#only to have them stretch in a very unsightly way around my hips and thighs and STILL BE TOO FUCKING LONG

[reflectionsofgalaxies]

i’ve been cursed by beautiful wide hips that i do not want, and thick thighs that make finding pants that fit near fucking impossible.

if dresses weren’t seen by most people as inherently feminine and i wasn’t wildly uncomfortable being seen in them most of the time, i would wear dresses and nothing else simply for ease of not having to find pants that fit or match my shirts.

[bump1nthen1ght]

A Very Monstrous Kinktober: Day 8 (Breeding)

Kink: Breeding

Pairing: Male!Naga x Fem!Reader

Other Kinks: Slight Degradation

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1173 words

Kinktober Masterlist

Prince Dendra was everything a crown prince should be. Effortlessly refined, with a cool and detached voice which commanded respect in every room he entered. With a face and body carved like marble, the royal jewelry he wore around his neck and forehead evoked not greed but elegance, with jet-black hair always perfectly combed and brushed behind his ears. No action of his seemed unsightly, or unplanned. He’s the people’s and his parent’s favorite, he seems born to rule.

Even now, with his hair loose around his shoulders and his tongue deep in your pussy, there was no mistaking that he was the one in control.

“Your highness!”

Your legs shake and spasm around the Prince's head, another orgasm coerced out of you by his skilled mouth. This is the third of the night, having already been stretched out on the Prince’s fingers not 10 minutes earlier. Like everything else, Prince Dendra was thorough in maintaining your pleasure. And even though he insisted it was because intercourse was most effective when the woman orgasmed, he played your body with an eagerness unlike himself in other affairs.

You rarely heard sweet words from your future husband, usually just polite endearments and technical terms like “My fiancee” or the classic “Jewel of my crown” often used by Naga royalty.

But in the bedroom, Prince Dendra was voracious for them. His pet names ranged from loving to depraved: “My sweet” and “Darling” alongside “Whore” and “Cumslut.”

It may have been discombobulating, but in the heat if the moment those names just stir the fire in your gut. Dendra himself prefers only to he called “His highness” or “my king” in the bedroom; scandalous considering he was still yet to be coronated.

Prince Dendra pats your thigh, quickly pulling at your hips and flipping you on to your stomach. This is his preferred position for breeding, as he loves to dig his fingers and leave bruises in your hips, alongside watching your ass bounce against his cock.

“Fuck.” Prince Dendra swears under his breath, quickly sinking into your cunt. You moan into the pillow, fingers already clenching into the bed sheets, anticipating the hard spank against your ass before it comss. “You were made for this.” Prince Dendra growls, snapping his hips with a ferocity unbecoming of his station. You whine.

He snaps again, pressing hard against your g-spot. “Cunt, wrapped around my cock. Milking me for my royal seed.”

“Your highness…” You plead, wiggling your hips. Your pussy craves his cock, stretched into its shape by several nights of breeding.

“So desperate for it.” Prince Dendra begins thrusting his hips like a beast, raised up on his tail. You can imagine the way his abdomen clenches, balanced in the appendage as he fucks into you. “To think, my fiancee was such a depraved cum slut.” Prince Dendra enunciates the t, yanking your hips back into his cock. “So desperate to be bred, parading yourself around the castle in your new royal colors. You practically beg to be fucked, to be bent over and stuffed full.”

You nod into the pillow, tears dripping down from the side of your eyes. Bolts of electricity shoot up your spine with every thrust, already prepared for how your lower back will ache tomorrow morning.

You feel the defined bone of Prince Dendra’s pelvis hitting your backside, digging into the fat. But then you feel his stomach press against your back, his large hand pressed down on the pillows as he finds a new angle.

“These hips…” Prince Dendra pants right into your ear, his long hair curtaining your neck, “...we’re designed for my hands. For bearing my children. For bearing your king’s children.” His voice is a snarl, like he’s trying to convince himself as much as you. “The gods themselves crafted you for me, sent me a wife to fuck and breed.” Fabric rips as the Prince’s claws dig open the duvet below, goose feathers sticking through the tears. His other hand, still on your hips, grips hard enough to leave bruises, just as the Prince likes.

That hand moves up from your hip and grabs your neck, yanking it back at an awkward angle. A moan strangles in your throat, morphing into a long whine when Prince Dendra begins sucking at your pulse. His serpentine tongue can wrap almost entirely around your neck, strong enough to leave collar like marks on the skin.

He’ll leave several hickeys, just like previous nights, but will always insist you cover them up. They’re for his eyes only, the mark of your husband, the mark of your highness.

“My k-king.” You whimper, feeling his cock jump inside you. “I’m getting c-close.” Prince Dendra pulls away from your neck, just enough to whisper-

“I know. I can feel your cunt tightening up, girl.” That tongue licks across your neck, eventually moving up to your shoulders and down your back. Prince Dendra rests his forehead between your shoulder blades, letting go of your sore nexk and setting his hand down onto the bed. “Arch your back.”

You follow the Prince's order, laying your chest flat on the bed and pressing your hips against him. The Prince pants above you. “That’s a good bitch.” The Prince purrs. “Chase your orgasm, milk my cock.” He derides, as if he is not as horny as you are. His cock throbs inside you, gushing pre cum as his tail flexes. He’s close too, but he always lets you cum first.

You’re too inebriated to argue, feeling your abdomen tighten as you get closer and closer. Your voice devolved into quick, high-pitched squeals.

“Yes, yes.” The Prince whispers. “C’mon, beg for it.”

“P-please!” Your throat aches, your body inching ever nearer to climax. “Give me your cum, my king! Breed me, my king!”

Prince Dendra rewards you with several hard thrusts, right up against your cervix. It’s enough to send you over the edge, pussy fluttering as it does in fact, milk your highness’ cock. Soon after, warm spurts of cum fill your pussy, enough to spill out from the side of the Prince’s erection and onto the silk bed sheets.

The Prince collapses on top of you, making sure to keep his cock sheathed and plugging your pussy. He sees it as sacrilege to waste his royal semen, and always makes sure to keep you full for at least 20 minutes after climax.

He does allow you to get in a more comfortable position, falling to the side and spooning your back, lovingly rubbing your hips and belly.

“I think we may have done it this time, my love.” Prince Dendra whispers in your ear. “I can’t wait to see you, round with my child. I don’t know-” The Prince chuckles, “-I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop myself from breeding you, even when you're pregnant.”

You just nod, aching body slowly fading into unconsciousness. Hopefully the Prince is right. As pleasurable as it is, you’re not sure you could take 4 more days of this.

[akitokihojo]

Enchanted - Ever After

Soooooooo, today’s the one year anniversary of Enchanted, and when I realized this date was coming a month ago, this particular idea came to mind. I’d be lying if I said I’d never thought about what happened after the story ended, so here we are. An additional epilogue to wrap everything up.

I hope you enjoy this. Thanks so much for reading, friends!

----------

Five years had come and gone in the blink of an eye. From royalty lessons - years’ worth crammed into exhausting months, to maintaining her apprenticeship with the apothecary, to politics, to appearances. From staying out of the way of the king entirely, to him warming up to her to the point where he would actually look in her general direction - because this was King Sesshomaru, of course, and his version of warmth was the consideration of not inching his chin upward in superiority. From growing fully acclimated to being addressed as a princess, to the appropriateness a princess is expected to uphold, to the wonderful, loving, and bountiful payout of spending the remainder of her life by Prince Inuyasha’s side.

Kagome softly grazed the very tips of her fingers over the small swell of her stomach, the scarlet dress she wore comfortably accommodating the bump. She’d groaned when they’d brought out the damned carriage for their journey, always having loved the freedom of horseback. She felt so doted on in a carriage, so helpless, and it grabbed a large amount of attention. Attention everyone preferred to avoid. Horseback meant she could explore as they traveled. Horseback meant she could keep up with the lot, and take up responsibility to help. But, life was growing, and to protect that life, riding alongside her partner in open nature was no longer an option. Inuyasha, on the other hand, was seemingly unbothered by the changes that came. Over the passing weeks, he let her sleep as her fatigue robbed her of her energy, he wiped her tears when her building emotions made her weep over a litter of kittens born in the stables - he laughed though; he isn’t that nice, he brought her food and snacks before she even spoke of hunger, and he was the one whom insisted upon the carriage if she were to join them. He accepted her meager complaints with a complaisant grin, his ember eyes appeared more vibrant than ever, and without request, prodding, or persuasion, Inuyasha willingly chose to ride with her in the carriage. So she wasn’t alone, he’d said. Where she went, he went, he’d said. Shut it and stop questioning me already, he’d said.

“My darling husband?” Kagome spoke gently, her voice just above a hush as she placed her palm flat at the top of her tummy.

“My beloved wife?” Inuyasha hummed in return, sitting across from her, golden gaze fluttering up to her face for a brief moment before they washed back down to the ankle of hers that he sweetly massaged, resting along his thigh. His large hands pushed the hem of her dress a little further up her shin as he rubbed the heat of his palms over them, smoothing over her soft flesh, and back to her foot where he gently and mindlessly kneaded.

“There’s a chance that my stomach will grow large. With that growth may come stretch marks. They may be light, they may be dark, I may get lucky and receive none, or they may appear unsightly. Will you still love my body then?” A part of her knew the answer, but the dominating and self conscious part wanted reassurance that her worries were nothing more than in her head.

Inuyasha fought the chuckled that welled in his throat, subsiding it with a simple huff as an honest smirk curved at his lips. His fingers stopped their massaging, eyes giving her his full attention while he deliberated on his answer.  “You must not be paying as close attention as I thought you were.” He said.

Kagome’s brows twitched inward in curious speculation.

Inuyasha whispered as he continued, “Those nights when I slowly remove your clothing, taking my damn time, doing as I please. Those nights when I lay you down, pinning you beneath me, kissing every inch of you until you’re squirming.” He proudly noted the way her cheeks deepened in color, the way her lips pressed tightly together in embarrassment as she clearly hoped no one outside of the carriage could hear him. Inuyasha sucked in a breath between his teeth, shrugging his brows as he looked away to find her shoe, gently slipping the flat back onto her foot and placing it along the floor before crossing the small gap to sit beside her. With a simple tug on her outer thigh, the prince moved his princess to face him better as he leaned closer to her ear. “Now, I definitely thought you knew what I was doing. You seem to like it. Then again, you seem to like any attention I give you - gentle or otherwise.”

All Kagome could muster was a breathy huff in reply, the heat of her face overwhelming, the heat of his breath furthermore, the heat of his palm soaking through the cloth of her dress distracting, and the heat of his words bringing her back to just the other night.

“I have a tendency, I find, to linger around your thighs. Your hips. Your ass.”

She giggled that time.

“Particularly, here.” Inuyasha admitted, his hand traveling upward to squeeze the fleshy area of hip and leg. “See, you have these stretch marks on both sides.” Another breath sucked between his teeth as he nudged her jaw out of his way, pressing a small kiss to the delicate skin just beneath. “I don’t think words would do my adoration of them justice. If you asked me to worship your stretch marks, I’d drop to my knees. If you told me to kiss them until the end of time, I’d consider myself the luckiest man to live with not a moment to waste. You have these stretch marks because your body and curves were specifically designed to torture me.” He rumbled, quickly maneuvering her legs to rest over his so he could curl his fingers over the thickness of her bottom. “How do you not realize that if you just so happen to develop stretch marks on your stomach from bearing my child, you would merely be giving me more to revere? I’m disappointed in you, Kagome. Everything you idiotically think is a blemish is gold in my eyes, and I thought I’d made that perfectly clear by now. Unless -“ He nipped her neck, and he could physically feel the way her body tensed so she wouldn’t make a noise. “Unless I need to refresh your memory? Or do you understand now?”

