The Ghost of Wayne Manor, (2016-06-15)

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Surprise, it’s Tim.

Only children can sense him fully (though sometimes Alfred thinks he can hear him, can see the gentle nudges of things moved slightly out of place; sometimes they play chess) but once they’ve become “adults” that’s it. No more.

Tim remembers when Bruce was young, how they would play together. Remembers how his parents had indulged his “imagination” (though Thomas finds it quite the coincidence that his son’s ‘imaginary friend’ is also named Tim). And then, after the incident, how Bruce was so sad and brooding. In mourning. Something Tim knew about but never really understood until Bruce explained it to him.

But grief ages a person, and not long after, Bruce stops being able to see him anymore. Tim is alone, again.

Until Dick. And, see, even though Dick’s parents died before he came to the Manor, he wasn’t as rapidly changed as Bruce was. And Tim loved him for it, this new friend who could see him and play with him–even through his teenaged years.

Except, lately, Dick and Bruce have been fighting a lot. And Dick spends more and more time away, and suddenly their last fleeting goodbye becomes their final goodbye. Dick doesn’t come back until he’s Nightwing and can no longer see him.

It’s a while before anyone can sense him as completely as Dick did. Barbara, as Batgirl, on the rare occasions she came to the Manor (and not the Cave) had never been able to perceive him fully. Had perhaps seen glimpses of him from the corner of her eye, or heard a question in an unfamiliar voice, but they had never really met.

Jason, Tim thinks, came to the Manor old and learned to be young. Had been able to sense Tim better as time passed, an unusual direction, but one that Tim had been grateful for. Because Jason was interesting and fun and so full of life that Tim forgot, sometimes, whenever they were together, that he was a ghost.

Except that was cut short (and Tim wonders, sometimes, if it was his fault. If he might have wished that Jason could join him forever. If somewhere, in a land far away, Jason’s ghost is scared and alone and cursing his name).

The years that follow are long and cold and difficult. Worse, even, than when Bruce stopped seeing him and went away, coming back a stranger with a familiar face and always going to the Cave.

(Tim remembers, when Bruce was younger, the way they’d play at being brave but never daring the Cave. It was deep and dark and what if something were to happen to Bruce? Tim couldn’t get help. And so they avoided it, were awed by it. It was the bottom of the ocean and far flung space, a frontier that maybe they would explore when Bruce was older. But now look at it: Bruce has conquered it, made it into a home of sorts, a base from which his new legacy spreads. And still Tim cannot go in)

But things get better. A new Batgirl, one that can sometimes see him but not hear him–which is just as well, since she does not need words to understand him–and then another, one who can occasionally hear or see him, but not touch him (which he is grateful for, that first meeting, when her instinct is to punch a strange boy suddenly manifesting in front of her).

It is better, yes, but not the same as having a Robin or a Wayne child in the house.

Until, suddenly, there is.

Both even, though this one is far more interested in training in the Cave than indulging a ghost. But things start to come together somehow anyway, Dick and even Jason (somehow alive, not Tim’s fault, didn’t curse him to the same horrible fate) return to the Manor. And while Dick still can’t sense him, he remembers Tim, talks to him and pesters Damian into relaying responses. And Jason–touched by death, yet alive again–can still pinpoint Tim’s location, even without sight, and wrestle him into a playful headlock.

Stephanie and Cassandra and Barbara, who can see or hear him in bits and pieces, belief and perception bolstered by Damian’s honest, if reluctant, words. Alfred, of course, continues to do his best, their chess matches somehow cheerier.

Once, Bruce writes a note and leaves it on the desk in the study, before going behind the grandfather clock. Tim reads it and cries–or the ghostly equivalent of it, having no body or tears–but it is a thing more sweet than bitter, apologies, yes, but gratitude and nostalgia as well. Joy and affection.

Bruce has built a family around him, has filled the Manor with people who know Tim, and while it’s not the same as having his best friend back he thinks that this can be an acceptable replacement.

Except for Damian. It’s not as if Tim is jealous, he is dead and well aware of his role in the Manor–there is no competition, for how could a ghost ever compete with the living? But for some reason, Damian sees just the opposite.

Oh, he will repeat Tim’s words to the others when asked–grudgingly of course–but he will otherwise not acknowledge Tim’s presence. He doesn’t speak to Tim as himself, doesn’t interact with him, doesn’t engage. It’s as if he takes pleasure in making Tim feel as nonexistent as possible.

At one point, it seemed like he might even be trying to exorcise him (thankfully, Alfred put a stop to all that nonsense) though he might very well have continued if it weren’t for Bruce’s death.

And.

It’s stupid and selfish and so untrue, but Tim thinks it hurts him most of all.

He knew Bruce the longest, knew him when he was first brought home to the Manor as a baby. Bruce was his long before he was anyone else’s–before Alfred even–and it seems like his mourning, no longer an unfamiliar creature (and, oh, how silly and foolish he had been, how cruel he must have seemed to a young Bruce newly orphaned so long ago), should be far more than everyone else’s.

But that is not how grief works. Because that is not how family or love work, either, and during this time it cannot be said that isn’t what they are.

Grief works in mysterious ways, though, and while Dick and Jason and Cassandra and Stephanie all spend more and more time down in the Cave (all the better to honor Bruce, Tim knows, the legacy he left them with) Damian spends more time in the Manor. With Tim.

It’s not too little, too late–though he wishes Bruce would have been able to see them get along–but it is, at first, something strange and strained.

He and Damian are not friends yet, but they can learn to be; both of them a different but complementary parts of the Wayne family. Damian tells Tim about the Mission, about Bats and Birds and all the things in the Cave that Tim can never go to. He tells him about his mother, of his grandfather, of a childhood of being trained for two different roles; of swords and death and demons.

Tim teaches Damian his other branch of family history, two boys going down the long row of portraits, going further along each day.

Tim has been part of the Wayne Manor for so long, has watched generations of Wayne children grow up, and while he can remember each of them individually it’s true that sometimes the memories blur. He’s uncertain if it was Thomas or Bruce who broke a window and blamed it on Tim, or if it was Kenneth that unleashed frogs in the kitchen instead of Patrick.

