some headcanons about the Remember to Sleep AU? thanks!

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Well, I already kind of brainstormed this particular headcanon during the slew of Q&A for Remember to Sleep ‘verse, but I didn’t actually WRITE it in prose form so… enjoy, anon!

~

A private detective doesn’t walk anywhere. They slink and sidle and cruise around, or maybe they wander or stumble into a case, or, maybe, they’re running from something.

This is very much so a fleeing for one’s life situation, Kakashi thinks, ducking behind a parked car just in time to hear a bullet whizz overhead. Ah, scorned spouses, they never want to hear they’re being cheated on and yet they always hire him to get the proof. It’s not like he takes skeezy, voyeuristic photos for his own enjoyment.

That’s what his Icha Icha collection is for.

More whistling sounds, more shots, and Kakashi sighs. Lazily, he tracks the bullet paths with his eye, the trajectories as clear as if every bullet had a bright red ribbon tied to it.

Most of them end up bouncing uselessly against a dumpster, some cars, the concrete walls–gun possession clearly does not equal marksmanship–but one of them flies true and straight, out of the alley and into the street.

For a moment, Kakashi thinks it’ll be fine–the mouth of the alley is empty, it’ll strike the building across the way–except someone walks into the projected path. A young woman, smiling, looking at the person behind her, braid of brown hair a different shade entirely from Rin’s. And yet.

Even if Kakashi wanted to call out a warning, it’d be too slow–his eye can see at super speed, but his body can’t always react the same. His voice chokes up, anyway.

He’s going to watch this young woman struck down and it’s his fault.

(It’s always his fault)

A hand darts out, impossibly fast. Inhumanly fast. In between the path of the bullet and the young woman’s head.

Instead of puncturing through, just another flimsy layer of flesh and blood before ending a life, the bullet crumples–crashing headlong into an unmovable object–before falling harmlessly to the sidewalk in a tinny clink.

The young woman (not Rin not Rin, still alive, not Rin) turns around, tugs the hand and the person attached forward, away from the mouth of the alley–not that there are anymore bullets flying–and Kakashi sees him.

Minato-sensei.

But not.

(Not sensei, not sensei, impossibly alive, not sensei)

There’s a blonde man with a bulletproof hand and inhumanly fast reflexes walking around with a striking likeness to his dead sensei.

If ever Kakashi being a private detective was meant for something, it would be this.

~

A/N: written and posted from my phone, so not formatted, but still good yeah?

Anyway, I think I’m getting better at writing Kakashi? Or, at least, vastly AU versions of him…

Check out the Ask Box Author’s Cut event!

If you don’t mind, I can totally prompt you some more. Gambling Away The Past, more Shikako and Minato interaction? Alternatively, does Sembei ever bring the deer contract?

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I have been meaning to continue that series, so thanks for the prompt, to-someplace-else! Please enjoy!  」(￣▽￣」)

~

Gambling Away The Past, 8/? (2017-07-25)

Shikako reluctantly but dutifully wakes up with the sun.

It is excruciating.

Because they are in an outpost and relatively safe, she allows herself to whine noisily into her makeshift pillow.

Obito kicks out a leg, and because the tent they’ve been assigned is so small, it actually connects…

… with Rin’s thigh. She delivers a swift slap in retribution, before going back to sleep.

Kakashi, because he’s clearly inhuman, is already awake and looking down at his team unimpressed.

And fond, but largely unimpressed.

Shikako huffs another whine, before grudgingly going vertical, hating the morning and whichever cruel god invented it.

“You have to meet your clan member,” Kakashi prompts, when it looks like Shikako might just fall asleep sitting up.

“I’m going, I’m going,” she grumbles, splashing some water on her face to wake herself up, before leaving the tent.

An outpost during wartime, especially one so centralized and bustling as this one, is like having a piece of the village out in the field. It’s not home–not even the Konoha of this time would really be home–but it’s definitely a balm after months at war.

