metamorphmagus abilities in public before, but he felt like this was a good time

Along with Bianca's story he morphed into all sorts of different character's, visualizing it and captivating every student listening to them

Even the older students couldn't resist

The night that started as an absolute nightmare ended better than most expected

And when it ended friendships had been formed that had seemed unlikely before

Disclaimer: I was unsure what time period to put our characters in and after trying to write different headcanons I decided to go with putting Percy in the exact time period, that Harry Potter went to school, because it's the time period we know the best. While I know that characters would therefore actually would interfere with the Harry Potter dorms that were established (e.g. Percy would end up in the same dorm as Harry and his friends), I decided to not write my headcanons as a crossover of that art. Harry and his friends are still present at Hogwarts and all of their adventures are taking place at the same time, but I decided to exclude Percy and co. from these adventures. If there are school wide events (like the Triwizard Tournament) I will obviously mention them and include them in my headcanons, but there will be no direct interaction between HP characters and Riordanverse characters, to keep it a little more simple.

#hogwarts au #hogwarts #riordanverse au #riordanverse #percy jackson au #percy jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood #juniper #gruniper #rachel elizabeth dare #nico di angelo #bianca di angelo #lester papadopoulos #will solace #zia rashid #carter kane #sadie kane #magnus chase #alex fierro #sam al abbas #blitzen #hearthstone #jason grace #leo valdez #reyna avila ramirez arellano #frank zhang #piper mclean #mallory keen #calypso

[livayl]

Tusks and Comfort

After getting increasingly annoying with my non snz Azra drawings I thought it´s time to finally post her first story. :P This is about Orcs and takes places before the outbreak of the great war. Meaning Shokhrakka is somewhere in his mid 30s. Azra is his 5 years younger half-sister.

When Azra falls ill during a shared hunting trip Shokhrakka shows off his great big-brother skills. There is also a really cute, young warg named Tusk. Warnings for: slight bad language at some points. Uncovered sneezing that does NOT hit anybody. It´s basically hurt-comfort mixed with a little snark and an adorable puppy. 

Please only reblog this to other snz-kink blogs, thank you. :)

Only enlighted in a dwindling, already dulled sundowns dusk the shaded hollows looked their name more than ever. Once a giant mountain so tall its peak had burst through the highest clouds, frozen and hostile even in summer, now a steep ravine reaching up to the heavens on both of its sides. Its charcoal intestines where streaked with an extensive cave system that intertwined almost infinitely; a careless individual would be forlorn, doomed to an early grave within the former giants cold corpse. Sharp, glistening slopes were disguised in malnourished trees and thorny bushes slightly punctuated with narrow paths only known by few. All cloaked in an ever present opaque fog that, swirling tightly around each figure, created new material for nightmares with each new veil. Obsidian rocks and faded green canopies now glistened with thousands of icy droplets as rainwater poured down heavily. Seeping and carving its own ways, adding new clouds of mist in its wake. As intimidating and dangerous as they were, the towering rock walls and the deeply shaded earth in between were the chosen nights accommodation for a small hunting party. Two orcs sat in a small, shallow cave. Closely huddled together with a full grown warg and its barely adolescent brother under a pointed ledge. Their quarry so consumed the carcass was barely discernible in the dim light. If one listened carefully, the soughing melody of rainfall was split by the edged sound of flint stone hitting gravel.

The wood was still young, freshly grown and thus more in sap than Azra would have preferred it to be. It took a while to ignite the wispy branches until a warm amber glow finally twirled them up in an almost hypnotic motion. She watched them getting devoured by the blazing dance until black billows veiled her sight.  The resulting smoke was thick, accompanied by ascending sparks and stung as it wafted skywards. 

This seemed to be more than her already assaulted senses could handle as the sharp stench crushed her last resolve and triggered a harsh, prolonged coughing fit. If that alone had not been embarrassing enough, successfully attracting her older half-brothers attention and hidden concern, the itch further up her nose seemed to have been kindled as well. Azra barely had time to fully avert her head or shield her mouth, the sudden urge to sneeze so strong it did not build but explode in a single loud almost primal gasp that did culminate in a rushed: "HEHR-ERSSSCHH-uh!" - that, released down her lap and barely restrained by tightly clenched jaws, escaped through the gap her massive tusks naturally left. Right in its wake came the second one, the irritation still persistently present, forcing her head to rear back as a deep inhale strained her chest. If not overwritten by the sheer urgency of this reflex Azra would have been aware of how frightening the displayed snarl appealed: An already grim face distorted even further, many argent piercings mirroring the fires unsteady flicker. Bushy brows drawn deeply together above teary crimson, slightly slanted eyes. The bridge of her orcish nose crinkled even more while her nostrils flared, curling upwards as did her upper lip, revealing mighty fangs: "Huuhrr-EISCHHAH!"

"Ew. Careful where you spit at." Came Shokhrakka reply from her left, his usual sonorous voice vibrating with suppressed amusement. "Fu-hah- Fu~ck-HEH-WRISSSCH! you- Snrfff."

The repeated disturbance had woken and attracted the younger wargs keen senses, made him scoot even closer to its source. His ashen coat still felt slightly damp as out sized, clawed paws scratched over leather clad skin and a cold, wet nose bumped against Azras bare arm. The cool touch evoked a  light shiver.   

"Aww....Sorry for startling you, Tuskie. Just snrrf some smoke drifted the wrong way." She gently cooed and rumpled through the wargs shaggy fur, carefully massaging his big triangular head with her own claws. Tusk immediately felt invited to cuddle into her side. Underestimating his own strength he nearly slammed into the Orc as he tried to climb into her lap. His tail kept wagging excitedly, fluffy butt following suit with each turn, which dulled his already feral appearance to looking like a long overgrown puppy. "Careful there." Azra chuckled, the low hum re-sparking an irritation deep in her aching throat to a burning blaze that threatened to lead to another coughing fit. 

"Gonna sneeze again?" Her brother asked while scrutinizing her facial features that had scrunched up in a subconscious painful wince. "Ugh I hope not. That was enough to last a damned month."

Shokhrakka smiled as the young warg had finally wrestled enough to reach his planned destination and leaned back against his best-friends chest, pink tongue lolling out in a vain attempt to lick over Azras face. His own heart lovingly-ached a little as Azras full lips curved upwards while her strong, long arms embraced his lanky body. Eyes shining brightly as she dodged the juveniles wet attempts of affection over and over again only to playfully pat and kiss Tusks forehead in between. Still, even shrouded by the crackling fires golden glow she seemed pallid and tired, grayish-olive skin that used to have a metallic hue now dulled dustily. Her nose and the area around her eyes were tinted unhealthily dark and the many adornments seemed to feel more irritating than gracing. The soft sheen was not able to blur the indications of exhaustion that had crept deeper into sharply chiseled expressions as the day had progressed.

