#and she needs to make the a concentration check of a lifetime just so her face won't also melt off as she chokes to get her breath back

[invinciblerodent]

anyone want to see something vaguely cursed

it's Ion(a)

(don't mind me; i was toying with the CC because I was thinking about disguise self/illusion spells, and though this would be a very counterintuitive as a disguise, it might be something she'd attempt to practice the finer aspects of a new spell, just to get the hang of it)

(pretty sure i landed on one of the half-elf faces because the elf ones didn't look right, they didn't have that sort of foxlike/feline feel to them)

[hopelesslys-world]

50 SHADES OF FUCKED UP | CH.4

TRIGGER WARNINGS!: TOXIC RELATIONSHIP, reader is kind of a bimbo, heavily detailed smut, basically porn, loss of virginity, harsh language, anger issues, stalking, obsession, jealousy, controlling behaviour, DOM-SUB themes, BDSM Expand considered to be portrayed with incorrect/poor etiquette, emotional abuse, physical abuse, sexual abuse/assault, statutory rape.

EXTRAS: Vomiting, alcohol !

Tell me if I missed anything...( As you can see most of the warnings will appear in future chapters. )

I apologize for any grammar mistakes...

Y/L/N: Your Last Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

Y/M/N: Your Middle Name

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

*𝙔𝙊𝙐𝙍 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄��𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊, 𝐂𝐎��𝐃 concrete of the garage with its bleak fluorescent light, I speed towards Bella's car getting inside as if someone was chasing me.

What was I thinking? Unbidden and unwelcome incoming tears make my eyes water.

Why am I crying? I sink to the ground, angry at myself for this senseless reaction. I hide my face in my hands and wipe a stray tear off my cheek.

That is so embarrassing. I embarrassed myself out there thinking that we were going to kiss. I'm so stupid, being sad of something I never had. How ridiculous. Something that never was – my dashed hopes, dashed dreams, and my soured expectations.

I have never been on the receiving end of rejection. Okay… so I was always one of the last to be picked for basketball or volleyball – but I understood that – running and doing something else at the same time like bouncing or throwing a ball is not my thing. I am a serious liability in any sporting field.

Romantically, though, I’ve never put myself out there, ever. A lifetime of insecurity – I’m too pale, too skinny, too scruffy, uncoordinated, my long list of faults goes on. So I have always been the one to rebuff any would be admirers. There was that guy in my chemistry class who liked me, but no one has ever sparked my interest – no one except Christian damn Grey.

Maybe I should be kinder to the likes of Paul Clayton and José Rodriguez, though I’m sure neither of them have been found like me inside their car in a dark parking lot.

I should go home, do my studying. Forget about him and stop all this self-pitying, crap!!!

I take a deep, steadying breath and start the engine. I will not think of him again. I can just chalk this incident up to experience and concentrate on my exams.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Bella is sitting at the dining table at her laptop when I arrive. Her welcoming smile fades when she sees me.

“Y/N/N what’s wrong?”

Oh no… not the Isabella Clark Inquisition. I shake my head at her in a back-off now Bella way – but I might as well be dealing with a blind, deaf mute.

“You’ve been crying,” she has an exceptional gift for stating the damned obvious sometimes. “What did that bastard do to you?” she growls, and her face – jeez, she’s scary.

“Nothing Bella.” That’s actually the problem. The thought brings a wry smile to my face.

“Then why have you been crying? You never cry,” she says, her voice softening. She stands, her green eyes brimming with concern. She puts her arms around me and hugs me.

I need to say something just to get her to back off. “I was nearly knocked over by a cyclist.” It’s the best that I can do, but it distracts her momentarily from… him.

“Jeez Y/N/N – are you okay? Were you hurt?” She holds me at arm’s length and does a quick visual check-up on me.

“No. Christian saved me,” I whisper. “But I was quite shaken.”

“I’m not surprised. How was coffee? I know you hate coffee.”

“I had tea. It was fine, nothing to report really. I don’t know why he asked me.”

“He likes you Y/N/N.” She drops her arms.

“Not anymore. I won’t be seeing him again.” Yes, I manage to sound matter of fact.

“Oh?”

Shit. She’s intrigued. I head into the kitchen so that she can’t see my face.

“Yeah… he’s a little out of my league Bella,” I say as dryly as I can manage.

“What do you mean?”

“Oh Bella, it’s obvious.” I whirl round and face her as she stands in the kitchen doorway.

“Not to me,” she says. “Okay, he’s got more money than you, but then he has more money than most people in America!”

“Bella he’s– ” I shrug.

“Y/N! For heaven’s sake – how many times must I tell you? You’re a total babe,” she interrupts me. She’s off on this tirade again.

“Bella, please. I need to study.” I cut her short. She frowns.

“Do you want to see the article? It’s finished. José took some great pictures.”

Do I need a visual reminder of the beautiful Christian I-don’t-want-you Grey?

“Sure,” I magic a smile on to my face and stroll over to the laptop. And there he is, staring at me in black and white, staring at me and finding me lacking.

I pretend to read the article, all the time meeting his steady gray gaze, searching the photo for some clue as to why he’s not the man for me – his own words to me. And it’s suddenly, blindingly obvious. He’s too gloriously good-looking. We are poles apart and from two very different worlds. His words make sense. He’s not the man for me.

This is what he meant, and it makes his rejection easier to accept… almost. I can live with this. I understand.

“Very good Bella,” I manage. “I’m going to study.” I am not going to think about him again for now, I vow to myself, and opening my revision notes, I start to read.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It’s only when I’m in bed, trying to sleep, that I allow my thoughts to drift through my strange morning. I keep coming back to the ‘I don’t do the girlfriend thing’ quote, and I’m angry that I didn’t pounce on this information sooner, when I was in his arms mentally begging him with every fiber of my being to kiss me. He’d said it there and then. He didn’t want me as a girlfriend. I turn on to my side.

Idly, I wonder if perhaps he’s celibate? I close my eyes and begin to drift. Maybe he’s saving himself.

