#THE CREASE IN THE PANTLEG

[lock-my-feelings-in-a-jar]

[swamp-chicken]

im kissing u on the mouth. ethubs and 17

Time 2 Go - Matilda Marigolds

Oh, I think it's time to go Your hands are washing over me so slow And I, I watch you go

Dusk deepened into night and Bdubs sat unmoving. Silent, watchful, head propped on his knees. It started snowing but he didn’t shiver. He didn’t even feel the cold. 

There was a light in the distance. Bdubs watched it approach, waited until it resolved into a figure holding a flickering torch, waited until he was sure it was Etho, his face glowing in the flame, his brow creased with shadows.

Only then could Bdubs relax. 

Etho drew near and crouched beside the body at Bdubs’ feet. He placed the torch carefully beside him and began his investigation. He lay two fingers on the body’s wrist but there was no pulse. He placed his hand in front of the body’s mouth but there was no breath. The arrow jutting out of its back looked like a carnival flag, fletched in red. 

Etho broke the arrow with a snap. 

The snow was coming heavier now, falling in eddies. Etho swung off his cloak, lay it on the ground. Unstrung his waterskin, laid that out too. 

He knelt beside the body and heaved, his breath rasping sharply against the air. The body rolled onto the cloak. 

There was blood around its mouth. Bdubs didn’t remember that part. 

Etho ran his hand through its hair, combed out the burrs and the leaves. He straightened out its bandanna, brushed the flaking mud off its pantlegs. Then he delicately tipped the waterskin on to his handkerchief, dampening it. He wiped at the blood until its face was clean.

When Etho finished, he sat back on his heels. There was shouting in the distance. It wasn’t safe to be out here, alone. Bdubs wished Etho would get a move on. 

But Etho sat there a moment more, expression unreadable. “I’ll win it for you, Bdubs,” he said, finally, and Bdubs snorted. 

Etho stood, stretched, craned his neck upwards. 

Bdubs stood too, mirroring him. There wasn’t much to see up there, just clouds. Falling snow.

“Even though you didn’t win it for me.” 

His voice was warm, warm against the cold night. He laughed at his own joke.

“Just kidding. I love you.”

Bdubs laughed too.

[sissytobitch10seconds]

Seventeen Years

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Summary: Five finds something in the back of his closet. Warnings: Canon trauma and PTSD Word Count: 1,014 Ship(s): Five Hargreeves & The Umbrella Academy

Archive link!

A/N: So I got this off of a tumblr post I saw from @frozenwafflesagain and she very graciously allowed me to write a fanfiction about it! I just got this idea of Five in my head and then it wouldn't leave me alone. I hope that you all enjoy this little drabble and please remember, like all these fics, there's no editing! Thank you all for reading. Stay sissy and bitchy everyone <3

Five was sticky with blood as he stomped into his bedroom. He was pissed that he had to change again after trying so hard to just get what he needed figured out done so he could move onto the next step of his self-assigned plan. He didn’t want the Commission sticking their nose where it didn’t belong and yet they just couldn’t seem to help themselves.

He rucked off the vest and tossed in vaguely in the direction of his hamper as he made his way over to the wardrobe. He threw open the doors so that he could get another one of the infernal uniforms that he had had to wear now because it was the only thing he could find that would fit him. They were still hanging there like they had been a few hours prior, pressed and perfectly stitched by the robotic hand of their mother.

He grabbed one of them from the hanger, yanking it forward with the kind of petulant attitude that could only be created by an adolescent body and brain that was pumped full of hormones it didn’t understand yet. The anger that boiled inside of him was almost indescribable as he realized that he was yanking without it coming anywhere because it was stuck.

He threw the hanger down onto the ground and then dug into the back of his wardrobe to figure out what it was that was preventing him to get ready for his mission this time. He paused when he caught sight of the first shimmery piece of paper though, his hand fluttering in the air.

Five reached down and carefully picked up the item that the pantleg had been stuck on, settling back on his haunches. He lowered the box down into his lap as he processed what it was.

The wrapping paper was folded with perfect creases and the ribbon was still curled, though he could see where the scissors had caught on an uneven polymer. The little tag hanging off of the center where the ribbon met together underneath a bow said: To 5, From 2

This was purchased from before Diego had chosen, he realized as the air was stollen from his lungs. This was the present that he was supposed to get when they turned fourteen, the first October that he had spent in the apocalypse. 

He collapsed on the baseboard of his wardrobe, pushing some of his shoes aside in the process so that he could fit. His fingers slipped underneath the tape that held the wrapping paper together, which was holding only because it had been shut out from the outside world for nearly seventeen years.

Inside was a plain looking book. When Five flipped it open, he saw that it was full of high quality graph paper that was all completely unmarked. The bottom even held a couple of lines in a square where notes about the day the equations were made and what they were could be written.

He turned around so that he was looking back into his wardrobe and noticed several more presents laid out. There were far more than there should have been for just the one year that he had been gone, but they were all wrapped with the signature traits that his siblings always wrapped things with and untouched.

He pulled them all out of the stack that they had been left in and tore them all open one by one. His arms couldn’t move fast enough as he reached for each new box and bag.

He didn’t notice the way that the pads of his fingers hurt from prying open taped shut cardboard boxes or running his fingers over the wrapping ribbon to get them off when he couldn’t figure out where they had been taped down. He didn’t notice the way that sobs forced their way out of his throat and into the open air of his ever unchanging bedroom with each gift that he pulled out and opened. He didn’t notice the way that tears streaked down his face and stained the front of a stuffed bear holding a knife or the front of a book by his favorite philosopher.

By the time that he finished opening each of the gifts that he had been squirreled away in the back of his closet, he had a mountain of wrapping paper, bows, ribbons, and tissue paper next to him along with an assortment of gifts to go along with them. There was a good deal of nice notebooks, ranging from the graph paper one he had opened from Diego to a set of six spiral bound ones in each of the siblings’ favorite colors. There was a handful of stuffed animals that were all strange enough that Five would have found them amusing enough to keep around. There was a set of beautiful fountain pens, as well as a thick block of chalk that he could use on his walls. He also had several books full of his favorite type of stories and studies, something that his siblings all knew he would enjoy.

They had intended to give him these gifts when he came back. They had been counting on the fact that he was still out there somewhere, waiting to make a big entrance and prove their father wrong. They had wanted him back every single birthday that they had lived at the house. That much he knew without reading the books. The existence of the books in general was enough to strip him of all the weariness that the apocalypse had caused him to gain, to make him feel rubbed raw. 

He loved his siblings more than the entire world. He had dedicated his entire life to getting back to them so that he could save them, after all. They had all seemed so apathetic and wary towards him when he came back that he had resigned himself to doing it without their help or support. After finding this cache of love and loyalty, though, one thing was perfectly clear.

They had missed him.

[hypocriticaltypwriter]

Surprises. Part One

“Mama!” Karai said as she tugged on her mother’s pantleg patiently, drawing out the ‘a’ at the end of her sentence as she stared up at her large stature.

“Why can’t we go? I wanna see the baby!” The girl’s bottom lip came out as she pouted, her big green eyes gleaming under the light of the lanterns that lit up the shared room.

Tamsin placed the final folded piece laundry into the stacked pile of t-shirts, pausing for a moment to smile a bit, looking down at the girl who awaited an answer with her large begging eyes.

“I’m sorry honey, but we just can’t have you and your brothers all in the room while Draxum works, you know how grumpy your grandpa can get when Jeremiah plays with his work tools.” Tamsin spoke softly as she reached down to place a hand atop her upset six-year-old’s head, the child grumpily shifting under her mother’s hand.

“Also, we need a strong, brave, big sister to watch Jeremiah and David for me,” Tamsin said, placing the stacks of laundry into the bin again, going to leave it for Mikey to come pick up his laundry at the door. “You know, in case any Krang come around, they’ll need a powerful warrior to protect them.”

That caught the attention of the small softshell, her grumpy creased brow lifting a bit, eyes glancing up at Tamsin, who was watching from the corner of her eye, smirking as she quirked a brow. She only turned back around and gave a dramatic sigh, hiding the goofy smile on her face from Karai’s view as the girl was now full of curiosity more than anything.

“Oh, but I guess I’ll go ask Aunt April or Aunty Cass.”

“No, no, wait!” Karai ran to her moms leg, wrapping her arms around her knee as she jumped up and down excitedly. “I wanna do it! I’ll protect them! I’m the awesome big sister!” Karai said, moving her one arm to hold it up as if this was a volunteering thing.

Tamsin grinned down at her again, shifting to hold the hamper against her hip with her arm holding it tightly to position. “Well, if you insist, I’m sure Aunt April will need the help.” She giggled, watching as Karai gave a firm nod, letting go of Tamsin as she then quickly ran out of the room to find where April would be with the boys.

Just as Karai was leaving the room, a certain Donatello was entering, quickly jumping a bit in alarm as Karai ran straight under his legs to avoid collision with her dad.

“What’s she in such a hurry for?” He asked after he came back from his double take, looking down back the hall as he watched her small figure disappear into the living room. Tamsin shrugged with a small smile, moving toward Donnie. “To help April watch the boys, no big deal.”

“Ah, so you were able to get past her puppy-dog eyes.” He retorted, turning to look at his wife as he folded his arms tightly over his chest. Tamsin’s grin turned into a cocky smirk as she placed her unoccupied hand on her hip.

“Yep. Unlike you, mister push-over.” She lifted her arm to poke the tip of his snout, making a ‘boop’ noise as she did.

Donnie’s nose reflexively scrunched up, leaning back from the distasteful touch as he shared an unamused look with Tamsin- who only stuck her tongue out at him.

“We've been married for eight years now and your antics haven’t changed since you were sixteen." He spoke plainly, but his risen brow and playful posture told Tamsin he didn’t mean any harm with his statement.

Tamsin only pushed beside Donnie to try and make it through the door way, giving a half lidded side eye as she tried to fight the smuggest look she could conceive. “You’re just jealous I still have such a character during the apocalypse.”

With that she was gently nudged in the side by Donnie’s frame, as he sent a playful glare her direction. She only snickered in response seeing as her commentary seemed to cheer his spirits. It was only when she paused in the middle of the doorway, looking between the doorframe and the outside, she was (hate to admit) a bit stuck in and the hamper that barely touched the end of the doorframe.

“Need a little help there, preggers?” Now it was Donnie’s turn to smugly watch as his wife tried to shimmy out of the doorway sideways, her surprisingly large tummy taking up a bit of it while trying to get out the laundry hamper.

Tamsin shot back a look as if that was her only defense at this point- but she looked to the side, a bit embarrassed as a warm pink dusted her face, not daring to make eye contact with her smirking husband in purple.

“Maybe…” She muttered. It’s all she needed to say before Donnie came to her aid, taking the hamper from her hands as she ushered her out of the doorway, pressing a button against the wall behind him and the mechanical door shut, leaving no sight into their room.

“Thank you.” She cooed, jokingly clasping her hands together and fluttering her eyelashes up at Donnie, who leaned down to her height and placed a quick peck to her temple. “Mhm.” Is all he responded with as Tamsin began to walk, Donnie slowing his pace bit to stay at her side.

A comfortable silence filled the hall for a second- or at least Donnie thought it was a comfortable silence. He found himself taking glances down at Tamsin, watching as she stared down at the ground, seeming to be lost in thought, lips twitching a bit as if she was quietly talking to herself.

“Something on your mind?” Donnie said, making Tamsin look back up to him a bit surprised, was her worry really that noticeable? Well, perhaps it was, but Donnie could also read her like a book- ever since they were teens.“I guess? but I’m sure it’s nothing.” She responded, placing her hands atop her large belly bump unsurely.

Donnie eyed her carefully, the natural arch in his drawn eyebrows creasing nervously, finding a hand warily reaching toward her unsurely. “Baby?” He asked, his tone stern but soft and quiet so as to not put her on any edge if she was already.

Tamsin paused for a minute, licking her lips as she tried to find the right words but only gave a small nod. “But- not how you think! I’m okay.” She was quick to add, putting her hands up in defense before taking Donnie’s reached out one. Donnie only looked down her her small hands holding his much larger, looking back up at her with a look only Tamsin could read as: He didn’t believe her.

“I’m just a bit on edge. I don’t know how to explain it, but-” She stopped for another moment, obviously trying to figure out how to explain herself, absentmindedly tracing the scars on Donnie’s hand with her fingers as her mind wracked for an answer to her own question.

It only ended her her removing her hands and placing them to her tummy.

“Big.”

Donnie just stared at her, looking at her stomach and back at her face to see if this was some sort of joke or test.

“…I still think you’re as stunning as ever?” Donnie stated confused, which earned him a glare and a defeated sigh.

“Wh- no, Don! I’m big! Like- not a good big. Do you remember me being this huge with any of the other kids?” She spoke placing her hands to her hips. Now it was Donnie’s turn to look away, a hand to his chin as he thought back to when she was pregnant with Karai, Jerimiah, or David. “Not… Particularly, no. Why?”

“I’m scared there could be something wrong. What if I did something and it’s hurt? Could it be some- mutant thing? Even if it is I was perfectly normal with Karai… Am I prepared for this?” As the wave of rambles finally flooded Tamsin’s brain she did the thing she was best at: doubt.

“Tam,” Donnie cut her off as he held a hand in front of him to stop her- to which she obeyed, mouth shutting tightly as her lips formed a tight line. “I’m not the expert as much as I wish to be, but pregnancy is different for everyone and it’s different every time.” He watched Tamsin shift her weight from one foot to the other, looking around at the walls, ground, anywhere but him with a scared expression, causing Donnie’s voice and demeanor to soften.

With a slow sigh, Donnie stepped warily to the side, setting down the laundry hamper and making slow steps toward Tamsin’s figure, watching as she slowly stopped to stare bashfully at the ground, twisting the wedding band on her finger nervously as she heard the creaking steps that groaned out from the ground as Donnie stepped closer.

“I know it’s scary- even if it’s happened what? Three times by now?” He spoke a bit lightly grabbing her shoulders softly and rubbing circles into them gently. He felt a small twitch and the end of his lips as he earned a dry chuckle and a small nod from Tamsin, who still kept her head down.

“All I know is that you’re ready- probably more than any of us, including myself. You always have been. So no matter what’s going on, we’ll get through it. It’s just a matter of trial and error, okay?” He slowly moved his hands from her shoulders and up her neck, carefully cupping her face, lifting it up for him to see.

She had a smile, but it was eminent in her eyes the worry wasn’t gone- it never would leave, even when she was old and her children would be grown adults, she’d never stop worrying, it’s what a parent does.

“If your scared, we’ll talk to Draxum about it. We should be seeing right now as a matter of fact.” He spoke, removing his hands but keeping out to her face and sliding down her back to spin her back in the direction of where they were once head, pushing her a bit to get going.

“Right… Right, let’s do this!” Tamsin said, mostly to herself as she began walking, Donnie moving his hand from her back and taking hers into his. She looked down at their intertwined hands and smiled softly, looking back up at the softshell mutant who stared down the hall with a neutral face.

“I don’t know how you stay so calm through all of this.” Tamsin sighed, tracing her thumb against the back of his hand.

“Oh, I’m petrified right now.” Donnie responded with such a plain, blunt tone it put his natural tone to shame.

♡٨ﮩ٨ﮩﮩ٨ﮩﮩ٨ﮩ ﮩ٨ﮩﮩ٨ﮩﮩ٨ﮩ٨♡

Hey everyone! Hope you've been enjoying and liking the little peeks into Tam and Don's life! I'm actually enjoying myself with writing things and let me know what you guys think in the comments or an ask!

TYSM for the support on all my other writing works- those blew up FAST so I appreciate the support! :]

I should be posting the second part here soon so be on the look out~! 💜💜💜

💜Part two here!💜

[tsaescii]

got some bootcut jeans from goodwill and i noticed that the pantlegs have vertical creases in them from someone folding them to fit in their boots 🤨

[dcbutinamrev]

Surprise?

