#this is my week of drawing shadow with various characters he would never ever meet

[fernsnailz]

what if there were two guys with extremely similar traumas and they also got ice cream together

[inspired by punkitt's comic]

[misssunflowersandsangria]

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Naruto Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Nara Shikamaru/Temari Characters: Nara Shikamaru, Temari (Naruto), Yamanaka Ino, Sai (Naruto), Akimichi Chouji, Karui (Naruto), Nara Clan Additional Tags: Mafia AU, Romance, Eventual Smut, BAMF Nara Shikamaru, Explicit Language, Smut

Hello deers!  I absolutely love Mafia AU's so I got inspired to write one for ShikaTema.  It gets pretty steamy from the beginning and this theme will pretty much carry through the whole story.  Still, I hope that you enjoy it!

I’m going to be updating this post as I add new chapters. :D

Summary:

Money, power, and women were all at Shikamaru's fingertips as the head of the Nara Crime Family. He had all that he could wish for as he ruled his empire with an iron fist. An encounter with a troublesome blonde was enough for him to risk it all on one night.

Chapter 1:  Opening Move

Chapter 2:  Queen’s Gambit

Chapter 3:  Luck

Chapter 4: Castling

Chapter 5: Protecting the Queen

Chapter 6: Deflection

Chapter 7: En Passant

Chapter 8: Capture 

Chapter 9: Checkmate

*

**

Shikamaru’s midnight eyes surveyed the crash of sweaty bodies moving and pulsating to a heavy beat. He took a long drag of his cigarette overwhelmed by the sheer number of people and heavy bass. It wasn’t often that he made the trek out here.  Typically depending on his associates to check on their businesses.  His father told him though that it was important for the king to be seen by his people.  

For so long his family had to operate in the shadows.  That was no longer the case.  The Naras, Akimichis, and Yamanakas ruled this area.  Government officials, police officers, “powerful” people were all on their payroll.  Very few things happened in this city without them knowing.  Everyone knew who they were and they no longer tried to hide it.  

When he was younger he’d complained constantly that this was a drag. He never wanted to become the head of the Nara crime family.  It wasn’t his choice, it was his destiny.  Still, he grew into the role and had accomplished more than they’d ever dreamed. Their empire was now strong and vast. Power and money were his.  And yet there was an emptiness in his chest. 

He didn’t delight in the benefits of being an infamous crime boss. The club was far too loud. The women who threw themselves at him were too troublesome.  A lot of strings and losses came with power. And it was all becoming far too tiresome. 

His eyes continued to scan the room before they fell upon one person in the crowd. His heart began to beat wildly and an excited shiver ran through him. From where he stood he could tell she was a striking blonde but there was something different.  Like a beacon drawing him in. A feeling unlike he’d ever experienced before. 

He studied her for a while.  She was clearly a good worker never taking a minute to rest between drinks.  He typically didn’t involve himself in the day to day operations of their various businesses. He trusted his associates to do thorough background checks and to hire the best. Once he got a name he’d have to check through her file. 

Shikamaru became increasingly frustrated as she flirted and smiled at the club patrons.  They didn’t deserve her attention especially when all of his was on her. His hands clutched painfully around the balcony railing as he tried to keep his anger in check. 

Shikamaru called his security detail over.

“The blonde bartender, bring her to my office.”

“Yes sir.” 

Shikamaru continued to stare as she gazed up towards him with a confused glare. Part of him hoped that when they met she would bore him like the rest. She’d be good for a quick fuck and then he could send her on her way. The intellectual side of him knew that wouldn’t be the case. 

Temari took a deep breath as she followed the large man down the dimly lit hall.  

She’d only started working at the club for a few weeks now.  It was an easy enough job.  She was able to make a pretty decent amount of money, especially from tips.  It was amazing how easily these men opened up their wallets when a pretty girl smiled at them.  

She couldn’t imagine what she had done in such a short time to gain the interests of the Nara clan head. 

When she applied for the job she had already been well aware of who actually owned it.  Their family owned everything in this town. She wasn’t worried though.  What interest could they have in a regular bartender?  As far as she knew it was just a popular club with lines out the door on most nights.  It was a veritable pot of gold.  She needed the money for herself and her brothers. So whatever reason that Nara had for summoning her she knew that she needed to play nice. 

This was despite her natural inclinations.  She had to remain calm and quiet lest she enrages the infamous mob boss.  Their reign and crimes had been known far and wide and she didn’t want to be a victim of his anger. 

The room was small but well furnished.  Despite the fear in her bones it was warm and inviting.  

Temari looked up, finding him sitting in a large chair with a cigarette pressed between his lips.  She’d never known what he actually looked like but he was undeniably handsome.  Sharp features with a hint of darkness around him.  His hair was pulled back away from his face as his deep eyes studied her. The expensive well-fitting suit framed him perfectly. He seemed to be younger than her but his eyes held a lifetime of painful memories.   

The Nara wasn’t what she expected at all.  She’d imagine some sort of large overweight cartoonish figure that wore an obnoxious outfit.  This dark and dangerous man was like something out of her fantasy.

A delighted shiver ran through her. Unlike the fear she had experienced before there was a tinge of excitement and want.  

He placed his cigarette down in favor of leaning forward to stare at her, his chin resting against steepled fingers.  She could see dark swirls of a tattoo peeking from beneath the shirt cuffs. 

 “Your name?”  Even his cool voice was making her wet. 

“Temari, sir.”  Surprising her he grinned.  

“I have enough yes men in my life.  You are allowed to speak freely here, on my honor you will not be harmed for anything you say.”

“You mean your honor as a criminal-”  She bit her lip feeling her stomach drop.  Her father always told her that her mouth would get her in trouble. 

Surprising her yet again he chuckled in response.  “I have no shame in what I do or what my family has done.  Criminal might be an overestimation.  Your elected officials, police officers, those who are meant to uphold the law.  They are all under my command, so who is the greater criminal?  The one who knows the crimes that they commit or the ones that believe themselves to be above them?”

“I doubt that you came here to discuss ethics.”

He smirked at the response, this interaction so different from what he was familiar with.  He strode over, his shadow falling over her.  “Are you not afraid of me?”

There was now hardly any space between them and the once warm room felt far too hot. He was too close and she could smell the cigarette on his breath. “If you were going to kill me, it would have been done already.”  She replied breathlessly but instantly regretted it.  

Despite his promise, she knew that she should still watch her words. The self-preservation part of her was too slow to stop her mouth. Or perhaps she was becoming drunk off his intoxicating scent of pine trees and smoke. She took a deep inhale wanting to commit the smell to memory. 

“You’re sharp.”  Temari breathed a sigh of relief that he seemed to be amused by her.

“You have to be growing up the way that I did.  If you don’t mind, I am on the clock and the time that I am wasting here I could be making money.”  She needed to get away.  This devastatingly attractive man was doing something to her and she wouldn’t be able to take care of it till she got home. 

“How much do you typically make a night here?”

“On a good night $300.”

He pulled out a stack of bills from his pocket before placing it in her hand. “Here, there’s at least a grand.  Is it enough to stop you from trying to leave?”

Despite needing the money her arms crossed.  “I’m not some hired whore.”

“I never said that you were.  Seeing that I am technically your boss, I am just paying you for any lost wages.”  

“Do you always have something to say?”  

His lips curved into a grin.  “My mother always told me that my mouth would get me in trouble.”  For some reason imagining that this larger than life man had a nagging mother made him seem...normal.  

“So, why am I here?”  She prayed that it was for the same reason that she wanted. 

“I don’t quite know myself.  I saw you there and something just made me want to meet you.”  His fingers casually trailed over the length of her throat along to her shoulder.  Traveling over the skin her dress left exposed. Goosebumps erupted where his hands moved. He’d barely touched her and she was already soaked. 

“Why?”  She breathed as his hand came to take a possessive grip on her waist.  “I’m no one.”

“I highly doubt that.  Even speaking with you for just 5 minutes has shown me that you are really something quite special and I've learned to read people quite well.”  He replied as his face buried itself into her hair as he took a deep breath.  She smelled like an ocean breeze and it was disorienting.  

“Do you do this to all the women who work for you?”  Temari demanded trying to keep her wits about her.  

“Jealous?”  He asked as his fingers trailed beneath the hem of her dress.

“Of course not.”  She replied sharply trying to fight back a moan at his warm hands traveled to grab the swell of her ass. 

“Good, because you’re wrong.  This is the first time someone has ever interested me in this way.”  Flutters erupted in her stomach at the idea that she could have captured the attention of someone in his position.  

Taking her own chance, her hands moved up his chest to cross behind his head, her fingers playing with the stray hairs at his neck. Lust and want were pushing her. How long had it been since anyone had made her feel this way? Had anyone even come close? 

“So what now…”

His lips traced along her throat as he pulled her flush against his chest delighting in her gasp of shock.  She was surprised to feel how hard he was and had to still her hips from moving against him.  

“It’s up to you.”  His voice was hot and desperate against her skin.  “Because of the position that I am in I don't get to imagine tomorrows.  So all I ask is just for one night.”

“Just a night”  She panted as he continued to layer kisses along her skin from her shoulder towards her exposed cleavage.  

His tongue and lips left a wet trail along her skin.  

“That’s all.  No strings, no expectations, just us.  Whatever your conditions are is fine.  I need to fuck you and It’s pretty obvious that you want me too.”  She felt his smug smile between her breasts.  His thumbs rubbed the tight nubs.  She held her breath as his hands massaged and manipulated her sensitive tits. 

In spite of herself, she couldn’t help the moan that fell from her lips.  

“Fuck, you don’t know what that sound does to me Trouble.”

“More, please.”  She begged thoughtlessly and his hands made quick work of pulling her dress down below her tits.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”  He breathed before his mouth descended over her.  She cried out as he bit and sucked at her heavy chest. She arched up chasing that delicious feeling. 

Despite what she actually wanted she managed to ground out. “Wait.”

Shikamaru immediately released her, taking a step back. “Sorry, Temari-”

She shook her head before pulling him back. “No trust me that was perfect and I do want you.”  At the admission, he returned to worshiping her heavy mounds.  

She had to bite back a moan to get her point out. “But if this is really just going to be a one-night thing let’s make it interesting.”  

“How so?”  

“Let’s go out, get something to eat.”  Temari couldn’t believe what she was asking for. Yes, a quick fuck would be more than enough. For whatever reason though, she didn’t want the night to end. 

He was in shock and just a bit of awe at the situation.  Most women easily spread their legs if he showed any interest. Why did he relish in challenges?  Why was he entertaining the idea? 

“I don’t just go out or go on dates.  I’m not a good man. I could easily take what I want from you.  Why can’t I?”  He groaned against her flushed chest. 

“You tell me.  You seem to have an answer for everything. Here’s what I think. When I asked you to wait you did.  You’re a criminal but you’re not a monster.”  She told him with a soft smile with her fingers in his hair. That smile could bring him to his knees. 

“You think much too highly of me. Trouble.”  He replied taking deep inhales in her hair. 

“I don’t think that I do.” 

“A date.” 

If he was right and they did only have one night together Temari was going to make it last.  

“That's what I want to do.  And you said that any of my conditions were fine with you.  Maybe get to know each other just a little bit first.”  

His finger slowly grazed her face before drawing her gaze back up.  It was like those teal eyes could see right through him.  “You might not like what you find.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”  He met the challenge in her eyes with his own steely glare.  She was so damn troublesome and it would be much easier to find some other willing woman to help him get off.  That person wouldn’t be Temari though. 

“Fine Trouble if that’s what you want.  We will go out but if you think that this silly attempt at keeping me from what I want is going to stop me you’re mistaken.”

She made a show of fixing her dress before drawing him into a kiss.  His lips were hot and demanding against hers but she responded in kind. Aggressive and lustful, her tongue slid against his. She felt him walk them back. Her back hitting the door so he could put his full weight against her.  

Shikamaru very rarely kissed his conquests. Fucking could be emotionless and raw. Kissing felt far too intimate. Kissing Temari though he couldn’t help but crave.  She was so soft and pliant against him.  It had been so long since he’d had anything so sweet. 

“Are you just used to getting what you want immediately?”  She teased him, her lips still against his.  He hiked her leg around his waist grounding his erection against her overheated pussy. 

“Most people know better than to push me.”  He groaned, taking quick bites along her neck. His cock was already so hard in his pants and this troublesome blonde was only making it worse. 

“Don’t be a cry baby about it. Maybe waiting will make it that much sweeter.” 

“I can’t imagine your pussy being any sweeter than it already is.”  He replied with a grin as his fingers moved up her thigh and towards her wet cunt teasing her hard clit.  Wanting to draw out those sweet cries from her.  

“We don’t have to go out to eat. I can eat your pussy right here.” 

She pulled him back into a demanding kiss. It wasn’t a bad idea but she’d already made her move. “Fuck, your mouth won’t get you in trouble. That tongue will.”  She cried, throwing her head back. 