Voice higher than normal, shaken, betraying, Kagome responded with a hummed yes to convey her understanding. Inuyasha smiled against her neck, placing one last kiss there before pulling back with the most arrogant smirk she’d ever seen on his handsome face - and that was saying something. Carefully, he readjusted her sitting position, gliding his hand over the little swell of her abdomen as he kissed her cheek, and returned to his original side of the carriage. As if nothing had happened, Inuyasha gestured for her unattended to foot, slipping the flat off and massaging.

Kagome had to stare out the crack of the curtain of the window to distract herself, waiting for the blush that warmed her face to finally fade away as her flustered state took its sweet time dwindling.

“You know, a simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed.”

“No, it wouldn’t have!” Inuyasha laughed, shaking his head, his pride still obviously through the roof. 

“You’re an evil man.”

“I’m rubbing your feet, am I not?” His laugh faded to a light chuckle, delight painted in his smile, bringing her to laugh as well.

As the silence came forth, comfortable and balanced, Kagome pursed her lips, her mind still occupied. “But, when we get home, I wouldn’t mind -“

“I know.” Inuyasha nodded, a crooked angle to his grin as he stared out the crack in the curtain. “You’ll get it.”

Kagome giggled, playfully flicking her foot at him as he continued to knead away the tension.

The sound of the hooves of prancing horses surrounding them played into her contentment, the wheels of the carriage on the dirt road they traveled mostly smooth, rumbling, calming. There was the slight murmur of guards as they idly chatted with one another, an occasional call from birds they passed, and the distinct huff from the horse Miroku rode just outside the door.

It was impossible not to notice the flick of an ear atop Inuyasha’s head as his attention was grasped. Had she not already been looking at him - discreetly admiring him, really - the heavy twitch of the appendage would have caught her eye, anyway. His brows furrowed slightly, amber eyes staring at nothing as he focused on his heightened senses before assertively striking the top of the carriage wall with the side of his fist. All conversation outside died, traffic slowing until they stopped completely just seconds later.

“What’s wrong?” Kagome asked, sitting up straight to take her foot back but Inuyasha held onto her, making sure to place her flat back on her heel before gently planting it on the floor.

“Nothing.”

“Liar.”

“Could be nothing.” Inuyasha suggested, pushing the door open as he stepped out, hopping down to the dirt road. His tone changed as he spoke to the knights around, lowering to the authoritative level the prince only carried when giving orders. “Report.”

“Koga’s already checking it out, Your Highness.” Miroku responded, gesturing to the beautifully freckled and rider-less horse whose reins were held firmly by another knight. Swinging his leg from over his steed, he dismounted to stand level with the prince.

“What was that?”

“Sounded like a child. Maybe it’s lost.” Sango mentioned as she joined the two.

Inuyasha instantaneously tensed, his nose scrunching before he twisted around to face his maternal-instinct-ridden wife, his finger pointed at her sternly as she was just about to climb out. “No.”

“What!?” Kagome responded defensively.

“No.” Inuyasha chuckled.

“But -“

“No.”

“I want to help!”

“Nothing’s even been confirmed yet! Sit!”

Kagome dropped her butt to sit in the entry, feet propped on the top step as she crossed her arms with a pouty huff.

“I heard something else.” He mentioned, turning his attention back to his aides and the two other guards that stood by. “Something quick. Maybe large; it’s hard to tell.” The prince leaned closer to quietly whisper the rest to those involved so as not to upset Kagome. “But, I smell blood.”

“Probably why Koga rushed off so quickly.” Miroku nodded understandingly.

“Maybe he should have backup just in case.” Sango offered.

“No. Not yet. His instincts are sharp; he wouldn’t have gone on his own if he didn’t feel like he could handle it. He’ll signal if he needs somebody.”

“And, if he doesn’t?” Sango countered.

“He’s got five minutes.” Inuyasha sighed.

The prince was fully prepared to follow Koga’s scent into the forest if his allotted time had run out, leaving the rest to protect his princess if anything happened. His sword was already along his hip, his senses were attuned to his surroundings, and as he leaned against the side of the carriage, his shoulder resting against Kagome’s thigh, he counted down the minutes. No signal was sent as of yet, and his golden eyes were trained in the direction he’d gone. 

He’d heard walking coming through an unmarked trail in the woods, the smell of blood growing more prominent, but as it all came closer, Inuyasha could easily tell it wasn’t a large amount. It was there, but no one was bleeding out, nor were they about to see a gruesome scene. 

Koga emerged onto the path carrying a small boy, little arms wrapped around his shoulders as the wolf demon knight rubbed his back soothingly. The child was clearly demon, the tiny feet appearing at the bottom of his pants padded like paws, and the tail poking through bushy, slightly frazzled, and speaking of his anxiety.

“Little guy got snagged by a hunting trap.” Koga mentioned as Inuyasha stood up straight, alert. “His leg’s hurt.”

With a deep sigh, Kagome carefully maneuvered her way down the steps, adjusting her scarlet dress as she reached the ground, and walked toward Koga cautiously. The last thing she wanted was to approach quickly and startle the little boy further. She stopped with room to spare, curving toward Koga’s side so she could see the child’s face as he peeked from the crook of Koga’s neck.

“Hi there.” Kagome smiled warmly, her brown eyes meeting his green. “My name’s Kagome. What’s yours?”

He didn’t respond, his small hands not yet releasing their grip on the guard’s coat.

“He hasn’t spoken.” Koga mentioned. “I tried getting his name earlier.”

“Oh, well that’s alright.” She sweetly assured. “You must be frightened. I promise you, not a soul here will hurt you. We only mean to help. And, I’ve got a few things with me that might make your leg feel better. Would it be okay if I took a quick look?”

The young boy apprehensively nodded, and Kagome carefully pulled up the dirtied leg of his pants, eyeing the wound that marred the flesh above his ankle. It wasn’t severe, it wasn’t broken, so she imagined it must have been a rope snare that caught him. Rope that was coarse, tattered, and tightened at a bad angle to inflict this sort of damage. Something definitely meant for an animal.

“You poor thing.” Kagome breathed. “May I bandage it for you?”

With less hesitation this time, he nodded again.

“Would you like to come with me, or would you be more comfortable with Koga holding you while I did it?”

He reached for her, finally releasing his grip on the knight, and she’d be a rotten liar if she denied that her heart sputtered heavily within her chest at the adorable action. He nestled into her arms, resting his chin on her shoulder as he gripped the back of her neck, his copper hair tickling her cheek but nothing she minded in the least as she carried him back toward the carriage. The guards were kind enough to give them space as she made her way toward the back, seeking out the small case with her supplies.

“I’ve got it.” Inuyasha offered, gently pushing her hand aside so he could un-wedge it from between the other luggage they’d brought along.

Kagome grinned, happily accepting his help as she sauntered back to the entry of the carriage, softly setting the young boy down on the bottom step where she sat on her knees before him, pulling the length of her dress out from beneath her.

“Your High-“

“Hush.” She kindly silenced a guard, having already expected someone to speak up.

“Would you like my jacket to kneel on?” He offered again.

“Absolutely not.” She declined with the hint of humor on her tongue, shaking her head.

“You should know well by now that a forest nymph doesn’t mind getting a little dirty.” Her husband said, setting the case down beside her as he softly patted the top of her head. She thanked him as he stepped back, opening it up to seek out the ointment she’d need.

As she went to push the pants up the little boy’s leg to reveal the injured flesh, she noticed the wide, curious eyes that were set on her, his lips parted in silent awe.

“What? Are you okay?” Kagome hastily inquired. He only widened his eyes further bringing her to nervously giggle. “What?”

In the smallest whisper, the boy asked, “Are you a princess?”

Kagome sighed heavily, relieved, hanging her head as she chuckled. She let the question sit for a moment as she breathed in, leveling her eyes with him once more as she smiled. “Only by marriage.”

“Which means, yes.” Inuyasha spoke as he crouched down beside her, his tone husky but the amusement evident. “She is a princess.”

The tiniest of gasps was heard from the child as he then evaluated the man next to her, his short, tousled, light hair, his attire that dressed him much like the guards but with an air of authority, his very close proximity of the one already announced as a royal that no commoner in their right mind would ever be in. Unless they were royalty, as well.

“This is my husband, Inuyasha.” Kagome introduced.

“Wow.” The kid speculated, green eyes bright, and his voice finally being heard. “I’ve never met royals before. Are you from around here? Do you have a large castle? Why aren’t you wearing crowns? Do you have a different crown for every day of the week? No, of course not, because you aren’t wearing one right now. Unless they’re just too heavy. They must be heavy. Are they heavy?”

The both of them laughed lightly, Kagome’s long, dark hair swinging to the front of her shoulders as she tried to hide her humor by ducking her head; especially since Inuyasha’s initial expression in reaction was slightly taken aback, slightly dumbfounded - most likely due to the sudden, talkative nature the boy presented.

“Well?” He prodded, earnestly waiting for an answer to each question.

“Oh, uh -“ The prince scrunched his nose, deliberating on where to begin, hoping he remembered it all. “We’re from a kingdom quite a ways away. We only wear our crowns on special occasions. We’ve only got one each and they’re honestly pretty light, but that’s just the way ours are designed. My brother’s is ridiculously heavy; it’s almost stupid. And, uh -“

“Oh, the castle.” Kagome reminded.

“Ah, yes. Um, yeah, I guess it’s pretty big.” He shrugged modestly. “I’ve seen smaller - I’ve seen larger.”

“But, then what are you doing here?” The young boy inquired, his expression twisted in confusion.

“We’re actually just passing through.” Kagome answered, finally getting to work and pushing his pants out of her way.

“Yes, and it was intended to be done discreetly. So, if you don’t mind, can this meeting be our little secret?” Inuyasha asked, cocking a brow.

“I’ve been told I’m horrible at keeping secrets.” He admitted without remorse. Kagome laughed as Inuyasha pinched his lips into a flat line.

“Wonderful. Something we should have covered first, I suppose.” He sarcastically stated, raising to a stand as he swiped his hands through his hair, heading to wait with the knights.

“Well, since you’re so chatty now, would you mind telling me your name?” Kagome asked, soaking a cotton pad in a cleansing salve. “I think it’s only fair since you know so much about us.”

“It’s Shippo, Your Highness.”

“Please, just call me Kagome.”

“I wont get into trouble?” He questioned softly.

“Believe me, there are very few people who I insist respectfully address me as royalty, and they’re usually complete jerks who deserve to be taken down a peg or two.” She smirked. “Otherwise, I just prefer my name. Especially if we’re friends. This may sting a little, Shippo. Are you ready?”