Sembei-obaa-san and the deer summons are being used mostly as messengers rather than warriors–rather beneath their abilities, but unsurprising without a combat capable summoner. They’d be housed permanently within the outpost, dorm building instead of a tent outside, closer to the commander where information is more vital.

People around the camp take note of her and wave her along with a nod or a smile–no doubt recognizing the Nara symbol of her uniform–but she doesn’t really need the guidance: Heijomaru’s antlers, tall and decorated, are easily visible from this distance.

She’s a little nervous, eager and worried: if she doesn’t sign the contract, then their trip here was for nothing. If she doesn’t sign the contract then Sembei-obaa-san and Heijomaru have found her unworthy.

The deer contract doesn’t mean home, but it’s another piece of it that’s close enough.

///

A trial run, Heijomaru had said, after Sembei-obaa-san read the letter of introduction from Ikoma.

She doesn’t know if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.

When she had first met Heijomaru, he had been somewhat reluctant even then–even though Sembei-obaa-san had been much older and hadn’t been able to summon him in years.

She’s even more of a cocky upstart now, apparently, which matches the summon she’s been assigned: Wakakusa, the only pyromaniac deer of the herd.

He’ll fit right in with Team Kakashi.

~

A/N: My laptop is acting a little wonky–I might have to send it in for repair/battery replacement. Unsure how quick that’ll be, but hopefully I can work something else out for posts in the next couple of days.

Check out the Ask Box Author’s Cut event!

A Year With the Moon + what happens at Mt. Moon? (Thank you for your lovely writings! I always look forward your posts and I absolutely love the characterizations and snippets of plot you manage to convey in such a concise way)

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Thanks anon! (●⌒∇⌒●)

I don’t remember something extremely significant happening at Mt. Moon–then again it’s been a LONG time since I watched the cartoon–and the temporary title “A Year With The Moon” is more a pun based on the Japanese names of the twins (Ashi is Satoshi and Ember would be Satsuki) but I do like the idea of the Clefairy and the Moon Stone resonating with her as beings not really of this world.

Fight-wise I don’t think things go very much different since Team Rocket always loses and with the addition of Gary and Ember, they’re even more outnumbered, but at the same time, they are very early in their journey and so it’s not a complete curb stomp…

I do think one of the Clefairy/Clefable chooses to go with Ember. I’m pretty sure it’s canon that Ash has aura powers and there do exist humans with psychic abilities and such… I’m not sure what Ember has. I mean, obviously, besides being an SIOC.

Ash regularly meets Legendary Pokemon that range from cryptids to gods, so Ember having some kind of abilities isn’t too far of a stretch. The Ketchum twins are both bizarre, frankly.

I guess, plot wise, it’d make more sense if Mt. Moon WAS more significant in A Year With The Moon–less because of the name, but because for Ember this is the first of her realizing she does have something else going on besides reincarnation.

And, also, maybe the Clefairy/Clefable is only her second/third Pokemon? She’s not really going full tilt on catching them all like her brother and Gary–game play wise, I personally preferred strengthening my team rather than completing the Pokedex–I think mostly she’d still be more amazed at being out in the world of Pokemon and not trapped in Pallet Town.

… yeah… sorry it’s not a ficlet, anon.

Multiphenomenal (2017-07-24)

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“I do not jump at Enma’s command anymore,” Grandmother says, leaning back in her chair. The brakes are on, Tetsuki notes, so there is no fear of it shifting backwards. “Nor will I do so at at his pup’s.”

The young woman before them inhales sharply, surprised and indignant. The old woman does not react.

Tetsuki stays where she is, by Grandmother’s side, standing and ready.

“Do what you will, Genkai, but don’t drag me back into it.” For all her physical frailty, Grandmother is fierce, fearsome. Tetsuki has lived for longer, technically–collected more years under her spiritual belt–but she has much to learn, still.