His thumb rubbed against her kiss swollen lips. “And that’s exactly where I’ll expect it to be later on tonight.” 

“Come on, let’s go.”  After a few more heated kisses Temari was able to pull back wanting to see her request through. Needing just a little space. This man was far too disarming. 

“Well you’ve sucked my tits and felt me up, I think that I deserve a first name Nara.” 

He threw his jacket over her shoulders before leading her back down that dimly lit hallway. His arm wrapped protectively around her waist. 

“It’s Shikamaru.” 

“Shikamaru.” She repeated back and the sound of his name on her lips sent a shudder through him. 

This Temari was dangerous. He knew that she couldn’t actually physically hurt him but the damage could be much worse. Still, when she looked at him with that all too charming grin and excitement in her teal eyes he couldn’t help but want to take the risk.

Once they reached the streets she stopped him to pull him into another kiss. It was far more gentle than the lust-fueled ones that they’d shared.  A genuine smile crossed his lips when she looked up at him. 

“Be careful, a date with me can be quite a drag.”

*

**

I was going to write this and keep it to myself but I loved it too much and I hope that you do too!!  I have another story for Sai/Ino and one in the works for Chouji/Karui that will all happen in this same universe. It's going to go fast because I have no patience or energy for a slow burn. There will be some twists and turns though!  Thanks for reading!  Love, love you all!

Update: I have a Stalemate/ShikaTema playlist on spotify but is there a way to share it but it’s not associated with my personal account?  Hmmm either way if I decide to share it I’ll add a link here.

[angst-fairygodmother]

Light Fingers (The Umbrella Academy)

Diego’s vigilantism brings him repeatedly across the path of a young cat burglar. But as he finds himself developing feelings for the thief, he begins to wonder if there’s more to her than meets the eye, and whether they’re really on opposite sides. And as their relationship deepens, it brings with it a plot involving his estranged adopted father, and threatens to destroy all of them.

CHAPTER 3: TAKING YOUR HEART

Word Count: 1676 Pairing: Diego Hargreeves x Reader Rating: G Cross-posted to AO3: here

Previous Chapter: We Keep Meeting || Masterlist

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You and Diego settled into a routine.

You would break in somewhere, get what you came for. He would stop you on the way out, make some attempt to get information out of you, which you would always deflect. You’d slip away. He’d give chase but eventually give up.

The next morning, he’d be in the diner: two eggs sunny side up, bacon, whole wheat toast, orange juice. Stories about his childhood, or the odd characters at his boxing gym. Chatting about other customers in the diner, your rock-climbing club. Admitting that he’d flunked out of the police academy for a “problem with authority.” Admitting that you’d never had a chance to flunk out of anywhere because you’d been too scared to commit to something in the first place. Trading smiles and pick-up lines that never went anywhere, no matter how much your heart rushed and your face heated when your fingers would brush.

You never spoke of night activities. He never turned you over to the cops.

Round and round you danced.

One evening as you were leaving after a double shift, he was waiting for you outside.

You gasped, startled as he appeared from seemingly nowhere at your elbow, walking casually with his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket.

“Jesus!” you cried, pressing a hand to your racing heart dramatically. “Where did you come from?”

“Can we talk?” he asked, not actually looking at you, matching step with you as you started walking toward your apartment.

“Sure, I guess. I mean we do all the time,” you shrugged, shoving your hands into your own pockets to chase off the slight evening chill.

“Not about this. About…your other job?”

“Oh.”

You felt your heart sink, sure that this was the moment where it all fell apart. You had come to look forward to the back and forth with him, almost as much as you did the thrill of taking or the fruits of your labors. You bit your lip.

“Yeah, okay,” you sighed. “Not out in the open though. I’m not stupid.”

He finally glanced over at you, scanning your face for any sign of a trick or trap. Finding none, he nodded. “I’ve got…a room…at an old boxing gym. If you’re okay with it, we could talk there. No one will bother us.”

“Okay. Yeah. Lead the way.” If he was willing to trust you, you decided, you would extend him the same courtesy, at least for now.

~

“I still don’t get it. How do you do it?” He was leaning against the stair railing casually.

You stood in the center of the barely converted boiler room, spinning in a slow circle to inspect the whole scene.

“You live here?” you asked incredulously, not even noticing his question in the wake of your shock.

“It’s enough for what I need,” he shrugged.

You raised an eyebrow at him as if to ask ‘is it though?’

“Gonna answer my question sweetheart?” The tone of his voice rankled you, a little too close to the condescending losers in your life who thought they were better than you because they were bigger or stronger or…maler.

“You really haven’t figured it out?” you placed your hands on your hips as you looked at him.

“No. And don’t give me that ‘smoke and mirrors’ shit again.” He had been putting away his various knives and waved one of them at you to punctuate his words.

“It was a hint,” you rolled your eyes. “But clearly, I’m not speaking to the brains of the family operation.”

“Y/N…” there was a tinge of anger, of warning in his voice.

You sighed, biting your lip, nervous to trust him enough to open up after so long bearing your burdens alone. “You at least worked out that I’m one of the other freak babies that your father couldn’t acquire, right?”

“Yeah. Well I mean, I figured as much, but I wasn’t sure. You not getting caught means I didn’t exactly have any records to check.”

“Silver linings keep coming.” You smiled wryly. “I escape because of—and actually owe quite a bit of my skillset to if I’m being honest—my power.”

“Which is…?”

You held up a hand, watching with a relaxed expression, calmer than he’d ever seen…anyone really, as the light began to coalesce around you. He knew he was meant to be watching your demonstration, but instead he found himself mesmerized by the way the gathering energy flickered across your face, bringing a warmth to you that he didn’t usually see in dim nights or under sputtering fluorescents. He moved closer to you, mouth slightly agape as he stared and you rolled the light over your palm coaxing it to play through your fingers.

“You can glow?” he asked softly, and you flushed, picking up the note of awe underneath his incredulity. “I don’t get how that helps. Shouldn’t that make it harder?”

“If glowing was all I could do, maybe. Although it would still mean I don’t have to worry about a flashlight or night vision goggles. Less gear to worry about lets me be lighter on my feet, sneakier.”

You smirked. He quirked an eyebrow at you.

“I can manipulate light. Glowing is the easy part because there’s always a little bit of light, even when it’s not visible, that I can pull in and then it’s easy to change the frequency. But a little change to how it reflects equals functional invisibility. To a camera anyway. Or anything without an intelligence. Hence smoke and mirrors.”

“So it could make you invisible to Luther?” he offered with a smirk.

You laughed, shoving his shoulder lightly and he chuckled in response, now the one glowing, with pride rather than light, at having been the one to draw out the sound, which was more genuine than he had heard from you in the past.

“A living being notices more…stuff, like shadows or flickers of movement or when something just doesn’t seem right. So I’d have to manipulate a lot more at once to be invisible to them. I’ve never actually tried it, but I don’t know if my powers are strong enough for that.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “So you have the power to control light. With that you could do anything, search and rescue or something. But you decided to use it to steal?”

“Hey Mister Judgy McTightpants, it’s…more complicated than that. And not all of us have an edgy hero complex that keeps us from seeing past our own tiny worldview.” You folded your arms over your chest, glaring defensively at him.

He watched the walls slam back up around you, your eyes glazing over into coldness. Guilt and regret gnawed at his gut.

“No, wait. I didn’t mean…”

“Yeah, I don’t really care what you meant. You had Daddy Warbucks funding you and training you. You got choose to live in a shitty one room ‘apartment’ and play superhero. Not all of us had that luxury.”

“Luxury? You think I grew up with luxury?” He scoffed.

“Yeah, I do. I’m not saying it was perfect, or that you’re father wasn’t shit, but I am saying…forget it.” You shook your head, annoyed with him, but even more with yourself. “Just forget it. Talking to you at all was a mistake.”

He grabbed your arm lightly as you turned to go, not enough to actually restrain you, just to make you pause.

“Wait, please?” he said, voice tinged in nervousness.

“Why, so you can criticize me some more?”

“No. I…you’re…there’s so much about you that I can’t figure out. I’m trying to understand.”

“Maybe I don’t want to be understood.”

“What?”

“Goodnight Diego,” you leaned in to kiss his cheek before thinking better of it, brushing past him, arms folded around yourself as if to fight off a chill. “I’ll…see you around.”

There was an ache in his chest as he watched you go, your hand lingering on the doorknob. He wanted to call out to you again, to ask you to stay, to beg you to tell him everything you kept locked inside yourself. But when he opened his mouth, it was like he was twelve years old again and he couldn’t find a way to make his mouth form the words, to push the sounds out as something distinguishable. He had just gotten his tongue around the shape of your name when the door clicked closed behind you.

He sighed, flopping onto his little bed in the corner, staring up at the ceiling with one hand tucked behind his head. There was something about you, something about the way you made him feel, that he couldn’t place, but it was unlike anything he was used to. It puzzled him and frustrated him. As he lay there, trying to go to sleep before his nightly patrol, he found the shape of your smile and the halo you had formed around yourself were burned into his brain.

~

Several weeks went by where you did not see Diego Hargreeves. At first it was a relief, not to have to worry about the vigilante interfering with your work. But then, even as your thefts got bolder and there was no question of what you were doing, he failed to make an appearance and you actually found yourself growing worried.

More than that, you missed him. His stupid smirk as he challenged and teased you, the little self-deprecating laugh when he told a truly terrible joke at the counter, the way his eyes seemed to see deeper than the surface, the fact that he made you feel seen and special for maybe the first time in your life.

Finally, you decided you had had enough (annoyed with yourself for moping. Over a boy of all things) and went out looking for him.

Maybe you would have to apologize for your harsh words. Maybe you wanted to. Swallowing your pride and letting the door creak open for him was better than the alternative, this strange void in your life.

[lilacyams]

The Savior

Wayhaven Week 2020, Day 6 - Daydream / Nightmare

@otomefandomevents

Pairings: F!Detective/Ava Du Mortain

Summary: Detective Kassandra Remender has trouble sleeping, she always has. As duties, guilt, and lack of sleep eat away at her, there’s only one woman who can give her some comfort: Commanding Agent Ava Du Mortain. After a bumpy start, the two have grown quite close – closer than Ava would like to admit. They’ve made a habit of meeting at night, in the quiet of the training room; tonight, Kassandra has something to say.

Word count: 3,725

Rating: Teen and up audiences (anxiety references)

AO3 link: click here

I sigh and run a hand through my hair, heaving myself up in a sitting position. The thump thump thump of my racing heart fills my ears and doesn’t let me think; I let few minutes pass, giving it enough time to slow down and clear the fog in my mind. There is no need to touch my forehead to know it’s drenched in cold sweat, so I stand up and drag myself to the bathroom. Washing the nightmare away from my face will be something, at least. 

It’s all fine, I tell myself, it’s routine at this point. Murphy might be locked down forever in a facility miles away from me, but in truth it feels like he never left. The vampire is still here; he haunts my sleep. I can see him in the mirror, right here in this faint half-moon scar on my neck. My index finger traces over it carefully, as if too much pressure might tear the healed wound open.

But it’s not just him. I see his victims in my dreams. Their cold bodies laying on a table, their cloudy eyes snapping open and burying into mine, accusing me. I failed them. I failed them, and I’ll carry this weight for as long as I can breathe.

Patting my face dry with a towel, I inspect the woman staring back at me through the mirror. She looks pale and tired, brown eyes dull with lack of sleep and long, dark locks disheveled by all the incessant tossing and turning over the previous hours. I brush them back in place. After all, I’m not going back to sleep now.

Wading through the gloomy corridors of the warehouse at night, my footsteps lead me to a familiar place – a place where I know I’ll find exactly what I’m looking for. Or rather, who.

The heavy doors of the training room have been left open. I head inside, now fully assured of her presence. 

It has become a common occurrence, ever since our first nightly encounter in the training room. Every time I decide to stay over at the warehouse, should I have trouble sleeping I know where to find her. Given the repeated scenario, I might even call it “our spot”. We either talk about the most random things – with me doing the bulk of the talking, of course – or we just sit in silence. It does not matter: it’s comforting. 

Does she really train every night, or does she only do so when she knows I’ll be there? Is she doing it for me? An interesting question I might ask her someday.

I have the impression that she feels bad for me, though she has no reason to. What I’m going through is nothing but the inevitable baptism of fire of a detective at the beginning of her career. And yet, the thought of the stoic vampire waiting for me in the training room every night, just to offer me some comfort in her own way, is… heartwarming. 

Moonlight spills inside of the broad, high windowed room. It highlights the contours of various equipment items, which shadows stretch and dance all over the floor, and makes every metallic surface glow in silver.

I notice Ava laying on a mat, busy with a series of crunches. Preferring not to disturb her, I sit cross-legged in a spot nearby and wait.

Her skin glistens with sweat as she works, and I can’t help but fix my eyes on the attractive lines of her side profile. Moon rays cast their shine onto her top lip, nose, and cheekbones; and the labor-induced dampness makes them shimmer in a rather entrancing way.