Well not for you, my sleepy subconscious has a final swipe at me before unleashing itself on my dreams.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

I put my pen down. Finished. My final exam is over. I feel the Cheshire cat grin spread over my face.

It’s Friday, and we'll be celebrating tonight, really celebrating. I might even get drunk! I’ve never been drunk before. I glance across the sports hall at Bella, and she’s still scribbling furiously, five minutes to the end. This is it, the end of my academic career.

I shall never have to sit in rows of anxious, isolated students again. Inside I’m doing graceful cartwheels around my head, knowing full well that’s the only place I can do graceful cartwheels.

Bella stops writing and puts her pen down. She glances across at me, and I catch her sly smile too.

We head back to our apartment together in her Mercedes, refusing to discuss our final paper. Bella is more concerned about what she’s going to wear to the bar this evening. I am busily fishing around in my purse for my keys.

“Y/N/N, there’s a package for you.” Bella is standing on the steps up to the front door holding a brown paper parcel. Odd. I haven’t ordered anything from Amazon recently. Bella gives me the parcel and takes my keys to open the front door.

It’s addressed to Miss Y/N Y/L/N. There’s no sender’s address or name. Perhaps it’s from my mom or Ray.

“It’s probably from my mom or dad.”

“Open it!” Bella is excited as she heads into the kitchen for our ‘Exams are finished celebration Champagne’.

I open the parcel, and inside I find a half leather box containing three seemingly identical old cloth-covered books in mint condition and a plain white card. Written on one side, in black ink in neat cursive handwriting, is:

Why didn't you tell me there was danger? Why didn't you warn me?

Ladies know what to guard against, because they read novels that tell them of these trisks...

I recognize the quote from Tess. I am stunned by the irony as I’ve just spent three hours writing about the novels of Thomas Hardy in my final examination. Perhaps there is no irony… perhaps it’s deliberate.

I inspect the books closely, three volumes of Tess of the D’Urbervilles. I open the front cover. Written in an old typeface on the front plate is:

‘London: Jack R. Osgood, McIlvaine and Co., 1891.’

Holy fuck - they are first editions. They must be worth a fortune, and I know immediately who’s sent them. Bella is at my shoulder gazing at the books. She picks up the card.

“First Editions,” I whisper.

“No way...” Bella’s eyes are wide with disbelief. “Grey?”

I nod. “Can’t think of anyone else.”

“What does this card mean?”

“I have no idea. I think it’s a warning – honestly he keeps warning me off. I have no idea why. It’s not like I’m beating his door down.” I frown.

“I know you don’t want to talk about him, Y/N/N, but he’s seriously into you. Warnings or no.”

I have not let myself dwell on Christian Grey for the past week. Okay…I know it will take an eternity to expunge the feel of his arms around me and his wonderful fragrance from my brain. Why has he sent me this?

He told me that I wasn’t for him.

“I’ve found one Tess first edition for sale in New York at $14,000. But yours looks in much better condition. They must have cost more.” Bella is consulting her good friend Google.

“This quote – Tess says it to her mother after Alec D’Urberville has had his wicked way with her.”

“I know,” muses Bella. “What is he trying to say?”

“I don’t know, and I don’t care. I can’t accept these from him. I’ll send them back with an equally baffling quote from some obscure part of the book.”

“The bit where Angel Clare says fuck off?” Bella asks with a completely straight face.

“Yes, that bit.” I giggle. I love Bella, she’s so loyal and supportive. I repack the books and leave them on the dining table. She hands me a glass of champagne.

“To the end of exams and our new life in Seattle,” she grins.

“To the end of exams, our new life in Seattle, and excellent results.” We clink glasses and drink.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

The bar is loud and hectic, full of soon to be graduates out to get trashed. José joins us. He won’t graduate for another year, but he’s in the mood to party and gets us into the spirit of our newfound freedom by buying a pitcher of margaritas for us all.

As I down my fifth, I know this is not a good idea on top of the champagne.

“So what now Y/N/N?” José shouts at me over the noise.

“Bella and I are moving to Seattle. Her parents have bought a condo there for her.”

“But you’ll be back for my show, right?”

“Of course, José, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” I smile, and he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me close.

“It means a lot to me that you’ll be there Y/N/N,” he whispers in my ear. “Another margarita?”

“José Luis Rodriguez – are you trying to get me drunk? Because I think it’s working.” I giggle. “I think I’d better have a beer. I’ll go get us a pitcher.”

“More drinks, Y/N/N!” Bella bellows.

Bella has the constitution of an ox. She’s got her arm draped over Levi, one of our fellow English students and her usual photographer on her student newspaper. He’s given up taking photos of the drunkenness that surrounds him. He only has eyes for her. She’s in a stunning red dress that hugs her curves perfectly with black high heels and curls that reach her back elegantly.

Me, I’m in my usual skirt outfit but Bella made it more 'club like' and I love it, I feel very comfortable.

I move out of José’s hold and get up from our table. Whoa. Head spin. I have to grab the back of the chair. Tequila based cocktails are not a good idea.

I make my way to the bar and decide that I should visit the restroom while I am on my feet.

Good thinking, Y/N. I stagger off through the crowd. Of course, there’s a line, but at least it’s quiet and cool in the corridor. I reach for my cell phone to relieve the boredom of waiting in line.

Hmm… Who did I last call? Was it José? Before that a number I don’t recognize. Oh yes. Grey, I think this is his number. I giggle. I have no idea what the time is, maybe I’ll wake him. Perhaps he can tell me why he sent me those books and the crypticmessage.

If he wants me to stay away, he should leave me alone. I suppress a drunken grin and hit the automatic re-dial. He answers on the second ring. “Y/N?” He’s surprised to hear from me. Well, frankly, I’m surprised to ring him.

Then my befuddled brain registers… how does he know it’s me? “Why did you send me the books?” I slur at him.

“Y/N, are you okay? You sound strange.” His voice is filled with concern.

“I’m not the strange one, you are,” I accuse. My courage fuelled by alcohol.

“Y/N, have you been drinking?”

“What’s it to you?”

“I’m...curious. Where are you?”

“In a bar.”

