#something about scents mingling and it affecting perceptions or something

[marc--chilton]

(mgv) house taking to chase and thirteen as his pups means once he's mates with wilson, wilson starts taking to them through osmosis. which is. weird in work hours. because wilson does a lot of his pda on autopilot so he'll go in the diagnostics room for coffee and on his way out he'll brush his wrist across house's neck, peck thirteen on her crown, and pet tenderly through chase's hair

[natsaffection]

Kingdom of Secrets | part I | N. Romanoff

Knight!Natasha x younger!princess!Reader

MINOR DNI!! (18+!)

warnings: age gap (Natasha is 34 and reader 22) spanking, forced Masturbationen, fingering, begging, strap on use (r receiving), rough sex, kinda possessive natasha

word count: 5,3k

A/n: Sorry for the Delay!

1 year later

In the quiet sanctuary of their chamber, the soft glow of the candles bathed Princess Y/n and Natasha in a warm embrace. The air was filled with the delicate scent of roses and the flickering flames cast dancing shadows on the walls. Wrapped in plush blankets, you lay next to Natasha, their fingers intertwined in a silent affirmation of the love that bound them.

Natasha's gentle touch traced circles on your skin, creating a rhythmic dance that mirrored the beating of their intertwined hearts. Her eyes met yours, and in the soft candlelight there was a deep affection in Natasha's gaze that went beyond the bounds of duty.

In the soft glow of candlelight, the room became a place of warmth and intimacy from you. Candles flickered and cast a shadow dance on the walls as Natasha, wrapped in the faintest hint of moonlight, snuggled close to you in the bed adorned with silken sheets.

Natasha's fingers traced delicate patterns on your skin, creating a symphony of sensations that echoed with the tender affection between them. The air was filled with the sweet scent of jasmine, an aromatic embrace that heightened your senses as the two of you shared the silence of the night.

"Natasha," you murmur, your voice a soft melody that harmonized with the flickering candles. "Have you ever imagined what life would be like outside these palace walls? Beyond the fields?"

Natasha's eyes, which looked like orbs of molten amber, met yours with a warmth that went beyond the flickering flames. "I have wandered vast realms, seen sunsets that tint the sky in colors you cannot fathom. And yet there is a certain..magic within these walls. Magic that I have learned to appreciate."

A wistful smile curled your lips as you intertwined your fingers with Natasha's. "Magic, huh? Is it the kind that makes my heart beat faster every time you're around?"

Natasha chuckled, a low, melodic sound that echoed through the chamber. "It's a kind of magic that exists in shared moments, a dance of hearts finding solace in the stillness of the night."

As her laughter mingled with the soft rustle of the curtains in the night breeze, your gaze softened. "You know, sometimes I wish we could escape expectations and just...Be."

Natasha's thumb traced patterns on your palm. "In the quiet moments, we are free to be ourselves, away from the burden of titles and duties."

The flickering candles cast a warm glow on Natasha's features as she continued, "Your laughter, Princess, is a beacon of joy. Within the shelter of these walls, we find a sanctuary where our hearts can speak truths untouched by the world."

Your eyes sparkled with a playful gleam. "Do you think the world out there would understand our truths?"

Natasha's gaze had a depth that reflected the starry night. "The world can be a complex web, my dear. Some may understand it, while others remain trapped in their perceptions. It is the journey of those who seek true connections to unravel the threads."

As you continue to recount the intricacies of palace life and your dreams, Natasha's keen senses picked up the muffled sounds of frantic footsteps and hushed voices from behind the door. Her eyes, normally a picture of calm, flickered with a subtle alertness.

"Nat...," you sigh again, and your eyes twinkled dreamily, "Do you ever think about what might be out there for us?"

Natasha's gaze lingered on the door for a moment before focusing on you again. "Always, my princess. The world is big, full of untold stories and unexplored territories. One day, you may write your own story beyond these walls."

Just as you were about to say something back, Natasha raised a hand, a sign for you to be silent. The distant echo of hurried footsteps and murmured conversation reached a crescendo, causing Natasha to rise from the bed with fluid grace.

"Natasha, what's wrong?" you asked, your brow furrowing in concern.

Natasha's eyes met yours, and a hint of worry softened her features. "There is unrest in the palace, my princess. It seems urgent. Prepare yourselves. I will be back soon."

As Natasha left the room, questions began to swirl in your head. The air felt charged with an unspoken tension, and the flickering candles cast dancing shadows that reflected the uncertainty in your heart. You dressed quickly, your fingers fumbling with the intricate fastenings of your royal robe.

When Natasha returned, her expression was a mixture of seriousness and readiness. "Y/n, the kingdom faces a challenge. Your presence is required among your family. I too have matters to attend to."

You nod, your eyes reflecting a mixture of curiosity and concern. "What is going on? Why is the palace in such turmoil?"

Natasha's gaze lingered on yours, a silent confirmation of the weight of the unspoken. "I will tell you everything, but now go to your family. Your father will have the answers you seek."

as you, flanked by Natasha, approached your family. The flickering candles cast dancing shadows that seemed to reflect the uncertainty in the room.

King Alistair's eyes met yours, and with a subtle nod, he motioned for you to join him. There was a motherly concern in the Queen's eyes, but the King's stern expression indicated the seriousness of the situation. You frown, your curiosity accompanied by a growing unease.

Turning to her father, you looked to him for answers. "Father, what's going on? Why the secrecy?"

King Alistair's eyes carried a weight that went beyond words. He motioned for you to stand beside him and signaled the commander of the palace guard with a look to address the room.

Commander Alden stepped forward, his voice calm but carrying the weight of somber news. "My King, we have been ambushed. A gang infiltrated our defenses, and their attack was brutal. Several of our best soldiers were killed, and the Holy White Knights were dismembered."

There was an awkward silence in the room, broken only by the distant echo of the castle. Your eyes widened in shock, and your gaze instinctively sought Natasha's. The usually composed knight wore an expression of silent dismay. The weight of the tragedy hung heavy in the air.

"The attackers," he began with a heavy sigh, "used the blades with a viciousness that seemed to pierce the air. Severed limbs, mutilated bodies, the courtyard turned into a canvas of horror."

Your stomach churns at the vivid idea that the once vibrant palace courtyard was now tainted by the brutality that took place there. The metallic smell of blood, the agonized screams of fallen soldiers, and the lingering shadows of malice formed a grim tapestry that settled in your mind.

"Their faces were shrouded in darkness, their movements swift and merciless," the commander continued, sparing no details. "They showed no mercy and left an image that defies description."

Natasha kept her composure, but her eyes betrayed a flare of anger, a testament to the horrors she had experienced. The magpies, the guardians of the realm, ruffled their feathers, their collective presence a silent acknowledgement of the grim reality they faced.

As the commander recounted the calculated brutality, you felt an overwhelming sense of helplessness, and your mind could not escape the haunting images his words painted. The once pristine palace courtyard, where joyous celebrations had taken place, now witnessed the grotesque aftermath of a relentless attack.

"The attackers disappeared into the shadows, leaving a trail of despair in their wake," the commander concluded in a heavy, sad voice. "We managed to capture one of them, but he remains mute."

The king's eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and determination. "Did you elicit any useful information from him?" he asked, his voice echoing around the room.

The commander hesitated for a moment before delivering the grim news. "Your Majesty, the prisoner has not spoken a single word. He seems to be wallowing in the darkness of his actions, heedless of the consequences."

There was a heavy silence in the room, broken only by the distant echo of grief. You cast a glance at Natasha, sensing an underlying tension in the knight's calm demeanor.

The king could no longer contain his anger and slammed his fist against the armrest of the throne. "Enough of this madness! If he won't talk, then let him face the consequences for his actions. Impose the death penalty!"

You sit there with a heavy heart, your eyes widened in horror as your father announced the decree of capital punishment. The magpies, the solemn guardians of the realm, moved uneasily, their feathers rustling in the oppressive silence. As the death sentence was announced, Natasha's eyes flickered briefly, betraying a flash of recognition. You sense that Natasha knew more than she wanted to admit, and a twinge of curiosity mingled with the sorrow that weighed heavily on her heart.

"B-But Father...isn't that..." The king's stern gaze met your tear-filled eyes, and his voice, though firm, carried the weight of a sad burden. "My precious daughter, this decision has not been made lightly. It is for your safety and the safety of the kingdom. We cannot allow such darkness to threaten our peace."

The words hung in the air like a mournful melody, a reminder of the tragedy that had befallen the palace. The commander of the guard, his shoulders heavy with the burden of the fallen, continued to recount the brutal details of the attack. The image of the palace grounds stained with the blood of loyal soldiers painted a gruesome picture of loss.

Natasha, standing beside you, maintained a stoic expression, but the slight tightening of her jaw betrayed the emotions simmering beneath the surface. You feel a trembling in your hands, an ache in your chest as the weight of the tragedy bore down on you.

As the king's decree echoed through the room, the magpies exchanged somber glances, their sad eyes reflecting the sorrow on your face. The cold reality of capital punishment hung in the air like a shroud, a stark reminder of the darkness that threatened your kingdom.

The announcement echoed through the kingdom, spreading like wildfire as news of the impending execution reached the ears of the citizens. The atmosphere in the city changed, a whisper of fear and uncertainty lingered in the air.

The inner courtyard, once a place of celebration, was now a sombre stage for the macabre spectacle that was to take place there. The citizens, drawn by morbid curiosity, gathered in silent groups, their faces a mixture of trepidation and curiosity.

The condemned man was bound and hooded and escorted to the center of the courtyard. The cold gleam of the executioner's blade mirrored the grim determination on the faces of the palace guards. Your heart, heavy with conflicting emotions, stood beside your father on the balcony and surveyed the scene.

The king, his voice carrying the weight of authority and sorrow, addressed the assembled crowd. "Citizens of Celestria, today we witness the consequences of treachery and darkness that seek to corrupt our kingdom. In the face of adversity, we must stand united and resolute."

As the king spoke, Natasha's gaze remained fixed on the hooded figure below her. You sensing Natasha's inner struggle, placed a comforting hand on her arm.

The hooded prisoner, a vessel of the shadowy group that had ravaged the palace, knelt in silence. The crowd, held captive by the gravity of the moment, watched as the executioner raised the gleaming blade, its metallic glint casting a ghostly reflection in their eyes.

The king's voice echoed through the courtyard, his words carrying the weight of justice and deterrence. "For the safety of our kingdom, for the lives lost and for the hope of a better future, let this be a symbol of our unwavering resolve."

In the eerie moments before the executioner's blade sank, the condemned man, his voice muffled by the hood covering his face, spoke cryptic words that sent shivers down the spines of those present. His last breath contained a grim promise, a dark prophecy that hung in the air like an unspoken curse.

"The spider will weave its web and devour the threads of your lineage," he whispered, his words echoing around the courtyard. The crowd, already gripped by the solemnity of the event, exchanged uneasy glances at the ominous announcement.

Standing next to your father on the balcony, you could feel a shiver creep down your spine. The cryptic message left an unsettling impression on your mind, and the implications of the prisoner's words cast an ominous shadow over the already gloomy atmosphere.

As the hooded figure's life came to an abrupt end, an oppressive silence reigned in the courtyard. The frightening words echoed in the minds of those present, leaving the unsettling feeling that the shadows once thought vanquished still clung stubbornly to the periphery of the kingdom's consciousness.

The lifeless form of the hooded figure slumped to the ground, a macabre sacrifice to the quest for freedom from the shadows that sought to devour Celestria.

There was a deep silence in the courtyard, the echo of the execution still lingering in the air. Your gaze remained fixed on the lifeless figure below you as you grappled with the harsh reality of the decision you had made to protect your kingdom.

Natasha's hand found its way to your shoulder, a silent gesture of support as they watched the aftermath of the execution. The crowd, now dispersing with a mixture of curiosity and unease, left the court in an eerie silence.

The king, his face marked with solemn seriousness, turned away from the balcony, leaving you to deal with the unsettling words that still lingered in the air. Natasha, sensing the turmoil within you, spoke in a voice tinged with understanding. "Don't let the echo of his words consume you."

You nodded, though the weight of the prisoner's prophecy lingered in the depths of your mind. The magpies perched nearby, their eyes twinkling with an otherworldly wisdom, seemed to take unspoken note of the ominous undertones.

As the palace guards left the courtyard, you and Natasha descended from the balcony. The flickering candles that had once illuminated her chamber now spread a softer light, creating a sanctuary within the walls that protected her from the harsh reality outside.

In the seclusion of their shared sanctuary, Natasha's gaze met yours with a depth that went beyond words. "These are difficult times, my princess. But remember, the strength of a kingdom lies not only in its walls, but also in the resilience of its people."

"What if... what if you teach me how to fight?"

Natasha blinked, thinking she had misheard, "Y/n, your place is not on the battlefield. You are the heir to the throne, and your safety comes first. Training to fight is not suitable for someone of your status."

But you persisted. "But.. I can't stand idly by while others fight to protect me! I want to be more than just a passive observer. I want to be able to defend myself, to defend my family."

Natasha's gaze softened as she traced a reassuring pattern on your arm. "Princess, the weight of a sword is not something to be taken lightly. It comes with a burden, a responsibility. It's not just about skill, but also about understanding the consequences of wielding such power."

Undeterred, you look Natasha in the eye with unwavering determination. "I know, Natasha, but I want to learn. I want to be more than just a princess locked inside these walls. I want to be strong, not just for myself, but for the kingdom."

Natasha sighed, her inner struggle evident. "Becoming a fighter is not a decision you make lightly. It's not about romance or thrills. It's about sacrifice and duty."

You lean closer and whisper, "Natasha, teach me. Help me become someone who can stand by your side, not just behind you."

Natasha, her resolve wavering in the face of your earnest plea, finally relented. "Very well, but remember that the path you choose is not an easy one. It will require more than just physical strength, it will demand resilience, courage and sacrifice."

A little later, the two met again in your room. Natasha had brought two wooden swords and now stood before you without armor.

"Hold your stance, princess," Natasha's voice, a melodic command, guided you through the movements. "The sword is an extension of your will, a guard against the shadows that seek to harm you."

You mirrored her movements, your determination overriding any uncertainty. As the training progressed, Natasha's approach evolved, the thrusts becoming calculated challenges, prompting you to respond in kind. The dance of combat took on an almost hypnotic quality, the exchange of steel becoming a silent dialog between the mentor and the budding warrior.

"Feel the weight of the sword," Natasha's husky voice echoed in the chamber. "It's a kind of dance, an intimate conversation in which every movement speaks a language that only warriors understand."

Natasha's hand, now tracing the curves of your sword, added another layer of tactile connection to the lesson. "Your grip should be an extension of your will. Let the sword become an extension of your own being."

The first maneuvers were deliberate, a dance in tune with the primal instincts awakening between them. Each swing of the blade, a seductive interplay of discipline and desire, unfolded in the soft glow of the candles that seemed to conspire in their shared mystery.

"You're a quick learner, dear." Natasha's voice, a low murmur, sent a shiver down your spine. "But swordplay isn't just about physicality. It's an intimate exchange, a connection that goes beyond the surface."

Their bodies moved in a synchronized rhythm, a dance that spoke of unspoken desire. Natasha's hand, firm yet tender, guided your movements, her touch lingering longer than necessary, leaving an indelible mark on the evening's tapestry.

"Feel the tension in the air," Natasha whispered, her breath brushing your ear. "It's the anticipation, the unspoken dialog between the combatants. Allow it to envelop you."

The longer the training went on, the bolder Natasha's approach became. Swordplay was no longer just about technique, but about the weight of an unspoken connection. The chamber, adorned with the soft glow of candles, transformed into a stage where vulnerability and desire danced in harmony.

Their blades met in a dance of sensuality and skill, the flickering candles casting shadows that played with the contours of Natasha's features. "Allow yourself to feel, y/n," Natasha murmured, her lips inches from your face. "The fight is an intimate affair, a shared journey where vulnerability becomes strength."

Amidst the seductive dance of battle, you found yourself entangled in Natasha's deliberate web of desire. Each calculated thrust, each lingering touch sent a ripple through your senses that betrayed the calm façade she desperately clung to.

As Natasha's hand rested on your back, a touch that lingered longer than necessary, you feel the telltale heat rise in your cheeks. You fight to hide the subtle shivers that Natasha's whispered instructions sent down her spine, a battle you were losing with each passing moment.

"Feel the tension, my princess," Natasha's husky murmur echoed in the chamber, and your attempt to hide your excitement faltered. You parted your lips to reply, but a stuttering breath betrayed the inner turmoil Natasha's proximity caused.

With a smile on her lips, Natasha continued to guide you through the intricate steps of the seductive dance. "You must learn to anticipate your opponent's moves, to feel the ebb and flow of the battle. It's a dance, my dear, a dance where every step carries the weight of desire."

Your voice was a barely audible whisper, trying to match Natasha's playful tone. "I... I understand..."

The air between them crackled with a palpable tension, the unspoken desires hanging in the balance. Natasha's fingers traced deliberate patterns on your skin, a teasing caress that left her wanting more.

"You grasp nuance quickly, my princess," Natasha purred, her gaze fixed on you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. "But there's more to learn, and the night is still young."

Your cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and embarrassment, feeling the tension in the air reach a crescendo. You could no longer suppress the playful spark that flared within you and took the opportunity to strike a swift, unexpected blow.

The wooden sword struck Natasha’s face with a loud bang. She dropped slightly to her knees and touched her lips and to your surprise, Natasha's eyes widened briefly before she began to grin. The blow didn't seem to harm Natasha, but rather to amuse her.

You were shocked and dropped the wooden sword and rushed over to her. "By the gods! I'm so sorry, Natasha! I-I didn't mean to..."

Natasha, still chuckling, raised a hand to silence your apology. "No need to apologize, my princess. That was an impressive blow, and I have to admit you caught me off guard."

You're torn between relief and continued embarrassment, couldn't help but join in Natasha's laughter.

"Perhaps I underestimated your skill, Y/n," Natasha joked with a twinkle in her eye. "Lesson learned: never underestimate the unpredictability of a determined student."

As the laughter died down, you gently touched Natasha's face in concern to make sure nothing had happened to her. The soft glow of the candles highlighted Natasha's features, and your touch lingered, a momentary caress.

Natasha took the opportunity and leaned forward with a subtle intensity to capture your lips in a lingering kiss. After a time, she let go and looked deep into your eyes, "What do you think your majesty.. it would only be fair if I could.. hit you too wouldn't it?"

Your eyes widen and you repeat her words in your head, "Y-You want to hit me?" Natasha bites her lips, "Not in the face like you did, princess. But..there are good other places." She moved even closer to you and pinched your butt. You suddenly gasp, understanding what she meant now. Natasha understood by the look on your face that you were getting turned on and turned you around in a matter of seconds and bent you over on the bed. You gasp again as the impact from the soft bed hit you and you look back with a grin, "Princess..you realize you shouldn't like it, right?" She leans over you, her breath right by your ear, "Or am I mistaken?" You think about your answer for a moment, "No..I mean yes..I like it.." Natasha could cum on the spot..she grins and stands back up. She unwrapped your dress so that your cheeks were open to her. She stroked your soft ass with her fingers and suddenly there was a slap.

You fell forward, surprised by the blow. "You're my ruler during the day, princess, but with the doors closed? Oh, you obey me." And another blow, only this time you couldn't keep your mouth closed. "Who would have thought you'd like it like this?" And another blow. You braced yourself for another one, but none came. She reached under your stomach and turned you back to her.

Natasha didn't waste a moment and dropped to her knees, pushing your dress up again, "My goodness, you're leaking." Natasha leaned down between your legs and gently placed her fingers on your pussy. You flinched as she felt you, the sensations she were giving you simply teased and tantalized you.

"Please..." you beg, almost whispering. "Please, can you just..."

Natasha pursed her lips playfully. "Just what? Come on, how am I supposed to know what you want if you don't tell me?"

Your face flushed with humiliation, but you needed it so badly to come. "Please, can you make me...," you swallowed before continuing, "...cum."

"Ah. That's what you want?" said Natasha, as if she hadn't known all along. "You should have said that." With her right hand she slowly stroked up and down. Your rapid breathing told her that you were more than enjoying it. To further stimulate you, Natasha stuck out her tongue and licked you up and down. She noticed how you were reeling and now held you firmly by the hips with both hands and looked up at you, "Do you like that?"

You nodded quickly. You were no longer ashamed, you just had to cum. "Y-Yes..."

And she stopped. She stood up abruptly, took a few steps back to look at you, then jumped on top of you and kissed you. You could still taste the metallic taste of blood on her tongue as she entered your mouth again. She broke away again. "Take this off." she demanded, pulling at your dress. You nervously reached for the hem. "Now." she barked, making you flinch. Awkwardly, you pulled your dress over your head and let it fall to the floor.

Her eyes wandered over your body. You stared down at your feet, your cheeks bright red. "Look at me." she commanded. Your eyes shot up to her. "Sit on the bed." You walked to the bed and sat down. "Take off your panties." She said. You obeyed. You shifted nervously on the bed, feeling vulnerable under her scrutiny.

"Lie back on the bed. Spread your legs." You reluctantly obeyed. "Now touch yourself." she commanded. You looked into her eyes, fear creeping up your throat as you fought for control. You closed your legs. It wasn't going the way you had imagined.

She must have read that on your face. She surprised you again and began to undress. You relaxed a little at the gesture. You noticed that she left her underwear on. "Now. Go on." she said, watching you.

Hesitantly, you opened your legs again. She licked her lips and watched you with widened eyes. You stroked yourself tentatively. Your eyes didn't leave hers. "So that's what you do when you're alone?" She asked incredulously. "You can do better than that."

Your cheeks heat up and you move your hand faster. You stick two fingers into your dripping sex. Your eyes darkened with lust. That wasn't enough. You add a third finger and moan softly. "That's enough." She said, crawling onto the bed to hover over you.

Her mouth traveled down your neck and settled on your chest. Natasha pulled your left nipple into her mouth, her tongue tickling you, then she enveloped it with her lips and sucked hard. Your back arched off the bed towards her. She placed her hand on your breast and pushed you back down, then you felt it again.

Your hands clawed into her red curls, not knowing if you wanted to pull her away or pull her closer to you. "N-Nat..." you moaned in ecstasy. Her mouth released your nipple with a wet crack. The tongue in her hand was still circling your nipple. "That wasn't so bad, hmm?" she asked. She smiled up at you.

"There's one more thing I want from you, though, and you're going to give it to me." She stood up and walked into the next room. You looked after her curiously. When she returned, your breath hitched.

"I had something else good...Do you know Sir Stark? A..creative man." She was obviously trying to lighten the mood. However, you were still a little skeptical, "You want..."

"Yes. But only if it's okay with you, of course." You look at her and the fake cock with a strap in her hand. "Why is there even such a thing?" You had to laugh a little and Natasha followed suit, "Well...I guess I and every other person in the situation can be closer to the partner. Aren't you a bit curious too?"

You thought about it again and in the end you nodded. You see Natasha relax and come towards you again. She kissed you deeply again and put on the straps. When she was done, you felt the tip touch your folds and looked down. She pushed you back onto the bed and she crawled on top of you.

"I'd relax if I were you." she warned, and you really tried, but the pain of her penetration made you tense up again. You cried out, tears leaking from your eyes. "You can take it." She encouraged you, thrusting even further into your cramped hole.

"You're so tight, f-fuck." She moaned into your ear. "Please..." you begged. She pulled out of you, causing you to relax, and then thrust into you again. "A few more seconds, princess." She told you hoarsely. Your tears were now falling unchecked. She brought her hand around and stroked your clit. You struggled to concentrate on her hand and the tongue circling there.

"There, that's better." Her velvety voice whispered in your ear. She rode you hard. You rocked forward and backward.

Her hands instinctively moved to your face, bringing you into a deep, passionate kiss. You let out a small whimper when her hands ventured to your breasts, groping them against her palms.

Their kiss became sloppy as she pinched your nipples, causing you to moan. The sound of their skin slapping together, mixed with your deep, ruthless moans of pleasure and her fake cock stuck inside you, brought you to new heights.