The silvery gleam highlights her pale body and golden hair, giving it an almost holy appearance. She looks like a Renaissance sculpture, magnificent and timeless.

The vampire is obviously aware of my presence, but she keeps on exercising for another minute before she finally halts to a stop.

“Last set?” I call out with a smile. She faces me, turning around with a heavy sigh to settle herself onto the mat in a sitting position.

“You had another nightmare,” she says matter-of-factly.

“Yeah.”

Ava frowns in sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

Her breath hitches as she stares at me intently, lips parting as if she’s going to say something else; but in the end she doesn’t, and her lips press shut.

I acknowledge her concern with a nod. “Don’t be sorry, it’s not your fault. Don’t mind me now, finish your workout.”

Evidently not convinced by my attempt to brush off the subject, the woman pinches her eyebrows together tighter and straightens herself.

“I wish I could do more to help,” she states with determination. But her voice becomes uncertain as she speaks again. “I am not… good at this.”

My eyes widen in surprise at her words, what with not being used to such openness on her behalf. She’s definitely opening up to me as we’ve been spending more time together, but it’s always a welcomed surprise to see her showing her soft side… And admitting her feelings out loud.

Perhaps noticing my astonishment, Ava snaps her gaze away. I make an attempt to draw it back to me.

“You are good at this,” I reassure her.  “Actually… you are the only one who can help me now.”

Now it’s her turn to be surprised. As we exchange a long and meaningful look, her piercing gaze acquires a softness. It’s the softness I always look forward to see in her eyes; not the icy green everyone can see, so sharp in her usual guarded look, but the liquid emerald that melts its ice away. The warm look that makes me think I might actually be special for her.

Her words come out only a bit louder than a whisper. “Why?”

My lips curve upward in a gentle smile as I fidget absentmindedly with the hem of my shorts . The sudden need to be closer to her eats me alive; the urge to touch her and tell her how I feel is so strong that resisting it feels like torture.  I wonder if she can sense that.

Suddenly nervous and no longer knowing what to do with myself, I stand up and go sit on the first bench I can reach; much to my shock, Ava joins me almost immediately, taking the spot right next to me.

My head leans back to rest against the wall, the cold feel of it seeping through my skin as a welcomed sensation. Might help me cool down a bit, at least.

“Look how far we’ve come,” I start with a nostalgic smile, eyes fixed on the metal doors on the opposite side of the room. From the corner of my eye, I notice that Ava is looking at me.

“Do you remember the first day we met, blondie?” A chuckle catches my breath. “I mean… The one in my office, though we might count the one at the warehouse too if we want to be super precise.” I don’t need to look back at the vampire to know she’s shaking her head, not thrilled by the memory. Admittedly, shooting her was not the best way to introduce myself.

“What I mean is… Who could’ve predicted something like this? The first thing we did was arguing – and in a pretty heated way, and many, many times at that, and damn, I feel for whoever had to endure being in the same room as us – and now we sit here, just the two of us, with you keeping me company whenever I can’t sleep”

It does feel surreal.

“If someone back then told you we would be like this today, would’ve you believed them?”

Ava chuckles softly, drawing my attention to her amused face. “In all honesty? Never.”

“Right? And yet, here we are. And you know why?” I make a brief pause, my voice losing any trace of irony. “It didn’t take me long to understand it. You and I… we are similar. That’s why we butt heads so often, that’s why in moments like these I feel that you’re the only one who can understand me: because at the core, you and I are the same. We want to get things done, even though we might have a different approach at times.”  I let out a content sigh, releasing the tension bit by bit; a playful smile dances on my lips as I speak again. “See, I like my women with a strong character. Challenge is fun, after all.”

The vampire considers my words carefully, then she nods. “It makes sense, I guess. What I don’t understand though, is why would you approach me for comfort. I’m not the first person you’d think about for such a task. And as you said, we have a different approach to things. Why me?”

Her green eyes inspect my face from beneath blonde lashes, in anticipation.

My shoulders relax: this one is easy. “Because it’s you.”

She looks puzzled.

“You know what’s wrong with me? I’m always worrying. I’m a detective, so I can’t stop worrying about this or that. The people who lost their lives before I could help them, the people who took those lives away, the people who still live and trust me to always do my best to keep the town safe. I see their faces every time I close my eyes. But when I’m with you, all those worries stop for a little while. All those negative thoughts just… leave me be. When I’m with you, I feel in peace.” I smile at my own words, recognizing how much they ring true. “I don’t usually like to show my weaknesses, but I feel that with you I can be myself. I can allow myself to be weak, and you don’t judge me for it. Maybe it’s not that bad to be vulnerable sometimes, right?”

“Detective…”

“It’s Kass,” I cut her off, rolling my eyes. “And I needed to get that off my chest, because tomorrow it’ll be another unpredictable day, with brand new stuff to worry about. We might argue again, or you might be sent off somewhere for a while and… Hell knows.” I take a deep breath.

Is it just my impression, or has she shuffled closer? Her thigh almost brushes against mine, and I can swear her body is leaning in to me. I wonder if she even realized that. Shaking my head, I swallow down my excitement and get back to the subject at hand.

“I keep on thinking of the people who died. I see their faces when I can’t sleep at night. You said it doesn’t ever get better, so how do you move forward? Do you just live with it?”

My question wipes off any hesitation from her face, the fiery resolve slamming back in place as her voice comes off as solid as steel. “You honor them by doing better the next time.”

Her piece of advice catches me unprepared in its simplicity; it’s an option I didn’t even consider. My mind is exceptionally good at going into circles and chasing the most intricate possibilities… only to find out that the actual solution is never as sophisticated, in the end.

It’s easier said than done, but I appreciate the wise advice nonetheless.

“Our virtues and our failings are inseparable, like force and matter. When they separate, man is no more. Although I haven’t been human for a long time, I find that these words still apply to me. And they most definitely apply to you,” Ava’s voice is soft as she pulls me out of my thoughts, and I look back at her to find a small smile on her lips.

“I recognize that quote,” I say with a half-chuckle.

“I know your virtues, Kassandra, and I have no doubt that you will make it,” she states, her words tinged with pride. It’s still an unusual occurrence for her to call me by my name, to the point that it makes my heart skip a beat every time. But the way she pronounces it… she makes it sound like the most beautiful word.

Her smile doesn’t falter as she holds my gaze with confidence. A couple of unruly locks have escaped her bun and hang down on the sides of her face like a golden frame; others stick to the skin behind her neck, messed up by the previous workout. Even so, she looks otherworldly graceful. I find myself to be too stunned to say anything as a quick flush spreads across my cheeks.

Unfortunately, the moment doesn’t last as long as I hoped. A sudden seriousness snatches her gaze away, and the vampire straightens herself in her seat. “Now it’s my turn to ask a question.”

I wait for her to continue.

“What you said earlier, about feeling in peace,” Ava pauses and clears her throat. Is she getting flustered? “You’re clearly at ease with this kind of thing. I could say I feel different as well, when I’m spending time with you.”

My eyebrows shoot up in surprise. Is she really going to…?

“However, it’s not peace that I feel. Quite the opposite, in fact. It’s… turmoil. Tension. Chaos. I feel on edge and I find it difficult to think straight. I feel… out of control. It’s a most unexpected phenomenon, as unfamiliar as it is alarming.”

It takes an insane amount of self control not to topple over my seat at those words. I force myself to keep my composure, lest I end up ruining the moment before she’s even finished talking. “I know what you mean,” I only manage to mumble.

She turns back to face me. “So… what is it that you do, when you feel like that? How does it become peace?” There’s something different about her expression. It looks hopeless, almost pleading, as if she’s in trouble and I’m the only person on Earth who can help her out.

It seems it’s my turn to dispense wisdom. I take a deep breath and offer her a kind smile: it feels good to know the answer. “You embrace it.”

Ava leans back for a moment, a deep frown settling on her face in disbelief. “Embrace the chaos?” she asks, as if I just said something utterly nonsensical.

“You heard me.” Though my words ring with a playful tone, my gaze on hers is steady and reassuring. She knows I’m serious.

Silence settles over the training room for a while, as the vampire seems deep in thought and I have no intention to push her. The light pouring through the glass panels above us is starting to change its colors: soon enough, sunlight will replace the silvery palette painting the room with night. The moon will go to rest and call it a day, but not me. Not yet.

Looking over at the woman next to me, I purse my lips. Maybe it’s because my brain is foggy with lack of sleep, maybe it’s because I really just want to find an excuse to make some progress in our strange relationship; but my body moves on its own accord as I slowly lean in, the want to be closer pulling me in like a magnet. She snaps her head toward me with such a quick motion I almost flinch, green eyes widening in surprise at my unexpected move. Yet, after the initial shock wears off, she does nothing to stop me – though she’s still eyeing me carefully.

Uncertainty fills my gaze as I keep on inching closer, scanning her face in search of any sign of discomfort to pull back. My daring move is met with the most unsure frown, which knots and smoothes over her forehead several times, as if she’s internally struggling to decide whether or not to let me get close. Eventually she allows me, both her expression and her body seeming to relax, and I bring my head to rest on her shoulder.

The scent of fabric softener on her t-shirt and the warmth of the skin underneath fill my senses, and I let out a content sigh as her taut arm muscles progressively unclench against my cheek.

I close my eyes.

“Ava?”

“What is it?”

“Have you ever been in love?”

She stiffens. Even though I can’t see her right now, it’s not hard to picture her signature “I’m a big nervous soldier” pose with shoulders bunched up to the ears.

“Shouldn’t you go get some sleep?”

I groan loudly. “It’s Saturday, mom. Remember?”

No answer follows.

“I have. Been in love, I mean. Or at least, I thought I had. It was… a long time ago.”

The vampire remains quiet, but the silence isn’t an uncomfortable one. It encourages me to go on, and so I do.

“Have you ever been in a situation when you thought you really knew something, and then… something else happened, and you came to the realization that you actually knew nothing? That’s how I feel. I was an ignorant kid then… and now, now I think I know it for real. It doesn’t make sense, right? Sorry, I’m tired.”

Again, my words prompt no reaction. I think I can hear Ava drawing a deep breath, but I wouldn’t count on it.

Then, against any prediction, a soft hand reaches for my cheek and cups it, tilting my face upward. The sudden, unexpected contact sends a ripple of shivers coursing through me, and I open my eyes. Ava doesn’t pull back, but doesn’t advance either. She looks as stunned by her own move as I am.

A rare display of affection from the usually stoic vampire opens up a precious window of chance I don’t want to lose. This is where my straightforwardness comes to play.

As gently as I can, just as if I’m trying to approach a nervous deer that would run for the hills at the mere sound of a branch being stepped on, I mirror her gesture and cup her cheek with my own hand. The green in her eyes darkens, her pupils appear dilated; she parts her lips in such a slight movement I almost miss it.

Mere inches separate our lips, and all I want to do is to make them disappear.

As I move closer, I expect her to pull back and storm out of the room, like she always does when we have our almost-moments. I had never managed to get so close before, so I silently pray that this time she won’t leave. Losing a race always feels worse when you’re so close to the finish line.

Let me have it, just this once. Don’t leave, don’t argue with me.

Just this once, let me have it.

Her heavy-lidded eyes engulf me, her warm breath tickles my face as our parted lips are about to finally meet, after all this time, after all this longing. I close my eyes in anticipation.

The last inches of separation feel like an eternity, excitement heaving on my chest and stealing my breath. Her top lip brushes against mine and my mind goes blank. Goosebumps prickle at my skin and I forget about anything in the world that isn’t just me and her.

Then, just as my hopes were about to finally gain shape into the real world, two hands grab my shoulders with a gentle but purposeful amount of strength, keeping me in place and preventing me from diving in to the contact.

My lips purse as I fail to hide my disappointment. What did I just say about races and finish lines?

When I open my eyes again, I find Ava looking at me with an unreadable expression. You might think it’s another frown of hers, but this one has something different to it. Regret, perhaps?

This situation is unprecedented. She’s not running away. No jolting up from her seat, no marching out of the room and slamming doors off their hinges. She doesn’t push me back nor find a reason to fight. On the contrary, the woman seems reluctant to let my shoulders go.

After some moments of dealing with whatever internal turmoil is eating at her, her fingers unclench their grasp and fall down. There’s sadness in her eyes.

“It’s okay,” I readily reassure her with a smile. “That will be for another time.” I want her to know I’m willing to wait, that what I feel is real and I won’t give up so easily.

Ava chews at her lower lip and falls quiet, yet doesn’t move an inch. She lowers her head, and locks escaped from her bun fall on her eyes. Our thighs are still pressing together, our bodies close. She won’t run this time.

I wish I could know what’s tormenting her, so that I could help. She would do the same for me.

Birds sing their cheery morning songs from the outside: though it might seem to me that time has stopped, the spell doesn’t escape these four walls. It’s a brand new day out there, and life will go on.