“Which bar?” He sounds exasperated.

“A bar in Portland.”

“How are you getting home?”

“I’ll find a way.” This conversation is not going how I expected.

“Which bar are you in?”

“Why did you send me the books, Christian?”

“Y/N, where are you, tell me now.” His tone is so, so dictatorial, his usual control freak.

He's a freak. The thought makes me laugh.“You’re so… domineering,” I giggle.

“Where the fuck are you?” He asked angrily.

Christian Grey is swearing at me. I giggle again. “I’m in Portland… s’a long way from Seattle s'a long way from your bizarre ass.”

“Where in Portland?”

“Goodnight, Christian.”

“Y/N!”

I hang up. Ha! Though he didn’t tell me about the books. I frown. Mission not accomplished. I am really quite drunk - my head swims uncomfortably as I shuffle with the line. Well, the object of the exercise was to get drunk. I have succeeded. This is what it’s like – probably not an experience to be repeated.

The line has moved, and it’s now my turn. I stare blankly at the poster on the back of the toilet door that extols the virtues of safe sex.

Fuck, did I just call Christian Grey? Shit. My phone rings and it makes me jump. I yelp in surprise. “Hi,” I bleat timidly in to the phone. I hadn’t reckoned on this.

“I’m coming to get you,” he says and hangs up. Only Christian Grey could sound so calm and so threatening at the same time.

What the hell. I pull my skirt up. My heart is thumping. Coming to get me?

Oh no. I’m going to be sick… no… I’m fine. Hang on. He’s just messing with my head. I didn’t tell him where I was. He can’t find me here. Besides, it will take him hours to get here from Seattle, and we’ll be long gone by then. I wash my hands and check my face in the mirror.

I look flushed and slightly unfocused. Hmm… tequila.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

*𝘾𝙃𝙍𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘼𝙉'𝙎 𝙋𝙊𝙑*

┅┅

The bar is crowded, full of students determined to have a good time. There’s some indie crap thumping over the sound system and the dance floor is crowded with heaving bodies.

It makes me feel old.

She’s here somewhere.

Elliot has followed me in through the front door. “Do you see her?” he shouts over the noise.

Scanning the room, I spot Isabella Clark. She’s with a group of friends, all of them men, sitting in a booth. There’s no sign of Y/N, but the table is littered with shot glasses and tumblers of beer.

Well, let’s see if Miss Clark is as loyal to her friend as Y/N is to her. She looks at me in surprise when we arrive at her table.

“Isabella,” I say by way of greeting, and she interrupts me before I can ask her Y/N’s whereabouts.

“Christian, what a surprise to see you here,” she shouts above the noise. The three guys at the table regard Elliot and me with hostile wariness.

“I was in the neighborhood.”

“And who’s this?” She smiles rather too brightly at Elliot, interrupting me again. What an exasperating woman.

“This is my brother Elliot. Elliot, Isabella Clark. Where’s Y/N?”

Her smile broadens at Elliot, and I’m surprised by his answering grin.

“I think she went outside for some fresh air, she responds, but she doesn’t look at me. She has eyes only for Mr. Love ’Em and Leave ’Em. Well, it’s her funeral.

“Outside? Where?” I shout.

“Oh. That way.” She points to double doors at the far end of the bar.

Pushing through the throng, I make my way to the door, leaving the three disgruntled men and Clark and Elliot engaged in a grin-off.

Through the double doors there is a line for the ladies’ washroom, and beyond that a door that’s open to the outside. It’s at the back of the bar. Ironically, it leads to the parking lot where Elliot and I have just been.

Walking outside, I find myself in a gathering space adjacent to the parking lot—a hangout flanked by raised flowerbeds, where a few people are smoking, drinking, chatting. Making out. I spot her.

Fucking hell. She’s with the photographer, I think, though it’s difficult to tell in the dim light. She’s in his arms, but she seems to be twisting away from him. He mutters something to her, which I don’t hear, and kisses her, along her jaw.

“José, no,” she says, and then it’s clear. She’s trying to push him off. She doesn’t want this.

For a moment I want to rip his head off. With my hands fisted at my side I march up to them. “I think the lady said no.” My voice carries, cold and sinister, in the relative quiet, while I struggle to contain my anger.

He releases Y/N and she squints at me with a dazed, drunken expression.

“Grey,” he says, his voice terse, and it takes every ounce of my self-control not to smash the disappointment off his face.

Y/N heaves, then buckles over and vomits on the ground.

Oh, shit!

“Ugh—Dios mío, Y/N/N!” José leaps out of the way in disgust.

Fucking idiot.

Ignoring him, I grab her hair and hold it out of the way as she continues to throw up everything she’s had this evening. It’s with some annoyance that I note she doesn’t appear to have eaten. With my arm around her shoulders I lead her away from the curious onlookers toward one of the flowerbeds.

“If you’re going to throw up again, do it here. I’ll hold you.” It’s darker here. She can puke in peace. She vomits again and again, her hands on the brick. It’s pitiful. Once her stomach is empty, she continues to retch, long dry heaves.

Boy, she’s got it bad.

Finally her body relaxes and I think she’s finished. Releasing her, I give her my handkerchief, which by some miracle I have in the inside pocket of my jacket.

Thank you, Mrs. Jones.

Wiping her mouth, she turns and rests against the bricks, avoiding eye contact because she’s ashamed and embarrassed. And yet I’m so pleased to see her. Gone is my fury at the photographer. I’m delighted to be standing in the parking lot of a student bar in Portland with Miss Y/N Y/L/N.

She puts her head in her hands, cringes, then peeks up at me, still mortified. Turning to the door, she glares over my shoulder. I assume it’s at her “friend.”

“I’ll, um, see you inside,” José says, but I don’t turn to stare him down, and to my favour, she ignores him, too, returning her eyes to mine.

“I’m sorry,” she says finally, while her fingers twist the soft linen.

Okay, let’s have some fun.

“What are you sorry for, Y/N?”

“The phone call, mainly. Being sick. The list goes on,” she mumbles.

