Where I Walk

[50 Scenes] [Hitsuhina] Response

Sat, 28 Nov 2009 23:17:20 GMT

Title: Response
Author: davyn
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Hinamori Momo
Prompt: 31 - Response
Word Count: 402
Rating: Adult
Disclaimer: I do not own bleach or any of its characters.

Momo brushed her fingers along the window pane. Rain had long ago cooled the window and the heat from her fingertips was causing small areas to fog over. There was just enough light coming from the outside world for her to make out the trail of her fingertips. It was a beautiful night, cold, wet, dark, and it made her thankful for the heat at her back and the warmth of her bed. Fingers ghosted over her bare shoulder and she shivered, shifting so she could glance over at him. His bed rather, but she wasn't complaining. The warmth of his lips settled against her shoulder and she sighed, shifting a bit more.

"Couldn't sleep?" she reached up and caught his hand, bringing it around so she could kiss his palm.

"You moved."

She smiled, turning so she could brush her hand over his brows, smoothing the furrow there. "I woke up." The snort that followed her pronouncement had her biting her lip. This early, or late, he would huff at her until she distracted him and she was content to listen to the rain. It was a soft patter against his window and for now it was calming. His free hand slipped from her shoulder to her hip and he pulled her to his side.

"All right?"

She turned her head and smiled against his shoulder, nodding. "It’s peaceful."

He sighed, chin settled against the top of her head. "You got out of bed to make patterns on the window?"

"It's a nice window." She muttered, glancing up at his profile. She could just make out his jaw line; she ran her fingers over his lips, edges quirking up when he gently bit her.

"Come back to bed."

She pouted, "But what if I want to listen to the rain."Teeth found the shell of her ear and she shivered again.

"I'll make it up to you," he murmured.

"Better," she retorted, shifting so she could bite his jaw. He shifted them both backwards, back into the tangled mess of blankets she had vacated earlier.

"Bossy," he muttered, fingers wrapping around her hips.

"You like it."

He kissed her, mouth firmly slanting across hers. "Stop talking."

"You started it."

Silence. Teeth nipped at her collarbone and she gasped.

"Grumpy," he murmured.

Warm hands curved over her stomach and she sighed relaxing into his touch, fingers moving up his arms to slide over his shoulders. "Later." She agreed.

[50 Scenes] [Hinamori Momo] Nocturnal

Fri, 02 Oct 2009 01:42:42 GMT

Title: Nocturnall
Author: davyn.
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Hinamori Momo
Prompt: 06 - Nocturnal
Word Count: 167
Rating: PG
Summary:Interesting things happen in the moonlight.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own bleach or any of its characters.

Momo stared up at the man in front of her and trembled. She wasn’t afraid but she couldn’t quite explain the way her stomach twisted and her knees threatened to give out under her. She hadn’t expected to have him materialize in front of her any time soon… not after she had….

When he smiled, eyes glinting in the moonlight she closed hers just in case she was dreaming. She had come so far and lost so much, but he was there standing in front of her like he had been waiting for this moment.

And maybe he had.

“Tobiume…” she breathed. The wind brushed against his face and what felt like soft petals danced against her skin and she opened her eyes again. He was gone. She tightened her grip on her sword and glanced at the full moon.

“Thank you,” she told it, fingers sliding over the hilt of her sword, thumb moving to brush over the flowers there – a time honored tradition. “Thank you.”

[Birthday Fic] Handcuffs for Gogo

Sun, 08 Jun 2008 01:27:38 GMT

Title: Momo's Guide to Relaxing
Author: kellenanne, davyn
Pairing: Hitsugaya/Hinamori
Rating: PG-13
Warnings/Kinks: Handcuffs (as requested)
Word Count: 4,853
Summary: Momo tries to get Toushirou to relax.
Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach.

Took 3rd place in the bleach_bdsm spring fling challenge!

It was raining. It had started two days ago, as night had fallen. Now, at sunset, it was still pouring. Toushirou didn't have a problem with the rain in and of itself, but he could point to at least a dozen in his division – without having to think about it - who had become cranky at the lack of sunlight. That bothered him; not the rain. He would readily admit to wanting to knock a few heads together and demand that they count their blessings: there were no more wars looming – the last one had been long enough - and they were still alive enough to feel the damned rain. Not that he couldn't help them with that.

He liked the rain enough that he had even been blamed for it - an accusation he'd just glared in disbelief at. He absolutely hated it when other people made him cranky about the rain.

Damned division. Whatever had possessed him to actually become a captain in the first place? He hated dealing with the idiots who called themselves shinigami. Not a people person; that's what his lieutenant said. He snorted and rolled his shoulders to ease some of the tension there. He would never tell her, but he could only agree.

As it was, he'd retreated to his quarters as soon as he had deemed that enough work had been done to call it a day. Then again, he'd brought some paperwork with him, as he was wont to do at least three nights out of the week. Tonight it was some idiot incident reports about three of his division members going out and causing trouble. Cabin fever, they'd said, in an attempt to defend themselves. Toushirou had very nearly locked them in a small room together. Give them a few weeks and they'd know the real meaning of 'cabin fever'. And, even after 'speaking' with them he still had to file the incident reports.

Especially since Kuchiki-taichou had managed to get himself involved. Didn't his subordinates know better than to start things with Sixth Division members? Idiots. They were lucky he had gotten there before Abarai - or Kuchiki - had.

Even so, he couldn't bring himself to do these reports at his desk, frothing away at the idiocy rampant in his division. At least, in his own quarters, he could get comfortable and enjoy the breeze that the rain had brought with it.