She reached beneath her and began to vigorously rub your clit as she slammed into her. "Unnhh... ohh!" You screamed her name as your inner walls clenched around her. Natasha grunted in reply, breathless, she shoved herself deep inside you, sliding in and out so fast as her hands gripped onto your hips, forcing you against her. "Ahh — lOrd, please..!“

She jerked your hips forward and pulled you into her thrusts with more force. She pulled you hard into her pelvis. "I wish I could come inside you, princess..so much." She buried it in your throat, making her come even deeper inside you. "I think..I-I think...!"

Natasha leaned up again and quickened your pace, "You're close, princess?"

Your thoughts were only felt with Natasha. You wanted to say the same thing, but you couldn't.

"Fuck..how far away are you? You really like it, don't you?" Your hands clawed at the blanket to counter Natasha's swings, "Y-Yes! So-So..."

Natasha started to sweat and clawed at your hips too, thrusting into you faster, harder, "Then show me Y/n..Come on..."

Your breathing quickened and a little later the knot in you and Natasha burst. She collapsed over you and fell onto your chest. "Shit..how do you feel?" She could lose herself in the rapid race of your heart. "W-Wow..."

Natasha grinned, "That's right..you were awesome." She said as she looked at you and brushed your hair out of your face.

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TAGLIST: @taliiiaasteria @natty-taffy @natashaswife4125 @lifebyinez @aemilia19 @clearcoloredlenses @ragoshmog @dvrkhcld @elenimoris @maggieromanov @thesevi0lentdelights @jayceelynnn

[killerskillercaptain]

Canceled lectures, pasta, and feline love

pairing : Levi Ackerman x Reader

synopsis : You study litterature and you're married to Levi, all your classes get canceled and you get to spend the night w/ your beloved husband.

warnings : nsfw

a/n : this fic has been sitting inside my drawer for a bit now, so i thought i'd publish it now or it will just get forgotten and fall into oblivion.

You put on your bomber jacket over your T-shirt, swung your messenger bag over your shoulder and headed out with an enthusiasm you could hardly hide : all your afternoon lectures have been canceled, you could go to Levi's appartement earlier and spend the entire afternoon and the entire night there, walking down the stairs of the college where you studied litterature, you brought up your left hand up and stared at the small glinting diamond on your wedding ring, and a smile, just as shiny as the rock appeared instantly on your face.

You and Levi had just gotten married, he felt he was ready and steady enough to balance his life, you, and your awful temperament, and basically everything in between.

You were in your last year in college and Levi was very supportive of your aspirations. Even though you were married, you still didn't live together in one place, it has been only two months since the ceremony, and you still had a lot of things to move out of your appartement, changing adresses and other small details that were taking way too much time to both your likings, the situation didn't but you two had to be patient.

You jumped out of the last step and landed on the nude concrete, heart fluttering like the one of a child. The sky was incredibly blue, not a single cloud around, the sun was warm and swimming in the clear blue, you noticed how stunning the details in the architecture of your building was, it was a beautiful day.

You literally thought that this day couldn't get any better.

Just when you reached the portails of your college, you heard your phone ringing, it was Levi.

"Hello ?" you singed into the device hoping your good mood will reach Levi on the other end of the line.

"Where are you brat ?" a masculine voice asked

He calls you brat even though there were only a few years separating you in age, you hated that nickname and that's exactly why he keeps on using it.

"So that you know who's in charge here" he told you once jokingly as both of you sat on a couch preparing for the wedding, but you knew Levi too well, and knew he wasn't entirely joking.

"I am actually heading out to your place sweetheart" you said smiling mischievously, since he was going to call you by the nickname you disliked the most, you were going to do the same, he hates it when you call him sweetheart. "I have good news, all my lectures have been canceled ! I am all yours today !" you finished.

"Well i called to tell you i was making your favorite dinner-"

"Pasta ?" you interrupted him overjoyed.

"Pasta" he confirmed.

"Oh Levi !"

"Yeah yeah just come home already, looks like you're having a really nice day huh ? some people really have it all..." he said sarcastically, and you being able withstand his stingy tongue and not be affected by it is probably one of the reasons he married you.

"But you have it all too Levi !" you said, a smile perceptible through your voice.

"I do ?"

"Yeah, you have me !" your laugh ringed through the air making its way through the phone, you were now walking down a really crowded road and some people turned around at your loud and joyful laugh.

"Hurry and come home already ! Your cat is annoying me he wants you ! and be careful when you cross the street idiot" The reason he said that is because he could hear the sudden honks that bursted all over, you yelping and someone in the distance shouting at you. Talking on the phone and crossing a street was never something you were good at.

"I'll be there in ten minutes..."

"Wonderful" he said in such an apathetic voice that you knew he was being sarcastic again.

but you weren't finished

"...sweetheart"

CLIC !

*****

Putting a bag filled with some ripe and red apples in front of his door,, you searched for your keys in your messenger bag and opened the door to what was your small heaven on earth, before you heard the familiar clicking sound you could hear your cat scratching the door, your feline companion really did miss you. You picked up the bag of fruits that your bought on your way and entered the quiet and minimalistic appartement. It smelled so clean, as usual, and some tea was being brewed, black tea probably. You took off your jacket and bag and laid them carefully on the arm of the grey -and incredibly comfortable couch- in the living room. The kitchen was at the left, separated from the room you were in by a big wooden furniture with shelves, and just when you were about to get in there, the man who was sarcastically teasing you on the phone appeared, wearing a black top, and black jeans, his hands tucked in his pockets.

"What's that ?" he asked pointing at the heavy bag.

"Apples, i know you love them!"

"Great"

"So you too can have a perfect day"

"I can't have any good day with this cat using me as his scratching tree" he said while the said cat jumped on the counter where you were washing the apples in the sink.

"Hello little guy, did you annoy Levi as i asked you too ?" you nuzzled your cat's head, the purring that started automatically had you smiling fondly.

You heard Levi shuffling your way and coming to stand next to you to watch you wash the fruits. He was just standing, but you were so comforted by his presence and his incredible warmth.

"How are you doing today ?" he asked, voice low and almost husky ?

The cat hopped on the floor and started going in circles around your leg while Levi's arm slowly made its way to your waist in such a caring and loving manner that it almost surprised you, making you look up at him, your faces were so close you could feel his breath on your nose.

He's been drinking tea you thought to yourself.

"I feel great" your words were sure joyful but your tone was a bit off, and Levi was quick to notice it.

"Why are you lying yo me ?"

"I am not lying to you, i really do feel great, it's just-"

You exhaled deeply. It's true you were as happy as someone could be, but you were also very overwhelmed by all the changes in your life happening all at once, the mariage, the moving out, the workload in college, this new life, you were the type of person to get easily stressed when overwhelmed, and your were grateful for a husband and a partner like Levi who made it seem like you could do it, no matter how hard and stressful it could get.

"Levi, you did absolutely nothing wrong, it's me, i'm a little bit stressed about everything. not because i don't want it, it's what i have always dreamed of, i'm just...well, stressed, you know me...

-"always stressed out about anything and everything." finished Levi, putting your final thoughts into words.

He looked at you with a very serious look while you rumbled about every little thing that has been bothering you, paying attention to every word you said, when you finished talking he nuzzled your neck just like a cat would do to comfort you. A small candid laugh slept through your lips at the gentle gesture.

-What's so funny ?

-I just realized you're just like a cat !

-Excuse me ?

-You hate having to socialize, you like to stay alone and only like my company or the one of only a few people...and just like a cat you know how to show love when someone needs it the most.

*******

Small candles lit up the small space of the living room, a bigger candle -that you insisted on buying not long ago only to realize later that it was ridiculously too big- was sitting down next to the couch casting soft hues on your naked bodies.

All the candles smelled so good.

They wrapped the room in a vanilla scented veil, keeping your bodies warm.

"Levi...i love you so much"

Your voice almost cracking half way through your sentence, you couldn't help being vulnerable tonight. You didn't have the time to eat that pasta Levi had been preparing all afternoon and that you've been waiting for all evening. When you were standing in front of that sink, going on about how hard it was for you to keep up, his arm around your waist slowly climbed up to rest on your shoulder and pull you closer, then the pulling closer became kissing your forehead, then kissing your forehead started to become not enough. All you remember is that you and your husband ended on the couch making out with a need you didn't even know was there, both of you had missed each other the whole day, Levi being so touchy with you earlier was a dead giveaway, he only touched you this much when he missed you.

You loved this couch it was so comfortable, soon you were making love, wrapped in a soft blanket Levi kept there for his reading nights alone, surrounded by the intoxicating smell of vanilla, yours and Levi's favorite scent to make love to.

His touches were passionate yet calculated, his eyes studying your curves painted by the dim light, he enjoyed looking at you covering your face with embrassement, kissing every inch of you.

The fluttering touches of your sweaty palms, your tangling sweet warm skins and your hot breaths mingling in the air between you two made you dizzy.

Today was such a good day you thought to yourself as you straddled Levi, positioning yourself on top of him, as soon as your most sacred and intimate parts found themselves again, Levi's breaths became erratic, slipping grunts here and there, telling you to move, go faster as he was entranced by everything about you.

He parted the two locks of hair covering your face like someone would part the curtains so the light would shine on them, and the suns in your eyes made him all too aware of how much you two loved each other.

He loved every inch of your body but also every inch of you, your mannerism, your happy mood that always seemed to rub off on him, your laugh, your joyful spirit, your boldness, the one you display when you take the lead in bed, just like you did right now.

Sweet moans soon filled the room, your head pulled back, mouth hanging open, you didn't bother cancealing anything, because anything that could show Levi how happy you were here and now was to be welcomed, to be expressed freely. Soon, sweet and lovely waves of pleasure washed all over you before you collapsed ontop of his now drenched chest, sighing at the drowsiness embracing you slowly.

-I guess it's too late to eat that pasta now.

-It's okey, i just had my other favorite meal.

-And what's that ? asked Levi with a half smile that made him look so handsome.

-You.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Comte’s One More Wedding Event (full release)that should have just came out in Japanese Version. Could you translate it or summarize it, please? Thank you for your time.

I can't believe you want to give me this kind of power, but if you insist 😂💛

That being said, because my translation skills are rough at best, I'll be summarizing and selecting specific parts to discuss if I feel a need to quote directly.

If you don't want spoilers for Comte ES, run!

Y'all. Y'ALL. REEEEEEEEE I LOVE HIM. NOBODY LOOK AT ME I'VE BEEN CRYING ON AND OFF FOR DAYS

ANYWAY

So this particular event begins with MC bringing Comte a letter as he thanks her. One glance at the return address tells him that it's a pureblood gathering invitation, and upon opening it he's right. He shrugs it off and says he'll reply to it later, setting it aside.

MC, perceptive as ever, asks if he's declining the invitation. Comte explains the nature of the party and how only purebloods are allowed to end. Furthermore, the gathering takes place on their first wedding anniversary--and he would much prefer to spend the day with her.

Comte: “MC, any gorgeous evening party–no matter how beautiful–means nothing to me without my wife at my side. The place I belong is with you.”

MC: “Er…”

His gold eyes are steady and unwavering as he looks at me, and my heart skips a beat.

Comte: “Anywho I have no intention of attending this party, as it also overlaps with the date of our anniversary. Our first wedding anniversary is an important day, and I want to spend it with my beloved wife.”

Comte smiles winningly, all while staring straight at me.

MC, however, finds herself conflicted. Given how little she knows about purebloods, she wishes she could attend the party to better understand him and the community he's a part of. She admits this, to Comte's great surprise, but feels bad about it because she doesn't mean to ask something impossible of him. (One of the requirements of the party is that you have to be a pureblood vampire to be invited. ON WEDNESDAYS WE WEAR PINK) Comte clarifies that--because she's his wife--she's welcome to attend alongside him. He offers to take her with him if that's what she wants.

MC: “Are you really sure it’s okay for me to go, though?”

Comte: “Certainly. But I would never force you if you were uncomfortable, of course.”

MC: “No, I don’t hate the idea!”

Comte: “But I’d understand if being surrounded by purebloods would be rather nerve-wracking for you…And so many of them have a superiority complex a mile wide; they’re a prideful bunch. While it may not be all of us, there are enough that it might be stifling for you to be around them.”

Comte: “In light of all that, are you certain you still wish to go?”

[I know he’s just doing his best to prepare me for what I might face at a party like this--he doesn’t want me going in with the wrong idea. It’s very likely he had intended to decline the invitation to spare me the discomfort, and the burden of making a choice that would affect/limit him too. The concern in his features makes me melt.]

The part I love most about this scene is that this is just the beginning of so many attempts on his part to prepare her realistically, but also support her decision. As much as he wants to go with her he's never going to put her in the position of deciding for the both of them. He knows there's a great deal of pressure to face among such a forbidding/traditional society, and if she needs more time to prepare for that--he wants to give her the space to get used to something so unfamiliar. In truth, I don't see him ever asking her to go if she didn't want to--even if it stung to have that part of him rejected...

MC considers for a moment, but she's resolved to understand him and his people better. She explains as much, and Comte brightens at the confession.

MC: “I’m sorry if it’s a bit much to ask of you, but thank you…!”

Comte: “I should be the one thanking you, now I look forward to the gathering.”

MC: “You’re…looking forward to it?”

When I tilt my head quizzically, le Comte draws me close with a faint smile on his lips.

Comte: “I’m excited to introduce you as my wife.” (SCREAMS AND CRIES)

This gets INSANELY cute because he gathers her close to him and she just gets very bashful about it. She apologizes--saying she knows she should be more used to it given they've already been married a year now, but his response is so sweet: “Why apologize? I’ve always thought my wife is the cutest.”

They both think back to their wedding ceremony at the mention of how long they've been together, and MC's eyes find the flower pins she gifted him on top of his hourglass (which fking one he has like 300).

Some background for anyone unaware: when Comte and MC got married, MC gifted him these flower pins--they were flowers that were preserved (in metal I think? idk exactly how it works they just look metallic in his outfit art). She explains that they're an attempt to symbolize her love for him, in that she intends to remain unchanging in her feelings forever. I find it's also an apt metaphor for MC herself; it's not unlike her agreement to become a vampire to stay with him.

MC: “You’ve been taking good care of the flowers I gave you.”

Right next to the hourglass lie the preserved flowers I gave him. They gleam in the light with ease, clearly polished and looked after–not a speck of dust on them.

Comte: “With those you swore your love to me. Isn’t it only natural that I’d take good care of them?” (LISTEN COMTE YOU AND I BOTH KNOW THE REALITY OF THE MALE SPECIES QUIT PLAYIN)

After that scene there's a timeskip to the night of the party--and after everyone celebrates their anniversary in the mansion all day--they hop in a carriage. MC is a little lost in thought, preparing herself for what's to come. When he asks if she's nervous she fully admits to it, but with a caveat. She's nervous because she doesn't know what to expect and she's concerned about committing a social faux pas, but she's not afraid or anxious.

Before I came to this time I had absolutely no concept of what an elaborate dinner party looked like–and besides which, this time it’s going to be a room full of purebloods. I’m nervous, sure, because I’ve never done this before--but it’s not quite anxiety or fear.

MC: “As long as you’re beside me, I’m invincible–anytime, anywhere.”

I can navigate anything: unfamiliar social circles, even an entirely new era of time. Because Comte is always so steady and reliable, always there for me, my anxiety ebbs and I can shine–be the very best I can be.

Comte: “MC…”

Comte looks absolutely moved by what I have to say, directing a gentle, tender look at me.

Comte reiterates his previous warning, that they might be weirdos and/or rude because they're stuck in their ways. He knows their discriminatory nature is wrong, but he believes in her ability to overcome those things--and fully intends to support her. He also lets her know what to expect in terms of the schedule: mostly mingling, and dancing is reserved for the very end of the party only.

Gatsby hour begins and MC marvels at the enormous venue sparsely populated by people dressed to the nines (I can only imagine how Comte dressed her up for this event in light of that LMFAO). Comte tells her he's going to get some drinks, and MC agrees to wait for him. In a classic lowkey queen move, she retreats against a nearby wall to take in her surroundings. She feels a certain intensity to be surrounded by people who look so young and beautiful, and yet carry the experience of lifetimes within them. She also notes the slightest permeating scent of blood in the air, assuming most of the people in attendance are drinking Rouge in their wine glasses.

When Comte returns to her, he offers her a glass of red wine, and she takes it with a smile.

MEAN GIRLS TIME!!!!!

So these two ladies approach le Comte yelling about how long it's been since they've seen him, and about the rumors that he got married. Without missing a beat he confirms it's true, and introduces MC to them as his wife. MC offers a greeting and a curtsy, but the women openly spurn her because she's not a vampire lmao. ("Who put you on the planet" energy, essentially). I still can't tell if they were acting like insane mother-in-laws on Comte's behalf, or out of jealousy--or weirdly both.

All casual dismissal, the women sashay away from us, dresses swishing.

[It seems like I really won’t be accepted as Comte’s life partner so long as I remain human…]

Comte: “…I’m sorry. I’m afraid that is the usual attitude of pureblood vampires. Not all of us are like that, but they still made you feel uncomfortable ;;;;”

MC: “That’s not something to apologize for. I’m happy to attend such a lovely party as your wife.”

I don’t want to ruin the occasion for him, so I beam at him.

Comte: “MC…” His lips descend close to my ear, pressing the lightest kiss against it.

Comte: “Thank you, MC…I’m happy, too.”

While Comte is full of uwus and love for his wife, she notes he stops there--likely because it's a public venue. (And I'd wager respectability politics, given a lot of old school people tend to say horrible things at the slightest sign of PDA lol. It would give them all the more reason to be nasty to MC.) MC notes that no matter how small the gesture or how often he extends his affection, it always sets her heart racing (what a damn mood) and they both gear up to greet everyone else. They're both like ganbatte!!! at each other and it's really cute, haha.

[No matter how many times he does things like this, I’m always caught off guard. I imagine we’ll be this way forever…]

Comte: “Here we go, the party’s only just begun. Let’s get to it and enjoy ourselves. No need to hesitate, it’s our wedding anniversary after all–this is a time for you to smile.”

MC: “Haha, thank you very much! Then I’ll definitely enjoy it to the fullest!”

We continue to greet and chat with other purebloods, the night goes on while I sample some of their food–

At some point MC separates from Comte to use the restroom. When she exits to rejoin the crowd, she hears the voices of those two women that openly rejected her earlier. They basically talk about how Comte and MC will never last or have a meaningful relationship, and that Comte is wasting his time not breeding more master race pureblood babies for the community's future. (Not remotely surprised Leonardo does not like them at this juncture lmao)

While MC was well aware she'd face some level of disdain, she admits that it still hurts to hear--and doesn't want Comte to see her upset. So she walks out to a nearby balcony to look at the stars and cool off before returning to his side.

Comte: “MC.”

MC: “Eh…? Comte, when did you get here?”

Comte: “You hadn’t returned for a while, so I went looking for you.”

MC: “Ah, I’m sorry to worry you. The stars were so lovely I couldn’t help but linger a bit to enjoy the sight of them.”

When I try to hide my gloomy feelings, he stares at me.

Comte: “You seem upset all of a sudden. Did something happen? Did someone…say something to you, by any chance?”

MC: “Ah, I can’t hide from you it seems. I guess I am a little upset.”

Comte: “…”

Comte: “MC, do you regret marrying me?”

MC: “!”

MC: “That’s not the case at all. No matter what finds us in the future, I’ll never regret having married you. I’m glad I met you, Abel–that will never change…”

When I tell him my heartfelt feelings, he gently wraps his arms around me.

Comte: “…Me too, MC.” The voice that murmurs at my ear is filled with such ardor that my heart melts.

Comte: “It might have been too much to ask of you to come here. But no matter how difficult the truth may be, it’s an undeniable fact that I’m a pureblood.”

Comte: “I was so happy that you wanted to know more about me–to know me better–that I was spoiled by your words. And yet, as a result of that indulgence, I hurt you…”

MC: “…No. That’s not it. Abel, I’m not familiar with vampires. But this last year, I was with a pureblood who’s kinder than anyone else I know.”

I have no innate fear or dislike of purebloods–because the person I love more than anyone else in the world is a pureblood vampire.

MC: “That’s why I’m not afraid, or dreading any of this.” It might seem outlandish, but his presence was like magic; it was enough to give me the strength to have courage and find kindness for the people around me.

MC: “No matter who stands in my way in the future, I will do my best to be recognized as your partner someday. Didn't I tell you before? I'm invincible anytime, anywhere, as long as you're there with me!”

Upon hearing her resolve to stay with him, he feels the need to renew his vow to her too--telling her that he'll always love her as well, and that his feelings have only grown since then. One important bit to note in his confession is that he fully admits he had a hard time coming to term with what he was, he's only a little more accepting of being a pureblood because her existence redefines what an eternity means to him. He explains that, while no end of time used to be an upsetting and hollow concept to him, the fact that his long life will be spent cultivating his love for her gives him the strength to face his reality.

They kiss and MC acknowledges that life--no matter how long--always has its ups and downs. Sometimes there will be rough times, like when those Mean Girls women were actively nasty and unfair to her. And sometimes there will be joyous times, like how Comte just repeated his vow to her so sweetly. But more than anything, it's important to live in the present moment as fully as possible, and she deepens her kiss with Comte accordingly.

After what I assume to be an excellent make out, they return to the venue and rejoin the group of vampires. Now then, because it's Comte and Comte refuses to take any shit he reveals his ace in the hand. Premeditated and all cunning expectation, the show begins:

After reaffirming our feelings for the other, we return to the hall. When we wandered around to greet people today, there were also vampires who were kind to me. For those that remain perturbed by my presence, they continue to sneer at me as though I were an eyesore.

[I don’t care. Comte’s by my side…]

Comte: “…That’s right, MC. There was one thing I forgot to mention.”

MC: “Huh?”

Comte: “A short while ago, you said something about doing your best to earn their approval. I wouldn’t even worry about it, you’re perfect just as you are. Everyone here just doesn’t have the slightest inkling as to your charms yet. For those with the ability to see, feel free to show them as many times as you like.”

MC: “Comte…”

At that very moment, a waltz begins to flow into the hall.

Comte: “Oh, is it time to dance already? MC, shall we?” (Oh Is It TiMe To DaNcE aLrEaDy, damn clown)

MC: “Yes.”

In time with the melody, we begin to waltz together. When I'd first arrived to this era, the steps and the dance itself were unfamiliar to me. Now when I dance with Comte it’s nearly effortless–natural as breathing.

[Comte has taken me to so many evening parties at this point. Thanks to his impeccable leading any uncertainty in my step is elegantly disguised.]

Comte: “MC.”

As we danced, he called my name--crooned it softly.

Comte: “…Have you noticed? Everyone is watching us.”

At the sound of this new information, I look around.

[Oh, it’s true–everyone really is looking at us…]

And it’s not like before, tinged with displeasure and contempt. It’s like they can’t look away from us now, dazzled and intrigued.

MC: “Makes sense–you’ve always been a very graceful dancer, Comte, it’s impossible not to find it captivating.”

Comte: “No. Without you as my partner, I can’t enjoy it nearly as much as I do now.”

He grins as he says so, the sentiment reflected in his buoyant step. Beautiful, noble…and above all, lively. Even though I’m always by his side, I remain endlessly captivated by that smile and movement.

Comte: “We are more in tune with each other than every other pair here, don’t you think?”

MC: “Haha, that’s right!”

I think le Comte is lovely no matter who he’s dancing with, but I’m sure I’m the one who gets along with him best–I think so, because his golden eyes reflect no one else but me.

[No matter what anyone says…I won’t give up this position to anyone else.]

When the song is over, and the dance is finished, the hall is filled with the raucous sound of applause and cheering. All these people are looking at us and their eyes are shining.

[I wonder…if maybe our feelings for each other were transmitted more clearly after that dance? The mere thought of it makes me feel ticklish and delighted.]

After their lovely display, the Mean Girls ladies approach MC to apologize as everybody is leaving for the night. MC accepts their apologies and says she wants to find a way to get along with them moving forward, though they're still pretty reluctant (probably only apologized to save face).