Oh, he knows what they did as adults–even if they stopped seeing Tim by then–but he thinks Damian appreciates the more silly stories from their childhoods. It humanizes them, makes them family and not just genealogy.

Except. They reach the painting for Mordecai Wayne.

And Tim knows: he knows with such a strength (not the guilt ridden thoughts of Jason trapped in a foreign land, away from the Manor, away from Tim) that Bruce is alive.

The others don’t believe him (the others can barely see him–an imaginary friend they’ve outgrown, a child ghost unaware of the world) but Damian does.

It doesn’t matter that they are just children–one of them is a centuries old ghost and the other is Robin–they can do this. They can find Bruce and bring him home.

And Tim and Damian are no longer strangers stuck in the same house, they are friends. They are partners.

When Bruce comes back, he comes back to see his youngest son getting along with his oldest friend, and all is well in the Manor.

… for now…

Because maybe at one point in the future, Damian wants to figure out who exactly Tim is. No longer trying to exorcise him, but to give him a past–a name, a history–that isn’t just the ghost haunting Wayne Manor. How long has he been the Wayne family’s ghost; befriending Wayne children, watching over their home? Who was Tim before that?

And probably–even though Damian doesn’t intend for it to happen–unearthing the truth leads to Tim moving on. No more guardian ghost for the children of Wayne Manor. No more Tim.

But maybe there’s hope. Maybe, ten years after that–when Damian has finally taken up the mantle from his father–a little boy comes to the Manor. One that everyone can see and hear. A little boy named Tim.

Batman needs a Robin, and the Wayne family needs Tim.

~

A/N: a weird brainstorm/fic combination, highly influenced+inspired by @heartslogos’ DCU fic.

Also, written on my phone while I was on a seven hour bus ride so… take that as you will.

BASICALLY, I am always having Tim feels. Always.

Counterclockwise (2016-06-14)

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“Don’t try to be a hero,” Henry said to her once. What is, perhaps, most surprising about it isn’t that he told her this as Henry, rather than his usual Starling demeanor, but that she had learned to tell the difference between the two.

“What?” She had asked, so oblivious then, yet so unwilling to take the advice given to her. This, however, she had listened to even if she hadn’t fully understood it at the time.

“It’s something my mentor Firefly told me, when I first began training,” he explained, as best he could. Someone trained into this life from childhood trying to communicate with a near-civilian, their backgrounds so different. “Our purpose isn’t about being a hero, it’s about surviving what other people can’t. Not because we’re invulnerable, but because we can outsmart whatever is thrown our way.”

He smiled then and Leanne thought–or will one day think–that it may have been the first time he ever smiled at her. And it may be the only time he ever did.

For that moment, he wasn’t the perfect prodigy student of a legendary vigilante and she some random bystander unwittingly blundering onto the team. For that moment, they were–not equals, exactly, but similar. Empathetic.

Like he said, they weren’t invulnerable; didn’t have accelerated healing rates or full-body energy shields. They were both human, trying to survive on a team of powerhouses and meta-humans.

It’s not about being a hero, he had said, it’s about survival.

She wouldn’t fully understand it until after she had stopped being the former, and had been consumed by the latter.

—

Caleb had been kind to her, when Leanne was first starting out, mostly because he was the most sympathetic to her. Not because they were in any way alike, but because they were so different as to nearly be opposite. And they both knew it.

He was almost literally born to the life of a vigilante: his father had been one and he, along with Caleb’s step-mother, had raised him to be, if not a vigilante himself, then very aware of the lifestyle and what it meant to society. It also didn’t hurt that he was a meta-human from birth–invulnerable, with enhanced senses and strength.

He grew up expecting that he would one day step into his parents’ world, had been preparing for it his whole life, it would seem. Knew the ups and downs of it, but had deemed it–not an obligation, something to be taken up as part of his family’s legacy–but rather a responsibility. Something that he, with his abilities, had a duty to use on behalf of those less fortunate.

Which is perhaps the mindset that he had with her all along. A little unflattering, but probable: it’s not like he had ever been swept up by a random doctor and thrown onto a team with strangers without warning. She had far less knowledge, experience, and capability than him and everyone knew it. But rather than acting superior–though he was, in fact, in all senses of the term–he had tried his best to reach out and help her.

Too bad she had been too stubborn to accept it until it was too late.

—

Tetsuki? Oh, now, there’s a story that’s hardly worth the telling.

They were like fire and ice, oil and water, cats and dogs; as incompatible as all the cliché sayings one could think of. They were two gears asked to work together, but one was for a clock the other an engine, and all of their teeth merely scratched and jammed rather than clicked in synch.

After time and experience and many failed attempts–mistiming and miscommunication and some embarrassing crashes sprinkled about–they would learn to, if not read each other, then at the very least predict each other’s actions. They were functional, at least, if not compatible.

They never would be friends, but they had been teammates and that meant something more.

—

Hari is the one who she had been most uncertain about–mostly because he had seemed so uncertain of her in turn. Almost… scared of her, occasionally, which seemed so ludicrous at the time because what could she possibly do to a four hundred pound adolescent lion with the claws and teeth to match when the only thing she had was a wonky pocket watch?

Of course, it took her about ten years–in both directions, coincidentally enough–to realize that it was because her first time meeting him? Was definitely not his first time meeting her.

“There, there, it’s okay. I’m here, Hari, I’m here,” she murmured to the side of a familiar little boy’s head, crouched down so he could wrap his skinny arms around her neck. It was soothing nonsense, she didn’t think her presence could actually make this situation acceptable. He answered her with a sob, but tried his best to muffle it into her shoulder, the fabric of her top already becoming damp with his tears.

The police officers swarming around the scene barely sent a glance her way, most likely too focused documenting the evidence and preventing a crowd to worry about a woman who had managed to calm the only survivor. Or, perhaps, they knew her.

One of the older detectives looked familiar, like the relative of someone she had met previously; or the same person aged several years. After all, she had a brief stint as the fourth member of a vigilante team before her watch had whisked her away. For once it had been fairly chronological, if not entirely continuous: after four months of fighting alongside Apex, Griever, and Silverfang, she had disappeared only to reappear about two years later, a block away from where she was now.

