need to go roll in some wish and rival and flare

anonymous asked:

I'm guessing since the Horsemen are as independent as they are they show few people their homes without necessity, but what would it be like for their s/o to actually visit the Horsemen's home for the first time? What are all their homes like and can we get a quicl tour scenario? What would it take for them to actually open their homes to the person they care about most? I'd hope such a display of trust wouldnt be lost on their s/o! How do they feel about it... etc. etc. Hope your day is great!


Death: He had actually asked you

There was something in the looks the horseman had been sending you that day that probably should have clued you into the fact that he was thinking. Deeply. ‘But,’ you reason with yourself, ‘When is Death not thinking?’ 

Death’s thoughts had been circling around in his head for more than just a single day, however. He found himself contemplating how trustworthy you’d proven yourself to be. Time and again, your loyalty had moved, humbled and even enthralled the horseman. ‘If not Y/n,’ he speculates silently, ‘Then who?’ And at last, he’d asked. 

“Y/n?” The sound of your name makes your ear twitch and you spin around with an earnest smile, meeting Death’s extraordinary eyes with your own. He notes how his mood rises significantly whenever you look at him without fear, hate or indifference. But complete, and total admiration. Even, dare he hope, adoration. Focusing on the utterly obvious soft spot he has for you, Death continues… 

I’d like to show you something…..” 

All you can think of when he finally allows you to accompany him home is, ‘Wow, someone’s a minimalist.’ 

And it’s true. The eldest horseman’s home is modestly furnished, having only the bare essentials in way of comfort. There’s a four poster bed, built from old, dead wood. The same goes for the odd chair like structure in what you can only  assume is the sitting room. The walls of the house are a very odd, dark grey, resembling stone, but the surface is far colder than the stuff you’re used to. 

At least you can’t complain about the footing though. Throughout Death’s home, you discover that everything you walk upon feels as though you’re treading on the finest carpet in existence. Raising an eyebrow at the horseman, he shoots you a vaguely quizzical look before you ask him, “What is this?” Indicating the floor, Death follows your gaze and hums thoughtfully. 

“Fur,” he states simply. 

You blanch a little, “What?….All of it?” you demand incredulously, sweeping your eyes over the entire expanse of the ‘carpet’ that easily extends to the entirety of Death’s home. The horseman’s responding shrug does little to satiate your curiosity. 

Letting him get away with his incessant need to be cryptic, you place your hands on your hips and appraise the home around you. 

“It’s certainly….cozy,” you tease, earning a soft hum of laughter from Death as he catches your sarcasm. 

“What can I say,” he quips, “I’ll only adorn my home with the things I need.” 

You flash him a wide, devilish smirk. “Is that why you finally brought me here?” However, this time the horseman’s response makes you wipe the smirk off your face. 

“Perhaps,” he murmurs quietly, turning to stalk through the house into the arsenal, leaving you staring at him in wonder. 

War: Eventually, curiosity had overridden your overall uncertainty on the topic.

“War?” you call to the enormous horseman as he strides along behind you, “Where abouts are you from, anyway?” The casualness of the question takes him by surprise and you can almost feel the ground shake when he missteps. With a grunt, he responds, “I thought you knew? The Nephilim did not have a world of our own. So we-” 

“No, that’s not what I meant…” you interrupt, “I meant, where are you living? Now. Specifically. Like, if you were to say ‘my home is…’ where would that be exactly?” The horseman matches your stride so that he can properly give you a look dripping with suspicion. You, in turn, match his glare with a perfectly innocent one of your own. You know how mistrustful War can be. Even more so after the events that led to his false imprisonment. But slowly, you’ve begun to feel that he’s offering you more and more of himself the more you give him good reason to. Even though you’d helped him out exponentially after he came to Earth 100 years after it’s demise, he was still slow to trust.  

After a long moment, he seems to come to the conclusion that you’re worthy of such a trust, so he nods in understanding. 

“You wish to see the place that I call home?” he guesses correctly. Your eyes shine excitedly when he voices the question you’d been longing to ask him. 

“Oh yes! Yes please, War!” you clasp your hands as endearingly as possible and it doesn’t fail to drag a huffy laugh from his chest. 

It’s damn hard for the Red Rider to refuse you when he’d only just admitted to himself, albeit begrudgingly, that you are possibly the greatest friend he has. When you see his home for the first time, you’re struck by just how military it is. 

Well duh,’ you muse, ‘His name is War.’