Based on @illdrawmywayout little comic they did for John's birthday. Happy birthday John!! (Also let the family know about Ham and Laurens' relationship and let them be married in this. LET THEM BE HAPPY FOR ONCE- )

~~~

Laurens wakes with an ache in his chest. As he's slowly coming out of sleep, he feels his brows furrow together, his lips pinched tight as he rolls over onto his side. Instinctively, without opening his eyes, he reaches over in hopes to loop his arm around his dear Hamilton, who'd have his back pressed against his chest in their shared bed in their bedroom. But frowns when he feels only the bedsheets and not a small waist to grip.

Confused, Laurens cracks one eye open, grimacing at the brightness shining through their window. But when his bleary vision clears, he frowns deeper than before when he sees no Alexander Hamilton before him. He sees no dark red hair flowing about on the pillow, no lips half parted for him to steal a kiss or two, no deep violet-blue eyes to get lost into, no small and delicate frame to roam his strong hands over. Just a flipped over bedsheet and the empty side of their bed.

Laurens props himself up on one elbow, his elbow causing the sheets to form a crease. His honey-blonde hair pulled out from its typical ponytail the night before, it flows around him like a golden halo. Laurens furrows his brows as his vision becomes blurry again and pats his cheeks as they still feel heavy with sleep. Laurens glances around him, wondering if Hamilton may be at his desk, working again. Though it shouldn't be a surprise to Laurens if he were. He'd witnessed Hamilton being seated at his desk with a feathered quill in hand and muttering to himself as he shook his head, hissing a curse as he scratches somehthing he had written on the parchment before him, puffing out a breath of annoyance and stress. Laurens had witnessed many times of Hamilton being seated there and never once taking a break. He had once witnessed the redheaded boy still being at the desk from the night before, never once went to bed like he'd promised. Laurens smiles softly at the memory, but frowns when he sees no Hamilton in their bedroom in sight.

In fact, it's quiet in their new headquarters in Morristown, New Jersey. Having left Valley Forge several months before. Laurens bites his lip, rubbing the grogginess he feels with the heel of his palm and grunting as he shifts into a sitting position. Laurens glances at the Grandfather clock mounted against the wall between their closed bedroom door, his eyes widening at the time. It's near nine in the morning. He has never been the one to sleep in. He has never slept in.

Fear for which punishment he'll recive from General Washington himself, he flips the sheets off and swing his legs around, not even bothering to make the bed. Huffing and puffing with his heart beating in his chest like drums, Laurens stumbles over his bare feet, muttering curses as he flings the closet door open to reveal his Continental uniform. Slipping off his linen nightshirt, Laurens slips on his white, loose hunting shirt, buttoning up quickly before reaching for his breeches next and as he slips one leg through he hobbles on the other, muttering curses as he struggles to pull the pantleg up towards his pelvis. Once that leg is through, Laurens repeats the process on the other side, nearly collapsing onto the ground after having bumped into the dresser. With that completed, he then yanks on his stockings and grabs his waistcoat, his fingers fumbling over themsleves as he buttons them up.

Laurens grabs his buff blue coat from the back of the desk chair, quickly sliding his arms through as he rushes around the room in search for his black boots, muttering sharp curses under his breath as he tosses both his and Hamilton's items from the small corner. But he frowns, his hysteria pausing for a moment when he sees a piece of folded paper before him. Tilting his head curiously, Laurens furrows his brows and mutters a soft "Huh" as he picks up the paper from the ground, turning around to unfold it.

"Follow the pieces of folded paper, there'll be a riddle on each piece as to where you'll find me. -- A. Ham."

Laurens clicks his teeth, a small chuckle escaping him as he nods, folding the paper back into his pocket and dusts his hands together as he scans the room for any other pieces of paper. "Alright, Hamilton. I see your little game..."

Laurens turns to make the bed, one less thing the servants, such as Billy Lee, will have to do. But as he folds the sheets over to tuck them into the corner, Laurens notices yet another folded piece of paper. It's a bit wrinkled from perhaps where he must have slept on it but takes it nonetheless. Smoothing out the creases, Laurens unfolds this piece of paper and tilts his head as he slowly reads to himself:

"In many hallyways, you would stand if not with me in hand. What am I?"

Laurens furrows his brows again, but the corners of his lips qurik up as he lifts his head to search about the room. "Oh, Alexander..."

Laurens folds the paper back into squares and slides it into his pocket before quickly finishing making the bed and head towards the closed bedroom door. He swings it open, grimacing at the sharp creak it makes as he pokes his head around the corner. Forgetting the question already, Laurens pulls it out again and rereads it before looking up and down the hallway.

"In many hallways, you would stand if not with me in hand...what am I?" Laurens repeats.

He glancs up again, finally having the courage to step through the door and out into the open, before letting it click shut behind him. He stares at the keyhole in the door, his brain churning with many ideas but could never seem to pick the right one.

"I'm standing in a hallway," Laurens whispers to himself. He repeats the riddle again. "In many ways, you would stand if not with me in hand...what am I...?" A pause. "Oh, Alexander. You clever little--" It's then does Laurens' face lights up and he breathes in sharply. "A key!"

Laurens whips his head up sharply, glancing up and down the hall, running about back and forth, lifting things up and quickly putting it back down. After what seems like an eternity of searching, around twenty minutes later, Laurens finds the golden key with a note tied to it. He yanks the paper free and unfolds it.

"I am all dressed up but no where to go. What am I?" Laurens folds the paper again and looks up. It takes him a moment, but his face lights up again when he gasps: "Closet."

Laurens runs back into his bedroom, flinging the closet door open, looking up and down, left and right, shifting through nightshirts and uniforms and no note seems to be there. He slams this one shut before running towards the end of the hallway, flinging the door open and doing the same: shifting through cloaks and nightcowns and other unifroms, etc. He grumbles low under his breath when he finds no note in this closet and slams it shut, grimacing when it he realizes he shuts it a bit too hard.

"Colonel Laurens," says a grave, deep, Southern voice Laurens knows all too well.

Laurens stills, breathing in deeply and biting his lower lip, his bright blue eyes widening as he stiffens, squaring his shoulders. He could feel His Excellency's General Washington's presence behind him. He doesn't need to turn around. But for respectful reasons, he does and bows instantly with his arms glued at his sides.

"Your Excellency sir," Laurens says as stern and calm as he can.

"What on Earth are you doing?" Washington demands.

Laurens stands back up, his cheeks feeling warm. "Oh um...well...it seems my Alexander has left me some riddles to solve..."

Washington grins. "Oh, yes. Your husband has quite the mind."

"Apperantly so," Laurens agrees. "Say, uh, Your Excellency, sir?"

Washington quirks an eyebrow, an amused grin on his face. Laurens continues. "Speaking of my husband, do you happen to know where he may be?"

Washington scoffs out a laugh, shaking his head. "That is not my question to answer. That is for you to find out, Laurens."

Laurens puffs out a breath as soon as Washington turns to leave. His tense shoulders slump before he continues searching through closetas until he comes upon another riddle. He grins, shaking his head as he unfolds it and mutters, "I feel like a child..." before reading:

"What room is useless for a ghost?" Laurens says. He titls his head back up, glacning around him in the hallway. "A room that's useless for a ghost..."

A pause.

"Ghosts are spirits of the dead..." Laurens mutters. He glances back down at the note in hand before glancing back towards the stairs. "I don't think it has anything to do with up here...so...downstairs, perhaps?"

With that thought in mind, Laurens folds the paper back up, slides it into his coat pocket before continuing down the stairs, slowly. Faintly he could hear the distant laughter coming from the others and can clearly hear Harrison's voice grumbling with annoyance. Laurens chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

"Ah, there he is!" shouts Richard Kidder Meade, bolting from his chair before collapsing into his arms. Laurens grunts with surprise as he stumbles backwards, gripping onto Meade's elbows. "The man of the hour! My God, Hamilton must have worn you out last night!"

Laurens swallows the lump down his throat as he dusts himself, scanning around the room. "W-What are you talking about, Kidder?"

"Oh, you know...about last night~" Meade says teasingly, his eyebrows wiggling.

Laurens feels himself grow warm. "Um...what about last night...?"

"Oh, you know!" Meade chirps as he pulls his chair back out to sit himself down between McHenry and Tilghman. The two snicker as Meade boasts in a horrible impression of Hamilton's voice, "Oh, Jack! Oh, Jack! Oh, Jack!"

Laurens pinches his lips together, ducking his chin towards his chest, feeling his body heat up with embarrassment. "Shut it, Kidder."

Meade only tosses both of his hands up as the others, except for Harrison of course, snicker.

"Are you well, Laurens, ami?" a familiar French voice says, instantly catching Laurens' attention. The Marquis de Lafayette sits at the foot of the table, lifting an eyebrow as he scratches out something on the parchment with his quill. "You seem to be...looking for something."

Laurens shakes his head as he enters the aide-de-camp office, pouring himself a mug of coffee from the metal pitcher. "Not something...someone..."

"Your husband, I presume?" Lafayette says.

"Yes. I haven't seen him all morning and to be fairly honest it's worrying me. This isn't typical Alexander behavior. You should know."

Lafayette nods. "Oui, I do."

"And now I can't find him and all he's left me is riddles to solve," Laurens scoff. "I feel like a five-year-old again."

Laurens pulls out the note again, rereading it and muttering: "A useless room for a ghost? My dear boy, how do you come up with these..."

Laurens turns around to face the parlor. He tilts his head, glancing back down at the note before back up again. "Useless room for a ghost...ghosts are spirits of the dead...if they're dead then..." He chuckles when he hears a lightbulb go off in his head. "The parlor...."

Laurens flips the pillows off the sofa, his hand digging into the crease between the cushions before lifting it up.

"Is...Colonel Laurens alright?" he hears Lady Washington's voice from in the office, and in his peripheral, he can see a smirk on her face.

"Oh, yes," Tilghman says. "Just missing his dear husband that's all."

At this, Laurens rolls his eyes and with all his strength, manages to pull the sofa out a bit before dropping to his knees, reaching his arm far back in hopes to find the note there. He mutters a curse when he doesn't and pushes the sofa back into place. After what feels like twenty minutes of searching, though in reality it's actually ten, Laurens finds the note tucked between the books on the shelves. He laughs with triumph as he unfolds the note and reads it out loud for all to hear: "You're almost at the very end...but this is where your guests come in..."

Lafayette chuckles, shaking his head. "Oh, mon petit lion."

Pondering about the riddle, Laurens glances up after having to read it twice and glances around him for the answer. "This is where your guests come in..."

He turns towards the front door over his shoulder, knitting his brows together before turning back towards the note in his hand. "This is where your guests come in..."

Feeling his chest squeeze with slight anxiety, Laurens gives it a shot and swings the front door open. He frowns, somewhat disappointed when he sees no one or nothing in front of him. Though, he steps out anyways and glances around him. When he still sees nothing, he makes a right towards the barn but freezes.

There, right before him, is his beloved dear boy laying upon the stacks of hay, wearing nothing but his breeches, his coat draped around him, his dark red hair flowing around him like a pool of blood, his freckles scattering across his cheeks like stars in the night sky. Laurens feels the corners of his lip quirk up when Hamilton turns towards his direction, his deep blue eyes sparkling against the candle light. Laurens huffs and crosses arms over his chest, quirking his eyebrow as he leans against the bar door.

"Oh, really?" Laurens says.

Hamilton chuckles. "Well, this is for a special occasion."

"Oh? And what might that be?" Laurens says, stepping into the barn and closing the door to the barn, walking towards the beautiful man before him.

Hamilton giggles as he sits himself up. "You, of all, should know what day this is!"

"Oh?" Laurens says. Before he could lay down beside Hamilton he freezes. "It's not...it's not our anniversary is it...?"

Hamilton shakes his head but doesn't reply. Laurens puffs out a breath of relief. Good.

"Well," Laurens growls, leaning down to steal a kiss from Hamilton's lips. Hamilton giggles as Laurens pulls away, his light, nimble fingers resting against his sharp cheek. Laurens raises an eyebrow. "Is it your birthday...?"

Hamilton shakes his head. "No, John. You forget this is October..." A pause. Hamilton trails his fingers down Laurens' light stubbled jaw. "Mine is in January..."

October... Hamilton chuckles as Laurens makes a face, a face of realization. Of course. How could he have forgotten his own birthday? Laurens sighs, mumbling an apology before pressing his lips to Hamilton's again.

"Happy birthday to my wonderful husband..." Hamilton whispers as they slowly pull back, his lips brushing against Laurens', the tips of their noses nudging agianst the other. Laurens hums as he lets his eyes slip close as Hamilton combs back a few loose strands of honey hair behind his ear. "Come...lay down...and let us gaze up at the stars...."

Laurens chuckles as he shrugs off his coat and flops down beside Hamilton in the mounds of hay behind him with a grunt. Laurens rests one arm behind his head and the other wrapping around Hamilton himself, Hamilton's head resting upon Laurens chest.

"The stars?" Laurens says, suddenly remembering there are no more stars out for it is morning.

"Oh, yes," Hamilton hums, his eyes slipping close. "There's always stars. Even during the day. They're just on the other side, fighting against us..."

"Hm," Laurens hums, combing his fingers through Hamilton's hair, resting his cheek upon the crown of his head. Hamilton shifts onto his side, resting his chin in his palm.

"They always fight against us, my dear. Day or night," Hamilton whispers.

Laurens smiles, running his hand up and down Hamilton's arm before leaning in to steal a kiss. Hamilton grunts, his hands instantly flying up to Laurens' jaws with surprise. He breathes in deeply as Laurens rolls Hamilton over flat on his back, his strong hands sliding down Hamilton's bare torso towards his breeches.

But Hamilton stops him before he could go too far. Laurens frowns with concern, glancing up at his beautiful Hamilton.

"What is it, Alex...are you alright?" Laurens says shakily.

Hamilton nods. "Y-Yes...I am...it's just...do you think we should lock the door...."

"There's no one out here, but us, my love," Laurens says, bringing Hamilton's hand up and kisses his silver ring on his finger. Hamilton smiles warmly. "Plus, you know the others know about us."

"Then continue," Hamilton says as he watches Laurens with lustful eyes. "Oh, and John?"

Laurens ticks his eyes up as he pulls Hamilton's breeches down. Hamilton grins.

"Happy birthday, my dear--"

"DEAR GOD!" a voice suddenly screeches behind them.

Laurens freezes instantly, his face paling as soon as he grips Hamilton's hips up towards him. Hamilton presses his lips together, swallowing the lump down his throat as he flushes a deep shade of red, red as his hair, and bites back a snicker, both of his hands on Laurens' bare shoulders. He slowly glances over his shoulder to find...

Of all people...

James McHenry standing in the doorway.

Shit.

"LOCK THE DOOR WILL YOU?! MY GOD--" McHenry slams the door shut, before he could finish.

"We should have locked the door, shouldn't we?" Laurens says as he turns back to Hamilton.

Hamilton leans up to steal a kiss and nods with an exasperated look on his face.

"We should have locked the door."

[alpineglowx]

I'll Do The Same {Din Djarin x OC} Chapter Six: Nevarro

pairing: din djarin x female oc

warnings: none

* * * *

“W... What?”

“Your necklace... This symbol, it’s Mandalorian.”

Thell’s brows creased, and her mouth suddenly felt dry.

“My father... was he a Mandalorian?”

“I’m not sure... This looks like Clan Eldar, but they haven’t existed for at least two decades. I don’t know why your father would have this.”

He let the necklace drop back against her tunic, but Thell could only pick it back up and stare at the gleaming metal. Her mind was ringing, her confusion suddenly turning to wonder, to curiosity. Who had her father been, truly? Was this some reason as to why her mother had never spoken about him?

But she couldn’t think about it for too long, because suddenly the ship rocked under her feet and she was thrown to the ground. Knees collided with the steel flooring, bruising her skin, but she felt strong hands pulling her up by her arms, back up to her feet. Over the haze of the vision and the loud beeping ringing inside the Razor Crest, she could just make out Mando’s mask in front of her. He was holding her shoulders, shaking her.

“Did you hear me?” He was practically yelling. “Get the kid, and get back up here!”

Thell sprang up from her seat, careening towards the staircase and throwing herself down into the cargo hold.

“Grogu!” She called, feeling the ship rock underneath her feet as she spotted the small green baby several feet from her. Once the kid was in her arms, she raced back to the cockpit, strapping him securely in the adjacent seat and fixing her belt next. The Mandalorian was strapped in as well, his gloved hands flickering over the control panel. Lights flashed above her head, and that incessant beeping continued until there was a constant buzz in Thell’s ears.

“Hey!” Thell called over the noise. “What’s going on?”

“A lone TIE fighter,” Mando explained. “He must know about the kid... hold on.”

With a jerk of his wrist, the Razor Crest plowed forward, diving in an arc that caused Thell to become pressed up against the seat. The next moment, it lurched backwards, and nausea rose in her throat. The beeping had stopped, but Thell could hear the excited squeals of the child beside her. At the moment that the Razor Crest flew stable again, she cast a glance to her side: the kid had his tiny hands raised, his large eyes scrunched in pure joy. She would have laughed, would have nearly smiled had a loud explosion above her head caused the ship to lurch forward again. Mando cursed, something in a language that Thell didn’t recognize, before slamming a handle up and sending them flying into hyperspace.

Thell was jerked forward again only to be slammed back against the seat, until finally, the ship lulled. The ground still vibrated beneath her feet, but they seemed safe for the moment. The beeping had stopped, but with his tense shoulders, Thell could tell that the Mandalorian was stressed. Her eyes flickered back to Grogu, who was playing happily with that same metal orb from earlier in the week.

“Mando?” Thell said softly, as not to stress him out more, and leaned forward when he didn’t reply.

“Mando, what happened?”

“He hit one of the thrusters,” he replied, but his voice was gruff as always. “We’re going to have to land before that thing blows.”

“Are we gonna be okay?” Thell asked, casting a quick glance at Grogu.

Suddenly Mando turned halfway in his seat, clasping her shoulder firmly. Something in his touch surprised Thell.

“We’ll be fine. We’re going to see some friends.”

They landed on the volcanic planet Nevarro, just outside a small village. Mando was in the cargo hold while Thell had one arm wrapped around Grogu. The Mandalorian turned back towards her, pushing a blaster in her direction.

“You won’t need it, but just in case.”

Thell eyed the weapon carefully before nodding and sticking it in a loose space in her trousers, a spot she could grab from easily.

“Mando.”