Hari’s crying was tapering off, it seemed, though he wouldn’t relinquish his hold on her. “Shall I carry you, then?” she asked him, and did so when he slowly nodded in return; his short hair ticklish against her cheek.

“Anachron,” the familiar looking detective called to her once she stood, waving her over to join him. It seemed so strange, having people in the past know her by the name she had yet to take up. She hadn’t thought to come up with a new vigilante codename–it had taken her long enough to decide on that one, let alone a second one.

… Although, that would explain why everyone ‘in the industry’ so to speak had looked at her oddly when she announced her choice. To them, it had probably seemed like she had just taken some outdated minor hero’s name and tried to pass it off as her own. Then again, Hari had been rather supportive of her choice so maybe he had known all along.

Considering the weight in her arms, it’s a sound theory.

“Yes, detective?” she prompted, once she got close enough not to need to shout across the crime scene.

“It’s good to see you again, even if under shitty circumstances,” he said, a small smile twitched beneath his mustache, “Thought you had gone for good.”

“So did I,” she said, with a shrug, or as much of one she could manage with a child wrapped around her torso.

The detective nodded, before sobering up, “This is a fucking nightmare, though. The kid shouldn’t have to stay. I know some of the rookies are going to have trouble sleeping tonight.”

Leanne nodded, unsure what else to do.

“Could you keep an eye on him? He seems to like you well enough, and if he is what I think he is, none of my officers will be able to handle him if he acts up.”

She could feel her mouth flatten into a displeased frown. For all that the intent was good, his word choice could be improved, “What do you think he is?” she asked instead of correcting him.

The detective’s own mouth twisted into a frown for a different reason. He gestured at the crime scene, barely visible through it’s partition of yellow tape and police officers. At the other children, less lucky than Hari, with iridescent red scales or feathery wings or even, she noted with a shudder, with skin the same waxy green of leaves.

Some sick bastard building a menagerie of meta-human children. And while, for now, Hari maintained his human form, it wouldn’t be hard to infer the reason behind his presence.

After the pointed silence, she decided, “I’ll bring him to Kaiza’s. He ought to be checked out by a doctor, anyway.” While she doubted she’d up and disappear so soon after a jump, it’d be better if she set up alternate supervision just in case.

“I’ll let Social Services know,” the detective agreed, before dismissing himself and heading back into the fray.

As she walked away, undeterred by officers beyond a few cautious gazes, she heard Hari mumble quietly, “Anachron?”

It’s the first word he said since she found him, surrounded by corpses and uniforms, not a kindness in sight. She gave herself a moment to compose herself.

“Yes, it’s my codename. The one the police use so I don’t have to tell them my real one,” she explained.

“So the real one is a secret, so the bad people don’t find you,” Hari responded and she could feel her heart breaking.

She smoothed a hand up and down his back, the thin material of his shirt soft from being so threadbare. “Yes, something like that.”

He pulled away from her then, but only enough to look her in the eyes. “What’s your real name, then? You already know mine.”

She smiled at him then, tight and painful, and hoped he wouldn’t notice the difference, “You can call me Ann.”

~

A/N: This is longer than I thought it would be… but I’m rather satisfied with it. Some team fic feels, because… ripping her away from her time wouldn’t be nearly as terrible a fate if she didn’t love her team. 🙂

Also, I FINALLY CHOSE A VIGILANTE NAME FOR LEANNE! 😀 ‘Anachron’

Man, why didn’t I think of that sooner? It is both ‘not chronological’ which is basically her life and her power, AND you can give her the nickname Ann for both names. IT’S PERFECT!

Once Then Always, Tetrarch Picture (2016-06-13)

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A/N: I really should have been sleeping, but I figured, since I didn’t and I made online dolls of the Lost kids as Narnian tetrarchs (or tetrarchs to be) instead, I ought to post it and hope someone else enjoys them. So pics are under the cut.

I used Rinmaru’s Ascension Doll Maker, if anyone’s interested. It’s a fairly good doll maker, a lot of options.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t make Carlos shorter than the girls, which was a liiiiiiittle bit annoying (pun not intended) but I figured maybe he ended up having a growth spurt during their months in Narnia (a la, Skandar Keynes, the actor for Edmund Pevensie in the Chronicles of Narnia film, who did actually end up having a growth spurt during filming before the Battle of Beruna and so some of his lines had to be dubbed by his sister)?

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Like how the Lost kids make different choices than the Pevensies in their journey through Narnia, I kind of liked the idea that they also got different sets of gifts from Father Christmas. Or, rather, different combinations of gifts. So for Evie: the bow and arrows plus the healing potion. For Carlos: the summoning horn and the shield (implied with the across the chest belt). For Jay: not only the sword but also a dagger–because why settle for one blade when you can have two?

So it would seem like Carlos has the worst combo, but I figure it vibes a lot more with what I’m planning to have him do with wolves (that is, not kill them and so he becomes Carlos Wolftamer) and while I’m not saying he’s going to go all Captain America with his shield, it can be a pretty descent weapon (at least in terms of bashing things). And, well, Edmund never got a sword from Father Christmas but he still ends up sword-fighting too. So while Carlos’ sword isn’t a ~special~ sword, he might learn how to use one… Though him also not and instead summoning wolves to him does sound super appealing… unless the horn is somehow a weapon?

Aaand eventually, once Mal frees herself (with help from Aslan) from the White Witch and defeats her in battle, she gets the White Witch’s wand (which may or may not be the Fairy Godmother’s wand but before millennia has eroded it to a mere remnant of itself).

Also, this shouldn’t be much of a surprise, but Evie is High Queen over all four of them–hence the longer cape and the crown.

How To Adult Properly (And Maybe Heal Some People While We’re At It), a series of Team Medic ficlets 2/? (2016-06-12)

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Youbirin finds Jiro at their usual table in the hospital cafeteria, a row of emptied coffee cups standing silent guard around the piles of paperwork being furiously scribbled upon. He sidles his way into an empty chair, cradling his own paper cup of bland tea above the pages of what looks to be a step by step explanation of one of Jiro’s neural ninjutsu.

Sakura joins them ten minutes later, an expression of such dread written on her face that it leaves both he and Jiro confused. Her shift at the hospital isn’t for another hour, at least.