Differences in lifestyle and family tradition...I think there are many reasons why they can’t accept me. I don’t think it’s easy to understand the breadth of the gap between us; I’m sure I’ll need more time to be able to bridge those differences.

[I don’t know the way of life or struggle of the pureblood people yet. But…I want to understand.]

Even if we are endlessly different, I don’t want to give up on finding some sort of compromise. Next to me, le Comte smiles silently. For the foreseeable future--as long as it may take--I want to prove that I can make this person happy.

I deadass can't stop laughing at the fact of Comte standing next to MC all :)))))) (y'all he is emitting BOSS M U S I C)

After that, Comte and MC also head into their carriage and head home:

Comte: “MC, thank you.”

Le Comte remarks on the way home in the carriage.

MC: “…? I haven’t done anything worth thanks.”

Comte: “For today, for coming with me. And--up until now and from now on--for being by my side. I wanted to thank you again.”

He leans over from where he sits next to me and entwines our fingers together.

MC: “…Abel?”

Comte: “…Today is not just the day of the party, but our wedding anniversary too, right? From here on out, it’s time for only us two to be together.”

This is essentially where the premium story ends, and then it moves into the epilogue. I'll give some tidbits from the epilogue, just because it was so endlessly gratifying. Other than them having the smash of the century, it's mostly Comte going overstimulation feral service top. But there are so many really romantic moments during the shameless fking ;-;

The more he kisses me, the more my need for him spirals out of control. As if to entice him I twist my tongue with his deeper and deeper.

Comte: “MC…”

He exhales my name on a single heated syllable, and I can tell by the way he’s looking at me precisely what it is he wants.

Comte: “MC, what do you want to do…? I want to make you happy tonight. Do you want me to be kind? Or take you with reckless abandon?”

MC: “Abel…please do as you like. That’s what would make me happiest. :>”

Comte: “…I see. So you want to be made a mess of, is what you mean.”

MC: “Mn, aah–”

When his hands trace my sides seductively, my sensitive body reacts on it’s own.

Comte: “…You’re really cute, MC. Tonight, I’ll remind you the joy of being mine again.”

---

Comte: “Always so sensitive. Just the slightest touch, and you cry out with such a sweet voice…”

MC: “Well, it is your fault…”

[Because if Abel touches me like that…He spoils me and leaves me in an endless sea of pleasure, building up to that crest–fading–and building up again…because he loves me so dearly.]

Comte: “My fault, is it?…I like the sound of that.”

With a bewitching smile, he makes short work of his tie and button down. Even the most casual gestures like this are done with such grace that it becomes sensual. I’m drawn to the sight of him revealing more and more of his skin, thinking he’s far too much of a tease.

Comte: “…If you look at me with such desirous, greedy eyes, I’m going to lose control myself, MC.”

----

MC: “I…all I do is take from you…” I’m embarrassed because I’m so inexperienced that all I do is drown in the pleasure he gives me.

Comte: “…If you really think so, then you’re too unaware.”

MC: “Mn–ah, hah…”

Comte: “I’m the one who can’t stop wanting you…MC.”

When he leans over to murmur in my ear, his voice is suffused with desire–breathing shallow. From the gap between his lips, I can see the fangs which have never broken my skin…

MC: “Abel…do you want to bite me?”

If the answer is yes, then I’d be delighted. A vampire’s hunger for blood is often tied to romantic feeling. If he wants to suck my blood, then that’s all the more evidence that he loves me.

Comte: “That’s right. I want to sink my fangs into your soft skin…To taste your blood, to know your body and soul--I want to make every part of you mine.”

MC: “Mn…”

He drops a kiss to my throat, tickled by his tongue as he licks there–as if to taste me.

Comte: “But…”

Only I am reflected in his eyes.

Comte: “The only thing I want more than biting you is to take good care of you. I don’t want to impulsively take anything from you.”

MC: “Abel…”

....

Comte: “Someday…I will make you into a vampire. But, right now, I want you to stay exactly as you are.”

The heat of him coupled by that serious look...my heart is swept away.

Comte: “So…can you bear with my hesitation for just a little while longer?”

MC: “Yes…forever. I’ll always be yours.” I replied, wrapping my arms around his back. He squinted, as if he were staring at something dazzling.

Comte: “I’m always hesitating, but…MC. I will absolutely never let you go. I swear my love to you forever, my dear wife.”

----

The last part of the epilogue is confusing because I'm not sure if it's intended to be an actual dream or Comte just messing with her, but here goes:

[Morning already…?]

At the sensation of sunlight, I open my eyes.

MC: “Eh!?”

Comte: “Are you up, MC? The defenseless face you make when you’re asleep is adorable, but when you open your eyes and look at me that’s also lovely.”

He was lying in bed, unlike last night, wearing the same outfit he had on for our wedding.

[Ah, I’m most likely dreaming.] When I realize it, I get a ticklish feeling in my chest and can’t help the smile that finds my face.

MC: “Haha…”

Comte: “MC? What’s wrong?”

MC: “No, I was just thinking you really will always be by my side. I’m glad to see you in my dreams like this…I’m happy.”

Comte: “…Haha, that’s right. I’m happy too. But…it’s not always a dream right?”

MC: “Er…”

His voice easily makes my heart flutter, like sweet sake.

Comte: “Would you like to see if it’s a dream? …Once again, with your body.”

My heart thunders under his sultry gaze, covetous gold eyes beckoning me closer. (COME HITHER FUCK)

MC: “Yes, Abel. As many times as you like…take me.”

I know dream-like, impossibly happy days will continue as long as I stay by his side–

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

There is so much going on here that I don't even know how to encompass all my feelings other than to say MARRIED COUPLE G O A L S. AAAAAAAAA I LOVE HIM SO MUCH HE'S SUCH A DOTING HUSBAND!!!!!!!!!!!!!! PUT A RING ON ME S I R

I really love the endless reciprocity coming from MC, lmao. She very openly wants to respond to his efforts, wants to make him happy too, is just as desirous in their coupling. I also love how much personality and spunk she has??? I was fucking d y i n g when she was like:

MC: "Aren't the stars so nice." Comte: "Adorable that you'd try to out-fake the king faker. What really happened." MC: "Damn it."

It's been a long time since I've gotten this much serotonin from a story m a nnnnnn

[shitty-marvel-fan732]

Hi! I LOVED your peter x Barnes-Rogers post, I was wondering if you could do one where maybe Peter (being the lovable dummy that he is) feels like the only way he can protect her is to break up with her?

Thank you so much for this ask! I loved writing this. So sorry that this has taken so long, life has been STUPID hard lately. 

So I wrote like 1100 words for this ask, because I have no self-control lmao. So I broke this into two parts, and I’ll post the second part a lil bit later in the week. 

Title: Guilty, Part 1 of 2

Pairing: Peter Parker x Barnes-Rodgers!Reader

Requested: Yes!

Warnings: Peter is a sad boy, slight injuries, and I think that’s it?

Summary: Peter is worried the dangers of being Spiderman’s girlfriend are too much for you. 

Link to Part 2

"Mmmm yeah no I'd definitely fuck Spiderman."

Peter nearly choked on his slice of pizza. Face rapidly turning pink at the mention of his alter ego, he whipped his head around in an attempt to locate the source of the somewhat disturbing statement. It seemingly came from a group of sophomore girls sitting a few tables behind his -- the girls were all furiously giggling at their friend who looked utterly unashamed at her bold declaration. Peter couldn't help the small smile that stretched across his lips. He knew that those girls had no idea who Spiderman really was, and even if they did he was more than happy in his current relationship. Still, the sentiment was a little flattering all the same.

Or disturbing. He couldn't quite tell which.

"Pete?"

Peter's attention was pulled back to his own table, the soft call of his name from you all he really needed to refocus completely. You were gazing up at him from your seat next to him, beautiful features gleaming with a look of amused curiosity as you silently asked what had him so distracted. Sending you a reassuring glance and squeezing your hand that was nestled firmly in his, he shook his head. 

"I'll tell you later," he mouthed.

You quirked an eyebrow and shot him a look that clearly said 'you'd better' before turning your attention back to the conversation you and Ned had previously been having.

Watching the two of you argue childishly over your opinions on what the better Star Wars adaptation was, Peter couldn't help but grin. A wave of affection washed over him and butterflies danced happily in his stomach at the sight of you interacting so naturally with his best friend. He'd known Ned and MJ for much longer than you had, but over the time you two had been dating you'd effortlessly folded yourself into his small group of friends. Even though it's been months now, the simplest of interactions still warmed his heart and filled him with pride.

Despite the interruption, Peter's ears were still trained on the conversation of the group of girls behind him.

"Say what you want, Bucky Barnes is absolutely the hottest avenger," he heard another girl chime in over the dull hum of the other conversations in the busy cafeteria. He wrinkled his nose a little, an involuntary shudder going through him at the mention of your dad in this context.

"Mm, sure but let's be honest dating a superhero would be fucking awful," the first girl grumbled. Peter frowned.

"Are you nuts? It would be amazing!" her friend replied, disbelief lacing her tone.

"Please," the girl scoffed. "I can't even imagine the kind of scary shit you'd have to deal with on a regular basis."

Peter heard her friend hum thoughtfully.

"I guess, but I mean you'd still get to be with a god. Literally in Thor's case," she giggled.

"Whatever. Just seems downright dangerous if you ask me."

The girls moved on to a different topic, but Peter was still thoroughly distracted by what they'd said. He realized abruptly that he'd never really considered the affect his superhero life could have on you. What if those girls had a point? Was he putting you in harm's way just by pure association? Peter felt his stomach flip and lurch at the mere thought of something happening to you, and the idea that it would be his fault settled like a rock in the bottom of his belly. His mind whirred into overdrive as anxious thoughts filled him with an increasing dread and left him feeling paralyzed.

He was so still, in fact, that you took notice of his motionless form. Even though he was the one with the spidey senses, you seemed to have a knack for knowing when he was upset. Thumb rubbing across his knuckles absentmindedly, your gaze turned towards him once more, a frown marring your soft features.

"Petey? What's wrong?" you muttered quietly, voice just loud enough that you knew he'd hear but low enough that it didn't alert anyone else at the table.

He swallowed thickly and looked over at you. Your eyes were locked in on his face with a sparkle of concern playing in the y/e/c irises. Guilt began to mingle with the anxiety in the pit of his stomach as he noted your slight distress. Shoving all of his feelings down as deep as they would go, he managed a smile and kissed your cheek softly in reassurance. 

"Don't worry about it angel, it's nothing," he lied smoothly.

Your eyes narrowed ever so slightly in suspicion, clearly not buying his excuse, but you allowed MJ to pull your attention back to the table's discussion all the same. Peter sighed lightly in relief at the distraction. Though he was turned towards his friends his mind was a million miles away, the girls' words echoing loudly against his skull.

  --------------------

A few hours later Peter was feeling only slightly better.

After lunch he'd managed to make it through the rest of the school day without so much as a second alone with you. While that would ordinarily be a bad thing, he knew that the moment you two were alone that you'd expect an explanation for what happened at lunch. You were incredibly perceptive, and Peter was certain he'd wind up telling you everything. Not 100% sure of his own feelings at the moment and completely terrified of your reaction, he decided to avoid you until he'd processed things. He'd practically ran out the door after the last bell, shouting that he'd meet you at the tower after patrol for your usual study-date and leaving you behind, confused and more than a little suspicious.

Patrol did little to quell his nervousness.

The streets were unusually quiet tonight and the monotony allowed him to picture all kinds of horrible things that could happen to you as a result of being associated with him. He tried to push the thoughts away, but he couldn't help but spiral a little further into his pit of self-doubt. Instead of the distraction he was hoping it'd be, Peter's mind ran wild as he watched the city from above.

Eventually, it came time to meet you, and Peter'd be lying if he didn't admit he was a little relieved. Being separated from you was always difficult, and the withdrawal from your presence felt like it was amplified by his anxious state.

Winding his way through the familiar tower halls, Peter decided he needed to tell you exactly what he was feeling. Though he wasn't much more certain about how he felt, he knew that you would make him feel better. He wasn't used to feeling so disconnected from you, and regardless of his thoughts to the contrary he couldn't quell his desire to be near you. He'd been overwhelmed with the urge to feel your soft skin against his, smell your sweet scent wafting into his nose, and hear your quiet words of reassurance in his ears ever since you'd parted ways earlier in the day. He knew it was selfish, but it felt like he was going to reach his breaking point soon if he didn't get what he needed.

And what he needed was you.

"Oh my god! Y/N, what happened?!" he exclaimed as he finally made his way to the common room and caught sight of you. Caught off guard, you jumped slightly at his bold entrance before grinning widely at him.

"Hiya Petey!"

Ignoring the way you completely evaded the question, he was by your side in an instant. His palms lightly grasped your cheeks as he examined your face gently. You had an angry-looking mark blossoming under your right eye, and your upper lip looked as if it'd only just stopped bleeding. His eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets at the sight of your injuries, and he felt anger bubble up in his chest. For all his over-thinking today Peter never once considered finding you like this.

"Seriously, what the hell happened?" he practically growled, a feeling he could only describe as rage filling him at the thought of someone hurting you. You opened your mouth to speak--

"That's exactly what we were wondering," a voice cut you off before you could reply. Peter turned, surprised to find your dads standing near your desk, arms crossed and expressions furious. He turned back to you only to find you rolling your eyes at the three of them.

"So Y/N, care to explain?" Steve demanded firmly. Peter shuddered a little at the tone of his voice. It was the same one he used in the field --the one you jokingly referred to as his 'Captain-voice' -- that clearly left no room for negotiations.

"I already told you, it's no big deal," you drawled, clearly unfazed by your dads' obvious anger. Peter frowned.

"Are you serious?" he gaped. "You're hurt, of course it's a big deal!"

You rolled your eyes once more, but your face softened just the slightest bit at the evident worry lacing his tone. 

"Doll, just tell us who did this so we can maim them," Bucky practically barked. His hands were clenching and unclenching uncontrollably, and his eyes were alight with a kind of fury that made Peter shiver a little. You, however, either didn't notice his anger or didn't care.

"Oh please, like you all haven't come home from missions with much worse," you snapped. Bucky's jaw twitched in anger, and he opened his mouth to reply.

"We're not talking about us right now," Steve interrupted smoothly. "We're talking about you."

Expression irritated, you opened your mouth --clearly about to spit out a snarky reply-- but Peter cut you off before you had a chance to speak.

"Y/N, please?" he begged quietly. Your eyes snapped over to his face, the irritation fading from your y/e/c irises at his gentle plea. You chewed your lip a little, brows furrowing slightly in contemplation before sighing.

"S'not a big deal," you mumbled. "I just got into a fight with some asshole girls after school today."

"What girls?" Peter asked evenly, fighting the bubble of anger that was threatening to erupt from his body. You just shrugged nonchalantly, evidently unwilling to elaborate further.

"Y/N," Steve said warningly. You sighed, shoulders dropping.

"Just some girls! They were talking shit--," you started, pausing only when Steve shot you a warning glance. "Sorry Pops. Talking trash about dad and Peter, or rather their alter egos I guess. Anyways, I obviously took offense -- you know cause they're morons -- and things just kinda escalated from there."

The effect of your explanation was instant. Steve's hardened expression eased the slightest bit at your story, his eyes flicking to his husband as he cautiously appraised his reaction. To Bucky's credit, if he felt any type of way about what you'd said it didn't show on his face. Bucky remained stoic and he hardly moved a muscle. If it weren't for the fact you knew he had super-hearing you might've thought he hadn't even heard you. Peter, on the other hand…

It was like someone had knocked all the breath out of his body at once. His heart lurched and remorse burned at his insides. His anger quickly gave way to utter guilt, and he felt his face drop despite his best efforts. All the fear and guilt he'd been wrestling with all day felt like nothing compared to now.

You were hurt. And it was his fault.

"Like I said, it's not a big deal," you supplemented quickly as you noted the mens' various reactions. "Seriously, you should see the other girls' faces. I wouldn't be surprised if we get a call from Tiffany H.'s plastic surgeon thanking me for all the money he's about to make."

Peter felt frozen. Normally he would've chuckled at the adorably smug look that'd taken over your features, but he couldn't manage to muster up any feelings outside of his own self-hatred at the moment. Bucky, however, did not seem to share this sentiment. He loudly chuckled at your quip, a proud sparkle gleaming in his eyes and a wide grin plastered across his face. Steve still stood with his arms crossed, expression stern.

"Y/N, you can't just go around getting into fights just because you don't agree with people," he lectured. Bucky snorted.

"Really Stevie?" he chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "I'm getting the most distinct flashbacks of a certain sickly teen who picked fights pretty much wherever he went…"

Steve's face flushed with the slightest twinge of pink at his husband's insinuation. You grinned widely at your dad, clearly delighted with the turn the discussion had taken.

"Again, we're not talking about me," he covered quickly, weakly hiding his embarrassment with a cough. "Y/N, you're grounded. One week, starting now."

Your jaw dropped.

"What?! That's not fair at all!" you spluttered indignantly. "Tell him he's crazy dad!"

Bucky chuckled once more at the sight of your complete and utter shock, his grin only dropping once he caught sight of his husband’s unamused expression. He cleared his throat quickly and crossed his arms once more before shrugging at you.

“Pops is right Y/N, you can’t just go around getting into fights. No matter how good you are at ending them…”

“Oh come on,” you groaned, rubbing a hand across your face in exasperation. “It’s not a big deal, right Pete?”

Peter blinked, pulled only back to the conversation at hand once he heard you call his name. Shaking his head slightly to try and remove the lingering feelings of shock and guilt, he looked blinked slowly as his eyes darted between you and your dads. Opening and closing his mouth wordlessly, he felt utterly at a loss as to how to respond.

"It's a big deal if we say it's a big deal," Steve countered firmly. "So I'm sorry Peter, but you'll have to go now."

You scoffed, arms crossing furiously as your face crumpled into a pout. Ordinarily Peter would've giggled at your childish gesture, but at the moment he could only muster enough attention to nod. 

"Yeah, o-okay. I'll see you later Y/N," he muttered quietly before leaving in a daze.

If he weren't so consumed by his own thoughts he would've seen the look of concern that passed over your face or the confusion spattered across your dads'. But Peter didn't notice either, too busy trying to sort through the torrent of thoughts and feelings currently raging inside his head. He walked out of the tower on autopilot as his mind was wracked with guilt over what'd happened to you. Left with only one possible conclusion, he returned home feeling utterly devastated with what he knew he had to do.

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

Bucky was confused.

He'd noticed a distinct change in his daughter's behavior lately that only seemed to be getting worse. He internally wondered how long this'd gone on, because let's face it, he knew if it gotten to the point that even he'd noticed, then it must've been a while. Bucky used to pride himself on knowing everything about you, but as you'd grown older he found himself knowing less and less. Despite Steve's constant reassurance that it was simply the way things went when kids became teenagers, he still felt that little twinge of guilt in his belly when his seeming ineptitude as a parent was called into focus.

Like now.

You'd become withdrawn and quiet, a far cry from your normally energetic and talkative self. You were spending more and more hours secluded in your bedroom, and he could've sworn he'd caught you looking as if you'd just been crying on more than one occasion. All the signs were pointing towards something bothering you, but Bucky felt utterly lost as to how to determine just what that even was, much less figure out how to help you with it.

Currently, the team was finishing up with their nightly dinner, and your strange behavior was once again on the forefront of his mind. You sat across from him and Steve, looking more like a zombie than anything else. Your normally bright eyes looked dull, the dark bags under each of them looking practically a mile long. The food on your plate looked untouched, and Bucky felt a stab of panic deep in his chest as he realized he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen you actually eat something.

"You okay doll?" he questioned you softly, voice low. You hardly moved, the brief flash of your eyes towards his the only indication that you'd even heard him.

"I'm fine," you muttered, gaze dropping to your dinner and fork moving more of your food around aimlessly as you fell silent once more. Bucky's brows furrowed deeper at your dull response, the lingering fear and discomfort settling deeper into his stomach. Steve eyed the two of you, expression full of concern. His hand gently rested over Bucky's in a show of solidarity with his husband until Bucky's gaze moved towards him.

"Any idea what that's all about?" he muttered quietly. Steve just shrugged, but his clear blue eyes were brimming with the same look of concern and slight confusion as Bucky's.

"Can I be excused now?" you mumbled without so much as a glance upwards. Steve shared a worried glance with Bucky before he cleared his throat.

"You have to eat something Y/N/N," Steve replied quietly. "Can't you just take a couple of bites?"

"S'cold," you protested, voice still devoid of any emotion. A flash of memory invaded his mind of he and Steve cooing and pleading with you as an infant, trying helplessly to get you to eat your food. He fondly remembered the way your chubby arms would cross as you stubbornly refused to eat your pureed food, a picture perfect miniature of Steve. His heart twisted painfully at the stark contrast of that strong-willed little toddler with the shell of a teen he saw now.

"Go into the kitchen and heat it up then," Bucky tried. You didn't move an inch. "Please?"

Sighing, you brought you picked up your plate and trudged away. Bucky let out a sigh of relief, but ran his fingers through his hair nonetheless as confusion and concern continued to rage fitfully in his mind. Steve didn't appear to be fairing much better -- he sat stoically next to him with both hands folded tensely under his chin.

"Seriously Steve, what the hell is going on with her?" Bucky asked exasperatedly. His husband sighed, his own fingers moving to rub against his eyes tiredly.

"Do you two honestly not get what's bothering her?" Natasha interrupted quietly. The supersoldiers glanced over, and she rolled her eyes at them. "Seriously? It's been like 2 weeks."

Now it was Bucky's turn to roll his eyes at her flippant tone.

"So are you gonna tell us what's bothering her, or are you just gonna judge us some more?" he huffed. Nat smiled coyly, relaxing back in her seat and folding her arms across her chest.

"I feel like I can manage both," she quipped good-naturedly. Steve sighed again.

"Come on Nat, just tell us. Please?" he begged, eyes silently pleading with the redhead. Nat seemed to soften a little at this, her green eyes flicking towards the kitchen quickly before she leaned across the table.

"Since I'm certain you'll never figure it out on your own, I'll tell you. But you have to swear you won't let her know that I'm the one who told," she muttered secretively. Bucky nodded dumbly, too eager to figure out what was eating you to care about her somewhat condescending tone. "Haven't you noticed that there's been one less arachnid-themed hero around the tower lately?"

"No. Wait, you mean Parker?" Bucky answered suspiciously. Nat rolled her eyes again before nodding tersely.

"Mhm. Seems like our resident kid-genius broke up with your girl, and now she's completely devastated."

Bucky felt his face furrow into an even deeper frown. Of course Parker had something to do with this.

"So you're saying she and Peter broke up and that's why she's been like this?" Steve interjected, his face a mirror of his husband's. Nat nodded once more, eyes flicking to the kitchen as she heard the beeping of the microwave.

"Yep. Well, to be more accurate he broke up with her, hence her mood," she whispered. Anger began to churn in Bucky's stomach and he felt his fists clench unintentionally at the accusation.

"That little punk," he seethed. "Who does he think he is leaving her like this?"

"I don't know the exact details, and I don't think she really does either," Nat continued. "She said he mentioned something vague about 'not being able to keep her safe' before just cutting off all contact. Poor kid didn't even get a say in it."

"That doesn't make any sen-"

"Hello my little дорогая," she greeted you warmly, voice raising back to a normal volume as you slumped down into the seat next to hers. You managed a half-hearted smile towards the assassin before you began lightly picking at your food. Steve clamped his mouth shut at the sight of you, the grateful smile he shot your way not reaching his eyes. It seemed that the talk with Natasha hadn't made your situation much clearer for him, and he looked utterly confused and perhaps more concerned than he had before.

But Bucky wasn't.

Something Nat said had triggered something for him -- a tiny piece of information that'd seemed inconsequential at the time that now made sense. Grabbing his husband's hand and squeezing it firmly, he gave Steve one last reassuring glance before he left the table. He knew what he had to do.

