The Pact

Hello everyone!

EDIT! I've changed up the summary, because I didn't like the old one as much. Still the same story though! Sorry for any confusion.

I've finally decided to start posting my fics. *GASP*

Anyways, I'd like to mention some things right from the get-go: anachronisms and the like.

Anachronisms is where you're talking/writing about history, but you do something that doesn't match up. (Think an Egyptian Pharaoh downloading music onto his iPod.) Sometimes these are used humorously, but sometimes they'll upset a history buff. Now, I don't plan on messing with the Medieval Era that much, but there's a few things I want to change for the sake of an interesting story. This story is primarily set in the Medieval Era (1100-1500), but when you get right down to it, the Middle Ages were pretty nitty-gritty, and I wanted to make this a "pretty" fic. XD

So I'll be adding a few aspects from the Stuart Period (early 1600's) which had prettier clothes, castles, and probably better plumbing, too. And no famine/Black Plague. XD But I like the whole jousting and dragons and maidens thing, so the main time era will be Medieval.

Another thing that will be hugely missing is the religion. Religion was practically everything in the Middle ages. You couldn't do crap against the Bible without a ton of consequences. (Or unless you worked something out with a priest—yeah, it got pretty twisted.) Anyways, seeing as I don't have much Christian religious experience, I chose not to mention it that much. I felt it sort of took away from the plot and I just wanted to write the damned thing, so yeah.

Also tweaked: medical concepts, knighthood, marriage, the Old English language (which is difficult to write/understand and you good people just want a fic, right?). And rigor mortis, too, but we'll get into that later. XD

I will try to keep everyone in character (crosses fingers) but one person I've personally written OOC is Hanabi. I like her when she's nicer to Hinata, and since Hiashi's not in this fic, she wouldn't be influenced as much by him, etc.

I don't own any of the characters…nor do I own the Middle Ages…

Anyways, without further ado, I humbly present this fanfiction. Hope you enjoy! :)

Chapter 1: The Beginning

"I'm dying," she said softly.

Though her words were but a croaked whisper, they silenced the entirety of the sole occupant of the room. The man's eyes flashed over to her, a mix of emotions. Emotions such as anger.

"She did this to you, didn't she?" he demanded quietly, not wanting to upset his wife. "That wretched witch?"

She gave a weak cough that rustled the thick blankets. "You should not speak of my kind like that, Seidon."

The man was silent, then spoke:

"You would never curse someone for being unable to cure their son."

The dying woman's eyes were fixed on the canopy that draped over the bed. "I cannot say that…no illness has ever threatened our son, my dear. Would the tragedy of losing a child drive one of us…to committing a similar act?"

Her husband silently walked next to her bed and sat down beside her. "You tried, Sora," he said gently. "You tried to cure him."

The pale woman closed her eyes. "Her son was already gone by the time I reached him. There was nothing…nothing I could have done. But still, it pains me…that boy did not deserve to die."

"Neither do you," he insisted, eyes anguished. "Why…why can't you heal it? Why can't you heal yourself? You've saved so many lives in your lifetime, Sora! Why you?"

She sighed sadly. "The curse that was placed on me was very powerful, Seidon…even I can't counter it. It is a terminal curse, one cast out of grief. We can't understand…what she's feeling right now. It must be terrible, her pain…but I still wish…I wish I could have lived longer to see little Kouga grow up…with you. Promise me you'll take care of him, Seidon…"

Seidon rested his hand over his wife's. "Of course I will take care of him, Sora."

She smiled. "Someday, he will make a great king, just like his father."

A single tear slid down the man's face. "I will avenge you, Sora…I will not let your legacy be that of a defeated queen."

"Chiyo is a powerful witch. Please do not provoke her, Seidon…I don't want anything to happen to you or Kouga. Please be safe," she whispered. Her voice was growing softer.

"You said even a powerful witch couldn't perform a terminal curse twice in five years," he protested, leaning closer to her. He could feel her heartbeat slowing down as he squeezed her hand.

"There…there are other spells that can inflict much suffering. I don't want you to get hurt…"

"I won't."

She smiled weakly. "Fearless as always, my brave king." Another cough wracked her frail body. "I love you."

"Sora…"

"Thank you, Seidon," she breathed, through half-hooded eyes. Her lashes brushed against her cheeks as they slowly closed.