  Maybe he should have listened to his instincts more than her assurances when this morning his half-sister had woken both of them up with a rattling cough. Sitting in a bed ruffled and damp with a nights cold sweat gleaming sickly like a lost wraith in a swamp. But as much as he already came to understand her, she would have denied any weakness and refused to postpone their hunting trip anyways. Sometimes a culture so obstinately driven with status of strength had its downsides. And little had he known of Azras unrelenting sense of pride born out of pure necessity that came with being a warrior in a culture dominated by men. Only the ever present display of both physical and mental health, a raw force sharpened to comprehensive might, had enabled her to become the warrior that was now feared and admired. Although her nose seemed to have forgotten this important knowledge as the twitching and widely flaring nostrils indicated the urge to relent and release another- or several- sneezes.

He silently observed her crinkling and rubbing said nose, lips already parted more than usual while her mouths corners slowly turned downwards. Then, sudden yet fluent like all her movements, she lifted the heavy warg from both to one knee, hands securely around its waist, inhaled deeply and sneezed harshly off to her free side: "hhhHH-HuhhrESSCHH-UH! -hhh-haah-ERRRSCHHaah!" The expulsions were accompanied by a fine but copious spray clearly made visible by the campfire´s backlight and followed by a volley of rattling, chesty coughs. Tusks ears flattened as he squirmed against her solid grip, his own nose trembled and chaps lifted from sharp teeth with concern at his owners violent spasms. "Hey... You´re alright?" Shokhrakka asked, unable to hide his worry any longer. "It´s all good" Azra sputtered out between coughs, still painfully twisted away from both the animal and her brother as much as possible. "You´re aware that the pup can´t catch anything from you, right?" "There´s nothing to catch." Azra replied, sarcasm unable to mask the rasp breaking her tone. "You were the one who told me to watch my spit. " 

"Come here pal, let´s give her a little more space to breath." Shokhrakka said and lifted the restless warg back down to the ground. "You are not getting sick on me out here, are you?" He then asked again, voice lowered to the warmest big-brother tone it was able to achieve. Shokhrakka could clearly see her conflicted between giving reassurance with a lie and the honesty his younger sister normally valued so much. "I-I caught a chill. Nothing bad. Just a little coughing and sneezing." She replied elusively. "A lot coughing and sneezing." Her brother replied flatly. Which wasn't an exaggeration. Through all the time he had traveled and fought aside his sister he had witnessed her ghastly injured and in oppressed pain but had rarely heard or seen a sign of illness. Neither a prolonged fever, cough nor sneeze. In fact the only incident he could recall the later was a harsh double brought about by one of those nasty herbal ingredients- and that felt like months ago.

Azra shivered violently against Tusks warm body and tried to focus on the steady dripping sound of rain and the swooshing movement of paddling paws. The not so little puppy seemed to hunt in his dreams as well- his legs and ears twitching and moving alertly from time to time. Sometimes emitting a low, humming growl that vibrated his whole frame. Azra had barely managed to suppress any more symptoms but had not been able to eat and now it appeared she had lost her ability to sleep as well. Unable to breath through her nose she had to keep her mouth open which irritated her sore and aching throat even further. Threatened to cause convulsive coughing fits every few minutes that she fought fiercely to muffle and suppress. A fight she was predestined to loose.

Amid one of those battles she felt one of Shokhrakkas big and rough hands clumsily rub semicircles between her shoulder blades. Sadly it did little to sooth the tight feeling in her chest, right above her lungs where all the coughing made it ache deeply. "Gross. If you want to cuddle you´re barking up the wrong tree. Sleep, brother." "As if anyone could with all of your baying." "... Sorry for keeping you awake." "Don´t worry about it." "I could go outside." Azra suggested. 

In truth she had tried to get up to go outside twice after their wargs had fallen asleep, snoring soundly. Either prevented by  a sudden vertigo or Shokhrakkas sudden yet strong grip around her ankle. Not that she could not have been stronger, she thought, when reality was that her whole body felt so weak and wobbly she did not trust herself wrestling with an infant yet alone a fully grown Orc. For tonight it seemed like wrestling that nasty illness was all Azra could spend her remaining strength for. As a new coughing fit forced her to press an already sodden piece of cloth tightly against her mouth, her nose, that damned pesterer, caught the opportunity to follow suit with being intrusive. The prickling tickle spread swiftly, almost stabbing the insides of her already widely flaring nostrils and forced her to suck in a deep rattling breath.

Gods be fucking damned she wished...- "hh hheh HHH-HURRR-ESSCHH!"- she could be- "haah-HERSCHHH-ah!"- more- "HDT-ERSSCHHUH!"- hell not again- "HRAH-EESCHHH-uh!"- quiet... Tusk had woken again, jumped up and looked around confusedly. Sensing no danger, his intelligent eyes stopped their search and locked into Azras own. Two gleaming, golden beacons met smoldering red abysses in the caves dusky twilight. Azras shivering worsened the moment the warm and heavy weight in front of her was gone and she started to curl inward against the sudden chill. "Come on, get up if you can. I´ll spark the fire a little more."

Shokhrakka had tried not to let his worry bleed through too much. But as the awakening flames started their crackling waltz, casting flickering shadows and emitting hordes of glowing sparks, they poured a warm, revealing light over Azras shaking figure. The flaring blaze further illuminated her hollow and pale face that had a glow on it´s own- burning with fever and decorated with glittering droplets of cold sweat around her brow and protruding horns. She squinted her once blazing eyes that seemed dulled to gleaming coal. More swallowing the light than reflecting it.

And it did not seem like she would make it the few steps without an accident. She was swaying dangerously while rising, close to toppling over into the flames. The last thing they needed were burn wounds. "Let me help you." Shokhrakka said, doing his best to sustain his sisters body despite her increasingly growing growls and tension. "Let go or I´ll bite you." She hissed between bared fangs. "Yeah because your feeling so hot you can withstand the flames. Here, sit."   Shokhrakka sat down next to the fire, on the smoke averted side, and leaned her against his shoulder on one and the cave walls on the other side for support. Tusk whined faintly, unable to snuggle against his orcish friend without risking to singe his fur. He then turned to bark at his older sister who, still tired and worn from hunting, just yawned in response.