[revangerang]

Fate’s Reprise

Synopsis: As Kagome struggles to find her place after her return to the Sengoku Jidai, Rin is kidnapped and she must join up with Sesshoumaru to get her back. But is there something more to all this than a simple youkai attack?

This first chapter of my first ever fic has been in the works for over a year now, so I figure it’s about time to just do the thing and post it. I posted a previous version of this back at that time for kaoruhana’s New Years Challenge on Dokuga, but this is the final product! I hope you enjoy coming on this journey with me~

This fic will mostly stick to manga canon, except if I don’t feel like it haha

Btw with regard to scent, please try to envision the actual scents rather than the like yankee candle imitation kind~

[AO3] ~ [FFnet] ~ [Dokuga]

Chapter 1: Prologue

Kagome’s head was beginning to spin in an overwhelmed frenzy. There were too many people. Too many faces, too many names. Too many expectations for the woman she was supposed to be.

[[MORE]]

Around her, revelers laughed and danced, ate and drank, visited stalls and participated in various festivities. When they saw her as they mingled, they engaged her in conversation and urged her to join in whatever fun they were having.

“Miko-sama, thank you once again for tending to my daughter in her illness,” said a man whose name possibly started with an N. “It is thanks to you she is here today.”

She hid her panic beneath a wide smile and did her best to make conversation without revealing that she remembered absolutely nothing about these people who were supposed to be her neighbors.

She was saved- and once again distraught- by a group of preteens who dragged her off to dance with them. She did her best to keep up with the moves, but they were so foreign to her. She felt her already pounding heart speed up with the physical exertion, and the determination not to let them down.

A young boy approached her, and she broke away from the dancers.

“Miko-sama, will you play that game again with me and my friends?” His face was lit up with an expectant smile.

Did that happen? Had she played a game with this child? When?

“Of course I will!” she beamed down at him, trying to keep her voice pitched with enthusiasm rather than panic. She hoped the noise of the crowd helped to hide it.

“Hurray!” he shouted. He grabbed her hand and suddenly began dragging her through the festival at a near-run.

She wracked her brain to remember who the child was and what game she was about to be expected to play, while trying to avoid running into anything or tripping over her feet in her traditional waraji sandals.

They flew by banners celebrating the anniversary of Naraku’s defeat, strung up on the tops of stalls which were selling the same banners in miniature, alongside masks and small charms. There were even charms made to look like the Shikon no Tama, she noticed with a gasp.

Her eyes widened in shock and surprise, and her heart clenched painfully. She wanted to laugh and cry- who would have thought those silly keychains of her grandpa’s had gotten their start all the way back here, just a few years after the jewel was rid from the world. Jii-chan would be so proud. But he was now lost to her forever on the other side of the well.

As she was still being led through the maze of stalls by the child, she blinked back her tears- and immediately ran into someone. Her hand slipped from the child’s grasp as she stumbled slightly to the side. Her momentum was still propelling her forward as she spun in place to apologize. She hit another festival-goer, and sent a stand of masks toppling over.

“Miko-sama!” several voices called nearby, hands reaching out.

“I’m so sorr-!” Suddenly, deafening booms rang out with great flashes of light.

Kagome jumped and shrieked, and as the fireworks continued to ring out she breathed a quick “excuse me” and fled, as fast as she dared, into Inuyasha’s forest, unable to handle any more.

~ ~ ~

Sesshoumaru leaned down and placed his hand gently atop Rin’s head. His ward turned her bright eyes from the empty sky where moments before she had been admiring the glittering fireworks.“I’m so glad you came to celebrate with us, Sesshomaru-sama!”

“Hn.” He nodded to her, eyes softening. She was no longer such a tiny thing, but was not yet a young woman. Leaving her here in the village had been the right choice: she was learning the ways of her people well. He had no doubt she would be well-suited to whatever choice she made for her future.

His hand lingered a moment longer before he turned to walk from the festival grounds. Though the festivities would be going on for a while yet, he felt he had properly fulfilled his obligation, and was much more content to observe the rest from a distance. He kicked Jaken for good measure, knocking him out, after the imp began a diatribe about how all the lowly humans should be honored to be graced with the presence of a taiyoukai such as the Great Sesshoumaru-sama.

As he made his way across the edge of the field, he noticed the Miko’s scent leading off into the trees. It was fresh, and it had a strong tinge of fear and distress. He reached out his awareness, but could sense no hostile presence nearby. Odd. He relaxed his muscles, which had begun tensing to rush to face the potential threat. Curious, he followed her scent and pulsing reiki a ways into the forest.

When he found her, the sight that greeted him sent a momentary flash of frost through his veins. He had never before seen the Miko in such a state. Even when he had very nearly killed her, she had always been bold and utterly fearless. She had never cowered as she should, but brazenly stood her ground, glaring and even chastising him.

But now she was huddled down on the forest floor, her form curling tightly around her knees where she knelt. Her face was pressed down to the grass, her arms wrapped around her head. She was trembling and scarcely breathing. Her heart beat wildly like an erratic bird. He inhaled lightly. He could detect neither blood nor tears. What could be affecting the woman so?

“Are you quite well, Miko?”

~ ~ ~

The further Kagome had gone into the forest and away from the festival, the more her swirling thoughts seemed to overwhelm and paralyze her.

Why had she just taken off like that? What was wrong with her? Why couldn’t she just do what she was supposed to do? Be who she was supposed to be? Why had she even come back here to the past? She was so far from everything she had known and loved for her entire life, aside from the one single year she had spent shard-hunting. And even that life had been completely different from life in the village. She didn’t know how to live here. She didn’t know how to do this.

Slowly, she descended to the ground, her limbs stiff. On her knees, she sank further down, curling around herself. Her eyes were wide, staring blankly at the grass before her; the breaths she took were coming in tiny sips of air. She began to tremble.

In the back of her mind, she felt Sesshoumaru’s presence coming closer, as that singular thought repeated itself, louder and louder, nearly screaming in her head: I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know how to do this! I don’t know how to do this!

“Are you quite well, Miko?”

At the use of her title, she made a small strangled gasp.

Miko. That person she was unable to be. That role she was unable to fill.

She knew she should sit up and reply, but her body wasn’t working properly. She managed to lift her head from the ground and turn her sad, panicked eyes to meet his.

He regarded her for a moment, then turned to walk away. Her heart clenched and all she knew was she didn’t want him to leave.

“Please,” she shook her head. “Where..?”

He paused. “To retrieve the Hanyou.”

“No-“

He looked at her.

“No, please. I don’t- want him here.” Not like this. She couldn’t handle that right now.

“Please,” she said again, imploring him with her eyes. “I need-“ Something. Company. Something to ground her to reality.

He gave a barely perceptible nod and turned back to face her.

Slowly, she sat up, her wide eyes coming to rest on her lap.

A child’s exuberant laughter rang out over the din of the festival. A breeze rustled the branches overhead, sending leaves down like confetti. Kagome gave a pained chuckle. It seems even nature has expectations of me.

“I don’t even know what I’m doing here,” she told him quietly.

“Do you not wish to be?”

“I did. I don’t know. I thought it would be good. I missed being here, being on adventures, being with my friends. But it’s been years! I’ve changed. They’ve changed. Except Inuyasha, but somehow that’s even worse. I’ve grown and moved on ahead while he’s stayed the same. And living here in the village is nothing like my life here before. And it’s nothing like the life I was studying and preparing for back home either.” She clenched her fists resting on her knees. “I just. I feel so lost. But I’m the Shikon Miko- everyone has all these expectations of me built up since I’ve been gone, and I don’t know if I can ever fulfill them.” Kagome let out a breath as she finished. It felt good to voice her thoughts. Even if Sesshomaru didn’t care, he had at least listened.

She looked up at him, wondering what he was thinking, and if the taciturn taiyoukai would say anything.

~ ~ ~

Sesshomaru paused when the Miko haltingly asked him to remain with her.

After a moment, she began to tell him what troubled her. As she spoke, her body began to calm. There was still lingering worry and sadness in her scent, but it was not nearly so pronounced as before, when it had been nearly a beacon. It seemed words were the correct method of helping her.

When she had finished speaking, he took a seat at the base of a tree: one leg propped up and an arm draping languidly across it.

“You miss your home.”

“Yes, very much.” She smiled sadly at him.

“Is it so different there?”

She blinked at him. “Oh. Did you never- No one told you where I come from?”

He raised a brow. Did she truly expect him to have paid attention to such a trivial detail?

“Well,” she paused, seeming hesitant. “I was born and raised right on this very land- 500 years in the future.”

Indeed? How intriguing. He could scent no lie, and it explained her strange mannerisms and the clothing she wore prior to her disappearance. He regarded her now. He had never given the Miko much thought- she had always been his brother’s interfering human wench, and then she was his brother’s powerful miko. It seemed she had been worthy of closer attention.

“Hn, you are quite far from home,” he said finally. “How did you come to be here?”

“On my fifteenth birthday, a centipede youkai appeared and dragged me through the well on my family’s shrine. When I climbed out, I was here in the past.”

Ah. The well from that time after the final battle… That certainly explained some things.

“You see, the power of the Shikon no Tama awakened her, and she ended up tearing it out of my body.”

“From within you?” He gave her an appraising glance.

“Yes. I had no idea before then, but we think I was born with it inside of me, because,” she shifted, looking a bit uncomfortable, “I’m Kikyou’s reincarnation, and she died holding the jewel.”

“The undead miko.”

“Yeah, that’s why she wasn’t able to be revived properly, and always had to have her shinidamachuu gathering souls. The witch who brought her back tried to transfer my reincarnated soul to Kikyou, but I was able to call it back.”

Her lifeless body regained her very soul on her own power?

“Hn. And so you were able to pass through the well to this time.”

“Yeah. With the jewel, I could pass back and forth freely- Inuyasha, too. Of course, when he came, we would have him hide his ears with a bandana or hat.” She smiled fondly. “But when the jewel disappeared, the well was closed.”

“And yet you were able to return.”

“I’m still not sure how I was able to come back here without the jewel… I hadn’t even checked the well for a few months since I was so busy with graduating, but right afterwords I went to the well house and the well was open. I couldn’t believe it! I didn’t want to miss my chance, so I jumped. I think maybe my heart was just ready to return, and the well responded to that.”

Sesshomaru narrowed his eyes. Somehow, that didn’t sit well with him. His instincts told him there must be more to how the well opened again, and he didn’t like the implications. Their business with the jewel should be years behind them now.

The miko seemed to think his expression was directed at her, because she began hurriedly defending herself, arms fluttering about.

“I mean, I know I maybe should have put a bit more thought and preparation into it, but it felt like one of those now-or-never things, you know? I don’t know, maybe I’m foolish, but I think I would have regretted it if I hadn’t. Well, that is… Sure, I also have my regrets about doing it. But I guess this is one of those times where there is no right decision. Anyways, the well opening again had to mean something, right? Like it was my fate to come back here…” She took a breath, seeming more confident. “Either way, I made the choice, so all I can do is go forward from there.”

It seemed the Miko had found her answers for herself, so Sesshoumaru merely inclined his head.

After a moment, he asked, “How did the jewel come to be broken?”

She grimaced. “A crow youkai took it, and because of the power of the jewel, it was able to continue reforming itself after Inuyasha struck it down. It was starting to escape, flying too far away to catch, but I had the idea to attach its foot to an arrow.”

“So that it would be attracted back to the main body.” Clever.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded with a slight smile. “But it worked a little too well and the arrow went straight into the jewel, and the shards kinda exploded across the countryside.” She looked away with a self-deprecating chuckle. “So yeah this whole thing was basically my fault… That’s why I kept coming back to this time, so I could fix my mistake.”

“The strategy was sound,” he assured her, her head to shooting up as she met his gaze. “You could not have anticipated such an unlikely result. Even so, you have honor and set about to rectify the situation. You are strong, Miko. If the coward Naraku had not been so fond of his games, it should have been a simple task to regain the shards.”

“You’re right, he was a total coward. I guess there was no helping it. I’m just glad that’s all behind us,” she sighed.

“Hnn.” He looked to the trees swaying in a light evening breeze, scattering moonlight among them. He was not so sure of that.

~ ~ ~

Kagome felt much calmer now. Aside from Sesshoumaru’s stoic and calming presence, remembering her first days in the past made her realize just how far she had really come since then. It was easy to forget in these days of peace in the village. She might still have a lot to learn, but look at all that she had already been able to do! And while saving the world, to boot.

She still wasn’t so sure she had made the right decision to come back, but there was no use worrying about what might have been. She stood and dusted off her hakama.

“Thank you for listening, Sesshoumaru.”

He gave a courteous nod.

She took a few steps, but then turned back to him. “I know you’re probably out here to get away from the commotion, but we could share a drink if you’d like?” she said with a nod of her head toward the festival.

She thought he would reject her offer, but after a moment he inclined his head. “This Sesshoumaru would like to hear of your home, Miko.”

Kagome laughed internally at his grandiose manner. Always having to act above it all, even for something as simple as sharing a drink… But it made her happy to think they may be beginning to get along just a bit.

Outwardly, she smiled. “Okay, but that will probably be hard with all the noise of the festival. Why don’t I go grab us some sake and I’ll be right back?”

He sent her off with a slight flick of his chin.

Now that she was calmer, the festival looked completely different. As she strolled casually to find the sake vendor, she smiled genuinely and greeted those she saw. She still felt a bit ashamed and frustrated at her memory issues, but it was probably just a case of too many changes too quickly. I hope.

Passing through the various stalls, she saw the souvenir stand selling little Shikon no Tama charms. She started to walk past but something made her change her mind. Her smile turned a bit bittersweet. It would be nice to have one of these to remind me of Jii-chan.

Her eyes instinctively scanned for one meant for students, before she realized that they wouldn’t have them and that she had no need for one anymore anyways. Feeling strange, she glanced over the options.

She didn’t need one for protection, Inuyasha always protected her and- as she had just remembered- she wasn’t too shabby at protecting herself these days either. She also had no need for safe travels now that she lived in the village. The one for good health and protection from illness would certainly be an ironic choice. But it would also remind her of Houjou-kun, who had often bombarded her with such talismans. That boy was just too eager, she sighed to herself. She briefly eyed the charm meant to bring love, but it just felt too pathetic. She would work things out with Inuyasha on her own. Besides, if this was something she carried on her person it would be embarrassing. There was no such thing as good luck in her opinion, so that was also a pass. Ignoring the ones meant for expectant mothers and businessmen, that left just one option.

Selecting one with the word yaku-yoke on it, Kagome paid the vendor and held it up to look at a moment longer. Yes, that felt right. The original had been such a source of evil, having one meant to deflect evil was the best choice. Running her thumb over the charm, she stuck it in her sleeve and continued on to find what she had come for.

After acquiring a sake bottle and a pair of shallow dishes, Kagome spotted a stall selling dango and decided to get some of those as well. As she was ordering, a calm, familiar voice called from behind her.

“Kagome-sama, I see you’re having similar cravings to our dear Sango.”

“Miroku-sama,” she smiled. “So Sango-chan sent you to get her some, did she?”

“And of course the children want whatever Mama’s having,” he said, making a show of clutching his purse ruefully.

Laughing, Kagome patted him on the shoulder. “Such a good father! Are you enjoying the festival?”

“Of course! Why don’t you come join us?”

“Maybe in a little while,” she said, indicating the two sets of food and drink in her hands.

“Ah,” he said sagely, “off to spend some time with Inuyasha?”

“Actually, it’s strange, but Sesshoumaru and I are having a bit of a chat. I guess he’s curious about the world on the other side of the well.” It wasn’t a lie, and no one else needed to know about her little breakdown.

Miroku raised his brows, but merely said, “How interesting.”

“I’ll be sure to come hang out with you guys in a bit, okay?” She waved- or rather vaguely raised the hand holding the sake bottle- and headed back towards the forest.

She wondered what she could tell Sesshoumaru about her own time… If this were a modern victory celebration, it might be more like a fancy cocktail party, and there would be champagne instead of sake, she thought, glancing down at the bottle she carried. She wondered what champagne tasted like- she still wasn’t of age by modern standards- and now I’ll never know, she realized a bit sadly.

Shaking her head to save herself from that downward spiral, she marched herself back to where Sesshoumaru was waiting.

~ ~ ~

Sesshomaru was a bit surprised with himself for accepting the miko’s offer. Though he was decidedly curious about her home.

And it concerned him about her ability to return. Yes, that was truly worrisome. Had the foolish hanyou and the others not considered this? Perhaps they were too blind in their gladness to have her again. And perhaps a bit too content in their victory and the ensuing peace. Humans were prone to ignoring that which they did not wish to see, after all.

In any case, he may need to keep a closer eye on things here. It would not do to have Rin put in any danger. That was quite contrary to her purpose for being in the village.

Knowing the miko would be a few minutes yet, he rose and made his way leisurely over to the clearing where the well stood. There wasn’t much to be found there, however. No lingering traces of power, nor scent of any recent presence. By all appearances it was merely an unextraordinary dry old well. He leapt down into its depths, but no more information was forthcoming. With one more glance around the stony walls above him, he gave a displeased sniff and leapt out gracefully, heading back to the place the miko would be expecting him.

After several minutes he caught her scent approaching- the light sweet scent of roses and the somewhat fuller yet subtler sweetness of almond, along with the bright pine scent of her happiness. Good, that suited the miko much more than the previous bitter tang of her distress, like unripe berries.

Sitting with his back to the same tree where she had left him, he did not turn his eyes from the moon as she approached. He sensed her turn to follow his gaze, and she gave a contented sigh.

“It is so beautiful here. I’ve always loved the night sky, but back home it’s nothing compared to this. The city lights are so bright, you can only make out a few stars, really.”

“City?”

“Yep. By my time, this place is known as Tokyo, and it’s actually the capital of Japan. My family lives in a small house on a shrine near the Goshinboku and the Bone Eaters Well, but all around it are tall high-rise buildings, and a little ways downtown are enormous skyscrapers that tower into the sky- the tallest one has 70 stories!”

Surprised, he turned his attention to her. Humans had changed little in the centuries he had been alive; would they truly change so much in the few hundred years from now? “What is the purpose of such buildings?”

“Well, there’s a lot of people… more than ten million I think, living in the city. And several times that in the area surrounding it. So to make space for all the homes and businesses, they kind of had to go upwards,” she said, pointing her finger up.

That many humans in one place? He tried to imagine it. “And you climb up all of these many stories?”

She laughed softly, “Well, some people do, but mostly we use things called elevators, which are like carts that go up and down using a pulley system.”

He could see the logic in such a system. Clever.

She moved to sit near him then, setting down what she was holding and offering him a sake dish. He took it with a small incline of his head, and she filled it with sake. He filled hers in turn, and she smiled before taking a sip. Long fingers brought his own cup to his lips, and he turned to look at the sky once more.

From the corner of his eye he saw her pick up one of the sticks of dango she had brought, then she settled a bit more comfortably before speaking again. “We had all kinds of machines that do all kinds of different things. It’s really convenient and a lot are pretty cool, too. Like cars and trains- vehicles that take us around the city quickly- and planes which we use to fly anywhere in the world.”

Another surprise. Humans achieving flight. Simply incredible.

“And we’ve even been to the moon, you know,” she said gleefully.

His eyes widened and he turned to look at her again.

Her smile grew. “Yep! There’s these rockets that blast out so much power that they’re able to leave the atmosphere completely and go to space! The people who ride them, astronauts, have these special suits with canisters of air so that they can breathe and stuff.”

He gazed at the moon. He had tried to reach it once, when he was younger. He had wanted to see just how high he could go, but the air thinned so much that his youki was too unstable to propel himself further and he was unable to continue. So humans will achieve what I could not…

With a sniff, he asked, “And what of yourself, Miko? What did you do in this future of yours?”

“Well, I was still a student.”

“At your age you still had not proceeded beyond apprenticeship?” He knew the miko to be intelligent and capable, so this came as a surprise to him.

“Ah, no. Where I come from, I’m actually not considered an adult yet- not till I’m twenty years old. I wouldn’t even be able to drink this sake back home,” she said with a laugh.

“What were you in training for?”

“I had just completed high school before I came back here, that’s just general classes that everyone takes. And then I would have gone on to university where I would have chosen a career path, and depending on what that was I could have gone on to do that in a few years, or else taken several more years of schooling.”

“Your people are quite educated then,” he said, impressed.

“Yep,” she gave a proud smile. “Inuyasha and the others never really understood why I had to work so hard. He always complained when I brought out my textbooks to study while we were searching for the shards. But just because some stupid spider was being a jerk didn’t mean I could fail my classes.”

She had worked on her studies even then? “Your dedication is truly admirable.”

Her eyes lit up. “THANK you! Geez, everyone else always acted like I was crazy.” She wilted a bit. “Well, maybe I was, since I ended up coming to live back here anyways…”

“No, Miko. Bettering oneself is always a worthy endeavor.”

She blinked in surprise, then smiled warmly at him. “Thank you, Sesshoumaru.”

He gave a nod, and turned back to the sky again. The pair sat in companionable silence for a while. They continued filling their cups, and he caught the gentle maple leaf scent of her contentment bubbling up.

~ ~ ~

As they sat enjoying the sake and the sparkling stars, Kagome felt a surge of gladness. After all the anxiety of the day and all the build up of negative emotions, she never would have expected to end up having such a pleasant time, and especially not with Sesshoumaru of all people.

Glancing up at him, she wondered what he was thinking. He was always so reserved it almost seemed like he didn’t feel anything at all, but then there were rare times like tonight… He had still been reserved, but he had shown some concern for her and helped her through her distress. And now he was sharing a drink with her, and had even praised her.

Honestly, it was damn nice to have someone actually appreciate not just the hard work she had done, but also why she had done it. After weeks of nothing but major culture gaps, this one bit of understanding was an innate connection she had been missing.

As she took in the sight of his striking moonlit face, a pleasant warmth spread through her, and she put it down to the sake starting to take effect.

After a few minutes of peaceful silence between them, Kagome noticed the sounds of the festival music picking up. This would probably be the height of the night’s festivities, and before long it would all be winding down.

Stretching her arms out in front of her before returning them to her lap, she let out a happy sigh. “I told the others that I’d meet up with them, so I should probably get back there. This was... nice. Thank you, Sesshoumaru. I guess I didn’t end up telling you all that much about my time though, did I?” She hesitated a moment. “If you want, I could tell you more some other time?”

He inclined his head to her before looking back to the sky. “Go see to your friends, Miko.”

She flushed a bit- was it from happiness or embarrassment? Perhaps both. Or maybe it was just the sake.

Picking up the now empty sake decanter and cups, she left Sesshoumaru to his stargazing and made her way back towards the village. She deposited the items with the sake vendor, and set out in search of her friends.

When she reached the space set aside for dancing, Sango called out to her from across the field. With a wave, Kagome made her way over to where her friend was sitting, and joined her in watching her children. The twins were among the crowd of dancers along with Shippou, Rin, and Kohaku, trying to keep up with the bigger kids’ moves.

Kagome clasped her hands over her heart. “They are so precious!”

“Just like their mother,” Miroku said, as he and Inuyasha joined them.

“Keh! At least they aren’t pulling on my ears.” Inuyasha huffed and folded his arms into his sleeves.

Kagome laughed and rolled her eyes, shaking her head at him affectionately.

Miroku, with baby Mori cradled to his shoulder, moved to stand behind his wife, casually placing a hand on her back. Inuyasha remained a ways away, leaving the trio between himself and Kagome, looking away with a slightly uncomfortable expression.

Kagome pressed her lips together and went back to observing the crowd. It can’t be helped- I’ve only been back in the Sengoku Jidai for a short time after all. It’s only natural there’s some difficulty in resuming our relationship. I just have to give it time, right?

She wished he’d be a bit more grown-up about it, though. Why does he have to get all defensive? It seems like every time I try to talk to him about it, things end up even worse than before.

He had always been a bit prickly and had a hard time being open with his feelings, but had it really been this bad? She sighed. She’d just have to wait for him to come to her. It was starting to get tiring though.

“I remember dancing like this during celebrations back home,” Sango said with a fond, bittersweet smile.