The little boy nodded, apprehension returning to crease at his brow, but he took it bravely, hardly flinching as Kagome carefully cleaned his wound and the stained blood around it, gently blowing to calm whatever burn lingered. She applied ointment next, using a generous amount to coat the wound nicely before she wrapped it securely in bandages.

“There you are.” Kagome smiled sweetly, allowing him to lift his ankle to assess the wrappings. “I would recommend you stay off of it for a couple of days. And, keep it clean. You don’t want an infection.”

“Don’t worry, Kagome!” He beamed appreciatively as he lowered his pant leg. “The lady of our house takes real good care of us when we get hurt!”

“Speaking of which, where do you live? What were you doing in the forest?”

“Exploring. I didn’t see the trap. I - um - went further than I’m allowed to go,” Shippo admitted sheepishly. “But I live in the town a little ways behind those woods.”

“Someone must be awfully worried about you.” Kagome sighed, ruffling his copper hair. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

She heard a long, steady inhale from behind, and knew full and well exactly who it came from. In addition, she knew exactly what that breath meant. She knew the exact expression Inuyasha was wearing. She knew the exact, tense body language he was presenting and attempting to ease with sympathy. And, she knew exactly what he was about to say as she rose to stand, turning to meet his gaze.

“Kagome, you have to stay here. Miroku and I will take him home.” He said, ember eyes vibrant with the sun peeking through the roaming clouds.

“No.” She tried.

“Yes.” He countered steadily.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No.” Kagome whined that time, her shoulders slumping as she gave into her inadvertent pout. Inuyasha chuckled, moving forward to lovingly cup her cheeks in his hands.

“You know better. If we haven’t checked out a place beforehand, you can’t go. Your safety is the most important thing to me, my love.”

“You only call me that when you’re trying to avoid being in trouble.” Kagome moped, leaning into his hold.

“Is it working?” Inuyasha grinned.

“No.”

“How about this: If we deem it safe enough, I’ll come back to get you and we’ll find something to eat there.”

Kagome perked up, brown eyes alight at the thought of food, nodding in agreement as her prince chuckled again.

“Thought so.” Inuyasha remarked, kissing her forehead. With a shrug, he went to remove his coat, which was what usually tipped off the masses of him having a high status, handing it over to Kagome. From the side, Miroku began to do the same, the both of them removing their swords as well - leaving them with just the knives concealed within their boots. Now, they looked almost ordinary, donned in black Bastian shirts tucked into their white pants, and black boots. 

“Wait, was eating soon not already the plan?” Kagome quirked as he gave her belly a little rub before stepping over to pick up Shippo.

“Ready to go?”

“Was - was that not the plan?” She tried again as amusement caused his grin to grow wide - though he clearly attempted to hide it.

“I’ll be back, princess.” He said, avoiding her audacious glare. “Let’s go, Miroku.”

“Coming.” The aide snickered, jogging over, giving Kagome’s belly a playful rub, then hastily catching up to the prince as her expression was redirected toward him.

“Goodbye, Kagome! Thank you for bandaging me up!” Shippo called, waving from his new seat atop Inuyasha’s shoulders.

She gave a meager wave to the boy, breathing out defeatedly as Koga and Sango approached at her sides.

“There’s a quarter demon child growing inside of me, and he made eating seem conditional.” Kagome said.

“I’m going to be surprised if he survives this.” Koga mentioned forwardly.

“Me too.” She agreed as Sango laughed.

—

“So, did I hear correctly? Your name is Shippo?” Inuyasha asked, securely holding the boy by his thighs so as to not agitate his injury. The child’s small hands were lightly placed on the sides of the prince’s head, just below his ears.

“You did.” He confirmed brightly.

“Well, Shippo, am I going in the right direction? You’ll have to lead us.” The prince said, though it wasn’t all that true. Once they'd passed a certain point of shrubbery in the forest, he’d begun to smell the life of a town nearby. He just wanted to give the boy the authority, knowing it usually boosted a child’s confidence, and he figured there was no harm in which since Shippo had had a bit of a rough time earlier.

“I think so.” Shippo said, almost unsurely. He hadn’t been this far out alone before, but he could detect the scent of dinners being made in homes a little further off, so he relied on that sense. “Maybe a little to the left passed that tree.”

Inuyasha chuckled softly, doing as he said.

“Why did you guys take off your jackets and swords? If you told the princess you’re worried about unexpected danger, isn’t heading off without your swords kind of, I don’t know, the opposite of what you should do?”

Miroku laughed, “If a knight only relied on his weapon, he’d be useless.”

“Aside from that,” Inuyasha spoke. “I mentioned we’d wanted to stay under the radar. The more casual we look, the better.”

“No one around here has a carriage. Not like yours, at least. If you thought your clothes were the only dead giveaway, think again.” Shippo slighted.

“No one around here will see the carriage.” Inuyasha retorted.

“Oh, good point.”

“Think you can hold onto this secret of ours? At least until we leave?”

“How long will that be?” Shippo inquired innocently.

“How long can you go?” Inuyasha laughed.

“Five minutes?” He asked more than stated.

“So much for bringing Kagome through for food.” Miroku chuckled, causing Inuyasha to grimace nervously at his fate.

“Oh! When I left to explore, Kikyo was making banana bread! It should be done by now; I’m sure she’d be more than happy to send you off with some! The princess will love it!”

Inuyasha and Miroku both perked, slowly turning to look at each other with peculiar, suspicious expressions. Slowly, the two began shaking their heads to dismiss the incredulous idea, silently mouthing, “No” back and forth to each other from the total disbelief.

“Is - uh - is Kikyo your mother?” Miroku asked.

“No, I don’t have a mother.” Shippo shook his head. “Kikyo’s the lady of the house. She brings in those who have been orphaned and takes good care of us! There’s five children living there right now. I’m the only boy, so that obviously makes me the man of the house.”

“And, has Kikyo always been part of your town?” Inuyasha questioned.

“I don’t know, I’m only six.” The boy shrugged, his attention diverting as he slightly bounced atop the prince’s shoulders. “Oh, I know where we are! Take a left at that broken tree and we’ll be able to see everything!”

Sure enough, just down the slope of the hill they stood on came the sight of a small, homely town. The streets were paved with cobblestone, houses in stable structure, closely knit together with little fenced yards, expanding out into the distant countryside where farmers grew their crops. It seemed to be a thriving community; wholesome and beautiful.

Carefully, they made their way down, and Inuyasha gave a gentle reminder to Shippo to keep their secret to the best of his abilities. The boy gave an enthusiastic nod, gesturing that he’d zipped his mouth shut, which all but disappeared the moment a woman waved to the young child and he shouted a boisterous greeting back at her.

“Who are your friends? I’ve never seen you lot around here.” She mentioned with a grin. Inuyasha sucked in an anticipating breath, holding it as he tensed, and he could tell Shippo easily almost slipped his tongue.

“Oh, this is -“ He froze, correcting himself. “Actually, I don’t know who they are. They just helped me get back here. I had a bit of an accident.”

“I’m Miroku.” Inuyasha’s aide friendly offered with a slight bow of his head, keeping the suspicion from the woman to a minimum. He pointed to Inuyasha with his thumb, “This is my friend, Koga. We were passing through when we found the little guy and thought it best to see him home.”

Inuyasha almost deadpanned, catching himself before it was made obvious. For the past six years, whenever they played incognito, which really wasn’t all that often, that was the name he was forced to go by. He honestly shouldn’t be surprised anymore, but he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d ever live that moment in his life down. Miroku gave him a smug grin, waving goodbye to the lady as she commented on their kindness and let them be on their way.

“Take a right at that street and it’ll be the third house on the left. With the vegetable garden out front.” Shippo guided as they carried on.

The smell of food was alight in the district, fires burning in stoves, vegetables being diced. They passed a little bar on their way and Inuyasha crinkled his nose at the harsh aroma of hard liquor fuming through the cracks of the door, the sound of clinking glasses and intoxicated laughter meeting his sensitive ears. The town seemed, for the most part, safe from what he could tell; lively, the streets still inhabiting plenty of people as they walked with groceries or finished up their days. A group of teen girls stared, whispering to each other in a small huddle, and as the two men turned their heads, noticing them, the girls shyly waved, giggling madly and ducking their heads to hide their blushes.

“Ah, I’ve still got it.” Miroku remarked proudly, waving back at them.

“Got what?” Shippo asked, naive.

“Charm, good looks -“

“A big ego.” Inuyasha interjected, chuckling.

“Yikes.” Miroku responded semi-dramatically, laughing.

The fence outside Shippo’s house was modest and homemade, each wooden post sized differently, uneven, and some standing just slightly crooked, all of which was secured together with some sturdy rope to divide their property from their neighbors’. Inuyasha couldn’t help but smile at the humble allure of it all. From the outside, the house seemed quaint and spacious. He couldn’t give fair judgement just yet, but he sensed, overall, orphans had a good home, a good opportunity here.

“Just go on in; it’s open.” Shippo welcomed, resting his chin atop Inuyasha’s head.

Respectfully, Inuyasha gave a couple sturdy knocks before twisting the doorknob to walk through. The scent of baking bread from outside was wonderful, but his nose was delighted at how powerful the aroma became just in the entryway. Along with that, there was food cooking. Plenty of it. There was slight chatter from distant rooms, rustic decor, and beneath it all lingered a very, very faint yet familiar scent.

Small feet pattered along the floor in their direction, a young girl looking to be about ten years old appearing in the open doorway at the far, left corner of the entry room, a well-used apron tied around her waist to protect her overdress. A small smile on her lips welcomed them, her eyes traveling over them as she quietly inspected the two strangers before her expression faltered at the sight of Shippo on Inuyasha’s shoulders.

“Shippo, there you are. Where have you been? You know you’re not supposed to be gone for so long, no less on your own. Kikyo was about to head out searching for you.” She spoke, half lecturing - half concerned.

“I didn’t mean to.” Shippo defended. “I - uh - had a bit of an accident. But, some new friends helped me and brought me back.”

Inuyasha raised the small boy over his head, carefully holding him in his arms as he kneeled down before the girl. “He actually got snagged in a hunting trap. Poor guy didn’t see the damned thing, and his leg got caught. We got him fixed up, but he needs to stay off of it for a little while.”

Her eyes widened in shock, a worried expression taking over as she looked at the small boy. “Are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“A little, but I’m perfectly fine. I hardly cried.” Shippo boasted with a prideful shrug, bringing Inuyasha and Miroku to glance at each other with muffled amusement.

“Yeah, sure, I believe that.” The girl rolled her eyes. “Lucky these men were around to help. Thank you so much,” She said, turning her attention to Inuyasha. “He wasn’t too much trouble, was he?”

“I get hurt and I’m the one that’s trouble.” Shippo mumbled beneath his breath.

“Not at all.” Inuyasha chuckled. “We were happy to help.”

“Accidents happen all the time. It’s good that we were around when it occurred.” Miroku added. “Who knows how long he would have been stuck there until someone found him.”

“We can’t thank you enough.” She smiled, moving to take Shippo from Inuyasha’s gentle hold. “Can I get you something in return? A glass of water for your journey back from where you came from? Food? I’m afraid dinner isn’t done yet, but we have baked goods. I made cookies from scratch!”

“Don’t eat those.” Shippo murmured, shaking his head at the prince.

“Don’t listen to him.”