“We’ve all been here, perhaps not quite as dramatically as you.” Why is it such fun to tease this young woman? “It’s about knowing your limits, Y/N. I mean, I’m all for pushing limits, but really this is beyond the pale. Do you make a habit of this kind of behavior?”

Perhaps she has a problem with alcohol. The thought is worrying, and I consider whether I should call my mother for a referral to a detox clinic.

Y/N frowns for a moment, as if angry, that little v forming between her brows, and I suppress the urge to kiss it. But when she speaks she sounds contrite.

“No,” she says. “I’ve never been drunk before and right now I have no desire to ever be again.” She looks up at me, her eyes unfocused, and she sways a little. She might pass out, so without giving it a thought I scoop her up into my arms.

She’s surprisingly light. Too light. The thought irks me. No wonder she’s drunk.

“Come on, I’ll take you home.”

“I need to tell Bella,” she says, as her head rests on my shoulder.

“My brother can tell her.”

“What?”

“My brother Elliot is talking to Miss Clark”

“Oh?”

“He was with me when you called.”

“In Seattle?”

“No, I’m staying at The Heathman.” And my wild-goose chase has paid off.

“How did you find me?”

“I tracked your cell phone, Y/N.” I head toward the car. I want to drive her home. “Do you have a jacket or a purse?”

“Er…yes, I came with both. Christian, please, I need to tell Bella. She’ll worry.”

I stop and bite my tongue. Clark wasn’t worried about her being out here with the overamorous photographer. Rodriguez. That’s his name. What kind of friend is she? The lights from the bar illuminate her anxious face.

As much as it pains me, I put her down and agree to take her inside. Holding hands, we walk back into the bar, stopping at Bella’s table. One of the young men is still sitting there, looking annoyed and abandoned.

“Where’s Bella?” Y/N shouts above the noise.

“Dancing,” the guy says, his dark eyes staring at the dance floor. She collects her leather black coat and purse and, reaching out, she unexpectedly clutches my arm.

I freeze.

Shit.

My heart rate catapults into overdrive as the darkness surfaces, stretching and tightening its claws around my throat.

“She’s on the dance floor,” she shouts, her words tickling my ear, distracting me from my fear. And suddenly the darkness disappears and the pounding in my heart ceases.

What?

I roll my eyes to hide my confusion and take her to the bar, order a large glass of water, and pass it to her.

“Drink.”

Eyeing me over the glass, she takes a tentative sip.

“All of it,” I command. I’m hoping this will be enough damage control to avoid one hell of a hangover tomorrow.

What might have happened to her if I hadn’t intervened? My mood sinks.

And I think of what just happened to me. Her touch. My reaction.

My mood plummets further.

Y/N sways a little as she’s drinking, so I steady her with a hand on her shoulder. I like the connection—me touching her.

She finishes her drink, and retrieving the glass, I place it on the bar. Okay. She wants to talk to her so-called friend. I survey the crowded dance floor, uneasy at the thought of all those bodies pressing in on me as we fight our way through.

Steeling myself, I grab her hand and lead her toward the dance floor. She hesitates, but if she wants to talk to her friend, there’s only one way; she’s going to have to dance with me. Once Elliot gets his groove on, there’s no stopping him; so much for his quiet night in.

With a tug, she’s in my arms.

This I can handle. When I know she’s going to touch me, it’s okay. I can deal, especially since I’m wearing my jacket. I weave us through the crowd to where Elliot and Bella are making a spectacle of themselves.

Still dancing, Elliot leans toward me in mid-strut when we’re beside him and sizes us up with a look of incredulity.

“I’m taking Y/N home. Tell Bella,” I shout in his ear.

He nods and pulls Clark into his arms.

Right. Let me take Miss Drunk Bookworm home, but for some reason she seems reluctant to go. She’s watching Clark with concern. When we’re off the dance floor she looks back at Bella, then at me, swaying and a little dazed.

“Fuck—” By some miracle I catch her as she passes out in the middle of the bar. I’m tempted to haul her over my shoulder, but we’d be too conspicuous, so I pick her up once more, cradling her against my chest, and take her outside to the car.

“Christ,” I mutter as I fish the key out of my jeans and hold her at the same time. Amazingly, I manage to get her into the front seat and strap her in.

“Y/N.” I give her a little shake, because she’s worryingly quiet. “Y/N!”

She mumbles something incoherent and I know she’s still conscious. I know I should take her home, but it’s a long drive to Vancouver, and I don’t know if she’ll be sick again. I don’t relish the idea of my Audi reeking of vomit. The smell emanating from her clothes is already noticeable.

I head to The Heathman, telling myself that I’m doing this for her sake.

Yeah, tell yourself that, Grey.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

She sleeps in my arms as we travel up in the elevator from the garage. I need to get her out of her skirt and her shoes. The stale stench of vomit pervades the space. I’d really like to give her a bath, but that would be stepping beyond the bounds of propriety.

And this isn’t?

In my suite, I drop her purse on the sofa, then carry her into the bedroom and lay her down on the bed. She mumbles once more but doesn’t wake. Briskly I remove her shoes and put them in the plastic laundry bag provided by the hotel. Then I unzip her skirt and pull it off stuffing the piece of clothing in the laundry bag.

She falls back on the bed, splayed out like a starfish, all pale arms and legs, and for a moment I picture those legs wrapped around my waist as her wrists are bound to my Saint Andrew’s cross.

I sit her up and she opens her eyes. “Hello, Y/N,” I whisper, as I remove her jacket slowly and without her cooperation.

“Grey. Kiss,” she mutters.

“Yes, sweetheart.” I ease her down onto the bed. She closes her eyes again and rolls onto her side, but this time huddles into a ball, looking small and vulnerable. I pull the covers over her and plant a kiss in her hair.

Now that her filthy clothes have gone, a trace of her scent has reappeared. Apples, fall, fresh, delicious…Y/N. Her lips are parted, eyelashes fanning out over pale cheeks, and her skin looks flawless. One more touch is all I allow myself as I stroke her cheek with the back of my index finger.