Kagome turned her attention back to her friend. “Really? That must have been a lot of fun. Why aren’t you out there dancing too?”

“I’m surprised you aren’t, Kagome-chan.”

“Ah, well I was but… I really don’t know these dances.”

“Oh, of course.” Sango offered an apologetic smile.

After a moment, Kagome made up her mind. She looked over to her friend with a determined grin. “Will you teach me, Sango-chan?

“Eh? Me?”

“Yeah! Come on, let’s go dance!” She took Sango’s arm and led her away from their seats.

“Have fun, ladies!” Miroku called after them, waving little Mori’s arm.

They joined up with the children, and soon they were laughing and dancing and teasing each other. All her worries were temporarily forgotten. Looking into each of her companions’ smiling faces, Kagome felt so glad to be right where she was. Especially on such an occasion where everyone was together again. She’d only been back a few weeks, and since Shippou was busy with kitsune school and Kohaku was off doing his taijiya duties, she’d hardly seen either of them. Even Jaken was there, clearly bullied by Rin into dancing with them. He was squawking and making a fuss, but she could tell he was happy to be included. She smiled fondly at Kohaku, and then she grabbed Shippou into a crushing hug, suddenly overcome with feeling.

“Wah! Kagome! ” he laughed.

“I missed you, kiddo,” she beamed down at him, ruffling his hair.

He made a show of fixing his hair, but beamed right back up at her. “I missed you too, Kagome. I’m so happy you’re back. Sorry I’m gone all the time, and you have to deal with stupid Inuyasha,” he stuck out his tongue.

It was so funny how Shippou acted like he disliked Inuyasha, though she knew he really loved him and looked up to him. She suddenly thought of Souta. He idolized Inuyasha so much as a kid- No. She was not going to be sad right now. This was the time to be happy with her friends.

She poked Shippou’s cheek with a silly smile. “It’s okay, you’re off making me proud at Kitsune school.”

She wondered how Souta was doing in school- No! She shook her head, and as a new song started up, she jumped back into dancing.

Kohaku was currently impressing Rin with some moves he’d picked up on his travels. Apparently the dance was becoming quite popular in some of the big towns. Humans really never change, do they? Kagome smiled to herself, joining the others in trying to learn this new dance.

She was actually starting to get the hang of some of these dance moves, and as she got into the groove, she was caught up in the euphoria of her wonderful company and pumping blood. But at the height of her excitement, just as she was doing a little twirl, she stopped dead. For the briefest of moments she had suddenly felt that long-forgotten and all-too-familiar pull of the Shikon no Tama. She stretched out her awareness, but could feel nothing.

“Are you okay, Kagome-sama?”

Blinking, Kagome looked down into the concerned face of Rin. “Ah, yes, it’s nothing,” she assured her, smiling. Great, am I imagining things now?

The rest of her friends had also stopped dancing and looked at her with concern. “Don’t worry, I just got a little dizzy for a second. I’m fine, really.” To prove her point, she took Rin’s hands and began guiding her back into dancing again. Letting go, she continued her own dance, subtly checking to see that the others had gone back to dancing too. Breathing an internal sigh of relief, she tried to get back into the spirit of things herself.

This was all she needed on top of everything else. Memory problems, being jumpy and panicking over nothing, constant worry and sadness about her home, and now paranoia and imagining things that weren’t there?

No, she was probably just tipsy, and all that spinning and moving around had jumbled her senses, that’s all. And her nerves had already been frazzled this evening. It was so brief that now she wasn’t even sure she had felt it to begin with. And if she had felt something, well, she had been in the modern era away from any kind of magic for so long, she probably wouldn’t actually recognize the feeling of the jewel if she truly felt it. It could have been anything, really.

She cursed her traitorous mind for the zillionth time that night, and firmly set aside all thought on the matter.

~ ~ ~

After the Miko left, Sesshoumaru stayed a while gazing at the moon. He glanced down at the remaining stick of dango. She had clearly left it there for him inconspicuously. It would be a shame for it to go to waste. Picking it up gingerly, he took a bite of the sticky treat and thought on his unexpected encounter that evening.

He had learned much more about the miko than he had ever thought to. He supposed he should have realized how unique she was from the start. If he admitted it to himself, she had caught his attention during that very first meeting. How had a human survived his Dokkasou? At the time, he attributed it merely to Tessaiga’s power, re-categorizing her in his mind as an ordinary human, to his dissatisfaction. But over time she had grudgingly won his respect with her power and daring- not least of which against himself. She displayed true honor and loyalty as well.

Beyond that, he had never given her much thought, however.

Yet he now knew her to be a child of the future, educated beyond perhaps even his own level of schooling, diligent and determined. And not only possessing of her own great power, but born with that accursed jewel of power within her very body. One did not often meet creatures such as she.

When he found her earlier that night, he had been perturbed. Such a distressed state did not suit the woman. It was strange, but he found he was glad to have contributed to her improved mood.

He wanted to know more about this future of hers. He was a curious being, after all. And her company wasn’t unpleasant. In fact, she was much like Rin in her expressive antics and ability to read him without much input on his part. Yes, he believed he would be seeking out her company once more. He needed to spend more time around the village at any rate, to ensure no issue came of that well.

As he thought, he found himself wandering back towards the festival grounds. The miko was among her friends, laughing and dancing. Rin seemed to be enjoying herself as well, he noted with approval as she briefly met his eye.

He marveled at the miko’s joyful demeanor. She was truly resilient to overcome her episode of distress to already be in such high spirits. He noticed when she stopped for a moment, seeming disturbed once more, but she quickly recovered and went back to her revelry. It seemed she was not truly past those feelings, then. Yet she was doing her best not to allow them to hamper her again.

You will find your place here, Miko. If his experience with her was anything to go by, she would in fact make her own place with little problem. She was never shy to insert herself into situations which she had nothing to do with, and were even a danger to her. Making a life for herself in the village was a simple matter.

Though perhaps not with Inuyasha, he mused. The festivities were dying down and the crowd was dispersing, and the two had come together, but did not seem to be connecting well. There was indeed a sort of barrier between them as she had indicated.

Hn. It matters not to This Sesshoumaru. The time had come for him to collect his vassal and bid farewell to his ward.

~ ~ ~

The music came to an end as Kagome panted and clutched her side. “I haven’t danced so much in a long time! Thanks for teaching us Kohaku-kun, you're a great dancer!”

He smiled bashfully and cast a glance to Shippou and Rin. “I don’t know about that, Kagome-sama. But tonight was a lot of fun.”

“Hey, I wonder if there’s any more dango left?” Shippou piped up, herding Rin and Kohaku towards the stalls where the vendors were beginning to clean up, Jaken squawking after them. “Come on, let’s go guys! See you at Kaede-obaba’s, Kagome!” he called over his shoulder.

Sango put her hands on her hips and looked down at Izumi and Megumi. “Alright, it’s time for bed, you two! Say goodnight.”

“Aw, Mamma….” the girls pouted.

“But we wanna stay with Auntie Kagome!” Megumi pleaded.

“Please!” Izumi joined in.

Kagome squatted down and booped them each on the nose. “Listen to your mama, you two. We can play more tomorrow, if you want.”

“Okay…” They slumped their little shoulders. “Goodnight,” they said in unison.

“See you tomorrow, Kagome-chan.” Sango took the twins by the hand and joined her husband.

They both reached up their little hands to Miroku. “Up, Daddy, up!”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed. “Goodnight, Kagome-sama,” Miroku called as he handed the baby to his wife and lifted up the two bigger children to carry them home.

“Goodnight!” Kagome smiled at the sweet scene. She was so happy that her friends had gotten together and were able to have their happy family after everything they had been through. And she was able to be here to be a part of it. As much as she missed her home, she wouldn’t miss this for the world. She only hoped she and Inuyasha would soon do the same.

She glanced over and saw him still standing where she had left him and Miroku earlier. His ear twitched as he noticed her attention on him. She smiled and made her way over to him.

“Phew! I’m beat!” she sighed, wiping her brow.

His mouth quirked up into that cocky smile of his she loved so much. “What did you expect with all that weird waving around you were doing?”

“It wasn’t weird!” she mock-pouted, clenching her fists. “We were having fun, and it is the very latest trend, I’ll have you know,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

“That was? You humans are always coming up with weird stuff, aren’t you?” he scratched his cheek. “I can see why everything in your time is so crazy.”

Her eyes flashed with pain for an instant, before she again distanced herself from thoughts of her home.

He seemed to notice however, and his face got serious again. “You know, Kagome, you can go back.”

“No! Why would you say that, Inuyasha? You know I want to be here. With you. With everyone. We don’t even know if the well will take me home, but without the jewel I won’t risk not being able to come back here again.” She looked seriously into his eyes. “I made my decision a long time ago, you know that.” She reached out to hold his hand, but he shifted away from her.

“I know, Kagome, I just want you to be happy.” He folded his arms into his sleeves again.

The sting of rejection was building up within her again, but she refused to allow it to overcome her. Biting her lip, she ventured, “Y’know the kids were saying there might still be some dango left. Wanna go-“

“That stuff is all mushy and always gets stuck in my teeth,” he said, sticking out his tongue. “Those brats probably already got any that was left anyways.”

She resisted the urge to chastise him for calling the kids ‘brats.’ “We could go for a little stroll maybe? The moon is nice tonight. I haven’t seen you much these past few days.” A light breeze picked up, and she rubbed her arms.

His ear twitched again. “It’s the moon, the same as any other night. You should just go back to the village.”

“Okay…” If he didn’t want to hang out, there was nothing she could do. Rubbing her arms again to relieve the chill that had started to set in, she hesitated another moment. Thinking of nothing else to say, she finally bit out, “Well, goodnight.” Turning to walk away, she winced at herself. That had sounded dejected even to her ears.

It was fine. He had been off fighting youkai with Miroku-sama for most of the week, and then immediately helped with the festival as soon as he got back. He was probably just tired. He didn’t have to hang out with her all the time. She wasn’t so insecure as that.

So why did her heart hurt so much?

She paused to breathe in some fresh air, looking up to the sky for comfort. The image blurred, and she looked away, wiping her eyes with her sleeve. Stupid moon. Stupid Inuyasha… Stupid Kagome.

She took another deep breath and patted her cheeks. What she needed to do was just go back to the hut, where she knew Kaede-baachan would already be preparing some soothing tea before bed, cuddle up in the futon with her two favorite kiddos, and get some sleep. She gave a weak smile. She was so happy to have Shippou-chan back for a few days. And it was nice sharing a hut with Kaede-baachan and Rin-chan since she had been back in the Sengoku Jidai. Even if things weren’t going exactly the way she had hoped, she was still glad to be here with everyone.

With another soft glance at the moon, she took a last fortifying breath and set off towards the hut.

~ ~ ~

Sesshoumaru found his vassal and ward with the young taijiya and kit, haranguing the dango seller for scraps as the man was packing up his things.

“Rin.”

The girl brightened and rushed over to him, stopping before him in that sudden manner of hers just a few feet away.

“Did you not have your fill of sweets earlier this evening?”

She had the grace to look guilty. “Yes, Sesshoumaru-sama.”

[Cont. here]

[unlockthelore]

Willful Promises

Chapter 1 of 3 for Love Language on Ao3. 

Part 5 of the Guns and Roses series. For more updates, follow the guns and roses tag on this blog.

For this specific fic, follow love language on this blog.

Since the return to Sarayashiki following the Dark Tournament, slipping back into the role of Minamino Shuuichi was Kurama’s foremost priority. Maintaining his cover was imperative to keeping his place in the Ningenkai but also avoiding worrying his mother.

He tried to limit his “jumpiness” as Kuwabara put it, though he couldn’t help eyeing the doors and windows, ensuring that his home was adequately protected against any demons hoping to challenge him. After finding Roto knew of his mother and where he lived, he could only assume that other demons were given that information as well.

Hiei took the opportunity to hone his skills on any of the challengers who stepped forward but Kurama guarded Shiori up close. If that meant walking her home from work and lingering at home when he yearned for the open air, then so be it. No harm would come to her and he did have his garden to supplicate the need for the other. A taste of his former self had reminded him of the best parts of his old life and the worst.

While logic told him that it was necessary to secure a victory and their continued survival, he couldn’t help but wonder. What did they all think of him? Did they hear the stories that others whispered in their surroundings of what he was? The crimes he committed?

Thoughts such as that consumed him even during his waking moments, imagining their admiring faces and genial smiles twisting into disgust.

Hiei would understand, surely — but Kuwabara was human, there were certain things beyond his comprehension, and his heart was far too good to level to Kurama’s previous way of thinking.

Atsuko and Shizuru were acclimating to the existence of demons and the other world remarkably well. And Keiko was extremely resilient, but he couldn’t imagine the look she’d have if she knew everything.

Botan was aware but to what extent had the Reikai given her information, and what had they left out? Kurama doubted that even they knew of all he’d committed in an act of escaping boredom.

Genkai was less likely to care. It was in the way she regarded him, silent with a bit of apprehension dissipating as if she gathered it was easier to disregard the past than dwell in it. After finding her connection with Toguro, he could understand why.

Then there was Yuusuke.

Yuusuke had been the one to listen to his story without judgement, risking his second chance at life to save Shiori’s, and refusing to kill Hiei despite the fire demon’s slight against those precious to the fledging detective. Not only that but he nearly acted out of anger, almost shooting Bakken when he apparently continued to assault Kurama’s person when he was unconscious. Hiei seemed to take great pride in the detective’s reaction, and Kurama could tell that it endeared Yuusuke to him a bit more.

And left quite an impression on Kurama himself.

Though he couldn’t help but wonder. Yuusuke accepted what he told him but that wasn’t all. He didn’t know everything that Kurama had done. Children he’d left parentless, and parents he left grieving, treasures stolen, hearts broken, a number of things all to sate this need to fill the void he’d been living in.

A void that steadily closed with the appearance of people who were willing to stand beside him. Someone who could see the best in him despite not knowing everything.

He wasn’t sure if he’d be able to take seeing Yuusuke look at him with contempt. No, he could stomach it but that didn’t mean he had to like it.

“Shuuichi, is everything alright?” Shiori’s quiet voice interrupted the slough of thoughts threatening to drag Kurama further into his mind. He jerked his head upright, remembering where he was across the table from her, his breakfast untouched while her own smaller portions were almost gone. “You’ve been a bit…”

She struggles for the word but so does he. There’s nothing that he can say that will likely appease her worry. Shiori is far too perceptive for her own good and he always did hate lying to her at least about the small things that he knew she’d forgive. Her lips parted but the soft chime of the doorbell interrupted her. Slowly, he moved to rise to his feet but she held out her hand, getting to her own.

“I’ll get it, Shuuichi. Try to eat some of your food, okay?” With a warm smile, she turned and headed to the door with a call that she was coming.

Kurama sighing and glancing down at his food though his ears were trained on the conversation at the doorway. His mother exchanging kind words and soft awe-filled gasps, the smell of something unknown entering their home mingled with her own scent as the door closed and she walked back to the kitchen. Looking up from his own food after taking few bites, Kurama’s eyes widened at the array of flowers tied off with a red bow. He knew these flowers well, their blooms fully opened — reddened with a golden-yellow center.

“It looks to me that you have a secret admirer,” Shiori said, a touch of hope to her words as he walked over to her, taking the bouquet into own arms.

The flowers carried a heavenly scent and he glanced over the bouquet for a sign. For someone to give him flowers as a warning would only result in retaliation. Nature bent to his will, not the other way around, but this seemed more like a peace offering. A gift. And while part of him had enough of the gifts given by his “fans” during the Dark Tournament, it was an interesting gesture. Quite the difference in approach instead of giving him gifts and trinkets.

“Was there not a note with them?” He asked, running his finger against the blooms and delighting in how they quivered and pressed closer.

Shiori hummed distractedly as she searched through the bouquet, pulling out a white rectangular card, her gaze flicking over it. Kurama tilted his head as he watched a smile form on her lips and her eyes light up with mischief, handing the card to him.

“Actually, yes.”

Kurama arched a brow, taking the card between his fingers and bringing it close to read as he shifted the bouquet to the crook of his arms. There wasn’t any printed lettering or a blank message but a familiar slanted hastily written scrawl.

I promise that I’ll always have your back. — Y.U.

Kurama’s smile widened as he read it, looking over the note once and then twice. Y.U. If anything, he had to give him points for attempting to hide his identity. Subtlety was never his strong suit but as Kurama glanced at the flowers, he had to admit that Yuusuke could stand to surprise him. Opening his mouth to ask Shiori if he could be excused, she waved her hand slightly, ushering him out of the kitchen.

“I’ll heat your food for you to eat in your room, go on.”

He nodded sheepishly, pressing a light kiss to her cheek before heading upstairs. In the comfort of his room, Kurama allowed himself to smile and a number of thoughts raced through his mind. How did Yuusuke plan this and did he know what these particular flowers meant?

Kurama’s first instinct was to make a plan of attack on how to ask but he grabbed his phone from his bedside table, disconnecting the charger and flicking through his ever-growing list of contacts for Yuusuke’s. The bouquet finding home in a proper vase for the time being, his fingers running over their blooms as he waited for the call to connect.

After two rings, the call connected.

“Yeah?” Yuusuke answered, his voice rough and laden with sleep, a soft rumble that went to Kurama’s core. He remembered hearing that voice on some early mornings where Yuusuke would sleep in his bed. An arrangement made between Botan and the other girls, allowing him to sleep in Keiko’s with her until a certain time before he was ushered out to his and Kuwabara’s room.

At times, they would stay up until the early hours playing video games to try and rid their minds of the threat of death looming. Kurama would watch them with bleary eyes until Kuwabara passed out and Yuusuke would nudge his shoulder, nodding toward the door leading to Kurama’s room shared with Hiei.

The fire demon wasn’t there, another night where he struggled with the Dragon’s taming and was lost to the forest surrounding the hotel. Yuusuke occupying a place next to him and muttering softly against Kurama’s chest. Somehow waking up even more tangled with him than he’d been before.

Kurama smiled warmly at the memory, wandering from his desk to the side of his bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Somewhere between like shit and like hell..” Yuusuke chuckled weakly, the light click of a lighter telling of what he was up to. Kurama rolled his eyes as he laid back on his bed, hair fanned out against his comforter. It was a comfort and smelt like the detergent Shiori used to wash their linens.

Much different than the mixture that the hotel staff used on the island and he was happy to bury his face against his pillow as he listened to the crackling of Yuusuke’s cigarette and the deep exhale as he took a drag.

“You?”

Kurama nestled his cheek against his pillow and closed his eyes, content to lose himself in the husky sound of Yuusuke’s voice. “Better now..”

“Oh yeah?” Yuusuke seemed more attentive now and Kurama smiled to himself. That’s what he liked about him most. How reactive he was, genuinely involved when his attention was present. It was nice being the center of someone’s affection genuinely rather than facetiously.

“Someone left me a gift and it did help my mood,” Kurama opened his eyes slightly to see the morning glories and the sunlight catching on their red blooms.

“A gift, huh?” Another drag along with the muffled whisper of his exhale across the receiver. “Well don’t leave me in suspense, what was it?”

To Yuusuke’s credit, he didn’t slip up in his effort to remain stealthy.

“Flowers. Morning-glories to be exact..” Kurama shifted to lie on his back with the back of his hand resting over his eyes, heels dragging across the comforter as he made himself comfortable, smiling faintly. A fluttering in his stomach as he heard Yuusuke hum, practically envisioning the smile on his face. “They have an interesting meaning if you want to hear it.”

Yuusuke laughed again, this time quieter and his voice smoky as he muttered lowly. “Sure.”

“Willful promises…” Kurama’s voice trailed off when he heard the slight hitch in Yuusuke’s voice. Plucking the card from his nightstand, he lifted it to the air and turned it once way then the other. The dried ink and the scrawl etched into his memory. “The card was interesting as well.. I think I’ll keep it.”

For a moment Yuusuke said nothing and Kurama almost thought to call him out on the gift itself. Perhaps it was too soon to be playing these games, with what they were, he could understand how that would be so. But Yuusuke’s voice came through, quieter than it’d been before, and a touchy shy.

“You really liked it that much?”

Kurama’s eyes softened and the urge to seek out the detective, pull him into his arms and hug him close was only suppressed by the knowledge that Yuusuke was waiting for an answer now. He wasn’t fragile by any means but his emotions were delicate in a way. He felt strongly about what he was passionate about and when he put his mind to it, he could be quite thoughtful. Though that thoughtfulness ran the risk of rejection, and Yuusuke toed that line carefully.

Weighing his words carefully, Kurama brushed his fingers along his hair, tucking a lock behind his ear. “Is it that surprising?” He asked, somewhat surprised by the softness to his own tone and the hint of vulnerability.

“Flowers are kinda your thing, doubted they’d surprise you all that much…”

There’s something unspoken in those words and Kurama’s hard pressed not to seek him out now.

“They came from you,” Kurama emphasized, trying to press as much meaning in those words as he could. “They’re more special to me than I could tell you…”

They both need their rest and Kurama didn’t want to leave Shiori on her own so soon with the threat of something lurking near by but Yuusuke was a man of action rather than words. Although he could make the inspiring speech when given the right motivation. And Kurama was more than happy to show him how much he liked the gift and how much he meant to him.

“Card gave me away?” Yusuuke finally said after a moment of silence, chuckling sheepishly.

“That among a few other things…” Kurama admitted, smiling to himself as he listened to that laughter. His gaze flicking to the group photo on his nightstand. All of them together, smiling at the camera, happy that they survived and on their way home. “Thank you Yuusuke, this means a lot to me.”

Kurama’s eyes drifted shut and he felt that he could breathe a bit easier.

“Anytime, fox boy…”

[mysticandskepticmuses]

APPEARANCE

Eyes: His eyes are a tawny brown, though the specific shade tends to alter just slightly given his mood, shifting between a paler tan to a darker, stormier mahogany. His eyes are sometimes the most expressive feature of his face, coupled with the thick eyebrows that square off over them.

Hair: Logan’s hair is dark; a mahogany hue with shades of a darker almost black mingled within. It is most often kept parted down the middle, and swept up and back, curling in on itself somewhat in a practiced unkempt look that does, ironically or no, resemble slightly the mane and fur tufts of his code name’s namesake. Even if not styled, it has a natural curl to it, and is somewhat unruly. He is also somewhat known for his sideburns that creep along his jaw, and are thick, and squared off.

Height: Perhaps shorter than one might initially recall, Logan stands at only five feet and nine inches. His build is stocky, however, and weighs a touch over two hundred pounds.

Body: He is a little on the stocky side, more bulk than lean, especially given his ‘petite’ frame (though his height probably not something anyone would opt to comment on to his face at least). His face is definitely boxy in shape and frame, and in general he is rather furry.

Other distinguishing features: He has practically nothing in the way of scars, as his regenerative abilities heal any wounds.

Wardrobe: Given the high destruction rate of his attire, he opts for the casual. Jeans and a white wife-beater are a particularly common sight, with combat or hiking boots, and usually a leather jacket of some sort or another as the material tends to last longer than others. Occasionally, he might wear a long sleeved flannel with the sleeves rolled up, most often left unbuttoned and untucked, and for a particularly nice occasion, he might button and tuck, respectively.

Face Claim: Hugh Jackman

PERSONALITY

OVERALL :: There are many terms that might be used at a whim to describe Logan, and many of them would not be considered appropriate for children’s ears, but if there is anything that almost anyone that’s ever met him could agree upon, it’s that he’s one stubborn son of a bitch. It is almost impossible to sway him from his perspective once he’s made up his mind, but it’s happened on the rare occasion. He tends to keep himself rather withdrawn from those around him, having found in the long run that it was easier for himself that way, if a lot more lonely in the end. Still, when it comes down to it, he has a sense of morality that does not allow him to just walk away when someone’s really in trouble, and if one ever actually reaches the status of friend, or loved one, there is little to nothing that he wouldn’t do for them.. and there is no end to the lengths that he would go to for revenge for the ones he’s loved – and he has proved this time and time again with Victor and sticking by him regardless of the shit the two of them get dragged into.