He turned slightly. “What is it?”

Her fingers found the necklace again. “Are we... Will I figure out what this is?”

“We will. Let’s just get this finished first.”

With Grogu in her arms, she followed the Mandalorian down the side ramp into the still air of Nevarro. It was surprisingly quiet for a village this size, so Thell stayed close to the Mandalorian’s side. They hadn’t ventured into many villages together, if any, and she felt surprisingly safe with him so close. She knew she could shoot if she needed to, but it was nice knowing Mando would respond first.

Waiting for them at the entrance to the village were two other humans: an older, gruff looking black man and a middle aged woman with black hair that was braided along one side. Both looked like seasoned warriors in Thell’s eyes, so she found herself slinking closer to the Mandalorian’s side. But he was calm, walking with a confidence that Thell only wished she had.

But any fear she had diminished as the man stepped closer, opening his arms in greeting.

“Mando!” He said, stepping closer to the Mandalorian. “Good to see you, old friend.”

They shook hands, all the while the man’s eyes were directed on Grogu.

“I see the baby is well taken care of,” the man said, with a mischievous look in Mando’s direction. Something passed between them, some deep, unspoken thing. With one hand on his hip, Mando motioned to Thell.

“This is Thell Sai’Lya, she’s traveling with the kid and me.” When he introduced her, pride swelled in her chest.

“Thell, this is Greef Karga.” Thell leaned forward to shake his hand, until he motioned the baby to himself.

“Ah, my little green friend!” When Thell cast an anxious look in Mando’s direction, he only dipped his head. She hesitantly passed Grogu to Karga, who gently held the kid and cooed playfully at him. The kid looked happy enough, so Thell could feel her soul become more at ease.

Mando had stepped aside, now talking to the other woman who had accompanied Karga. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but they could only talk so quietly in the soft atmosphere of the volcanic planet. Karga seemed busy as it was entertaining Grogu, who was babbling happily in his arms.

“Who’s the girl?” The woman’s voice was hard, but something about the way she dressed and held herself told Thell it was just how she normally was.

“Thell Sai’Lya. I took her on about a month ago.”

“A month?” The woman said, almost in disbelief. “Hell, Mando, I thought you didn’t like anyone but the kid.”

Thell couldn’t help but almost laugh when she saw the Mandalorian go stiff under her assuming response.

“It, it’s not like that. She’s helping with the kid.”

The woman smirked, a knowing smirk that made Thell almost feel embarrassed for the Mandalorian.

“Right, Mando, and I’m the one that’s wearing a mask,” she sneered before walking over to where they stood, looking Thell up and down. The Mandalorian slowly followed after her, keeping one hand placed on his hip. Thell watched his attention flicker back and forth between her and the kid in Karga’s arms.

“Cara Dune,” she said, extending her own hand.

The smile she gave Thell was comforting, so she stuck out her own hand.

“Thell Sai’Lya, it’s nice to meet you two.”

“We can’t stay long, but I had a run in with a TIE,” the Mandalorian explained. “Seemed to blow the right thruster all the way through. I just need repairs done.”

“I can get some men on it right away,” Karga said, with the baby still in his arms. “For now, let’s go have a drink.”

. . . .

“So, where are from, young Sai’Lya?”

Looking up from her drink, Thell made eye contact with Greef Karga, who was already looking at her expectantly.

The bar was quiet, a semi warm breeze drawn in from the open arched doorway ruffling the collar of Thell’s cloak. Cara Dune was on her other side, slouched with one arm draped over the edge of the booth, a dark colored drink in her other hand. The Mandalorian, her unusual confidante in all of this, was next to Karga, holding the child as Grogu sipped on broth.

“I’m from Bespin,” Thell answered, scrunching her fingers into her pantleg.

“Bespin, huh?” Karga added. “What were you doing all the way out there?”

“I was born there... I worked there until I met Mando.”

“And how, exactly, did you two cross paths?” Cara asked suddenly.

Thell swallowed heavily, and cast an anxious glance at the Mandalorian. Surely they knew his reputation as a bounty hunter.

“He assassinated my master and I basically begged him to take me off the planet,” Thell said, as casually as she could, before taking a large sip of her drink. To her surprise, the table had gone quiet, and she raised her head to see Cara and Karga both staring at her with their lips parted. The Mandalorian was quiet, but something about the way he rubbed his hand on the back of his neck caused Thell to wonder if he was trying to hold in a laugh.

She could feel a smile rising on her own lips, so she quickly added, “I found Grogu first. He’s the only reason why I wanted to come in the first place.”

She meant it as a joke, and she hoped Mando would catch on. Cara and Karga had definitely caught on, as they both snickered behind their drinks. To her relief, the Mandalorian seemed to relax against the booth, shrugging lightly when Thell looked his way. She wished she could see him under the helmet, whether or not he was grinning from her comment.

They stayed until the sun was setting, and the soft yellow glow of the lamps in the bar were the only thing that illuminated their faces.

“You know, he wouldn’t normally keep people on.”

Thell blinked, halfway through sipping her drink, to look up at Cara. “What do you mean?”

“Mando has always been an outsider. He prefers to do things by himself, keep to himself. It’s the life of a bounty hunter, I suppose. But as long as I’ve known Mando, he also just likes being by himself. So it surprised me after he decided to keep the kid. Risking everything for that little guy. Ever since he took him on, he’s been... warmer.”

Cara Dune shifted in her seat, resting one arm on the table so she could look at Thell clearly.

“And here he is, surprising me again, keeping yet another person with him. I’ve worked with Mando before. He doesn’t like staying in one place too long. There’s always something he has to get done. I think that goes the same for the people he’s around... He doesn’t want to become attached, so he just leaves.”

Suddenly embarrassed, Thell sipped her drink and diverted her eyes away from Cara.

“But... he has the kid. He’s had him for a while. Wouldn’t you say he’s changed, then?”

She shrugged. “The kid’s different, Thell. He... does things that none of us have ever seen before. I’m sure you’ve noticed it by now. I’ve seen that Mandalorian risk more for him than most people would for their own friends. If he’s changed, I’m surprised it's because of the kid.”

“But I wouldn’t doubt it,” Thell whispered under her breath, her gaze flickering to the Mandalorian. He sat on the other end of the table, the kid wrapped securely in his arm, the child’s whole hand grasping his gloved thumb tightly. Thell felt her heart warm just looking at them, at her strange new crew that was slowly becoming her family. She just didn’t want to think about what would happen after they finished their mission with Grogu, what that separation would mean.

“Then... why does he keep me on?” Thell asked

“Beats me. Maybe somewhere deep in that steel heart of his he’s finally wanting some company.”

“Well... he’s not too bad.”

“Hm,” she could hear Cara nearly laugh at her comment, and Thell felt blood rush to her cheeks.

“What?” She said, fixing her hair and turning back towards the warrior.

Cara was smirking, that same knowing smirk she had given Mando earlier.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Thell asked.

“Because you like him.”

If Thell could vanish, she would have, right then and there. She cast a quick side glance to see if Mando had heard, but he seemed heavily engaged in a low conversation with Karga. She scooted closer to Cara, shielding her face from Mando’s view.

“I... I don’t.”

“I see the way you look at him, and trust me, I know it’s not just because of the kid,” Cara said quietly. “You’d have to be blind not to notice.”

“I barely know the guy,” Thell pressed.

Cara’s brows raised, but the smirk remained. “C’mon, you guys have been together a month. That’s more than enough time to see how he is. He’s not too bad once you really get to know him. He has a pretty dry sense of humor if you haven’t noticed already. And he can be soft when he wants to. He just doesn’t like admitting it. I’m sure you’d like to get to know him better... wouldn’t you?”

Thell shrugged, swirling her glass. “I don’t know... I’m not sure if this is a long term thing.” When Cara’s eyes studied her thoughtfully, Thell added, “I told him I would leave once we figure out this thing with the kid.”

“Leave?” Cara asked. “I thought you said you didn’t have anywhere to go.”

Thell shrugged, slouching back against her seat. “I don’t... But I’m sure I’ll figure something out.”

“Well, if it means anything, you’re welcome to come back here.”

Thell beamed. “Thank you... that means a lot.”

Cara’s eyes drifted from Thell back over to the Mandalorian, and after a moment of deep thought, she spoke.

“From what I’ve seen, he seems to care about you too. So I wouldn’t expect to just be dropped off in the middle of nowhere once your deal is up. He wouldn’t have let you stay as long as you have if he didn’t want you around.”

Thell bit the inside of her lip, letting her mind wander. If she did like him, truly, was it worth it letting those feelings rise?

“I don’t know if there's really a point in pursuing this if we’re just going to get split up at the end of the day.”

“I wouldn’t let that-"

Cara was interrupted by the sound of two blaster shots, ones that rang in Thell’s ears. As fast as she could, she retrieved the blaster from its spot around her waist, raising it above the table. Her hands were shaking, but she had stood up, and was pointing in the direction of where the sounds had come from.

But the Mandalorian had been ahead of her, standing with his shoulders taut and his arm straight out, holding a single blaster.

A lone body lay on the floor, steam rising from the hole in his abdomen. Thell couldn’t see his face, but she knew who he was, where he came from, from the signet on his left shoulder. The symbol of an Empire supporter.

. . . .

“Must have been this.”

Cara walked back over to where Mando and Thell stood, waiting with Grogu in her arms. She passed Mando a flat circular disk, one that he turned over in his hand.

“A tracking chip.”

The Mandalorian inspected it closely. “Must have been why the TIE was after us.”

“If it's the Empire, or anyone affiliated with them, I would suggest getting out of here before more of them show up.”

“Is the ship ready?” Mando asked, nearly unfazed by Cara’s comment.

Karga wiped sweat from his brow. “Ready as she’ll ever be.”

“Good.” Then he turned back to Thell and Grogu, and she could tell he was scanning her through the helmet.

“What do you say? You still on for this?”

Thell dipped her head, not hiding her small smile. “I go where you go. Where we go.”

Her eyes fell upon Grogu, whom she snuggled closer to her and ran a hand across his large, floppy ears.

Mando said his goodbyes to Karga and Cara, but Thell lingered outside, letting her gaze rest on the falling sun. Golden rays were cast against the small metal village, illuminating the plates in an array of colors.

“Hey, kid.”

Thell turned, spotting Cara walking towards her. As soon as she was close enough, she stuck her arm out.

“Take it easy out there. I think the kid likes you,” Cara said before shaking hands with Thell again, while Grogu murmured softly against her cloak.

“And I don’t think Mr. Grumpy over there minds you too much, either.”

Thell could feel the heat in her cheeks as Cara nodded her head in the direction of the Mandalorian, who stood on the Razor Crest checking controls.

“You guys are good for each other. You balance each other out,” Cara added.

Thell huffed. “I try. Sometimes I feel like I’m talking to a statue.”

“Give it time,” Cara said with a well meaning smile. “He’ll get there.”

After saying her farewells to Cara and Karga, Thell returned back to the ship, coming to stand closely to the Mandalorian. Grogu was still in her arms, holding onto her thumbs.

“We would have been killed if you hadn’t shot that guy. You were right about this not being easy.”

“Are you backing out?” Mando asked, turning in her direction, and Thell wondered if he would miss her. “If so, Nevarro isn’t a bad place to start. Karga and Cara would help you out.”

But Thell elbowed him playfully, lightly, crossing her arms and letting her gaze linger back to the setting sun. He seemed to enjoy her boyishness, resting with one hand on his hip as his eyeline followed her’s.

“Backing out? Me?” Thell snickered, sweeping a hand through her hair. “Not yet... Besides, we made a deal. And I don’t break promises.”

[mithrilwren]

Thank you so much, @the-littlest-goblin​, who requested a bit of Beau & Caleb bonding! Here’s a little coda to an adventure not yet finished. 

(now on ao3)

---

“So, Allura.”

“Hmm?”

“Seems cool. I guess.”

Caleb peers up over the edge of his book at Beau. He’d been trying to extract the nibs of sand that had wormed their way into the crease, digging his thumb between the pages and painstakingly plucking out grain after grain. Books should not crunch when read. A few grains still cling to his nail and he rubs them onto his pantleg before answering.

“I suppose so.”

Yussa’s tower is farther off from the beach, a ten minute walk at least, but its shadow still seems to overshadow their little spot of sand. The rest of the Nein are splashing about in the surf - save Nott, who chose to spend the few hours of illusions she has with her son, back in the Lavish Chateau. Beau is sunbathing, supposedly, though Caleb doesn’t believe it - more of her tanned skin is covered now than ever, with one of Marion’s old shawls wrapped around her shoulders. It is chilly, he realizes, and only then does a shiver crawl down his spine.

“You know, for a second there, I was afraid Yussa’s ‘ally’ was gonna be one of your old pals.” Beau looks at him significantly. He rubs his hands together. All along the shore, little bonfires are beginning to spring up: a ward against the chill of the gathering evening, for those not yet ready to return to their homes. The wood must be wet, judging by the black columns of smoke that spiral into the salty air. 

He thinks of Reani, and wonders if she could teach him to produce flame that does not burn. Wonders if it would still feel the same.

“Yussa is no friend to the Empire,” he answers, and doesn’t. “He told us so, before.”

“Yeah,” says Beau, still staring. He digs his nail back into the crease of his book. “Still. You weren’t worried?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Beau lies back, her hands behind her head. “Thought you’d put up more of a fight, to be honest.”

He shrugs. “I think it was you who told me that my… ‘trauma’ does not always make me the authority on right and wrong.” Beau winces, almost imperceptibly. “It was a safe bet. A risk worth taking.”

“But you were still scared, right?”

“...Does it matter? It needed to be done. Yussa will be a great asset for us, you saw how grateful he-”

“It does matter. To me, at least.” He laughs, startled and a little less bitter than he expects. He doesn’t know how else to respond. Is he supposed to hug Beau now? Tell her the same thing? 

He’s learned, from one man at first and then from everything that came after, to treat feelings as distractions, unless they spur you towards a purpose. His fear was very useful, at one point. It kept him and Nott safe. But things are different now. They have allies, and resources, and he’s been thinking that it might be time to put it aside, add it to the pile of emotions that accomplish nothing on their own.

“Well,” he says, breathing out slowly. “Ok.”

She turns on her side, propped up on one elbow to face him. “I’m bad at this, you know. Being comforting and shit.” There’s vulnerability there in her eyes, a question unspoken. Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me I’m not fucking this up every time I open my mouth.

He had no idea how to read Beau when they first met. He misses that ignorance, sometimes, but he can’t help himself from cataloguing the chinks in her many-layered armor. That he could hurt her now, so much deeper than he could before, isn’t something he relishes.

“I know. But I appreciate it anyway.”

She smiles a little at that, then closes her eyes. Good. He turns his attention back to the bonfires, studying their twinkling light as the sun finally dips below the horizon.

“I liked her,” he decides.

“Hmm?” Beau peeks one eye open.

“Allura.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “She was pretty awesome.”

“She will regret meeting us, I think.”

“Yup.”

Beau falls silent after that, and that’s alright. There isn’t anything else that needs to be said. After a time, he looks over and finds that she’s asleep, soft snores drowned out by the crashing of the waves. He reaches over and pulls the shawl back over her shoulders, and wonders when the others will return. He’d like to get back in time to say goodnight to Nott before she and Yeza turn in, but there’s no rush. For the first time in a long time, they have nowhere they particularly need to be.

Caleb watches the fires flicker out, one by one. It’s a cold night, made colder by the ocean breeze, but there are parts of him that feel impossibly warm.

[grither55]

The Princess and the Peasant - (An Azula Epic) - Chapter 83 - The Emperor and the Orphan

About one year after parting ways with Elle.

Thump!

The bale of hay dropped to the ground beside the others with a thud while the seven-year-old panted for air.

The redhead paused for a moment as she wiped the sweat from her brow only to jump when a harsh voice rang out into the air.

"What do you think you are doing standing around like that brat! Did I say that you could stop!" The older man shouted from where he stood in front of his truck while he glared at the child's back.

Only for his anger to grow when the girl stood silent with her brown eyes gazing at the wall of the barn while he quickly made his way over.

"Answer me when I talk to you!" Henry barked just as he seized the little girl by the collar of her shirt while he pulled her around to force her to look him in the eye.

"No. You…did not." The scarlet-haired child answered in a quiet voice as she hung from the man's fist while Henry glared at her still smiling face.

Just before he coldly threw her aside not even a second later.

She hit the ground with a groan while the middle-aged man scowled down at her in unhidden contempt.

"Then don't! Every bale of hay had better be loaded into the barn by sundown or you won't be getting any dinner!" The older man announced in a callous voice before he turned to stomp away with an angered scoff.

While the little girl silently sat up with her scarlet hair overshadowing her brown eyes while her 'foster parent' stormed away.

"We should have never taken in that worthless brat." Henry muttered in a bitter voice as he walked off while the nameless child stood up with her red hair hanging in her eyes.

It was just as she told Elle.

People are cruel.

But she knew that it was pointless to dwell on what she couldn't change.

And soon enough she found herself grasping at another bale of hay with her scraped hands while she carried it across the field to its destination.

Later on, that evening.

The sound of a palm connecting with flesh split into the air as the orphan soared to the kitchen floor with a muffled yelp while Henry's drunken form loomed over her.

"I told you that I wanted every bale of hay moved into the barn by sundown!" The older man yelled in an intoxicated voice with a glower on his lips while the little girl sat on the floor nursing her bruised cheek.

And yet once again.

The nameless orphan said nothing in response as she sat in silence while the man's wife observed from her seat at the dinner table.

"Get out brat! You're not getting any dinner until you've finished your workload!" Henry ordered in a heartless voice while he glared down at the redhead as she clutched her bruised face.

Just as the child stood up a moment later with her brown eyes staring glumly down at the wooden floor before quietly walked away.

All the while as the couple stared after her turned back with unloving eyes.

Just as the door closed shut soon after.

"Henry. Eat your dinner before it gets cold. There's no use in getting worked up over the girl. She'll learn sooner or later." Caroline commented as she gazed at her husband while Henry just scowled as he took a seat once more.

"It's beyond me why we ever took in that brat." The older man grumbled as he returned to eating his meal while his wife just shook her head.

"Because we get a check for providing a 'home' to one of the refugee children from the East that's why." The older woman spoke in an insensitive voice while her husband scoffed back at her.