“No, don’t worry about it. You owe us nothing.” He grinned crookedly, still kneeling before her. There was a tingle in his stomach, his senses, his mind still focusing on that tiny, recognizable scent. There was no way he could leave here until he investigated it, and the thought had that nervous jitter unraveling his abdomen all at once. “If - if it’s not too much to ask, may I meet this Kikyo? Just to let her know, myself, what happened.”

“Of course.” The girl smiled happily, leading them off. “She’s in the kitchen. This way.”

Inuyasha regarded his aide with an anxious twitch at the corner of his lips, knowing Miroku would read his body language perfectly clear. The knight, in turn, responded with a slight shrug of his brow communicating his anticipation, and then followed behind the prince.

“Shippo’s back!” The little girl announced as they entered the decently-sized kitchen, carrying him around the counter to personally present the child to Kikyo. 

Her back was to the men, her long, straight, black hair secured in a low ponytail, standing at the far counter as she immediately stopped chopping potatoes to acknowledge the children beside her. As she turned, concerned expression deep, crouching down to inspect the little boy’s condition, Inuyasha took in her profile, smiling warmly and sighing out in relief. After all these years, it was so good to finally know she was okay. Healthy. Alive.

“What in the world happened?” Kikyo asked exasperatedly.

“Heh,” Shippo had never looked more nervous. “Don’t be mad, okay?”

Kikyo snickered in return, “Don’t give me a reason to be mad, okay?” She countered, grinning daringly while cocking her head to the side as she waited for an explanation. Same, old attitude.

“Well - um - long story short, I was out exploring and got my leg stuck in a hunting trap. I was rescued, bandaged, and escorted home by - um - them.” Shippo sheepishly pointed to Inuyasha and Miroku.

Kikyo’s gaze followed the boy’s direction, instantly landing on the men in the kitchen entryway. Silver hair and dog ears, a dark, Bastian shirt revealing a portion of chest where a gold chain just barely peeked through, amber eyes that regarded her kindly, a casual manner to his posture as he leaned against the wall frame, and a familiar guard who overlooked the scene next to him. Her chest grew heavy, at first sending her nerves alight but then the weight turning into something wonderful and nostalgic, as it dawned on her who the boy’s rescuers were. Her lips slowly parted but her breath was held captive, and she couldn’t stop herself from rising to a stand, facing the prince fully, finally sighing out as she smiled at him.

“Well, well. Look who it is.” Kikyo all but whispered.

“It’s been a while.” Inuyasha greeted, giving a little cock of his head.

“It certainly has.”

“Do you know each other?” The little girl holding Shippo asked, expression muddled with perplexity.

With an unsettled and breathy chuckle, Kikyo looked down at her from the side. “We’ve met once before.”

“Wait,” Shippo started, almost assertively, the hint of surprise on his tongue. “Kikyo, you know him?”

“I do.” She replied with amusement.

“You know who he is!?”

She bent down, facing him, hands braced on her knees as she smiled. “Do you know who he is?”

“Do you!?” The boy’s green eyes almost popped out of his head, his voice cracking from shock.

“I’ll tell you what,” Kikyo laughed, almost hanging her head in defeat. “If you two go upstairs and remain there until I call you down for dinner, before bed I’ll tell you a story of a girl he and I used to know. It’ll be so thrilling you’ll hardly be able to tell if it’s real or not.”

“But, who is he?” The girl asked her.

“What fun is it if I spoil anything now?” Kikyo countered. The two children gasped, jaws dropping as the girl scampered to take them from the kitchen in excitement. “And, keep the others from coming down too, please! No interruptions or no story!” 

They listened as little feet stomped up the stairs, disappearing around the bend and bringing everything to a quiet. Miroku gave a kind nod to Kikyo, a pleasant curve to his lips as he tapped Inuyasha’s arm with the back of his hand. “I’m going to check out the surrounding area. Make sure we’re clear. I’ll be outside.”

The prince nodded, dismissing him as he and Kikyo were left alone. Steadily, she removed her apron, wiping her hands clean with it before bunching it up and leaving it on the nearby counter. Her overdress, a deep, plum color that contrasted nicely against her pale skin, was mostly clean aside from a couple flour stains on the bodice.

“Did you - are you traveling…” Kikyo inhaled anxiously, a barely noticeable tremble in her breath. “Is it just the two of you?”

“No one I’m with will disturb your peace, I promise. I would never stick around to compromise that.” The prince assured, standing up straight. “It’s good to see you, Kikyo.”

Her smile won over as she let down her guard, walking over to Inuyasha and pulling him into a tight hug, his arms wrapping tight around her waist. “I can’t believe it! I never thought I’d see you again!”

“Me neither! I’m just glad to know you’ve made a life for yourself! Is it everything you wanted?”

“Yes.” She breathed, and he could catch the hint of satisfaction on her tongue. Kikyo released him, stepping back and meeting his eyes. “I never had much of a plan. My only goal was to get away, start fresh, be common. I’ll admit, it was tricky in the beginning and for quite some time after that. But, I figured it out. I found a purpose. I make ends meet just like every other townsperson, and I care for little ones who deserve a fighting chance in this world. So, yes. It is. It’s hard, but it’s worth it.”

“You’ve been safe?”

“Turns out, I can fend for myself quite nicely. And, I still have the knife your aide gave me all those years ago.”

“I hope you’ve never had to use it.”

“Actually no, but I did punch a guy straight in the nose one time. I felt like you’d have been proud of me if you’d seen the bloody mess.” She stated with a humble shrug.

Inuyasha laughed, nodding in agreement. “I’m honestly surprised you aren’t going by an alias. When Shippo mentioned your name, Miroku and I almost didn’t believe it could have been you.”

“I told you long ago, prince. I would run until my face was unrecognizable and my name meant nothing. Here, Kikyo is my only identity.”

His smile was warm. Grateful even. Her brown eyes shined of a joy he’d never seen before; never had an opportunity to see before. He was genuinely happy for her.

“And, what of my horse?” He inquired playfully.

“Did you mean my horse?” Kikyo giggled. “She’s out back in her stable. You may see her when we’re done talking. You must catch me up! What are you doing all the way out here in the first place?”

“Business. Had to show face at a coronation since my brother has been preoccupied. We were actually on our way home.”

“Preoccupied? No, never mind. That’s none of my business. My father,” She hesitated. “Do you know what’s become of him? Is he okay?”

The prince sucked in a tedious breath, hardly able to hide the way he pinched his lips into a straight line, golden eyes falling downward.

“Oh,” She said with bated breath. “He’s who’s preoccupying King Sesshomaru.”

“We don’t have to talk about that.”

“No, it’s fine.” Kikyo insisted. “It’s not like I don’t know who my father is. Is he - has he gotten worse?”

“We’ve almost gone to war already.” Inuyasha admitted, his voice dropping to a gruff level, almost wanting to protect her from this news. Truth was, King Onigumo needed to be removed from the thrown, and unless he did an abrupt about face and learned benevolence, with the way things were headed, it may potentially happen. By force. It was something Sesshomaru and Kagura were working tirelessly to avoid, and Onigumo gave way here and there - he wasn’t completely obstinate. The last threat for violence was over a year ago, and things have calmed down considerably since. Nonetheless, Sesshomaru’s patience was running thin.

“Figures.” She eventually said, shaking her head in reply. Kikyo was mindful to subtly change the subject, understanding that he was right and they shouldn’t talk about this sort of thing. She sighed out, “And you, prince? Are you happy?”

“You have no idea.” He smirked.

Her eyes drifted over him, taking in his same, tousled hair, his healthy glow, his broad physique, the way he somehow seemed more muscular than before, and stopped at the silver ring on his left hand. Stunted, Kikyo’s gaze shot back up to his for a moment before she stepped forward and grasped his hand, carefully analyzing the band on his ring finger.

Inuyasha’s smile grew wide, chuckling when she stared at him with an expectant look.

“Is it…”

“Would you like to meet her?”

—

Inuyasha came out of the shrubbery with Miroku on his heel, the pleasant sound of content and eating horses meeting his ears. He glanced around, his strong instincts always wanting to lay eyes on his wife before allowing him to move forward, and when he didn’t immediately spot her, a frown marred his lips. Two knights stood to the side, always ready for whatever, and Koga rested carelessly on top of the carriage, hardly regarding the prince’s return. Without even opening his eyes, he pointed with his thumb in the direction on the opposite side of the carriage. Miroku stayed behind, allowing the prince to venture forward in search of his person.

He stepped off the road and into more woodland, following the sweet scent he recognized as home until he saw her sitting in a small clearing, her back resting along a tree trunk. Sango, always near her, turned to see him, acknowledging him silently before dismissing herself and leaving them in privacy. Just as he preferred.

“There you are.” He hummed, approaching before her, and as she opened her eyes to see him, the most beautiful smile appeared on her face. Inuyasha sighed out deeply as he dropped down, sitting beside her, and she leaned into his arm, resting her cheek on his shoulder. “How are you feeling?”

“You ask that so often.” Kagome giggled, nestling closer.

“To be fair, it changes frequently.” He joked, flinching slightly as she playfully swatted his chest.

“I’m fine, butt head.”

“No nausea?”

“Not lately.”

“Tired?”

“Always.”

“Hungry?”

“Always.”

“Annoyed?”

“Getting there.”

Inuyasha laughed, kissing the top of her head as she gently caressed her fingers over the material of the pants on his thigh.

“You were gone for a while.” Kagome spoke softly. “Was it far?”

“Not really,” Inuyasha responded just as gently, enjoying the attention he was receiving. “I had stopped to talk to someone. I didn’t mean to make you wait.”

“Oh, I don’t mind.” Somehow, her voice became even quieter, hushed as ever but still conveying her honesty. “If it’s for you, I’d wait forever.”

Inuyasha’s core warmed wonderfully, bringing him to kiss her head again in adoration. He wanted to bask in her sentiment, fully comforted by her fingers roaming over his thigh and her body heat soaking through his shirt. He’d never have his fill of this woman. 

“There’s a couple things I wanted to run over with you, if that’s alright.”

“Oh?” Kagome perked, sitting up to look at him, her hand traveling up to his forearm to graze.

“Yes. Shippo mentioned a lady of the house to you, do you recall?”

“Mhm.” She hummed with a single nod.

“Well, turns out he’s an orphan. The lady of the house is the caretaker of a small orphanage of sorts. She’s who I was talking to.” Inuyasha explained, observing as Kagome’s expression slightly faltered.

She was aware Rin came from a horrible orphanage. In the recent years, she’s been a personal witness to her health struggles from the environment she was saved from, and has seen firsthand how the fear and stress of it all weighs on her parents, on her uncle. How during a very bad episode, Kagome found Inuyasha in a room hidden away in a library, his face buried in his hands. 

The prince’s brows furrowed minutely, his body slowly and steadily turning more to face his wife. “You’re upset.”

“Is it a good place?” She quietly asked, expression twisting in concern.

He soothed her, a small sigh leaving his mouth, gently stroking her cheek with the backs of his fingers. “Yes. It is, yes. It’s stable, it’s not crowded at all, and everyone’s well-nourished. I swear. That’s not what I intended to make you think about. You’re too compassionate for your own good, did you know that?”