Wisely, Jiro silently hands over a cup of coffee and otherwise stays absolutely still.

Youbirin, unfortunately, is far less savvy even after all these years. “What happened to you?” he asks, earning Sakura’s attention and the brunt of her misdirected disgust.

“I caught my parents having sex,” she intones, voice flat and full of despair, that at first Youbirin isn’t sure he heard her correctly.

Jiro grimaces in commiseration, and though Youbirin doesn’t quite understand–he grew up in the Nohara complex, a pair of apartment buildings and the smaller family run hospital, everyone packed in together with limited sense of privacy–he manages to stay quiet.

“I guess they didn’t think I was in the house?” She explains, the hand not caught in a frenzied grip around her coffee, clutched desperately in her bright hair, “I don’t know, I was sleeping mostly, but then I heard noises and I thought maybe one of them hurt themselves. So of course I went to check and then…” She concludes with a full body shudder, taking a swig of her coffee as if to fortify herself.

“I need to move out,” she says, and at first Youbirin assumes it is an exaggeration–much the same way their ‘could have been’ game is–that he laughs.

Except, after a beat, he realizes he is the only one laughing.

“What, you’re serious?” He asks, eyes darting between his genin teammates, “That’s an overreaction, don’t you think?”

Sakura sighs, chugs the last of her coffee, and runs her hands through her hair again.

“I don’t know. Not really?” She begins, “I mean, it’s not just because of that. I’m an adult, you know? A jounin combat medic and I still live in my childhood bedroom in my parents’ house and, oh. I suppose I am a little happy that my parents are still so in love, though I’d rather not witness it. I know it could have been worse–I could have caught one of my parents with some stranger, cheating, which would have been terrible. Oh, I don’t even know where I’m going with this!”

Jiro gives a sideways smile, “You need your own space now,” he suggests.

To which Sakura nods in agreement, “Yes! That, exactly.”

Jiro nods back, the two of them bobbing their heads in pleased unison, while Youbirin watches in bemused amusement.

“Me, too,” Jiro says, finally, once they’ve finished their nodding.

“What, you caught your parents in the act?” Youbirin asks.

“Ha! No, thankfully,” he says, while Sakura gives another full body shudder, assaulted by memories. “I just meant, I’ve been thinking about moving out, too. It’s a little… strained… living with my parents, lately”

“Why?” Sakura asks, curious and surprised. She’s met the Watanabes before, all of them have met each other’s parents at one point or another, and they had been kind. And while Jiro’s parents were not so outgoing as her own parents, they were still very nice.

Jiro gives a sigh of his own, before mumbling, “They want me to get married…”

Youbirin and Sakura wait patiently for him to finish.

“… to some merchant’s daughter.”

Ah.

“But I thought they already knew about you liking guys–I mean, didn’t you already tell them? Why would they try to set you up with someone’s daughter?” Sakura asks, sentences crashing into each other clumsily.

“I have and they know,” Jiro shrugs, “but I guess they think its a phase or that I’d be willing to get married as long as they don’t expect grandchildren? Or maybe that I’d be okay if I could have a boyfriend on the side or something? What kind of person do they think I am?” He says, words getting increasingly angrier and faster, until near the end he’s nearly shouting.

It’s only because everyone else in the cafeteria has other things on their mind–or, like them, are medic nin that have carefully cultivated their indifference to non-medical things the way a gardener does his bonsai trees–that Jiro is only being stared at by his two genin teammates and not everyone in the room.

Regardless, Jiro checks himself, shoulders hunched, a flush of embarrassment across his face. When he speaks, his volume has dropped down to a more familiar level.

“I already told them I wouldn’t marry her, and they’ve accepted that at least. But it’s still rather… tense at home. And, well, I would like my own place so I don’t feel as awkward if I were to meet someone.” He shrugs again.

“As if we ever have the opportunity to,” Youbirin says, trying to inject some much needed humor into the conversation.

“We hardly have time to meet up with each other,” Sakura agrees, because trying to coordinate the schedules of three jounin combat medics for overlapping free time is nearly impossible.

“Actually, I was thinking…” Jiro begins, and both of his listeners pay attention, “I don’t really want to live all by myself. I do want my own space, but I don’t think I’m ready to be completely alone,” he explains, “And considering how I’m always at the hospital or on missions, it’d be wasteful to rent a place that’ll be empty more often than not.”

“Are you saying…” Sakura asks, hesitantly.

Jiro gives her an almost shy smile, “We could be flatmates? Split rent, see more of each other. It’ll be like when we were genin again,” he says, which prompts Sakura to smile brightly and clap with excitement, but just sours uncomfortably in Youbirin’s gut.

Yeah, just like their genin days–when Jiro and Sakura were sprinting forward and leaving him behind.

“There’s a three-bedroom place over in west Akimichi district that I’ve been looking at that isn’t too expensive,” Jiro says, pleased. Which makes sense, because any part of the Akimichi district is great and the west side is close to Konoha’s main hospital. Youbirin shouldn’t begrudge either of them that. Although…

“Three bedrooms?” he asks, interrupting Jiro and Sakura’s chatter.

She shoots him an exasperated expression, while Jiro looks at him, baffled.

“Of course I’d look for a place with three bedrooms,” Jiro says, “It’s not like the three of us are going to share a one room apartment.”

Oh.

Youbirin tries not to let the relief show on his face.

“… Dibs on master bedroom.”

~

A/N: And another one, @kuipernebula. I was kind of trying to go for Youbirin as more tactless than mean-spirited? Like, his childhood bullying ways and continued poor social skills are mostly because he’s insensitive–in the way that he literally doesn’t have a feel for some nuanced interactions (which explains why Kabuto was so easily able to exploit him). So basically like Kiba but less roguishly charming (and I guess that might explain Jiro’s crush on Kiba)?

It’s probably a good thing he’s a combat medic and not part of the normal Medic Corps because he probably has shitty bedside manner.

Down Every Road: Or, Some Ways Shikako and Sasuke Get Together, 3/? (2016-06-11)

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(three: ANBU partners)

—

ANBU are trained in pairs–this, at least, Danzo did right in his perversion, ROOT.