"Sora," he said quietly, voice growing panicked.

"Sora!"

"Answer me, Sora!"

Pulling her into his arms, the king yelled her name over and over until he wasn't even addressing his queen anymore. He shouted to the canopy, to the ceiling, to anyone that would listen, that his wife had been murdered. Had been robbed of her life by one of own kind. And once he could no longer make his voice produce more than a whisper, he wept for the first time in twenty-two years.

He would not have her buried.

He couldn't stand the thought of his beautiful wife being eaten by insects and other things that crawled through the earth.

The mahogany coffin had been lined with velvet and her lifeless hands rested on top of a bouquet of lavender, her favorite, the color of her eyes. Lavender was difficult to obtain in the desert but he had it done. He did not let himself twirl a strand of her dark hair between his fingers as he used to. He could only watch as she was fed into the hungry fire, flames licking the polished wood.

Beside him stood his general and friend, silent. The two men did not exchange so much as a glance as the coffin was reduced to ash, soundlessly mourning the deceased woman.

Kagami Uchiha watched the ash float upwards. Sora was truly a wonderful person. A good witch, a powerful healer. She'd once helped his wife through her difficult pregnancy. Though his wife did not survive the birthing of their beautiful baby girl, Sora had stayed by her side the entire time, providing as much relief as she could. In a sense, she was the child's aunt, though not by blood. Something much stronger than blood.

He was currently holding little Uruchi's hand as she clutched his pant leg. The small girl was too young to understand; she kept glancing up at her father concernedly and tugging at his hand.

After the ceremony the king slowly walked to the remains. He bowed his head in a silent prayer and knelt, scooping some of the ashes into a tiny glass bottle. Soundlessly, he pushed the cork into place and stood, staring up at the sky. When he turned back to Kagami, they exchanged a look that unmistakably could mean only one thing.

Revenge.

The auburn-haired man collapsed as a violent cough splattered blood across the cold desert sand. He could see his accomplice's convulsing form a ways away from him, bathed in moonlight.

"What did you do to him?!" he shouted, struggling to stand. "What did you do to him, you bitch!"

"I've transformed him, and the spell will carry to his brat as well," the woman hissed, clutching her bleeding shoulder, breath labored. "You should be more concerned with yourself, your Majesty," The witch closed her eyes and began to recite what must have been incantation. Her eyes flashed open, glowing an unholy white as her lips moved silently and furiously. She dragged her body over to him, still chanting, until her mouth moved in shouts. A wrinkled, leathery hand shot forward at the climax of the shouting and grabbed his head in a vice-like grip. She screamed the final word of her curse as a light blinded his vision and embedded hot coals in his mind. Acid ran through his blood as he felt the poison spreading rapidly through every fiber of his being, engulfing him as though he was being burned by the flames of Hell themselves. More blood was hacked from his burning lungs as he fell to his knees, screaming and fisting his hands in his hair. His agony lasted for what felt like a thousand lifetimes. He and the witch fought to remain conscious; he from the pain, and she from the exhaustion of two powerful curses. On his stomach, drenched in sweat, he dragged himself over to her. Seidon raised the knife from his belt with trembling fingers, teeth clenched.

The witch barely felt the dagger that pierced her heart.

And then everything went dark.

When he regained consciousness, the sun was rising over the desert dunes.

"Kagami?" he croaked, wincing. His throat was a dry as a bone and was hoarse from his screams.

Seidon raised his head weakly and scanned his surroundings. Kagami was nowhere to be seen; in his place, lay a monster.

"Kagami?"

The scaled beast could only move his head a fraction of an inch. He attempted to smile but couldn't, his lips only twitched.

"Sei…don," he wheezed.

"Kagami!" The man tried to stand but collapsed in the sand. "NO!"

"You were…a good friend, Seidon," he whispered. "Better…than I ever deserved…"

"Don't say things like that, Kagami!"

"Heh…Kagami the Avenger, that's…that's what they always called me, Seidon…but I…failed…"

"We killed her, Kagami," he breathed. "We killed the witch."

The dragon's eyes glazed over. "That's…good, Seidon…take care…of Uruchi, for me…"

The king's eyes flashed. "No, Kagami, you're not going out on me here," he said quickly. "I…I can't. I can't lose you two like this…I can't!"