“Oh, like you didn’t immediately worry about the same thing when you found out he was an orphan?” Kagome challenged, her mood lightening a bit after receiving his reassurance.

“No, you’re right. It’s impossible not to, I guess, from our perspective.” Inuyasha said. “He really is in good care. Turns out, the lady is an old friend. And, if you’re up for a little walk, I’d like for you to meet her.”

A smile began to grow on her face as her brows expressed her piquing interest. “Who?”

“Kikyo.” 

Inuyasha watched Kagome’s bemusement deepen, her face twisting dramatically as she processed the two syllables he’d spoken.

“Yes, you heard me right.” He confirmed.

“Kikyo?” She echoed.

“Yes.”

“The Kikyo?”

“The only one I, personally, know.”

“The runaway princess?”

“That’s the one.”

“The Kikyo who called you a nit-witted mongrel?”

“Hah, that was a good one.” He laughed, forgetting he’d told her nearly every detail of how they’d fought to dismember the marriage arrangement. “How do you remember that?”

“I remember everything.” She stated simply. “But -“

“Yes!”

“Wow.”

“I know.”

“Alright, well we should get going.” Kagome said with a nonchalant shrug, shifting slightly to her side to push herself up to a standing with her hand.

Inuyasha jumped up, grabbing her arms to help. “Wait, so you’re okay with this? You’re alright with a little walk?”

“First of all, you’re too protective for your own good, did you know that?” She teased. “Second, I’m not that far along. I can still see my toes and everything. I’m perfectly fine with walking.”

Inuyasha pressed his mouth shut to stifle his laughter. “And, what about meeting her?”

“Oh, well you never asked me about that before. You told me you wanted me to meet her, and knowing you, she’s probably already expecting me. But, now that you’re asking, I don’t mind.” Kagome shrugged again, a smug grin on her face that only served to egg Inuyasha on. 

“Oh, you don’t mind?” He echoed casually, stepping inward as his hands glided over her waist.

“I don’t mind.” She repeated.

“Not one bit?”

“Well,” Kagome clicked her tongue, pursing her lips as she pretended to put more thought into it, her palms smoothing over Inuyasha’s chest to wrap around his shoulders. “I can honestly say it’s always been high on my list to meet your ex-fiancee. Now that I have the opportunity, how could I possibly pass it up?”

“Why you cheeky, little - are you jealous?”

“Me?”

“Mhm.”

“Jealous?”

Inuyasha chuckled, leaning down to brush her jawline with a sweet kiss, knowing all too well that she was joking with him, and as he felt her smile push at her cheeks, he traveled down to nip at her neck.

“Not if you keep doing that.” She breathed.

“If I keep doing this,” Inuyasha spoke huskily against her skin, pausing his sentence to pepper more kisses. “We’ll never get there.”

Kagome giggled, waiting patiently for Inuyasha’s lips to make their way to her own, his kiss soft, grounding, heart-sputtering.

“But really, Kagome.”

She rubbed their noses together, giving him one last, delicate kiss. “Lead the way.”

As they reached the bottom of the hill, Kagome was a laughing mess, her flats practically having held no traction as she slid every two steps the entire way down, causing Inuyasha to be a nervous train wreck attempting to keep her up. She slipped to her butt, his grip on her hands the only thing preventing her from crashing down hard, and he crouched down in front of her, heaving a heated and defeated huff. The prince grabbed her cheeks between his palms, bringing her to giggle harder as his frustrated expression worsened.

“You’re going to be the death of me, woman!”

“This isn’t my fault at all!” Kagome feebly argued.

“I don’t see why you didn’t just carry her down.” Koga mentioned, both Miroku and Sango staring humorously at his sides.

“She won’t let me carry her anymore!” Inuyasha defended, standing and holding his hand out for her, lifting her to her feet.

“It’s not comfortable with a belly.” Kagome explained, pointing to her swell. “And, I hate being carried like some dainty thing.”

“You’re being carried back up.” Inuyasha declared, making her snort with another laugh.

“Okay, yeah, that’s fair.”

“Come on, the sun is setting.” Miroku urged kindly. They’d left the two other knights to watch over their belongings, but had to bring Koga in case anything out of the ordinary occurred. The detailed reminder was unnecessary, especially since he knew Kagome wasn’t fond of being doted on, but just like the prince, as princess, she was to be protected well. As princess with child, she was almost never to be left alone. Worst case scenario, some bandits stumbled upon their carriage out on the road, understood it meant royals were about, and hid in the trees until they returned. If they were wandering back through the woods in the dark, their defense was lower than normal. Granted, Koga and Inuyasha would sense anyone around, but it still made things a degree more difficult. Realistically, the chances of any of that happening were slim, but not altogether impossible. Hence the reason they were well-guarded, and all scenarios were to be considered. Not to mention, the prince was naturally protective of her, the instinct kicking into high gear the moment he found out she was pregnant, and his orders were very clear from day one. Kagome is never to be put in a compromising position.

Inuyasha entwined his fingers with his princess’s, keeping her close to his frame as he led her and the others through the town, the warm hues of the sky complimenting the colors of the homes nicely. There were still people out; not as many as before, but the life had yet to fully filter indoors. Unsurprisingly, heads were turning. It was one thing when two strangers were walking through, but now there were five - one of which who didn’t really have the option to strip off a layer of clothing to appear more casual. Being of common blood, though, Kagome had a tendency to not even tense in situations like these, hardly paying it any mind.

He gave three curt knocks to the door, waiting respectfully as he heard two little feet running toward them from inside. The child seemed small, the doorknob jiggling roughly back and forth a few times before actually succeeding in opening to reveal that his assumption was right on the money. She was shorter than where the knob sat, and it was clear to see she’d struggled to twist it open with how tiny her hands were. Her eyes, though, were alight with wonder, the hollow of her throat emphasized with the steady gasp she sucked in.

The girl backed out of their way to let them enter, her sights trained on them as her cheeks beamed with color. As the group walked through, Sango shutting the door behind them, they all spotted a line of four other children peaking through the wooden railing of the staircase bannister. Their expressions matched the little girl’s, and both Kagome and Inuyasha laughed lightly.

“I suppose our five minutes were up long ago, huh?” Inuyasha asked, spotting Shippo in the middle of them.

“I did my best, your highness. Really, I did.” He said, unconvincingly. 

“How’s your leg feeling?” Kagome inquired, notching her head to see him through the crack in the railing.

“Never better!”

“I believe I told you all to wash up. Not gawk and stare.” A woman playfully chided, cocking a brow as she watched them all scurry upstairs to do as she said, giggling madly all the way. The oldest of the bunch had picked Shippo up so he wouldn’t get hurt, scampering away behind the rest.

Her gaze transferred to the group in the entry, a welcoming smile resting on her face. “Are you all hungry? There’s plenty of food.” She offered, leading the way into the kitchen.

At first, Kagome could admit she was highly intimidated by the woman before her. By Kikyo. She was breathtakingly beautiful, her fair skin tone unblemished, her hair long and silky and dark as night, her posture still poised and fit to hold a crown steady atop her head. She, for one, was born into royalty. She knew the ins and outs of being a proper princess, of how to balance what was expected of her, and surely how to be graceful. The entire way, she wondered if Kikyo would secretly judge her on her etiquette if she stammered or acted informally in the least, having been raised to know better as opposed to the merciless educating Kagome was married into. Now, she could see Kikyo, the runaway princess, was no one to worry about. And, the offer of sustenance helped ease her mind drastically - no less since the heavenly smell of the home was almost making the poor princess drool.

“Oh, I like her already.” Kagome whispered to Inuyasha, rubbing her belly soothingly as it rumbled. He chuckled, gripping her hand tighter as he turned to plant a quick kiss on her temple before guiding her forward. 

Miroku and Koga stayed by the door - precautionary purposes, of course - but Sango followed behind the royals, leaving space but keeping watch. Just as before, Kikyo removed the apron she’d put back on, wiping her hands clean on it before bunching it up and dropping it on the counter, smoothing out any wrinkles in her dress.

“You must be Kagome.” She deduced, her tone level and kind. “I’m Kikyo.”

“The ex-fiancee.” Inuyasha teased.

“Ew.” Kikyo reacted automatically with a cringe. Inuyasha wheezed a laugh, flinching as Kagome lightly jabbed him in the side.

“Don’t mind him.” Kagome dismissed. “I’m sure you remember how funny he thinks he is. It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

She chuckled, bowing her head in amusement as she stepped forward to shake the princess’s hand.

“I hope you never run into royalty outside of this, Kikyo, because your manners are awful.” Inuyasha mentioned, eyes alight with humor. Both of the women looked at him, confused until it clicked for Kikyo, her expression shifting to slight astonishment. “I believe you owe us a curtsey.”

“Not on your life.” She responded.

“Please don’t.” Kagome shook her head profusely.

“At least remember if you ever meet one who cares.” Inuyasha contended.

“A woman bows to no man.” She said with a challenging smirk before gesturing to the food-filled counters. “Now eat something and shut it.”

“We can’t stay long, but I would actually like to say hello to my horse first, if you don’t mind.” Inuyasha retorted, bringing the back of Kagome’s hand to his mouth to kiss before letting go and crossing to the back door of the house at the far end of the kitchen.

“My horse!” Kikyo reminded him as he ran out.

“Everything smells amazing.” Kagome commented, looking around at the incredible amount of pastries and goodies around.

“Thank you. We sell baked goods for an income, but we always make more than necessary. Please, help yourself.”

“Oh, no.” She shook her head again. “I couldn’t.”

“You can and you will.” Kikyo insisted. “Go for the chocolate chip first. You’ll love them.”

“Well, who am I to argue?” Kagome gave in with a meek shrug, happily bouncing over to the cookies to grab the large chocolate chip on top.

“Why aren’t your guards coming in? It’s fairly safe here; there’s no need to be formal.”

Kagome let out a groan, her head dropping back as Sango giggled in the doorframe, used to her dramatic gripes about the situation. “Because my dear husband put them on high alert for the next six months, so now wherever we go, they’re like this.”

“Six months?” Kikyo questioned, brows furrowing.

“Well,” Sango spoke. “Six months left, at least. And, really, it’ll only get worse after that.”

“Don’t remind me.” She rolled her eyes, taking a bite of the delicious treat in her hand. 

Before Kikyo could ask anything further, the five children flocked in, all of them quiet for the most part but body language screaming of how excited they actually were. Kikyo had made sure to speak to the kids beforehand, forbidding a bombardment of questions she knew they would no doubt ask, threatening to take story time away - and each of them refused to risk that, wanting to hear the tale of how the lady of the house knew a prince.

“All clean?” She asked, her smile quite motherly.

“Yes!” They each answered, four out of five holding up their hands for her to see while the eldest held onto Shippo.

“Alright, you know the drill.” The eldest looked at the smallest girl behind her, the one who’d opened the door for them, gesturing out the other end of the kitchen where Kagome assumed the dining room was, taking she and Shippo to the table. The others got out the bowls, and plates, the utensils most likely already set out, waiting in an uniformed line for Kikyo to serve them hearty stew from the pot on the stove with a side of bread.

Inuyasha came back in not too long later, a pleased grin on his mouth, and Kagome could easily read he was ecstatic to have seen his old mare again. Ember eyes immediately landed on her, bringing a comforting heat to wash through her body, and he crossed the kitchen as the last child took food out to the dining room. His large palm instinctively glided over her belly, and he pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead, welcoming himself back to her side.