“Sleep well,” I murmur, and then head into the living room to complete the laundry list. When it’s done, I place the offending bag outside my suite so the contents will be collected and laundered.

Before I check my e-mails I text Welch, asking him to see if José Rodriguez has any police records. I’m curious. I want to know if he preys on drunk young women. Then I address the issue of clothes for Miss Y/L/N: I send a quick e-mail to Taylor.

•••

From: Christian Grey

RE: Miss Anastasia Steele

Date: May 20, 2023 23:46

To: J B Taylor.

——

Can you please find the following items for Miss Steele and have them delivered to my usual room before 10:00.

Skirt: Black Size 4

Shirt: White. Pretty. Size 4

Boots: Black Size 7

Socks: Size 7

Lingerie: Underwear—Size Small. Bra—Estimate 36C

Thank you.

Christian Grey

CEO, Grey Enterprises Holdings, Inc.

•••

Once it’s disappeared from my outbox, I text Elliot.

Y/N is with me. If you’re still with Bella, tell her.

He texts by return.

Will do. Hope you get laid. You soooo need it. ;)

His response makes me snort.

I so do, Elliot. I so do.

I open my work e-mail and begin to read.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Nearly two hours later, I come to bed. It’s just after 1:45. She’s fast asleep and hasn’t moved from where I left her. I strip, pull on my pajama pants and a T-shirt, and climb in beside her. She’s comatose; it’s unlikely she’s going to thrash around and touch me.

I hesitate for a moment as the darkness swells within me, but it doesn’t surface and I know it’s because I’m watching the hypnotic rise and fall of her chest and I’m breathing in sync with her.

In. Out. In. Out. In. Out. For seconds, minutes, hours, I don’t know, I watch her. And while she sleeps I survey every beautiful inch of her lovely face. Her dark lashes fluttering while she sleeps, her lips slightly parted so I glimpse her even white teeth.

She mutters something unintelligible and her tongue darts out and licks her lips. It’s arousing, very arousing. Finally I fall into a deep and dreamless slumber.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

[ series masterlist ]

DON'T BE AFRAID TO SPAM WITH LIKES AND COMMENTS. I WOULD ALSO APPRECIATE IT IF YOU COULD REBLOG THIS POST <3

[nozomijoestar]

AFTER 8 MONTHS OF WRITING AND NONSENSE AND WRITING- I PRESENT 'LA VIE EN ROSE' PART 1

ASULILI NATION MAKE SOME NOISEEEE | thanks to @scalproie , @headlessstar , @pettyeti for your encouragement and feedback

Summary:

'The Seventh Iron Fist Tournament has ended. In its aftermath under the Mishima-G Corp conflicts, the world lays fractured into ravaged wastelands and pockets of civilization under a facade of normalcy. Asuka Kazama returns home, reminded there is no ground she can stand on untouched. And with persistent Lili sticking like a bad itch, their entwined fates form her a lone island.'

-

20k words per part from here on. Three parts total. I will be building the events between Tekken 7's ending for Asuka and Lili into just before Tekken 8 would start. I will be using canon, Harada's statements, and my two essays I recommend reading as guides.

Asuka Essay | Lili Essay

PLAYLIST GO BRRRRRRR

EDIT: I decided to also just dump the entire part 1 on tumblr then decide how I wanna share the rest moving forward

NEW: PART 2 POST | Ao3 Ver.

---

1 SE BATTRE C'EST TOUS

She held her breath and the numbers came. One, two, three, four, five…she could still smell the roses piled in the training hall. Sighing she opened her eyes and paced, arms crossed, around and around the doorway until she tripped over a shoe. Asuka threw out her hands, let herself collapse then slide down the wall into a slump. Tightness gripped her chest as she chewed her bottom lip. First had been the roses, roses of every color, size, and shape she’d never attempt counting. Everything was polished blinding like the sun and all things broken were now shiny replacements; Asuka still had no idea which button on the new microwave simply heated her leftovers.

Next had been coming home, standing in their kitchen, to watch Dad’s face worn and lined face split with a grin. The pile of bills that used to sit on the table had vanished, becoming a single check he’d waved like it’d disappear. Then of course Lili didn’t even bother showing up with her for any of it; creating yet another mess before pulling out of reach. The confused silences punctuating arguments between them over the flight home were broken when they’d landed at the airport. ‘Return ahead of me Asuka Kazama. I need a day to arrange my things.’ Lili had said, wearing a smirk before flipping her hair and strutting away. The once in a lifetime thrill at hot meals and extending seats aboard first class had evaporated. How the hell did you respond to that? So she’d braced herself and crossed the threshold of her house, alone.

Now she was crouched here, her mind in knots. Dad would probably be halfway done shopping for the huge welcome party dinner he’d bragged about. They needed to thank Lili properly, of course, his eyes seeming to go right through Asuka when he said so. To the end no matter how she protested or hovered over his limping strolls from point A to point B, he gave her a glare. Said that he’d taken her coddling for too long; the doctors had discharged him for a reason. Her hand curled a fist but stopped short of hitting the wall. No point in ruining what was indeed fixed, even if it could be fixed again. No way would she create another reason for Lili to call her a brute. Then the rumble and crunch of a car tire beyond the door perked up her ears; snapping her from her stillness.

Asuka looked through the peephole.

The white off Lili’s limo flashed orange into her eyes under the setting sun. The thing blocked off their courtyard as the driver’s side opened; out came a wrinkled old man hustling in his tailed suit for the passenger’s side door. She turned away. She’d hold out on looking at her until that final, final second it became unavoidable. Instead she could imagine Lili’s self-satisfied smirk, the confident strut as she dragged her suitcase worth a hundred little hole in the wall houses, the haughty air in her laugh that’d come whenever Asuka so much as stared. She hummed in concentration imagining her perfect hair, perfect poise, flawless as she claimed her prize. No! The brave thing would be looking that dumbass right in her stupid eyes. ‘You don’t get control of everythin’ you want!’