ANBU candidates are inducted in pairs. Share a call sign and a mask design. They are taught together, fight together; succeed or fail together.

Live and breath and die together.

At least, until they leave ANBU.

But even then…

How could anything or anyone compare after that?

—

Trainees Mouse aren’t the youngest ANBU trainees in Konoha’s history, nor are they the strongest or smartest or the ones with most potential. No, Konoha has seen its fair share of genii, and while Trainees Mouse might be on the list, they are certainly not the top of the list.

But they are… something. Something interesting and compelling and powerful, just waiting to be unleashed.

Or smothered completely before their prime.

Or appropriated for someone else’s benefit.

—

The problem with being famous is that, when it comes to being part of an organization where anonymity is the key to success, all sorts of actions become all the more difficult.

Never mind faces and names–if an enemy combatant doesn’t recognize Nara shadow jutsu or instant-touch fuinjutsu, they must have been living under a rock for the past few months. And even then–Iwa has been fairly obsessive when it comes to gathering information about Konoha’s budding fuinjutsu master.

“I’ll never be allowed on the field,” Shikako groans, all but collapsing to the ground, body cover in all sorts of new aches. For now, Raccoon-taichou allows it, but only because even he must be bored of knocking her around the training room so easily. Taijutsu is not her best skill; and its for that reason why she’s being drilled in it.

“Don’t say that,” Sasuke mutters, dropping into a crouch beside her and rearranging her so her muscles won’t seize up in an awkward position. “If you can’t go out on the field, I’ll never get to, either. And that was the whole point of me joining ANBU.”

Shikako groans again, a wordless thing muffled into the crook of her elbow, before picking herself back up and readying herself for another round of getting her ass kicked.

The worst thing is? She asked for this.

—

Shikako really shouldn’t be complaining, because it’s true: Sasuke’s only chance of leaving Konoha again–barring the sudden and definitive death of Orochimaru–is by being ANBU.

There are no such limitations on her. In fact, due to her reputation and showing during the Grass Chuunin Exams, Shikako might very well be better off going on missions with her own face and name. She knows there have been some clients specifically requesting her, though due to the rank and nature of them, they’ve been politely redirected to other more suitable shinobi.

As far as the rest of the world knows, after Shikako’s sudden sky-rocket to the rank of special jounin, she’s been set aside as inactive for some much needed training. And, well, they’re not wrong. She does actually do shifts in Intel and train with the other sensors and both she and Sasuke have morning kenjutsu practice with Kakashi-sensei. But mostly?

That’s all just a cover for her real training to become ANBU.

—

Even within ANBU there’s a hierarchy:

There are the ones who are in it only for a year; chuunin hoping to get some experience, a quick and dirty way to qualify for a promotion.

There are the ones who–knowing they’ll never become jounin, and certainly not one of the elites ones with their names whispered in fear and awe–devote themselves until they break.

And then are the ones who, despite the masks and the codenames, become legends unto themselves.

ANBU Wolf was one.

So it’s no surprise that everyone watches his students with such expectant and interested eyes.

Everyone. Even the unwanted ones.

—

Shikako knows, more than most, how poorly Sasuke reacts to things being kept secret from him.

But she also understands, more than anyone, that some secrets do need to stay secret. At least for a while.

And so, until then, Shikako will do her part to keep them from her partner. Unless her guilt gets to her first.

Or Danzo gets to them both.

—

They make it through training. Through monstrous taijutsu spars and sleep-deprivation tactics. They memorize the entirety of ANBU’s codes and hand signals and protocols, undergo poison resistance treatments and pain tolerance augmentation. They survive and thrive and make it through completely.

Sasuke has increased his jutsu lexicon to respectable levels and Shikako has fended off Danzo’s overtures to join ROOT at least half a dozen times. Truly, there is no better measure of success, and so when it’s time for them to officially become ANBU she can’t help but be eager.

“Your new codename is Sheep,” Raccoon-taichou says, presenting Sasuke with his new mask. Despite the cuddly name, it does look rather fierce–or at least, now that she’s learned to interpret the swirling lines of color. There is the general shape of a face, and spirals at the temple to represent horns. A ram, maybe, which is not so bad.

Sasuke steps back, settling his new mask on his face, so she can step forward.

Raccoon-taichou holds out her new mask and startles, a minute twitch of his shoulders; in anyone else, that’d probably be a full-body judder and him dropping the mask.

He is silent for a moment.

“Taichou?” Shikako prompts, concerned but wary.

Again, he startles, an almost imperceptible shake of his head.

“Your new codename is Weasel,” he says, holding out the mask.

She almost doesn’t want to put it on. She can feel the way Sasuke has tensed at the name, knows her shoulders are just as tight.

This is Danzo’s last move, but it’s a good one. Terrible, but smart. A simple way to put a strain on their partnership, but easily within his means and something he can plausibly deny.

But she will not let this last shot in the dark hurt her, will not give in to him. She takes the mask and the name, turns to her partner and nods.

They can get through this. They can get through anything, so long as they are together.

~

A/N: I don’t know what Yamato/Tenzo’s ANBU call sign is, but I’ve decided on Raccoon if that’s okay.

For anonymous who wanted some Shikasuke and Stress… though I didn’t really get into the feelings of it so much as I just blathered on about ANBU. Buuut hopefully my point has gotten across. 🙂

How To Adult Properly (And Maybe Heal Some People While We’re At It), a series of Team Medic ficlets 1/? (2016-06-10)

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It’s about half past three in the morning, or maybe it’s actually closer to seven, Jiro’s not really sure. Time really flies by when you’re up to the elbow in bodily fluids and trying not to let your patient’s sucking chest wound become a fatal sucking chest wound. Also, this is the last time he takes the graveyard shift because those are the worst–except that’s a lie because all shifts are the worst, no matter what time of day–and why did he ever decide to be a medic nin? Why couldn’t he be something less stressful like T&I or ANBU?

Somehow he gets through the front door and doesn’t trip and crack his head open, even though he told Youbirin to stop leaving his sandals right at the front entrance about a thousand times and by all things that are good and holy in this world, he is too tired for this.