Something about the cool breeze just made paperwork more tolerable. Well, that or more tempting to just put it away and sit there and let the freshness that the rain and wind brought with it wash over him. He was determined to enjoy this bout of cool weather for as long as it lasted. It was already early summer and even though spring had been remarkably cooler than what was usual he was enough of a cynic to expect the cool weather of spring to turn into a hot, miserable, summer there.

And a hot miserable summer was the last thing he wanted to think about. There were often rumors of mutiny and transfer in his division on long summer days. (Never mind most of those threats came straight from Matsumoto and were, therefore, disregarded as soon as heard.)

Thinking about what could possibly be a miserable summer was enough to make him cranky. He would not be cranky on a blessedly cool rainy day. He sighed, drank in the cool breeze for a few moments, and went back to reading the incident reports.

Better to be irritated by idiots in his division rather than the thoughts of what the weather might be like in a month. He dipped his brush into the ink well on his table and turned to stare moodily at the paperwork in front of him; as much as he'd rather deal with paperwork than idiots, it didn't mean he liked being inundated with work. The faster he finished with this nonsense, the faster he could settle in a more comfortable position and enjoy the weather. He let his gaze linger a few moments longer on the grey world outside before turning his attention back to the papers. Soon; very soon, he could enjoy himself.

He was going to get this finished and then settle somewhere where he could watch the rain. He glanced down at the paperwork in front of him again and had just lifted his brush to begin the tedious process of filling them out when an all too familiar voice rang through his rooms.

"Good evening!"

He would flatly deny startling; in all honesty, if he'd been paying a little more attention to what was around him instead of the paperwork - or mulling over morons in his division - she wouldn't have sneaked up on him. Never mind the chaotic brush stroke across part of that page he'd been working on; when he'd jumped he'd messed that one up pretty good. He sighed softly and eyed it. "Good evening," he returned, not looking up.

If he could just ignore it or clean it up a little, maybe he wouldn't have to rewrite it. Then again, he could just hand it back to the personnel involved and tell them to rewrite it. He wouldn't even need to hand it back. He could just tell them to redo it. Didn't even need a reason. He was the captain, after all, and they had been stupid enough to get into trouble. He would call it part of their punishment.

Hinamori though apparently didn't mind walking past him and towards his kitchen. Nor did she mind rummaging through his things. He glanced up, eyebrow rising when she started opening and shutting drawers. She turned and smiled.

"You," she said when he just kept right on staring at her, "are working too hard again. So I brought you dinner." Her smile turned a little sheepish. "I didn't cook it."

"And thank the gods for small favors," he returned quietly before going right back to his papers. He didn't work too hard; he worked just as hard as any other captain in the Gotei 13. Well, some other captains. Maybe one or two. He definitely worked harder than a few. He worked hard enough to stay on top of things; that wasn't too hard. If anything, other people didn't work hard enough.

He had a lazy lieutenant to prove that point.

He glanced at Hinamori out of the corner of his eye. Despite it all, though, dinner sounded tempting. "What'd you bring?" He caught her scowl and the way she shook her head and felt his lips quirk up in amusement.

"Fish," was the retort a few moments later and another glance from his paperwork indicated that she was answering his question but was otherwise ignoring him. She was turned away from him and her shoulders and back were tight and straight. She was annoyed but trying hard not to show it. Well that made the two of them then. He turned back to his paperwork content to let her do whatever it was that she was doing in his kitchen. Hinamori might not cook but she was fairly decent at cleaning up after herself.

That and he had paperwork to finish so that he could dump it off with his lieutenant in the morning. That way she could file what they needed and send the rest onto the proper channels.

"And don't think you are going to be getting any if you can't put that paperwork down for at least five minutes."

He snorted at that. She knew what the paperwork was like as the head of a division. (But then again, the fifth division only had a fraction of the number of idiots the tenth had. How was that possible? How did his division attract the idiots? Maybe it was Matsumoto.) "There was an incident with the Sixth," he said. She would know what that meant: incidents meant more work than usual.

There was a clank in kitchen and Toushirou blinked, looking up for a second. There shouldn't be that sort of clanking... "Hinamori?"

"Paperwork's just paperwork," she called. "Put it down."

He blinked. Paperwork might be just paperwork, but it was paperwork that needed done. He shook his head and went right back to it.

There was a sigh from Momo and he ignored it. He had exactly two lines done and he had a lot more work than that left to do. He had to repeat this process three times for each of the idiots and he couldn't be any less pleased about it.

A plate of sushi settled on the table in front of him, just out of reach and he glanced up, one eye brow quirking up at the stubborn set to her jaw. "Hinamori?"

"Paperwork down," she repeated, pointing to a spot further down the table, "anywhere but right in front of you and then you can have some food." His brow quirked up a little higher, she was blackmailing him with food? She pulled the plate a little closer, eye brows lowering and he leaned back in his chair.

Anywhere but right in front of him, huh? Did she realize how open-ended was leaving that? Knowing her, she thought she was backing him nicely into a corner. 'Anywhere but right in front of him' certainly did not mean 'put down the paperwork or you don't get food'. Raising a brow, he very deliberately slid the paperwork a few inches to the side. He could still reach it, he was still working on it, and it wasn't right in front of him.

He could almost feel Hinamori's exasperated gaze, but really... he needed to work on this stuff. He glanced up in time to catch the way her lips thinned and he leveled her with his own reproachful glance. She snorted and grabbed the plate, turning on her heel and heading back to the kitchen.

"You can find your own dinner if you're going to be difficult."

She stormed off to the kitchen and Toushirou watched her leave out of the corner of his eye, frowning. He wasn't difficult. She was. That's just how things were around here. She made demands and then became upset when he couldn't meet them. There was more banging and clanking in the kitchen and Toushirou's eyes narrowed.