The home itself boasts a grand entrance hall, trophy room, an entire floor upstairs for the bedroom, an armoury (of course) and an absolutely monstrous training room. You find that he’s laid down rugs of sorts, one in almost every room. They all belonged to both familiar demonic beasts and some you’d never seen before. His trophy room is full of heads, horns and even full sized, magically petrified creatures that War, at some point, had fought and slain. 

You take in the strong stone floors and high, sturdy walls with ardor whilst War watches. At last, you peer up at him with a wide smile on your face. “War, this place is amazing! I can’t believe I’m only just seeing it, did you build it yourself?” The horseman scowls, snorting at the assumption that he might have had help, so you throw him an apologetic look. He eyes you for a moment, his next question giving you pause.

“Do you…really like it?” He sounds so unsure of himself, like he really values your opinion on this matter. It’s enough to floor you. Grinning brightly and reassuringly, you nod enthusiastically. 

“Of course I do, War,” you promise. 

“Good,” he states, losing any trace of doubt that lingered in his voice moments before, “This is your home now as well.” 

Strife: He wouldn’t describe himself as a ‘home bird.’ The horseman would probably most attribute himself to the nomads of Earth. Those who wander and rarely settle, if ever. Yet…

“Surely you have somewhere to go when you’re not on Council business?” you  ask him, head leaning against his shoulder thoughtfully as he sits beside you on your sofa. Strife kicks his legs up and crosses them over one another on the coffee table, earning himself a glare from you. 

“Eh, I got a place,” he states nonchalantly.

Immediately, you perk up. “You do!? Where? Can you take me?” The horseman casts you a sidelong glance with a confused eyebrow raising at your sudden excitability. 

“Sure, I guess?” he says carefully, “Dunno why you wanna go though. Not much to see. I don’t spend a lot of time there-” 

“C’mon c’mon c’mon!” you squeak, ecstatic that he was so willing to show you his home. You leap up from the sofa and grab his hand, struggling to pull him up as he laughs and heaves himself off the cushions. 

You step through a portal and arrive at a place that…..honestly isn’t that overwhelming. 

“W-woah?” you stammer uncertainly, taking in the lush green landscape and half-built house that’s shadowed by thousand foot trees. If you didn’t know him better, you’d swear Strife was building on the Maker’s home world. The horseman shrugs at your reaction, undeterred. 

“I told you it wasn’t anything special.” He scuffed a steel toe at the stone scaffolding that holds up a particularly eye-catching pillar of marble. You’re 48% sure it’s marble. Strife watches you with a bored expression as you step forward and raise a hand to lay it flat against the smooth surface of the pillar. Your head swivels from side to side as you survey the interior of his home. Although only half finished, the foundations are strong, the walls are bright and eye-catching and there’s a very distinctive Strife flare. Perhaps in the way the whole thing’s direction is still so unclear, so unfinished and unwilling to be completed. Not even the house knows what it could be. 

Sadly, you turn to face the horseman and quirk a smile in his direction. His eyes roll but he doesn’t comment on your soft look. “I could help,” you ask timidly after a minute of quiet. Strife scoffs. 

“Oh yeah? Why?” His abrasive response causes you to frown slightly, but you remain otherwise steadfast in your own reply. 

You offer him a casual shrug. “Because I want to? Even you deserve a place to call home Strife,” you finish. The horseman’s eyes flash brightly in surprise for a moment before he chuckles deeply. Slinging an arm across your shoulders, he stands with you and stares up at the husk of a house. 

“Don’t need a place to call home when I’ve got you,” he flirts, making you grin widely and look away with a hot blush creeping up your cheeks. 

Fury: Like her eldest brother, Fury had been the one to ask if you wanted to see her home. Although, unlike Death, she hadn’t turned the decision over in her mind for days on end. Instead, one day she simply said to you ‘Oh! I’ve yet to show you where I live, Y/n.’ Not five minutes after she’d offered, you were strolling up to her front door. 

Of course her home is the most intricate place you’ve ever seen. You really oughtn’t have been so surprised at the sheer magnificence of it. Letting out a low whistle, “This place rivals the White City!” you nod decisively,  recalling the times when Azrael had kindly indulged you in your love of exploration. He’d been more than happy to give you a tour of his own home. 