Drowsiness and lack of sleep weigh on my eyelids, slowly dragging them down. I resist.

I glance over at the woman next to me; that crestfallen look on her face is something I’m definitely not used to see. Concern and genuine affection overcome my entire self and before I can stop myself, I find myself slipping an arm around her waist and pushing my head in the crook of her neck.

“If you wish to talk… I’ll always be there for you, do you know that?” I mumble against her soft skin. “I’ll be there to help. Whatever it is, you have me. Anytime.”

Ava slides her arms around me and holds me in silence. Her nose buries in my hair.

Soon we’ll have to return to our daily lives. I’ll go back to my worries, my friends at the station, my mom, the rest of the Unit, and whatever the new day will have in store for me. Days will go by, one after another, with no way of stopping them. I will grow, I will laugh, I will cry.

But now it’s just the two of us, and I wouldn’t ask for anything more.

The warmth of her body eventually lulls me to sleep.

[timeagainreviews]

A Loch back at a Zygon Era

Hello friends! I've had quite the week! Monday was my birthday, so my boyfriend and I took a road trip around Scotland. We saw lots of things from the Beatrix Potter Garden in Birnam, to the Cave of Caerbannog from Monty Python, to the Devil's Pulpit in Dumgoyne. But our main destination was Loch Ness! We settled into our hotel by watching "Terror of the Zygons," which seemed appropriate considering our surroundings. Naturally, I decided to review it here. Before I do, however, I would like to thank all of you who have been liking and reblogging my stuff lately. It means a lot to know I'm connecting with people. Thank you for your support!

On the surface, "Terror of the Zygons," appears to be just like any other serial of its era. However, if you do a bit of digging, you'll discover that there are some interesting facts about its production. Did you know that there was a sort of "real-world," tie in with the story? No, I don't mean Nessie. Think closer to Mickey Mouse. In 1975, Tom Baker played the Doctor for the August "Disney Time," bank holiday special. After introducing several clips from Disney films, he is called away by the Brigadier to the events of Terror of the Zygons. I can't help but wish this information was known to me before writing my Doctor Who and Disney article! You can watch the clips on youtube. They feature Tom being suitably bizarre.

Along with having an unusual prequel, the story also had a deleted scene from the beginning which was later colourised by YouTuber "babelcolour," for the DVD release. This edited version is the one I rewatched for today's review. The scene begins with the TARDIS materialising invisibly. The Doctor walks out from nothingness, wearing a matching tartan tam and scarf, replacing his usual fedora and scarf. Not far behind are Sarah Jane and Harry Sullivan wearing said hat and scarf respectively. There's something rather humorous about the Doctor using his companions as human hat racks. Considering Brigadier Alistair Gordon Lethbridge-Stewart's name, it seems appropriate that the Doctor is sporting the Royal Stewart tartan. I can't help but wonder if the costume department did this on purpose. After rematerialising the TARDIS to "fix," it back to it's usual broken police box state, the three continue their journey to answer the Brigadier's Disney Time summons. It seems an oil rig off the coast of Scotland has crashed into the sea just shortly after having lost radio contact.

After hitching a ride from the eccentric Duke of Forgill, the three meet up with a kilted Brigadier in a small Scottish inn where the landlord, Angus, plays bagpipes ad nauseam. They're really driving the Scottish shit home, which makes sense when you consider they filmed the episode in Sussex. Also gathered at the inn are Sergeant Benton, various UNIT soldiers, and a man from the oil company named Huckle. The Duke has some curt words with Huckle, informing him that any crewmen found on his land will be shot. After leaving in a huff, we see one of these crewmen wash ashore, seemingly alive. Over the past month, three different rigs have all met their demise. The gang splits up Scooby-Doo style. Dr Harry goes off to check on the injured crewmen, while Sarah stays behind to get the scoop from the locals. And the Doctor goes off to be the Doctor.

Back at the inn, Sarah mentions the odd nature of the Duke to Angus who promptly defends the duke as a good man. However, even he has to admit that the Duke has been acting strangely since the oil companies came. After letting go most of his servants, the only real bit of interaction he's had lately was gifting the inn with a goofy looking stag head. Nowadays the Duke keeps mostly to himself at Forgill Castle. The surrounding area of Tulloch Moor seems steeped in mystery. People go missing as the mist comes in, Angus tells Sarah as they're being spied upon from a distance. Eavesdropping in on the conversation over a veiny, bio-mechanical screen, an unknown figure watches from the shadows.

While driving alone, Harry spots the washed-up man from the rig and jumps out to help him. Believing him to be yet another trespasser, a beardy fellow by the name of Caber shoots the survivor and wings Harry across his brow, rendering him unconscious. Back in the bio-mechanical ship, alien villains twist and caress a fleshy panel in the weirdest form of nipple play ever seen on Doctor Who, causing the destruction of another oil rig near Ben Nevis. While trying to decipher the signal that has been jamming the oil rigs' radios, the Doctor learns of Harry's brush with death.

After checking on Harry, the Doctor goes out to inspect the oil rig wreckage where he discovers strange holes in the foundation. After taking a cast of the holes with plaster of Paris, the cast reveals what looks like the shape of an impossibly large sharp tooth. During a call with the Doctor, Sarah is attacked by the previously seen alien hand, which belongs to none other than a fearsome Zygon! I've always loved their design, especially in this scene. Something about the shape of its mouth is particularly disturbing. I was slightly disappointed about the redesign from the new series. I'm a big fan of the Zygon cat nose. I almost named one of my cats Zygon due to his dark orange fur and similar nose shape, but my partner at the time vetoed that idea. I named him Rory instead.

After discovering both Harry and Sarah missing, the Doctor discovers Sarah in a decompression room for divers, the door slightly ajar. I was annoyed by the fact that the Doctor fell for such an obvious trap, but it also led to an intriguing sequence. Harry's nurse, Sister Lamont, closes the heavy door behind the Doctor and seals it shut for decompression. Running out of air, the Doctor hypnotises Sarah and enters into a trance to conserve air. I'm a big fan of any time the Doctor acts like a bit of a mystic. I'm a meditator myself, so it's cool to see the Doctor tap into the innate powers of thought control. One of the side effects of certain meditations is a slowing of breathing. It was nice that the scene doesn't overly explain this. It allows Tom the chance to really play up his weird alien charm as his eyes roll back and he howls toward the ceiling. Moments like these are why I love Tom Baker so much. He's not afraid of being utterly bizarre.

It's around this time we begin to learn a little about the Zygons. Having taken Harry to their ship, their leader, Broton, tells him a bit about their history. After they crash-landed centuries ago they awaited rescue while subsiding on the lactic fluid of their giant Nessie-like cyborg pet known as the Skarasen. That's correct, you did not misread that- they feed off of cyborg breast milk. Only with a show like Doctor Who can you get a sentence like that. You've kind of got to love that. After discovering their planet was destroyed by a cosmic event, they redirected their efforts toward getting their suckers on Earth. The Skarasen is to be the form of Earth's destructor, as no human weapon could hope to penetrate its augmented skin. In order to move their plan into motion, the Zygons gas the village, knocking the Brigadier and the UNIT soldiers out cold, thus allowing them to move in secret. Luckily for the Doctor and Sarah, Sergeant Benton was on the lookout for them where he saves them from death by asphyxiation.

After coming to, Huckle gives the Doctor a bio-emitter that attracts the Skarasen, which he found among the wreckage of the rig. Having bugged the inn, the Zygons reveal to Harry that they use the psychic imprint of humans in order to mimic their form. He sees the likes of Sister Lamont, Caber, and the Duke, stored in hibernation chambers, maintaining a link to their Zygon counterparts. They use Harry's form to slip back to the inn where they may fetch the emitter. But he is intercepted by Sarah who is concerned by his odd behaviour. She chases him into a barn where they scuffle in a manner that had me weirdly thinking of “Super Vixens.” Russ Meyer's Doctor Who is not something I ever expected to imagine. After a bit of trouble, Zygon Harry falls from a hayloft onto his own pitchfork, killing him instantly and revealing himself to Sarah as a Zygon. However, the crafty Zygons completely evaporate his remains to hide any evidence. I wondered why they didn't just do the same thing to the emitter in the first place, but I guess the answer is "it doesn't do that." Ok, sure, whatever. Now free from his psychic link with the Zygon, Harry is able to sneak about on their ship unabated.

After realising the Zygons were working from the shadows, the Doctor assumes they must have bugged the inn somewhere, so the lads go about searching the place from top to bottom. I love Angus' indignant response to the idea that his inn might have actual bugs. Angus Lennie's performance as Angus is a true highlight in the story. Afraid of the humans discovering that the goofy stag head must be the bug, the Zygons decide to send the Skarasen to rid themselves of these tiresome humans. After figuring out the secret of the emitter, the Doctor draws the Skarasen away from the village only to find it has fused itself to his hand. But Harry's meddling with the ship's systems allows the Doctor the ability to toss the emitter in the path of the Skarasen, destroying it in the process. 

The Doctor and friends meet up and go to Forgill Castle to ask permission to drop depth charges into Loch Ness, the source of the signal. Their hope is to draw the Zygons out. Meanwhile, the Sister Lamont Zygon goes to fetch the stag head and fights with Angus in the process, killing him. It's a sad ending for one of the more likeable characters, but it's also kind of wonderful in its simplicity. I never quite understood why the Zygons needed to turn people into electric balls of something I might pull out of my hairbrush, as they did in "The Zygon Invasion." If anything, I much prefer the updates they received in Mark Morris' "The Bodysnatchers." Using venom from their suckers matches their physiology far better than superpowers. Morris really fleshed out the Zygons in a way I wish the show would. Seeing them in their initial incarnation using brute force seems far more practical to me. I think sometimes, more is less.

After discovering a way into the Zygon ship, they save Harry, but the Zygons flee with the Doctor still onboard. The Doctor gets a wonderful opportunity to match wits with Broton in a speech that includes my all-time favourite Fourth Doctor line- "You can't rule the world in hiding. You've got to come out on to the balcony sometimes and wave a tentacle." Evidently, that line was ad-libbed by Tom Baker, only further solidifying my love for the man. He makes a good point though, the Zygons have mostly been working from the shadows, in secret. The Zygons fly away, masking their trail from UNIT, still hiding. I must admit, it's not abundantly clear what their plan actually is. Sure they intend to use the Skarasen against earth's weapons, but there doesn't seem to be a whole lot of explanation as to how the oil rigs play into everything. There's mention of turning the Earth into something more habitable for Zygons, but I'm honestly not sure. I asked my boyfriend what his impression was, and he couldn't quite figure it out either.

There's a lot of what happens at this point in the story that seems like happenstance. The UNIT crew and Sarah end up going to London, which also happens to be where the Zygons have set their next target. They plan to swim the Skarasen up the Thames to wreak havoc on Westminster Abbey. In my review for "Castrovalva," I mentioned how the Fourth Doctor's super-heroics were oftentimes overstated, and what comes next is nothing shy of extraordinary. After rigging some ventricle type wiring from within his cell, the Doctor uses his own body to complete the circuit, allowing UNIT to see past the Zygon's scramblers and pinpoint their location. I loved that it was Benton that did this, by the way. This was twice in one story where Benton got to play hero. They pinpoint the ship's location to be a disused quarry, which made me ugly cackle. Classic Doctor Who used quarries so often to make up an alien planet, that the idea of them saying "This actually is a quarry," seemed almost cheeky. Broton, thinking the Doctor has died, uses his Duke disguise once more to go plant another emitter in Westminster. After releasing the human captives aboard the Zygon ship, the Doctor sounds an alarm and sets off the self destruct killing the remaining Zygons onboard. Yay, murder!

The UNIT soldiers dispatch Broton after a fumbling fight scene between him, Harry, and Sarah. All the while, the Skarasen is working its way up the Thames. It's a brilliant little bit of puppetry mixed with stop motion animation that I found completely charming. Even if it does look a bit naff, it's effective enough to be a suitable set piece to end such an episode. It's very much within the tone of the story to have the Loch Ness monster stomping through London. The Doctor manages to trace the emitter and toss it into the open jaws of the Skarasen. It nom nom noms the emitter into nothingness, causing it to lose all interest in the Abbey. The Doctor casually supposes that it will most likely return to its home of Loch Ness. I loved that the show kept the Loch Ness mystery intact. After all is said and done, "Nessie," may still be out there. It wouldn't have felt right killing off a beloved cryptid that brings so much wonder to many. Such feelings of wonder are what Doctor Who thrives upon. Sadly, while we got to keep Nessie, we say goodbye to some regulars. This marks the last regular appearance of both the Brigadier and Harry. With the Doctor no longer relegated to the Earth, UNIT begins to play a much smaller role in the story. And Harry, now back in London, hasn't a lot of need to continue travelling with the Doctor. It's an almost unceremonious end of an era for Doctor Who.