"I can sit by myself." Azra mumbled hoarsely but felt more steady with her brothers tall body seated next to her. Firm, scarred and even a little protective as the shaded hollows themselves. "Hush." "You don´t have to stay up with me." She said a little embarrassed and watched Tusk playfully biting into Varz tail. The elder warg turned to snap at him with an annoyed snarl that started a bickering not unusual for the diverse siblings. "Psst." "You´ll get sick too." "Thought it was  just a little coughing and sneezing." "Ye-hhehh-yes... Still." "I won´t get sick."

As much as she hated and dreaded it at the same time, this wretched illness seemed eager to test her brothers immune resolve, reigniting a tickle that had been sparked by the sudden firelight. With Shokhrakka so close she saw no choice but to contain the incoming eruptions as best as possible even if she knew how painful that could end. "Huh-" Azras breath started to hitch and as her lungs drew in a deep breath. She crushed her tickling nose between thumb and forefinger while simultaneously shielding her mouth with the palm of the same hand. "-Haaa-HDT-ERSCH-uh! HehDZSCH-ah..." She could not have done anything to avoid the sneezes, neither was she able to bite back the pained groans after every one. "Ouch. Need to wipe your nose?" "Ndo... Uh..." She managed to answer through thick congestion pounding in her even heavier head while pondering if it would be too disgusting to wipe her soiled hand on her tunic. Screw it, she had done worse. 

"Gross." Azras brother mimicked her former statement only to lessen the impact with an olive branch clad in a soft handkerchief. "Didn't know you own a thing like that." "I´m always good for surprises." Shokhrakka replied over her productive noseblow that was followed by an even more yielding yawn. "Try to sleep a little." "I´m not tired..." Azra mumbled. Her eyes caught sight of Tusk and Varz who had ended their little quarrel and were starting to lay down next to each other. Their breaths already coming in slow, relaxed huffs. 

She felt the pleasantly soothing warmth of the campfire caressing her front and her sides steadied against both rock solid and safe surfaces; one cold and the other feeling like home. Azras eyes slowly drifted shut, breathing deepening and less labored through the upright position. The soft cloth fell out of her grip as dreams sung their relaxing melodies from afar. Sleep did not sound that bad....

#my fic #my oc #Azra #Shokhrakka #sneezing #snzfic #cold #female #sneeze #I might write part 2 #but damn that got long already #Orc #orcgirl

[cristinablackthornkingson]

Shadowhunters Short Story #58. Baby Lightwood-Bane #4.

It is a chilly February day in 2016 when Magnus and Alec Lightwood-Bane receive the news that will change their lives forever.

It has been two years since Magnus and Alec adopted their youngest child and first daughter, Anna Catarina. Anna is almost two now and has remained a very happy, content little girl. She idolizes her brothers and is best friends with little Mina, as well as Clary and Jace’s daughter Lucie and Simon and Isabelle’s son and daughter George and Jessie. 

Right now Alec is sitting in a room that he and Magnus made into a type of schoolroom for the boys (and Anna when she’s older) working on some history with Rafe, though Alec takes Rafe to The Institute to train, he works on the academic side of his (and Max’s) education here at home, often with help from Magnus. Max is in the living room finishing up a lesson with Magnus and Anna is in Magnus and Alec’s room, taking her nap. 

“Okay Rafe, can you tell me the story about the first Shadowhunter? What was his name, how did he create Shadowhunters, stuff like that?” Alec asks, pulling the textbook away from Rafe so he can test him on what they just learned. 

“Uh well he was a mundane in the 11th century and he was a crusader, and he was really worried about all the demons coming in through the void, so one day on his way to Constantinople he met a warlock- like papa- and asked him to summon Raziel at Lake Lyn. He did and when Raziel was summoned, Jonathan begged him to mix his blood with his to create a new superhero race of people who could defeat the demons. Raziel saw that Jonathan had good intentions so he agreed and then gave him to The Mortal Instruments- like Uncle Simon’s band’s name!- then Jonathan used the cup to turn his sister Abigail and his best friend David into Shadowhunters. David and Jonathan were inspired by the story of Jonathan and David in the Bible, so they took that story and created a ceremony where they took eachother’s blood and spoke the oath and put the runes on each other and became the first ever parabatia, but their bond was broken later when David became the first Silent Brother- like Uncle Jem use to be a Silent Brother- and that’s really all we know.” Alec smiles proudly at his son, he was sure to pass all his exams in a few years with flying colors, he could do wonderfully at The Academy if he chooses to go there when he’s older.

“Good job buddy, but remember when you’re writing about this in your tests don’t mention anything unrelated like how Uncle Simon’s band is also called The Mortal Instruments and that Uncle Jem use to be a Silent Brother, okay?” Alec gently says. He doesn’t mind Rafe’s brief diversions from the story, but an examiner certainly will. 

“Okay, I just got excited, sorry.” Rafe quietly says, feeling embarrassed that he got distracted like a little kid .He’s almost 10 now, he’s a big boy, not a little kid anymore, like Max who’s still only 8 or Anna who really is only a baby. 

“It’s okay buddy don’t be sorry, you know I don’t mind you adding in little things like that, but an examiner who doesn’t know us and our family won’t understand it’s relevance and importance and could mark you down, okay?” Alec gently says. Rafe nods his understanding. “Alright, I think that’s enough for today, how about you?” 

“Uh-uh.” Rafe agrees. 

“Come on, lets go see if your papa and Max are finished, then I’ll wake Anna up and we can go to the park if you like.” Alec says, closing the textbook in front of him. 

“Uh-uh! Can we have pizza for dinner, please?” Rafe begs, turning his big brown eyes to his dad, knowing Alec can never resist his eldest child’s puppy dog eyes. 

“Well I’ll talk to papa but I certainly think you’ve earned it today, and I’m sure Max has too.” Alec says, ruffling Rafe’s hair as they walk out of the schoolroom. 

“I’ll go ask papa!” Rafe exclaims, darting out to the living room before Alec can say another word.

When Alec steps into the living room he sees that Magnus and Max have finished their lesson, and both boys are asking for pizza for dinner, so Alec quietly slips into his and Magnus’ room and make his way over to the crib by the bed, where Anna is sitting up, rubbing her eyes. He gently scoops her up and snuggles her close, breathing in her scent and pressing a kiss to her cheek. 

“Hi baby.” Alec whispers, as Anna clutches his shirt and buries her face in his chest. “Oh sweetheart are you still tired? Did you have a nice nap?” He softly says, rubbing soothing circles on her back. “Come on, lets go see your brothers and papa, that will wake you up.” He grabs her pacifier from the crib and makes his way back into the living room, which has now been cleared up. The minute Anna sees Magnus she perks up and reaches for him. Magnus smiles broadly at his daughter and takes her into his arms, smoothing her hair down and kissing her forehead. 