Suddenly the doorbell rang making her jolt and yelp.  She opened the door and there stood Queen Dumbass, lifting pink tinted aviator shades that covered her face. A silver rope necklace glinted around the collar of an outfit Asuka didn’t attempt guessing the price for. The limo was gone. Lili clicked her tongue; somehow her long blonde hair remained flawless. But there was, if only for an instant, tiredness beneath her stare. She leaned over her tall and wiry enough to block the door. Like so many times before Asuka’s words died on her tongue.

“Good day Asuka Kazama. Have you recovered from our flight? We have much to do if I’m going to train, and I can’t have you slacking.”

Stand tall, now.

“I’m fine. Don’t go expecting a summer camp here you ass. Might be your name on the deed these days but I was born here, right in the living room.”

Her thick Osakan drawl dragged and cut the words of her temper by their syllables. Lili stood unfazed, cocking her head in that blurred line between annoyance and amusement Asuka never understood.

“Well then you’ll know which room I’ll be staying in, how many meals I’ll eat, and exactly what our regimen will be already. I am the only student after all. Or are my expectations too high for one as knowledgeable as you? Perhaps you will find some other way to meddle and fuss during my stay. Father’s wealth is why we can stand where we are.”

Lili flicked Asuka’s forehead, swaggering inside and rolling her luggage behind her. A duffle hung from her shoulders, jostling Asuka as she passed. She scowled jostling her right back.

“Wha’ was that for?!”

“For being so very you. Now, my room if you’d please?”

“Yeah, yeah upstairs follow me.”

Upstairs meant passing several floorboards whose every creak made her heart lighter. Some things stayed the same. Asuka carried the suitcase as they climbed, and after a pause realized another floral scent was flooding her senses. It grew stronger each step she watched Lili climb forward.

‘Perfume? Damn it smells good.’

She bit her lip. Give them a week and she doubted this girl would keep primping herself up like a show dog. The gears in her mind whirled rearranging tomorrow’s plan as they reached the top.

“It’s on the left, close to the stairs for any going back an’ forth. I’ll put your things down so you don’t knock nothin’ over.”

“How rude! Don’t treat me like some monkey; I’m capable of minding my surroundings!”

“As capable as those fancy kicks of yours leave you wide open in a fight, sure.”

“Asuka Kazama you insufferable little…”

Growling Lili spun around setting upon her, pride wounded. She spotted the way her body drew back a second too long and rushed forward. ‘You still have that habit?’ One step sideways slid her out the way letting Lili pitch into air. Asuka lunged. It came an instant too late. Grappling and tussling each other had them tripping through the doorway, until forgetting the weight of her duffle saw Lili topple to the floor. Asuka planted her feet on instinct and pulled Queen Dumbass up as if it were reflex. The force thrust Lili clinging against her chest; for an instant she stood close enough to feel her gasp.

Asuka felt her body freeze, her face fixed in confusion finding Lili’s doe eyed expression. Then it was gone when she watched her glance around. Shelves covered in books, photos, and trophies lined the north most wall above a computer desk. The curtains were white around an opened window above a single bed. A dresser with a mirror and CD player hugged the western wall. Several spare bicycle parts were piled in a corner peeking out of a full trunk. At their feet a futon sat atop a plush rug.

“Are we…in your room?”

Asuka let go of her and stacked the luggage aside, crossing her arms.

“This ain’t a five star hotel; there wasn’t no other place to put you. It’s my room, my rules. Don’t go gettin’ ideas. You’re sleeping on the floor.”

She expected protest, an insult, any kind of resistance. Instead Lili nodded and gave the futon a once over. She spent greater time standing in awe like this were a museum exhibit she’d paid a personal tour for. Asuka’s skin flushed, but before her temper spilled Dad’s voice called from downstairs.

“Girls? Asuka? Is our guest home yet or can you help me with the cooking?”

“Cooking? Did he say cooking?”

“Yeah it’s for your moving in an’ all. Just stay here and look pretty. I doubt you’ve ever cooked in your life.”

She stuck her head out and yelled back.

“I’m comin’ Dad! She’s here in my room don’t worry.”

From behind her came the sounds of bags being unzipped. When she turned around Lili knelt knee deep in stacks of clothes for every occasion, dresses included. There were several tailored bags some of them spilling makeup tools next to bottles she couldn’t see the labels of. She watched her lean back and forth from bag to bag; it was like a cat pawing at yarn. Asuka swallowed a laugh. Lili didn’t notice. Instead she shooed her with a wave of the hand.

“Go on then. I need to make myself presentable. Where is your bathroom?”

“Last door on the right down the hall.”

“Don’t sound so dejected. You are killing the mood.”

She didn’t look at her as she spoke. A suck of her teeth felt reply enough. When she walked away she heard a confident ‘Thank you as always.’ Her chest tightened. A breeze followed her wake down the stairs.

Dad limped around the kitchen pulling out pots and setting oil to heat on their best skillets. Meat, vegetables, seasonings, a fruit platter, tiny cakes, even the takoyaki fryer- her mind grew fuzzy just counting everything. For a pause her eyes followed him, the tightness lingered.

“Oh there you are girl. Come and cut the lettuce for me.”

She gave him a once over from his strong and sweaty lined brow down to his quietly bent leg. He must be straining just standing there. Without thinking she set about washing her hands, placing things within his reach before he knew he needed them; then came prepping. Her face felt stiffer than her chopping once they settled into a rhythm. From the corner of her eye she watched him drag his steps a breath too long; at times when she passed on one prepped ingredient, he stood slumped over the counter. Asuka set down her knife.

“Dad. Why?”

Takoyaki sizzled.

“Why what?”

“Selling the house…not chasing after that bastard who crushed the dojo an’ gave you your wounds. Your coma. We could’ve figured it out ourselves.”

“…We talked about this.”

“And it makes no sense to me!” She shouted, slamming her palms and rattling the cutting board with a thud.

He glared dead at her straight backed, cold eyed, impassable. His lips were pursed with the unsaid that no longer bore repeating. Immediately she recoiled and the fire that twisted her face in anger began wavering. Goosebumps shot across her skin. When he spoke it was deep, rough as gravel; resigned but not bitter.