The horseman claps you amiably on the back with a light laugh. “I should hope so,” she smiles, “I am glad you like it, Y/n.” She watches you with an all too fond grin as you skip through the enormous pearl coloured archway that leads directly into a lobby, framed by the most intricate Imperial staircase you’ve ever seen. She graciously shows you her home on a room to room basis. You see something akin to a kitchen, with a large open fireplace and ebony surfaces that decorate the back wall. She shows you her personal library, making you nearly faint in response. It almost makes up for half of her house, books lining each wall and stretching up to the ceiling high above you. Next, she shows you upstairs, where, curiously, you notice she’s installed devices that closely resemble those that might be found in a human bathroom.  

Quickly, Fury ushers you on, ignoring the questioning look you throw her way. 

“And this,” she declares, sweeping a wide arc with her hand at the final chamber, “will be our bedroom.” Fury turns to you and smiles down kindly, “What do you think?” 

Instead of answering straight away, you venture further into the room and marvel at the interior. There’s a wondrous, silken sheeted, queen sized bed laden with deep, wine red pillows. Velvety, purple curtains billow gently in the breeze, let in through a curved archway that leads out onto a wide balcony. Candles flicker, even now on every surface, creating a pleasant, warm light that makes you feel indescribably peaceful. 

“Your home is beautiful, Fury..” you breathe, finally turning to face her. The horseman’s face twists wryly when she realises you didn’t catch her earlier hint. With a flamboyant wave of her hand, she gestures around the room. 

Our home, Y/n,” the horseman corrects you gently, revelling in the way your eyes light up in realisation and elation. Suddenly, the bathroom makes sense.

Blood and Lust

Idea was what if Cullen went with the Inquisitor (When romanced) into the field. Originally, he’d be concerned about them until he saw how impressive their abilities were. -From @dapromptexchange I wanted a twist on this. What if Cullen saw her fighting and it turned him on. Hmm… so we have for your enjoyment: Cullen and my OC Diana Trevelyan. NSFW and I like it that way. Word count - 2929 (it kinda just ran from me, and that’s cool) Some mention of blood and gore, death, and smut. Under the cut for length. Thank you! AND tagging @princessvicky01 because she wanted to read this piece, so for you hun! Enjoy!

The entire journey to the Shrine of Dumat had been quiet. More so than she was used to and in stark contrast to the clatter of metal and scent of blood that awaited them at their destination. Cullen had been too focused on fighting, too honed-in on finding Samson that he didn’t even think about Diana while he hewed down red templar after red templar.

Searching the burning ruins, it became reality that once again, Samson had evaded him. Once again just outside of his reach. Collecting everything they could use they settled camp a few kilometers from the smoking building.

Everyone was on high alert and exhausted from their fight having also endured the thrum of red lyrium. Cullen in particular, found his mood much improved once he put distance between himself and the angry crystal. Taking shifts, they all kept vigil less any of the red templars were lurking in the near by woods. To his surprise it was an uneventful evening. With everyone rested they began the trek back to Skyhold. It would take several days and while there was no immediate rush, Cullen couldn’t shake the feeling they were being followed.

“We are being followed,” Diana lowered her voice as she steered her horse close to his, “they intend to ambush us at the pass, ahead.” She maintained her calm demeanor as she smiled, “don’t fuss too much, they’ll know we’re on to them. I haven’t got a proper count of their numbers but I believe we are out numbered.” Looking back over her shoulder she smiled to Bull, “the Commander wishes to stop up head, he needs a moment.” Turning back, she hissed, “play along.”

“Yes, if you don’t mind of course,” Cullen nodded over his shoulder. The hairs on his neck were standing as he followed Diana’s lead. Hoping down from his horse he handed the reigns to Diana. “I don’t understand your plan.”

Stifling a giggle, she tied the horses together and passed the reigns around a tree along their path, “take the advantage away. If we linger, they will grow impatient. Striking us in anger and hurry, losing their edge. It may not be a perfect win, but it assures us less aches come the morning.” The others clattered up to them jumping from their horses. “Be ready, it won’t be long. The fat one over there just sneezed,” she lilted her head towards a massive oak. “There’s at least a dozen of them, if not more. I can’t be sure. Lost count last night.”

“Last night?” Cullen half squeaked out as his thumb traced the pommel of his hilt. He had thought they had been lucky to walk away from the Shrine with no one giving chase. Now here was Diana pointing out too much for his brain to focus on.