“There’s my girl, I missed you.” He softly says. 

“Papa’s girl aren’t you Anna?” Alec says in an amused tone, lightly tickling his daughter’s cheek, causing her to squeal with laughter and squirm away from him. 

“You just love being with papa because you know I’ll dress you in something amazing while your daddy would stick you in the first thing he found, isn’t that right my sweet Anna banana?” Magnus lightly says, holding her above his head which makes her scream and giggle with delight. Magnus loves having a little girl to buy adorable dresses and outfits for, there is such a small selection for fashionable boy clothes, especially when those boys are 10 and 8, but for a 2 year old little girl, the sky’s the limit. 

“I just don’t understand the point of putting her in a designer outfit when she’s only going to end up getting half of her meals all over it and ruin it.” Alec says, as Magnus settles Anna back onto his hip. “Our daughter is the messiest little thing alive, you know that.” 

“Yes but at least she’ll be fashionably messy when I dress her.”  Magnus points out. 

“She’s going to end up like Jace if we’re not careful.” Alec teases. Magnus gives a fake gasp of horror and covers one of Anna’s ears. 

“Don’t you dare say such a thing!  You’re going to confident like papa, right Anna? Not an arrogant fool like Uncle Jace.” Magnus coos. Anna smiles up at him in delight and clumsily claps her hands. 

Half an hour later, the little family are walking toward the local park, Alec pushing Anna in her stroller, Magnus at his side and Max and Rafe running up ahead. As they walk, Magnus’ phone begins to buzz in his pocket. 

“Hello?” He answers a few seconds later.

“Hey, it’s me.” Catarina’s voice comes down the line and a smile breaks out on Magnus’ voice. 

“Oh Cat! Good to hear from you! Listen, Ragnor, Tessa and I are going out next week, do you want to come?” He asks, as Alec walks ahead a little bit so as not to listen in on Magnus’ private conversation. 

“Id love to however I actually called about something in specific.” Catarina tells him. 

“Oh what’s that?” He asks. 

“Well a few weeks ago the hospital asked me if I could work on the maternity ward for a while, cover maternity leave ironically. A couple of weeks ago a young girl was admitted with bleeding, thankfully she and the baby are fine, but I grew close with her and got to talk with her a lot. She’s only 16 and not ready to be a mother yet at all, she’s planning to place her baby for adoption, I showed her yours and Alec’s profile and she took to you straight away, she’s not in hospital anymore but we keep in touch and she’s always asking me things about you and Alec, she really wants to meet you, if you’re interested.” Magnus stops dead in his tracks when Catarina finishes her story. Not long ago he and Alec agreed that they would like to extend their family for the last time. At one point in time Tessa had been an adoption consultant and helped bring together many children and parents, so she helped them create a profile book, which she then took a few copies of to give to any clients she and Jem got who were looking to place their child for adoption, and Catarina took another bunch to do the same. 

“R-really? We only made up the booklet a few months ago.”  Magnus says in a breathy tone, beginning to walk again and running a hand through his hair. 

“I know but it can happen very quickly, I know with Max, Rafe and Anna you all found each other by fate, but with a profile book to show expectant mothers and adoption consultants it can happen much more quickly.” Catarina explains. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“No! We do! I mean, I’ll have to speak with Alec about it but I’m certain he will want this as much as I do, what’s the mother’s name? Is she mundane, Nephilim,what?” Magnus asks.

“Her name is Molly Bridgestock, she’s a Shadowhunter, from a very high up, proud, old Shadowhunter family. Her parents threatened to kick her out if she didn’t give up the baby, when I heard this I offered for her to stay with me or offered to contact Tessa, see if she and Jem could help, but Molly says she’s doing this adoption on her own terms, she loves her baby but she knows she can’t give them the life they deserve, though I do worry how her parents will react when they find out you’re a Warlock and you and Alec are a gay couple, Molly is completely fine with it, she was awe-struck when she saw Alec’s picture, truth be told I think she has a little crush on your Consul Ligthwood.” Magnus laughs lightly, not surprised that this young girl has a crush on his gorgeous husband, he can’t understand how everyone in the world isn’t in love with Alec. 

“That doesn’t sound like a good home for any child, is Molly safe?” Magnus asks in a concerned tone, more than willing to take in both this young girl and her child, if need be. 

“She says she is but I just don’t know, her parents are very ‘traditional’ if you know what I mean.” Catarina tells him. 

“Yes unfortunately I do. I’ll talk to Alec and get back to you, in the meantime can you give Molly my number and address and let her know our door is always open for her? We would take Molly in and help her raise her baby herself if she wants.” Magnus softly says, wanting to do all he can for a child in need. 

“Of course, talk to you soon.” Catarina says, before hanging up. 

Over the next half hour or so, while Max, Rafe and Anna tire themselves out in the park, Magnus explains the whole situation to Alec. Alec agrees to meet Molly and adopt her baby if that’s what she wants, or to take her in and help her raise the baby, either, whatever she wants. 

Magnus calls Catarina back and arranges a meeting with Molly for a few days from now, at their home. 

Three days later, it is a bright, breezy day, oddly warm for the middle of February. Alec has just gotten back from dropping the kids off with Maryse, while Magnus stayed behind to make sure everything was perfect for Molly’s visit. She is due to arrive any minute now, and he and Alec are doing everything they can to stay calm.

At 2:00 p.m. on the dot, there is a light knock on the door and Magnus and Alec exchange nervous glances, before Magnus goes to answer the door. When he opens the door, he is struck by how young the girl standing in front of him looks. According to Catarina she is sixteen, but she barely looks it, with brown skin, long black hair falling around her shoulders and bright green eyes, she looks like she should be preparing for her first Clave Exam, not preparing to have a baby.He can’t help but think that this could be his daughter or one of his nieces in the near future, and his heart goes out to this young girl, who is doing this alone with no support from her family. He doesn’t understand parents who turn their back on their children, no matter what his kids do he will always, always love them and support them.

“You must be Molly.” Magnus says, smiling warmly at the young girl standing in front of him. 

“As far as I’m aware.” She replies with a grin. ‘Sarcastic, Rafe is going to love her.’ Magnus thinks to himself. 

“Come in and make yourself at home, we’re so glad you wanted to meet us.” Magnus says, guiding her into the living room where Alec is waiting. 