Damn it, he was hungry. He just didn't see how paperwork and eating were exclusive. He sighed and went back to the paperwork. There was no reasoning with Hinamori when she'd decided he was being unreasonable.

And he was never unreasonable. She knew that. With a soft sigh, he turned back to the reports. He'd just end up blaming this mess on the idiots the incident reports were about.

He had half a page of paperwork finished when arms wrapped around his shoulders. He shifted his head around to glance at her when her chin settled against his shoulder. "You are so difficult," she murmured before placing a soft kiss where her lips were brushing against the crook of his neck.

Without even thinking, he cocked his head to the side for her. She wanted to kiss his neck, so he wasn't going to mess that up by not giving her the access she needed. He may have been stubborn, but he wasn't stupid. Her nuzzling gave way to kissing which went to... he twitched. Nibbling. That was... teeth. He sighed when her mouth slid over a particularly sensitive area, head shifting just a little more.

Damn it, but she knew how to distract him. "Not the one being difficult now," he told her, stalwartly ignoring her and staring at the paperwork.

Momo sighed before placing another kiss just under his ear. "No," she replied, letting her right hand shift down his shoulder to his right wrist. "You never take a break." She moved slowly and he moved his head around to see what she was doing when her fingers were replaced with something cold.

He was just shifting to see what she was doing when his other wrist had… metal? He blinked. She handcuffed him? Wait… what?

"So you're going to take a break." She leaned over to place a lingering kiss along the curve of his jaw. "It will be good for you."

He could have moved if he wanted to; she knew that as well as he did and he toyed with the idea of breaking free and giving her what-for on this one. And, right now? Right now, his idea of what she deserved might be a little skewed thanks to the attention she was paying to his jaw line. She might not have minded. Not at all, but...

...he had to admit to curiosity on this one.

"Was going to," he protested, wiggling his hands just enough to make the short chain rattle. She really didn't want him working on his paperwork, did she?

Momo reached down and pulled on the chain. "Not soon enough. Stop struggling, would you?" Another soft yank on the chain, another nibble under his ear, and he was convinced she really didn't want him near the paperwork.

She moved over and used her hip on the table. He blinked at her. It didn't take much effort to shift it several feet in the opposite direction which was good because who knew what kind of damage a table could do. Especially when Hinamori was involved.

Then Momo moved over and settled on his lap. "You really need to stop working so hard," she shifted upwards and kissed his cheek. "You're going to be really grumpy soon and then Ran is going to lock you out of the office again."

She kissed the corner of his mouth before smiling against his cheek. "You need to relax," she told him, fingers pushing aside his clothing and dancing across bare skin while her lips moved over his jaw line. "Take a break," she whispered against his ear before leaning down to place a few soft kisses on his exposed collarbone.

If this was her idea of getting him to relax then she was going about this all the wrong way. Straddling his lap, pushing at his clothing, nibbling his collarbone; none of it was a good idea if she wanted relaxing. Toushirou snorted, though he'd readily admit that that snort wasn't all exasperation. All this nibbling on him was all well and good - gods, was it well and good - but damn it if he was just sitting there and taking it.

She'd only cuffed his hands. The rest of him was free, and he intended to make use of it.

Momo sat up to look at him, hands settling on his shoulders, and started to say something. He didn't want to hear it. She was talking too much anyway, thinking she was in control. He leaned forward and caught her mouth. She wanted to kiss, then fine. He could do that. Tongue against hers, heated, and it was making a damn fine distraction. Nearly distracted himself. He waited until just the right moment, that moment when she moaned against his lips but before she'd tighten her grip, and bucked his hips.

He couldn't help the smirk when she yelped and slid right off his lap. Served her right.

Momo scowled at him, arms crossing over her chest while she leveled him with what he recognized as her best grumpy vice-captain expression. "That," she said slowly, carefully, "was not nice."

She pushed to her feet and propped a hand on her hip before she slipped round him, back to his side and lightly slid her lips down his neck. She lifted her head so that she was murmuring against his ear. "I should just leave you there because of that, you know." And then she took one good step to the side and frowned at him. "Would serve you right." She pointed at him. "Stop being an ass."

He turned his head slightly, glancing up at her from out of the corner of his eye, and caught her smug look. As if leaving him here would do would do her any good; surely she knew that nothing as simple as handcuffs would keep him in this chair. As if calling him an ass was going to win her any points. Judging by that smirk, however, she honestly thought she had him cornered.

He almost snorted; she'd be in far worse a predicament than he if she tried walking away now. He wouldn't just leave it at mere handcuffs, certainly wouldn't leave her tied to a chair. Best to curb the notion that she was in complete control of the situation as well. He twisted, hooked a foot around her ankle and pulled. She yelped and flailed, hands going to his shoulders to keep herself from falling. "Toushirou!"

She was mad. He smirked; good. She tried to push herself up off of him and he couldn't have that. Her neck was right there in front of him and he intended to make full use of that. His tongue dipped into the hollow of her throat.

"Yes Momo?" he murmured before dragging his teeth gently over the curve of her collarbone. He felt her breath catch and fingers tighten against his shoulders and he smirked against her skin. Foolish girl, she should know better than to tie his hands up and expect him to let her get away with it. He moved the foot around her ankle up higher around her knee and pulled. Momo didn't weigh all that much and it didn't take much pressure to send her sprawling into his lap again. Especially with the way she was already unbalanced against him.

Momo wiggled around for a moment in protest and his breath hissed out from between his teeth. He narrowed his eyes at her in warning when she glanced up at him through her lashes, her lips quirking up at the edges. Then she wiggled again, her thigh rubbing against him before she paused, pulling back and frowning at him. "Stop cheating Toushirou." She poked him in the chest, head angled backwards away from him so that she could scowl up at him.