The ruby-red eyes slid over to him and then, the bottled ashes. "Let's meet again, Seidon…the…the three of us. In another life, in...another time. Let's meet again someday."

His eyes then glazed over completely, never completely shutting, oblivious to his comrade's hoarse screams.

And thus, the pact was made.

..

….

…..

SIX

HUNDRED

YEARS

LATER

…..

….

..

Once upon a time, there existed a lush and prosperous kingdom. In that kingdom, which was known as Konoha, lived a beautiful princess. She had long, indigo hair and pale, lavender eyes. By far, she was the fairest maiden in the land. Rumor had it, that she could soften even coldest, hardest of hearts with her gentle kindness and beauty.

Her name, was Hinata.

In that kingdom also lived a knight, who served for the crown. He had been exiled from his kingdom of birth and sought refuge in Konoha. The stoic, red-haired man had been born with a curse, rendering him strong yet feared. He rested below the radar, never attracting much attention to himself, despite his potency.

His name, was Gaara.

In that land of knights and princesses, there were also, of course, fearsome dragons. Konoha had enjoyed a rather dragon-free past. However, not many moons ago, a particularly powerful, particularly indifferent, dragon had installed himself in an abandoned castle unfortunately close to poor Konoha.

His name, was Sasuke.

It was he who'd heard her first.

He, perched in the tall, gnarled oak-tree not far from the knight's shared quarters, who heard the faint voice of someone singing.

Needless to say, it'd been another sleepless night for the red headed insomniac. He'd been fiddling with his sword, making it reflect the moon's pale rays, when he caught a snippet of a voice drifting on the crisp evening air.

Curiosity piqued the slightest bit, he strained his ears to see if he could hear more of the voice, and, possibly, discern whose voice, exactly, it was.

The knight sighed after several moments of effort. He knew it was useless from where he was currently situated; unless he changed locations, it would remain that way.

Seeing as he had nothing better to really do, he decided to investigate the source of the singing. Gaara dismounted the tree at an unconcerned pace and sheathed his sword. From there, he began to walk in the direction of the voice.

It wasn't long before the notes began to grow clearer as he drew near. It was melodic, the voice, and though Gaara didn't care much for music, he decided he didn't mind the voice.

The castle was quite large, as most castles are. Despite this, it didn't take the knight long to walk the perimeter. He stopped when the huge stone wall began obstructing his view. Taking several paces away, he craned his neck, took more steps, and finally, he could see a young woman's figure at the top of a balcony. From the side, at least. Long hair, pale skin…ah, the elder of the two princesses, Hinata-sama.

Why was she singing? He did not understand. He did not understand many things about princesses to begin with. Most of them were very fussy, and far too delicate. Vain. Bossy.

Hanabi-sama was mischievous, to say the least.

But Hinata…once, he'd bumped into her during a changing of the guard, and she apologized. And asked if he was alright, even though it was she sprawled on the floor. Hanabi would have most likely yelled at him, perhaps have him punished.

And yet she asked if was alright. He did not understand.

He also did not understand why he kept returning, night after night, to hear the princess sing.

It was he who heard her second.

The air had been warm yet cool. Gentle with just enough of a current glide along with ease. In other words, ideal flying conditions.

There were not too many stars out that night, so the deep blue dragon concealed nicely into the inky nighttime sky. He wasn't exactly sure why he went out that night. Perhaps to explore the area, perhaps to take advantage of the night's balmy air. The evening breeze felt good against his scales.

His sharp ears first detected the voice from about five kilometers away. A maiden's.

A smirk tugged at the monster's lips, perhaps she would be tasty. He wasn't feeling particularly hungry, as he had just devoured a small flock of sheep a few hours ago. Maybe this maiden would be lucky. Maybe he'd spare her for another day, when he was more peckish.

The dragon made a lazy turn in the sky and flew in the direction of the voice.

It'd been a while since he'd last had a fresh maiden…the most recent was some sacrifice a village had made to appease him. He didn't recall much about the girl: her hair was brown, mousey…average height. Plain-looking. A peasant girl. She made an okay snack, nothing special. Her scream was shrill and irritating.

This new voice was different, though. Definitely more pleasant to listen to. Not that he really cared.

A castle came into view. Standing on a balcony, completely vulnerable, was the maiden.

Tch, how stupid of her, the dragon thought to himself. She's left herself completely exposed.