“I’ve lost enough.”

///

Grandfather built this house for Grandmother fifty years ago, traditional except for all of ramps discretely placed around to make the entire building accessible.

And the reiki-proof training room in the basement.

Neither were needed until about two decades ago–the former for Grandmother, the latter for Tetsuki.

“I’m not sure what you are, my dear,” Grandmother says, as Tetsuki unleashes her power just to test her new body’s limits.

She hasn’t hit any yet.

“But I’m sure you’ll be phenomenal.”

///

Grandmother runs a calligraphy school out of the house.

Or that’s the cover anyway.

She’s searching for a student. A particular student.

Oh, anyone can learn what Grandmother has to teach–Tetsuki herself has picked up a few of the ofuda patterns, faint memories of Komadori’s fuinjutsu ramblings acting as a foundation–but only one student will master it.

“Maybe Kuwabara’s grandchild,” Grandmother says, “the older one,” she clarifies, somewhat needlessly.

Tetsuki has heard about the younger Kuwabara grandchild: talented and surprisingly cunning he may be, but Grandmother’s abilities are not for him.

“And plus, I’ve heard that old bastard found a student of his own amongst those Igo players. Some young hothead with no connections to the spirit world… supposedly.”

///

School was easy before.

Well, academically, it’s still easy–her lives might have been different, but classes might as well be the same–but socially?

“Kaiza-san,” says Shuichi Minamino, heartthrob of the school and current pain in her ass, “I’ve heard your Grandmother teaches calligraphy; I’m interested in learning. Is it okay if I visit your house after school?”

This fucking fox. She should have let him die.

“There’s a calligraphy club here at school,” she says instead of electrocuting him into a crisp.

Some of their classmates take the opportunity to cut in, “We’re part of the calligraphy club, Shuichi-kun!”

“Oh yes, Shuichi-kun, we’d be very… open to you joining us…”

Tetsuki rolls her eyes, wishing she didn’t have to listen this excruciating conversation. But, alas, this is her desk and class is going to start soon.

Any minute now, please.

She’d rather still be fighting demons than this.

~

A/N: uh… here’s a thing because it won’t leave me alone. So… one of Tetsuki’s later lives in which she’s in the Yu Yu Hakusho ‘verse. I don’t have very much of it, but here are some details that I do have so… ¯_(ツ)_/¯ Enjoy?

Unsure if I’m going to stick with multiphenomenal as the title, but I like the sound of it for now…

Color Time / Indiana Jones TV verse + an award presentation ceremony (oscars etc)?

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(・・。)ゞ Hm… I don’t think the TV/movie industry has gotten that far when Colour Time and The Adventures of Konoha Nara are at their peak.

I mean, the advancement of technology and entertainment in the Naruto world is a little weird to me? Like, certain countries are way more advanced than others and then there’s the sudden rapid advancement between Naruto and Boruto’s generations so…

And then there’s the whole… military vs civilian society clash. If there does exist an Academy of Motions Picture Arts and Sciences, then it’s probably a civilian thing. More specifically, an upper class civilian thing if not an outright nobility thing.

Which is not to say that shinobi-produced media wouldn’t be in the running of whatever awards the civilian/nobility run media academy is doing. Just that.

Well.

I’m not entirely sure what I’m saying anymore.

I guess maybe it’s more of a… instead of Colour Time or The Adventures of Konoha Nara getting awards for being amazing/educational television shows, it makes more sense for the creators of the shows (ie Naruto and Sai, or Shikako, respectively) to be awarded/funded by various nobility?

Sort of in line with what happened in Snow Country? Except… backwards…

For example: Colour Time is, along with showing the benefits of art and creativity in a highly militaristic society, about friendship. So Naruto and Sai help the arguing heirs to the Fire Daimyo resolve their issues through art. And because of that, said heirs create a fund for artists in the Land of Fire in their honor.