He let one eyebrow rise in appreciation; her cheeks were starting to flush and she was pouting up at him. He glanced down to where she was sitting and slowly slid his gaze back up to her face; so much worse than the handcuffs if she kept teasing him like that.

He leaned forward, forcing her to tilt her head backwards to keep scowling at him and nudged her sleeve aside with his nose before kissing the warm skin there. "Don't be a tease, Momo."

She drew back out of his reach and he hissed again. Damn stupid girl, pulling back like that. Didn't she know that teasing him was going to get her into trouble? He could make this very difficult.

"I am not a tease," she announced and he had to stare at her in disbelief. What did she think she was doing exactly? She certainly wasn't getting to the point. "I'm just trying something new."

Oh, self-righteous indignation. Momo had a lot of that. He quirked a brow. If she wasn't careful they would be trying something very new and be doing it very, very soon.

"I can see that," he agreed. He wondered how much of this 'new' involved some carefully placed comments from Matsumoto. He was pretty sure that no matter how confident she was becoming in their relationship that this would have never occurred to her on her own. That meant his vice-captain had either cornered and teased her again or had offered her those 'helpful' little books. "Is there a point to this particular foray into something new?"

Momo narrowed her eyes at him in displeasure and he just barely repressed his own amused smirk. She was cute when she was annoyed but this pausing was not really working for him.

"I should have brought the gag," she muttered, crossing her arms.

One eye brow quirked upwards and he did stare at her then. A gag? What had she gotten into this time? "I am not the one who is going to need one if you just keep sitting there like that."

Momo huffed. "Shut up and enjoy this, would you?"

He blinked at her, all innocence. He was the one handcuffed to the chair after all. He was the innocent one. "I would if you'd get on with it."

She pointed at him, eyes narrowed and annoyed. He rather liked that look on her. All feisty and riled. "Next time, you're getting gagged."

He leaned forward and nipped at her finger. He might not be able to slap her hand away, but he wasn't helpless. And if she didn't get on with things, these handcuffs wouldn't be holding up much longer at all.
She muttered something under her breath again and pulled her finger away from his mouth before shooting him a reproachful look. Clearly she still was under the impression that she was completely in charge. Before he could comment she leaned in, her mouth pressing softly against his, small hands moving up to frame his face. She parted her lips and he took advantage of the motion and slipped his tongue against hers. She shifted one hand behind his head to curl into the hair at the nape of his neck and he shivered at the feel of her nails scraping lightly against his skin.

She shifted, hips sliding against his as she started to change her position and he dragged his teeth lightly across on her bottom lip in warning. She kept that up, kept teasing him like this with her little motions and her almost shy little gestures and…

… soft calluses sliding down his arms as she pushed cloth off his shoulders. She bent her head, dragging her lips across his jaw and nipping softly underneath his chin before soothing the soft bite with tongue and lips. She worked her way down to his neck and then over, paying special attention to his collarbone, nipping and nibbling.

She really needed to get on with it though, before he decided that no amount of torture was worth his patience. He squirmed a bit under her. "Quit teasing." There was teasing and then there was torture; this was crossing over into torture.

She hummed against his throat and he wished, fervently, that he had his hands. She was enjoying this entirely too much. Her hands slid up his shoulders and down his chest, lips brushing against his shoulder once more before turning her attention to what she was doing. He shivered at the feel of cool air washing over previously covered skin and dipped his head to watch her progress. She made it to his hips and pulled at what he had tucked into his hakama, loosening his robes considerably. Nimble fingers tugged at the knot that tied it all together and his breath caught when her fingers skimmed over his bare stomach and around the curve of his hip.

She glanced up at him through her lashes and he opened his mouth to ask her what she was doing when she reached up settled her hands on his shoulders, pushing up she shifted her position, a leg wrapping around each side of his hips and she settled comfortably against him. Well… mostly comfortable, a lot more comfortable if she would…

"Momo," he gasped against her throat when she rocked her hips against his.

"You weren't paying enough attention," she murmured against his ear before nipping lightly. Then she was kissing him again.

Well, he was paying attention now. What more did she want? She ran her hands across his shoulders, down his arms, and he twitched in response. He really wanted his hands free. This was not working, she was not being fast enough, and he was not made of patience. If she didn't get on with it she might find herself the one cuffed.

That idea had merit.

He rocked his hips against hers in response when she shifted against him again; damned awkward but hell if he wasn't going to make his wishes known somehow. She could honestly not keep wiggling like that and not expect him to react.

Momo's breath hitched before she pushed backwards, eyes a little wide. "Toushirou!" He leaned forward, determined to get his point across and she shifted backwards, chin tilting in an all too familiar stubborn expression and he realized two things too late. First of all the only thing anchoring Momo to him was her legs wrapped around his waist. The next was that his weight was shifting forward and hers was going back.

Her eyes widened in comprehension and she tightened her legs around his hips in an attempt to pull herself back, but all she succeeded in doing was distracting him to the point that she took him down with her when she tumbled off his lap.

He wasn't entirely sure what he hit his nose on the way down, but he did know that that awful feeling welling up in his nose meant that very soon, there was going to be blood. Lots of blood. And he didn't even have a hand to stem the flow with. He sniffled - like a child, damn it - and buried his nose against the floor. Gods, what kind of stupid move had that been?

"No more chairs." His voice was muffled and damn it if this wasn't a mood killer. Half-dressed, handcuffed to a chair, bleeding nose and... with his luck Matsumoto would walk in right now. With a woman as clumsy as Momo around, he should never do this in a room that wasn't padded.