Kikyo no longer needed to ask a thing. The dress concealed her baby bump well, and she’d admit, if nothing had been said to tip her curiosity, and if the rubbing palm didn’t smooth out the creases in Kagome’s dress to reveal the adorable swell, she would have never noticed she was pregnant. It was peaceful, seeing the prince so happy when all she had the opportunity to know from him was sarcasm and angst. It was wonderful to know her friend had gotten the life he’d so desperately wanted. Deserved. Kikyo breathed complacently, filling extra bowls with food to hand to her guests.

—

The silver hair she stroked was soft, thick, the tips of her fingers massaging her husband’s scalp as he rested his head on her chest. They were back in their carriage, strolling through the darkness to make up for a little lost time before finding a place to sleep for the night. Instead of the couple sitting on opposite sides, Inuyasha had wanted to hold her, waiting until they’d gotten moving again before he curled his finger and urged her toward him. Happily, Kagome obliged. Kagome would always oblige. She’d sat beside him, but her legs went over his lap, her back resting against the carriage wall as his arms wrapped around her waist, nestling his head just below her chin. Whenever he did that, he always released the most satisfied sighs, and his body was always wonderfully hot, the heat gracing her flesh by soaking through both of their clothing.

“Sometimes, like today,” He spoke softly, his voice low and husky, doing something to her that she couldn’t put words to. “I’m reminded of how different life could have turned out.”

“You don’t have to think about that, though.” Kagome soothed, kissing his head as her fingers gently stroked one of his ears from base to tip.

“No. It’s important that I do.”

“Why?”

“Because, Kagome,” She could have sworn she felt his face grow hotter against the bare skin of her chest, but the proof couldn’t be seen with how they cuddled. “I almost didn’t have you.”

“But, you do.” She whispered in a simple manner.

“And, I’m grateful.”

“Oh, are you?” Kagome half teased.

“You just like hearing it.” He chuckled lightly.

“So,” She breathed, nuzzling her nose into his hair. “You’re happy?”

Inuyasha sucked in a tedious inhale, one of his hands bracing him to sit up slightly as the other traveled up to caress her cheek. His amber eyes met her gorgeous brown, the light from the moon and stars filtering through a crack in the curtains and bringing an enchanting glow to her features. He felt his own expression soften as he broke, completely enraptured, leaning in to lightly press his lips to hers. Kagome melted into his kiss, and he could feel her own conviction, causing his lungs to tremble as he curved his fingers around the nape of her neck, solidifying their position for just a moment longer. As he slowly broke away, he relished in the heat of her sigh, rubbing his forehead to her own as he gave his answer in a gentle nod. Without another word, he carefully curled back into her, his arms once more around her waist and head resting safely along her chest, listening contentedly to the rhythm of her heartbeat.

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

Smoke & Trouble I

—

The sound of brass instruments and the disjointed drumming of a jazz beat filled the paved street as the automobile pulled to a stop on the opposite corner to the once rundown building. The windows were frosted and opaque, with only the fuzzy shadows of silhouettes moving behind them being visible through them alongside the yellow glow of the lighting inside. The facade had finished its repaint the previous week, dark charcoal tones offset by the golden lettering of the establishment’s name above the door. The Fort had been reborn like a pheonix from the ashes two years earlier.

The blond man opened the door to his drivers seat, slipping from the vehicle quietly as he reached into the backseat to withdraw the dark cane with only the slightest orante detailing visible under his palm and the silver point digging into the gaps between the stone pavement. He drew his cap lower over his face as he made his way towards the building, cane clicking on the stones as he moved aong the busy street.

The city had changed significantly within the last two years - factories growing larger and larger, the slums spreading further and further, and Small Heath building up from the slums to the epicentre of power for the underbelly of the city. The Faceless Shadows had grown along with it, their numbers expanding and their reach with the assistance of their alliances to the Catholics in the north and the successful intergration of legitimate gambling licences and investments through the Visyak Family Ltd with the Shadows other lines of work building them into the untouchable controllers of Birmingham and those smaller towns and cities nearby.

Michael lit a cigarette as he walked towards the pub, which had been the very first of the legitimate Visyak Family investments prior to its destruction. Two years had been a long time to rebuild the facility, however other elements had to be addressed first, other areas had to be rebuilt first, other hurts had to be healed first. The blond man rested his weight upon the cane as he made his way inside, the warm glow off of the golden trims drenching his hair golden too.

It had been two years since that week when everything had changed for them, and limping his way across to the private room, still private and left for Shadow business, Michael knew that nothing had diluted the power he held in this space. A limp from the gun shot to his thigh, where two inches further left would have had him bleeding out on the dusty country road, did nothing but add to the dangerous edge to the Shadow leader.

His brother’s and son were all already seated around the tables in the back room, drinks before them and a space awaiting his arrival.

“Good first night of business, boys?” “It would be if Ian’s girl hadn’t been allowed to choose the music.” “Nothing wrong with the new sound, Uncle Jeff-” “It’s a goddamn fucking racket is what it is.” “Yeah, but look out there what it gets them girls doing.”

Michael slid into his seat with a sigh as uncle and nephew began bickering for the tenth time that month since the newest addition to the family had begun suggesting ideas, expressing opinions and talking back to the older Shadow. Looking out the open door to the open areas of the pub, whereby a group of young women including the dark haired wife of the youngster were all dancing freely as would never have occurred even two years prior. Amongst the crowd, Shada was clearly visible dancing with a champagne flute in hand.

“Jackson…” Michael growled out the word with a raised brow at their sister’s antics, and the youngest of the brother’s got up wordlessly to collect the girl for a drink at the bar instead.

Jeffrey’s arguments appeared to dull at the sight of the gyrating women, skirts flapping about their thights and laughter filling the pub in such a way that had not been heard in the area since before even the war. His son’s blue eyes were fixated upon where his new wife Lenore was dancing within the crowd as well. Michael had not particularly approved the pair, but all were allowed their childish mistakes, and Michael had made his own at his boy’s age. The wedding had been quick and quiet as it had been his own twenty years ago, though the pair had been practically inseperable for the last four months. By Ian’s age, he already had a wife with the boy on her hip, and the way the two were going, the whole family expected similar news soon enough.

Letting out a stream of smoke, Michael surveyed what he could see of the pub, styled after the extravogent clubs flooding London and drawing the eye of those with either too much money or too little sense, with too many nightmares and stresses and a desire to escape from the grit and grime of the daily toil.

Destroying the old to make way for the new world, Michael knew the destruction of the original Fort under the guise of arsonist’s of their home had paved the way for the Shadows into the modern day. Flexing his weak leg under the table, he knew that week so many weeks ago had pushed the whole family forward despite the set backs of it, and this grand reopening of The Fort renamed as it was in respect as Harry’s Fortress would be the next push for them all.

—

Sunday race days were back to being one of his favourite days of the week. Usually it meant an early rise with whomever was the lady of choice the previous night - be her a new conquest or one of his old faithfuls - and a hot breakfast of tea and whiskey to fight off the accumulating hangover. Then he’d don his favourite Sunday suit, the one that allowed for the most ease of movement, and was dark enough to hide any unsightly stains that may occur throughout the day. And then onto the races, either north or to the west depending on the month, to crack down on his boys’ and spend the afternoon drinking and smoking with the leader of the Catholics in the bar on site while their coins would roll in.

He was up to that point today, and returning to their table towards the side of the dance floor where both men could survey those around them as well as keep a wall at their backs, Jeffrey sank into his chair with a smirk - glass sat carefully upon the wood table top ignoring the coaster for it completely.

“Just heard from the boys that all is looking well for the day. None of those fucking Black Eye boys trying to cause a fuss this week, and plenty of wagers to make us all happy.”

“Some of us happier than others, too. That horse of yours back on it’s winning streak today?” Gabriel smirked back, his own glass almost empty. The exasperated look from his wife as he sat his drink back down on the table top was clear that she thought he had had enough and it had barely past midday. "How much that horse won for you Shadows since you got him? You looking at adding a new one to the roster yet?”

Jeffrey frowned at that comment, not sure what to make of it before shrugging a shoulder as he looked out at the floor of dancing couples. Not the same as had begun taking over the Fort since the reopening, but the traditional stiff movements and old fuddy duddys with no rhythym. “You’d have to ask one of the others about those for an exact answer but pretty sure it’s paid for Ma’s new house-”

“Didn’t she move in with that copper?” “Ex-copper. Bloke bloody retired last year, such a shame, would have been useful having the head ‘form on the books.” “If you boys are ever in trouble, make sure to ask for Dean Winchester - Castiel’s got him on the books good and solid.”

The dark haired man gave a sharp nod at the other’s comments, well aware the recently appointed Chief Constable was on the Catholics payroll. There had been rumours of it being more than money changing hands, however there had been even more rumours of what happened to those who shared those whispers. He tipped his head back, finishing the remains of his glass with a smirk, returned to the table beside the other’s empty glass as well.

“Regardless, that pretty pony has more than made up for it’s cost.”

“Has it now? It’s full cost, huh.” The words surprised the Shadow from the usually silent woman, her red lips pulled into a knowing smirk. There was something truly smug in her look, and a dark sense to the words as Kali looked across at him. “Dear, my glass is empty. Could you?”

“Of course, mon amour.” Gabriel rose to his feet quickly at the query, his own face studiously blank as if not reacting to his wife’s original comments at all. He disappeared into the crowd of dancers in the general direction of the bar without another word, nor a concerned look at all at leaving the woman with the known hothead.

Jeffrey however reacted much more slowly to the pointed comment, hand digging into his jacket pocket for a smoke as he looked at the dark skinned beauty carefully. Lighting up, he leant back in his chair with an air of feigned disinterest. “The cost was paid for within the first two races from what I recall-”

“I asked about it’s full cost, not the pounds put out for it.” “What else did it cost than pounds then?” “I have not seen your younger brother at the races in almost two years, is that right? And from what I have heard, there were some additional items exchanged related to the animal.” “Where would you have heard that from?”

The Indian woman simply shrugged a shoulder, red stained lips stretched wide in a vindictive smile as she looked back at him. Jeffrey could feel his free hand, the one not flicking the ash off the end of his cigarette, clenching into a tight fist at her smug non-response. He was not above hitting a woman if it was required, and the self-satisfied look made him think it may well become required any moment soon.

“I would imagine that you Shadows would have learned by now between your sister, that whore and your own mother to stop underestimating a woman’s power, Jeffrey.” Kali’s tone was almost acidic in her softly accented voice, as the goddess stood up at her husband’s approach. Circling an arm around his shoulder and planting a kiss on his cheek, the woman shot Jeffrey one more knowing smirk before making her way into the crowds with her champagne in hand.

“What has my wife done now?” Gabriel’s worn tone smoothed some of the fury Jeffrey had begun to feel, eyes trying to follow where the dark haired woman disappeared to but losing her quickly.

“Loose lips sink ships, Gabriel, and it seems your wife’s lips are extremely loose.” Jeffrey growled back, accepting the glass of whisky from the other with a scowl. “Might want to look into that.”