"I don't care how much money we get. That little freak isn't worth the trouble." Henry scoffed as he bit into his dinner while his wife sighed as she did the same.

While the orphan trudged away after hearing the couple's cruel words while her bangs once more hung in her eyes.

And once more she was forced to resume lifting bales of hay once more.

She carried bale after bale back and forth between the field and the barn.

Until several hours later.

She grunted in exhaustion only to collapse in the middle of the field with her sweat stained clothes clinging to her worn out body.

And that was where she lay panting for several minutes.

Only to turn her head in surprise when she heard voices coming from the vast field.

She spun around to gaze over the field to see the faint silhouette of smoke rising into the evening skyline.

And despite knowing that it was best to leave it alone.

She pushed herself up off the ground and broke out into a silent run towards the location of the voices.

Only to find herself jumping in alarm when the sound of a gunshot pierced the air.

The scarlet child soon hid behind a small tree as she watched with curious brown eyes to several figures attacking another person.

It was only when the moonlight shone upon their faces did her blood run cold when she recognized them as wearing the same garb as the soldiers from Rosewood!

But before she could panic over thoughts that they had come for her.

She watched with fascinated brown eyes as they were cut down one by one by a statuesque woman in a black military uniform with a black cap resting atop her head.

They fell to the ground one after another while ruthless blue eyes stared back at the final surviving soldier.

The man trembled in terror as he held onto his rifle with shaky hands only to quickly snap himself out of it a moment later.

Just as the sound of gunfire broke into the nighttime air once more.

Only for the woman's smooth chuckle to flow into the child's entranced ears just before the man's dying screams echoed over the field.

The soldier dropped to the ground with his dying eyes gazing back with a hole in his chest while the woman's white gloved hand fell back to her hip.

While the orphan gazed out with her brown eyes the size of dinner plates after witnessing the casual display of great power.

All the while as her eyes remained glued upon the light sheen of ice that now coated the bodies of the slain soldiers.

'Ice? What…what is she?' The scarlet-haired child thought as she took a silent step backwards only for her eyes to widen once more when she stepped into a cornstalk.

The sound of the plant tearing in two prompted the woman to spin around with her predatory eyes scanning the field.

All the while as the orphan now hid under the cover of the crops with her wide eyes gazing ahead.

Only to lean her head back and freeze up in her seat when she found that the back of her head was pressing against a pantleg.

The redhead fell down in a startled manner with her brown eyes gazing up to find the woman towering over her with her blue eyes gazing down at her.

Only for the monarch's glare to lessen after discovering that it was just a child.

The child said nothing as she lay there gazing up at the woman's moonlit face while she watched in bated silence as the monarch sheathed her blade.

While Rieko's cold blue eyes surveyed her closely as she gazed down at her scraped face only for her lips to crease into a frown when she saw the girl's bruised face in the moonlight.

Yet even so.

Mere seconds later her lips curved back into a confident smile while she stared down into the redhead's defiant brown eyes.

Just before she finally broke the silence.

"Hasn't anyone ever told you that it isn't polite to spy?" Rieko pondered in a sophisticated voice with her cold breath visible in the air while the child slowly backed away.

Only for her brilliant blue eyes to glance down in curiosity when the redhead quickly withdrew an item from her pocket.

Just as she found herself staring down in bewilderment when the girl flipped open a pocket knife and pointed it in her way.

"S-stay back." The little girl threatened as she held up the knife while the tall woman stared down at her with blinking blue eyes.

All the while as the woman's grin grew as she gazed down at her from above.

Just she knelt down before her with a hand on her knee while she smirked down at her.

"Are you threatening me with a pocket knife?" The emperor questioned as she loomed over the redhead while her harsh eyes took in the girl's strangely smiling face.

"A-and what if I am?" The scarlet-haired child retorted with a spark of boldness while she defiantly met the woman's amused gaze.

Only to find herself gazing up in surprise when the monarch erupted into laughter with a growing grin on her lips.

"You've got boldness kid. Pulling such a primitive blade on me. But if you're going to pull a knife at someone… then you should at least be sure that you are holding it right-side-up." Rieko remarked as she swiftly took hold of the little girl's wrist while she grinned down at the now humiliated child.

Just before she swatted the knife out of the child's hand while the redhead sunk back into the grass averting her ashamed eyes from the older female's smug gaze.

"Whatever. If you are going to kill me then just get it over with…" The little girl muttered with a margin of fear still lacing her voice while she tried her hardest to look brave under the powerful woman's cold gaze.

All the while as the uniformed woman still knelt over her with her gloved hands hanging before her scraped face.

Just as the older woman's arrogant smile creased into the slightest hint of a frown once more.

"Kill you? No kid. I am not going to kill you." The emperor commented before she stood up with her blue eyes gazing down at the redhead's surprised face.

"You're not?" The scarlet-haired child asked in a taken aback voice while the tall woman shook her head as she stared down at her.

"No. I am not." Rieko sighed as she brushed her hair from her eyes with a long-gloved finger while her cold eyes still gazed down at the child.

While she inwardly asked herself just what she was going to do with her.

Only for her blue eyes to glance up at the cloudy night skyline just as droplets of rain began to fall down upon them.

All the while as the orphan still lay on her back with rain drops cascading down her bruised cheek while she said nothing when the woman turned to peer back down at her.

"Kid. Take me someplace dry where we can get out of the rain. If you do then I will make it worth your while." The emperor commanded in an authoritative voice with her fingers grasping at her cap while rain droplets dripped down her cheek.

While her strict eyes gazed casually down at the child's taken aback face while the little girl sat up at her feet.

All the while as the orphan took on a thoughtful countenance before she wordlessly stood up.

Just before she glanced up to gaze into the towering woman's controlling eyes once more.

"Fine." The little girl agreed in a mutter while the woman cracked another grin down at her just as she turned to recollect her knife.

And soon enough the monarch began striding after the child with her thick combat boots sinking into the farm field.

While her plotting blue eyes gazed down at the small child's back as the girl guided her through a vast cornfield.

All while her beautiful lips creased into a smile.

'To think that I would stumble upon a child with such a large aura…in here of all places.' Rieko thought with her observant eyes staring down at the child's back as the redhead trekked in the rain.

Twenty minutes later…

Rieko sat lounging upon a massive stack of bales of hay with her cap now resting adjacent beside her.

And her blue eyes gazing down at the child seated uncertainly several bales away from her.

"Who are you? And how did you kill all of those soldiers?" The scarlet-haired child pondered in a curious voice while the tall woman glanced down at her with entertained blue eyes.

"Me child? I…am Rieko Oshiro…ruler of the Great Asian Empire." The emperor announced with a greatly hubristic smile as she took a bite of her apple while she gazed back into the child's stunned brown eyes.

"W-what? You're the Asian Emperor? You're lying!" The little girl blurted out in disbelief with her brown eyes staring back at the woman's arrogant face as she smirked back at her.

"I assure you kid. I am not." Rieko stated in a smug voice with her fist gripping at her apple while took another hungry bite from it.

While she gazed back at the scarlet girl's amazed face with calm blue eyes.

"If what you say is true. What is an emperor doing all the way out here on rural farmland?" The scarlet-haired child inquired in a searching voice as she stared up at the uniformed woman in awe.

The monarch's smile briefly gave way to a scowl as she turned to glance down at the awestruck little girl.

"That would be because of the hypocritical United Nations bastards who shot down my plane down in transit over said farmland…killing all but me in a cowardly assassination attempt." The emperor answered in a colder voice with her icy eyes gazing back at the child's astonished face.

The little girl stared back at Rieko's angered face with her wide brown eyes staring up at her in rising fascination.

'I thought as much. No normal person could have survived such a crash. But then again…she isn't a normal person. No. She…she is a tremendously strong person.' The scarlet-haired child thought with her eyes peering up at the military woman in admiration as her gaze drifting over the monarch's muscular build.

Only to be torn from her reverie by the woman's voice.

"And what about you kid? Who are you?" Rieko asked in a nonchalant voice as she flashed a charming smile in the child's direction while she reclined against the mound of hay.

"Don't call me kid." The little girl grumbled with a trembling smile while she rebelliously averted her eyes from the older female's amused gaze.

"Oh? How am I supposed to call you anything else when you haven't told me your name?" The emperor replied in a humored voice with a hand resting on her knee while she gazed down at the child's bruised face.

"I…don't have one." The scarlet-haired girl grumbled as she turned away from the older female's taken aback gaze.

"What? You don't have a name?" Rieko questioned repeated in a bewildered voice with a frown forming upon her lips.

Somehow that just didn't seem right.

Everyone has a name.

What sort of sick fuck would be cruel enough not to give a child a name?

Only for her blue eyes to twitch in annoyance not a moment later when a ball of hay was hurled in her direction.

"I just said I didn't! So, why do you gotta rub it in!" The little girl snapped with a spark of anger in her voice only for her to begin racing faster than usual when she took in the woman's colder stare.

"I wasn't trying to rub it in. I was attempting to be nice to you. But now you are starting to piss me off." The emperor stated while pointing a gloved finger down at the girl's face.

"Yeah. Well. I don't have one." The scarlet-haired child mumbled in a softer voice with her chin in her knees while the older woman frowned once more.

"Why is that?" Rieko inquired as she gazed down at the little girl's evidently traumatized face while she listened to the sound of the raindrops pattering upon the barn rooftop.

"At some point I had one…and I presume I had a mother too. But… somehow, I lost it all along the way. I…don't remember anything about the first few years of my life. All I have are vague images that persist in my mind but try as I might I can't put a name to their faces..." The little girl confessed in a depressed voice while the older female stared at her with marginally widened blue eyes.

The monarch leaned forward with her icy blue eyes still staring down at the child's glum face.

Even to a woman as hardened and closed off as herself.

She would be lying if she said that she didn't find the girl's words to be one of the most depressing stories that she has ever heard.

"I see. And I take it that the people that you are 'staying' with are the ones that bruised your face?" The emperor queried in a cool voice with a vapor exuding into the air as she spoke.

"Yeah. Those are my 'foster parents'. They took me in about a year ago. But it isn't because they wanted me…. they only wanted the check that they got for taking me in." The scarlet-haired child muttered with her head in her knees while she missed how the monarch's blue eyes narrowed into slits.

"I have to say. Your foster parents are about as evil as they come." Rieko spoke in a glacial voice as she sat with her boots propped up on the hay while she gazed down at the quiet redhead.

"That may be true. But so is everyone else out there." The little girl answered as she gazed down at the hay while the older woman still surveyed her intently.

"And yet…you don't seem too angry about it. Why is that?" The emperor pondered with her eyes staring back at the little girl's surprised face.

Only for the redhead to recover soon after as she gazed back into the older female's intelligent blue eyes.

"Because there is no point in getting emotional over something that I cannot change. It is just the way things are. If I stay silent…and act like it doesn't bother me then I know that they will lose interest and go find another victim." The scarlet-haired child stated with a haunted gaze while the monarch's gaze focused on her face.

"You're wrong kid. That is loser's talk. You can always your circumstances if you try hard enough. Only a weakling would accept such a fate. Are you a weakling?" Rieko remarked in an engrossing voice as she lounged upon the hay while the child glanced up at her with widening brown eyes.

"...I…. suppose I am." The little girl admitted with shame in her voice while she found herself unable to look away from the older female's absorbing blue eyes.

"That is correct. But it doesn't have to remain this way." The emperor commented as she took another bite out of her apple while the little redhead still listened in fascination.

"It doesn't?" The scarlet-haired child pondered as she sat up while the uniformed woman leaned forward with her hand on her knee.

"You can either grow strong. Or remain as you are. The choice my young friend…is completely up to you." Rieko answered in a charismatic voice as she smiled down into the child's mesmerized brown eyes.

'I can either become strong or I can remain weak…' The little girl thought with her brown eyes wide in recognition while she gazed up into the military woman's compelling blue eyes.

"What about you Rieko? I saw you kill those soldiers. You must be very strong." The scarlet-haired child spoke with admiration in her voice while the military woman's lips curved into a proud smirk.

"More than you could imagine kid." The emperor boasted as she took another satisfied bite from the fruit while she glanced down at the little girl through the corner of her eye.

Truth be told she was displeased that the child saw that.

But there was nothing to be done about it now.

"I've seen those soldiers before. Back in a village I briefly stayed in in another country a year ago. They burned the entire settlement to the ground." The little girl confessed as she listened to the rain pour down overhead while the monarch's blue eyes flickered with curiosity.

"Those spineless politicians can't even control their own lands. And yet they call me an overbearing tyrant." Rieko snorted in a conceited sneer while she smiled as the child still peered up at her in adorable awe.

"Are you…a tyrant?" The scarlet-haired child questioned in a bold voice while the older female lounged upon the hay as if it was her personal throne.

"That depends on who you ask child." The emperor began in an arrogant voice while her blue eyes shone with amusement when the little girl's face pursed in annoyance.

"I am asking you." The little girl stated as she gazed up at the woman's dimly lit face while thunder crashed outside of the barn.

"I am the answer to a world of chaos and disorder. I am the order that people so desperately need." Rieko declared in an enigmatic voice with a sanguine grin on her lips while she gazed down into the orphan's fascinated eyes.

'The answer to a world of chaos and disorder...' The scarlet-haired child thought with her brown eyes peering ahead in bewilderment while the woman smiled down at her.

As the redhead looked as if she was contemplating a reply.

The sound of a loud growl flowed into the air while the child turned away in embarrassment from the older woman's ever-present gaze.

"I take it that your foster parents didn't feed you anything for dinner." The emperor commented in a cold voice while the orphan avoided looking her in the eye.

"I…didn't move all of the bales of hay. So, he made me go without food for the night." The little girl muttered while the tall woman stared down at her with an unreadable emotion in her icy blue eyes.

Only for the child to snap her head up when an item was tossed down at her feet.

While her brown eyes widened when she found herself staring down at a bagged sandwich.

"Eat kid." Rieko commanded in a powerful voice while she sat with her hands on her knees while she watched the child glanced between her and the sandwich.

Just before the redhead grasped onto it with a hungry hand while she gazed up at the military woman's face in a sliver of appreciation.

"Thank you." The scarlet-haired child murmured in a barely perceivable voice before she quickly began eating the offering.

While the woman sat back upon her seat of hay with her blue eyes occasionally glancing down at the young redhead as the child scooted closer.

About twenty minutes later.

The rain trickled down upon the rooftop when the monarch suddenly glanced down at her leg when she felt something press against her thigh.

Only for her cold blue eyes to gaze down in surprise to see that the little girl had fallen asleep upon her thigh.

The exhausted redhead slept with her face resting upon the older female's thigh while she breathed softly in her sleep.

Only for Rieko to sigh as she placed a gloved hand upon the girl's back while she allowed the orphan to rest upon her leg.

All the while as the thunder continued to beat down outside the barn.

Several hours later.

Rieko said nothing when she watched the child open her eyes only for the girl to widen her eyes just as soon as she opened them.

And not a second later the child immediately sat up while her face turned as red as her hair as she listened to the woman chuckle over her.

"Sleep well?" The emperor inquired in a teasing voice while the orphan's smile gave way to a prideful scowl.

"No. I did not!" The little girl snapped as she scooted away with her angered brown eyes avoiding the woman's smug gaze.

"Kid. I have something that I want to give you." Rieko spoke up as she reached for her belt while the child turned back to gaze up at her in curiosity.

"And what's that?" The scarlet-haired child asked in a still flustered voice only for her eyes to grow even wider when the military woman removed one of her two swords that sat sheathed upon her hip.

Before the woman held out a sheathed blade before her stunned eyes.

It was…a Japanese stylized short sword!

The little girl stared down at it in amazement just as the blade was set in her scraped hands.

In that very moment the unnamed child felt as if the military woman's presence was all encompassing as she gazed up from the sword into the captivating blue eyes.

"This…is a gift from me to you." The emperor announced as she watched the child grasp the blade with a trembling hand.

All the while staring up at her with her brave façade giving way in the wake of her surprise.

"A sword…for me?" The little girl muttered in a taken aback voice as she gazed down at the exquisite as she ran her fingertip over the ornate sheath.

"That's right. It is yours to do with as you must." Rieko spoke with her gloved hand falling back into her lap while she stared down into the orphan's spellbound eyes.

The nameless child clutched the sheathed short sword in her hands as she raised her eyes to gaze up at Rieko's enthralling face.

All the while as the uniformed woman's lips creased into the barest hint of a smile.

While the redhead sunk back into the hay with her reflective eyes gazing between the ruler and the sword.

The following day.

The child woke up in the morning only for her tired eyes to widen when she saw that the woman's spot on the hay stack was vacant.

"She's…gone." The scarlet-haired child stated to herself while glancing around the barn as she sat up.

Only for her brown eyes to quickly glance down to notice that the sword was still sitting right beside her.

Just as she jumped when she heard the man's voice shouting out to her.

"Brat!" Henry called out into the distance while the child scrambled to hide the sword.

Just before she swiftly stashed it in the mass of hay before she sprang to her feet.

And then she rushed out to answer the man's call.

Five minutes later.