Clicking her tongue Diana patted his arm, “don’t take it personally, Commander, you are an ex-templar not a seasoned tracker. I’m sure only the Dalish rival my skills. Now if I were you,” she pulled her sword and unhooked her buckler from her shoulder, “I would prepare. This is going to be a close one. Thankful they didn’t bring any archers.”

No sooner had she leveled her shield did the red templars spring from the woods. Cullen braced himself best he could but panic rose in his chest. In the rush before he hadn’t seen her skill, and while her tracking and estimates of the red templars were accurate, could she back that with sword skill. His questions were being answer before him as she charged the first soldiers, her blade glinting in the late morning sun.

Shields clashed as she slammed head long into the templar. Not risking a power struggle, she slammed into his shield and using the momentum, sprang off her feet and rolled around him. With no time to react she quickly found the weak spot in his armor and drove her blade in deep. Crimson splattered down the grooves of the blade, splashing along her gloved hand and the dirt path.

Cullen couldn’t help the swell filling his chest and travelling even lower. There was a fluidic and gracefulness to her movements. Acrobatic strength and raw beauty as she dealt death. Giving his head a shake he refocused on the men pouring from the woods.

Magic and metal singed and sang as they battled on. Smoke and blood filling the air as their group dealt measured death. Diana felt herself tiring, “we need to finish this, Dorian!”

Keep reading


[I thought it was about time James had to deal with Jihoon’s grumpy ass again XDD]

He still had that stupid business card, for some reason he hadn’t thrown it away but he still swore that he wasn’t going to use it. He swore that he wasn’t going to go to James for any sort of help, not even the tiniest of things, but as it started to piss down with rain while he was busking he was left with little choice on where to shelter from the downpour until it ended. 

He had tried to go into a couple of shops only to be kicked out, for loitering and making customers uncomfortable with his rumpled appearance, and so he was already scowling as he stepped into the official looking building of Anderson toys. He didn’t really know what he was going to do, whether he was just going to try and lie low so that no one had to know he was even there or not, but before he could even try he was being called out to by the well dressed woman at the reception desk and told that he was getting the floor wet.

“No shit” he rolled his eyes, his scowl growing darker as he looked at the woman behind the counter. He was soaked through, freezing cold and starving fucking hungry, he didn’t need some stuck up bitch pointing out the obvious “It’s not like it’s raining or anything”

The woman was obviously far from happy about him being there, just about ready to kick him out too, so before she could even gesture to the security guard who was watching him wearily he spoke up once more.

“I’m here to see James, got it? So call him or whatever the hell your job is meant to be” He didn’t want to see James exactly, he didn’t want to give the satisfaction of having turned up at all, but he also didn’t want to get thrown out in the rain again. He was already getting sick, his body run down and he knew that he had been slowly growing hotter as a fever continued to form from the night before, and the cold rain was just going to make that worse.

The woman looked like she could start laughing, standing up from her seat behind the counter, she had a pretty face but the way she acted completely contradicted any beauty she could have held.

There is no way Mr Anderson would waste his time with a street rat like you, he has much more important things to tend to”

Yeah, sure, whatever, she was probably right.

It had been a while since James had last run into Jihoon, a very long time in fact. It seemed for a while that the world was conspiring to have them meet and talk and then suddenly nothing. The CEO knew that the younger male had his number and the offer of an interview but as time past by and he made no appearance, he gave up on any thought that the male would ever show. Jihoon was probably just relieved to finally be free from the demon and the ‘pity’ he felt James was always showing to him.

The morning the male had finally chosen to turn up was a morning that James had been in a meeting over extending their line and stocking in other and rival stores for a cut. It was something he had been thinking about for a while and so in the end, some of the original creations of his team would be stocked in other stores. He wanted to bring his toys to the world and spark the imaginations of many.

Upon his return, fingers gripping at the copy of a contract, his attention is quickly pulled away by the sound of two familiar voices and he is immediately speeding up, nostrils flaring in a rarely seen anger.

“Mrs Park!” The demon barked towards the secretary in obvious anger. “That is no way to behave to anybody who comes in here wishing to see me.” Even if the person she was so cold to was someone he didn’t know, this was still something that he simply wouldn’t stand for. “I invited this gentleman here to see me and if anybody and I mean anybody comes here wishing to see me, you treat them with the respect. I am extremely disappointed in you.” He was finally calming after his little outburst or at least he was calming to control it and stop his louder words. “We will speak about this later.” He warned.