Sakura is asleep in the living room again, something he can sense by her chakra signature and the way her hair is so ridiculously visible even in the low light. No doubt if he went to check, he’d find her hunched over notes, drooling slightly and passed out from exhaustion. She’ll complain about a crick in her neck when she wakes up, and that would serve her right.

But if she wakes up cranky then that means she won’t make bento lunches for all of them and she has been getting better at cooking so he goes over and flares his chakra once, twice, thrice, just enough to rouse her from sleep and let her know who it is that’s adjusting her to a more horizontal position. She’ll complain about being on the floor, but she won’t actually be in pain, so the bento just won’t be as elaborate but they’ll be there.

He’s debating whether or not he should make himself coffee–if he wants to ride out the day on caffein and try to reset his sleep schedule by at least waiting until the afternoon–or if he shouldn’t and should just go to sleep now and damn any forward planning, except Youbirin must have sensed his chakra too and now he’s picking his way through their living room turned into Sakura’s makeshift office and obnoxiously leaning his massive weight against Jiro like he doesn’t have at least six centimeters and nearly ten kilograms on him.

“Food,” Youbirin mumbles drowsily against the top of Jiro’s head which would be, frankly, infuriating, if he had any energy to spare.

As it is, Jiro lethargically tries to shrug him off and, when that fails, prop him against the wall or something less liable to keel over themselves at any time.

“You need to learn how to cook,” he grumbles back, but heads to the refrigerator anyway because now that he thinks about it, he’s hungry, too.

“Can’t, won’t,” Youbirin responds and, well, he kind of has a point because Youbirin once burned water and Sakura banned him from ever coming near the stove on pain of taijutsu only spar. And only an idiot–or a lovestruck masochist like Rock Lee–would go up against Sakura in a taijutsu spar.

Their fridge is a bleak wasteland as empty as his chakra reserves.

The pantry isn’t much better.

“Whose turn was it to shop for groceries?” Jiro asks, because, damn it, now he’s really hungry too.

Youbirin, now slouched halfway down the wall yet not quite sitting on the floor and eyes tenaciously closed, blearily suggests, “Check the chore chart,” the syllables tripping over his tongue.

Jiro glances around their apartment skeptically, every surface covered in charts and graphs, yes, but also prototype seals and jutsu and half-filled applications for new drugs because they are very much their sensei’s students. Finding their optimistically created chore chart would be like finding a specific kunai on a battlefield.

“Let’s just order in,” he suggests instead, grateful that the Akimichi are such a large part of Konoha’s food industry and thus have restaurants open twenty four hours a day with delivery.

“I want gyouza,” calls Sakura’s voice from the living room, because, yeah, sure. Why not? Might as well feed everyone all at once.

Jiro, as the only one standing, reaches for their phone and the dials in the number for the nearest Akimichi restaurant by heart because it’s actually shameful how frequently they order delivery at odd hours.

“I could’ve been a merchant,” he sighs after putting in the order–well, really, all he said was “This is Jiro Watanabe,” and the server just asked “The usual” and waited for an affirmative grunt before hanging up–sliding himself to the floor, too, because the floor is appparently super comfy. Gods, he’s tired.

“I could’ve been a farmer,” Sakura adds, having crawled her way into the kitchen to join them. It’s a familiar game, one they play distressingly often.

“I could’ve been some noble’s kept boy toy,” Youbirin finishes, the thought so ludicrous that, after a beat of stunned weary silence, they all burst out laughing.

Because being a medic nin is terrible. It’s disgusting and difficult and draining, even in peace time, and it’s not at all what he thought he’d be doing when he graduated from the Academy almost ten years ago. And yet? He’d never be satisfied with anything else.

He’d get bored as a merchant or a farmer or even some noble’s kept boy toy; doesn’t need to be T&I or ANBU to know that it wouldn’t be as fulfilling. He’s exhausted and hungry and slightly delirious for it, laughing hysterically on the floor of the kitchen with his two best friends in the world–he’s a medic nin and he wouldn’t change a thing.

~

A/N: This is set in the Team Medic AU spinoff of DoS in which Sakura’s Team One with Youbirin Nohara and Jiro Watanabe wound up with a medic nin jounin sensei and they ended up passing because of it.

I had some Team Medic feels, @kuipernebula, hope you don’t mind. Just some random ficlets set in the ambiguous future, and I tried not to let it outrightly contradict anything we’ve discussed (though apparently, Youbirin is now taller and heavier than Jiro… uh, but I guess that was kind of a fifty fifty chance on who would end up taller so…).

Also, apparently there are mobile/cell phones in the Naruto world. Which is super weird to me but, whatevs. And sure it’s in the epilogue/Boruto gaiden but, seeing as how Shikako exists in DoS she may help that along faster. And this is set in ambiguously them being late teens/early twenties so… maybe right now they only have landlines?

I came here because of the DoS forums, I stay because of all the stuff you write being really really good. Especially your Benlos Descendants stuff. I saw your thing about the descendants kids being pulled into naruto-verse and was wondering what would change/happen if they ended up in DoS instead, or if Shikako and various others went to Auradon.

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Thanks, anon! 😀 I always wondered if my readers were cross-fandom readers, or if they just stuck to a single fandom, so it’s nice to know at least one person likes my writing in different fandoms.

This brainstorm correct?

Let’s see… I don’t think much would be difference if the Lost kids ended up in DoS instead of canon Naruto. The structure of the teams are much the same (with Team Seven being heavy hitters, whether it’s Shikako or Sakura) and so the dispersion of the Lost kids amongst genin teams would also be the same.

I guess the difference would be in how Shikako reacts. Because even if she doesn’t know Descendants, per se, she does definitely know the fairy tales that their parents are from. It gives her additional information that the other Konoha nin don’t have, a context for their background, though whether she can use that to her advantage depends on how the story goes.

I’d be hesitant to say that she’d be suspicious of them because of their parentage, but it does seem like something she’d do and it wouldn’t look all that different from everyone else being suspicious of them because of their mysterious appearance in Konoha. That being said, I do think she’d be interested in learning more about their world–especially when it comes to collaborating and creating new seals gadgets that are similar to the ones back home or even adapting Mal’s spellbook into jutsu. Even though the Lost kids were only off the island for one day (or not, depending on when you want to have them spirited away), they know enough about technology (via broken scraps from Auradon) that they wouldn’t be all that unfamiliar with real world equivalents.