– Quiet; Logan doesn’t believe in using ten words, when one would do, and is not above using silent forms of communication to get his point across. He isn’t one to debate, though arguing is something he’s not above when it comes to getting his way or his point across. Still, as often as not, he’d just as soon do what needs to be done rather than sitting around and jawing about it all day.

– Stubborn; What he might at times call being strong-willed, or resolute, is really just plain stubbornness. There isn’t much of any other way to describe it. He doesn’t often change his mind, and from those that have tried it’s often described as something akin to the water versus mountain scenario. Or talking to a wall.

– Morality; The truth of the matter is, whether Logan cares to admit it or not (and he won’t), he’s not as much the monster that he thinks he is, though that is not to say he’s warm and cuddly either. He does bite, and he has no qualms about killing when he has to. But he doesn’t like watching people get hurt that don’t deserve it, and in the end he can’t, or won’t, stand by and watch. He might, on the circumstances, just leave… but with the latest of associates to affect his actions he’s more likely to actively interfere.

– Cranky; He’s quick to go from happy to mad, from sad to mad, from confused to mad, from asleep to mad… pretty much anything to cranky is a pretty easy and guaranteed conclusion. Still, he has a sense of humor that keeps him entertained, even if at other people’s expense at times, but more often than not his humor would be considered a very private joke… like… just his.

Likes:

Creature comforts :: While Logan has learned to get by with little, he does enjoy the creature comforts of life; good food, good booze, good cigars, comfortable clothes, semi clean sheets, a hot shower… relative privacy, these are things he can appreciate.

Tracking :: Part of the hunt, he enjoys tracking for the sake of it, following his prey with his heightened senses, and he finds it good training as well to ensure that he can find who it is he needs to when the time comes.

Good looking women :: Brunettes, blonds, redheads… there’s really not many of them that he can’t find something to like about, but the particularly attractive ones generally garner a second look… or third… he is only a man, after all…

Freedom :: Logan dislikes the feeling of being confined or controlled, be it physically restrained or pinned, or being ordered around and told what to do. It simply grates against his nature, and direct opposition isn’t often the way to get him to do anything.

Fighting :: There is an animalistic side of his nature that he cannot ever really hide, as much as he might wish he could at times, and there is something about a really good knock down drag out fight that just gets the blood flowing like nothing else.

Dislikes:

Being crowded :: Something akin to claustrophobia perhaps, though mostly only in regards to being around a lot of people, something that Logan’s not overly comfortable with. More people equal more possible threats, or possible human shields for the other guys.

Sleeping :: While it might be one of the things even he needs, that doesn’t mean he has to like it, and he certainly doesn’t like the nightmares that it brings with it. If he had his way he’d just as soon not sleep ever again.

Being controlled :: Logan decides what Logan does. Anyone that thinks they can manipulate, control, blackmail, or order him around has got another thing coming and he will go to extremes to prove that point when he feels particularly affronted.

Lack of vices :: Particularly, a lack of cigars and beer at hand.

Victor ;; While it is true that he cares about his brother and would die for him if it came to that, there are times the older male grates on Logan’s last nerve, particularly when Victor’s increasing desire for bloodshed and rash behavior ends up getting Logan shot.

Habits:

Smoking ;; One of the few ‘luxuries’ he’ll spend money on or go out of his way to get. He’s almost always got a cigar in hand, in his mouth, or at the very least in a pocket.

Drinking :: A fan of beer, and a fan of whiskey, he somehow just feels more at ease with a glass or a bottle in his hand, despite the fact that it takes more than he could really drink in one go to get him actually drunk.

Fighting :: It’s in his nature, and he’s got a bad habit of picking them even when he should just let things go. That, sadly, is not in his nature…

Luck :: Bad luck, that is. Logan has a habit of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or at least that’s how he’d put it, though others might say he was there just at the right time. For them.

MUTATION CLASS: Regeneration, heightened senses, superhuman strength, etc, and claws.

MUTATION STRENGTH:

Regenerative healing factor :: By the time he reached adulthood his capacity to regenerate from near or fatal wounds was rapid enough that even a bullet to the head would prove to take only minutes to recover from. Adding to that the fact that his bones themselves are unbreakable, which protects his nervous system, brain matter, and some of his vital organs, it is practically impossible to keep him down for any length of time; even sedatives tend not to last long as his system and metabolic rate is superhuman.

Heightened Senses :: Like his namesake, he has enhanced senses; particularly olfactory and auditory. He can hear across extraordinary distances and is able to determine location of people or creatures based on scent when others would not. This often gives him just that extra edge necessary in a combat situation, especially when any attempt at subterfuge is being used against him.

Superhuman strength, stamina, agility and reflexes :: If it was not for the combination of his regenerative abilities, and his superhuman strength, stamina, and agility, there would have been no way for him to have survived, much less carried and adjusted to the additional weight of the adamantium treatment he underwent. His true physical prowess is a result of not only his mutation, but of a history of training, of fighting, and exerting himself to the extremes when he can. He moves much as his namesake, capable of inhuman bounds and leaps, crossing seemingly impossible distances with a single jump or climbing up surfaces that would otherwise be insurmountable.

Delayed aging :: An affectation of his regeneratiive healing ability, his body is almost entirely in a state of stasis. He shows no sign of his hundred or more years of age, having seemed to stop aging at the prime of his adulthood. Perhaps, if he lived long enough, the barely perceptible increments of aging might begin to make themselves known.

Adamantium-bonded skeleton :: The result of an experiment that he underwent at the hands of Stryker after he believed that he would need the additional armament and impervious in order to defeat his half-brother for the supposed death of his love, the experiment is one that he volunteered for, though he still does not remember the how, or why at the current point in the timeline. Combined with his regenerative abilities, and his strength, the internal armor makes him practically immortal.

Claws :: Logan has a set of three claws on each hand that extend from between the four knuckles on either hand. After the procedure performed on him by Stryker, the claws that emerge are more blades than claw shaped, razor sharp and curving slightly inwards towards his hands. The once bone claws are now, as all the rest of the adamantium coated bones in his form, indestructible. He has the ability to extend or retract his claws at will, and can even operate them individually, as he often proves by giving the proverbial bird with an adamantium claw. There is no material, except for adamantium itself that can withstand the damage from his claws, be it piercing or slashing damage there is very little that has a chance to remain impervious to his strike if he connects.

MUTATION WEAKNESS:

Though most probably would not see it as such, to Logan one of the major flaws of his abilities is the fact that he does not age, or if he does it’s as such an imperceptible rate that he can not see the difference when he looks at his own reflection. It is probable that that stems from the fact that he does not remember any of his life before his escape from Stryker’s facility, and without knowing how old he truly is, where he came from, his name, there is no way for him to learn who he really is, and what his life has been, who he has known, and where he has been, and what kind of person he was before.

The search for his past, which has remained a mystery even in spite of recent events including his run ins with Stryker, has been a driving goal of his for all of the life that he can in fact, recall, and this is something that others have attempted to use against him in the past, and might do so again. Even still, his longevity .. and possible immortality have made it all the harder for him to come to any sort of attachments in his life.

In the long term scheme of things, it is something that he has had to force himself to come to terms in in regards to his personal relationships with those around him. It is a guarantee that he will outlive ninety nine percent of the people that he knows, or will ever care about, and it is that knowledge that often keeps him closed off from those around him in an attempt to keep himself from suffering the pain of their loss later in his life. He has seen lovers die, perhaps even for their tie to him, and his ability to outlive and outlast even the end of the world weighs heavily on his shoulders. He doesn’t want to always be the last man standing, and he worried that when it comes to it, he will be.

On a more commonly acknowledged scale of drawbacks to his powers, however… the one that has proven particularly irksome for him is the fact that he is, in fact, entirely coated in metal. That makes travel through conventional means either impossible, or extraordinarily complicated, and is a weakness that Magneto has used against him on multiple occasions. The additional weight of the metal in his body, while not a problem to him, causes technical issues at times, as well; he wears through suspension on motorcycles and cars at an incredible rate.

He also finds there are times when his strength gets away from him. When his temper flares, or if he loses control of himself, or even upon waking from his sleep, it is not rare for him to find the bed collapsed beneath his weight in the tossing and turning (when not in the Institute, whose beds are made for such things), or to find headboards snapped of scarred by his claws, or tables that creak and snap beneath his hands when he isn’t paying attention.

His regenerative ability also has the drawback that things such as medications or even alcohol have no lasting effect on him, making it close to impossible to keep him sedated for any examinations or travels, or even something that could be taken for nausea ineffective, and make it near impossible for him to ever get truly intoxicated – though that doesn’t keep him from trying on occasion.

[deepweboutlxws]

4 ( for the affection meme. )

Display of Affection Meme

Despite how brash and abrasive he tended to be under some circumstances, there was one thing that held true with Lucas: there were certain things he had to take his time with. Stalking a target, developing a course of action to carry out an assassination, writing his poems and letters, and now, he had to add accepting love and affection to the list.

Though, he supposed the root of the problem was not a lack of familiarity with the feeling of it. He’d been in love before, he’d dated before, but his many attempts to kindle something long-lasting had all been snuffed out largely for the same reason. Over time, his perception of love had grown sore and sour, leaving him to cling more to the aspect of sexual satisfaction than the fulfillment of a long-term relationship. Commitment seemed pointless and needlessly worrying now. Simply put, his issue was that he often questioned the point of something that only ever stayed in his life long enough to break his trust.

So it came as rather a shock to him when he realized that he wanted to try again. He never thought he’d have the thought again but he swore it— this time, things were different. It wasn’t him trying to navigate his way through someone’s heart and mind, it wasn’t him having to readjust to a new and harsh reality that came with dating someone so different. Ernst was a lot like him. His romantic experiences were limited, his perceptions on love fell vaguely near Lucas’ on the spectrum. They were both lost, but they were both trying to find their way through it, and luckily, they knew each other well enough to at least have an inkling of an idea of which direction to go. Most importantly, both of them seemed to have a mutual understanding that their best might be limited, and that was okay, because neither of them were really accustomed to the warmth of affection anyway. It was something they would both have to grow into, so it was better to take things one step at a time.

Lucas was just glad they’d made it this far.

It had been such a long time since he’d cuddled. He’d forgotten how wonderful it felt to be able to hold someone, and to be held by someone. The myriad of sensations that flooded his senses brought out a different side of him entirely. The warmth of another human body against his, one that he could hold close and wind his arms around and squeeze. One that he could trail his fingers over in an attempt to memorize every shape that it was comprised of. And to his delight, Ernst had plenty of shapes. Soft pudge and firm muscles, broad chest and sturdy back, skin speckled in sunspots and freckles that the Pole happily would have spent the hours counting with kisses. Collections of scars that he traced, wanting to know the stories behind them all but holding his tongue knowing that it was too soon to ask. His favorite shapes were the curve of Ernst’s jawline and the collection of roses at his hip. Lines of ink were tracks that the trains of his fingers slowly followed across his skin, running the circuits over and over again, never once faltering or running out of steam until he did.

The scents were something he took more time to get used to; his sensitive nose was hardly welcoming to the stench of chemicals and gore leftover from his countless operations. A soft encouragement to take baths more frequently with even unscented soap brought about a better result than he expected. As much as he loved his fancy body washes and colognes, Lucas could not deny that there was simply no comparison to what Ernst smelled like naturally. He had that familiar scent of something vintage, yet preserved in its aesthetic throughout the years. Something nostalgic, mingling with something warm and pleasant and vaguely sweet. It somewhat reminded Lucas of freshly baked bread, but he could never quite put his finger on it. What he did know was that never wanted to forget it, and he was certain he never would. Just like he knew he’d never be able to forget the sound of Ernst’s voice. He’d gone through his life hearing many voices, many accents, and many dialects, but he was certain there was no one else’s in the world’s like Ernst’s. So soft and whispery with a German accent that pooled around each of his words like honey sweetening every syllable. It was music to his ears, one of the few kinds that could soothe him. A kind that he just wanted to relax upon hearing, and spend hours listening to and appreciating while his hands did their rounds.

The motions of his fingers were often accompanied by migrating lips that loved to traverse across the deserts of skin, catching glimpses of the taste of Ernst at oases across his flesh. There was no greater paradise than the taste of his lips of course, but the rest of him came pretty damn close in Lucas’ mind, and it was worth relishing anyway. It tamed the ravenous animal inside of him that had long pined for some to satiate the cravings for affection he so desperately wanted to offer. It shattered his image to reveal something surprising and adoring. What was left when the hardened, stubbornly gruff exterior melted away seemed to be a whole different person. And a big spoon at that! Underneath the confusion and the insecurities, there was a man who was certainly touch-starved, but he was also a man who was more than willing to give. A gentle soul that was more than capable of being delicate and loving. As rare as that was.

The hitman could think of no better way to be spending his hours than with his arms wrapped around Ernst. Sure, it wasn’t exactly perfect. They were both still new at it and hadn’t quite mastered the art of intertwining themselves without it being awkward or uncomfortably tense in some positions and on some occasions. They were more than a bit out of practice in that regard. But as it grew to be a more frequent pastime, they both found that it was something they were both quite good at. And spooning was definitely up there on their list of favorites. The smaller man was elated to practice nuzzling into his companion’s upper back and the nape of his neck. The peach fuzz of his cheeks tickled at the Dollmaker’s skin, low coos of affection rumbling within Lucas’ chest and throat, only interrupted by the Pole moving closer and adjusting his arms around his lover’s chest to squeeze him a bit tighter, a bit more protectively. The older man shifted with him, not wanting to crush the arm he was currently laying on that curled so delicately over his heart. His larger palms came to rest against the significantly smaller man’s forearms, pressing into them to seemingly keep him even closer than he already was. A silent plea not to go anywhere.

If the sudden flurry of kisses he began softly pressing into his partner’s neck and shoulder was anything to go by, Lucas had no intention of leaving any time soon. It was hard for him to resist a quivering smile as he poured out his affection for Ernst in such a tender way. One of his hands found the other’s, compelled to take a firm hold of it and intertwine his smaller, slender fingers with much larger, more powerful ones that shared the same calloused, weathered texture. All he could be bothered to do now was savor the intimacy of the moment and the strange bond they shared. He was much too infatuated to fight his feelings anymore, and he was slowly growing more content with that reality. More comfortable with idea of letting his guard down, even if he wasn’t quite ready to do so just yet, So long as he could take his time falling deeper in love with Ernst, he would be satisfied. What they had was something odd but something strong, something they had to grow into. But it was something they both mutually wanted, and something they were both enjoying taking their time with.

After all, some things simply couldn’t be rushed.

[chemicalmongrel]

Chem & Powder

Continued from this! | @herbounty

To describe the supplier of the illicit goods as shifty was an understatement in every sense of the word.   He was gangly, all arms and legs, without any substantial meat to make up for the lengthiness. Stringy black hair clung to the back of the man’s neck and against his forehead, each clump slick with grease, while grimy blotches were caked into the shaved sides of his head. His lumpy head resembled some malformed nut, similar to how the rest of his skin just seemed off. Drops of sweat curled their way down sallow cheeks; stains of both dirt and sweat begot dark patches across the heavy fabric wrapped around his body. And beady dark eyes recessed into his skull were framed by dark, heavy bags from several nights of restlessness. Zaunites were known for a great many things, but even with hygiene being reserved for those populating the Promenade--the man before Sarah took uncleanliness to the extreme.  Long and gnarled fingers curled around the burlap containing his payment, the other mitt darting to where a length of thick cord tied off the opening whilst he backed up several steps. He turned and rummaged through to ensure the proper amount was there. Then a crooked grin played on chapped lips as he proceeded to hand back the bag, reluctantly, before reaching back to take hold of a large nondescript crate.  “Jus’ as prom’s’t!” he crooned. “Lat’st shipm’nt a chem-tech from da chem-jacks in da Factorywood! Ga-run-t’ed ta blast ‘n singe a hole thro’h anyun dum’ enuf ta stand in yer way! Go ‘head, see fer yerself!”  Suffice to say, Sarah’s dealer was more than pleased with himself for procuring the items she’d requested. And true to his word, the target she picked for a test blackened as the glob of chemicals lobbed from the nozzle ate a hole straight through.  Then the man’s grin waned as he shifted from one foot to the other, glancing around nervously as whatever feeling affected the fiery-haired woman seemed to wash over him as well.  “Wh-” It was all he could get out before the ROAR.

Observing the transaction taking place was an infuriating affair for the beast. The wharves of Zaun were among the few places it seldom wished to be, for the salt-laden air and foamy ocean waves flooded its nostrils in the worst way. Even worse, though, was the vast stench of THIEVES and MURDERERS mingling together. Its city was not where the true currency originated nor was it where it held up, after all.  Cogs, silver serpents, golden krakens and more were all cover-ups for these men and women’s true income--PAIN and SUFFERING.  So to be in a place where all of these MONSTERS came to deal in their MISDEEDS caused the beast’s pelt to bristle and hackles to stand on end.  But its shot at one of the patrons of the true currency of Zaun brought the beast here, and it wasn’t about to give up over some minute discomfort.  The very thought of a monster, a PIG, so engorged on the ANGUISH of others that they had the AUDACITY to label themselves baron caused it to pull its lips back and brandish WICKED teeth like rows of spears. How it’d relish sinking TOOTH and CLAW into such a bloated morsel, each bite TEARING muscle and sinew as fat bleeds out like puss from an infected WOUND-  Movement.

 Attracting the beast’s attention was the manner in which its PREY and the woman he spoke to seemed to shift ever so slightly ( PREY LESS SO ).  Did they notice its PRESENCE?  The man had never been so perceptive--the woman, then?  Now its INTEREST was piqued, more so than it had been before when it smelt the woman from when her ship wound its way into the city’s wharves.  P R E Y T O O  The scent of pain wafted off her as acrid sulfur, perfume and soap chased after. But that wasn’t all. Something was off about the scent emanating from her.  No, no - Different? Different?  What ODORS it picked up from the men crewing her vessel were just like every other GANGER and CRIMINAL in Zaun.  M O N S T E R , H U N G R Y  It couldn’t put a finger on it, but something was off--familiar, even.  Attack, attack, suspicious, get before fleeing - not woman!

 That telltale SICKLY mucus green glow radiating out from the pipes JUTTING in and out of the BEAST’S body, as well as the chemical chambers EMBEDDED in its back, disturbed the veil of shadows clinging to its HULKING physique. A growl then OOZED out of its clenched jaws to RUMBLE across the ether, ears flicking before folding back. Metal GROANED and SHRIEKED as claws like daggers DUG in.  And just before those below could yell out in fear, the BEAST lurched forward as its limbs rocketed itself towards where the MAN and woman stood--a bellowing HOWL piercing the air and resounding throughout the wharves.

[hinatadovahkiin]

Hinata the Dragonborn #2

Faendal and the Golden Claw

Breakfast was an interesting affair, in Hinata's opinion. The whole family had woken up fairly early, a little before dawn. Gerdur had gone out in the garden to take care of it and then went on to feed the chickens and the cow. The Hyuuga girl had tried not to stare too much at the 'cow'. It looked anything but one, but she decided to keep that opinion to herself. It's milk was no different than that of the cows from home, though. Gerdur had brought in a whole bucket of milk and had poured it in some pot to boil it by the fire place. Hod had also gotten out early, returning with several fresh loaves of bread.

That morning, Hinata decided, breakfast was rich but fairly simple. There was bread and cheese, and also some of the smoked bear meat. Both men had eaten heartily, smoothing down their bites with large gulps of freshly prepared herbal tea. Gerdur had also helped herself to a piece of bread and some cheese, but had opted to have mostly porridge with milk, which was also Hinata's and Frodnar's main choice for breakfast. Stump was laying near the fireplace, gnawing on a big, meaty bone that Delphine, the innkeeper, had procured for him. Or so Gerdur had told her.

"Hinata." Gerdur called her, while wrapping up some bread, meat and cheese in some cloth. She also noticed a canteen with what she assumed was some tea."Could you be a dear and take this to Faendal? He's our local hunter and also helps out at the mill. He's been rather distracted lately and I think he might've forgotten to eat again."

"Uhm, Gerdur, how do I-"

"He's easy to spot, being the only elf in town. Either look for that or for his lovesick expression." Hod laughed heartily at his wife's explanation.

Gerdur handed her the package and Hinata made her way out of the house. It was early enough and she could hear the roosters from the neighbouring houses crowing. The sun was barely poking its way over the horizon, throwing a frenzy of shimmering light and shadow spots through the trees. Despite the sunny morning, it was quite chilly and Hinata could see her breath. Before heading off, she took a slow, deep breath and exhaled contently. The scent of the air was sweet and fresh, somewhat unlike the one at Konoha's surrounding forests, but still vaguely familiar and reminding her with a bittersweet feeling of home.

It didn't take her long to find Faendal. In fact, he was all too easy to spot with her Byakugan, seeing as he was all nervous energy and very distinctly different from the surrounding human forms. Hinata found him pacing near a tree stump, by the wood mill. He was holding some sort of letter on his hands, expression shifting between anger, hopelessness and desperation. Occasionally he would throw a dirty look towards a small house on the other side of the street and mumble some things which a proper girl like Hinata would not care to find out or repeat.

Elves were strange creatures, the Hyuuga heiress decided. Their skins were of distinctly non-human color. The elf she had seen at Helgen was taller than the Jarl, Ulfric (who was the tallest human she had ever seen), but this particular elf was shorter than the average Nord, but still slightly taller than her. Faendal was of a tanned complexion and even so he looked somewhat pale. His eyes were dark, a very vivid brownish color. His facial features were pleasantly handsome with what she determined to be distinct elvish sharpness to them. His hair was near shoulder lenght, straight and silvery. It was worn loose, but by his currently slightly unkempt look she guessed he hadn't had a wink of sleep last night. There was this haunted tiredness to his face that made her relate with him. Gerdur had been right in at least that – he indeed had the look of someone who was lovesick. In a way, he reminded her of herself.

"Oh. Did I see you talking to Sven?" the elf had whipped so fast in her direction that she nearly jumped in fright. He spoke quickly, but with a clear voice. He glared at her for what was all two seconds after which his expression turned into something more friendly (or at least neutral). He frowned. "Hm. Maybe not. Maybe...nevermind."he shook his head thoughtfully." But I would stay away from him if I were you."

"Uhm." was Hinata's intelligent reply and almost immediately she felt embarrassment crawl its way on her cheeks, as she mentally kicked herself for lack of manners. "G-good morning. G-gerdur s-sent me to give you t-this." She nearly shoved the package and the canteen on top into his hands in her nervousness.

For a while, he just kept staring at her critically, without uttering a word. She didn't dare to look up, feeling his gaze upon her. It eerily reminded her of the way some of the Elders still looked at her. Elves, Hinata decided, had something creepily perceptive about them. Predatory intelligence, if you will. Finally, after what seemed to be forever, he spoke.

"You are not a Breton." he started, never removing his scrutinizing eyes from her."And you are not blind. You arrived yesterday with Gerdur's brother, did you not?"

Finally, Hinata gathered the courage to look up. His head was slightly cocked to one side, indicating his peaked interest. Absently, she took note of the slight circles underneath his eyes. Faendal sighed and he shifted the package to his free hand so he could look at the letter again.

"Nevermind that now. Tell Gerdur I give her my thanks." the elf sat down on the tree stump and ran his fingers through his silvery hair.

Obviously dismissed, Hinata bolted for Gerdur's house, nearly tripping over the semi-full loading cart in front of the inn. Whatever kinship she felt about Faendal, it was outmatched by her sense of discomfort. He was so...intense. There was no better word to describe him. She wondered what was written in that letter to make him be so... Hinata stopped in her tracks, several feet away from the gate of Gerdur's and Hod's place. No. It was completely wrong and intrusive to one person's privacy. But Faendal was so distressed about the letter and maybe she could help if she knew what was written in it. Besides, nobody would know.

A chill ran down her spine as she tried to shove that little voice out of her mind. She was a Hyuuga and not some mingling, gossipy housewife of no consequence. She was also a ninja and ninja were curious and suspicious beings by nature. In the end, after standing frozen like that by the gate for ten minutes, said nature won over her sense of better judgement. She headed right back to the wood mill, activating her Byakugan and hoping the overly perceptive elf wouldn't notice her.