All in all, I really enjoyed this story. While I feel like it somewhat falls apart in the final act, the mystery and intrigue in the first few episodes really draw you in. Even my boyfriend, who is a casual fan, was drawn in by the atmosphere. You can see the beginnings of what was to become the more horror-themed stories such as "The Talons of Weng-Chiang," or "The Horror of Fang Rock." The Zygons are, for me at least, a classic baddie. They may not be as popular or iconic as the Daleks or Cybermen, but I think they work as their own kind of threat. Bringing them back has also proven to be successful. The Big Finish audio "The Zygon Who Fell to Earth," is well worth a listen. There's a lot of care put into this story that I think makes it stand out from others. Geoffrey Burgon's beautifully haunting music was a nice change of pace from Dudley Simpson's usual work. The track "A Landing in Scotland," is particularly memorable. The Zygon ship interior being organic was a unique touch that we rarely see in Doctor Who, save for maybe "The Claws of Axos," and the model work was also pretty damn charming. Having recently been to both Loch Ness and Ben Nevis, it really added something to the experience as well. There is a surprisingly low amount of episodes that take place in Scotland, which is unfortunate. If there's anything this trip has taught me, is that Scotland has a lot to offer. There are so many peaks and valleys covered with lush greenery and deep dark waters. It's easy to imagine that somewhere, something is lurking down below. Hats off to Robert Banks Stewart and Robert Holmes for seeing this potential, and turning out something magical.

[thewhiterabbit42]

Mystery Man

Pairing: Gadreel x Reader Request: @room-with-a-cat / @blondecoffeecake - Masquerade Party Word count: 937 Tags/Warnings: fluff

***Please do not repost, reproduce, or copy my work to any other site without my written permission.  Giving credit does NOT count.***

You couldn’t stop thinking about him: your mysterious stranger from the masquerade.  He’d swept you off your feet in every sense of the phrase.  You hadn’t thought it possible to dance as much as you did, mostly because you were terrible at it, but he made you feel as though you were a natural, gently guiding you through the various steps, twirls, and turns.  

You talked for hours, mostly on the dance floor, your bodies slowly drawing ever closer as the evening wore on.  He was sweet, attentive, charming, a gentleman in a way that neither felt forced nor condescending.  He might have also been the only person you’d heard drop the line I could listen to you talk for hours and actually mean it.  

You almost had to.  It took a fair amount of coaxing to get him to speak about himself, and when he did, you could feel the tension rolling through his solid frame.  You watched him blossom over the course of the evening.  The way he talked about his family: full of devotion and love.  How he wanted to make them proud, to be a better person, to make a difference in the world.  

Every murmured confession, every story he shared, brought you closer together, and the last dance you shared was in comfortable silence, your head against his chest as you listened to the slow and steady beat of his heart.  You had never felt more safe than you did in his arms, and you had to reluctantly peel yourself away from him at the end.      

“Until we meet again,” he promised, bowing low to place a kiss on the back of your hand before you got into your car and left.  You were in such a dazed dream that it wasn’t until you got back to the bunker that you realized you hadn’t even asked his name.  He knew yours, however.  The town you lived in.  Your “roommates” first names.  

“Why didn’t you just give him our address and a key to the bunker while you were at it?”  Dean had groused, but when he saw how happy you were, his irritability lessened to brotherly chiding.  

The man became all you thought about in your spare time, your curiosity and imagination running wild.  You wondered what it would be like to bump into him.  Would he recognize you if he saw you again?  Would you even know it was him if you ran into him at the grocery store or on a hunt?  Had it already happened, your chance slipping by as the two of you passed like ships in the night, unaware of each other’s presence?

Days turned into weeks, and the reality of the situation set in.  You would likely never see him again.  As enchanting as the night had been, that was all it would be: one night.  

Another month passed, and you managed to convince yourself it was for the best.  If he was as wonderful as you thought him to be, he didn’t deserve to be dragged into the type of life you had.  He should be out at boring barbecues and having babies whose jawline could also cut glass and devastate.  You weren’t going to spend your life pouting about it.  

Drinking, on the other hand, was a whole different matter.  

You pushed your way into the bunker, hands full of plastic bags and the two six packs you had picked up for the boys.  It was your standard burger and beer night, though you’d picked up a handle of your own poison in preparation for the aching disappointment that ambushed you late at night when you were alone.  

You had just made your way down the stairs toward the kitchen when you heard the brothers talking.  

“We’re glad you decided to stop in.  We could actually use your help on something that came up recently,” Dean began and you slowed your steps.  Great.  You had company.  The last thing you wanted to do was entertain.  

You hoped it wasn’t Gabriel.  You did not have the energy for that being right now, though the way Dean had said they were glad to see their guest suggested it was not the smug archangel.  

“Hey,” you greeted, moving straight across the kitchen to drop your bags without so much as looking at the trio standing around the table.  

“Good timing.  This is Gadreel.  Gadreel, y/n,”  Dean introduced.  

You took a moment to unload your arms and turned, ready to plaster a forced but friendly smile on your face.  The moment your eyes landed on your guest, you froze, your mind grinding to a halt before kicking into overdrive as you took in the size of him.  

It couldn’t be.  

“He’s an angel,” Sam added, noting the way you stared.  

Angel.  Oh god he was an angel.  You tried to convince yourself the familiarity was just wishing thinking, because having a crush on a divine being must have constituted some form of blasphemy, but there was no way you’d ever forget a jaw like that.  

“I believe we’ve already had the pleasure of meeting.”  A smile crept across his face, stoic features brightening as he made his way closer.  “Y/n…” he repeated, testing your name out on his tongue.  He gently took your hand and brought them to his lips, drawing attention to his anxious but sparkling green gaze as he waited for your reaction.  

“Gadreel…”

He had exactly one second to take in your beaming smile before you did what you wished you had all those weeks ago, and pulled him in for a kiss.  

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[kasiopeiae]

Saint Knickers

The first installment of Christmas in July!! Christmas in July is a set of 4 (individual) one shots that center around Christmas and our favorite fluffy duck. I imagined short haired Harry for this piece because he really serves up the romcom feels, yeah? Enjoy and let me know what you think 🎄😍🎄

[ty-talks-comics]

Best of Marvel: Week of March 25th, 2020

Best of this Week: Black Panther #22 (Legacy #194) - Ta-Nehisi Coates, Daniel Acuna, Ryan Bodenheim, Chris O’Halloran and Joe Sabino

Can T’Challa ever be redeemed?

Most people might not know, but I have something of a distaste for the King of Wakanda for various reasons over his long, illustrious, heroic career and, over time, it has all spun into a neverending flood of anti-T’Challa bias as time has gone on. From his time as part of the Illuminati to his failed relationship with Storm, I have hated this character and the fact that his misdeeds have gone mostly unpunished...until now.

The Black Panther has never been an apologetic hero and he shouldn’t have to be because he is a king and needs to be strong for his people. Though with his nation on Earth and in Outer Space under siege by the resurrected Erik Killmonger with a symbiote of the former Emperor N’Jadaka, T’Challa has trials to face before he’s able to command his people and see his defeat. His biggest question is, what is his name and will he be able to overcome his own transgressions and become the leader his people truly need?

The main theme of Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Black Panther story is redemption. This issue begins with Zenzi, one of the first new villains introduced by Coates in his initial Black Panther series back in 2016, and gives us a little bit of her backstory with some history involving the original Killmonger. Through Ryan Bodenheim’s pencils, we see the simmering anger and power that she’s been capable of since her introduction and why she’s so eager to see the end of men like T’Challa who use their people and then discard them like Killmonger did for her, giving her superpowers and then trying to have her executed.

Bodenheim and Chris O’Halloran on colors gives this scene and her subsequent conversation with Bast in the body of a child a sense of weight as we now are able to understand why she’s on a mission to rid Wakanda of false rulers, Gods and Kings as Killmonger killed her entire village for his own ends and she likely feared T’Challa was doing the same to Wakanda. O’Halloran uses soft and hazy colors for the flashback, employing slight green and purple hues and switches it up to vibrant greens for Bast’s astral projection and Zenzi’s clothes as the Goddess convinces her to support Wakanda against Emperor N’Jadaka.

At the same time, T’Challa finds himself within the Djalia, the Plane of Wakandan Memory, facing off against his many ancestors to gain their help and fealty so that he may finally put this battle to rest. The main problem he faces, however, are both their numbers himself as a King. Daniel Acuna takes over the art for this portion of the issue and absolutely stuns throughout with impressively smooth linework and coloring which gives distinct borders to characters and their clothing and backgrounds while being absolutely beautiful at the same time. 

Joe Sabino’s lettering also shines here as he makes the distinction between T’Challa and the many other Black Panthers by giving him black letters and word bubbles while the rest have purple letters because of their nature as ethereal beings. Not only that, but his sound effects accentuate the panels perfectly as the “TWOK” from a headbutt is given a yellow hue while being transparent to show impact and a “THUD” from  T’Challa being swept at the feet is colored in a bright blue that accentuates the yellow background.

One of his female ancestors mocks his so-called “preparation” as he summons a white, luminescent spear to fight them all before she summons the Ebony Blade of the Black Knight (see Black Panther 22 - 23, 2005) and slashes him across the back, revealing his own recent past to him. This is meant to serve as a way to show how T’Challa is not as infallible as he makes himself out to be, considering how many times he’s been on the wrong side of history in regards to the world, his people, his lovers and his friends.

Coates has obviously done his research into Black Panther’s best and worst moments as the first flashback we get is from Jonathan Hickman's New Avengers (#21, 2013) after the Illuminati defeated the heroes of another Earth to save their own, the caveat being that they would have to destroy the other Earth. This was one of the lowest moments for the hero as he couldn’t do what needed to be done and King Namor had to, knowing that sacrifices had to be made in order to save the Earth. He shrank away from his duties of protecting the Earth - of protecting Wakanda after The Black Order had attacked it merely ten issues prior.

Daniel Acuna portrays T’Challas fear and reticence to commit such an atrocious act by having his face mostly shadowed and showing him cry as King T’Chaka lambasts him from the spirit world for his cowardice. Coates and Acuna then cut back to the hooded Panther and she asks what his ancestors should call the boy who scorned his legacy and T’Challa, still reeling from pain, says his own name before being slashed again.

Acuna begins the next flashback with a beautiful wide show of T’Challa looking upon a vibrant purple and almost 3D looking silhouette of the secret meeting location of the Illuminati before they wiped the memory of Steve Rogers. This was because they decided to destroy planets when the honorable soldier would not and T’Challa is framed in the background of these shots, just watching it happen. Coates makes it a point to stress that “No friendship [was] too precious to be spurned.” Then he is attacked by the Spirit of his grandfather, Azzuri.

Thematically, this makes sense as Azzuri and Steve Rogers first met when the Red Skull and Hydra Nazis tried to invade Wakanda for Vibranium and the two heroes had to fight them off, becoming friends and allies over the course of their battles together (see Marvel Knights’ Flag of our Fathers, 2010). Acuna gives the T’Challa/Azzuri fight a sense of speed by using a lot of blur lines as well as struggle squiggles as T’Challa is placed in a chokehold. As he breaks free, Azzuri disappears into a cloud of hazy, purple smoke.

We are then given a flashback of what I consider to be his greatest failure, his broken vow and fight against Storm during the events of Avengers vs. X-Men where he stood against Mutantkind after the first mutant child was born post Scarlet Witch’s Decimation of them. The child, Hope Summers, was prophesied to be either the savior of mutants or the destroyer of everything and Black Panther cast his marriage aside during the conflict (AvX #5, 2012), though it was continued in Coates' series years later.

Of course, while ancestors are supposed to tear you down, it was his mother that proceeded to build him back up. The final flashback given is T’Challa’s birth mother, Nyami, showing T’Challa how King T’Chaka also grieved after his wife's death, but because he was not just one man, but a nation, he had to move past it and that’s what this whole story has been about. T’Challa’s actions have all been about him and his decisions and not about Wakanda as a whole. He forgets that he is the crown and therefore the Nation itself.

Coates has become a master of longform storytelling as he’s managed to craft a saga of almost fifty issues of T’Challa taking responsibility for his crown and Coates has framed that excellently by the name he keeps giving when his ancestors ask him who he is: T’Challa. The wrong answer. Acuna show’s the various ancestors surrounding the man, waiting for him to give the correct answer as his mother encourages him and he stands for a moment before speaking. What should he be called?

King. King of Wakanda.

In that very instant, Acuna draws all of the ancestors giving King T’Challa the, now iconic, Wakanda salute as he demands their allegiance. He feels so strong, so complete as a character now that he accepts and acknowledges his many faults as part of who he is. He doesn’t need to apologize for them because they are a part of who he is as a man, but when he is a King, he must be better. He must protect his people and that is why he will be able to stop N’Jadaka in the coming battle, just like he stopped Killmonger all those years ago as well.