And, I guess in a ruthless way, Shikako doesn’t have to worry about them dying or not in order to preserve the happy ending. Like, hypothetically, if Naruto and Sasuke die then she knows she’s failed because there’s no way anyone else can deal with Kaguya. But if any of the Lost kids die? Well, it’s not like they existed in the Naruto canon in the first place, so their absence doesn’t affect the plot.

Which may make her more likely to tell the Lost kids at least part of the truth about her origins… or at least, enough that they would know she is their best bet at… well… not going home necessarily (or maybe that, at first) but the closest thing to someone knowing who they are? To understanding where they come from and how, because of the trust given to them by Konoha and their respective teams, they’ve changed for the better. Someone to appreciate the fact that they’re not villains like their parents.

As for characters of DoS going to Auradon…

Most likely it’s via one of Shikako’s attempts to figure out Hiraishin. Which probably means that TenTen is also there. Which might mean that this is during a kunoichi study group meeting. Which would be absolutely amazing!

Okay because consider this: Shikako, TenTen, Ino, Sakura, Hinata, and possibly also Yakumo and Isaribi (though I don’t really know these two all that well) in Auradon where literally everyone except the Lost kids are super spoiled civilian royalty. If we go with Shikako as special jounin rank then she would be the highest ranked of the seven and thus automatic taichou. Also, the one in charge of getting them back home so… a lot of pressure for her.

In that line, I guess it’d depend on when during the Descendants movie the kunoichi appear and if we want to have them deal with that pesky language barrier or not. Because, that would be a pain to write.

Although I guess… hm… If it’s English then Shikako would still remember it from her old life and maybe the Yamanaka have some kind of ability that lets them skim knowledge? That way Ino can also understand English… I mean, the other five would still be stuck, but at least it’s not as bad as having only Shikako understand. Then again, that would be pretty terrible so maybe… I dunno… ~magic~ means that everyone can understand everyone. Maybe there’s a spell the Fairy Godmother can cast.

Anyway, firstly, you have the same problem as the Lost kids going to Konoha and that is: how do they appear and why does Auradon trust (or, at least, not imprison them) immediately? But it does depend on when in canon you want them to appear…

Hm… this may be just because I recently watched Hercules but… what if…

*thirty minutes of researching later*

Uh, okay, no never mind. I thought there were seven muses of Greek myth (Hercules only used five) but apparently there’s nine of them. I mean, I guess I could just use the five that Hercules used and not have Yakumo and Isaribi (since I don’t know them that much anyway…).

[In which case I’d have it be: 
Calliope – epic poetry, writing tablet – Shikako
Clio – history, scroll – TenTen
Thalia – comedy, comic mask/cup – Sakura
Terpsichore – dance, lyre – Hinata
Melpomene – tragedy, tragic mask/dagger – Ino
Though at first people think Hinata is Melpomene and Ino is Terpsichore. I don’t know why that seems important to me.]

Anyway, the point was that when the five/seven kunoichi appear the Auradon people take it as some kind of sign that Ben will be a good king/hero of legend etc in the same way Hercules was (I assume since Auradon is a mishmash of vaguely Europe and some other countries then Greece would be included?).

Uh… I guess there are also the Seven Princesses of Heart from Kingdom Hearts franchise which… is also technically Disney. And, I mean, I dunno. Maybe they actually represent something?

Anyway, so maaaybe. If you want them to appear during the canon Descendants movie, they should probably appear somehow when the Lost kids go into the museum. Maybe they knock something over or activate some artifact that has a delayed reaction and “releases”/summons the kunoichi from their universe to Auradon.

Like, one of them knocks into it and everyone is afraid that it’ll break, but someone else manages to catch it before it hits the floor. But they put it back in the wrong spot and this new spot gets sunlight and then when the sun rises, when the Lost kids are already back at the school with alibis, suddenly the kunoichi appear.

And the thing is–kunoichi lessons? Are all about infiltration and acting and information gathering. So even if it’s not a situation they ever expected doesn’t mean the others besides Shikako won’t be able to handle themselves reasonably well.

(Ha! I just realized, considering Shikako has the deer summons and Ino has the chameleons–if you consider Disney princesses very frequently have animal companions they’d blend right in. :P)

And I guess the plot proceeds however you’d want it to–the kunoichi work on getting back home, because unlike the original Lost kids go to Konoha idea, there’s a sense of urgency that they have to go back. That Auradon isn’t there home and can never be their home–maybe some select people *coughtheLostkidscough* learn new tricks before they go. There’s a coronation, Maleficent crashes the party, etc. etc.

I’m not all that sure if the kunoichi should change the movie canon plot all that much–I mean, maybe after the coronation, and if they’re still there, they do something but… I don’t see how the sudden appearance of seven girls who know how to be subtle would prevent Ben from getting crowned king etc etc.

Uh, but it was a pretty interesting thought exercise, so thank anon!

Spectra (2016-06-08)

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“He’s a menace,” she spits out, mouth twisted and eyes narrowed.

And Cathy would assume that was it, had her sister not continued, “But I suppose he thinks the same of me. Which is fair enough.”

“And that’s why you work well together?” Cathy asks, curiously, confused.

Her sister sighs, voice going soft in a way Cathy doesn’t and might very well never understand, “We’re perfect together.”

—

It’s straight out of a B-list action flick, or an airport novel, or even a bright and colorful cartoon series, but unfortunately for her it’s real life: Cathy Xanthe is from a family of secret agents.

Her parents were partners, the best of the agency in their prime, apparently, while her sister is on track to be the same with her own partner.

Cathy prefers a more… hands off approach. The world is steadily becoming more and more digital–why use guns and chit chat when a string of code can get you what you want far more efficiently? And, well, computers don’t require nearly as much emotional upkeep as a partner does.

—

Cathy prides herself on being a fairly neutral force in the industry. She’ll code for any party, provided her fees get paid of course, with the understanding that, well, no hard feelings if she’s paid to break it the next day. All of her jobs are one-offs, and while she might have repeat clients, they know better than to expect any loyalty from her.