"Let me see." That was Momo wiggling again and he grunted - no more wiggling. Exactly how was she going to see when she was pinned down by his weight and the chair? He heard her muttering under her breath again and wondered what she was griping about this time. She wasn't the one whose nose was gushing blood. Somehow she managed to get her hands behind his back again. A few more seconds and the handcuffs hit the chair with a small clink.

The chair was pushed up and she was pushing them both into somewhat of a sitting position, not that he was helping, stupid girl. He reached up to cover his nose and she winced.

"I can fix that."

He sniffled again, gingerly probing the bridge of his nose, and staring at her. So he was annoyed. He figured he had every right to be. She couldn't just get on with it when she had him; she had to tease and torture and look where they ended up? In a heap on the floor, bleeding. Of course, he was the only one bleeding. How was that fair? This had turned into one hell of an experiment. "You had better."

No more experimenting without proper safety precautions in place. He really needed a padded room with Momo around.

Momo snorted and reached up, hands gently probing at his wound before she worked her way through a basic healing kidou. The pressure in his nose eased and, a few moments later, she pulled her hands back before fishing around for a second and producing a small white cloth.

"Here." She offered it to him a small smile. He eyed the cloth; one would think she had the whole thing planned out – injuries included. "Oh, take it, Toushirou," she said, shaking the cloth. "It's not poisoned."

He reached out and took it carefully. Never knew what she might have planned; Matsumoto had probably planted some hellish ideas in that empty head. He dabbed at his nose, ever wary of whatever her next step might be. "No more chairs," he repeated. He really wanted to get that point across.

Momo blinked at him and then glanced at the chair and her expression turned sheepish. "All right," she agreed. She glanced back at him and her mouth quirked up on the right side, just a tad. "But we can keep the handcuffs, right?"

He stilled, staring at her over the top of the cloth. Keep the handcuffs? He grunted. Keep the damn handcuffs, huh? Fine. Only if they were padded. And if she was the one cuffed. He stayed quiet; let her stew on that one for awhile. Honestly, he could care less about the handcuffs, just as long as chairs were never involved again. Ever.

"We can keep the cuffs, Toushirou? Right?"

He shook his head. She was such an idiot sometimes. She leaned forward and he let her settle at his side, much more comfortable that way, so long as she didn't think about using those handcuffs just then.

"Yes Momo," he said, pulling them over to his side of their little area; best to keep them safe and sound for a little while – the next ten minutes or so at least. "We can keep the handcuffs."

Improbability

Sun, 18 May 2008 23:30:08 GMT

Title: Improbability
Fandom: Naruto
Characters: Shikamaru, Temari
Genre: general/romance
Word Count: 558
Rating: G
Summary: Just because its improbable doesn't mean it won't work.
Disclaimer: Naruto does not belong to me.

Written for kellenanne.

They were ninja’s. That alone was filled with all sorts of complications and loyalties outside of their realm of interactions. It was what had brought them together in the first place and it was what kept them apart. They were from different villages, had different alliances, served different kages, one was from sand and one was from leaf.

The alliance between their villages had only lasted this long because her brother and their village idiot made it work somehow. How he didn’t know, because Naruto if anything had about as much political influence as a raging psychopath. He had friends though, friends that kept the pieces together until he learned (and could) do it himself.

Still though, alliances were made and broken and it was only a matter of time before this one broke to. He knew Naruto was determined and Gaara was stubborn, even cruel, when he needed to be, but he didn’t hope for much. Hope was for the fools and he was no fool.

After all he was Shikamaru, leaf’s best tactician, a genius, and the best lazy genius to be born into his family since he didn’t know when. He knew governments and he knew politics. He knew how to bring people into power and the best way to strip it from them once they had it. He could manipulate those same political figures and he knew the truths of the world and how easily those same truths could be broken and snapped into nothing.

He stood tall in the shadows, watching, creating, destroying, always changing and always moving.

He lived the life of a Ninja and he did so proudly. For he was leaf’s ninja, leaf’s tactician, leaf’s destroyer of worlds, builder of alliances, and murder of innocents and criminals all for the sake of his village.

She was sands. Belonged to sand, to her brother, to her people just as be belonged to his village and his Hokage.

Still though – he couldn’t quite seem to help the way that he watched her when she was in the village on diplomatic missions. Couldn’t help but notice the way she moved in battle on those occasions when they fought for the same thing, when for a few perfect days their villages moved as one. The effortlessly way she decimated those in front of her with her brass voice and impulsive maneuvers. The way she challenged his opinions for no reason other than she didn’t follow him without questioning, the way she mocked him when he was down, the way she held him up, how she leaned on him when she struggled to take each step.

The way she held onto everything with both hands least it be ripped away from her.

And so he reminded himself of all the ways it wouldn’t work, of all the ways it would fail. It was too troublesome, she was too troublesome and he would never, ever, make it past her brother should he take exception to the whole thing. That he shouldn’t touch, shouldn’t think, plan, or dream anything that involved that particular blond in his life.

Still though, when she looked up at him, hair mused, cheeks bright with her blush, lips curved in that enduring little smile she tried so hard to hide… he faltered before that.

In the end, he really was a fool.

[Co-write] [10th Divion] Control

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 02:11:39 GMT

Title: Control
Authors: Co-written by davyn and kellenanne.
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Hitsugaya Toushirou & Matsumoto Rangiku
Prompt: #019: Control
Genre: general/drama
Word Count: 408
Rating: G
Summary: Matsumoto still needed to learn one important thing.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Bleach and its associated settings and characters are property of Kubo Tite and associated media companies.