—

The pair were the only two still remaining in the office suite that evening as dusk had been left far behind and the streets had been swallowed entirely by the darkness of true night. Visyak Family Ltd had some of the most impressive offices in the city, dark mahogany and crisp leather providing cover for the darker secrets of the business’ legitimate and illegitimate dealings, and only the two men were all that remained of the work force as the clocks approached midnight.

Jackson rubbed tiredly at his eyes for a moment as he looked down at the small sheaf of papers detailing their planned trip into the city to the finite detail he always maintained for such activities. The planning for all eventualities, the carefully compiled dossier on their prospective partner and all those connected to him, the rows and rows of calculations on how to achieve the goal as profitably as possible.

The other man was sat across the desk from him, copying word for word each page passed to him into the thick black leather journal for their trip. The writing was cramped, tiny and dark with the odd ink splotch getting on the corners of the pages.

As the clock moved to strike one, the pair finally rested back in their chairs as the last dot and slash was finished, and the file was tucked away safely in the locked cabinet.

The dark haired man collected two glasses, pouring a large splash of brown liquor into each as he moved to sit down on his side of the desk again. His office was not as spacious nor well outfitted as his older brothers’ - the third best office for the third brother after all, despite his ideas, his ambitions and his careful planning being the true factor behind their success. His office may not be the best, but as both men sipped at their drink, Jackson did not bite down the smile at the knowledge that his office had the best alcohol by far.

“So, now all we need is a cover story for our London jaunt.” He said with a sigh, blue eyes closing tightly as he reclined back in his leather desk chair as if closing them would be enough to heal the strain of another late night in the dimly lit room reading and writing files.

“What possibilities have you come up with thus far, Jacky?” The other man, his right hand man in all ways in the last two years quietly. Richard ‘The Wolf’ Amon had grown quickly in the years since his faked death. His head still rung with the sounds of war on more occasions than he would like, however he had been accepted into the business more fully than he had in past. The tasks and drive giving the man something to focus on other than the screams of the incoming detonations.

“Ma is due back this weekend from her... vacation, perhaps that could be an excuse to accompany her return.” “Bit late notice wouldn’t it be?” “Perhaps...”

Jackson frowned slightly as he shared a look of exasperation with the culry haired man across from him. The whole success of this meeting was hinged upon being able to successfully organise, orchestrate and operate the plan without the knowledge of the rest of the family. That the hour was so late, that both had been working non-stop for four hours on the practical and future elements of this venture did not excuse their inability to craft an acceptable lie to conceal their actions within. Blue eyes stared into the brown liquid of his glass as if they were hiding the last piece to his puzzle, just below the reflective surface.

“Would your sister wish to go to London? Maybe we could chaperone her.” Amon questioned quietly, eyes diverted towards the only window in the room as if not wanting to meet the others eye. The man had taken his one-time assignment watching over the only girl of the Visyak family to be a long-term task; often found following the girl about Small Heath or the rest of Birmingham as if he was her own shadow. It was not uncommon to see the dark haired pair, with the curly-haired man carrying an umbrella for the other, or her outter coat thrown over his arm when the sun came out. “You’d like that wouldn’t you.”

The pair lapsed into an awkward silence at that point, one of the men flushed and focussed upon his drink to avoid responding; the other focussed more upon how to hide his business travel into the city from the rest of the family. His meeting was not for the Visyak Family books nor the Faceless Shadows ledgers yet; until an arrangement and agreement made, this could not appear anywhere in the official or unofficial accounts, nor had he discussed his plans at any family meetings since he had first begun investigating the opportunity.

Much like with that horse and those godforsaken guns, this was part of Jackson Visyak’s personal and private goals to achieve. Part of his secret goals to step out from beneath the ever reaching shadows of his older brother’s - a cog in the machine designed to allow him his own emancipation from Michael’s controlling behaviour and Jeffrey’s dark reputation. If he, the youngest, the smallest, the runt of the family could pull this together, Jackson would never again stand beneath anyone in his family and eventually the whole nation. Never again would someone look at him and remember his failings.

“Perhaps Shada would enjoy a trip to the city...”

—

It was a typically wet English day, dreary weather and grey clouds with the never ending cold that would soak straight into your bones the moment the drizzle would start. The clouds were dark and threatening to let loose their bounty, but it had kept off thus far as the couple stepped off of the train and were waved to cheerfully by the two smiling women that had come to see their return.

“Ma!” “Elle!” “Girls!”

The greetings came loud and happy as Eleanor released her husband’s hands to embrace her daughter and granddaughter-in-law tightly. Both girls had become close friends in the last year since the engagement, and Eleanor was so pleased to find that that had not changed while she was away enjoying her travels abroad.

As Eleanor pulled back from the hugs, she smiled to herself as Shada threw herself at her new step-father to likewise greet the typically grumpy man. Robert Singer was well known for his perpetually existing frown, however that had not stopped the dark haired girl from treating him like a member of the family the moment he had slipped the golden band on her mother’s finger. The man had grumbled about it at length the week before they left for the continent, but Eleanor could always see the small smile twitching at the corners of his mouth under the scruff when he would do so.

There was a cough from behind the giggling girls, and Eleanor found herself quickly covered by a large umbrella moments before the downpour began.

“Thank you, Richard dear.” “You’re welcome, Mrs Visyak- uh.. Singer?”

Smiling at the typically nervous boy in response, the older woman found her arm threaded through her husband’s as the quintet made their way out of the station and into the shiny black Pierce-Arrow awaiting them. The car was new, Eleanor did not recall it being in the collection just two months ago, and as the five made their way to the elegant house Eleanor and her now husband had moved into before their honeymoon began she spotted the rest of the fleet of vehicles ranging from the old Chalmers from four years earlier, to the Buick’s her son’s frequently drove around in, to the one Rolls Royce Michael had indulged himself in after the injury. Something about making a classic impression with a modern design. The vehicle maketh the man, or some such rot.

“Is the whole family here to greet us?” The grumbled words came from the man in front seat, the cap upon his head pulled down further over his forehead as he seemed to shrink into the seat. Her husband never appreciated being the cente of attention. She knew first hand that while he could be charming, confident and downright commanding in the right circumstances, that being faced with her entire brood and their collective expanding circle of quasi-family members was not one of those circumstances. “Thought they’d be...getting ready for a race or something.”

“Races aren’t until Sunday, silly! Plus, we all wanted to welcome you home good and proper.” Eleanor watched as her daughter replied haughtily, though the sweet smile on her face as she leant forward to wrap an arm around the man’s shoulder belied the potential condescending nature of her words. “Jacky and Amon also had to run by my trip with the others, so we figured why not a family meeting too.”

Eleanor felt the blood rush from her face at that, eyes wide as she clambered from the car with the assistance of the young man who’d driven them. He then turned his attention to helping the other girls from the car, following the pair into the house ahead of the newlyweds.

“They’ve called a family meeting already?” “Guess we’re throwing you in the deep end, love.” “Thought I was through with this when I retired. They do know retirement is supposed to be peaceful...” “I’m sure that this year will be more peaceful than the last.”

“Last year your eldest was still healing from getting shot in some unknown incident he still will not share the details about, your middle boy was in jail almost as much as out, and your youngest-”

Eleanor coughed loudly as Robert appeared to be working himself up into one of his infamous rants, hands tugging this way and that at his cap as if unable to reach a comfortable point with it. Her own hands reached for his as they stood on the path leading towards the door and the madness that was her family behind it.

“Love, this year... this year will be our year. Our chance to start anew together, our new life together. It will be the start of our story, and we will not dwell on the troubles of the past.” She spoke firmly, fingers weaving through his, and the older man smiled ruefully at her optimism.

Pressing a kiss to her lips that sent butterflies through her as they always did, Eleanor sighed softly in response to the man’s gruff response, “I wish that could be, Elle’, I wish that for you.”

—

The music was loud. Loud enough to make the crystal chandeliers shake and shiver in time with the giddy crowd circling beneath it in exhuberant movements. If she looked close enough at the dark corners around the room, it would be clear dancing and drinking were not the only activities being engaged in that night within the private club. In the quiet swells of the unpredictable jazz tunes filling the building, the sounds of moans, groans and the occasional scream could be heard from those secret and almost private spaces.

The dark haired girl was not there for those engagements however. The Marie Antoinette glasses used by the premises suited the glamour the club tried to present, while also maintaining the seductive streak, that gentle brush against what a good girl would be seen engaging in and what she wouldn’t. Lifting her glass to her lips, crystal cold against her lips, and the deep plum lipstick mark of her kiss left upon it as she turned to watch the revellers, eyes wide and drinking in the sights like her lips drank down the French wine.

So many luxurious fabrics, so many golden accents and illuminated refractions danced around the room alongside the dancers themselves; bathing the darkness in the rainbow and sucking the eye away from the secret engagements.

When her brother and Amon had suggested a trip to the city, she was certain they had not intended to for her to go to a place such as this. She was certain if her brother could see where she was, he would have her in the backseat of his Buick heading back to Birmingham within moments. His friend would not have allowed her within the lobby itself, let alone through to the main room of the club. If Jeffrey were the brother, he would be in one of the booths with his cock being sucked and a glass in each hand without a care at all at her presence. If it were Michael.. well, Michael never suggested anything of interest any more.

Sighing, Shada turned back to the bar itself as she finished her drink and flagged down the barman for another.

“I am glad to see I am not the only woman, unaccompanied, this evening.” The voice spoke from beside her, a gentle Russian accent gliding over the words like the silks both women wore.

The woman had a look of amusement on her face, her dark eyes rimmed in black liner and lips a bloody red. Her dark hair was amassed around her head in waves, and there was a modern headpiece band across her forehead. It shone in the dim light, the beautiful diamonds and rubies decorating the silver looking almost as if they were real.

Shada’s eyes focussed upon their glimmering, if they were real, this woman was about to become her new best friend.

“Seems that there were quite a few of us earlier.” “Yes, it does seem that way. Perhaps we are arriving late to the party.” “All the acceptable men appear to have-” “Made their way to secluded places with the less pretty women?”

Shada found herself smiling at the woman’s comment, flicking her own hair back from her shoulder as she turned her full attention to the other woman. “Nice to meet you, I’m Shada Visyak.”

“Ruby Tolstoy, please to meet you.” The slightly disjointed words came out with a friendly smile from the Russian as the barman returned to fill both womens glasses. “I am happy to meet lady much as myself.”

Shada smirked a little in return, twisting in her chair and recrossing her legs as she looked the other woman over. Aside from the extremely expensive looking headpiece, she appeared to also have excellent taste in clothes as much as she herself did. Both women had on stylish dresses, with delicate beading over the intricate lace work, and if Shada was not mistaken the other’s silk slip beneath her overdress was almost as good as her own. The Shadow was drapped in black silk, black mesh and black lace with deep purple beading; while the Russian was in a deep red ensemble. However while the other had the beautiful headpeice that had recently come into style, her own neck was adorned with long silver chains and pearls instead of diamonds and rubies.

“Perhaps you like dance together instead of with pitiful men not worth dirt beneath foot?”

“You would not have to ask me twice!” Shada smiled back at the other, as she tapped her glass to the others with a clink. The pair finished the most recent round of champagne, each savouring the bubbles as much as one can, before both girls rose to their feet.