“Asuka, Asuka I won’t say this again. We’ve gotta survive. That’s all there is to it. They can bust me up, they can drive our students away, but there’s always a way out if you’re alive. You don’t spit on a helping hand.”

“I’m your daughter; it’s my job to be the helping hand. I just need to double my training and some time. There’s no point begging from anyone, much less the asshole that keeps picking fights with me! This is another one of her shams Dad; you should kick her to the curb and let me protect us!”

“Keeping my family does not mean I’ve lost!”

His nose flared and eyes shot wide with ferocity, with pain, as if she’d pressed fingers into an open gash. She recoiled, shuddering in silence. There remained nothing left to say. Slowly, slowly her breath returned; her blood warmed again. Then someone cleared their throat behind her. Asuka turned, rushing the break of the spell hanging over the air, to find Lili stood like a deer in headlights. Thinly applied blush and the sheen of lip gloss colored her face. Dad’s stare felt as if it kept burning holes through the back of her head. Whatever kept Lili stunned broke when she gave them a graceful bow. ‘You’re lovin’ this aren’t you.’

Yet the look Lili wore made her chest ache.

“Good Evening Mr. Kazama, sir. I apologize for any disturbances my presence has caused; a pleasure to meet you face to face.”

“Yes, please come in make yourself at home. Help yourself to as much as you’d like.” Dad said softly, ignoring Asuka’s bent, pleading expression as he wiped his hands on his apron.

Only a few finishing touches remained for the dishes. As she worked Lili sat waiting lost in thought each time she glanced a different spot. Sometimes, for the barest instant, she felt her stare linger a second too long. But whenever she glanced back Lili had moved on. When they plated the okonomiyaki, takoyaki, udon, oshizushi, and more around the hot pot center piece- that made her balk. 

It’d been Dad’s idea to offer her everything Osakan and the kitchen sink if need be; Lili accepted bite after bite with firm grace. With turns of phrase she joked, listened, chatted as if Dad were an old friend. Asuka sat mute unless asking for seconds or giving a clipped word or two, or three. Her glares seemed to deter nothing. She watched one of Lili’s smiles, oshizushi stuffed in her mouth. For whatever reason Lili didn’t focus on her, didn’t pry the fresh cuts she’d overheard. ‘I think I used too much broth in the hot pot…’

Steeping in the bath after a wash, Asuka watched the moon hang obscured by clouds.  Heart pounding, she rolled back her head. The ceiling was blank.

Night was giving way to blue dawn when her alarm blared. Fumbling she flipped her phone open to shut it off, eyes squinting as half of her read the time- the other half still dreamed of darkness. The screen blasted full on her face. Five thirty in the morning; time to get up. Various bottles, makeup tools, and pouches littered the surface of her dresser. Hairclips, brushes, ties, and ribbons (one set for the hair another to pin at the chest) were scattered in the space between. A handful of mirrors in a ridiculous range of sizes threatened toppling when she rummaged for clothes; she sucked her teeth. Even her things were starting to smell expensive.  

Her closet had been overtaken until the hangars were bursting, and the most enormous or excess dresses that couldn’t fit hung from wall hooks. What had been hers with its white and aqua walls, bike posters, and her parts box now became something cheaply soundproofed by lace. Lace buried even the flutter she once enjoyed from her white curtains. Everything was pink or silver or both or cream and red and grey and purple and she swallowed a scream. The last drops of sleep evaporated under her anger as she kneeled. Lili slept piled under the futon straight backed; a velvet mask embroidered with flowers over her eyes. A neat collection of stuffed animals ringed her body. Her breaths were so quiet she could pass for dead. Asuka considered it for a split second. She poked her cheek.

“Hey wake up. Training starts before school.”

Nothing, she poked her harder.

“C’mon you can hear me can’t you?”

A sudden mumble then jerk, but still she slept. Asuka groaned into a growl, leaning right into her face.

“Wake the hell up dumbass!”  

“AAAUGH!”

Lili shot upright slamming them together, a breeze from the impact shifting Asuka and sending her rolling across the floor. Pain exploded, purple spots flashed her vision then were gone.

‘Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck-‘

“Fuuuckk!”

“My god what’s wrong with you?”

“You! You and your forehead nearly killed me.”

“What did you expect yelling so close like that? You’re not even bleeding. I thought someone came to kill me! Or rob us, or both.”

Asuka grumbled then settled into a scowl. She felt her face tenderly; Lili was right. Her head throbbed but hadn’t caught a scratch.

“Whatever. Keep your voice down or Dad might wake up. Sorry.”

Lili grimaced as she pulled off her eye mask, tossing it over a shoulder as she stood and yawned.

“Why are we up before the sun anyway? My beauty sleep will be ruined.”

Asuka sighed.

“Training.”

By the time they’d each had their turn fishing in the dresser true dawn dappled through the windows. Thankfully Lili matched her careful pace and save for their footfalls the house laid blanketed between quiet and nature’s white noise. Asuka glanced at her from the corner of her eye. Lili wore her hair pinned in a bun with an upturned tail, a headband cupping her bangs; both were paired by a compression tank top that hugged everything, and flowy sweatpants. From the midriff down were stitched roses and sharp curving vines. It wasn’t bad, and that made her bite her lip.

Her nose twitched when she could smell the training hall before they entered it. The rainbow of roses was now wilted; their grey brittle shells crunching under her feet. Musk of decay mixed with rancid sweetness filled her mouth. Behind her she heard coughing followed by a dry gag. Lili threw a hand over her lips; her eyes startled wide.

“My poor things…”

She watched her shift forward and Asuka threw out an arm to stop her, gently. Lili’s body had a softness to it, but to her surprise she felt muscle only practice produced. A jolt like a warm electric shock raced up her arm. She replied firm like it could restrain a tinge of regret.

“I saved the ones I could but they were already half dead when I came home. Then the ones I threw into vases died a little while after too.”

“You tried.”

Lili whispered absentmindedly, a hint of disbelief. Asuka sucked her teeth. Did she come off heartless to this girl? It was completely unfair, after all-

“None of them had to die if you hadn’t thought to leave a bunch of flowers without water. That’s so wasteful and stupid.”