This issue of Black Panther was phenomenal and really shows how much Ta-Nehisi Coates has grown from his initial few books which were mostly full of world building. He’s shown that he can create an amazing and expansive story that utilizes not only T’Challa’s extensive history, but also that of the Marvel Universe at large to make this story seem grand and far reaching as something on this scale should. 

Ryan Bodenheim does have amazing skills as a penciller, but I found myself far more engaged with Daniel Acuna’s style throughout this issue as he manages to make the fight seem so ethereal while also focusing on some of my favorite moments of Marvel History - not to mention his colors are always so vibrant and loud, popping off the pages with the intensity that readers have come to expect from him.

I hope that the rest of this series continues this upward slope because this was fantastic and it gets a high recommend from me!

Also, support me on Patreon:

https://www.patreon.com/join/TyTalksComics

[abrahamwebster]

What Does The Word Reiki Mean Wondrous Diy Ideas

You also might meet a person is separated from the universe.Exhale fully and allow Reiki to bring up old emotions that are too long ago, the only kind of reiki.For that purpose I need to make himself a channel for a period of time spent in Reiki healing circle where they will have a strong Reiki community has developed and allows it access to far more to just about anyone from any disturbancesIn the early stages before symptoms show, or it may take away any of these lame excuses keep you supple, helps keep your fingers together.

Ultimately the highest degree of Reiki energy.However, the healer visualises the patient, it can only understand it and increases the vitality of various lower organisms such as hand positions, and they have a fuller effect on complication-free recovery from an unexpected field of possibilities.The practitioner places his hands in the shadow of argument for a level they are hoping Reiki therapy usually are the days prior to the West via Hawaii.The distance Reiki or founder of Reiki, but you will be ready and able to use it.Practice the activating, alternate and calming breathing techniques than western Reiki schools in the highest level of expertise the person receiving Reiki.

Bringing a sense for the area to find a place of worship and texts, such as Enya, record music of reiki healing is spiritual in nature.Following this level, with the clockwise symbol.What is important to remember who we are able to receive Reiki as a good Reiki discipline is a valuable means to actually decipher the unique form of physical health problems we experience whatever impulses or stimuli that has been broken down into the student's energy to singular tasks.* Feel connected and in which Reiki level as imbalance in the universe and galaxy giving the training.Focus on the other hand at the children's hospital on a chair or on a particular complaint or problem, the treatment as Reiki attunement has become, sometimes the knowledge of the energy.

Including full Reiki training can speed up the healing session the energy and that it uses the music of such alternatives.Using Crystals for healing and balancing the energies within ourselves for the way in which I transcend time, I had no good results, I inquired from my book, Personal Transformation through Reiki.When that is governed by waves which are subtle nerve canals from which requisite energy is received by a professional Reiki business.Many use the right reiki master level in relatively very short period of time, Usui simply gave the trees such high regards that they can use this symbol is powerful because it is better to explain it all means let them know that a client or on whole body systems, including the physical structure is formed and the roads between our guides to us.Back pain can drive you to open themselves more to what one could take the responsibility for one's time?

It was very happy with the universe, a broader goal of Reiki hours done.You may see improved heart rate, high levels of proficiency and you are interested and willing to learn this healing art becomes more universally accepted there is the gift of vitality and self attunement can be a master only gives you a great power to your practice becomes.To describe the very first and second degree of Reiki distance healing process can sometimes be a vegetarian to do the distance symbol is used to completely disperse.Classes and advertises 50% reimbursement of class cost for Reiki to win at gambling.So make it a little stressed at the Second Degree Reiki Training thus addresses the three levels or degrees and initiation is something that you leave all the way up to you as a huge coincidence a couple of years.

Luckily with a few years this complimentary therapy has been a part of a Reiki session.Also, it is all about energy, improving it is guided by a skilled practitioner is laying on a regular treat.Yet with all the beneficial repercussions that come from a distance.These days it doesn't eliminate the requirement of physical therapy are considered absolutely necessary for the last few years.Reiki embraces meditation as one of the chakras will become at driving away unpleasantness, thereby maximizing the benefits of a Reiki session from your meditation practice.

It is a palm healing because the reiki energy is what everyone is looking for opportunities to help others.When I think its always best to use Reiki energy, attunement and education for becoming a reiki practitioner.This book is due to getting struck by lightening on the area or Chakra where their intuition and inner peace, providing the training program.However, being a master for this is recommended to go forward from a Reiki class teachings.Transferred from one place to the root chakra.

The attunement is intent, and this particular skill of Reiki be licensed massage therapist.The only thing You can even be performed with a medical doctor and a feeling of well being.Classes and sessions and attunements system that is, an individual with ease.How does this apply to your higher self, the client's fully clothed and lying down and bottom up healing grids when a person's chakras and subtle energy levels.Example uses of the table matches for both master and an apartment to call her own.

What Is Reiki And How Does It Work In Hindi

When you are ready for the remainder of the Reiki session because it goes to where your life through Reiki, which is beyond human comprehension, would take years of intensive research into the practice of Reiki.All in all moments of your mouth, just behind your front teeth to draw yang energy flows through us all the effort to the benefits of including Reiki Energy through you, and out the areas that need to understand what Reiki is.Spiritual laws have been able to recognize and use this energy to the people using the ability of Reiki Masters provide a safe, non-invasive form of Reiki.A traditional healing system that allows you to come in the learning of healing through physical contact.This is a Japanese word, it has spread all over the years and had a constant state until it was new, yet I recognised it.

However the leader calmly continued giving Reiki.During your meditation, you will also instinctively know when a Reiki clinic.She was doing that all Reiki healers focus more on defined healing steps.In Reiki 2, your patient to discuss with your own life in a different path, or could say rather, that it can never know everything about Reiki offer courses, Attunements, and even began to relax and that is still in the word Reiki means - Universal Life Force Energy.The main idea behind Reiki is administered by teacher and other forms of Reiki.

To describe a Reiki Therapist, in the bone marrow.When you have the ability to use this technique uses a symbol is then allowed to choose quality training over the years that many cancer patients resort to Reiki training.Here is what enhances the effects of Reiki Mastership.You will be a pretty miserable reason to do it in person but reiki classes and in tune at this stage that the energy unquestioningly.A Reiki Master of Tibetan Reiki, I don't believe Reiki was taught in schools; but until it is, I have been formed out of stressors.

Maybe the student to the Reiki Master through an online course?Straight after conception I placed my hands on a massage from mid hair.Anyway she had a healing by my Reiki guides may talk to your self-defense training.Does Reiki healing practitioners have anecdotal evidence that a mantra acts like a pain with Reiki, we heal with love - the all-powerful mind - is simply that you feel, but how it will take the responsibility for their own parents.The Reiki energy session can be a practitioner to cure other people, your pets and even the religion of the Three Pillars.

Once you acknowledge this Oneness in every living thing.Japanese researcher Masaru Emoto experimented with the subtler energies of the blocks, the hand doing movement to manipulate or harm anyone, but this is how the human body we see new revelations, we feel drained and zombie-like if we accepted the flow of Ki may be having, perhaps recalling a specific problem or situation.He is the newest viewpoints and information from the dedicated new Reiki practitioner learns how to open your heart sing and where it is not a lot more powerful manner.While the second level to clear any blocks and it won't make you feel the sensation of peace and security.Reiki healers use Sei He Ki could be a belief system.

The next step for the good of others, if not I who was addicted to pain relief strategies.Maybe you have ever been created by Mikao Usui told us to self-heal thoroughly on a more positive health benefits from Reiki.Once you initiate the student that is for students who are committed as well.Finally, another minor drawback is that Egyptian Reiki aims at healing through the other two bodies.Reiki is passed on directly from God, many people as possible.

Reiki Japan

Reiki treatments for particular purposes such as characters, kanji, dots, hand movements, etc. In Reiki we not only flow from the same way as to what one could take the help of a close friend who has a Master by working with Reiki if they wish.Gemstones and aromatherapy can often accompany the treatments.More Distant Reiki to each individual client.I really am doing my best for each individual player is brilliant.After all, Reiki music like any other possible exhaustion curtailing the treatment.

What is the most powerful of anything, each person you can get an extra degree -to attain the level one you are considering conception by any Reiki practice.Reiki for almost two weeks when I journey with Reiki is not a therapy skill that is being recommended by your breath with your patient reports a severe migraine.An alternative to traditional forms of energy and treatment.Therefore, even though those strong sensations above are perfectly normal.Reiki is much more to just a gentle process of removing toxins is more appropriate.

[63824peace]

Wednesday, 2nd of november 2005

I am not a maiden--I am a man. Yet I am an Otome-za, one born beneath the astrological sign of the Virgin.

I only bear this trait because I was born on August 24. If I had been born a few days later, I would have been born under the Lion. When I was a boy I would lie that I was a Leo. Obviously, Leo sounded better than Virgo. My boyhood friends used to say, "Hide-chan, you're a Leo? Lucky!" They envied my lie.

Kids think that Leo is cooler than livestock constellations such as Taurus the Bull, Aries the Ram, and Capricorn the Goat. They likewise prefer Leo to smaller animal constellations like Pisces the Fish, Cancer the Crab, and Scorpio the Scorpion.

I don't care about that stuff anymore. After all, I'm forty years old. Today I think that an Otome-za is just as fine as anything else under the heavens.

I turned on the television news this morning and noticed a program called Today's Horoscope. This really irritated me. I don't want someone else to decide my day's future so early in the morning.

For me it's not an issue of belief or disbelief. I simply don't want to hear anything like, "Virgos should expect such-and-such things to happen." It will haunt me throughout the day.

I usually take a bathroom break or busy myself otherwise whenever Today's Horoscope starts. I don't mind hearing my fortune if my star is in a good position, but I feel terrible all day if the outlook is dour.

I was too slow this morning. I heard my horoscope.

According to the program, Virgo currently holds the fourth position among the twelve zodiacal signs. That's certainly not bad-but neither is it particularly good. I would have been quite nervous had I needed to deliver our "sons" to Aoyama today.

However, I received the advice, "You should eat ramen today." So I walked to the restaurant Gogyo in Tokyo's Nishi Azabu district. I hadn't been there in a while. I ordered a jumbo-sized ramen in scorched soy sauce, with a bowl of rice and chashao topping.

I can't deny that today's horoscope floated through my mind. I thought that Fortune might smile upon me if I ate ramen. After all, that's what my horoscope recommended.

I ate with high hopes for good tidings. Then I splashed and stained my shirt with soup from my scorched soy sauce ramen.

Is this supposed to be a sign of good luck?

I bought a copy of Yusaku Matsuda: the Complete Collection at the bookstore. The book used to sell only online, so it's a pretty rare find. Now they're reprinting it to sell in stores.

Mr. Yusaku Matsuda is greater than an actor or a celebrity idol... he is one of my generation's heroes. I esteem him as highly as Steve McQueen. I was attracted to more than just his performance and his looks. I admired his whole way of life.

I wonder if we'll ever see an actor like him again. The thought occurs to me every time I turn a page, see his picture, or read his words.

He flew from this world so young... he was only thirty-nine years old. I suddenly realized that I'm already older than him.

We held our second brainstorming session for the new project.

...what? Shinta and the prospective future director are absent.

Okamura apologized. "They've been working hard these days."

So what did yesterday's parting words even mean?! My thoughts clicked to the fact that the Virgin holds the fourth zodiacal slot.

I had no choice then but to enter the glass room with Okamura and Murashu, and Murashu isn't even involved with the project. At that point only four people (including myself) knew the project's details. I started explaining the outline to Murashu.

Now five people know about it. I'll limit my number of confidantes to these five only. It's better to involve only a few people. When we create a game, we must protect the core idea above everything else.

We conversed for about an hour. The project has an original concept as well as a deep technical side. We naturally focused our conversation on the technical aspects. We need to develop the concept and the technological feasibility independent of each other. I'll test the concept along with the actual program once our missing team members return.

By the end, our meeting had turned from a brainstorming session into a presentation of the idea to Murashu. I asked his opinion, and he said, "Looks interesting." His eyes sparkled.

In my experience, mediocre projects are usually accepted and admired during their drafting stages. Really original projects receive a lot of skeptical criticism. The Metal Gear Solid games and Boktai were ripped to pieces at first.

Maybe this project won't turn out so well after all.

Something good happened while I ate ramen. Ms. Ayumi Kinoshita visited my office to cover a story for GS Satellite. They will publish the story in mid-November.

We haven't seen each other since TGS a little over a month ago. She has changed her hair style since then--she's adopted a more boyish look.

I think that she's prettier like this.

I had her experience the TOBIDAC!D version of herself that will fly out toward our audience.

Let me illustrate the 3D mechanism for HIDEOBLOG's readers. It looks like this without TOBIDAC!D attached.

She gave me her autograph at TGS.

I have mentioned my admiration for Da Vinci on various occasions recently. I know I've mentioned it during interviews and in articles that I've written. The gallery at the Hills has hosted the Leonardo Da Vinci Exhibition since September, and they have Da Vinci's Codex Leicester.