Which is why everyone is surprised when she accepts Irina Aubrey’s offer. No one more than her, she’s sure.

She’s not entirely sure what made her take it–an ongoing job as a member of a team, of all things–but it’s not entirely without perks. Aubrey has a very nice set up ready for her, and has assured her that, so long is its not actively against the team’s missions, then Cathy can continue her side business.

Which is good, because even if her neutrality has been compromised, Cathy’s not going to let her presence diminish.

—

The whole “everyone’s allowed their secrets” is an absolute load of rot. Especially given that basically everyone on the team has decided to use their real name. Or near enough to it.

For Cathy that’s just strategic–her name is her brand and her shield–but it’s not the same for everyone else. Aubrey, she knows is from an old money old world Family–though with the obvious pseudonym, she’s not quite sure which one–the kind that would view the Kelleys and the now-extinct Falcones and crass upstarts. She’s too used to being listened to, and considering she’s paying for the entire facility out of her own pocket, maybe, she has good reason to.

Tanj–and as far as Cathy can find, that is her only name–is a fairly well known player in the industry. Not someone Cathy’s worked with previously, but she has a decent reputation. If it weren’t for their vastly differing methodologies and philosophies about crime, she probably would have proposed a permanent partnership before. There’s something appealing about the idea of having a master of disguise do all the groundwork: though perhaps, she’s leaning too far on her family’s daring tales of adventure.

Violette Jones she has worked with before, actually, in a second-hand way. Cathy remembers the old hunched over man who also went by Jones. All scars and whipcord muscles and a complete lack of technical knowledge, but the wisdom at least to make sure his protege would be functional in the future. It was an annoying three weeks of teaching the two of them the basics, which should have been one week if it weren’t for their combined sheer incompetence. Oh, good people, definitely. The kind of people she’d want on her side in a fight for sure. But by god.

It’s Yasmine that scares her the most, actually, and not for the reasons one would think. There’s not much an unofficial surgeon can do without stepping over the line, and Cathy had always maintained her neutrality. Crime is crime and profit is profit, sometimes you just have to close your eyes. But Yasmine Odell is–either knowingly or not–using the name of a dead man who saved her parents lives on multiple occasions. And Cathy believes in paying one’s debts–especially the those of the life owing variety.

As for Frances? Ah, well, that is an amusing story, isn’t it?

—

“Going out,” Cathy says, waving at Violette who nods back and resumes watch.

No tech genius, sure, but the Jones name has always been synonymous with security (whether giving it or breaking it) and Cathy can think of far less fortified places to work from.

Tonight, though, is a delivery for one of her outside clients. She can’t host this deal in Aubrey’s place. Considering who the client is, that would just be in bad taste.

It only takes fifteen minutes to get to the restaurant where they’ll meet up, but Cathy takes twenty. She’s not beholden to anyone but herself.

Certainly not the head of The Flock.

~

A/N: a little late, written entirely on my phone, was traveling the entire day

Hey JackSGreyson! This is the anon that requested all of those Shikasuke snippets. I love what you wrote so I want to thank your talented self. Thank you! And I also love the hunter and nukenin verse (hoping that you would continue with that – Shikako meeting up with missing-nin Sasuke by chance). Oh, and I hope you still write about Grass Chunin Exam in Down Every Road verse. Thank you.

jacksgreysonLeave a comment

Hiya and you’re welcome! I’m glad that you enjoy my writing! 😀

I will try to do a Further Down Road Two, though I’m not sure how long that will take me to get to (especially given how, you know, I have a lot of other Shikasuke prompts to get through :P). As for the Grass Chuunin Exam…

Oh man, okay, so… I mean it’s probably been… not obvious per se but rather conspicuous how I keep trying to avoid doing the Grass Chuunin Exam (from now on referred to as GCE) and it’s. Well. I guess part of me is just like it’s still so new to me somehow?

It’s not like the Konoha Chuunin Exams which everyone and their grandmother knows by heart and so any changes to it is almost welcomed AND completely understood. Like, in the first Hail To The Queen installment I was pretty damn vague about what Shikako actually did and yet, somehow, people understood exactly what I was trying to convey.

With GCE I’m a liiiittle reluctant to change things but, at the same time, I wouldn’t want to not change things. If… that makes any sense whatsoever. Like, okay, witchbreaker’s The Grass Chunin Exams series is absolutely lovely because it does explore alternate POVs in depth and with such skilled turns of phrase that I don’t want to do a similar Sasuke POV of it and fall short.

And also because that doesn’t really appeal to me writing-wise. A lot of my writing is–”well what if this small thing was tweaked, let’s explore that”–and yes there are some introspective parts but it’s in reaction to those tweaks, you know?

I have maybe ONE idea for how to do a Shikasuke GCE fic but at the same time I’m reluctant to make any changes to the canon DoS GCE because Silver Queen crafted it soooo perfectly I almost don’t want to break it. 

Also, I guess subconsciously my brain has linked the GCE with my Shikako x Gaara feels seeing is how that is what inspired my very first DoS recursive fic… it’s a little hard to untangle that, you know? Like–gosh, their fight against each other? And even the night before? *dreamy sigh*

Uh… sorry, I didn’t mean to rant at you… I mean, I’ll probably do it–that one Shikasuke GCE fic, that is–but it’s kind of on par with my Hail To The Queen series? Like–pretty far out there in terms of AU. And it might take me while to get into the right Sasuke headspace for it–because this is very distinctly DoS Sasuke still, not my weird un-traumatized baby Sasuke from Even Further Down Road One.

“There are only four Lucky Seven.” “Well, the other three weren’t very lucky, were they?”

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Hello again, anon (or, at least, I assume you’re the same anon from over at @dosbysilverqueen)! I’d be glad to fill this prompt because, as I said earlier, it is pretty interesting how the expanded Team Seven is actually seven people (Kakashi, Naruto, Sasuke, Shikako, Sakura, Sai, and Yamato/Tenzo) and that would be fun to explore. Especially given Shikako’s edging on breaking the fourth wall at times…

I don’t know exactly what I’ll do with it, or when, but I do appreciate the prompt. 🙂