He wheeled in the sky, coming back for another pass. As long as he kept his flapping to a minimum, he could go by unnoticed.

The monster debated the maiden's fate. Should he just eat her now? Or go for the full theatrics, with all that clichéd fire breathing and the pleas for help?

She's lucky I'm not hungry.

Besides, her voice wasn't unpleasant…he decided to let her live, on a whim.

Nothing more, nothing less.

This is what he kept telling himself when he returned each night.

"Have you asked King Neji to consider letting you become a knight?" Sakura asked, as she ladled hot pottage into a bowl.

Tenten sighed, accepting the bowl. "Not yet. I'm practicing my swordsmanship in private, so I can really show him I've got what it takes!"

"I guess that makes sense," Sakura responded, smoothing her worn apron.

"I'm just not cut out for housework. I need adventure! I need excitement! I'm totally going to going to be the first she-knight in Konoha."

"What if you asked Hinata-sama to throw in a good word for you? I'm sure she would do it."

"Yeah, that's a good idea…well, I'm gonna go eat this now, before it gets cold. Seeya!"

Tenten made her way over to the knight's table. Technically, she was supposed to sit with the other maids, but she had a rebellious streak a mile wide. She snatched Kiba's roll off his plate as she sat down.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Give that back."

"I'll split it with you," she teased, waving it in front of his face. "They were all out by the time I got through the line."

"No way! I have to already share that with Akamaru, he loves Sakura's rolls."

Tenten relented and tossed it back, with a humph.

"Don't give me that look…here, take Gaara's!" The canine-lover suggested, gesturing to the untouched bun next to the redhead. Said redhead didn't even acknowledge his name being mentioned. He was staring off into space, silent.

"Oi! Gaara!" Kiba shouted.

At this, the red-haired man slid his eyes over to the rest of the group.

"Can Tenten have your roll? It doesn't look like you're eating it."

He nodded once, distantly muttering a 'yes.'

Kiba reached across the table, over Naruto, and grabbed the bun. Gaara went back to staring blankly at nothing in particular. The brown-haired knight noticed this and leaned over to Naruto.

"Gaara's been sort of…quiet this week. Like, spooky-quiet," Kiba whispered.

Naruto laughed, apparently forgetting this was a whisper-conversation. "Don't mind him, he's always like that!"

Kiba wasn't sure, but he shrugged it off.

Rumor had it, that before Gaara had come to Konoha, he was rather ruthless. Cruel, even. He'd grown so uncontrollably violent that he was exiled from Suna, and began raiding villages and other bandits. Some said he even took on high-status mercenary jobs, such as the assassination of nobles.

Naruto had encountered him in a forest one day, on a hunting trip by himself. No one really knew what events transpired that fateful day, but somehow, both men survived, and managed to become mutual friends.

The blonde brought Gaara back with him. Here, he practically had to beg Neji to let him enroll as a knight of Konaha. The King reluctantly agreed, seeing as they could always use more soldiers, and this soldier already possessed…a very specific skill set.

Namely, fighting and killing.

Neji was well aware of the rumors centered on the 'Monster of Suna.' It was for this reason he kept the both of his beloved cousins away from the red-haired man. For their own safety.

Needless to say, shrouded in danger and mystery, Gaara did not have many friends. The excitable blonde was always there for him, and he got along with other knights…but with the exception of Naruto, he never really felt like he fit in.

He observed how Naruto would make fast, lasting friendships with just about anyone. Gaara would watch from the sidelines, how the blonde interacted with other. He made it look so easy…

Gaara would also watch the princess. How she managed to treat everyone with an equal amount of respect, be they of noble descent or but a lowly servant. He'd watch her smile so effortlessly, even the simplest of things made her happy…

He was roused from his thoughts abruptly by someone tugging on his arm.

"Are you deaf?" Naruto asked, eyes wide. "We've gotta go train now!"

"Indeed we must!" piped Lee. "Come, my brethren, as we—"

Tenten interrupted Lee's long-winded speech. "I wish I could go with you guys," she sulked.

Shikamaru sighed. "I suppose you could train later on this evening, once you've finished with your duties. I'll leave the weapons shed unlocked for you."

Tenten's eyes lit up. "Thanks, Shikamaru, you're the best!" She ran off to get ready for her work, eager to finish early.