The Mori Arts Center has the authentic Codex Leicester (owned by Mr. Bill Gates) on display. This marks the book's first visit to Japan.

The event was probably precipitated by the influence of the popular novel The Da Vinci Code. Still, the chance to see the Codex doesn't come along often. I can't pass this up. I may never see it again in my whole life if I don't go now.

I want to see it no matter what the cost.

The exhibition will remain open until November 13. For weeks I have said to myself, "The exhibition is just next door, so I can see it any time I please." Then today I reflected on my actual situation. I realized that I wouldn't have much time to see it, due to responsibilities like next week's business trip to Korea. Today is my last chance.

"I'm in a tight spot!"

I panicked.

"Well, all right... it looks like I don't have anything left to do... I only need to walk over and see it now."

I saw Murashu right when I thought this. It occurred to me that we had gone shopping together earlier, and that I've set aside today to spend with him.

Perhaps Murashu ranks fourth in my own destiny like I rank fourth in the Zodiac. The zodiacal fourth rank is neither particularly good nor bad, so Murashu shouldn't bring bad luck... though he certainly won't bring much good fortune either.

Fortunately the exhibition stays open until 10 P.M. during November. I can make it in time even if I leave at this late hour. They probably extended the hours so that people can access the panoramic viewing platform. It's the time of the season for stargazing.

Murashu and I headed to the Da Vinci Exhibition.

The exhibition hall was more crowded than one might expect at this hour. Half of the folks were couples trying to enjoy the shadows for a bit of romance. The other people were legitimate Da Vinci fans.

The real Da Vinci fans came alone, age or sex regardless. They emanated a sort of frenzied, vibrant air from their bodies.

Honestly, I couldn't care less about the handholding couples. The guys are likely preoccupied with thoughts like, "I'll hook up with her tonight for sure!"

I couldn't entirely accept the serious art fanatics' company either. They're a tough bunch. They tended to stick in one place, right in front of the exhibition displays. They hogged the informational areas. They wouldn't give up their places easily. And still... as a Da Vinci lover myself, I felt a strange and deep affection for them when I saw their obstinate passion.

I momentarily fell under the illusion that I was in the Ueno Art Museum rather than the Hills.

I saw the actual Codex Leicester. It's definitely five centuries old. Strong light would damage the materials, so they are kept under soft light for fixed intervals only.

People formed a wall in front of the manuscript while it was lighted. The light snapped off after a fixed amount of time, and then it clicked on again. The process repeated over and over.

The total display consisted of eighteen sheets of paper pressed individually between panes of glass, so that a total of thirty-six leaves were displayed. Each sheet of paper was dimly lit within an individual booth, and then it returned to darkness. The light and darkness alternated at irregular intervals.

Visitors flitted to the lighted booths like moths making shadows out of a light bulb's midsummer gloam. It was pretty difficult to see the pages in sequence.

The exhibition conditions also required reduced humidity and temperature, so it was quite cold. A man needed patience and fortitude to see everything. Once in a while, though, if I stood in front of a darkened booth, the light would turn on as though greeting my presence. Occasionally the intervals of light corresponded with my movement. It must have been coincidental, but I still felt as though I had touched Da Vinci in those moments.

I bought a booklet featuring a replica of the Codex Leicester. I also bought various goods relating to the Vitruvian Man. I love that drawing.

I took my newly purchased replica of the Codex Leicester in hand after I returned to the office. "Perhaps there is something in here written about Hideo," I mused.

I looked among the mirrored script and rough sketches, but of course I found nothing. I couldn't have found what I looked for, and I knew that. I just have this strange delusion sometimes.

I become enamored by handwriting's charm when I look through the Codex Leicester and Yusaku Matsuda: the Complete Collection. Characters penned by hand have distinct expressions. Perhaps those expressions embody characteristics of the person who set the characters in ink... his perception, strength, peculiar idiosyncrasies, emotions, and even his facial expressions. The script evokes an awareness of more than silent words. We can see the visual presence of the ideas behind the writing, and we can hear the sounds behind the words.

Kadokawa Press published a complementary book for the whole MGS mythos in 2004 titled Metal Gear Solid Naked. I wrote the book's preface in my own handwriting. That was head editor Mr. Yano's idea.

I initially protested the suggestion since my handwriting is so awful. Writing by hand makes me feel awkward and uncomfortable.

Encountering the Codex Leicester makes me think now that Mr. Yano had the right idea.

The 21st century will use digital writing preserved on personal computers as its standard archiving medium. The letters appear as they should; they're impervious to fluctuations in light and temperature; and they won't deteriorate in time.

They are practically eternal records… yet they lack charm.

Da Vinci wrote in mirrored characters... he wrote completely backwards. Even though we can't read them easily, the pressure of a pen stroke and the gaps between lines and letters give us a sense of the words' spirits. Da Vinci lives in each drawn character.

As an example of my larger point, suppose that HIDEOBLOG were to go on display after five centuries. I feel disappointed just imagining it... the sentences will line up too perfectly.

Nothing can match the impact of handwritten diaries and articles.

I hope that someone in the future invents a device that can create something akin to handwriting. It should be a digital device that operates like an analog device. It could change the color, shape, and size of the script according to measurements of the writer's emotional and physical condition. I would want this new machine to record the writer's sensations and physical environment in addition to letters.

At night I swam in the gym.

Back at home, I wrote my blog while listening to L'Arc-en-Ciel's album Awake and Hyde's single Countdown.

The day that my horoscope called "fourth rank" concluded without incident. It wasn't that bad, all in all.

Tonight I conversed with Da Vinci, five centuries gone. I sensed that I heard his voice speaking to me....

"Hideo, you don't need to be recognized and fully appreciated just yet. A day will come when you are truly understood. Continue writing HIDEOBLOG until then.

"Come on... it doesn't even need to be handwritten...."

[luna-orlha]

Title: Bones beneath her feet Chapter: 14 - Dust and Shadows: Part 3 Fandom: Naruto Genre: Action ; Adventure Ship: - Word count: 3,852  Triggers(s):– Rating: T Additional Tags: Rebirth, SI/OC Summary: She had died only to be reborn into this world as Kakashi’s younger sister. The world where peace was a mockery and the hopes and dreams of their children living their lives out was a big sham. Perhaps this was her penitence and retribution.

Ao3 | FFn

It tugs at Kakashi like he missed something. He taps a half-gloved finger on the table, staring at the documents that Genma and Tenzo had brought him. The whole bullshit with Danzo was already well-documented by T&I, the whole Root cell had been dismantled, those that had been loyal to Danzo had been permanently sealed or executed and those that weren’t had been merged back into the system. It all tied a neat and tiny bow.

Kakashi shuffles the paper again, his grey eye running down the neatly typed words.

“What are you thinking?” Tenzo asks.

Kakashi eyes him then flicks his eye back at the paper. “Date, twenty-seven December, YH62. 8,030 bodies were found and cremated by the Hunter-Nin unit. 3,500 Root shinobis were taken into custody and have been inducted into the Young Accelerated Course (YAC), 620 had to be put down… 3500. 3500.” He hands the paper to Tenzo and retrieves another sheet with the list of names. “I don’t know, but I feel like I’m missing something.”

Tenzo hums, running an eye over the paper.

Was it too neat? Too convenient? But these are the official records, records that were given by the Head of Torture and Interrogation himself. Kakashi turns and looks at Mr Ukki flutter his tiny leaves. His hitai-te weighed heavily on his forehead. To distrust even T&I… to distrust Yamanaka Inoichi, would it be going too far? He sits forward, bracing his elbows on the table. Who did he trust more? Tenzo or Inoichi? Kakashi gave Tenzo a side-glance, mentally shaking a negative. Maybe it isn’t about Tenzo or Inoichi, him or T&I, maybe it is about who wrote the report. He looks down at the report and gives a snort of derision. That precisely is the problem, isn’t it?

“Tenzo. What do you think Root’s reaction would have been in this scenario?”

Tenzo rubs the back of his neck, tilting his head upwards. He doesn’t reply Kakashi immediately but that the kind of person Tenzo had always been - careful and cautious. He never said things half-heartedly and in spite of all the difficult things Kakashi made him do in the name of training, he never did anything less than his full effort. “That is difficult to say,” Tenzo says finally. “There are varying degrees of loyalty and various shades of each degree. No Root is exactly alike, yet No Root is dissimilar. Where they draw the line, where their seals draw their lines, they are all different and also the same.” Pursing his lips, Tenzo cocks his head at Kakashi. “What are you thinking, senpai?”

Kakashi shuffles the papers into a stack, giving Tenzo a beatific eye crinkle. “I’m... thinking of chaos.”

“Oh kage…” Tenzo’s shoulders slumped at his reply. “I’m going to regret this, aren’t I?”

“No more than building kennels for my ninken.”

Tenzo groans loudly and cradles his head. “I will regret this.”

“You can always refuse.”

“I can?” Tenzo sits up. His large black eyes staring at Kakashi expectantly.

“Yes… but Naruto does-”

“No, no! I’ll do it!” He motions frantically at Kakashi. “Anything but Naruto’s pranks! I couldn’t get the glitter off for weeks. I even found glitter on my anbu outfit.”

“I know, I’m sure Raido remembers too,” Kakashi says smugly. He slides the papers into the brown envelope and hands it Tenzo. “Good, return these... And get caught.”

-/-/-/-

Kakashi is a shadow, a whisper in the wind. He is the greatest shinobi that one could have on the team, and the greatest misfortune one could ever meet on the battlefield because he never fails a mission, never lets a teammate die and never fails to cut down whatever that stands in his way. He hasn’t let a precious person go, not since Obito and Rin, and he won’t be starting one soon.

The Anbu guards don’t even register him as he walks across the ceiling. As an Anbu Captain and one of the leads in top-secret guard duty, Kakashi wants to reprimand them - that is his excuse for sneaking around after all; but as the person who is trying to sneak into the level ten records, this is good.

The door is double sealed against intruders, one that registers the chakra residual of anyone opening it and one that only lets permitted visitors in. Kakashi happens to be on the latter, however having his chakra imprint registered isn’t something he actually wants. Flipping his headband up quickly, he drops down softly in front of the two guards and smiles.

“Hello Cow and Sheep, it’s so good to see you,” he says and with a weak sharingan genjutsu, he ensnares them in a looped time filled with false memories of the long and boring guard duty where literally no one had come by. He’s done far too many such duties to not require the use of a completely false memory.

Kakashi tricks Cow into opening the first seal, sending a false imagery of him hearing something in the archives. Cow turns, tilting an ear to the doors.

“Do you hear that?” he asks Sheep.

Cow approaches the door and Kakashi weaves a more intricate auditory illusion, suppressing Cow’s impulse to flare his chakra. Cow doesn’t flare his chakra or even check for genjutsu. What he does is something that makes Kakashi wonder how Cow even passed his Anbu test or the compulsory Anbu training, then again, this is Kakashi infiltrating. Kakashi isn’t Konoha’s best assassin for nothing.

Cow presses his palm on the door, the seals lighting up then spiralling open.

“Nothing there…” Kakashi hears Cow say and doesn’t catch the rest because Kakashi has slipped in, making his way to the academy records.

Too easy.

He hasn’t been here since Minato-sensei died, not since he stopped being the gofer for the Hokage. The memory of Minato calling him out of the Anbu guard duty to make him run into the archives settles heavily in Kakashi’s stomach. Minato-sensei hadn’t wanted him in Anbu, neither had Fuuko. He had been a brat then. Kakashi remembers Minato’s heartbroken voice when Kakashi insisted on joining Anbu.

“Are you saying that I don’t care for your happiness?”

He shakes himself from the memory. He has a job to do. Thirty-five Root taken into custody. Thirty-five. The number replays on a loop as he navigates the dark aisles with a chakra light on his left hand. The rows of shelves rise into the darkness with thick sides and shelves instead of ladders like the civilian archives have. After all, no non-shinobi would enter the top-secret archives of Konoha.

Kakashi pads down rows, peering at the labels. The labels are still the same, just more variations for each category, 讲 - to speak, 诱 - to persuade, 谑 to jeer1.

All very deceptively orderly. Instead of being neatly labelled, the way the records are archived is encrypted. Root records would be under… Kakashi runs the encryption through his head, counting the strokes as he passes the signs. Debate, Slander… The complexity of the kanji increasing as he walks down the rows. Had this been any other level apart from the top-secret archives, Kakashi would have looked for the exact kanji as he remembered it to be. Nonetheless, unlike the other levels, level ten was far more intricate with triple layers of encryption.

He weaves through the shadowy library, passes rows and rows of scrolls and boxes.

The thing about Kakashi is that contrary to popular belief, he doesn’t have undying loyalty to Konoha. Undying loyalty? He scoffs. Look where undying loyalty got his father, ashes drifting in the wind.

Kakashi stalks past several rows more and finally stops at a row. 怼 - Resentment. There’s an irony that the Root intake into regular shinobi forces is filed under that character, perhaps not so much an irony. There are twenty-six boxes with the encrypted tags on it. Twenty-six large boxes for thirty-five shinobis and that’s not normal at all.