“I’m glad you agreed to meet me, I’ve considered a few other people as parents to this baby, but when Catarina showed me your profile book it just felt right, I mean the idea of my baby being raised by The Consul and The High Warlock of Brooklyn is pretty amazing.” Molly says, her hand resting on her protruding stomach. 

“I’m glad you think so, though our kids often seem to think we are the worst dad and papa in the world because we won’t let them have chocolate for breakfast, I don’t know why we let their aunts and uncles look after them anymore honestly, their grandmother feeds them properly but Alec’s brother and sister seem to only feed them junk.” Magnus says in an amused tone.Though really he can’t complain, the last time he and Alec looked after Mina, Tessa had nearly throttled him when he sent Mina back hyper as hell.

“You’ll have to excuse my husband being a hypocrite Molly, a few weeks ago we were looking after one of our nieces and Magnus gave her basically all the chocolate in the house, her mother almost killed him when she found out.” Alec says in an amused tone, as Molly and Magnus walk into the living room. Molly laughs lightly and says 

“Can’t say I wouldn’t do the same, are your other children here?” Magnus indicates for her to take a seat. 

“No, they’re with my mom, we thought it would be best if this first meeting is just the three of us, but if things work out you can meet them another time.” Alec says. 

“Alright.” Molly says with a smile and a nod. “I don’t have that many questions for you, just one.” She adds. 

“What is it?” Alec asks, grasping Magnus’ hand in his. 

“Would you be okay with the adoption being open? Or at least semi-open? I want to be a part of the baby’s life, I want to be able to visit him and watch him grow up, and be there for him to ask questions when he’s older, and I don’t want the fact that he’s adopted to be a secret from him, I’m not saying I want to be his mother or anything, but I’d like to be like an Aunt to him.” Molly quietly says. She knew from the minute she found out about the baby that she couldn’t fully part with him forever, she knew placing him for adoption was the best for him, but she couldn’t hand him over and never see him again, though that’s exactly what her parents want. They wanted to send her away for the duration of the pregnancy and arrange to have the baby adopted out themselves, a closed adoption. They claimed it was for Molly’s sake and to save her reputation but she knows better, she knows it’s for their sake and that they’re ashamed of her and her baby,

“Yes we are absolutely fine with that, we never personally set out to have closed adoptions with Max, Rafe and Anna, it just worked out that way really, we know nothing about Max’s parents, he was abandoned, Rafe’s parents were killed in the Dark War with Sebastian, and Anna was abandoned too, but we’ve always been open to any form of adoption.” Magnus explains. “My friend Tessa Carstairs use to be an adoption consultant, she can help with the legal side of things.” He adds. Molly smiles and visibly relaxes. 

“Okay great, you can ask me any questions you have now.” She says, glad to have at least one worry off her mind. 

“You said ‘him’ when talking about the baby, do you know you’re having a boy?” Alec asks in a hopeful tone. He’d like to know if he and Magnus are going to have another son or daughter, he’ll be thrilled either way but he would like to know before the baby is born. 

“No I don’t know for sure, I just have a feeling he’s a boy, but if you two want to find out I’m happy to ask Brother Enoch at my next check up.” Molly replies.

“How far long are you?” Magnus asks, trying to calculate by the size of her stomach, even though he knows that’s not very accurate. When Tessa had been 6 months pregnant with Mina, Magnus had thought she was full term and asked if she was far from her due date, Tessa had almost killed him. It’s surprising Magnus is still alive, the amount of times he’s done something to warrant leaving Tessa ready to kill him.

“5 months, I’m due at the beginning of July.” Molly tells them, rubbing her bump. 

“I’m sorry if this is a sensitive issue and you don’t have to answer if you don’t  want to, but is the father in the picture?” Alec gently asks. Molly blushes and shakes her head. 

“No, I-I don’t actually know who the father is, it was a one-night stand, I don’t remember his name, what he looked like or anything, so you don’t have to worry about him.” Molly quietly says in a tone of embarrassment. 

“You don’t have to be embarrassed Molly, these things happen, it doesn’t make you a bad person or anything.” Magnus gently says. 

“I’m sorry I brought it up, I didn’t mean to upset you.” Alec softly says. 

“No it’s okay, you have a right to know.” Molly says, taking a breath to ward off the tears. 

The three of them continue to talk for another hour or so, getting to know each other and their situations. 

“Well.” Molly says an hour later, once they’ve spoken about anything and everything. “I made up my mind before I even met you, I’m choosing you as my baby’s parents.” 

“Thank you, we promise we will give your baby the most amazing life, and you can be as involved as much as you like.” Alec says in a strained tone of joy. 

“I know things aren’t great at home, you could stay with us if you like, you can stay for as long as you want, we have the room and we could take care of you and the baby.” Magnus offers, unable to not offer help to a child in need. 

“That’s very kind of you but I actually recently moved out of my parents house, I’m staying with a friend and their parents are extremely kind and good to me.” Molly says. Magnus relaxes at this, knowing he won’t have to worry about his child and the mother of his child as much. 

“Well I’m glad, but please know that our door is always open, before and after the baby is born.” Magnus gently says. Molly smiles broadly and says

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” That night, for the first time in months, Molly is able to sleep peacefully, knowing her child is going to have the most wonderful life, being raised by two of the kindest, most caring people she has ever met.

Over the next few months, Magnus and Alec tell their friends and family about the baby and start to prepare for their child’s arrival. Shortly after meeting Molly, she invited them to attend her 6 month check up with Brother Enoch, where it was confirmed she was carrying a boy. Max and Rafe are thrilled at the idea of having a little brother, though Anna isn’t too sure about it yet.  

Alec insists on decorating the nursery by hand, not allowing Magnus to use his magic to fix it up. This is the first time they’ll have a new-born, Max was almost 1 when he was adopted, Rafe was 5 and Anna was a few months old. This baby will be days old when they bring him home, and they’ll get to be there for his birth, get to hold him and love him straight away. 

While Tessa was helping Magnus, Alec and Molly with the legal side of the adoption, she offered to deliver the baby, having spent years as a midwife (Alec wondered if there was anything Tessa hadn’t done.) and delivered hundreds of babies, including her own grandchildren. Molly happily accepted and ended up having the majority of the rest of her prenatal check ups from Tessa.

They decide to name Ragnor and Tessa as the baby’s godparents. Ragnor was surprisingly good with children, Mina absolutely adores him and is always asking about her Uncle Ragnor and it never fails to make Tessa, Catarina and Magnus laugh, to see their foreboding, grumpy green friend, wrapped around the finger of a little four year old.