Taking a hold of the other woman’s hand, Shada weaved the pair of them towards the dancefloor to join in the spirited mass of bodies, to move to the music, to lose hours into the early hour of the morning when the sun would rise and dye the sky red.

—

“Welcome to me bakery. We bake the brown bread, we bake the white bread, we make the best bread in London, you know.” The cheery sounding words were matched by the warm smile and the open arm gestures about the factory as he was guided through into it’s depths. The smell of molasses surrounded them, thick and sticky in the air, clogging up Jackson’s nose as they moved through the busy distilery. “Over ten thousand loaves a week, we bake. Anything like this up in your little back country sticks?”

“Not to this extent,” he replied, hands tucked into his coat pockets as the pair stopped at a table littered with bottles and glasses. Jackson looked about old factory, the store room with the curved red bricks above them filled with barrels in each store section. “Ten thousand a week you say?”

“Between the bread and the other bread, ten thousand.” The shorter Jewish man replied back, waving a hand at the table. “Want to try some of me wares? Brown or white?”

“Brown.” “Brown it is. Be a good lad, pour ‘im some brown would you. What you think of that, mate?”

Jackson waited for the nameless man behind the table to pour a splash into a glass, before trying the warming brown drink. Rum was not his preference, but it was a desirable asset in the America’s, even more so now that there was the loom of prohibition. Real whiskey would always be worth more, but the mark ups would lose their chance for a wider market.

“Not bad...” “Not bad? What fuckin’ bullshit. Brown bread is for the workers, it’s trash, awful stuff that is. White is for the bosses.” “Got to know where you come from, Mr. Gallagher.” “True that, true that. Come’on then lets get down to real business.”

Andy Gallagher lead the pair back towards the office in the back corner of the factory. Away from the cloying scent of cooking sweet sugar mixes, away from the heat of the distilery spires. Away from the downcast eyes of the factor workers. The shorter man did not make an exceptionally threatening look to him, scruffy hair and a somewhat unkempt beard, shorter stature and a stained white shirt with his waist coat and apron just as brown with dirt and signs of work. However the hard set of his jaw, the few dark patches of ink visible on his skin where the sleeves were pushed up and the way none of his workers even dared look up at his passing, made it clear he was not a pushover.

Entering the office, the Jewish man moved straight for his seat behind the desk, and Jackson ambled in behind him. Sliding his jacket off and throwing it over the back of the chair before it, before sitting down himself. Lighting up a cigarette, he pinned the other with a piercing look.

“You boys from Birmingham..I’ve heard some very bad, bad things about you lot.” “I came here to discuss business with you, Mr. Gallagher. You are no squeaky clean operation here yourself, so..” “Eh that is true, business it is then.”

Both men raised a brow at one another, one appearing calm and relaxed as the king of his own castle, golden chains around his wrists and fings on his fingers glinting in the lantern light, while the other appeared to sink into the darkness of the underlit room, dark suit and darker hair hidden in the shadows his group were named for.

“You’re in the losing side of a war here, Mr. Gallagher, against the Reapers and those new witches alike.” “A war ain’t over till it’s over, mate. You’ve been in wars, you know this.” “Our war is over, it’s your war now - and we could be of great assistance in yours. You need to be more realistic.”

The baker’s eyes fashed slightly, a small frown forming on his face as he leant forward in his chair, elbows resting atop the desk surface as he surveyed the other. Jackson merely stared back, steely blue eyes taking in everything and not reacting as the other man seemed to slid into his own thought process.

“Realistic?!” “If you weren’t in a war, you wouldn’t have sent that telegram last month.” “That was just a friendly ‘hello’ of all things-” “Look, you are losing here. Your distilery makes up ten percent of your takings, another ten is in security and the rest is from the race tracks right? You’re not going to like what I have to say, Mr Gallagher-” “Andy if you’re goin’ to be rubbin’ me this closely, sweetie.”

Jackson bit down a growl at the man’s interruption and his cavalier, crass words, though the wave of the baker’s man for him to continue allowed him a sigh. “Your bookies are getting chased off the tracks, we can help with that. The premises that take your rum are getting closed down, we can help with that. People not trusting your protection any more, we can help with that. And all we ask in return is a partnership.”

“We can help, aye?” Andy Gallagher’s eyes lit up at that, a grin sliding across his face as he fished a bottle of whiskey from the drawer of his desk. “And where is the rest of this we, Mr. Visyak. Where is the rest of your collective Visyak Family, huh? Where are those little Shadows that storm about Birmingham, eh?”

“I am the one you are working with, Mr. Gallagher, and you will come to see just what I can achieve for the both of us.”

—

[lovehotelreservation]

Your Bonaparte

Summary: As a soldier of the French army, Polnareff was used to abiding by whatever command he’s to follow, fulfilling them with perfectly and with grace. Even so, he’s rather keen on ordering you--an aristocrat he’s had his eye on--around. Especially after you’ve invited him to your bedroom. French Soldier AU

Rating: R

Pairing: Reader/Polnareff

HELLO EVERYONE! Alas, the spam buffet is now open with a variety of choices to select from~ Shall we try the French cuisine first~?

Anyhow, this one-shot is heavily inspired by “Napoleon Says” by Phoenix, and in turn is dedicated to my darling @tallkin, whom I luv and adore very much!

I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!

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Surely this was no way for an aristocrat to behave.

Though, even if you could still hear the faint rumblings of yet another party in the Palace of Versailles, you still felt miles away from the rest of the party-goers.

Especially as you remained tucked away in the lavish surroundings of your bedroom, meant to only be seen by those who rose above the mere upper class, the elite in the social hierarchy.

Save for the man who invited and lead up to your room.

He was a soldier--a damn good one at that, given by the display of medals adorning the fine material of his uniform, which in itself was something to marvel. Especially with how it stretched and fitted his well-defined, muscular physique.

A fearsome warrior in battle who would strike down anyone who defied his country, a gentleman who was enamored by the idea of romance.

Jean Pierre Polnareff was in your room, and he was instructing you to strip for him.

You've had your eye on him for a while. His top rank as a soldier granted him entrance to the Palace, whether to adhere to his duties to serve the monarchy, or to join in one of the many lofty, indulgent celebrations held frequently by the royal family. It was hard to not be taken by him, with silver hair that was as striking as his swordsmanship, a face and physique that made his charm even more effective.

And how could he not be enamored by you?

With how many royals he has served and seen firsthand, they all seemed to blend together as one, whether by personality, aspirations, and attire. But you, even with your privileged upbringing, were different. Simply put, you stood out.

Never did he see royal outfits coordinated in such a way, with your choice in color, and selection of accessories and the like. There was wit and substance to what you had to say, without at all being pompous or arrogant, instead complimented by your welcoming personality.

He wanted to see everything of you, to peel back the layers of what made you as you were--in addition to your attire.

Months of flirtatious back and forth lead up to this moment. Would you like to thank this soldier for serving your country? Would this warrior like to indulge in pulling up the priceless fabric of your gown to nestle himself between your thighs?

Tonight would be when the both of you would say "yes."

There were a few candles lit around the room, causing a near sensual glow within the space. Hearing his instructions--a purr that was still firm and laced with assertion--left you eager in anticipation for what would be next. Though, preferably you would've wanted those large hands of his to strip you down himself.

However, he just wanted to see how you undressed yourself, something for him to keep in mind for the future--certainly tonight wouldn't be the last, and he'd rather not resort to something as barbaric as tearing off your clothes.

At least, unless you asked him so.

In the meantime, you obliged with his demands.

Jean was sitting upon the edge of your bed, his lips quirked in a grin as he watched you do everything that he said.

Take a few steps forward.

Your back must face him.

Strip.

Bodice first and--

"Turn around, chaton."

What a delightful sounding purr.

You faced him, only to be beckoned over by his finger. Without the bodice, your décolletage drooped lower, exposing more of your beautiful chest. His eyes met yours for a moment, his grin widening before he brought his lips up to your revealed skin.

Your knees buckled as you felt the warmth of his kisses. Your gown had yet to be shed even halfway, and yet he was already rendering you weak by merely allowing his mouth to roam above your breasts.

It was a brief indulgent however--even if he waited so long to do so--as once he pulled back, he hummed, "Return to where you stood and keep stripping, mon princess."

The walk forward was a bit slower, your legs feeling wobbly.

So smooth and gentle, yet so commanding.

You wondered what it would be like to see his battle-ready ferociousness first hand.

In the meantime however, you would continue to listen to his direction.

It all seemed to fall in a familiar pattern however, which--while it offered a good way to determine the flow of things--only heightened your desire for him, making any moment spent not being touched and fondled by him all the more excruciating. When you undid some lacings, when the fabric of your gown became noticeably looser, when you shimmied out of your stockings, and more, he would call you over to feel, touch, and kiss what was revealed.

You were left a dazed mess merely by standing before him, your hands desperate for support by gripping onto his shoulders, all while he left hot kisses on your bared breasts or over the fabric of your panties, which were left drenched by your doing and him running his tongue over it, just before he yanked them down himself.

"You, my darling," he growled with satisfaction while marveling at your beauty at its purest form, "are what I've dreamt of fighting for."

A rush of heat flooded your cheeks and your grip on his shoulders tightened. Your teeth caught your bottom lip, all before you moved your hands to cup his chiseled face. "And I've fantasized about you, Jean. Though..." Lips forming into a pout, you huffed while tugging on his uniform with your fingers, "I still seem to be left dreaming. How much longer will you keep me in mystery?"

There was a hand on your wrist just before you found yourself yanked towards the bed. A dazzling rush, you were on your back while Polnareff took the place of where you stood all in one fluid motion--a dexterity that would work in battle, and even better on your body. You could see the gleam of his medals and the brass buttons of his uniform jacket, the latter of which he proceeded to undo.

His cerulean blue eyes captivated yours while he licked his lips, "Ohoho, am I going to have fun with you, chaton."

Your gaze did not waver--in fact, proceeded to challenge his, "Is that so? Will I be playing with the knight, or the warrior?"

Jean's uniform jacket fell to the floor. Or, was moreso tossed aside. Followed by his belt, his pants, and more until you witnessed him in his full, modelesque glory.

It would be unsightly for an aristocrat to drool, but truly he was like a marble statue come to life. A sense of perverse glee filled you as your eyes dropped down to his erect cock, which only stoked your hunger for him even further.

A prideful smirk swept over his lips, "Oh chaton, that look in your eyes. I wish to marvel at it forever." He stepped forward, approaching the bed, approaching you. Eyeing your naked body, he purred, "But in the meantime, please let us commemorate a night that you will be certain to never forget."

To make love?

Hot, open-mouthed kisses. His calloused palms cradling your hips while he eases his cock inside you with deep, languid strokes. Your hands grasping onto his shoulders as you shudder and moan his name. His lips praising you for your perfection, for how the warmth of your core squeezed around him so tightly.

Or.

To make war?

Bites to your neck, scratches to his back. On your hands and knees, your jaw slack in a near mindless, frenzied pant as he fucks you from behind. Grabbing your hair, slapping your ass in tune to the quick, merciless rhythm of his thrusts. Teases of an aristocrat acting so disgraceful while a knight yields to his depravity.

One or the other--or both--sounded like a lovely way to end the spend this evening.