His attention soon turned to Jihoon and he was quick to bow. “Please accept my apologies. That type of behavior is not welcome here and I assure you she will be reprimanded for it.” He shot her another dirty look before gesturing for the male to follow him into his office.

What Could Have Been

Hello SasuHina submarine! OMG I love you all so much! So much creativity that no one let the ending of the series end this ship. So for some reason I felt the need to do a what if scenario, or more like showing the two what could have been and I came up with this while listening to Wish from the Final Fantasy 13 soundtrack i think…anyways…please enjoy this…remember a submarine is unsinkable…lol 

It had been an accident; a mere brush of the fingers, a moment of poignant warmth and contact so foreign, that the world had felt born anew.

The spilled macha tea continued lazily across the cherry wood table of the Uzumaki-Hyuuga living room, the delicately wrought clay saucer cracked in two. 

How could a simple invitation to tea go so wrong? All she had wanted was to get to know her the man her husband cared for so much.

The dark stain stood out on the sleeve of her lovely, indigo threaded kimono, contrasting with the curling dark green tendrils of Osmunda ferns etched in silk.

Hinata gazed at the taciturn man before her, his normally stoic expression showing widened eyes and a crazed look sparking to life and she wondered if he had seen the exact same thing she had.

 A blazing hearth and pale skin jealously consumed by his pale lips, running course up and down her slim neck. Hands intertwined, a scent that smelled of rain and thunder, charged with energy and anticipation…foreboding and possibility.

He sighed her name, beautiful in its every nuanced syllable…he whispered it as she arched into him, and they became whole…


S-sasuke-san…I..I…“ She stuttered, a habit pulled back from the depths of her genin days because she had no idea what the HELL had just happened. 

"What. did. you. do.”

He seethed, gritting out his words, bile rising up in his throat as he could feel his desire rising. Guilt clawed at his chest, gnawing and mixing dangerously with his lust. 

This was his BEST friend’s wife, mother to his godchildren and for heaven’s sake, he was with Sakura and the image of broken and betrayed dark eyes made him seethe. 

His daughter…how could he betray her so, how could one second of contact…one genjutsu-filled image cast by the Hyuuga temptress-

And he stopped because he finally took note of his companion’s pale face and trembling hands. It was then he knew that she was innocent.


He said her maiden name out of habit, refusing to call out for fear that he would say her first name in the same way as in the dream…refusing to give in to the overwhelming desire of the strange vision…and yet his heart raced as soft lilac eyes looked up at him in fear, confusion laced through her expression and her small frame shaking with…guilt.

Curiosity overtook him, and without another word, he grabbed her slim wrist, pressing a calloused finger from his right hand to feel the pulse of just at the base of her thumb.

It was instant and stronger this time. They were pulled into a place existing only in the realms of possibility, the space between one letter and the next…a dream.

It was raining. They were outside, warm cloaks and apparel only slightly shielding them both as they made their way through the slushy mud trail, unkempt and hardly used. The vivid green of the forest was made all the more sharp, the droplets bouncing off every sharp corner and leaf and stone.

Hinata laughed, tipping her head back, her hood falling off to let loose her wildly cascading hair, the dark waves tumbling down her back like liquid silk. 

Sasuke thought she was beautiful…even as her tears mixed with the rain, and rolled down her flushed cheeks.

He didn’t ask her why she was crying. It could have been any number of things…the Hyuuga clan was fixed, Naruto had rejected her confession, her cousin had died only months ago…

He didn’t need to know why, only that as the tears rolled down and she danced in the rain, electricity crackling at her finger tips, he thought she finally looked free.

His grip tightened, and for all the reality that was waiting to crash down upon them, he brought up his bandages hand to grip her own tighter, to drown himself in the shared dream.

She did the same.

The moon loomed large and the snow continued to fall. Hinata stared in fear as the meteorites headed for Konoha in the distance. She lurched forward, cries ripping from her throat…

“Hanabi! Father!”

“Hinata!” Sasuke called desperately after her, for once struggling to keep up as she pushed chakra into her legs, her aura flaring and his hair standing on end at the sheer force of her energy.

He tackled her to the ground, lifting himself over her sprawled form. He grimaced as the searing heat of the meteorite blazed over them. He could smell the scent of singed hair and cloth.

It crashed just a few meters away, a steaming crater the size of a small house now in place where they had almost been.

Quickly he took off his cloak, beating out the flames and rolled her over to check for injuries, his one hand frantically patting to and fro.

She blinked blearily up at him, confusion and slight annoyance tinging her expression.