Right now, its the last week in  June, and Molly is due in just two weeks and Magnus and Alec are gathering together just a few last things for their son. They picked out a name a few weeks ago but decided to keep it a secret until the baby is born. 

Currently, Alec is sitting at the kitchen table with Anna in his lap, scribbling on a piece of paper, while he talks with Clary, who is sitting across from him at the table, with her and Jace’s newborn son Stephen, asleep in a sling across her chest. 

“So how’s Lucie adjusting to having Stephen around?” Alec asks, knowing that his little niece was not too happy about having a brother, when Clary was pregnant. 

“Really well actually, she adores him. I was painting the other day and had Stephen on a blanket on the floor beside me, I looked over at him at one stage and found Lucie curled up beside him, telling him stories, it was the sweetest thing I’ve ever seen.” Clary says in a fond tone, looking into the living room, where Jace is standing with Lucie on his back, her arms linked around his neck. Lucie is such a daddy’s girl, she has Jace wrapped tightly around her little finger and has done since the day she was born. Jace is a big softie when it comes to his kids, he’s happy to sit and have tea parties all day with Lucie, and he loves to sit at the piano with Stephen and play for him. Often on sleepless nights, Jace will take Stephen downstairs to the music room and play for him until he falls asleep. 

“Hopefully Anna warms up to her brother just as well, Max and Rafe can’t wait to meet him, but Anna isn’t too sure about him.” Alec says, running his hand over his daughter’s blonde curls. 

“I’m sure she will, Maryse was telling me the other day how jealous you were of Izzy when she was born.” Clary says in an amused tone. 

“Oh no, did she get out the baby pictures again?” Alec asks. Maryse loves to tell embarrassing stories about Izzy, Alec and Jace to Clary, Magnus and Simon, and the kids love hearing stories about their parents as little kids. 

“Of course, I never realized how much Jessie looks like Izzy, if you put a baby picture of the two of them side by side you could hardly tell the difference, and Stephen is his dad’s twin.” Clary says. 

“And Lucie is your twin, Jocelyn showed me your baby pictures the other day, when she and Luke were looking after the kids for us for a while.” Alec says with a smile. Little Lucie has ginger red curls like her mother, as well as her pale skin, freckles, green eyes and her bone structure, all she got from Jace it seems, are his eye shape, mouth shape and nose shape.

“Ugh of course she did, Stephen I promise I’m never going to be as embarrassing as your nana okay?” Clary coos, dropping a kiss to her son’s curly blonde head. 

Just then Alec feels a hand on his shoulder, and twists in his seat to see Magnus standing behind him.

“Hey, you okay? You look worried.” Alec gently asks, taking Magnus’ hand from his shoulder and pressing a kiss to it. 

“I just got a call from Tessa, she and Jem are with Molly, she asked them to come around because she was bleeding a bit and having pains but she wasn’t sure if it was labor or not and didn’t want to worry us if it was nothing, but Tessa’s checked her over and it is labor. They’re at the Basilias.” Alec’s eyes widen and his heart begins to race, their son is going to be born in the next couple of hours, they’re going to be parents again. 

“You guys go, I’ll call mom to come pick up the kids and Clary and I will stay with them until she gets here.” Jace says, coming up to stand beside Magnus. 

“Really? Are you sure?” Alec ask, trying to keep the panic out of his tone. 

“Positive, now go, you don’t want to miss your son’s birth.” Jace says, taking Anna from Alec and lightly shoving his parabatia toward the door.

Magnus and Alec quickly gather a few clothes and such for the baby and quickly portal to The Basilias,which is now located in New York.

When they arrive, Jem is waiting for them to show them to Molly’s room.

“Is Molly alright, is the baby alright?” Alec asks in a frantic tone filled with worry. Jem smiles understandingly, having been just as anxious and worried when Tessa was in labor with Mina. 

“They’re both fine Alec, Tessa gave Molly a painkilling spell so she’s much more comfortable, there are no problems with the baby either, come on I’ll take you into Molly.” Jem calmly says, gesturing  for Magnus and Alec to follow him.

Jem leads them into a sterile white room with an en suite bathroom, a bed,a few chairs, a tray by the bed and a nightstand. Molly is half lying half sitting in the bed, propped up by a mountain of fluffy white pillows, dressed in a white and blue hospital gown. Tessa is standing beside her, talking quietly to her.

Magnus and Alec stay with Molly throughout the rest of her labor, while Tessa and Jem come in from time to time to check up on her and the baby. 

When it comes time to push, Tessa sits at the bottom of the bed, ready to deliver the baby, Jem stands off to the side so that he can be on hand if anything goes wrong but he’s not so close that he’s crowding Molly, and Magnus and Alec stand on either side of her. Molly grips both Magnus and Alec’s hands in hers, drawing strength and comfort from them being there. She is just so glad she isn’t doing this alone.

Her labor is long and painful and as the time goes on, the painkilling spell begins to wear off and Molly begins to feel almost everything, while growing more and more tired, feeling like it will never be over. 

“Oh God I can’t do this anymore.” Molly weakly says, as the contraction eases and she leans back into the pillows, grimacing in pain. 

“Of course you can, I know how difficult this is for you and how painful it is, but you are so close, I can see the baby’s head, you’re almost there now.” Tessa gently reassures her. 

“You’re doing so well Molly, like Tessa said it will be over soon, then your life can go back to normal, you won’t have to deal with all this pain and morning sickness and all that anymore.” Alec gently says, squeezing her hand encouragingly, trying his best to be helpful. He’d never been present for any birth before, he had no idea how to comfort a laboring mother. He knew he should’ve asked Jace for advice, even though he was more of a wreck during Lucie and Stephen’s births than Clary was. Maybe he should’ve gone to Jem, or Simon.

“I just want it to be over.” Molly weakly says in a teary tone, her breath hitching in her throat as another contraction hits.

“I know darling I know, and it will be soon, and it will be all worth it, I promise you it will, I know this isn’t a typical situation but you will get to be in your baby’s life, you’ll get to hold him and love him as much as you want, while carrying on with your own life, knowing that he’s in good hands.” Magnus calmly says, rubbing soothing circles on Molly’s back. He can’t imagine how bittersweet this moment must be for her, not long from now she’ll get to meet and hold her baby, but she’ll also be placing him with someone else, unless she changes her mind at the last second, which is something Magnus has been worried about for the last 4 months. 

At 4:21 p.m. on the 16th of June 2016, Molly gives birth to a beautiful healthy baby boy, who looks just like her, with tanned skin, a mop of black hair and vibrant green eyes. 