"I said did you hear anything strange in the field last night?" The older man questioned in a strict voice while the orphan stared up at him in surprise.

Just before she quickly shook her head.

"No. I did not." The little girl responded as she gazed up at the man's frowning face with her brown eyes contemplating the situation.

'She must have gotten up to hide the bodies! He doesn't seem to know that she was here…' The scarlet-haired child thought in recognition as she gazed thoughtfully up at the older man.

"If you see anything. You had better let me know." Henry warned in a harsh voice while the child nodded her head.

"I will." The scarlet-haired child answered only for her smile to almost fall when a manual garden tiller was thrust into her hands.

"Get to work tilling the field! And if you don't laze around maybe we'll feed you breakfast." Henry ordered in a dismissive voice while the redhead almost scowled up at him.

And the child even came close to telling the older man off.

Only to nod with a grumble a few seconds later as she turned to walk off with her brown eyes still glancing in the direction of the shed.

And so, her day went.

She tilled the field all day long.

Never once seeing any sign of the slain soldiers.

She trudged along with sweat dripping down her brow while she hauled a bale of hay over her shoulders.

All the while as the words of Rieko and Strados replayed in her mind.

Because you are weak. The strong have no regard for the weak.

Only a weakling would accept such a fate.

You can either grow strong. Or remain as you are.

Her brown eyes shimmered in deep thought as she gazed up into the setting sun while a warm breeze swept through her scarlet hair.

All the while as her locket hung underneath her torn shirt with the words continuing to repeat over and over in her mind.

"Am I strong? Or am I weak?" The little girl pondered in a quiet voice as she stared up into the fading sun with a contemplative countenance.

Elsewhere.

Rieko stood at the edge of the vast farm field with her coat blowing in the wind.

She gazed up into the gray sky with her cold blue eyes taking on an intrigued gleam as she turned to gaze back in the direction of the farmhouse.

"Just a few more hours. I can sense a great change of chi in the air." The emperor spoke in a piqued voice with her lips pulling into a sophisticated smile.

Indeed.

If her intuition is right about this one.

Then she may well have just found herself the perfect apprentice.

Later on, that evening.

The rain lightly trickled down as she walked on exhausted feet towards the house in hopes of getting dinner while her brown eyes briefly passed over the barn door.

Only to find herself gazing in disappointment when she saw that it was still vacant.

Before she resumed her walk with a sigh while she made her way to the house.

Only to pause her hand just before she was about to turn the door knob when she heard the couple's rushed voices coming from inside.

"I'm telling you Henry it was her face on the poster! They are looking for a child with red hair!" Caroline exclaimed while the redhead's eyes widened as her hand froze up around the doorknob.

"Are you certain?" Henry asked with excitement building in his voice while the child's wide eyes gazed back at the door.

"Yes, I am! Do you have any idea what this means for us Henry? The bounty on her head is in the millions! We would be rich! We'll never have want for anything ever again!" The older woman explained in a greedy voice while the redhead's bangs hung in her shadowed eyes.

"And…all we have to do is contact them?" The older man answered in an eager voice while the orphan's broken brown eyes stared aimlessly ahead.

"That's right Henry. All we have to do is notify them." Caroline stated in a cruel voice with her eyes taking on a gleam of avarice while the child's lips shook in sorrow.

The redhead's scraped hands fell down to her waist as she trembled before the door just as she took a step backwards.

Snap!

The sound of the orphan's foot stepping onto a rickety board resounded into the air while the scarlet child's wide eyes now stared back at the house in alarm.

All the while as the couple spun around with their eyes widening in alarm.

"What was that noise?" The older woman queried in a hurried voice while her husband turned towards the door.

"That little brat was listening in on us!" Henry hissed with anger in his eyes just as his wife's wide eyes gazed back at the door.

"What are you waiting for Henry! Go get her!" Caroline barked in a demanding voice while her husband quickly nodded before he rushed towards the door.

While the nameless child shook on her shaky legs as the words from Strados and the couple flowed through her haunted mind.

Because you are weak. The strong have no regard for the weak.

Hold your heads high and be supportive of one another…because if one of you falls…the rest of you fall too.

A little memento. Keep the memories of your loved ones close to heart…think of them in your time of need and know that they are forever lost to you.

Do you know why I became a soldier? It wasn't for heroics or notions of honor and duty. It was for that face!

We should have never taken in that worthless brat.

Because we get a check for providing a 'home' to one of the refugee children from the East that's why.

The bounty on her head is in the millions!

And…all we have to do is contact them?

That's right Henry. All we have to do is notify them.

And just like that the little girl was torn from her thoughts by the sound of the door opening up before her.

Just before she turned around and bolted away while the older man's voice bellowed after her.

"You little brat! Get back here!" The older man shouted as he ran out into the rain after the orphan while the child darted across the property.

The redhead sprinted towards the barn with her panicked eyes gazing ahead while Rieko's charismatic voice followed into her mind once more.

The choice my young friend…is completely up to you.

You can either grow strong. Or remain as you are.

All the while as the couple's shouts rang out into the air behind her as she staggered across the field.

"Rieko! What do I do! Rieko!" The scarlet-haired child blurted out in a frenzied voice just as she burst into the barn.

Only for her brown eyes to dart about in a panic to find that the woman wasn't there.

Rainfall pattered down atop the barn house.

While Rieko watched on the rooftop with her cold-blooded blue eyes staring down at the barn below.

Just before her shoulders stiffened with a faint scowl on her lips when the little girl called out her name.

Somewhere deep inside her hardened heart she almost felt compelled to go help the girl.

But she was confident that the kid could handle it.

Her ruthless blue eyes observed the man open the door of the barn while she turned to gaze down at the front porch of the house.

Just before she elegantly jumped off the rooftop with superhuman speed.

While a blinding black blur now entered the open door of the house below.

"She went in here…" Henry trailed off as he gazed through the barn door while he followed the trail of disturbed hay.

Only for his eyes to land on the redhead kneeling with her back turned to him as she dug in the hay.

"There you are…" The older man trailed off as he approached the orphan just as the redhead turned to gaze up at him.

The abused child stared up at the man with many emotions flashing in her haunted eyes while she watched the man come to a stop over her.

"What did I tell you about not answering when I talk to you?" Henry questioned in a sadistic voice while he reached to pull the girl forward by her shoulder.

While as the redhead gazed up at him with her brown eyes wide in unfathomable emotion just as the man's hand touched her shoulder.

All the while as she heard voices play in her mind once more.

T-that's not true. Not everyone is cruel.

Her brown eyes began to tremble in newfound rage as she gazed up at Henry's shadowed face while she clutched her hand over the sheathed blade.

It is yours to do with as you must.

'I can either become strong or I can remain weak!' The little girl thought as all of the anger from the abuse she has endured since her birth flooded to the surface.

And then just like that.

Something snapped deep within her.

A waterfall of raw untapped chi exploded forth from the child's body while she shouted into the air at the top of her lungs.

While she withdrew the sword from the hay with lightning speed while her voice rang out across the rural field.

There was a fleeting flash of a scarlet blur.

And being the ordinary human that he was Henry never had a chance to react.

"I thought I told you to-" The older man gurgled as his words died in his throat while he gazed down in shock to find himself gazing back into strikingly colder brown eyes.

Only for his eyes to widen in disbelief and horror when he realized that his chest had been pierced by a small sword.

"W-what…have you…d-done." Henry sputtered only to cry out in pain when the orphan yanked the blade out from his chest.

Just as he stumbled backwards with his hand now weakly clutching his bleeding chest.

Only to drop to the ground rasping for air not even a moment later while the life rapidly faded from his dying eyes.

And the last thing he saw was the scarlet orphan's coldly narrowed gaze.

Rainfall fell from the cloudy gray skies over the lone farm house just as a haunting scream split into the air.

While the wife gazed into the direction of the barn with a confused countenance.

"Henry! Is everything okay in there?" Caroline shouted out into the rain only for a chill to travel down her spine when she heard the sound of footsteps on the wooden floor behind her.

Only if her husband and the girl are outside…

Then who is in her house?

She spun around only to find herself gazing on in disbelief to see a tall young woman in black sauntering through her house as if she owned it!

The monarch strode past the intimidated woman while she regarded her coldly through the corner of her eye.

Only stopping when a hand seized a hold of the collar of her coat.

"W-who are you and what are you doing in my house!?" The older woman demanded with her fist gripping the younger woman's coat.

It was only then that her eyes grew wide in terror when she realized that the woman was over a head taller than her.

Just as frigid blue eyes turned to lazily glance down at her from over her turned shoulder while she shook in rising terror.

Slap!

The wife cried out in pain when a white gloved hand casually backhanded her across the floor.

She soared with a broken jaw as she crumpled down in the floor of her open doorway cowering in terror.

While an unbelievably cold pain shot through her bruised cheek as if she had just contracted the most agonizing frostbite that she could ever imagine.

All the while as she stared on in fright after the young woman's back just as she watched her vanish into her kitchen soon after.

"H-Henry!" Caroline called out in a fractured voice as she stumbled to her feet before she fled into the pouring rain.

Just as Rieko pulled out a chair at the kitchen table before she plopped down upon her bottom.

And then soon after she set down a glass and bottle of liquor.

Before she began pouring herself a drink while she found herself unable to resist smiling when she heard the wife's terrified shouts split into the air.

Just as she reclined in her seat as she tipped the glass against her beautiful lips before she took a generous gulp of the whiskey.

"Ahh. That hits the spot." Rieko remarked in a pleased voice as she sighed contently while the woman's shrill screams still rang into her ears.

"Help Henry! There is someone inside!" The older woman screamed in a pained voice with her hand nursing her broken jaw as she staggered to a stop before the open barn door.

Only for her eyes to widen to the size of dinner plates when she caught sight of her husband lying on the ground in a pool of blood.

Her mouth dropped ajar in horror as she took a shaken step backwards while the sound of soft footsteps entered her ears.

And that was when she saw her.

Standing over her husband's body with a bloodied sword in hand.

While the redhead stood with her bangs shadowing her eyes as she gripped the hilt of her blade.

"I will…become strong." The scarlet-haired child spoke in a quiet voice as she raised her eyes to meet the woman's horrified gaze.

Just as Caroline turned to run away as fast as her legs could carry her.

Only for the child to spring at her with rapid agility while she screamed as loud as her lungs could manage.

While the sounds of steel piercing flesh split into the air.

Which was followed up shortly by Caroline's gurgling screams for mercy.

All the while as the monarch drank another gulp of liquor as she leaned back in her chair.

While she gazed out the window with uncaring blue eyes as she listened to the woman's dying wails.

"Serves them right. That shit is not acceptable in my empire." The emperor spoke as she set her glass upon the tabletop while she gazed ahead with frigid blue eyes.

Only to turn her head soon after when she heard the sound of quiet footsteps approaching in the rain.

Just before she pushed herself to her feet with a sigh.

The orphan stood in the rain with her sword in hand while droplets of rainfall dripped down her cut cheeks.

While she never once turned around when she heard the sound of the woman stepping out onto the porch.

"Are you…alright kid?" Rieko questioned from where she leaned against the door while she gazed at the child's rain soaked back.

There was a momentary pause while the redhead stared up into the gray clouds with her brown eyes shadowed by her bangs.

Just before she turned to face the older female with a small smile on her lips.

"Of course, I am. I've never felt better." The little girl answered in a strikingly calm voice while the military woman observed her with curious blue eyes.

Only for the monarch's lips to curve into her usual grin as she held a gloved fist against her cheek.

"You've just discovered the well of untapped power that lies deep within. Well done." The emperor stated with an approving smile on her lips while she gazed at the redhead's prideful face.

"So…that's what this is." The scarlet-haired child mumbled with a strange smile still on her lips as she savored the way the rain droplets washed away the blood from her countless cuts.

"I would like for you to come with me." Rieko announced with her arms folded over her breasts while the orphan turned to face her once more.

"I am sorry Rieko. But I…cannot." The little girl stated to the surprise of the older female while she gazed back into the woman's taken aback blue eyes.

"You cannot? And why is that?" The emperor queried in a puzzled voice as the child sheathed her blade.

"I…am searching for my name…for my identity. And until I find out who I am I cannot go with you." The scarlet-haired child answered as she turned to face the older female's perplexed gaze.

"You intend to search for your identity on your own? You are still a small child. You may well die on your own." Rieko advised in an insistent voice with a frown forming upon her lips while the orphan shrugged her shoulders.

"Maybe so. But from this point forward I will let no other will override my own." The little girl explained as she gripped her locket while the military woman released an annoyed sigh.

"You are one stubborn child. But so be it." The emperor sighed as she watched the child walk towards her.

Naturally she could take the girl by force but she would flee eventually.

Whereas if she obtained her of her own free will then she would grow to desire a place by her side.

"But perhaps one day I will come see you after I've found myself." The scarlet-haired child spoke as she peered up at the older female's towering form while the woman grinned once more.

"I see. In that case take this." Rieko remarked as she reached into her pocket before she dropped a small phone into the child's open hand.

The redhead gazed down at it with thoughtful brown eyes just as she felt a gloved hand pat her shoulder.

Before she glanced back up into Rieko's brilliant blue eyes while the older woman flashed a charming smile down at her.

"If you should happen to change your mind. You know where you can find me." The emperor declared with her hand lingering on the child's shoulder as brown eyes peered up at her.

"Understood." The little girl responded in a quiet voice while she tried to squash her inner longings for the woman's maternal comforts.

That was part of why she wanted to go her own way.

She didn't want her identity to be consumed and reshaped to this woman's will.

"Perhaps we'll meet again someday but until then…grow strong." Rieko concluded with a slight smile on her lips while she gazed down into taken aback brown eyes.

While she momentarily clutched the orphan's shoulder before she removed her gloved hand soon afterward.

"Grow strong." The scarlet-haired child murmured as she clutched her sword to her chest while she watched the statuesque woman turn to walk away.

She stared on as the military woman's coat swayed with her every footstep before Rieko turned to glance back at her for a final time.

"Farewell until next time kid." The emperor called out with a small grin on her lips while the child stared after her.

Just before she waved her gloved hand over her shoulder as she resumed walking away.

"Farewell…Rieko." The little girl answered as she gazed after the woman's tall back while she watched her vanish into the distance.

And soon enough she was alone again.

She craned her neck to gaze up at the darkened rainy skies with an unreadable gleam in her brown eyes.

All the while as she stood in the pouring rain with a growing smile upon her lips.

And so, it went as the thunder crackled overhead.

She stood smiling in the rain.

Several weeks later.

The redhead crashed through a broken table while she coughed upon the floor.

All the while as her furious brown eyes gazed up at the rogue soldier's smiling face as he came to a stop over her.

"Red…I've found you at long last. And you're stronger than you were the last time we met." Strados spoke in a pleased voice with his heartless blue eyes staring down at the orphan's defiant face.

While the child slid back upon the floor of the abandoned cabin while she clutched her sword in hand.

Just as she sprinted towards her tormentor while he chuckled with soldiers rushing in to flank him from behind.

"But still not strong enough." The soldier stated as his boots slid back upon the flooring while his chi flared to life.

And then not even a second later the child was brutally slammed into unconsciousness upon the wooden floor.

The redhead slumped with her face being crushed underneath the man's powerful fist.

Just as she was unceremoniously hoisted into the air and thrown over the soldier's shoulder.

All the while as her discarded sword dropped to the floor with a faint clang.

An isolated underground prisoner complex set nestled in isolation at the center of a lake surrounded by towering mountains.

While the child now sat in a cold cell with her face hidden in her knees as a figure observed her through the camera feed.

"I finally have you back Number Three. And this time you will not be escaping my grasp." The voice announced in a beyond satisfied undertone.

And then there was silence.

[cum-a-calla]

Bob Gray making you lick his boots?

"Down."

You're already down. Above you, leaning back far enough that his old chair creaks in protest, Bob Gray watches. There's a cigarette perched in the corner of his mouth, barely hanging on between his lips. He takes a long pull, long and hard, the cherry chasing down the dirty white paper, and he plucks it with a finger and a thumb before he leans forward.

Smoke blows into your face. It stirs the dirt on the floor, makes you cough and turn away. He laughs and lifts a foot, both of them resting lazily in front of your hands. You rest like that, on your hands and knees, and his foot rises up until he brings the heel down against the crown of your skull.

"Down."

He guides you by digging that heel in, ambivalent as to whether it twists your hair or hurts your scalp. Resistence is met by strength. Regard for your comfort is nonexistent. You convince yourself on your way down that it's his fault blood rushes to your cheeks, fills you up between the thighs til you're throbbing. If you weren't in this position, if he wasn't pushing until your nose brushes the floor, maybe gravity wouldn't aid all that hot ache rush straight down. It's a lie almost easy enough to swallow.

His heel comes away and he slides his boots forward, treads showing. He knocks the toes together and laughs, nudges the tip of one boot up against your lips. It takes effort not to recoil, to turn to the side and spit, and instead, an agonized moan slips past your lips.

"Lick 'em clean."

As he has himself another laugh, this one loaded with smoke, you freeze up. His boots are covered in paint. There's no way he expects you to consume his face paint, spattered over the old, creased leather.

"But... the paint."

"Not paint."