Or: Prince Michiru, despite Shikako raining death and destruction upon his castle, is still rather fond of her and especially fond of her accidental television series, decides to fund a feature length movie about her adventures never mind the fact that she doesn’t do any of her stuff on purpose and surely being filmed by professional grade equipment (and that daredevil Director from the Unlucky Princess series) would negate all the interesting stuff from happening?

Hahaha… nope.

To this day Konoha Nara and the Moon Crystal is still the reigning leader of opening weekend box office sales.

All that being said, sorry I couldn’t give you a ficlet out of this prompt, anon, but I hope you enjoyed this rambling brainstorm a little bit.

stars also dream + headcanon

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Hell yeah I’ve got a couple of background headcanons I can send your way, anon. °˖✧◝(⁰▿⁰)◜✧˖°

~

They come down from the sky on a metal ship; just the two of them and their strange armored ninken.

They want to talk to the leader of the planet.

Father laughs, unsurprising. How do they not know that the world is at war–has always been at war? There are no leaders beyond clan heads and whatever shaky holds the daimyo have on the land.

Still, Father lets them stay for a time; the Senju are not called the clan with a thousand skills for nothing.

When an enemy squadron attacks, they defeat them all easily, just the two of them, with their swords made of lightning.

They leave afterwards, say they will send people in the future–to talk when the world has learned peace.

Tobirama learns that peace isn’t weakness–it’s about being strong enough to not need to fight.

///

When you are eight, you are brought in to speak to the lead teaching Jedi, as all members of your clan are. You are asked about your future plans, about what comes after being an initiate.

Every eight year old at the Temple wants to be a Jedi Knight; to be otherwise is considered a failure.

But you don’t think that’s true.

“An Archivist,” you say, because all of your clan mates have no doubt said they want to become padawans and you’re sure the lead teacher is bored of it. And plus, it’s always better to keep your options open; you’ve always been interested in Jedi traditions, and becoming a curator of them would be a contented existence. “There is still wisdom to be had from our history.”

The lead teacher nods, accepting. There is no change in expression on hir face, which you ought to have expected.

You are dismissed and so you go to the Room of a Thousand Fountains, letting the waters calm you.

You don’t become an Archivist.

///

In the Crystal Cave of Ilum’s Jedi Temple, you undergo The Gathering.

Like many padawan before you it is a test of patience, resourcefulness, and resilience.

It is painfully cold.

You don’t let that stop you.

You are searching for the kyber crystal that will be the heart of your lightsaber, there is no rushing it.

And except for the cold, you don’t think it’s such a terrible experience, the cave practically sings to you–the earth and stone more calming than even the waters of the Coruscant fountains.

When you emerge, kyber crystal in hand, Master Bant looks relieved and proud.

Your lightsaber is a comforting deep green.

~

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Shikaara royalty!AU. When Ino found out

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I see you, anon, and I like what you’re thinking. ໒( ͡ᵔ ▾ ͡ᵔ )७

~

Shikako tries to return to her seat without catching anyone’s notice–restless feet is no excuse for further international faux pas–but considering she’s sitting right next to Ino, there’s no escaping it.

Especially not when she stumbles right into her, eyes still dazed from the multitude of camera flashes. Shikako’s just a minor peer–those picture probably won’t end up in the news, right?

Ino lends her a steadying hand, one eyebrow raised in appraisement, “What were you doing?” she murmurs beneath her breath.

Shikako flushes, embarrassed again at the memory, “I just ran into someone,” she says. And looked like a total idiot, she doesn’t add.

Ino holds a stare for a beat, Shikako’s cheeks turning further red, before letting the matter drop.

She’ll find out soon enough, anyway.

///

“The prince!” Ino shouts, bursting through Shikako’s bedroom door without any hesitation. Cruelly, she walks over to the window and flings open the curtains. “You ran into the prince?”

Shikako groans, curling into her pillows and away from the light.

“Shikako!”