“By The Angel, he’s perfect.” Alec says in a breathy tone, gently stroking his son’s bloody cheek, once Tessa has laid the baby on a blanket on Molly’s chest. 

“Molly you did so well, you are absolutely amazing biscuit.” Magnus softly says, gently squeezing her hand and brushing her hair back from her face. Normally Magnus reserves that nickname for Clary, but he has a feeling he and Molly will grow to be as close as he and Clary, and the nickname suits her.

“Thanks.” Molly says in a breathy tone, still trying to catch her breath, feeling as though she’s just run a marathon. 

"Hello little one, your siblings are going to adore you, and your grandma is going to spoil you rotten.” Magnus quietly says, turning to look at his son. 

“Anna is going to be so mad she’s still the only girl.” Alec says in an amused tone, knowing how much Anna wanted a sister, she thought it was only fair that the baby be a girl, since she already had two brothers.

“Do you want to hold him?” Molly asks, once Tessa has helped her wrap the baby up to keep him warm. 

“You hold him first Alexander.” Magnus says. Alec carefully and expertly gathers the baby into his arms, and is instantly brought back to the first time he held Max, then Rafe and then Anna. Holding his son he feels a sense of peace settle over him, and somehow he knows that his family is complete. 

“Hi baby, I love you.” Alec quietly says, taking the baby’s tiny hand in his and pressing a kiss to it. 

“What are you going to call him?” Molly asks, as Magnus joins Alec and slips an arm around him and their son. 

“You tell her.” Alec encourages his husband, stroking the baby’s hand with his thumb. 

Magnus looks from his baby to Molly and proudly says

“Henry, his name is Henry Jonathan Lightwood-Bane.” 

“Oh, after our Henry?” Tessa quietly asks in a tight tone, as Jem slips an arm around her waist in an attempt to comfort her. Magnus smiles sadly and nods, grieving for his old friend. 

“Yes, Henry was one of the greatest friends I ever had, he was a wonderful man and I can only hope my son grows up to be like him too.”  He quietly says, looking down at little Henry in Alec’s arms. 

“He’d be honored Magnus, and with parents like you and Alec, you can be sure he’ll grow up to a wonderful young man.” Jem kindly says, which makes his wife tear up even more. 

“And you say you don’t have a way with words, James Carstairs.” Jem laughs lightly and presses a kiss to his wife’s temple and whispers to her 

“Well it seems we’re going to have to come up with a different middle name for our son.” Making sure that Magnus and Alec aren’t looking, Tessa rests her hand on her belly and softly says

“Nathaniel, William Nathaniel.” 

Just a few hours later Magnus and Alec head home with Henry, with promises to send Molly lots of pictures and an open invitation for her to come visit whenever she’s ready. 

That night, back in Magnus and Alec’s loft, little Henry lays sleeping soundly in his bassinet by his parents bed, while they try and settle Anna in her new room. Half an hour after being put to bed, little Henry wakes up and starts to fuss when he realizes he’s alone. Just then two figures materialize either side of his bassinet. On his right is a tall thin man, with kind hazel eyes and wild ginger hair, dressed in a white shirt, a red waistcoat and black trousers. On the left of the bassinet, is a small thin woman with flowing brown hair and kind brown eyes, dressed in a flowing teal evening gown, that looks like it’s from the Victorian Era. 

“Shh little one you’re alright, don’t cry sweet boy, you’re safe.” Charlotte Fairchild soothes the baby, reaching out to stroke his cheek. 

“He’s beautiful.” Henry Fairchild quietly says, marveling at the tiny creature in the bassinet, bringing him back to when his boys were little. 

“Oh he really is, I can’t believe it’s been so long since our boys were this little, or our girls for that matter. Oh Henry can you believe they named him after you?” Charlotte asks in an excited tone. She and Henry had been shocked when they learned this little boy’s name from Will, who would often come and go to see Mina and Kit. Henry was and is honored and delighted that his old friend still thinks about him and has named his son after him.

“No I’m still rather shocked, but delighted. I’m so happy for Magnus Lottie, he was so miserable for so long before he met Alec.” Henry softly says, smiling down at the little baby. 

“Me too, Alexander is so like Gideon, and he looks so much like Will, it must hurt Tessa terribly.” Charlotte says in a concerned tone. She’s always looked out for her Tessa, and has always worried about her, even though Jem has always been there to keep her safe and Tessa is more than capable of protecting herself.  

“Our Tessa is stronger than that, she has learned how to cope with her grief, the sight of anything that reminds her of Will no longer drives her into despair and she’s happy now too, now she has Jem, Christopher and Mina.” Henry says. 

“True enough, now we better get this fussy little boy settled, if he’s anything like his name sake he should be dead to the world in no time, isn’t that right sweet boy?” Charlotte coos, smiling as the baby grabs at her hand and stares up at her in awe. Henry smiles warmly at his wife and says 

“Where did you think Matthew got his ability to sleep through anything, from? But you’re right as usual Lottie, you should sing to him, our four always loved when you sang to them.” Henry suggests. 

“Well it’s been years since I’ve sang a lullaby, but I suppose I could try.” Charlotte shyly says. 

In no time at all, Little Henry starts to drift off to the sound of his Aunty Charlotte’s voice, while his Uncle Henry sits beside him and holds his little hand, assuring him that he’s not alone. 

#Magnus Bane #Alec Lightwood #alexander lightwood #Magnus x Alec #malec #magnus lightwood bane #alec lightwood-bane #rafael lightwood-bane #max lightwood bane #anna lightwood #henry branwell #Malec Baby #charlotte fairchild #tessa gray #will herondale #william herondale #jem carstairs #james carstairs #Mina Carstairs #wilhelmina carstairs #jemxtessa #WillxTessa #Wessa #jessa #jessa baby #baby carstairs #kit herondale #christopher herondale #kit rook #Jace Wayland

[bae-roman]

I need the Nadia profile HC from you. Like her age, temperament, how she treats Roman and bunny, her powers etc

* Sorry this took SO long girly! I hope it was worth the wait! 

In the bunny x Roman AU, season 2 didn’t happen

Her temperament/ how she treats Roman and Bunny

I think that at some point, as Nadia got a bit older Roman became a more aware of what he was doing and more comfortable with being a father so once he stopped keeping her in a soundproofed box for a room, and started to actually act more like a father than a warden, him and Nadia became a lot closer.

Don’t get me wrong, he didn’t turn into super dad or anything like that, he still had nannies there 24/7 but he now did a lot more. The main thing was bedtime, he always tried to be home to put her to bed for the night.