“WHY?! We have to go! They’re in trouble!” She struggled against his grip, ready to fly recklessly into battle.

“You fucking idiot.” He grit out, and pulled her into a tight and worried embrace. And he buried his nose in her hair, the scent of rain quelling the fear and his racing heart.

He laced his fingers with hers, there eyes looking into nothingness. They drew closer, unseeing.

“So he saved the world again.”

“You protected the village. You helped.”

“So did you.”

“I failed her, my sister.

She hugged herself tighter, her face smudged and the self-hatred so evident on her face made him understand.

"You got her back.”

“And you’ll leave again..” She whispered, her heart breaking.

Sasuke’s eyes widened, his next action clear and so perfectly logical, that he did it without a second thought.

“Come with me.”


“Exactly what I’m saying, come with me, Hinata.”

“But I…”

“Unless, there’s something you need to do here.” He said it gruffly, with little emotion, but Hinata smiled because she knew him too well. 


“…I guess, this is…goo-

"N-no! I meant yes, I will come with you!”

The blush on her face was adorable, and she realized he had been joking with her. She broke into laughter and he joined, a soft chuckling that was the most welcome noise in the world. It sounded like home.

They were mere inches from each other, and white searched black for meaning and possibility. Their heads tilted, the sharp, fresh scent of rain and lightening filling their senses and a heady feeling of fulfillment rushed through them. The compunction to touch, to feel, to see the possibilities pushed them forwards, ever so slowly…fingers gripping tightly to keep them anchored not to reality, but to a dream…a melancholy wish ringing with love and a connection so ridiculously deep, that it hurt to even think of breaking it…

Hinata’s eyes slid shut…Sasuke’s followed suit…but at the back of their haze rested a building pressure, a nagging pounding, a reminder of things they both cherished…

But still they drew closer and closer…

A rainy wedding day, a rushed ceremony, a warm kiss that tasted of sunlight and hope…

Shared moments of love and pain, lackadaisical walks through Konoha and wherever they wished…a freedom so nostalgic, that it ached to think of parting with it. 

Hands intertwined tightly as she screamed. Her body aching, every bone and every muscle tensed to bring home a gift.

And tiny fingers, a beautiful baby girl with dark hair and scrunched up eyes…

She was beautiful, everything they had ever dreamed of. Her name was-



Their eyes shot open, reality crashing down around them like meteorites through the clouds. Hinata’s eyes widened till all he could see was white…she was so close…so very close..

And the she screamed, falling over in her haste to put as much distance between them as possible.

She clutched the strands of her hair, her body shaking, her breath becoming quicker and more shallow…

“…I love Naruto…Himawari…Bolt…”

She muttered it to herself and Sasuke ever the quick thinker, grabbed her shoulders, shaking the poor woman.

“Hinata! Snap out of it! ”

She gasped once and took a deep breath, slowly letting go of her lengthy hair.

“W-what just happened? What was that?! What did you do.."She trailed off, looking in fear at the man whom she had always only known as her husband’s best friend, his rival…that was all…so that future…had been…

"I did nothing” He whispered bitterly, now fully awake and confused as all hell. He ran an agitated hand through his hair, frowning.

They were interrupted by the sound of a door slamming, and the pitter patter of small feet rushing through the entry way.

“Mom, we’re home!” Cried her son, and she remembered the joy she felt on the day he was born…her baby boy…

“Mommy…we bought flowers!”

“Hmm. That’s weird, those are Dad’s shoes…DAD!?”

And Sasuke quickly separated himself from his host, smoothing down his clothes and quickly assuming his typical distant expression, showing nothing and giving away little.

Naruto showed up just a few minutes later, inviting Sasuke to stay for dinner with the largest grin on his face. And Sasuke declined, avoiding looking at the Hokage’s wife…guilt and some odd kind of nostalgic longing plaguing him.

He stepped out of the house, his daughter in tow. And as if to make it up to her, he smiled a rare smile, because she was precious little girl…and it would be hell or high water before he let his family fall apart due to some stupid weird magic dream.

But as they stepped out into the sunshine, he couldn’t help but miss the rain…

Hinata gazed after the two. Her children were in the back, surely up to no good  mischief. Just like their father…an affectionate smile crossed her face, but even as she told herself that nothing had happened and that it was a beautiful day…

She couldn’t help but miss the rain…and her fingers reached for the unseen possibility of what could have been.