"Troublesome woman," he muttered, standing up.

Princess Hinata awake in her soft, canopy bed, bright and early as always. Ino came in, pushing a small trolley with tea and breakfast on a tray.

"Good morning, milady," Ino greeted cheerfully.

"Ino-chan, I've t-told you before, p-please just call me Hinata," the princess stated softly.

"Heh heh, sorry 'bout that, Hina-chan. I guess I'm just used to addressing you in front of the King."

Hinata blushed. "I s-see."

Ino poured the tea. "So, are you or aren't you excited about your birthday coming up?" the blonde gushed.

The Hyuga nodded, smiling. "Neji-niisan s-says there will be a j-jousting tournament and everything," she said excitedly. "And a ball at the v-very end, on the n-night of my birthday."

She nibbled at her cinnamon bun as Ino plunked down on the bed, flipping her hair.

"Speaking of fabulous evening events, you have to see the dress we've been working on. It's our best one yet—I can't wait to see you wear it!"

Hinata smiled at her friend's dramatics. Ino said that about nearly every dress they made for her.

"I'm s-sure it will be very b-beautiful. You always d-do a wonderful job."

Ino beamed. "Aw, thanks, Hina! Hey, have you picked out a theme for the ball yet?"

"I'd l-like to do masquerade, I t-think." She finished her breakfast and climbed out of bed. Ino led her over to her wardrobe, flinging it open. She began to flick through the dresses.

"Hmm…you should wear…this one!" Ino pulled out a satin dress in pale yellow, holding it up. "With…these shoes!" She produced a pair of daffodil heels.

"U-um…perhaps a little l- less height," Hinata suggested.

Ino put them back and whipped out another pair of shoes, this time, marigold slippers with a bit of a raised heel.

"Perfect," she said, smiling.

The blonde dropped the shoes onto an ottoman and went to go get a corset. Hinata sighed. She never liked corsets.

She took off her nightie and slipped on a similar under gown, lifting her arms. Ino wrapped the corset around her back and laced it up in the front. Loosely at first, then tighter, and tighter, until—

"T-that…that's enough!" the princess gasped. Ino giggled and tied a bow.

At last the dress was slipped over top, with full length sleeves and and straight skirt that fell to her ankles. Hinata enjoyed the neckline; a paler yellow, for it was very modest and didn't show anything. Conservative clothing always made her feel the most comfortable.

As she was putting on her shoes, Ino was debating between two necklaces.

"Tanzanite or sapphire?" she asked, hefting each one.

Hinata looked at them both. "Um…sapphire, p-please."

She smiled warmly as Ino fastened the thin, silver chain around her neck. Today was more birthday preparations, a well-deserved break from her usual royal duties.

Sasuke's tail flicked about in an annoyed manner. He'd counted and recounted his treasure, eaten a handful of pasture animals, (a cow, three sheep and even the shepherd dog when it barked incessantly at him), and cleared out some of the debris in his castle.

None of his treasure was missing. He wasn't hungry, and his home was looking better by the minute.

Why was he not content? It was as though he'd forgotten something.

An image of the maiden popped into his mind.

Ah yes, her, I haven't eaten her yet.

And yet for some reason, he felt this wasn't it.

Was she a witch? Did she curse me? Was her singing actually some witchcraft chant? No, she was singing before I came…

Besides, he had only detected a tidbit of magic on her…considerably more than the average human, but not nearly enough to even being close to a witch. There was the ping he'd felt when he flew over the forest, but not enough to look into.

No, she wasn't a witch, and yet, he felt, she'd left some sort of mark on him.

He never suspected it had absolutely nothing to do with magic.

The strike to target dummy was forceful enough to make it spin and flail wildly. The redhead dodged, repositioned, and parried. The practice dummies weren't much of an opponent. A real opponent thinks. A real opponent would try to kill you.

Unless, of course, you killed him first.

And that's why I'm still here, isn't it? he thought grimly.

Gaara let himself slip from the mundane combat practice into the comforting arms of his musings, oblivious to the world around him.

That day he helped her up, her hand was soft, he remembered. Much smaller than his own. He remembered the way she stuttered out a 'sorry,' blushing and flustered, thanking him for helping her up, before scurrying away like a frightened doe.

Was he supposed to have said something? Naruto probably would have. What would Naruto have done?