Dearest Sven,

I really enjoyed that last poem you sent me. It flattered me to no end as you compared my hair to chocolate waterfalls and my skin to the softness of the pale petals of a white, moonlit rose...

Hinata felt as her gentle heart broke over Faendal's predicament. Apparently, he was madly in love with this Camilla and he was vying for her affections along with this Sven fellow. She bit her lip as Faendal sighed sadly again, his expression absolutely crestfallen. The Hyuuga's sad eyes now gleamed with determination. She would help the elf win over Camilla. If he could do it, then so can she win Naruto over! With these thoughts in mind, she headed back, again, to Gerdur's house.

Frodnar was playing with stump by the river. Ralof was dressed in farmer's clothes and looked well rested and clean. He had tied his hair into a pony tail, though that little braid still hung to the side of his face. She smiled shily as he waved hello and grinned at her. She quickly entered the house and found Gerdur cleaning the mess the men had made at the table.

"Gerdur?" Hinata started. "What c-can you t-tell me about Camilla?"

Late morning found the Hyuuga girl cleaning up the various armors and weapons in the company of Frodnar and his dog Stump. She was sitting on a log at the back of the house, humming lightly, as her trained hands worked expertly over the various crevices and kinks of the armor pieces. Frodnar was watching her with something akin to awe and Stump was sitting beside him, lolling his tongue and doing his happy doggy grin.

"Uncle Ralof told me you killed the headsman with a single poke to the chest." he suddenly blurted, having worked up the nerve to talk to her.

Hinata stopped humming and looked at him, blinking twice.

"Uhm, y-yes I did." she replied softly and continued with her work.

"Wow! And if you poke them in the head, do their brains squirt out through their ears? That would be totally awesome!"

"Uhm. N-no. T-the enemy just d-drops dead."Hinata wondered where this line of questions was going.

"And uncle Ralof said you killed a bear with just an Iron Dagger. I saw the pelt! That bear must've been huge!"Frodnar exclaimed."Are you some kind of an assassin? Like those from the Dark Brotherhood? I mean, they'd totally kill someone with a single poke! And Faendal would be so jealous! He killed a bear once at three hundred yards during a blizzard and I bet it wasn't as big as yours! Hey! Can you teach me how to do that poke thing? I'd totally want to kill Imperial Soldiers like that!"

"Uhm. I-it's a family secret, Frod-dnar." Hinata mumbled. "It t-takes years of t-training, too."

"Aww. Maybe you can show me how to throw daggers? That would be totally awesome as well! Uncle Ralof said you killed a bunch of them Imperials with daggers to the throat. I've been begging Faendal to teach me how to use the bow, but he says I'm too young. I'm not too young to use daggers, am I? I mean, they're small  and I already know how to throw, so..."

"N-no, Frodnar. I started w-when I was four."

"Sweet! So you can show me how to do it later, since you're busy right now." With a grin, Frodnar ran off to play with Stump.

Hinata could not shake the distinct feeling she had just been played into a rather elaborate verbal trap. She sighed. There was no backing out of it now, and it would probably be better if she actually did show him some throwing techniques. It would be the least she could do for the boy and his family to return their hospitality. She picked up the armor she was polishing and gave it a once-over. Satisfied with her work, she took up an Imperial Sword. She would be done in another hour or so and then she would head off to sell her goods to Lucan Valerius, the local merchant. She had a plan that had been carefully constructed after her rather lengthy chat with Gerdur about one Camilla Valerius.

Apparently, several years back, the Riverwood Trade had been owned by this very old Nord fellow. One of his children had decided he was getting too old to live on his own and had taken him to live with them in one of the farms near Whiterun. It was around that time that the Valerius siblings had appeared and with every last bit of their meager coin had managed to keep up some business within the small community of Riverwood. And it was also around that time that Sven the Bard and Faendal the Hunter had discovered they both found the younger Valerius sibling to their liking.

Camilla was a charming young thing, if a bit too stuck in the clouds sometimes. She was one to seek adventure and was also a die-hard sucker for romantic poetry and novels. Gerdur described the somewhat comical at times rivalry between the two young men. But, as of the last few months, things had taken a more desperate turn and both Faendal and Sven were ready to do nearly anything to win Camilla's affections once and for all.

Hinata could see how Camilla found it hard to choose between the two of them. On one side there was the incredibly intense, intelligent and cunning persona of Faendal, who happened to spend a lot of time hunting for various types of wild game, sometimes returning after being missing for days with a troll skull and a sizeable amount of troll fat (an expensive commodity). He also happened to be quite handsome in his own, elvish way and, according to Gerdur, was usually very polite and witty.

Then there was Sven, who was the typical tall and broad-shouldered Nord. Who also happened to be ridiculously good at singing and writing sickeningly sweet romantic poetry. Hinata had yet to hear him sing or to recite some of his works, and her only contact with him had been distant, as she was busy with Ralof, finding his sister.

And speaking of Ralof...

"You really did a good job with the armor and weapons. Don't let Alvor, the local blacksmith, see you, though. He'd whisk you away to make you his apprentice." the tall blond man joked as he examined one of the Imperial Swords. " These should fetch quite a good price. If there is one thing those Imperial Bastards do well, it's their smithing. Their armor is usually lighter than a Nord's, but it isn't designed to battle with the cold, nor does it withstand the steady pounding of a nice, two-hander. Their swords are of superb quality as well-"

"T-they have good b-balance and the handle is c-comfortable."

Ralof grinned.

"You really know your stuff, don't you, Hinata? You know, I've been meaning to ask you...I hope it isn't too personal or that you don't take it the wrong way... But you seem to have military training. I find that to be very strange for someone as gentle as you." His voice steadily grew from slightly teasing and cheerful to more serious. "I wouldn't be asking, but I need to know my family would be safe."

"I-I understand, Ralof." she replied softly, her eyes looking down at her hands that were already fiddling with each other nervously,"I told you I-I was a ninja, r-right? And I c-come from K-konoha. Village hidden in-in the Leaves. I-it is called a hidden v-village, because it is w-where ninja live a-and train. We a-are like mercenaries b-but under the d-direct c-control of the Daimiyo, t-the leader of o-our land. W-we answer t-to the Hokage, the supreme c-commander of all ninja in a c-country and the Hokage o-only answers to the Daimyo. Some ninja, l-like myself, come from clans. I-I am from the Hyuuga clan. W-we possess a bloodline c-called the Byakugan. Y-you a-already know w-what it does. Uhm."

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Hinata. It wasn't right of me to-"

"N-no, Ralof. It w-was the right thing to do. They are your family. I understand." She said, managing not to stutter in the end, looking him in the eyes. She would've done the same, after all.

Ralof sat next to her and remained silent for a while.

"I'm leaving for Windhelm tomorrow." he suddenly said, looking sadly at her. "I don't want to go so soon, but every moment I spend here puts Gerdur and her family in danger. Maybe when the war is over I can return without worrying about the Thalmor bursting through the door. I've told you already several times, but I really think you should join us in the fight for the Freedom of Skyrim. You're a capable woman and I'd  rather have someone like you to watch my back."Ralof chuckled."Even when you are in front of me."

The effort earned him a blush and a shy smile from the Hyuuga.

"You don't have to leave with me right now, you know. I've spoken with Gerdur and she agreed to help you find your way around here for as long as you need it." the blond man tucked in one of her dark locks behind her ear and by doing so gently brushed his thumb against her burning cheeks.

She squirmed a bit, glowing a new shade of red while he chuckled. It took her ten more minutes after he left her to her own devices for the blush to recede. She wished he didn't look so much like Naruto. She also wished she knew how to tell him that she didn't like him like that. And then she'd imagine his broken, crestfallen expression and she'd feel inexplicably guilty about it. With a sigh she carefully packed the armor and weapons in bags and headed to the Riverwood Trade.

"Well, one of us has to do something!"

"We are done talking about this!"

"Well, what are you going to do then, huh? Let's hear it."

"I said no! No adventures, no theatrics and certainly NO THIEF CHASING!"

"Uhm."

"Oh, a customer. Sorry you had to hear that. What can I do for you, young lady?"

"I-I brought some armor and weapons to sell, and hopefully I c-can look at your robes." the shy girl sad softly and brought up the two bags.

Lucan Valerius was all too happy to take a look at the weapons and armor. He took his time examining each and every piece, noting down prices or if they had scratches and the like. Hinata took her time examining the shop. She had heard something about thieves but the only thing that seemed out of order was the broken lock of the front door. Lucan noticed her stare.

"Oh. Eh, we had a bit of a...break in. We still have plenty to sell, though. Apparently, the robbers were after only one thing – an ornament made of solid gold. A golden claw of ancient Nord craft." The man looked whistful while describing said artefact."Camilla here wanted to go and chase them, but these are armed bandits, and at Bleak Falls Barrows no less."

Lucan sighed and then looked at Hinata.

"I can offer you 2 300 septims for all of the armor and swords."

Hinata nodded, trying to hide her surprise at the offered amount. Ralof had told her to expect between 1000 and 1 500 septims for the entire set of gear she had cleaned, oiled and polished. Apparently, she had done a good job to fetch that prize and Lucan was no push-over when it came to his job as a pawnbroker and local merchant.

"Now that this is settled... Camilla, help the lady choose some robes!"

"No need to yell, Lucan, I am right over here." the young woman said as she rolled her eyes in exasperation. As the older sibling tactfully took the armor and weapons to the back room, Camilla gave Hinata a look from head to toe. "You know, Lucan can be a little thick sometimes, but he means well. Come on, let see what we can find."

Camilla pulled out a box in which there were several different types of clothes stacked.

"Why do you need robes, anyways? You don't strike me as a mage.Hmm. This one is too light and pale and this one...brown doesn't suit you. This one is enchanted, but I doubt the ugly color is worth the price. You need something blue or...lilac.Hmm. Oh ! How about this one? It's a brand new one. No enchantments or anything. The outer tunic isn't too long and it gives a lot of room for movement, the pants are thick and keep the cold out. Also, they go marvelously with this pair of black shoes! And these gloves will keep the cold out. Oh, come on now, put them on!"

In the end, Hinata bought what Camilla had suggested and was on her way to Gerdur's home with about 1 500 septims in her coin purse. Her improvised Kunai wrappings were easily hidden by the upper tunic of the dark grayish-blue apprentice robes she was wearing. She made note to ask Gerdur about this Alvor that Ralof had mentioned. She'd  need those knives and daggers sharpened, and probably a few new daggers as well.

"Hey boy. I heard you nailed a septim to Lucan's doorstep. Damn near drove him crazy. That true?"

"Yeah, so?"

Hod looked around for his wife but apparently, she wasn't around. The man grinned proudly at his son and ruffled his hair.

"Ha! I knew it! Had your name written all over it, that one did!"

"That ain't nothing! Wait till you see what I've planned for next week!"

Hinata giggled, the father-son interaction reminding her of Naruto's antics. Both turned to her, surprised by her presence but then Hod grinned and Frodnar rushed at her side.

"Hinata! Can you show me how to throw daggers now? Huh? Can you?"

"Uhm. I-I need to find Faendal to speak with him and t-then I c-can give you some pointers?"

"Oh, okay. I'll be playing with Dorthe by Alvor's smithy." the boy ran off, Stump following close behind him, barking happily.

"Gerdur told me you might be planning to get Faendal and Camilla together," Hod stated seriously. "I've told that girl, Camilla, time and again You need to choose between those two boys. It ain't fair to Sven or Faendal to keep tuggin' on their heartstrings like that." Hod shook his head. " Camilla's a nice lass but she spends way too much time with her head in the clouds, fancying herself some sort of princess and the boys... meh. I'd usually say that one should stick to their own, but Faendal is a fair and hardworking lad and Camilla would do better with him. Sven's taken too much after his own father, and that ain't a good thing, let me tell you that. But listen to me, rambling on about people like some gossipy wife. You'd better go talk to Faendal. He's cutting wood right now, by the wood mill."

Hinata thanked Hod for his time and went for the wood mill. She found the elf easily enough, chopping wood just as Gerdur's husband said he would.

"Uhm. F-faendal? C-can I talk to you for a m-minute?" Hinata started nervously.

The elf placed another log and chopped it into two with ease. He put away the two pieces and finally looked at her.

"The not-Breton. Hinata was it? Gerdur mentioned you'd be staying with her family for a few days." she had his full attention, which unnerved her to no end."You said you wanted to talk? Well then, speak."

Hinata blushed at his tone and looked down at her fiddling hands. She took a deep breath and prepared herself as best as she could.

"IknowhowtomakeCamillachooseyou." she blurted out rapidly, mortified at the thought that he might end up insulted by her mindling. Hinata half hoped she hadn't understood what she had said.

"Oh? Let's hear it then."

Hinata wasn't one to swear, but had she been...well...fuck.

"U-uhm. S-some b-bandits stole a g-golden c-claw a-and C-camilla w-wanted t-to go and g-get it. B-but i-if you g-go t-then...I-I t-thought t-that m-maybe...uhm..." She blushed a darker shade of crimson and the words died out in her mouth. She took another deep breath. "Iwashopingyou'dcomewithmetoBleakFallsBarrowsandgetthegoldenclawback."

She bit her lower lip, trying to calm her nerves. Faendal blinked once. Twice. Then, slowly, his eyes brightened and a very small smile stretched upon his lips.

"If I bring back the golden claw and then Camilla would...but that would mean...and then...Oh. That's  a brilliant idea! Why didn't I think of it sooner? And here I was busy forging a letter. What are we waiting for? I'll go get my armor and my bow and arrows. Wait for me by the other side of town, by the bridge. I will be there shortly."

Hinata nodded, not trusting herself to speak again. As Faendal went to get his gear, so did she went to Gerdur's house to prepare a few bags, some potions and maybe some food, just in case.

"Oh, Hinata? Where are you going?" Ralof asked, coming from upstairs, after hearing the door open and get shut.

"Uhm. B-bleak Falls B-barrows. F-faendal a-and I are getting the g-golden c-claw back for Camilla." she explained, while figuring out how and where to attach the various pouches and the big knapsack.

"Bleak Falls? I'll come with you."

And before she could say anything, Ralof was already attaching pouches of his own and taking up a shield and his trusty Stormcloak War Axe.

888

"Ralof? I didn't think you'd still be around." Faendal said while shaking hands with the blond Nord. "So, what brings you with us? Other than keeping the not-Breton girl safe, that is."

"Hah. You've always had a bit of a mouth on you. I'll be leaving tomorrow and, to be honest, I don't want to miss out on the fight." Ralof grinned at the Elf."And Hinata here will probably have you eat your words. Right, lass?" He winked at the pale kunoichi and she turned slightly pink at his antics.

"Don't tease the-, ah, Hinata. She is shy and I doubt Gerdur would be pleased, either." Faendal said sternly and seriously, as the three of them headed for Bleak Falls Barrows.

Not too far away, two pairs of eyes watched curiously.

"So, that's Hinata." Dorthe said skeptically. "She doesn't look like much. And your Uncle is all over her."

"I'm not lying! Uncle Ralof said she poked a man in the chest and he died! Come on! Let's follow them. They are going to fight bandits at the Bleak Falls Barrows and I bet she's going to kick ass!"

"Fine, but if your Uncle or that Wood Elf end up saving her, I get to tell you I told you so."

888

"The wind's picking up. Let's hope the weather persists and there isn't a blizzard." Faendal said as he readjusted his fur cloak.

"There's the old Imperial Watch Tower up ahead. Hinata, can you check if there are any bandits?" Ralof turned to the kunoichi and she nodded.

Faendal was just about to say that it would be unwise to do so when the petite pale girl suddenly exclaimed Byakugan and the veins on her temples bulged.

"One armed with a two-handed hammer resting by a tree, next to the bridge. Male, average height, favors his right side. Female with a longsword, also armed with a longbow and...18 arrows. Has a dagger hidden in her left boot. She's resting by the entrance of the tower and talking with target number three. Male, tall, heavily armored, possesses a sword and a shield. Fourth target is male and at the top of the tower, observing the surrounded area. Hasn't spotted us yet, also heavily armored and bearing a two handed sword. There is a chest there and something is glowing in it. Unable to determine what."

Ralof looked particularly smug at Faendal's awestruck expression.

"That is useful." the elf finally stated. "Very, very useful."

Hinata released her eye-technique and the veins receded.

"That isn't any normal magical ability. And your eyes...That is hereditary, is it not? Simply fascinating."

"Y-you're very observant, Faendal." Hinata finally said, as the three of them crept closer and closer to the tower. Thankfully, the wind had mostly died down and it wasn't shoving snow particles into their eyes. That, however, also meant that they could not use the snow gusts for additional cover and Ralof's Stormcloak Curiass and heavy shield did not make it any more easier for them to sneak.

"I think I can take out the bandit by the tree from this distance. As long as the wind doesn't pick up again." Faendal said quietly and in one swift motion took out a steel arrow and set it on his bow. He aimed carefully and he was about to unleash the arrow when there was a loud dog yelp and two child-like screams not too far away from them. Apparently, the Bandits had heard the sounds as well, as the bandit by the tree drew out his huge hammer and the only woman present prepared her bow. An arrow whizzed by Faendal's cheek as Hinata activated her Byakugan.

"Frodnar!" she exclaimed with sudden alarm and darted to the children's location.

Another arrow whizzed and Ralof used his shield to block it. He did not wait for the bandit with the hammer to come any closer, and as her lifted his two-handed weapon, the Stormcloak smashed his shield into his torso, forcing him to stagger backwards. With a swift hacking movement, he slashed the man's throat with his axe, leaving him on the ground, gurgling and bleeding to death. The bandit woman was almost dancing around Faendal's arrows, showing a lot more fighting aptitude than her now dead comrade. The third bandit  was upon Ralof as the woman decided to attack Faendal in a melee fashion, bandishing her one-handed longsword. Anticipating her move, the Wood Elf took out his Iron Dagger and parried as best as he could. The longsword, while quite worn, was well kept and of superior quality. Faendal was well aware that any slash would be enough to break his dagger. He needed to do something, and quick. A quick side glance to Ralof revealed that the Nord wasn't fairing any better against his opponent, who was also wielding a shield and a sword. And quite expertly too.

"Urgh!" the woman suddenly grunted, as a knife lodged itself to the side of her throat. Faendal lost no time and picked up her longsword, shoving it down her chest with one clean, smooth move. In the spand of a few seconds, he watched in awe as the otherwise shy and timid girl took on the last bandid with nothing but her bare hands.

"Gentle Fist 8 Trigrams 64 Palms!" she intoned, the veins around her eyes bulging. Her fingers literally glowed in a pale, slightly bluish light. Faendal wondered if the girl was out of her mind. And then she intoned: "Two Palms! Four Palms! Eight Palms! Sixteen Palms! Thirty-Two Palms! Sixty-Four Palms!"

Her hands shot out so fast that they were practically blurrs, even to his acute elven sight. The man stood paralized for a few moments, then he coughed out blood and fell to the side, dead before he even reached the ground. The Bandit with the shield had  turned only for a second but that was all Ralof needed to shove his axe into his neck, separating the head from the body in one swift, but bloody strike.

Hinata let out her breath and her strange stance loosened. The veins around her eyes receded and she turned around to face Ralof and Faendal. Or that's what the elf thought she did. When he followed his gaze, he saw the two children and the dog he had heard earlier.

"Frodnar, Dorthe!" he exclaimed sternly, glaring at them both. Ralof's own glare was no less intense."What in the name of the Nine possessed you to follow us up to the Barrows?"

"If your mother sees you here, Frodnar, she'd skin us both alive! And Dorthe! I thought you were the sensible one!"

Dorthe looked properly abashed but Frodnar was too busy staring dreamily at the three of them, nothing on his mind but their impressive battle.

"Uncle Ralof! You chopped that man's head clean off! That was SO AWESOME! And Hinata! She poked a whole pack of wolves to death in the blink of an eye and-"

"Frondar, Dorthe, you will go back to Riverwood immediately. Do you have any idea what would've happened if we hadn't heard you and Hinata hadn't come to your rescue? You two are in so much trouble-"

"Mister Ralof, please don't tell father or mother! I promise I'll keep Frodnar away from such ideas, just please don't tell them! We're sorry! We really are." the girl, Dorthe, pleaded.

Faendal shook his head and Ralof sighed. Kids these days. At least he knew he could count on Dorthe to keep her word.

"Very well. I won't say anything to your parents or Gerdur." the children looked relieved, but he wasn't finished. "BUT! You will help Gerdur at the mill or Alvor at the smithy. This isn't some game you know. You could've died. Look at Stump, the poor sod. Do you want him to die because of your little 'fun' games?"

Both children shook their heads no, shame clear on their faces.

"I'm sorry." Frodnar mumbled, trying not to cry.

"No one got hurt, so it is quite allright. I believe you've learned your lesson."Faendal said and then turned to Ralof." I'll make sure the kids do as they're told. Well, you better be off now. We've still to reach the Barrows and we've lost enough daylight as it is."

The two children ran off down the road, along with Stump and the three of them watched their descent until they could no longer be seen. After rummaging through the tower and discovering a nice frost enchanted short sword (which Faendal took in lieu of his earlier encounter), they headed out.

"We'd best hurry up. Let's go, Faendal, Hinata." Ralof took the lead up the snowy road to the Bleak Falls Barrows.

There they were met by several bandits, most of them archers and a single one wielding a heavy two-handed axe. As they quietly entered the temple itself, they made note of the numerous freshly killed bodies of skeevers and also one dead, heavily bitten all over, bandit. There was a fire cackling at the other side of the hall and Hinata informed them there was a man and a woman there. With two swift and accurate arrows, Faendal made quick work of them.

"There is a locked chest here." Ralof said as he finished looting the bodies of anything useful.

"I'll take care of it." Hinata said and activated her Byakugan. She shoved two glowing fingers at the lock and it made a distinct clicking sound. And extremely useful technique, but one that literally killed the lock for any further uses. Sadly enough, they only got a  Potion of minor healing and about fifty septims.

As they made their way quietly through the temple, they saw a man, another bandit, standing by a lever of some sort. Silently, Hinata prepared one a dagger and activated her Byakugan. The man, however, pulled the lever and suddenly mechanisms from all about the chamber started moving, visible only to her all seeing gaze, and small poisoned darts started shooting out from all directions. With a pained grunt, the man fell to the floor, dying quickly from the large amounts of poison. Hinata lowered the dagger and turned off the Byakugan. Faendal and Ralof shared a look as the kunoichi tenderly approached the body.

"T-there is an entire complex m-mechanism all around us in-in the walls. It is c-connected to the gate ahead of us and t-these pillars over here." Hinata said as she approached the three pillars. She stared at them for a while and then Activated her Byakugan again. Faendal and Ralof watched her as she slowly turned each of the pillars untill they were positioned in a snake-snake-whale configuration. Her gaze was oddly intense, almost unseeing in the way she was glaring.

"She's looking at everything and everywhere at once." Faendal mumbled, fascinated by his realization."She really is all-seeing."

Ralof merely nodded in acknowledgement to his words.

"You c-can pull the lever now." she said as she turned aroud, veins receding once more. As Ralof pulled the lever, Faendal spoke to her.

"This room was designed as a puzzle" he pointed towards the head statues with the animal symbols, including the one that had crumbled next to the lever. As the door opened and no darts pelted their bodies, the three of them moved on to the next room, as cautious as ever.

"Someone has been through here." Faendal finally spoke, taking note of his surroundings.

"H-hai."Hinata agreed, her ninja training not leaving her far behind the elf's observations.

"I don't like this place. It's too quiet." Ralof finally said, after entering yet another devoid of life room.

"Hmm..."the Hyuuga heiress activated her Byakugan once more, opting to leave it on for longer this time. "there are t-three small specks of life b-beneath us, down the spiral stairs. I t-think they're sk-keevers?"