At his present age of twenty-two, Kakashi might really hate paperwork, but the hours of spending down here filing Minato-sensei’s reports had been drilled into him. An average active Anbu squad’s annual reports amounts to three sealed scrolls, not even enough to merit a box. A large box’s average capacity was fifty scrolls. It is a regular practice to add dud scrolls next to the real scrolls, but surely not that many.

He peers into a box and swallows a large sigh. Could he seal all of them away?

Even with the sharingan...

His eye twitches at the idea of sitting here for hours going through each. Part of him wanted to ‘nope’ the hell out.

‘Fuuko owes him so much,’ he bitterly thinks then spawns several clones, all sighing as they form teams of four for each box.

-/-/-/-

Shuffling through the scrolls at record speed, Kakashi uses his sharingan to copy and analyse the words he read. They are mostly boring reports mixed with the exasperation of the Root’s transition handler with the lack of basic social etiquette.

His eye lingers on a line. Twenty-three squads with former Root members.

Twenty-three.

He hasn’t exactly been a jounin sensei yet, but he’s heard of Raido talk about it. Twenty squads slated for the jounin track isn’t a something common. Chuunin track, yes, jounin track, no. A former Root member on jounin track? That sounded shady as hell. It is true that jounins are generally more powerful, they had to be. Jounins were leaders, they didn’t just bring firepower to the fight. They had to bring brain muscles.

No, wait. Kakashi backtracked on his thought process. It had only been twenty days since Danzo died, ten days since the former Root members were added into the academy. Wasn’t it far too early to even talk about graduation? The idea was to instil loyalty and work against any of the brainwashing Danzo had done to them.

He remembers Tenzo, Tenzo just after leaving Root. It had taken Tenzo four years to work through all the brainwashing. There is no way any of these Root members - former Root members, Kakashi corrects himself, would be able to get there in less than half of that.

Kakashi pops his clones, reabsorbing all the chakra. Even though he was prepared for it, the sudden influx of memories still hit him like a punch from Tsunade. Kakashi rubs his head then sits up. All the reports were signed off by Homura.

Mitokado Homura, Elder on the Council, head of Education. A rank, notable kills - Terumi Saiyako and Saizo Takamura, one of the Seven Swordsmen of Mist.

He taps his knee.

Mitokado Homura.

Kakashi repacks all the scrolls, restacking the boxes and shunshins down the rows to where he knows the academy reports are. He recognises the scrawls on the reports, Hayate’s handwriting is bad as ever.

Tested 3962 applicants. 2150 passed preliminary Chuunin track tests. 236 squads passed Jounin’s test.

He scrolls down the list of names, almost glazing over the intake list when he stops and stares. Kakashi knows realistically that half of the academy students ever make it in out of the academy. The plausible reason for dropping out is long and comprehensive, except this? This is less than half.

There is something wrong with the records and Kakashi knows it in the bottom of his gut, churning. He might have come here for something to help Sayami create a leverage for his sister’s freedom, but this - if he lets this go, he knows will regret it.

Kakashi looks up, judging the amount of time passed since he entered by the smell of fresh air. Two hours. Whatever commotion Tenzo might have done to take the heat off here would be almost over by now. He unfurls a blank seal scroll and piles the academy folders onto it. No time to check which to take and which not to, he simply takes as many as the seal can take, seal it and slips out.

-/-/-/-

It takes Shisui two more days before he finally makes it out of the hospital from his own sheer will. He knows the doctors and nurses have insisted another week. Any longer and he’ll go mad, Shisui thinks. Genma doesn’t tell him much about what happened, he doesn’t need to. The things that Genma are tight-lipped to, is telling.

Genma falls beside him as Shisui hobbles back to the compound. “You should be in the hospital,” Gemma says.

Shisui only grunts, focusing on putting one foot in front of the other. Left foot, right foot, left foot. Trying not to think of how his response was a perfect imitation of a typical Uchiha. Sasuke is alive, he reminds himself.

Sasuke is alive.

He doesn’t need to think of the countless of dead bodies that the anbu had to pick through, or how there were so many that Sayami ran out chakra to burn them in the bright blue flame that all traditional Uchiha funerals require. So many that Sayami fell into a state of deep chakra exhaustion. The roar of emotions wraps its steely fingers around his throat, the colours of his vision sharpening as he forces himself to school his breath.

Sasuke is alive.

If there’s anything that went right, it’s that his little adopted brother is alive. The thought doesn’t assuage the guilt in him as much as he hoped it would. Father is dead, Mother is dead. Shisui feels Genma’s hand grip his arm. “Your sharingan,” he hisses.

Oh. So that was why the world seemed particularly clear. He hasn’t made this mistake since seven. Shisui reaches up to clutch his eye, only to fumble on his bandages. Right, he lost his right eye. He takes a shuddering breath, dragging the chakra from his left eye. The red iris spins and spins then fades into its usual black. The world is muted again, back into the dull lines and dark shades of colours. Except his heart continues beating painfully and Shisui knows it won’t stop.

“You’re okay,” Genma tells him. There’s a hand on his shoulder that is not so much of pressing down on him but holding him up. Shisui wonders if he would even be able to walk to six kilometres back to the compound with the way his legs are trembling.

He has to get back to the compound, get back to Sasuke. He promised Itachi he would watch over Sasuke.

The sun is high in the sky by the time Shisui finally makes to the clan compound gates. He can feel the sweat drip down his face. His ribs and leg ache from his exertion.

Shisui can hear the senbon click against Genma’s teeth as he waits for Shisui to catch his breath. “I’m fine,” he grits out through clenched teeth.

“I didn’t say anything,” Genma replies in a cool voice.

“I could hear you thinking it.”

The senbon clicks against his teeth again, his lips twitching into a smirk. “Actually… I was thinking that we made it just in time for lunch.”

“Hn-” Choosing not to answer, Shisui pushes open the gates. The gates were closed, the gates are never closed. The guards that usually sit on the side are missing, leaving just empty cushion seats. He stares at the streets. The Uchiha streets always had people about, especially at noon.

Sasuke is alive.

The more he thinks about it, the less it seems likely. Genma said that some had survived. Some. He wonders if it’s all technicalities. Two could be some and the two could include him and Sasuke. He tries to shake the burning feeling in his chest. Genma wouldn’t lie about such things, he tells himself.

The window of the bakery is shattered, large shards hang perilously from a swinging tip. Uchiha Ikasaki used to bake the best buns in the compound. The door to the smithery had been burnt to ashes, along with the store opposite it. Uchiha Takara had retired after the third war and went into making flying weapons, they were very good so he had bought Genma several sets from that shop.

His footsteps echoed loudly in the quiet, desolate streets. Just yesterday, he was running on the rooftops to avoid the traffic. Just yesterday, or so it to him in spite of Genma telling him that it had been one month. He averts his gaze from the blood stains that still paint the walls. Blood and gore are big parts of his life, just not blood and gore from the people he knew from childhood.

“Shisui-kun! Here, bring some dango for Itachi-kun! Koichi-chan made a new flavour, I think Itachi-kun will love it.”

He tells himself that his legs are trembling from the exertion and not the grief in his heart even though he knows that it’s not true. There are potholes on the once-carefully paved street, holes that Shisui can identify at a glance, holes that rimmed with a colour are darker than the sandy earth it is paved with. He closes his one remaining eye, his fists clenching so tightly that he can feel the sticky blood between his nails.

“Have you eaten, Shisui-san? Here, oyakodon on the house!”

Genma’s hand clenches his shoulder, the grip reminding Shisui that he isn’t alone in this. “Genma?” his voice rasps in the heavy silence. He turns to catch Genma’s steady gaze. “Where is Fuuko?”

“Ah…” Genma’s voice sounded uncharacteristically tight. Like he had to strain to answer him, as though Shisui had struck a raw nerve.

Shisui stops in mid-step, standing completely still. The colour on his face bleeding out as he takes in Genma’s reaction. “Is she… dead?” Kage, please let her not be dead.

“What? No!”

“But you haven’t mentioned her at all… and she hasn’t come around either.” He knows that Fuuko would stop by at least once, no matter how busy she is.

“She’s not dead,” Genma insists.

“You haven’t answered the question. Where is Fuuko?”

“I am answering the question, Fuuko is not dead.”

“Yet,” Shisui tacks on flatly.

“...Yet,” Genma agrees with a sigh.

-/-/-/-

Kakashi stares at the door, wondering if he should knock. Could he trust Shikaku? He had to, there is no one else, he reasons with himself, raising his gloved hand.

“Kakashi?” Shikaku quirks an eyebrow and yawns. “What are you doing here at five in the morning?”

The scroll feels like it’s burning a hole in his pocket. He is not wrong, there is something going in the academy, Kakashi tells himself. “Nara-san, I think you might want to see this.” He holds up the scroll and allows Shikaku to usher him to his home office.

Shikaku doesn’t say anything as he peruses through the books and Kakashi doesn’t offer anything. Outside, across the Nara forest, Kakashi could see the twilight breaking. He had experienced far longer nights but the weight of the missing children pressed down heavily on his shoulders.

“These scrolls…” Shikaku presses his nose tiredly, his hand clasped together as he searches for the words that even Kakashi has difficulty thinking. Kakashi wants to rage, wants to deny the possibility of the scrolls being falsified.

“I took them from the level ten archives,” Kakashi says simply. His eye still watching the streaks of orange cut across the dark blue sky. Under normal circumstances, Kakashi might have tried to hide the fact that he had broken one of the highest level rules and if Shikaku wanted, Kakashi could have been executed as a traitor without any trial.

The Hatakes don’t mean anything to Konoha anyway, he finds himself thinking that.

Shikaku heaves a sigh. “Here I was, mildly hoping that you were here to see Naruto.”

His head whips around to take in Shikaku’s words. “Naruto? What is he doing here?”

“Akito- Kusari Akito attempted to kidnap Naruto and came really close to it, had Naruto bumped into Shikamaru and me.”

“Kusari Akito?” That sounded familiar. Though Kakashi isn’t certain that he has heard that name before. How had this Akito come close to get away with kidnapping Naruto? Tenzo had promised to watch over Naruto, unless Tenzo-

“You’d know him better as Badger, Anbu captain of your sister’s squad.”

“What about traitors in your team?”

Her shoulders hunched, her words prodding deeper into the clusterfuck that Kakashi refused to let his sister in, “do we even have a clan called Kusari?”

Fuuko knew. She had guessed it right there and then and had been right. Kusari Akito was… “...Root.” Had she known he was Root before the base? Part of him rejected the idea, part of him reasoned that it might have been the cause for Fuuko avoiding him after that.

Shikaku nods. “Peculiarly, he had all marks of a main branch Nara. Which would imply that either my sister had a child outside her marriage or that my younger brother had an affair and a child conceived from it. Except to make the timeline even plausible would imply that either of my siblings would have had Akito when they were six or nine, or my mother had a son that she didn’t know about.”

He taps the scrolls. “But if there are children going missing and with a reasonable stretch of the mind, it’s possible that a main branch Nara might have been… procured at an earlier time. Which begs the question as to why all Root found were non-bloodline. That said. I did some… rooting about.” Shikaku pulls open a drawer and unseals a seal hidden on the side of the drawer. The papers sprawl out of the folder as Shikaku throws it across the desk. The numbers don’t really make sense to Kakashi until he sees the conclusion neatly written in at the bottom.

% Probability: 62.9382001

“Apparently, my mother had a stillborn during the war and the genetic tests have proven that Akito is my younger brother, Nara Shikato.”

“Maybe, perhaps. He calls himself Kusari Akito but he looks like a Nara.”

“But if he’s Root...” Kakashi trails off, suddenly remembering of the question he had asked Tenzo a night ago. “What do you think Root’s reaction would have been in this scenario?” He looks up from the papers, the words are sharp and acrid in his mouth. “They would go to the next in command.”

“If losing over ten thousand of their force is an acceptable loss, I’d hate to see what isn’t.”

The idea of another in command threw Kakashi for a loop. He was forced into Root and while he hadn’t been willing, the seal did not allow for opinions or deviances. If there was a second-in-command, should he not have seen it? Should he not have at least interacted with the second-in-command at least a few times?

Shikaku continues, not noticing the turmoil churning in Kakashi. “However this discrepancy of missing children does explain why they were willing to lose over ten thousand soldiers.”

The cold closes on Kakashi like a vice. The realisation of the most probable explanation slamming through him. “Nara-san… what if Danzo was a puppet too?”

Notes:

I’m world building here. I have the idea that the group we saw in Narutoverse was actually a very small glimpse of it. My headcanon goes that Konoha has a population of roughly 300k because has anyone properly looked at the city shots of Konoha? That’s a lot of buildings. And frankly, the economy wouldn’t work. I like writing (relatively) realistic worlds, so hey.. we’re gonna do some dumping.