A long time passed by without his realization. Once he noticed people beginning to pack up for lunch, he slung his sword over his shoulder, and went over to the weapon's rack. The rack was simply a splintering roof supported by four slim, wooden posts. Shikamaru had said they needed to have it replaced or it'd collapse soon, but also said he was too lazy to do anything about it.

Gaara was absent-mindedly wrapping his sword in its piece of protective cloth when he heard her voice. He looked up. She was about a hundred yards away, discussing something with Asuma, a veteran knight. Asuma now mostly helped organize events and festivals. He was also a marshal at jousting tournaments. The man was gesturing at a field with one hand while the other cradled his beloved pipe.

"Hey."

Gaara's head swiveled; he stopped tying the cloth in place with twine.

"Whoa, whoa, no need to freak out on me here." The intruder raised her hands in a harmless gesture.

"Hanabi-sama," he deadpanned.

"That's me," she replied, grinning.

"What are you doing here." His voice was blunt and uninterested.

At this, the younger princess smiled smugly, leaning against the wooden pole. Gaara almost wondered if it would break, and what Shikamaru would have to say, but his attention was brought back to focus when she spoke again: "I've been watching you."

Gaara's non-existent brow furrowed. "Why?"

The mischievous grin returned. "You've been staring at my neechan. A lot."

The redhead blinked, apathetic. "Am I not allowed to look at her?"

Hanabi chuckled to herself and waved her hand, as though dismissing the idea. "No, no…it's just that…I know the look in your eyes. I know it well."

His eyes narrowed. "What are you getting at?"

She smiled. "You like her. As in, like like her."

"I don't understand what you're talking about."

"Don't play stupid with me, I know you want her," she teased. "That's why, I'm willing to help you…you're such a lost puppy."

"I am not a charity case," he said tersely. "Nor do I need help from you."

She took a step towards him. "Well," she said slyly, "When you get tired of staring—" she jabbed a finger at his chest "—Come find me."

With that, she turned on her heel, flipped her hair, and marched away.

Gaara rubbed the spot she'd jabbed, more lost than ever.

Tenten had stayed out late that night.

The only sounds on the practice field were her grunts of effort and the thunk! of her sword striking the wooden target post. She was exhausted, but she knew she had to get better if she wanted to become a knight. Ino was still trying to convince her to wear a dress for Hinata's ball. Ha! She wouldn't be caught dead in one of those puffy pink monstrosities!

But you'll be wearing a mask, no one will be able to tell it's you! You won't lose your 'tomboy' reputation, Ino argued.

They're uncomfortable! she fired back.

Tenten couldn't wait for some real excitement. She didn't find the thrill of having a matching dress and shoes, or the joys cucumber sandwiches could bring. A quest, a mission…now that was real excitement. Maybe Konoha would be low on men, and she'd have a chance to step up.

She had no idea how soon her fantasy would become reality.

Gaara laid in his bed, mulling over Hanabi's words. Did he really feel that way about Hinata?

Again, he was confused.

He always thought she was unlike other princesses, ever since he'd first met her. She was more kind.

But it hadn't been until several weeks ago that he really started thinking about her. What her hair looked like, what her eyes looked like, how she blushed frequently. He was unsure why he was noticing such mundane things about her. He knew it was in his job to guard her with his life, but did he have an ulterior motive in wanting to protect her?

Maybe it was because she was too trusting for her own good. That she naturally arose a protective instinct in everyone.

But he didn't believe that.

So what did he believe?

Did everyone else feel the calm aura she radiated? Her soothing personality that he sought close to a full moon? Was he the only one who found her beautiful?

No, she has plenty of admirers…

He liked being near her and she made him feel happy. Was this what love was? If so, he was in love with her…

Gaara held his head in his hands. He couldn't think about the Princess that way. He was just a lowly knight, and she, she was royalty. He had nothing to offer her.

"It is not a crime to want someone," Shikamaru had once said, in regards to Naruto's crush on Sakura.

But this was different. Knights and servants were not of much different class…but royalty?

It wouldn't work. It couldn't work.

Despite his morals, he dreamt of only one person that night.

There we go! Chapter one!

Pottage is a kind of Medieval stew normally eaten by peasants. It's not half bad, I've made some for a project once. XD

Um, feedback and suggestions would be great, and so would reviews…and stuff…

*runs away* XD