There’s an indignant flapping of paper, before Ino heaves a sigh and pounces.

She’s not heavy, but with a high enough trajectory and the element of surprise, Shikako’s breath leaves her in a rush, “No…”

“You didn’t tell me you ran into Wind Country’s prince. Spill now or else,” Ino threatens, yanking a pillow from beneath Shikako’s head and brandishing it like a weapon.

What torments could she possibly inflict that is crueler than waking someone up?

Well… it is Ino.

“Wind Country has two princes,” she says instead, just to be contrary.

Ino smacks her with the pillow. “You know who I’m talking about! The dreamboat with the gorgeous eyes and perfect cheekbones,” another smack, “Just what happened?”

“Nothing happened… I just bumped into him, said sorry, and then returned to my seat?” Confused, Shikako finally cracks open her eyes.

In Ino’s hand is a newspaper, the front page dominated by a color photo of Shikako and the younger Wind Country prince, his arm around her waist, her hand on his shoulder: they had literally bumped into each other and just barely managed not to fall to the ground in a flail of limbs. That’s all.

Ino looks less gleeful, now; she hands over the paper, “Not according to this.”

~

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Never Lookin’ To Come Back + Meeting up with the Ino-Shika-Cho?

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Okay, anon, thanks for waiting. This doesn’t quite fill the prompt but it is related so… author’s cut? Anyway, enjoy!

~

When you join the brown coats, your past doesn’t matter. Who you were–who you used to be–where you came from? That doesn’t mean anything.

Everyone has secrets from their past.

The only thing that matters when you wear that brown coat is what you believe.

///

Akimichi has two moons, Nara and Yamanaka, both as important to the Alliance as their planet.

Also like their planet, the moons are ruled by respective clans, though by title they are ministers not chancellors.

The current Nara minister has two sons.

No one mentions anything about a daughter.

///

They’re on the moon of Nohara–closer to the Core than either Kiba or the captain like, tension high in their shoulders, the slightest misstep enough to make Akamaru growl–when Shino comes back with a passenger.

It’s not unusual for Shino to bring back passengers–given how long the Teacher as been on the ship, he’s practically a crew member by this point, never mind that he pays them–but this passenger isn’t the same as the others.

She’s got a wicked smile on her face for one–instead of the typical serene blankness of other practitioners of the Will of Fire–and she even has a last name.

A worryingly recognizable last name.

“We already have the Hyuuga chancellor’s missing daughter and her asshole of a cousin, I don’t see how anyone could be a bigger risk than that,” Kiba grouses, voices contained to the engine room for that extra privacy.

TenTen wasn’t exactly happy at being kicked out of her domain, but she hadn’t argued at the look on the captain’s face.

“We don’t exactly need word of that getting around to the Core, now do we?” Shikako snipes back, but it’s a moot point. Whether or not they take Yamanaka as a passenger, her keen eyes have already spotted the telltale features of one Hyuuga who normally wouldn’t be caught dead on a bucket of rust and bolts like this.

Kiba bares his teeth, “Why are you lying to me?”

///

In the system, the captain’s name is Shikako Heijo; the same name she used to sign up with the brown coats.

Why would it be anything else?

///

Kiba and the captain stomp out of the engine room towards the cargo hold where Shino and their potential passenger are politely chatting as if they were having a tea party and not surrounded by graffitied crates of dubious content, instead.

“We’re not heading any closer to the Core than this,” Shikako says, practically throwing down a gauntlet for the Yamanaka minister’s daughter.

“What a coincidence,” she says, smile gleaming and sharp, “neither am I.”

Kiba doesn’t understand why that makes Shikako bristle something fierce, but he’s still pretty annoyed by all the sidestepping. She was never half as resistant to the Hyuuga bastard on their ship, and as far as he knows, Yamanaka is going to leave after one trip.

Or at least he hopes so, they’re flying a ship, not running a halfway house.