"Well, shouldn't I... know what I'm licking?"

He hums, and his treads squeal as he yanks them back, leaning down to wrap his fingers into your hair. He threads them through, squeezes, and pulls, and you're inches from his face instead of his boot.

He puffs from the cigarette, managing to sneer through the wisps of smoke. He runs a callused thumb over your lips before pushing it past them, before working his finger behind your teeth and forcing your jaw open. When he releases your hair to grab his cigarette, there's no option but to be still. The ache between your thighs licks up at your guts, raging, threatening to burn up through your insides until it consumes you.

He ashes on your tongue and slaps a hand over your mouth. Cigarette goes back in his grinning lips, in his teeth. One hand over the mouth. One behind your head. No pathways, no shaking your head like a rabid dog, no spitting. Nothing but his huge, steady hands, smoke in your lungs, and ashes in your mouth.

You swallow. You swallow and he laughs.

Lowered back to the floor, he puts his boots under your face again. A swift jerk of his leg and the toe fattens your lip, smashes it against your teeth just enough to raise a bump and split it. It throbs and you breathe through the sharpness, swallow your curses and blink back the sting of tears. In your belly, entire suns burn into existence, raging futilely in the void of your empty body. Blood drips, just a few delicate drops. Just enough to add to the red paint, the streaks on both boots, on the edges of his pantlegs.

Red and red.

"You've just swallowed worse, filthy thing. Like I said," he titters, voice swinging in pitch as he smears your blood over the leather. "It's not paint."

There's a sound joining his low, discordant giggle, more felt than heard. A peek upward on instinct provides you with his shifting hips, his zipper coming down and his big knuckles disappearing underneath.

"Get lickin'."

[honestsycrets]

No Thieves Welcome XV: Find Your Voice

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | reader takes part of the ragnarssons out to go dress shopping where hvitserk notices something peculiar…

❛  warnings | verbal argument

❛ sy’s notes | it begins.

Hvitserk didn’t mean to tune out talk of fancy ass suits. First, the blue one that made his skin crawl, then the vest that made him feel like a straight out blueberry. He had so many other things on his mind then stuffy ties that would cut off his breathing. Some masochistic motherfucker had come up with suits. He was fully ready to jump out of this shit as soon as he put it on. It was tight. Really tight.

“Shit, uncle.” He sneers, waving his fingers to snap Rollo’s hand from the tie that was making him choke. They snap back.

The light in his uncle’s eyes glistened almost pridefully of his nephew. Hvitserk let you tend to these ins and outs of picking an outfit to complement yours. With the help of his family of course. Rollo suggested no more blueberries, thank fuck. This was the nicest you’d see him, he barked earlier. The moment he was home he’d probably flick the suit off for his joggers and comfortable hoodies.

“Keep still,” his uncle says, drawing the tie into a knot that sits just “right” against his throat. “We’re almost done.”

“You keep still.” Hvitserk huffs, breath hitching in his throat. He flicks his fingers in agitation at his uncle. Stupid prom, he thinks. “At least I fuckin’ got some with her dress. I ain’t gettin’ shit stuck here with you.”

“You fucked her in the dressing room?” Rollo states, dully.

“It’s not fuckin’ if I just had a snack.”

“Of course you did.” Rollo turns his head. “You’re a Ragnarsson. Just like your father and I, Sigurdarsons. We fucked Lagertha in--”

“I don’t wanna know.” Hvitserk rushes out, erasing that mental image from his head. Not that Lagertha was a bad looking woman, in fact, his milf kink had to come somewhere. Though, he’s not sure if that was his barefoot and pregnant mother that grew his attraction to mothers or Lagertha’s single mom do it all, fuck you attitude that--

“Baby?”

You’re at the door. He smoothes over the sleek, dark suit. It’s a lot of black. From the smooth slacks towards the tight charcoal vest that sits on top of a black belt. He bends his head down, smoothing his hand over the deep blue button up. Then bending his head he looks down to his scratched up sneakers. With a squeak of his shoes, he steps out of the room.

“Hey…” He whispers. Your hands wander over his arms, accented by his skinny suit. Your glossy lips part, a warm puff of breath marking your excitement. Hvitserk brings his hand up, curling your dyed lock of hair around his fingertips. “What do you think?”

It’s incredible. It’s hot. It’s sexy.

Had you said it?

Your cheeks heat, turning your hand down his pantleg. Hvitserk jerks, almost unexpectant of your fingers massaging his shaft as soon as you found it behind the smooth slacks. You tippy toe, kissing just under his ear by his jaw.

“It’s so good baby.” You say, giggling until your eyes catch Rollo’s smug smile behind his nephew. You flutter your eyelashes and settle back flat upon your feet. Hvitserk’s hand lurches around your waist, stroking your stomach with his thumb. His sweet twins.

“Finally like it?” He asks.

“All but for the shoes.”

“Gimme a hit of that fine ass and I’ll think about it.” Hvitserk remarks.

“It’s still a no.” You sing and stop walking on tile. You turn to look at him with annoyance by propping your eyebrows up on your forehead. By the time you reach the area where Magnus was up on a slightly elevated black platform, Hvitserk flings up his hands, squeaking to a stop.

“What?” He laughs. “I went from having a lotta ass-- to no ass.”

“You get plenty of kittie.”

“It’s not the same.” He says, whining in some regard before looking to his brothers. Ubbe and Bjorn fuss over their brother while Ivar and Sigurd are nowhere in sight. Bjorn straightens out his suit jacket while Magnus cringes with an unctuous look splashed across his face. Rollo clips behind the two of you and settles in his seat. Without prompting, you leave Hvitserk’s side and step up to Magnus. He’s fiddling with his hands despite his mouth having gone dry, anxious with all of  his brother’s eyes on him.

This is the family that he always longed for. Being adopted left him without a family for so long. Aethelred and Alfred were good… a great, awesome family. But it wasn’t the same. It felt different when they were there together.

“It looks good.” You reassure Magnus, taking his hands in yours to soothe the frantic shake. Hvitserk stands back, watching the sensation of peace sooth him like a wave, almost emanating. He blinks, slow and cautious past the familiar… anxiety brewing in his belly. The spike of hate from someone… touching you. Magnus is ensconced in the moment that he felt robbed of. What if--

No. You didn’t love Magnus.

You didn’t want Magnus.

A moment later, bitter iron spills into his mouth. His meaty inner cheek burns with a raw ache. The squeaking of Rollo’s chair causes him to twitch, looking down from Magnus’s face down to your hands in his. He catches himself in a long season of quiet, his gaze still upon his half-brother’s slender hands. Then, he catches something beyond his aforementioned jealousy.

A scar. Almost a fissure scratching down from the web of his thumb and index finger. Hvitserk outlines subsequent scars with his eyes not once, or twice, but over and over. They… aren’t what he thinks they are. The small scratches, almost like claws, are just happenstance. He could be cutting and that, Hvitserk thinks, would be preferable to what he suspected.

“Let’s get measured.”

Thora’s gurgling.

Ubbe comes to stand beside him, arms folded one over another. He shakes Hvitserk. It almost causes him to stagger. Magnus steps off the platform and toward the dressing rooms with jaunty steps.

Her cold, lifeless eyes. Almost a shell.

“Hvit-- Yeah.”

He cuts off his brother, baring you a short smile as he curtails with sluggish and languid steps back to the dressing rooms.

I’ll be in with you two shortly, claims the short chubby man off to fetch his things. Hvitserk sits against the wall watching his brother. His anxious eyes crease into small crescent moons, fakely sweet.

“How did you get them?”

Magnus flicks his head back, curls bouncing. “What?”

“How did you get those fuckin’ scars on your gotdamn hands.” It’s a statement. Accusatory. Hvitserk knows that his brother is rebounding an answer when he doesn’t immediately answer. It’s almost as if he’s debating which of his two or three so-called excuses will sound the most believable.

“I-- I-- Margrethe.” He blurts out at once. “Margrethe needed help.”

Good one. Half believable. Blame the crazy woman, Hvitserk thinks. If he were Bjorn, maybe he would eat it. Ubbe and he had serious doubts about his paternity. It wasn’t as if the stripper of strippers, Queen Kwenthrith hadn’t been with enough men in her lifetime.

“Help with what?”

The words sour. Hvitserk staggers up to leer down at the smaller of his brothers. There’s no talk of bowling or sweetness between brother and brother. This time, there’s only the spite left on his tongue. Where oh where is that suit attendant now?

“Cat.” He blurts out. Except, Margrethe didn’t have a cat. Or, if she did, not anymore.

Hvitserk leans back, raising his head to look down in indignant annoyance at his brother. He tries to reason with himself. Not here, not now. You were out there. You would be there to hear if his little fuckface cried wolf. If there was one thing that Hvitserk was certain of… it was that you were not going to break up with him again. Not over this little bitch in front of him. He cracks a smile.

“I bet you miss (Y/N), don’t you?” Hvitserk drawls out with an intuitive smile. “You haven’t seen her in a long time.”

“You’ve been hogging her,” he says in a click of his tongue. Hvitserk’s head tilts, looking for the expression behind his flaxen curls. The shadows of his hair hides it from him.

“Boyfriends do that. I’m the one she wants. When she wakes up in the morning, it's me. When she sleeps, it’s me. And when she motherfucking gives birth, guess whose babies those are?”

Magnus clicks his dry throat as he attempts to swallow, backing up until his back hits the faux wall. In a bode of confidence, Magnus looks up, biting the tears that bubble at the side of his eyes. He frowns at the thought. Oh, Hvitserk can see it in his eye. His breathing hitches and he swallows it, dropping his hand back to sway against the wall behind him.

“Yo-- You’re just a boyfriend,” he dares say. “She doesn’t ne--need a boyfriend.”

“With twins?” Hvitserk draws out a deep laugh. “You’ve never had kids, huh? No siblings? No, right… I forgot, your mother is dead. You’ve never had any. In fact, I’m not altogether sure you’re even my brother.”

Hvitserk wins when the tears stream over Magnus’s round cheeks, dripping down onto the suit that Bjorn said looked so right for him. If there was ever a warning, here it was. He considers Magnus with a sharp look. Hvitserk knows. He’s spent too long, way too long waiting to do this. He should have put Magnus in his place and kept this bubbling idiot in his place long ago.

“She needs me. So I’m makin’ her my wife before she pushes out my fuckin’ kids.”

“N-No.”

“Say that again.” Hvitserk’s head turns, twisting so close now that Magnus can feel the brush of his lips against his, spitting with his hate for him. There’s a knock on the door, two rasps before the man clears his throat. He feels the weight of Hvitserk’s words, the threat behind it. Still, he carries on.

“I said no.”

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[frostmarris]

Camaraderie

[ I ]

summary: Sakura’s first year at Hogwarts is filled with more new friendships than she knows what to do with

notes: this is all the multisaku discord chats’ fault

an hp/naruto crossover focusing on saku-friendships with maaaybe a little eventual romance

hope you enjoy!

When Sakura was born, her hair was a very pale blonde, many shades lighter than her mother’s but with the potential to darken to the same golden yellow. Her father would often playfully lament the fact that she’d inherited both her mother’s hair and eyes and, when she puffed out her chubby cheeks and pouted up at him, saying that she didn’t want grey hair like him, Kizashi would gently pinch her nose and tell her that she’d look just as cute with the red hair of his youth.

She spent most of her preschool days trying not to let her bullies see her cry, hiding her wide forehead behind blonde bangs and playing by herself or taking refuge in the daycare building. Her favorite color was blue and her father often teased her that it matched his eyes, but she was never without her favorite plastic bracelet – a pale cerulean band dotted with white stars – and often held it between her palms while she endured the other children’s teasing.

Playing by herself was difficult, so she often imagined she had friends that would keep her company. Imaginary friends that picked flowers with her or helped her make her sandcastles or pushed her on the swing, her imagination only strengthened by the odd occurrences that she never really considered to be all that strange. The buds on flower crowns she weaved bloomed when she smiled down at them, her castles never crumbled in the sandbox, and she swung higher than all of the other 4-year-olds at the playground, even if she was by herself, and she was delighted, sure that she didn’t need to play with the other children if she could accomplish so much on her own.

She was five when she made her first, real friend.

The empty house next door was suddenly no longer vacant when a family of three moved in, a smiling young couple with their daughter who Sakura met one day while playing outside in the Haruno residence’s yard, piling up sticks into a make-shift campfire.

She’d just stuck a pair of marshmallows onto one of her sticks when she heard a shy voice behind her, green eyes wide and curious as she looked over her shoulder.

“H-hi!” The smiling brown-haired girl behind her said, arms crossed behind her back and the toe of her red sneakers digging sheepishly at an exposed rock. “I just moved in next’ta you!”

Sakura paused for a moment, quickly glancing around to make sure the other girl was actually talking to her. Seeing no one else in the yard or on the street, she offered a shy smile and turned to face her, marshmallow stick gripped in her fist as she kneeled in the grass.

“O-oh, hi! My name’s Sakura. What’s yours?”

The brunette’s smile widened and she moved closer, pointing at herself. “I’m Tenten! It’s nice to meet’cha, Sakura.”

She paused, head tilting and her brown pigtails bobbing as she glanced down at the crude pile of sticks and the bag of marshmallows next to the blonde-haired girl.

“Are you roastin’ marshmallows?”

Sakura’s grin widened and she nodded enthusiastically, waving Tenten over.

“Yeah!” A pause as her lips twisted into a small frown. “’Scept I don’t have a real fire and Mama won’t let me make s’mores...”

She looked back up at her new neighbor and smiled again, reaching for the half-empty bag next to her before holding it out to the other girl.

“Wanna play with me? I’ve got a whole bag!”

And Sakura and Tenten became quick friends, spending most of their time after preschool together and playing in either of respective yards and homes. Tenten scared off Sakura’s bullies when they came to tease the blonde-haired girl about her large forehead and Sakura learned that the brunette’s parents were actually her adopted parents, currently only about halfway into their first year as a family. The Haruno’s were the only other Japanese family in the neighborhood and Mr. and Mrs. Jouda were overjoyed that their new daughter had already made a friend while Kizashi and Mebuki were relieved that Sakura finally had one of her own.

The two families grew closer as their daughters’ friendship developed, but it was only Tenten’s father who seemed to know what was going on when, one day, the little brown-haired six-year-old spontaneously turned Sakura’s cup of water into a cup full of sand.

The Haruno’s had invited the Jouda’s over for lunch, as they often did at least once every couple weeks, and the two girls had been playing in the living room while the grown-up chatted in the kitchen, laughing over tea and coffee. Sitting around the low coffee table in front of the couch, the girls giggled as they colored in their activity books, the Haruno family cat, a calico Manx, sleeping on the arm of the sofa behind them.

Tenten had only just asked her friend if she could have a sip of her water, the offered glass in her hand for all of two seconds, when the liquid suddenly turned tan, solidifying into hundreds of grains of sand. The girls stared in surprise at the cup, their crayons forgotten, before Tenten hesitantly poked the forefinger of her free hand into the sand.

“How did’ya do that, Tenten?” Sakura asked, eyes wide and wondrous, while the brunette frowned, eyebrows creased worriedly.

“I-I’m sorry, Sakura, your water- I didn’t mean- How did that...?”

The blonde-haired girl shifted closer, carefully reaching for the cup as well.

Her fingers were a hairbreadth away when the glass suddenly turned to sand as well, both girls jumping in surprise with shocked shouts as the fistfuls of sand fell down onto the tabletop and Tenten’s lap, sliding through her fingers.

“M-mama!” Tenten called, obviously more scared by what had just happened than Sakura, who was hesitantly pushing her fingers into the pile of sand. “Papa!”

The adults all rushed into the room, the Jouda’s at the lead, and all four paused uncertainly in the doorway to the living room, looking around for whatever trouble that had distressed the girls.

Prince, the calico cat, stretched from his place on the sofa before hopping onto the coffee table, batting curiously at the small dune at the edge.

“Is that,” Mrs. Jouda paused, moving closer to the girls. “Sand?”

Mebuki’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, glancing from the pile on the floor to Sakura and Tenten as they rushed to their parents’ sides. “Where did all of this sand come from, girls?”

“Tenten ma-!”

“I-I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to-!”

It was hard to understand the girls as they tried to recount the tale to the adults, Sakura’s eyes wide with wonder and excitement while Tenten was on the verge of tears, clinging to her mother’s leg. Mr. Jouda, who had been silent all this time, quickly crouched down next to his daughter, gently dropping a hand onto her head and stroking her brown hair as he tried to calm her.

“Shh, shh, Tenten, it’s okay!” Sakura heard him tell her, resisting the urge to go play in the sand with Prince. She stayed next to her parents as Tenten’s father picked the teary-eyed brunette up, offering a quick apology to the Haruno’s and resting a hand on his confused wife’s shoulder.

There was an odd look on his face, a mixture of surprise, confusion, concern...

Awe.

“You’ll have to excuse us, Kizashi, Mebuki. Tenten must have been playing in the sandbox at preschool and brought home a shoe-full. I,” He paused, glancing to his frowning wife, who brushed her long black ponytail over her shoulder, before adjusting his hold on his daughter. “I need... to speak with Koko. Sorry about the mess!”

Mebuki looked just as confused as his wife, but Kizashi brushed the odd event off with a laugh, taking Sakura’s hand in his own when she grabbed onto his pantleg.

“No worries, Taro! Sakura brings home pockets filled with sand all the time when she comes back from the playground. Have a nice afternoon!”

And Mr. Jouda quickly ushered his wife out of the house, the sniffling Tenten still clinging to him, while the Haruno’s shrugged it off, cleaning up the odd pile of sand.

Later that same week, something else happened.

It had been about four days since Tenten turned the cup of water into sand at her home – and Sakura knew it had been Tenten that did it – and she hadn’t seen her friend since then. She stood on her friend’s porch, a Ziploc bag with chocolate chip cookies in her hand as she reached up onto her tiptoes to ring the doorbell. It was quiet for a few moments before the door finally opened and there was the brunette, her eyebrows furrowing as she peaked around the edge of the partially opened door.

“Sakura?”

“Tenten! You haven’t been at preschool and Mama said you were pro’lly sick! So! I brought you some cookies to help you get better!”

Tenten’s lips pursed and her brown eyes darted down to the bag of treats in Sakura’s hands before she looked back up at the blonde-haired girl, expression still confused.

“You... came t’visit me?”

“Of course!” Sakura replied, her face scrunching up into an equally confused frown. “You’re my friend - why wouldn’t I?”

Something shifted in Tenten’s eyes, her posture relaxing with hesitant relief as she opened the door fully.

“You still wanna be my friend? Even though I...- With the sand…”

Sakura giggled and took the brunette’s hand, pulling her towards the steps of the porch and sitting down, bag of cookies in her lap. Tenten hesitantly took a seat next to her, accepting a treat when her friend handed her one of the cookies.