( cut to kel's journal)

[Co-Write] [10th Divion] Turbulance

Wed, 19 Mar 2008 02:09:10 GMT

Title: Turbulence
Authors: Co-written by davyn and kellenanne.
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Hitsugaya Toushirou & Matsumoto Rangiku
Prompt: #037: Turbulence
Genre: general/drama
Word Count: 357
Rating: G
Summary: "It was coming. Anyone who was in the least sensitive could feel it, rolling toward the city, unrelenting in its charge."
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Bleach and its associated settings and characters are property of Kubo Tite and associated media companies.

( cut to kel's journal)

[50 Scenes] [Hinamori Momo] Birthmark

Mon, 17 Mar 2008 01:13:45 GMT

Title: Birthmark
Author: davyn.
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Hinamori Momo
Prompt: 06 - Birthmark
Word Count: 342
Rating: PG
Summary: Muses on birthmarks?
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own bleach or any of its characters.

She had no idea why the little spot just behind and below her left knee fascinated her. It didn’t have any particular shape that she could identify. Sometimes she thought it might be a cat at other times a misshapen pear. The mark itself was just a few shades darker than her natural skin color and no bigger than her small fingers nail. Yet every time she washed her legs she found herself running her finger over the mark curiously.

A birthmark. That was what Toushirou’s grandmother had called it when she had shown it to her once before she had moved to Seireitei to begin her shinigami training. There hadn’t been too much information available to her past that, it was nothing evil. It hadn’t been a weird sign that she would die tragically young as a child. It was just a mark she had received when she had been born to her mother in the living world.

An impression on her skin that not even dying had taken away and it captivated her. It reminded her that once she had been something different, had been a child who ran and played and did child like things somewhere else, somewhere strange. Sometimes she had wondered what those games had been, but now that she was older she wasn’t as concerned with child like worries. Still though, she found herself glancing at it each day during her bath time.

Sometimes she thought it was because it reminded her that it wasn’t always this life that shaped them into what they were going to become. Sometimes she could even almost recall whatever it was that had happened to her, her little connection to her first life. But the prickling of her memories never stayed more than a moment before they fled back wherever it had gone the first time.

Her lips quirked and she splashed the soap off her skin that had been sliding down her leg. A birthmark. Just another reminder that not even death changed some things.

It amused her.

[50 Scenes] [Hinamori Momo] Medication

Tue, 26 Feb 2008 20:43:11 GMT

Title: Thoughts
Author: davyn
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Hinamori Momo, Kira Izuru
Prompt: #46 Medication
Word Count: 1, 615
Rating: PG
Summary: Momo and Kira discuss a few hard truths.
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own bleach.

Warning: my first time to write Kira. This could be entertaining, really.

Momo wasn’t particularly fond of all the time she had spent in the fourth division. She liked the fourth division itself. Captain Unohana was a kind and gentle captain and it was reflected in her division, but if she was honest with herself it was the kind and gentle spirit of the fourth division that had her clamoring to get out from behind its walls. It was painful.

There were a lot of different tactics that could be found in the fourth division when it came to taking care of the sick and injured. Each member of the division knew the human body and they took healing the sick and injured seriously. After the betrayal she had found a new appreciation for the quiet and gentle air in the division’s headquarters. She also… itched.

She had tried to hide this particular reaction. It wasn’t the fourth’s manner of doing things that had her so unsettled; it was just that the gentle smiles and soft words of its members and captains had her longing for her own Captain and that was a door best left shut for as long as possible. Hitsugaya’s and Captain Yamamoto’s reactions were all the evidence of that she needed. They didn’t believe her. She didn’t know what to believe herself.

Unohana (for all her efforts of hiding this reaction) had recommended several of her Shinigami for her to talk to. Giving her a list of people who were qualified to discuss this with her as well should she feel more comfortable talking to one of them. And even though Vice-Captain Koutetsu’s name had been on there she just couldn’t do it. She wasn’t sure if she would ever be ready to talk about it. She could barely whisper the words to herself at night when she knew that she was alone and safe. Talking to someone else, to admit her own weakness, and to the stain she knew she would never be able to scrub off? She was not that strong.

She found very little comfort in the knowledge that she wasn’t the only weak one.

Shuuhei had found comfort in talking with Captain Komamura. She was glad for him and the sight of them sitting and talking in the evenings had brought was both comforting and painful. If Shuuhei could find comfort in another captains presence why couldn’t she?

It had been that thought that had sent her seeking Kira. Kira who had followed Gin as blindly as she had followed Aizen. She was not the only pawn who had been used against those they cared for. He had sought her out just once to apologize for his part in the whole thing. Only then she had been still been weak and tired and hadn’t been able to think past the mind numbing exhaustion.

Still though, it was Kira and he was going through the same thing that she was.

She had hunted for him for an hour, content to simply walk around the third’s compound instead of searching for his reiatsu. It had taken longer but it gave her focus and she had been desperate for anything that gave her focus. She had found him on the third’s practice field, going through the steps that they had practiced so many times as students in the shinigami academy. It had been better then, Renji on her left and Kira on her right. They hadn’t been alone either.

She spent a few moments watching him wistfully. There wasn’t a whole lot she wouldn’t have given up to just go back to that time for one minute. Just one sunny afternoon on a field, sweating and training. They had been close then and she missed that. She missed a lot of things that had come and gone since she had entered the fifth division. Strange how she hadn’t noticed before Aizen had left her here.

It hadn’t taken her long to fall into step beside him, Tobiume firmly grasped in her hands. Whatever it was – sparing, venting, fighting - it had been therapeutic. She wasn’t afraid of hurting Kira, she knew his fighting style and so long as he kept his sword’s shika sealed they could battle each other fairly evenly. His height and weight outmatched hers but their kidou was almost even and she was quick.