She turns to him, hackles raised, “Your passenger, your problem,” she says before stomping away again.

Kiba huffs in response, off balance and unwilling to show it. “So where are you heading to, then?” he asks, because if he’s going to get some cargo on this boat then he ought to know where they’re headed.

Yamanaka’s smile has dimmed, shrunk into something soft and sad, eyes following after the captain. “The Katou moon,” she answers, “I’m looking for someone.”

Kiba shrugs, “Hey, we don’t need to know why you’re going, we just have to get you there.”

///

As it turns out, knowing who Yamanaka was looking for would have been welcomed information.

After all, it’s hard to stay beneath the ROOT’s radar when you’re on the trail of the last Senju.

~

A/N: No Chouji or Shikamaru, sorry, but I figure Chouji wouldn’t really be able to leave planet Akimichi considering he is the heir and the whole twin meeting would be an entirely separate ordeal. And I more wanted to get into the set up of why the Ino-Shika-Cho aren’t on the ship.

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Ode to 11010201 Redux, Fire and Water (2017-07-18)

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My mom loved fireworks, the flashing lights and the colors, the patterns made in the sky. She loved the whistle as it went up, the way the boom reverberated in your lungs–she loved to shout along with it. The lingering shapes of smoke left over and how it reminded people to look up, made them children staring in amazed wonderment.

And she always got us the best seats in the house, “being part of the Fire Brigade has its perks,” she’d say, swinging me up into her arms, never mind my eternally sticky hands.

Children always have sticky hands for some reason.

She had a dangerous job, but she had a passion for it. Respected what fire could do, but didn’t fear it.

She didn’t die in a fire.

Sometimes I wonder whether that would have been better or worse.

—

Zim invites the Premier Gemini Witch–R, she’s asked to be called, and he’s trying, he swears–out to join him and his friends to the Independence Day festival. Maybe she’ll refuse, they’re still mostly strangers temporarily sharing the same work space, and he doesn’t know the exact age difference between them, but it does exist.

Still, he can’t say he didn’t offer.

And it seems sad to him, imagining the Premier Gemini Witch all on her own at the clinic, tirelessly searching for her sister to no avail.

She hesitates, staring at him as if she could read his mind–which, maybe? She is a luminary–before nodding and organizing her table for the day.

Zim, somewhat self-consciously, glances over the mountain of junk on his worktable.

Eh. He’ll fix it later.

—

His friends don’t mind the tagalong; some mild greetings aside they mostly ignore her.

Which seems a little irreverent considering her position in magical society, but the Premier Gemini Witch doesn’t seem to mind. Actually, she seems to prefer it, what with the lack of formal introductions.

“You can just call me R,” she says, before consuming what must be half her weight in festival food.

The third chili cheeseburger–after four pork tamales, two large packets of curly fries, an order of takoyaki, and three giant cups of different specialty lemonades–is when he feels comfortable and vaguely horrified enough to actually call her R.

His friends reached that point way earlier.

“Where do you fit it all?” Belinda asks, squinting, as if through sheer force of will she could see the tapeworm R must have.

R shrugs, unashamed, and says “I need a lot of energy.”

Well, considering she’s been running a search spell constantly for the past three weeks, he’s not surprised.

—

When the fireworks go off, she flinches, mouth turned down tight. But still she looks skyward, mesmerized, unblinking even as tears start to fall down her face.

“My sister loves fireworks,” R says, in between little gasping sobs. Kevin hands over a handkerchief which she presses over her eyes, Belinda shoots glares at anyone who looks their way askance.

“I don’t understand. Why can’t I find her? What if I can’t find her?”

Zim puts a hand on her shoulder, but says nothing.

—

What could I have possibly said?

~

A/N: Don’t worry anon, I saw your ask! But I just got home and I’d like to ponder it a bit before filling it. I had this almost done so I decided to finish it off so I wouldn’t have a missed post today.

The Ask Box Author’s Cut event is still on!