“Duh, I still wanna be your friend, silly! I like you a lot!”

“Even if I’m weird...?” Tenten quickly shook her head free of that thought, leaning over to hug Sakura before taking a quick bite of her snack. “I like you a lot too, Sakura.”

Smiling, she returned the hug and, her blonde ponytail bouncing, she sat back and looked thoughtful for a moment before clapping her hands together.

“I know how I can prove that we’ll be friends forever! Here!” Tenten watched curiously as the other girl removed the blue bracelet from her wrist, green eyes sparkling and her grin wide as she quickly held it out to the brunette. “I want’cha to have this, Tenten! Like a friendship bracelet!”

She was staring at Sakura with wide eyes, mouth still open and her cookie halfway to her lips before she slowly lowered her hand and took the offered gift, a light blush on her cheeks.

“R-really?!”

Sakura gave a dutiful nod, looking very proud of herself, before her head tilted in confusion as Tenten quickly slipped the bracelet onto her own wrist, set aside her treat, and raised her hands up to her hair. After taking a moment to pat the twin buns her hair was styled into, she carefully removed the black hairclip from her its place holding back her bangs, fingers brushing over the little panda head at the end before she held it out to Sakura.

“Then I want you t’have this, Sakura. A friendship clip!”

It was her turn to stare at her friend, wide-eyed and gaze awed as she looked down at the panda clip, hesitating as she glanced up at the brunette.

“B-but... You love this hairclip, Tenten! You beat up that boy at the playground when he tried to steal it!”

Tenten smiled and pressed the panda clip into her friend’s hand.

“I love you more, Sakura!”

She gave a happy squeal and pulled the brunette in for a tight hug, her face flushed with pink.

A pink that was steadily spreading to her hair.

Spreading through her hair.

Tenten suddenly pulled back in surprise when she noticed Sakura’s ponytail change from light blonde to pastel pink. Her confused friend gave her a curious look when she held her at arm’s length, pink eyebrows furrowed as she took in the girl’s shocked expression.

“Tenten? What’s wrong?”

“Your hair!” She replied, voice a surprised whisper. “It’s... pink!”

Head tilting and face scrunching up in confusion, Sakura reached up to pull out the hair-tie holding back her ponytail, taking a lock between her fingers and pulling it into her line of sight. She froze as she was met with the sight of her no-longer blonde hair, and, instead, stared wide-eyed at the petal-pink strands wrapped around her fingers.

“W-what...?”

Tenten was staring too, reaching up to run her fingers through Sakura’s hair as well, brown eyes dropping back to the blonde-turned-pinkette’s frantic expression.

“Mama is gonna be so mad! I’m not old enough’ta dye my hair!”

And that was the scene that Taro Jouda walked out onto, standing in the open door of his house with a cup of coffee in his hand, the morning breeze ruffling his short brown hair, and surprised blue eyes falling on his daughter and her friend, the latter’s hair a startling pastel pink.

::

Sakura’s hair never changed back after that day and she overheard a lot of conversations between her parents and Tenten’s father, many of which she was sure she wasn’t supposed to have been listening in on.

-

“Have you two ever noticed anything... odd happen around Sakura before? Things that you can’t quite explain?”

“Well... when she was two, the windows to her nursery burst open when she was crying. We were sure they had been locked but...”

“And there was this time when- I thought I was going crazy, but I knew the bubble bath was strawberry scented, but it smelled like vanilla halfway through her bath!”

-

“It’s not uncommon for a child of non-magical parents to suddenly begin to start using magic. It just means that one of you has a witch or wizard ancestor.”

“What about your daughter? Did you know that Tenten was... magical?”

“Had either of Tenten’s biological parents been a witch or wizard, she wouldn’t have ended up in a Muggle orphanage. She must have been Muggleborn as well.”

“Muggle...?”

-

“How do you know so much about this? Are you a... wizard as well, Taro?”

“My mother was a witch and my father a Muggle. Both of my siblings started using magic when they were children – most young witches and wizards start showing magical potential by the time they’re seven – but, I... I could never use magic. I’m what those in the magical community call a ‘squib’.”

-

“What’s going to happen? Is someone going to come to take Sakura away? I won’t let that happen.”

“No, no, Mebuki! Usually, Muggle parents don’t find out all of the details until their child turns eleven, at least here in Britain, that is, when a staff member from Hogwarts comes to deliver the young witch or wizard’s acceptance letter. But I’ll be sure to help you guys with any questions you have until that time comes.”

“Hogwarts?”

-

Sakura was never given a direct explanation, considering she was so young, but she heard the word ‘magic’ thrown around so often in her and Tenten’s home that she began to understand on her own. Any research her six-year-old self tried to conduct only ended with children’s books about fairies and dragons, frowning down at the books in the kid’s section of the library. Taro assured her parents that he would always be available if anything ever happened or if the... magic got out of hand.

And Sakura clung to the word ‘Hogwarts’ and embedded that overheard conversation in her memory, counting down the years, months, days to her eleventh birthday and when she’d finally learn just why she could make her paper dolls dance and convince the flowers to grow in the winter.

She religiously wore Tenten’s panda clip in her permanently pink hair, blushing shyly when her parents cooed over how cute it looked and how well it matched her new hair color. They never tried to make Sakura hide her pink locks, always assuring her that they loved it, that they loved her and were proud of her... abilities.

Sure, Sakura’s school teacher didn’t seem to approve of Sakura’s new hair, but Mebuki and Kizashi insisted that their daughter was never too young to express herself.

(Though, they did assure the woman that it was a child-safe powder dye.)

While Taro had neither the authority to properly explain magic nor the ability to even begin to teach them to control it, Sakura and Tenten experimented and played on their own, testing what they could do if they focused hard enough and excitedly recounting the day’s exploits with each other. The parents watched on in both awe and pride, listening attentively to Taro’s explanations of what this magical school would be like for the girl’s.

And five years passed without incident.

Tenten’s Hogwarts visitor and accompanying acceptance letter came the day of her eleventh birthday, March 9th, and she spent the entirety of the next day showing it to Sakura, when the pinkette had come to bring her friend her birthday gift. Her expression was excited and overjoyed as she told her that her father said that they’d all be going to get their school supplies together when the weeks-younger girl got her letter.

Sakura was restless in the days that followed, a constant mess of jittery nerves and anticipation and her parents readily understood, rather amused and still-awed as they watched the loose papers on her desk float into the air as she paced in front of her bed. The weeks passed too slowly for her liking and she tried to occupy her time with her normal – Muggle – schoolwork, desperately trying to distract herself from her curiosity about the inevitable visit.

Finally, on the morning of March 28th, Sakura burst out of her bed with a wide grin. She quickly washed her face and got dressed, slipping on a red sundress with white leggings, the panda clip taking its place in her bangs, and her mid-back length pink hair loose. Racing downstairs, she skidded into the kitchen to the sight of her parents finishing with breakfast preparations, the pair turning to greet her with bright smiles.

“Happy birthday, Sakura!”

::

After a breakfast of strawberry waffles, eggs, bacon, and vanilla yogurt, Sakura received her birthday gifts from her parents, squealing over the new dresses and clothes and a pretty stationary set, the cover printed with her namesake, and thoroughly distracted. Mebuki and Kizashi explained that they’d be going out later that evening for a special birthday dinner at a restaurant of her choosing and it was nearing 11 AM when there was a knock at the door.

Sakura’s head snapped in the direction of the front door and her expression lit up even brighter, practically bouncing in her seat on the sofa. Prince languidly climbed into her lap and she didn’t have the heart to move him, thankful when her father moved to answer the door.

Standing in the doorway was a tall, older woman dressed in green and black robes, her black hair hidden under a tall, pointed black hat and her hands laced in front of her. She nodded in greeting as Mebuki moved to join her husband, the pair regarding the woman with rather nervous smiles.

“Good morning,” The woman greeted and Sakura continued to pet the calico, crossing and uncrossing her ankles, “Mr. and Mrs. Kizashi and Mebuki Haruno?”

Her parents were quick to nod, Mebuki resting her hand on her husband’s arm.

“Yes. Are you the Hogwart’s representative, ma’am?”

The woman seemed a little surprised by Kizashi’s question, giving a slow nod before reaching up to adjust her square spectacles. “It appears that you’ve been expecting me. Yes, I am Professor Minerva McGonagall of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Deputy Headmistress to the Headmaster Professor Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.”

A pause and Sakura was sure that she’d glanced past her parents to see her, sitting patiently on the couch.

“I’m here to speak with you about your daughter, Sakura. May I come in?”

::

Sakura spent a good hour marveling over her acceptance letter to Hogwarts, still seated on the couch long after Professor McGonagall had left. The older – kind of scary – witch had filled in the gaps Taro had left in regards to the world of magic and then spoke a long time about Hogwarts to her and her parents, Sakura practically at the edge of her seat as she devoured the information. Names and titles raced through her mind – Dumbledore, Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and so on – and Professor McGonagall had nodded in approval when her parents mentioned that their neighbor, Taro Jouda, and his wife and daughter would be accompanying them to purchase Sakura’s school supplies.

She’d informed them that the innkeeper of the Leaky Cauldron would be alerted to their eventual arrival, seeking entry to a mysterious Diagon Alley, which, apparently, would be where they would acquire the supplies. Professor McGonagall explained where and how to exchange their Muggle money for the wizarding currency, went over the list of school supplies Sakura would need, and revealed when the new school year would start.

Sakura was both relieved and distraught to learn that it would be months before she’d be going to Hogwarts.

Once everything had officially been revealed and expressed clearly, finally came the moment Sakura made her decision and she received her parent’s permission. There was no hesitation with her answer and her parents had no intention of denying her the experience and Professor McGonagall had taken the acceptance, wishing Sakura luck in the school year to come before making her departure.

Though she had looked at Tenten’s letter nearly a hundred times, she couldn’t stop staring at her own, her heart beating with anticipation and excitement as her fingers traced the schools crest at the top of the parchment.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Ms. Haruno,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

Sakura spent the rest of the day with her parents and they had to convince her to not immediately begin packing, the family laughing and embracing in growing excitement. They celebrated more than just Sakura’s birthday when they went out for dinner that night and, the next day, Tenten was at her door well before noon, a wrapped present in her hands, Sakura’s bracelet on her wrist, and her grin wide.

The girls had squealed over their letters, any nervousness pushed to the back of their minds and overwhelmed by their exhilaration, and compared their list of supplies to make sure there were no differences. Sakura was determined to prepare herself as much as she could before September arrived, creating her own checklist of supplies and anticipating the inevitable trip to Diagon Alley, a sea of possibilities flooding her eager mind.

::

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)

2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear

3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

4. One winter cloak (black, with silver fastenings)

Please note that all pupil's clothes should carry name tags.

After officially entering Diagon Alley and visiting Gringotts Wizarding Bank to obtain the proper currency, Taro had directed the group of Muggles and two witches-to-be through the bustling shopping district, a wide, if bittersweet, smile on his face as he recalled his childhood.

“I accompanied my siblings when they came to get their Hogwarts supplies every year. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to Diagon Alley, but none of the shops have changed much. First stop is to get the girls their robes!”

Visiting Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions proved to be an interesting experience.

Sakura had never had anything fitted to her before, the closest experience to standing on a stool while a witch measured her and pinned the sleeves of the long black robe being when her mother had hemmed a dress that had proved to be too long when she was eight. Her mother and father watched on in amusement as Sakura was turned this way and that, looking miserable as the witch had her stand straight and hold out her arms so that she could get the measurements right.

Tenten’s giggles quickly died when the pinkette was finally done and it was her turn.

While Mebuki and Kizashi chatted with Taro and Koko, all three asking the brown-haired man about the shops they would be heading to next, Sakura decided to do a little exploring, sending Tenten a thumbs-up and a cheeky grin before she slipped away, wandering through the shop.

It was still months before the official start of the academic year but the shop was far from empty. There were plenty of other families drifting through and around the store, child and adult alike getting fitted for robes of all sorts, and Sakura eagerly took in her surroundings.

It felt like Halloween, what with all of the dark robes and pointed hats, and Sakura wondered how out of place she looked, dressed in jeans, pink sneakers, and a dark blue shirt under a grey cardigan, her long pink hair pulled back in a loose braid.

She ran her hands over the fabric she passed, pausing as she reached another fitting area and watching quietly as an older girl with blonde hair stood patiently, being fitted into a set of fancy, pretty robes. Sakura’s attention was drawn away and she turned to leave, only to pause as she caught a flash of red out of the corner of her eye.

Peering around a rack of cloth and her hands clasped behind her back, she spotted a boy around her age sitting on a stool, expression bored and his chin in his hands as he rested his elbows on his knees, watching the blonde-haired girl. Sakura considered him for a moment, taking in the dark marks around his eyes, the tired look on his face, his short, messy red hair, and definitely not-Muggle clothing.

She was just about to pull back and return to her parents when he glanced her way, freezing when he spotted her. Sakura’s face flushed at being caught snooping and she hesitantly stepped out from behind the dark fabric, offering a tentative wave as his pale green eyes glanced over her, his expression shifting as he took in her clothing.

He didn’t say anything, however, and Sakura tried not to stare too hard at where his eyebrows should have been.

“Uhm...” He was still staring at her and Sakura nearly lost her nerve, resisting the urge to glance back in the direction of her parents and Tenten. “Hello?”

He was silent but, eventually, offered her a nod, raising his hand in a small wave.

“Hello.” He paused, gaze traveling to her hair before returning to the unnerving eye contact, the smallest, most hesitant smile quirking the corners of his lips. “...I like your hair.”

Sakura’s face quickly burned with a bright blush and her eyes dropped to the ground as she worried the hem of her shirt, a flustered smile threatening to break across her face.

She managed a hurried, flushed “Th-thank you!” before quickly turning tail and disappearing back into the shop, beelining for her parents and missing the boy’s shocked expression.

Her cheeks were still red when she finally made it back to Tenten, her friend regarding her with a quirked eyebrow that quickly melted into a sly smile as she took in Sakura’s blush and flustered smile. When the brunette was finally done with her robe fittings and their parents purchased the all of the required clothing, some minutes later, Tenten nudged her shoulder, expression curious.

Hand raised to absentmindedly brush her fingers over the panda clip in her hair, Sakura suddenly froze as she spotted something behind Tenten, face turning pink once more before she raced out of the shop, grabbing her mother’s arm and tugging her after her as an excuse to hurry up the group. Eyebrows furrowed, the brown-haired girl glanced over her shoulder to find a confused, red-haired boy watching her, his eyes darting from Tenten to the door Sakura had just run out of.

She quickly connected the dots and sent the boy a wide grin, waving happily before hurrying after her friend.

::

OTHER EQUIPMENT

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

After purchasing the girls’ books and other supplies, there was just one final item left to obtain.

Sakura stared down at the words “1 wand” as Taro led the group through Diagon Alley. They’d done most of their shopping in the North Side and their final stop in the South Side was a shop called Ollivanders. She and Tenten stared up at the narrow building in front of them for a few moments when the group finally stopped, eyes scanning the words “Makers of Fine Wands since 382 BC” before Tenten’s father ushered them inside.

The girls eagerly looked around once they passed through the door to the shop, the ringing bell announcing their arrival, and Sakura’s gaze traveling over the hundreds and hundreds of narrow boxes lining the walls. It was quiet in the shop for a few moments before Taro stepped to the front counter, leaning to glance past one of the tall row of shelves that stretched towards the back.

“Hello? Mr. Ollivander?”

There was muffled movement from further in the shop and, after a moment, a man with pale eyes and even paler hair appeared, rounding a corner of one of the shelves and holding a few of those narrow boxes in his arms. He paused as he noticed the group before a friendly smile fell over his face, carefully placing the boxes on the countertop as he welcomed them.

“Hello, hello! Welcome, my friends.” He paused once more as he noticed Tenten and Sakura and his smile turned warm, gesturing the girls forward. “Young witches here to get their first wands, eh? Step forward, my dears, and I’ll bring you a few to test out! And might I know your names?”

If he noticed that they were all wearing Muggle clothing, he didn’t comment on it.

Ollivander looked thoughtfully down at the boxes on his counter for a moment before setting all but two aside, quickly turning to trail his fingers over the stacks of boxes behind him, occasionally carefully dislodging one. Sakura felt a hand on her shoulder and glanced up to see her father smiling encouragingly down at her, gently nudging her forward. Tenten’s father did the same and the pair stood nervously in front of the countertop, waiting for the man to return and finally replying.

“I’m Sakura.” The pinkette answered, hands clasped behind her back.

“And I’m Tenten.” The girls shared glances and watched the nodding man shuffle around the shop, the anticipation steadily building as he made his way back to the counter.

With a sizeable pile of boxes stacked on the tabletop, the wandmaker opened a pair of boxes, peering down at the contents thoughtfully before holding a wand each out to the girls. Tenten accepted the offered wand with slightly less hesitance than Sakura, eyebrow raised as she glanced up at Ollivander.

“Just give them a wave and we’ll see how they fit.”

Sakura glanced up from inspecting her wand, smiling shyly at the man’s warm tone before looking at Tenten. Her expression was encouraging and the brunette sent her a quick smile, giving the wand a quick wave through the air.