Ralof and Faendal nodded as the former took out his axe and shield, while the latter prepared his new, enchanted sword. Ralof took the first rodent with a shield bash and a well-aimed stab. Faendal took out the second one by cleaving it in two with a single swish. The third ran past the men and aimed a pouce at Hinata, who easily sidestepped and poked it at the side of its neck. A nasty crunch resounded and it lay dead on the ground.

"T-there is a man ahead. N-no. An elf. I think?" her glaring eyes took on a spark of uncertainty. "I also see a spider. A big one. It's lying in wait on the ceiling. It's using the elf as a bait."

"That...is a big spider." Ralof stated as he hefted up his shield higher and tightened his grip on his axe. He dashed forward as the Wounded Frostbite Spider lunged for him, only for its mandibles to clash with his shield. It screeched as Faendal's flurry of arrows hit their mark. Hinata rushed past the two men and went for the web-trapped elf.

"Thank Arkay! I'd thought I'd never make it out of here alive!" the dark colored elf exclaimed as she nimbly slashed at the thick webbings keeping him in place."Now hurry up and get me free before that damn spider turns around and tries to eat me!"

"Damn spider!" Ralof shouted as he brought down his axe upon its head, killing it. "I really hate spiders."

"Ha! I'm free! Sorry, but i have a treasure to get to – Ack!"Arvel the Swift, as previously web-trapped elf was known, tried to make a dash for it, only to find himself at the mercy of Hinata's powerful Chakra pokes. "Bloody bitch, what did you do to me! I can't move my legs and arms!"

"He has t-the golden c-claw." Hinata stated as she removed it from the sputtering elf. "D-don't worry, Elf-san, t-the p-paralysis will wear off in several hours." the Kunoichi stated as she gently positioned his limbs in a more comfortable position.

"That is useful. Very, very useful." Faendal exclaimed, amusement evident in his voice.

"Should we get back? We have the golden claw." Ralof asked.

"Uhm. T-there is something up ahead. "she looked in a certain direction at a wall, eyes squinting as she concentrated on her vision. "It's at the edge of my d-divination field, b-but I c-can make out a wall. With glowing words. I-I think they're words."

Ralof and Faendal shared a look again.

"We can continue on, if you like. We got so far, why not go through it all, then?" Faendal said and Ralof agreed.

"Hey! You're  not leaving me here like thi-" Alver tried to complain, but Hinata pinched him at the base of his throat.

"Sleep, Elf-san."

"These are the burial chambers?" Faendal guessed as he looked at the various symbols and signs carved in the stone walls.

"Aye. Ancient Nord Burial grounds." Ralof explained as he looked at the well preserved state of the various bodies. "Would you look at that armor." He whispered as his hand  rose to touch the surface of the finely crafted metal piece."

"Grr!" the eyes of the dead body opened and one hand grasped tightly around Ralof's arm.

"DRAUGR!" Ralof yelled as he hacked away at the undead creature with his axe.

Suddenly, bodies started rising all around them. Hinata's eyes widened as she realized she couldn't see them through the Byakugan.

"Hinata!" Faendal yelled as he  whooshed past her with his enchanted sword and slammed it firmly into the head of the draugr behind her.

They were too many. Hinata deactivated her Byakugan and took a deep breath.

"Run upstairs! Now!" the kunoichi yelled as she prepared her Gentle Fist Stance."Go!"

"Damn it, Hinata!" Ralof yelled at her.

"I don't want to hurt you, just GO."

Faendal grabbed the shouting Nord and pulled him away as much as he could.

"KAITEN!" the pale girl almost screamed as almost all of the Draugr were nearly upon her. She started spinning. Really fast. And then she was surrounded by whisps of that pale white-blue light. The light intensified and for a few seconds Faendal and Ralof could see nothing but the light. And then there was the screeching sound of ripped metal, the sound of metal against metal, metal against hard stone, bones cracking, dry flesh ripping... then the light faded and all was silent, except for a dull thud and the heavy panting of a girl.

"Hinata!" Ralof yelled in alarm as he saw her collapsed form in the middle of a whirwind of dead body parts.

"I-I'm allright." she said meekly as she squeezed her eyes shut. "I-I need a m-moment."

Her head was spinning and she was pretty certain she'd need a Magicka potion or two.

"You should stop saving me, Hinata. I'm supposed to be the big strong Nord." Ralof chuckled, albeit it was strained, and he brushed away some of the stray strands of hair that were upon her face.

Faendal moved on ahead.

"There are quite a few traps here, be very careful where you step." He cautioned, as he gingerly sidestepped any loose plates on the ground. Going even further ahead, he saw a corridor with swiping blades trap. Moving swiftly, having timed the movement of the blades, he made it unscathed to the other side and deactivated the trap.

Ralof and a rather unsteady looking Hinata catched up with him as another wave of draugr were upon them.

"Sit this one out, Hinata." Ralof said and helped her sit down by one of the stone coffins.

Faendal noticed that Ralof was now sporting a new axe, or, rather, an Ancient Nord War Axe. The draugr in this room were a lot less numerous than the one in the first. As they moved forward, Hinata cautioned to be wary of the oily liquid that was splattered on places on the floor and also of the precariously hanging oil lamps above their heads. As they progressed, Hinata's step became more steady and soon enough they found themselves in a cavern-like area with blue glowing mushrooms. The Kunoichi took interest in the and harvested almost all of them. Among the ruins of the temple they found several gems, various ancient rings, ear pieces and other jewelry, some in better condition than others. Faendal was particularly satisfied by a jeweled golden necklace, which he immediately claimed for Camilla, along with two matching golden rings that they had stumbled upon earlier. For himself, the elf took an Ancient Nord bow, along with a set of Ancient Nord Arrows. His own bow was better, but he liked the idea of having this one gracing the wall beside his fireplace as a memento of this adventure.  It was only a bonus that it happened to be enchanted with fire damage.

"You could make instant dinner with that one! One shot and wham! Instant roast rabbit!" All three had laughed heartily at Ralof's joke, though Hinata's version of a hearty laugh was more of a melodic giggle.

Finally, the three of them approached a closed gate. It was easy enough to guess how to open it, as the correct combination of symbols was etched onto the bottom part of the golden claw. Hinata, however, said that, with her Byakugan she would've been able to pass by the locking mechanism of the gate. At that, Faendal had amusingly remarked that she would make the greatest thief since the infamous Gray Fox of legend. Ralof had given him a dirty look at that comment.

"Is that the wall you spoke of?" Ralof asked as they entered the final chamber of the Bleak Falls Inner Sanctum.

Hinata nodded as she strained to hear better the very faint sounds of...chanting?

"Ano... d-do you hear that?" she asked, looking at both of the men.

"I don't hear anything except for the bats." Faendal immediately exclaimed, looking as confused as Ralof. He was certain she was not talking about the bats.

"It's like ... chanting." she mumbled as she approached the wall.

"There is a coffin here, might be another Draugr" Ralof stated.

"C-can't you hear it? It's so loud." the kunoichi exclaimed as she traced the cuneiform script.

Here lies the Guardian

Keeper of the Dragonstone

and a FORCE of eternal

rage and darkness.

"Fus..." she mumbled and at the same time something kicked out the heavy stone lid of the coffin.

"Ro...Dah!" the massive draugr hissed and an invisible force slammed all three of them painfully into the wall.

"Ungh!" Hinata cried out as she felt one of her shoulders getting dislodged.

"Argh!" Ralof was first on his feet as he body-slammed into the heavily armored Drauger, forcing it to stagger backwards. But as he was about to shove his axe into the Draugr's neck, the undead creature kicked him in the chest. Faendal, finally on his feet, fired several arrows in quick succession and then took out his sword and flanked the creature.

Hinata activated her Byakugan again. Her shoulder was definately dislodged and she also sported several cracked ribs, making breathing somewhat painful. At least they weren't completely broken. The Kunoichi stood up rather tentively and then slammed herself into the cuneiform script wall, forcing her Humerus back into position. Very painful but effective. She then uncorked one of the remaining Healing Potions and gulped down the disgusting liquid as quick as she could. She threw the empty glass bottle to the side and rushed into the battle, slashing the Draugr at its joints and its neck. Faendal dealt the final blow as he managed to shove his swords through the undead creature's chest from behind. With a heavy grunt, the elf pulled out the sword and the dead body fell limply to the ground.

"That Draugr...it shouted. Like the Greybeards...like Jarl Ulfric. That was a shout!" Ralof rambled on in excitement and awe. And shock. For a while he just stood there, staring at the undead thing they had just defeated. Suddenly, he started laughing like a maniac. " My brothers and sisters...haha! At Windhelm! Oh, Talos! They'd never believe me when I tell them we dispatched a huge Draugr that could shout! Oh, this is going to be quite the story to tell the future generations!"

"You can take its armor as proof." Faendal suggested, prodding at the huge corpse with his boot." He's a bit larger than you, so the armor would definately fit. Hmm. Hinata, can I borrow your steel dagger for a second?"

It took Faendal the better part of an hour to remove the armor of the creature by releaving it of its arms and other body parts. In the end, he was pretty proud of his handy work, Ralof was pretty disturbed and Hinata had opted to look at the pretty stone plate at the bottom of the coffin for the sake of her own gentle psyche. But she had to hand it to the elf. He had a very clinical approach to the whole... dispatching process.

"I think Alvor can fix the huge holes on both sides. What do you think, Ralof? Ah, Ralof?" Faendal looked at the Blond Nord to see him staring with a pale face at the hand the elf had thrown absently to the side. Its palm was lying on his boot. "Oh, for the love of... it's  just an arm, Ralof."

Hinata actually giggled at that, despite the horridness of it all, or, perhaps, because of it.

"Uhm, c-can I take this stone p-plate with us?" the kunoichi pointed at it.

"Oh, of course, Hinata. Let me carry it, though. It looks heavy." Ralof immediately picked it up and gently wrapped it in the old linen cloths lying about the coffin."Looks secure enough to me. Okay, let's head out before it gets too cold outside. It's probably already dark."

In only a matter of a few minutes, the three of them were at the exit.

"Ah, at least the sky is clear tonight. Imagine trying to get this load to Riverwood in complete darkness, eh Hinata?" Ralof commented, but his words went unnoticed by the Hyuuga girl.

"Hinata, is everything allright?" Faendal was first to notice that she was staring unblinkingly, with wide horrified eyes at the sky, quickly beginning to hyperventilate.

"Hinata!" Ralof cried out in alarm as she collapsed to her knees, crying, whimpering, shivering violently.

The Blond kneeled and grasped Hinata's shoulders, squeezing them gently and calling out her name. She was unresponsive, not even registering neither his attempts nor those of Faendal's to get her out of her sudden state of shock.

"Two moons!" she suddenly croaked out through sobs, then rambled on in her native tongue. Ralof embraced her tightly, gently rocking her back and forth, trying desperately to understand what was going on.

Beside them, Faendal stood as still as a rock, hand covering his mouth and his vividly colored eyes wide with his terrifying realization.

"Hinata, please tell me what's wrong!" Ralof pleaded again.

"T-two moons! Two moons, Ralof!" she sobbed. " I-I'll never go h-home!NEVER!"

"Hinata calm down!" came Faendal's cold and sharp voice."Look at me, girl. Ralof, let her go. She needs to get over her shock. Hinata, I said look at me!"

He shook her violently and then forced her face to meet his eyes.

"You are not alone, Hinata! We are here. I want you to breathe in slowly and then breathe out. Stay with me, Hinata. Ralof, give me the canteen."

The elf spashed the cool liquid on her face and then gently slapped her.

"We will get home, Hinata! Stop crying, woman! This will not get you back to your world. If there is a way to get you here, then there is a way to take you back home as well. Get yourself together or are you giving up!?"

Faendal's steely words finally got to her and she blinked. Her face was red and her eyes were puffy from the crying. She wiped at her tears and then she frowned at the elf.

"I'll never give up!" she stated with determination and then wiped her face again. "L-let's go."

Not a word was uttered on the way back.

After a late night dinner at Gerdur and Hod's home, Faendal went to his home, but not before giving Hinata a reasurring smile. As the rest prepared to bed, Gerdur could not help but notice the Hyuuga's strange mood. When she asked her brother about it, he explained that there was nothing they could do, except giving their support.

"Please Gerdur, I know it may be too much to ask, but let her stay as long as she wants to. She has nowhere else to go."

Somehow Gerdur knew that Ralof was not just repeating himself. There was this desperation in his eyes that spoke silent volumes about what had transpired in the Bleak Falls Barrows.

"I already told you that I will, Ralof. Don't you worry about that." with that, Gerdur went to sleep.

"Hinata, are you awake?" the blond Nord whispered.

"I-I am." she replied quietly, her voice slightly hoarse. Ralof sadly reflected that she was crying again.

"You've been crying again." he said softly.

"I-it's just t-that I-I'll never see them again." she sobbed quietly."F-father, my sister Hanabi, m-my cousin N-neji...M-my team, Shino, K-kiba and K-kurenai-sensei. A-and Naruto-k-kun. I-I'll never see him again."

As she shook with her quiet sobs, Ralof felt as if someone splashed him with cold water. Of course, she had someone in her heart. Feeling incredibly sad and somewhat guilty of his behavior, Ralof gently placed an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, gently rocking her back and forth.

"Shh..." he whispered in her hair." It's okay to cry. Let it all out. It's okay to cry, but not okay to cry all the time, you know?" he joked gently as his fingers ran through her hair. His effort was rewarded with a weak giggle. He smiled at her. "You are a strong girl, Hinata. Strong and gentle, and smart. You will find your way back home. I am sure of it. And then you will be back to that Naruto of yours and if he isn't waiting for you then I will come there and kick his ass into Oblivion."

And despite herself, Hinata giggled again.

"Y-you're a g-good person, Ralof." She whispered as she wiped her tear streaked face.

The blond man grinned at her and then kissed the side of her forehead before letting her go.

"Go to sleep Hinata. I don't want you to be groggy when I leave tomorrow."

"Good night, Ralof-kun." Hinata mumbled sleepily.

"Goodnight, little princess." Ralof mumbled back, and soon both were asleep on their cots.

The next morning they woke up early and the entire household had a rich, filling breakfast. With cheerful laughs and lots of smiles, Ralof said farewell to his sister and her family. Finally, he turned to Hinata  and pulled her into a bear hug and off the ground, making her blush prettily.

"Oh, and one more thing before I leave!" he said and swiftly leaned down to her face and stole a kiss before she realized what happened.

With a high-pitched eep, and face as hot as the sun, her pale lavender eyes rolled back into their sockets and she fell unconscious into Hod's hands.

"RALOF, YOU DIRTY PIG!" his sister screeched after him, as he laughed heartily, a pretty pink blush marring his own face. Now he would go to Windhelm, knowing he had kissed the prettiest girl of two worlds.

[subtletie]

moon: what is your astrological sign? - Aquarius Sun, Taurus Moon. Wouldn’t seem like it, since T moons are generally known for emotional stability while I am quite the opposite. This is likely due to my other, more problematic aspects coming into play. gingerbread: your moral alignment - Neutral. I have no significant inclinations towards good or evil. I am generally passive, though I will, more often than not, prefer to benefit myself at the expense of others when I gather the courage to do so. birdseed: family or friends? Neither, I tend to abhor both. On the odd occasion, I feel grandiose love and affection for some of them, but more often than not, it tends to fade back into resentment. sheets: your sexual orientation Mostly straight, though I appreciate beauty in every gender. I’m female, and I am (unfortunately) attracted to males (considering how awful they can be). warm milk: when do you usually fall asleep? Depends. If I’m exhausted, it can be as early as 7 pm, but usually no later than midnight. pot of honey: your gender identity. Cisgender Female. snow: what is your favorite time of year and why? I don’t think I have a favorite time of year anymore. I used to love the fall and Halloween. yarn: what are your most enjoyable hobbies? I don’t particularly enjoy much nowadays. If you count binge-eating as an enjoyable activity for a fraction of the time, I guess that would be it. bicycle: what are you talented at? Nothing in particular. Forcing myself to be academically responsible, perhaps, although my intellect has dulled greatly in the past few years. folktale: what stories remind you of your childhood? I would read plenty of fairytales as a child. There will always be a place in my heart for the Warrior Cats Series and some Disney. woods: where do you feel at peace? Like the name of this very prompt, the woods truly do make me feel at ease. Beautiful places generally produce a calming effect within me. chicken feet: what is your emotional “flaw”? I have many. Notoriously, I cannot repress negative thoughts or emotions all that well. If I feel sad, angry or hurt I let it be known. I can (rarely) go off on the person who hurt me, or let it all spill while talking to someone. I also react angrily towards the people who surround me. Dark emotions tend to eat me up inside and it burns to keep them there. This is likely a byproduct of repressing emotions throughout my younger years, which gradually lead me to become depressed. Due to the fact that I don’t want to be as sad as I used to be, I feel the need to let my demons escape through speech and writing. red cheeks: what makes you nervous? Many, many things. I am quite easily disturbed in terms of nervousness or anxiety. Speaking to someone new, eye contact with someone I am not comfortable with, talking about certain subjects, when someone notices that I become nervous or am acting strangely because I am anxious, feeling judged, etc. sunflower: what do you love and cherish? I don’t think I truly love anything. My feelings of “love” tend to be intermittent and obsessive. Let’s say, food during binges, liking someone new only for that feeling to falter as soon as they do something “wrong”, that feeling when I look at my body after slimming down, myself when I think I look pretty, and the list goes on. Perhaps my laptop would be the sole exception to this rule, as I appreciate it more so than any other living thing. bells: what sounds are your favorite or calm you the most? Rainfall, without a doubt. The Cello fragment in one of my favorite songs, Midnight in a Perfect World, though I’m not sure if I should count this in, since it makes me feel rather nostalgic, above all things. turnip: what is a food you could eat everyday? So many things. Mostly Italian food though, it’s amazing. spit: do you get jealous easily? Yes. mushroom: list unique things you like about yourself. On those rare days in which I have the audacity to be vain: I like my long, curled eyelashes, my softly chiseled cupid’s bow, the golden flecks which dapple my otherwise ordinary brown eyes, my soft porcelain skin when it’s not scratched and damaged, the dimples beneath my ass,  the delicate collarbones and the curve of my waist. I seem to love a lot about myself despite loathing my appearance the vast majority of the time. cupboard: a good childhood memory eyebags: what do you think makes a person attractive? Physically, Mentally or Emotionally? These are the major aspects I take into account for attractiveness. Physically, I can be flexible, I can overlook this aspect when someone is incredibly attractive, both mentally and emotionally. I like traditionally masculine features, strong jawline, chiseled cheekbones, but I can appreciate a softer appearance as well. Mostly, the eyes do it for me. I love people with an intense, emotional gaze. I like lightly muscular bodies or those on the slimmer side. I prefer people who are at least 4 inches taller than me (I’m 5′3), they make me feel safer for some reason. I prefer shorter hair over longer, and I tend to appreciate formal attire over casual, too. I have a bit of an aversion towards reddish hair, though I could definitely get over this. (I used to like someone who had ginger hair and things didn’t end well). Mentally, someone who is inquisitive and thoughtful. Someone who knows when to pay attention to detail, is mature, level-headed, perceptive, passionate, assertive, patient, sweet and understanding. Preferably, someone who brings out the best in me. Emotionally, they should be kind, gentle, a balance between sentimentality and sobriety. A person who knows how to both support and motivate others and isn’t afraid to say what they’re feeling.                                                                                  fallen log: something you’ve gotten over that you never thought you would. I’ve never gotten over anything. Any trauma that has ever made its way into my life still churns within, gradually corroding my insides. Physically? I don’t know if I would say I never thought I’d heal, but I feared I’d never recover when I had Tuberculosis.                                                                                                    dagger: your worst fear I’ve always felt it’s “bad luck” to talk about your worst fear. Mentioning it helps it materialize, and therefore, more likely to occur. whisper: do you have any secrets? Well, I used to masturbate tons before I got a UTI which pretty much wrecked me, since it hit me while I had a weakened immune system due to my being underweight. I masturbated thinking of a guy I really liked who I also remain somewhat close to.                                            wild boar: which person do you feel closest to? I would have to say my mother. There is too much she doesn’t understand or care about, so I can’t truly say that she and I are truly close. I tell her a lot, mostly because I have nobody else to, but she is like a child in may ways and this frustrates me. Ideally, I would want to be closest to someone who could provide me with levelheaded insight about how to become a better person and how to deal with the more difficult aspects of life.

sweet: what candies or cakes are you fond of? I love, love, love apple pie. Chocolate fudge brownies are also amazing. footprints: do you remember your past lives? I don’t think I believe in past lives. If I did have one, however, I was likely an unfulfilled, unhappy soul just like I am now. Something tells me the person that I used to be was even more wretched than the one I am now. fur: name an animal you feel connected to. None at the time. Ages ago, I felt a connection to Tigers, but it’s all a farce. Allow me to explain. My concept of what a Tiger represents relates to everything that I wish I was, rather than what I truly am. I doubt this could be called a connection, but it’s the best I’ve got. In my mind, a Tiger would be powerful, leader like, assertive, confident, charismatic and bold. I am weakened, passive, lacking both passion and focus, preferring to revel in thought rather than action, insecure and absolutely self defeating. vodka: do you drink? No. I have an addictive personality, I’m afraid I’ll end up adding another self-destructive habit to my current repertoire. sour cherry: an obscure tradition from your family? None that I know of. pine needles: what is your favorite scent? I have a few. Lavender, roses and vanilla, just to name some of them. heart-shaped: do you believe in love? are you in love? I believe that love is fleeting. I’m talking about romantic love, when everything is beautiful and nothing hurts. I do not know whether or not I am truly capable of feeling love, though I do believe that other people might. My feelings of “love” are dauntingly obsessive, based on the perpetual idealization of the object of my affection. Needless to say, this is an undeniably unhealthy way to feel this “love” which is spoken of. In its better form, love can mean caring for someone even more than you care about yourself, wanting and supporting their wellbeing, teamwork, solidarity, intimacy, and making each other better people all around. A true balance would be the perfect love in my eyes. This is when two people complement each other, counteracting each others’ weaknesses and building up strengths. I was in “love” (read: obsessive idealization) with a “friend” a while ago. He does NOT feel the same way, this I know and I thought we could get along without there being any kind of romantic involvement. Boy, was I wrong. I started to feel things for him after us not talking for quite some time. He also has a girlfriend and I absolutely do not want to be with someone who doesn’t want to be with me, and me only. I also wouldn’t feel at ease with myself knowing I helped rupture a relationship. It’s complicated and I’ve decided not to speak to him anymore. home: where do you dream of living? In a beautiful little town, within a one-story home that is both quaint and spacious with a feline friend or two. The walls are made of wood and sunlight flows in mingled with fresh air each morning. There’s an ocean view from my bedroom window and I don’t have to drive any sort of vehicle to move about. Alternatively, I could live in a bustling city in a medium sized apartment within a building with gorgeously traditional design. The city I live in is culturally rich, dappled with lovely little cafes all over. It’s a place where I can take nightly walks while feeling safe and where I never run out of things to discover and explore. I can visit museums and watch musicals tirelessly. I can work up the courage to talk to strangers every once in a while, making friends here and there. I can waste my endless supply of time whilst losing myself inside of labyrinthine little bookstores. spice: list your favorite herbs I don’t know, don’t think I’ve got any that are explicitly favorites. mud: something you’re insecure about but trying to love. My breasts, since they’re quite small. The fact that my legs are thick, despite the me being relatively slim. tobacco: do you have any addictions? Binge eating. sock: how would you describe your clothing taste? Mostly feminine, but casual. cuckoo clock: are you a morning, a noon, or an evening person? I used to be a morning person, evening now. wooden fence: a favorite memory. Going to the beach with my parents after school back when I was in elementary. I remember wearing my uniform and pulling up my pants so that I could play in the ocean waves. As dying sunlight stroked my face a salty breeze would tousle my gold flecked hair. The ocean waves were crisply cold and shallow as a stark contrast to idyllic warmth of that afternoon. My dad would smile and play with me along the shore while my mother sat by and watched us rejoice from afar.

Writing this really helped clear my head. March 24th, 2018.