They were both frustrated, both hurting, and neither were quite sure what would be considered an honest outlet to their pain or not. She didn’t bother trying to hold back, hitting hard, fast, and often. It wasn’t about style, grace, or committing anything to their muscles memory. It was an outlet and it was one she grasped as tightly as her grip on Tobiume. She hit, blocked, and threw whatever she thought of at him until her hands hurt from the force of the blows and her reiatsu waned from the constant use.

Still though, he watched her with the single minded determination and she couldn’t help but wonder if he had plastered Gin’s face over the top of her own. She couldn’t help but put Aizen’s over the top of his. It wasn’t until they were both sweating and shaking, almost to tired to stand, that they called it quits.

The settled on the roof of a nearby building, letting the cool night air wash over them. She flopped backwards and stared at the stars, almost to tired to even think. She had no idea how long they lay there, breathing hard and listening to the silence.

“Do you think about it?” She had expected one of them to talk at some point. She had come looking for Kira because… well she had almost hoped that he would start the conversation. Maybe if he did she could answer. If someone else admitted to needing someone else to talk she could get over the hang up that seemed to be running her life right then.

She nodded, fingers curling around the hilt of Tobiume again. “Every day,” she admitted. Sometimes she even dreamed that it was all just a cruel sick joke. Those were the nice dreams. The ones were her captain was waiting for her in the morning, a cup of hot tea on his desk and his ever present smile in place. The others were the ones where she woke panting and shaking in a cold sweat from the feel of Captain Aizen’s sword slipping through her again and again. Those were the bad ones. The ones were she found even her conviction that Gin was behind the whole thing, was the real perpetrator, slowly crumbling.

“Do you think there was something we could have done?” She broke the silence and he tensed just a bit beside her. She flinched to. That was the question that haunted her. Right along there with wanting to ask him what he had seen in his captain, but that wasn’t fair to either of them. She blamed Gin; she knew he had to blame Captain Aizen and she had to force down her temper at the thought. To long they had been loyal to their captains to have… this happen to them. It was a cruel cycle they could trap themselves in so quickly. It was just better to keep that question firmly tucked away where neither of them could slip.

Questions for Hitsugaya once she was brave enough to ask him as well. To see what ever truths it was that lay behind his eyes as well. She wasn’t there yet. Kira, she glanced up anxiously at him, was it.

“I don’t know,” he said, head tilting back so that he could glance up at the stars. “I like to think we could have.”

She nodded. Could they have saved their captains? Aizen from Gin? She glanced at him again hesitantly, Gin from Aizen? He didn’t know the answer to her question either. Even if he had wanted to tell her ‘no there was nothing we could have done’ he didn’t know. That was the cruel truth of their reality. They hadn’t been raw recruits who could be easily led astray. It had been their captains. Their Captains. She sighed and glanced down at her hands.

It was this, the element of uncertainty that kept her awake at night. All the what ifs in the world could be replayed in the dark when you were alone and couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t change anything, couldn’t go back and fix it, but she wanted to. Maybe that was her problem. Her inability to accept what had happened. To comprehend that her Captain really had stuck her like some hollow that had inconvenienced him. She couldn’t believe that. If she did… where would she stand?

“I wish we could have.” Because if they could have maybe they wouldn’t have been tossed around like little puppets and maybe they could have done something to stop whatever it was that had grown between Aizen and Gin… whoever had corrupt the other one. They were gone and that left them both with cruel realities that she wasn’t ready to face. No matter how she wanted to fight that, wanted to deny it, beg Captain Aizen to come back and take her with him… that couldn’t be changed. She just didn’t know what to do about it or how to fix herself. She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill.

“I know,” Kira said, “I know.”

Momo offered him a hesitant smile and went back to looking at the stars. Maybe… they could be strong together. Maybe they could make it. At least through tomorrow after that… well each day brought something new.

Maybe in time they could forgive themselves to.

[50 Scenes] [Hinamori Momo] Dying

Wed, 13 Feb 2008 01:09:44 GMT

Title: Dying
Author: davyn
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Hinamori Momo
Prompt: 27- Dying
Word Count: 803
Rating: PG
Summary: Momo reflects?
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own bleach or any of its characters.

She remembered what the cool steel of Aizen’s sword had felt like as it slid through the flesh and muscles in her chest. She really didn’t like to think about it all that much. Because of that she had refused to talk to anyone about it since she had woken from the coma that his sword had put her into – but she remembered.

She hadn’t expected it, but she rather thought that everyone knew that by now. She hadn’t paid attention to the central forty-six all that much. Oh she had seen the bodies, smelled the decay and that strange tang of old blood – had known instantly what had happened. Gin had killed them all.

Only it had been more than that hadn’t it? Her fingers moved upwards to press against the new scar there that would eventually lighten and fade into the same pale color as her skin. She wasn’t sure if she wanted it to. She glanced up at the stars twinkling in the distance and sighed softly. Captain Aizen, how long had she followed him? How long had she trusted him? It had been her goal – her dream – from the time she first caught sight of him until she reached vice-captaincy to serve him, guard his back, and earn his regard. Instead she ended up with his sword in her chest while she had stared up at him with nothing short of stunned disbelief.

She had been so happy to see that he was alive. She hadn’t thought past it.

She didn’t know how she hadn’t died. Knew it was thanks to Hitsugaya and Unohana. Had known as soon as he had shoved his sword into her and then just cruelly pulled it out that she was going to die. She had fallen, almost in a daze, with Tobiume shrieking in her ears, unable to do anything but lay there. Her blood being pushed out of her body with each beat of her treacherous heart. She vaguely remembered counting each breath that had left her body. She had known one of them would be her last and she had been determined to try to hold on. She couldn’t remember if it had been the pain or the shock that had caused her to black out, but she didn’t remember anything past that.