Almost instantly, the floorboards under her shook and groaned, causing her to jump back in surprise as they gave a very animal-like shudder before falling still, her wary gaze on the wood when she carefully took her place again. Tenten looked to Ollivander and he shook his head thoughtfully, mumbling to himself as he took the wand back when she held it out to him.

“That would be a no...” He paused, hands already on another box, and looked at Sakura, that kind smile returning. “Your turn, my dear.”

Sakura stared down at the wand in her hand for another moment before holding it away from herself, waving it through the air. A small puff of smoke burst from the end when her hand stilled, a pitiful ember falling to the ground and her father quickly stepping forward to smother it under his shoe, just in case.

Frowning, Sakura returned the wand to Ollivander, accepting the next he offered to her.

The girls went through another three wands each, a small puddle under Tenten’s feet and a broken window behind Sakura, and they were looking more and more disappointed, almost reluctantly accepting the next pair of wands from the smiling wandmaker.

“Is there something wrong with us?” Sakura muttered aloud when her wave made the thick, open book on the counter slam shut with a loud thud, the book falling to the ground moments later. Tenten dodged an oncoming gust of dirt and dust that swept up from towards the back of the shop and gave a frustrated sigh, lips pursed.

“The wand chooses the witch.” Ollivander answered patiently, holding out another pair of wands. “It often takes young witches and wizards dozens of wands before they find their match. Never fear, girls!”

The next wand was in Tenten’s hand moments before Sakura reached hers and there was a shift in the air. A gentle wind began to blow around the brunette’s ankles, fresh green leaves appearing from thin air and twirling around her legs as the breeze rose around her.

Behind the pair, the parents were at attention, all eyes wide and excited as they watched Tenten, expressions lighting up. Sakura stepped to the side as the wind continued to swirl around her friend, a smile brightening her face as the leaves danced and spun before suddenly glowing and bursting into tiny fireworks-like explosions, raining down a shower of sparkles around the brunette as the wind dissipated.

Tenten stared down at the wand in her hand before meeting Sakura’s bright eyes, slowly looking to the smiling wandmaker.

“There we are, my dear.” He held out his hand and Tenten hesitantly returned the wand, still mesmerized by what had just happened.

Ollivander looked over the wand for a moment before gently retuning it to its box and handing it back to the dazzled girl.

“Elm wood,” he began, giving a description of the wand that had just chosen Tenten, “Dragon heartstring core, eleven and one-fourth inches, and encouragingly swishy.”

Tenten accepted the box and carefully held it in her arms, grinning widely as she glanced to her friend. Sakura was nearly bouncing on her heels and dropped her gaze to the wand she’d yet to take in hand, thinking that, just maybe, this would be her match now as well.

Ollivander nodded and held it out to her, offering a brief description as she reached out.

“Cherry wood with a unicorn hair core.”

Sakura’s eyes lit up and she eagerly accepted it, frowning slightly when there was no reaction. She gave it a hesitant wave and a few shelves nearby were quickly emptied of their contents as the boxes were flung to the floor.

She quickly handed it back with a sigh, shoulders slumping and disappointment radiating from her form.

Tenten had moved back to join the adults and Sakura went through another four wands before there was finally a change.

She took a steadying, determined breath in through her nose as she took the next wand in hand, eyebrows furrowing when there was, again, no immediate reaction like with Tenten’s elm wand. Sakura was only about halfway through raising the new wand for a flick when a comforting wave of warmth washed over her, starting from her hand and spreading throughout her body.

She heard a delighted set of gasps behind her and she lowered her hand, staring in awe as she realized that her hand and the wand were encompassed in a soft green glow, streaks of blue swirling outwards. A smile quickly spreading over her face, she felt the ends of her cardigan raise and flutter in an unseen wind, her long hair lifting around her in a pink halo and the blue and green glow spreading further up her arm. She felt something brush her leg and the pinkette glanced down to see thin vines and branches sprout out from under her feet, her namesake budding and blooming.

Sakura nearly cried.

When the magic finally settled, her hair falling back in place, the glow disappearing, and the plants shrinking back into the floorboards, she looked up at Ollivander, a hopeful smile on her face.

He regarded her with a very pleased look, holding out his hand for the light brown wand.

Once it was tucked back into its box and returned to her, Sakura’s parents coming to stop behind her as her mother hugged her and her father ruffled her hair, the wandmaker spoke.

“Larch wood with a unicorn hair core, ten and three-fourths inches, with unyielding flexibility.” The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled brightly, looking between Sakura and Tenten.

“Congratulations, my dears. You have your wands – treat them well and they will serve you the same.”

::

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

“You mean... I can really take Prince with me to Hogwarts?”

“He’s been watching over you since you were a baby. I’d want nothing more than for him to watch out for you while you’re away at school too!”

“Besides, he’d miss you too much if you left without him. Silly cat.”

::

Sakura, Tenten, and their parents arrived at King’s Cross Station at 10:15 AM, the girls’ luggage piled on their trolley’s and the adults regarding the grinning Taro with confusion as he said they were heading for Platform 9¾.

Nine and three-quarters?

Despite everyone’s initial hesitance – excluding Tenten’s father, of course – the group made it through the magical wall between Platforms 9 and 10, arriving on the bustling platform housing the Hogwarts Express. It was still fairly early, nearly half an hour now before the train was supposed to leave, but the scarlet steam engine was already waiting, various students and parents dressed in Muggle and Wizarding clothing alike walking around the platform and loading the train.

The girls waited with their parents as they passed the time leading up to the departure, and, finally their luggage was tagged and loaded up and Sakura sent Prince, meowing in his carrier, a quick goodbye before turning to her parents. Her mother was wearing a proud smile while her father reached down to ruffle her hair, tears gathering in his eyes as he grinned.

“I’ll write all the time, I promise!”

Kizashi barked a laugh and pulled her in for a hug, Mebuki quickly joining as she pulled her family close, all three piling together for a long embrace. Sakura was fighting back tears by the time they parted, her smile unwavering even when Kizashi pressed a quick kiss to the top of her head and Mebuki combed her fingers through her loose hair one last time.

Tenten was finishing up her goodbyes with her parents as well and turned to Sakura with an excited smile, letting out a surprised sound when Mebuki and Kizashi pulled the brunette in for a quick hug. Sakura’s laugh was cut off when Koko and Taro did the same, wishing her luck on her year at Hogwarts.

By the time they were finally done, it was time to load up onto the train. The girls quickly found an empty compartment and opened the window, searching for their parents amongst the crowd of adults sending their children off. Sakura was spotted before she could see her parents, quickly hearing them call her name as she looked out over the crowd. The two girls waved enthusiastically out the window, all bright eyes and wide grins, and their calls of farewell were drowned out by the cry of the Hogwarts Express’ engine.

Within moments, the train began to move, pulling out of the station and down the tracks, away, away, away and on towards Hogwarts.

[fell-in-love-didnt-you]

A Morning After: SnowBaz Fanfic

This is the only way I could post this without the formatting having weird symbols. I've contacted the help center for tumblr, but I haven't heard anything back yet. Sorry for this delayed fic and the inconvenience.

Request from so-many-lines for a rewritten after chapter 61. Hope this is what you wanted! I had fun writing this one. For the Nonny with the other request: that was the fic I was trying to post, but it got really bleh when I copied it. Sorry, but it's coming soon.

link to their blog- https://so-many-lines.tumblr.com/

-------

Baz wakes like a grumpy old man, though I don’t know why I expected anything else. He cracks his back and groans in satisfaction, and I can’t help but stifle a snicker to myself. He reminds me so much of the runners of the many orphanages I spent my childhood in, waking up with dissatisfaction every morning and cracking their necks and backs before starting the day. Though, none of the heads of the orphanages kissed me silly before falling asleep in my arms.

I don’t really know what I’m supposed to expect this morning. The only place I’ve ever been kissed is my mouth, and Agatha never really wanted to kiss me anyways. I’m not even sure what my neck looks like now. I have the vague memories of Baz biting down and myself giggling at the ticklish sensation mixed with the strange feelings of…something stirring in my stomach.

Baz notices I’m awake and looks at me over his shoulders, yawning as he stares me down. I’m still flush against his couch, his plain shirt riding up to reveal the little patch of hair on my stomach that disappears into my boxers. I see his eyes trail across and over my body, and I smile sleepily as I stretch my arms above my head.

“You don’t just get to watch me,” I mutter, still stretching, “because we’re snogging.” Baz huffs out one of his indignant breaths and looks back over his shoulder away from me.

“Because we’ve snogged,” he corrects, rising from the couch and walking over to the door. He turns around to look at me and then reaches into his wardrobe, searching around for something before he throws a few articles of clothing at me. “Get dressed, Snow. The girls are coming over.” He exits the room before I can ask any questions and leaves me to dress myself. I stand slowly and shrug off his posh pajama pants before tugging on the trackies he threw at me. I turn around to the window to take my shirt off, and before I can slip the new one on, I hear the door open behind me.

I look over my shoulder to see Baz dragging in a whiteboard, his back turned to me. I chuckle quietly to myself, balling the shirt in front of me before turning and walking over to the board. Baz has taken a purple marker and is now making column labeled Everything we know and Everything we still don’t know. He hasn’t turned to look at me, and he’s writing things under the columns when I speak up.

“You know, we could figure this out without the girls.” He turns to look at me with what I assume was going to be a frown and a snappy remark, but he stops when he realizes I’m shirtless. He just swallows and turns back around, continuing to write things under the columns.

I place my hand over his on the board, messing up the word he was writing. He puts the marker down and turns to me, looking down with a heavy expression on. “Snow,” he begins, taking in a deep breath.

“Don’t tell me that this doesn’t mean anything,” I say, cutting him off and pressing closer to him. I bring my hands up to his chest and look up at him through my lashes. “I mean,” I begin, my voice dropping as I continue, “I know you wouldn’t have kissed me like that if it didn’t mean anything. I know how people kiss when they don’t mean it.”

“Snow,” Baz repeats, clearly trying to collect his thoughts. “You don’t even know if you’re gay.” I squint up at him and let out a laugh.

“I don’t need to be gay to know that I at least have somewhat of a liking towards you,” I retort, my hands beginning to curl into themselves. When he looks at me again like I’ve disappointed him, I let my hands drop. However, he catches one of them in his hand, and Baz presses his forehead against mine. It’s obvious that he’s as weak when it comes to me as I am when it comes to him. “Kiss me,” I whisper.

And he doesn’t object as he leans in and cups my neck with his hand. His lips move away from mine seconds later to kiss along my jaw and eventually my neck, and he begins to leaves small love bites instead. As my eyes roll closed and my head falls back, someone clears their throat. Baz is off of me in seconds and three feet away from me, and I turn with my hand to my neck where he just kissed me. My ears and cheeks are burning bright red, and I bring my other hand up to cool them. I hear Baz talking in hushed tones with someone, and then someone leaves the room. Baz comes up behind me and presses a longer, open-mouthed kiss to my neck before saying, “You should probably put a shirt on. I don’t want to jump you while the girls are here.”

He’s gone before I can even blush at that, and I quickly pull on the shirt I abandoned on the floor minutes before. The footsteps and voices from the hallway draw my attention to the door. It opens, and I see Baz again, but behind him are Agatha and Penny. Penny’s eyebrows draw together when she sees me, and I look down to avoid her eyes. Agatha and Baz are speaking to one another about something, and Penny sits down on the couch behind me. My hand is still covering my neck, and I look up to see Baz and Agatha staring at me.

“What?” I ask, a bit harsher than I meant to. Baz shakes his head and looks away.

“I’ll go get tea,” he announces, leaving the room with just me and the girls inside. Agatha walks over to me with a hard expression on her face.

“What the hell, Simon?” she demands, inches away from my face. “Why are you here?”

I look over to Penny for help, but she’s not looking at me. Her eyes are trained on the whiteboard behind me. She rises from her seat and walks by me, studying what Baz has written before adding something to one of the columns. She then turns to me and points at my arm. I sigh before letting my hand down, and Agatha’s quicker than Penny, though she’s wrong.

“Did he bite you in your sleep or something?” she demands, moving my head to get a better look at the bite marks there. “What the hell were you honestly thinking?” I pull back from her grip and turn around.

“It’s not that,” I mutter, walking once again toward the window. “It’s none of your business, okay? It’s nothing.” Baz walks in with the tea then, and by the fake smile on his face, I know he heard what I just said, but he completely ignores me.

Hours later, when I’ve escaped the prying eyes of Penny and Agatha and the horrid ride away from Baz’s mansion, I’m standing in Baz’s room uncomfortably, and he’s purposely looking away from me. The awkward dinner we just sat through is over, but he still hasn’t said anything other than what he did in the foyer about two hours ago.

I walk over to his bed and sit down on the edge by his feet, swallowing thickly before speaking. “I didn’t mean what I said to the girls earlier today.” Baz frowns at his pantleg and picks at a crease in his dress pants, still not looking at me. I stand and walk up to where he is, walking back to where he’s sitting and sitting down beside him.

He raises his eyebrows seemingly to himself and huffs out a breath. “Of course, you didn’t,” he responds, his voice teetering on the edge of anger and sarcasm. He looks up at me with a painfully neutral expression and smiles sickly sweet. “Why would you?” he asks. I look away from him and draw my bottom lip in between my teeth. “I mean, it’s not like moments before we were doing something the Westboro Baptist Church would kill us for.”

I look back at him with my jaw clenched and an angry expression. I move onto the bed and sit in front of him, practically straddling his hips as I take his face in my hands and force him to look at me. “Look,” I spit out, his angry eyes locking with mine, “if I wasn’t afraid of their reaction, I would’ve told them. Penny has a lesbian roommate, for Merlin’s sake, but she wouldn’t come around to this after two minutes when you come in the door and confirmed it. I hardly think she’ll come around to it when I eventually have to tell her that I just don’t like anyone but you.”

Baz does that thing where he tries to hide his emotions with a frown, but I can see the cogs wearing behind his eyes. “So just,” I begin, looking up towards the ceiling before staring back down at him, “kiss me and forget about what happened before, because I came back to see you and kiss you and be here with you.”

Baz doesn’t wait long before leaning up and gently pressing his lips against mine, slowly moving them and turning his head and kissing me deeper. I move my head and offer my neck to him, sighing in relief when I feel him kissing me like last night. I get lost in these kisses, and when Baz bares his teeth across my neck, I smile and move back down to kiss him.

[brewblade]

new friends, old faces;

Gazing down at his reflection in the crystal clear pond, Alaeris could physically see how harried he looked. He had bags under his eyes he swore he never noticed before, the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth seemed to deepen with each passing minute. There was a crease in between his eyebrows he told himself he never saw before today, but he easily brushed it off and blamed it on his chagrin expression. He really looked worse for wear. He could see it. It didn’t help his abdomen was wound tightly in cloth bandaging, dried crimson painting a stark contrast against the fresh white of the cotton. If he maneuvered at just the wrong angle, he could feel every bundle of nerves scream in agony, the telling sign of his wound reopening. And he didn’t want that. So he sat, carefully, coyly, with his knees bent and his legs crossed gently on his lap. His shoulders slouched as his hands poised themselves over his newfound dilemma, teal mist coalescing at his fingertips as the pain soon subsided, replaced instead with a numb, tingly sensation. 

“Grandmaster, there you are!” 

A cheerful voice caught his attention, bringing Alaeris out of his mellow stupor and whipping his head around to see where the familiar voice had come from. His eyes settled themselves upon the source — a small, lithe figure, with dark blue hair and a soft expression on her face. One of his many trainees! He had a sneaking suspicion as to what brought her over his way, and as he noticed the shiny, delicious looking apple in her hand, his suspicions were all but confirmed. “Master Hwong told me to bring you this, he said you look like you haven’t eaten in a fortnite.” She tossed the fruit with mindful consideration, opting for a lofty throw instead of a straightforward swing. Alaeris caught the snack with relative ease, rubbing it on his pantleg before taking a crispy bite. He felt ravenous, starving — as if his body couldn’t keep up with his spirit — it was simple enough to nourish the latter, after all. 

“Give Master Hwong my regards when you see him, and tell him I didn’t know he cared so deeply for my needs.” He meant it in jest, but when his words reached his own ears, he could hear the venom in them — carefully hidden behind a transparent layer of hurt, one of self -sabotage. He spent too much time apart from this aspect of his life, he knew this. And in his absence followed a trail of other people picking up the pieces of the mess he made. “Sir,” once again he found himself ripped out of his stupor, bringing him back to reality where his fears and doubts had a much harder time eating at him. “If you don’t mind me interjecting...we all care about you. You’re our Grandmaster, our teacher, our role model! You’ve helped us become the students we are today. And one day, under your leadership, we’ll all be great monks — just like you.” Alaeris couldn’t help the tears that pooled at his eyes, the ones that slid down his battered cheeks, or the ones he swallowed in the back of his throat. He had felt numb to emotion for so long, turned away from it when he saw the chance, pushed it aside and added it as one more thing on his to-do list, that now when he’s confronted with it, his back against the wall with no where to run, he felt as thought he might collapse from the weight of it. His thoughts race as his mind struggles to keep pace, a million things he wants to say quickly die on his tongue in the wake of it, but the one thing he does manage is a croaky, “Thank you.” 

And he means it, undoubtedly, like his life depended on it.

[isthisyoursnack]

Mnemosyne

Look at his dainty ankle does he even know he has it?

A Modigliani at the end of his leg, thin sock (o! Fortune that it is so thin, so thin we can see the bone contours) into elegant shoe

It glints like impasto

Under a careless haberdashed-off pleat of a pantleg

I am sure under the creased leather is a sea of winsome clavicles.