Matilda's Imagines

War, Part 2

By the next morning, the team had fully committed to the bit.

The glitter, the pink, the swapped socks — all just the beginning.

Y/n, of course, came to breakfast whistling innocently. Her cleats were still slightly pink. Her hoodie read "Prank Legend," and she wore it like a badge of honor.

Everyone side-eyed her.

She side-eyed right back.

It was silent warfare. Chaos in disguise.

Kyra leaned over her cereal, murmuring, "How long do you think until she cracks?"

"She's got the resilience of a raccoon in a bin fight," Macca whispered. "We need escalation."

"She stole my left boot this morning," Caitlin added flatly. "Just the left."

Y/n, two chairs down, waved sweetly. "You dropped it."

Mini sipped her coffee like a judge presiding over a very unserious courtroom. "Lani, you're up next."

Lani grinned.

𓆉

Stage 4: Psychological Warfare, Part II

It started with the mirror.

Y/n walked into the bathroom and screamed. Her face... was green.

Face mask paint. Neon slime green. A very effective prank, if you didn't know about Lani's hidden artistic talents.

Then came the locker message: "Nice try. Try harder. –Your Older Sisters"

And then, her favorite hoodie? Replaced with one that said "World's Most Suspect."

Y/n narrowed her eyes at Kyra.

Kyra just said, "You wore it too well."

𓆉

Stage 5: The Betrayal

Y/n's ADHD brain was pinging on all frequencies — trying to outthink them, predict their next move, plan her own revenge — when Mini called her into the gym for "extra rehab drills."

Totally normal.

Except the medicine ball was filled with rice.

And the treadmill? It started moving backwards.

Y/n flailed, nearly face-planting into the mat as Macca and Lani peeked in from the doorway, snickering.

"Mini!" Y/n wailed.

Mini didn't even look up from her clipboard. "You made me step in marshmallows. This is fair."

Y/n, breathless, looked between them all. "You people are evil."

"We learned from the best," Caitlin grinned.

𓆉

But it wasn't over.

Because Stage 6 was coming. And Stage 6 was personal.

Y/n walked into her dorm that night, exhausted from training, ready to collapse into bed—

And stopped cold.

Her entire room had been replaced with... bubble wrap.

The floor. The bed. The walls. Even the toilet seat.

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Everywhere.

On her pillow sat a note:

"To Our Chaos Queen,
With love,
Your Court of Retribution ❤️"

Y/n blinked.

Then cackled.

It echoed through the hallway, followed immediately by a flurry of pops as she face-planted into the bubble-wrapped mattress.

𓆉

Later that night, as the team settled into the common room with snacks and hot chocolate, Y/n padded in, still wearing a crown made of bubble wrap.

Kyra scooted over. "You surrendering?"

Y/n flopped beside her. "Nope. I'm regrouping."

Macca tossed her a marshmallow. "Respect."

Caitlin grinned. "What's next, then?"

Y/n smirked, eyes glinting.

"You'll see."

Mini raised an eyebrow. "As long as it doesn't involve crickets in my coffee."

Y/n batted her eyelashes. "Would I do that?"

Mini didn't blink. "I've already checked twice."

The room burst into laughter.

And right there, surrounded by glitter-covered cleats, inside jokes, and her ridiculous, prank-hungry team, Y/n felt it again — that warm, weird, safe feeling.

Family.

And this time?

It sparkled just a little more.

Literally.

Because Kyra had dumped a packet of glitter in her hoodie again.

𓆉