So once those changes took place, Nadia became such a sweet little baby.  She was always so smiley and giggly and was SUCH a daddy’s girl.

Once she started walking, she would literally tail Roman around the house and clung to him whenever she could, it was adorable. The only time she really had tantrums were around bedtime or when Roman had to leave.

Anywayssss by the time she met Bunny, she was around 14 months. I won’t go into much detail about how they first met because I talk about that in another request I’m working on but Nadia really is such a charmer and Bunny loves babies, so it goes quite smoothly.  

Nadia bonds to Bunny pretty quickly and vice versa, and by the time they actually meet Roman is already sure of his feelings for her so it was only a matter of time until Bunny moved in.

So ok skip to Bunny living with them for a bit, and she is basically Nadia’s mother at this point. She loves her so much and Nadia completely recognizes her as a primary caregiver. She is still 100% a daddy’s girl though.

Also, Nadia is like… really smart. We’ve all seen the part in HG where she spelt her name in blocks so going along with that, I HC that by the time she’s 2, she is fully capable of reading books means for kids much older and there are have been a few occasions where either Bunny or Roman had absentmindedly been adding something up out loud and before they can total it, Nadia just yells out “7,238.”

Nadia has always been significantly more cognitively developed than other children her age but Roman had never been around babies so he genuinely had no idea. Then when Bunny first comes along she’s so shocked because “Roman… your baby is a genius” and in response he just shrugs and is like, “Godfrey genes” and she has to literally show him the developmental checklist of where most 2 year olds are at and where Nadia is at before he actually realizes that this isn’t normal.

So by the time Nadia is just a little older than 2 years old, she’s calling bunny mommy.

There is also totally a period where Nadia started to call her Bunny too because Roman rarely uses her real name anymore.

I feel like Bunny is also much more of a hands on parent. Like Roman has never changed a diaper, and though he has been trying to get better, and has had a drastic difference because Bunny kinda gave him shit once, she’s usually the one to give her bath time and feed her in the mornings before work, etc. They no longer have round the clock nannies anymore though, just the one to watch her while they are both away from the house. Once Bunny and/or Roman get home, the nanny leaves.

Nadia as a sibling

So when Roman and Bunny have their son, both Roman and Bunny are shocked that Bunny doesn’t return after her maternity leave. Nadia, of course, loves this though. At this point, they let the nanny go, it’s just Bunny and Roman and the kids.

Nadia absolutely adores her baby brother. She’s a little upset when he’s first born because she can’t play with him yet but when Bunny and Roman tell her that she can read to him? She’s THRILLED.

Nadia loves to read from a young age and adores being in the spotlight so the fact that she now has an audience to read to? Amazing.

Of course, there is a bit of jealousy that comes along with no longer being the only child, but Bunny always makes a point to involve Nadia in everything she does with the new baby and Nadia loves it.

She even likes to watch Bunny change his diaper and always asks if she can do it.

She is the typical bossy older sister. As he gets older, she likes to teach her brother how to do everything and is really just so so sweet and caring with him.

This applies to all her other siblings as well. The older she gets, the more responsibility she takes on with them, and not because Roman and Bunny expect her to at all. She loves to teach them anything new and playing their little games with them. 

Growing up

So later on when the she starts pre-school, she thrives. Roman has to do the eye-thing to the teacher because a few days in, she calls him and Bunny in because Nadia is like this wunderkind and the last thing Nadia needs is to be studied by experts. This becomes a yearly occurrence.

Nadia really thrives at school though, not even just academically but socially as well. She’s so friendly and loves that she gets to play with other kids her age for the first time so she quickly becomes quite the social butterfly.

This is a trait she carries with her throughout her life.

As Nadia gets older, she develops a strong interest in the arts. Bunny put her in Ballet as a young kid and it’s something she still enjoys as she gets older. She loves to paint and draw and actually becomes quite good at it. As the years go on, more and more of the Godfrey house becomes covered in her paintings. She also plays the flute, piano and violin.

Like everyone else, she has her rough stages. Things get especially touchy when she starts to ask about her birth mom.

Roman and Bunny struggled quite a bit about what to do when this question inevitably came up. Bunny told Roman it was really up to him how much he wanted to tell her and they both agreed that knowing the true cause of her birth would do no one any good. Letha was never kept a secret, there was a framed picture of her in Nadia’s room and it had never been a secret that Bunny wasn’t her biological mother. Nadia wasn’t one to hold back on asking something she wanted to know, so when she was around 12 she finally asked them about her birth mother. The story Roman chose to tell her was that he and Letha were cousins. When Letha got pregnant, she didn’t tell anyone who the father was. When she finally had Nadia, she loved her more than anything but died a few weeks later due to an illness completely unrelated to Nadia’s birth (they didn’t want to even risk a chance that Nadia would blame herself for Letha’s death). After Letha died, Roman took her in and raised her as his own.

Of course this was… distressing for Nadia to hear, but she had to know sooner or later. She would always struggle a bit with this topic but as she got older, knew that no matter what, Roman and Bunny were her parents. 

Roman being her biological father was something she would never find out.

Powers/skills

In terms of powers, since season 2/3 didn’t happen they didn’t know about her whole eyes will kill you thing that early on. It wasn’t until she was maybe 5 that they learned about it. The eye thing only made itself apparent when she was in serious danger. This hadn’t really happened until one day when a rabid raccoon managed to get into the yard while she and her brother were playing. It snuck up to them so quickly that Bunny didn’t even see it until after Nadia had already killed it. When Bunny ran over to check on the kids, she saw Nadia with a single stream of blood coming from her nose.

Later that night, Roman and Bunny questioned her about it but of course, she didn’t really know how to describe it. Just that “it was going to hurt me and baby brother so I made him stop with my head”

They took her to Pryce to run some tests and found out about her ability. The last thing they wanted was for a young child to be able to literally kill people with her mind so Roman had to end up doing his eye thing to her. He mesmerized her so that she would never do it unless she was in imminent danger and there was absolutely no other option.

So on top of that, she had an eidetic memory. She was cognitively advantaged and was able to easily pick up and excel at many skills, especially anything that had to do with like learning techniques.

She also had all the other upir powers like super strength after she fully transformed into and upir. She was never able to do the whole eye hypnotizing thing though.

Overall, Nadia was just a really happy, easy kid. She gave them false confidence in having more babies because she was just so perfect and then when her siblings came along, they were all such handfuls and Roman and Bunny were like wtf.

Roman would later confess to Bunny that he was SO relieved she turned out to be this wonderful happy kid because he was so terrified that the way he had handled her the first year of her life had ruined her.

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