Later… much later she had been told about Hitsugaya and she had been forced to wonder if it hadn’t been his ice that had saved them both. The cold slowing their blood flow while they lay on the floor surrounded by the blood soaked ice that his Bankai had produced. She didn’t know if she was grateful to him and Unohana or not. She liked to think she was.

She didn’t know if she wanted to believe the worst of her beloved captain or not either… it wasn’t that she didn’t understand that he was there for more reasons than she could possibly understand. In Hueco Mundo, on the other side of the stars, just out of reach, like the moon was out of reach to all the mere mortals in their world. Only she was no mortal and she had not been a mere person for so long that sometimes she wished fervently for the small cabin that she and Hitsugaya had grown up in. Only she was to set in her ways, to stubborn, to go back there without him… and was too afraid to ask.

It would be so much simpler if Gin had been the reason this had started. She could feel for Matsumoto then. She could wallow in pity for someone other than herself. Then she would be able to tell the older woman that her heart went out to her and that she would do anything she could for her, but… she couldn’t. She knew somewhere on the outskirts of her reach that it wasn’t just Gin, she just didn’t want to believe it. She could ignore it, fight it, deny it every day until the day she finally left this life, but she rather doubted it would change to many things.

No matter how hard she wished to forget it, the look in Hitsugaya’s eyes when she had asked him to save Aizen… the betrayal that had flashed across his face so quickly that she had thought she was imaging it. She ducked her head and let the tears that had been building drip down her cheeks and onto her uniform.

She just wished she knew where she stood. Then maybe she could make sense of it all… maybe then she could stop yearning for watermelon seeds and the kind gentle words of the old woman who had been so kind to them. Maybe… maybe then she could forget how it felt to be dying.

Maybe she could forgive herself to.

[50 Scenes] [Hinamori Momo] Cold

Sat, 09 Feb 2008 07:22:49 GMT

Title: Cold
Author: davyn
Fandom: Bleach
Characters: Hinamori Momo
Prompt: Cold
Word Count: 519
Rating: PG
Summary: Momo does some thinking...
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: I do not own bleach or any of its characters.

Hinamori had never liked the cold. It had never been her element, though she was not naive enough to think that it was just her own personal disquiet with it that affected her patterns when it came to the weather. Tobiume had quite a bit to say on the matter as well when she got riled up. She tightened her shawl around her shoulders and reached up to blow on her hands. Her breathe was visible in the cold air and she glanced at Hitsugaya who was training – again. It had been a few weeks since he had returned from the living world and she hadn’t quite gotten the courage to ask him too many questions about what was going on. The Shinigami who had been sent out had all come home and Renji, who she would have felt the most comfortable questioning had disappeared as quickly as he had arrived. Kira and Shuuhei, the only other people she felt she could talk with about this with had their own trials at the moment and she was loath to cause them any more worry.

That left Hitsugaya or Matsumoto and after their last disastrous conversation she hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to talk to him. She couldn’t make herself approach Matsumoto either; if she was going to talk to her she needed to get over her hesitation and just go talk to him. Then if she couldn’t get any answers, then she would stalk Matsumoto. She would tell him whatever they discussed anyway.

Only she hadn’t quite gotten to that point yet.

Instead she found herself out here on a rooftop, watching him train from a safe distance and ignoring the cold as best she could. It was, she decided, somewhat refreshing. Mostly though she was just cold, the only reason that her teeth weren’t chattering was the fact that she was cheating for all she was worth with some low level kidou. Captain Unohana wouldn’t necessarily yell at her if she managed to get chilled, but she the gentle tone and quiet discussion that would result from it was worse. It was more than just disappointing her. It was like she had personally let the kind fourth division captain down all by herself.

She briskly rubbed at her shoulders and shook her head at Toushirou. He had to be making it colder; she didn’t know why he was pushing himself so hard. Wished she was brave enough to go and ask him.

She sighed and stood quietly. The last time she had been out here, in the cold, watching the comings and goings of Soul Society. Captain Aizen had been with her and that was the root of all her problems. Captain Aizen… she sighed and glanced at the stars, always clearer when the summer haze disappeared from the sky. Maybe that was why Hitsugaya liked it so much; her lips quirked up a bit at the thought. Knowing him he just liked the cold, didn’t pay much attention to how it affected the things around him.

Maybe… maybe tomorrow she would be able to ask him.

[50 Scenes Table]

Tue, 11 Dec 2007 21:11:53 GMT

001.	Needles.	002.	Cold.	003.	Embryo.	004.	Paper.	005.	Chemical.
006.	Birthmark.	007.	Gasoline.	008.	Avarice.	009.	Guarded.	010.	Writer's Choice.
011.	Effulgent.	012.	Mist.	013.	Friction.	014.	Passenger.	015.	Stop.
016.	Nocturnal.	017.	Decadence.	018.	Lotus.	019.	Rental.	020.	Writer's Choice.
021.	Subliminal.	022.	Turquoise.	023.	Radical.	024.	Androgyny.	025.	View.
026.	Here.	027.	Dying.	028.	Lullaby.	029.	Overdrive.	030.	Writer's Choice.
031.	Response.	032.	Withdraw.	033.	Note.	034.	Idea.	035.	Abyss.
036.	Fever.	037.	Insomnia.	038.	Raw.	039.	Apple.	040.	Writer's Choice.
041.	Kiss.	042.	No Return.	043.	Masked.	044.	Homeland.	045.	Paranoid.
046.	Medication.	047.	Special.	048.	Saturnine.	049.	Sacrifice.	050.	Writer's Choice.