“Making things beautiful is not stupid; you lack refined tastes. Being an uncouth boor seems to better suit you.”

“Yeah well, whatever that means, at least I have sense.”

They stomped at one another, their faces drawn close enough to feel the heat rising after every word. Asuka bit her lip; her jaw tightened into a scowl. Then, rather than argue and scrunch further, Lili ‘Hmph’d’ and turned away.

“We’re wasting time if we’re going to get any practice done before school.”

“No. I will be practicing forms. You can clean this up; it’s your mess. I’m not showing you squat for however long that takes.”

Before Lili could bark another complaint from her twitching mouth Asuka pointed a finger.

“Look up.”

Above the doorway rested the outline of bright untouched wood versus the rest of the dark wall polished by age. Its straight lines and angles formed the shape of a missing rectangle. Lili cocked her head, her expression stilled.

“What was there?”

“Dad hung our school’s motto on a plaque before I was born. It was nailed right in that spot, until that Kempo bastard snapped it like a twig when he trashed the place.”

Every syllable saw her blood boil, every word guiding the drum of her heart pounding in her ears. The hairs on her nape stood not stiff in fear as it was rage howling for release. In her vision there rested only the naked wall, nothing else.

“I need to get stronger, hunt him, and then I’m taking our school sign back. That one he stole like it was nothin’ but some cheap trophy. When he’s begging mercy at my feet, it won’t be over till he’s pissing, shitting, and eating through tubes!”

Spittle flew through the bite of her last word. Her heart turned to roaring in her ears; not her heart entirely but the rush of air, she realized, when she heard a gasp beyond it. Lili stood, that doe eyed stare returned now bordering on panic as she trembled softly. Glancing at the floor Asuka found her own fists had clenched. Since when? Her body had grown tight, pain beginning to throb in deeper knots along her limbs, her back. She breathed in then out. Her voice became stifled.

“Whenever we’re here we have to bow at the sign, got it? That’s all.”

She did so, half in demonstration and half in fervor; a perfect tilt neither too high nor too in the middle. When she walked away roses parted at the force on her heels. Lili said nothing, but she heard faint shuffling, a pause, followed by more movement fuzzing at the edge of her awareness. Forms, she needed to concentrate on her forms now. Bending down in the middle of the hall she cleared a circle then straightened into position. Breathe in then out.

First came arm stretches followed by meaty pops from both shoulders, she shivered into a sigh at those. Then she bent over feeling the burn in her hamstrings before it fizzled out. Slowly she stretched out one leg at a time for her sitting hamstring work, then ankle flexes. The routine loosening each limb emptied her mind, honed her focus into a single razor point.

There was a nagging presence circling the edge of her awareness, she launched into White Heron Dance. Its sequence was familiar, her roundhouse kicks spinning her with whirlwind momentum into a sucker punch that curved the air in passing. Moon Scent would be next. She threw herself downward, bouncing from a handstand as she speared her legs into an upward arc. Like a looping bird she let gravity carry her backflip, fluid as water. Her stomp boomed when she landed upright again. She caught her breath, readying to jab when the presence danced across her skin, refusing now to hide.

 Asuka glanced at Lili, wrinkling her brow in confusion when the girl kept staring as if mesmerized. She scoffed. A rich girl had probably never seen anyone who worked for their skills, much less the sturdy muscle years of technique carved along Asuka’s body.  Even other girls during P.E. class at school were prissy about it- until she’d once sent a few flying. None of them had ever turned as red as Lili now was though.

“What? Quit grilling me unless you’ve got something to say.”

Lili turned away and swept the roses slower. The flush on her face reached her fingertips.

“Sh-Shut your mouth.” Was all Asuka heard her grumble.

She adjusted her crop top and shifted her shorts. The modest room seemed to shrink the longer neither moved. Then just like that Lili went back to sweeping as she jabbed the first steps of Basho’s Dance.

Together they faced the walk to school. One glance at the battered frame and missing bolts of Asuka’s bike had her tugging Lili along before a word could shoot out her mouth. It was left leaning against the house; her stomach sank at Lili having seen it at all. Then she was under a barrage.

First the streets were nice to walk but crowded easily yet it was better than Monaco. The weather was too cold at a slight breeze despite it being May. They were too far away to smell the ocean. There were no gull calls floating readily through the air in their neighborhood. Despite this the buildings were beautiful, quaint, and street signs were a splendid rainbow. Asuka’s uniform, though handsome with a popped collar and short sleeves, was too typical. Nothing could change it being a sweater vest over a dress shirt and a skirt, how very dull. It lacked the refined precision of a superior tailor- Lili had a dozen points proving as much. And that was why she’d had hers custom ordered to her measurements in a green complimenting her as well as the hand sown cuffs. Her butler, Sebastian, had arranged paying off their principal so she could keep it on. She had something to say after every other block; it took only three before Asuka wished she’d shut the fuck up. Instead she rested her bag over her shoulder, her chin held high, and humored her anyway.

Homeroom finally divided them by school year, and even if she whined about it and rolled her eyes, Lili relented. Teachers shooed her away toward the Second Years by the time Asuka sat her ass in the Third Year class she rightfully belonged with. Everyone else clustered around their circles of the room, chatting about gossip she didn’t understand. Understanding hadn’t been a privilege she’d held since her first time storming back, that Kempo bastard having been nowhere she could reach. It would be almost a year ago since she’d flung desks out the window when one boy joked ‘At least you got to be a tourist while the rest of us took exams!’ The suspension afterwards marred her student record, yet when she’d been yelled at in the faculty office she’d felt nothing. There’d been only the off white of the florescent lights, fury killing the pain into numbness.

Their homeroom teacher whose name she couldn’t remember called everyone’s attention. The pockets of gossip went back to their rank and file seats for roll call and bowing. Waiting for her name to be called she stood, a handful of glances finding her staring at the wall clock. Behind her more gazes merged and bore upon her shoulders. Whispers tickled her ears buzzing like gnats, silenced when their tired teacher asked,

“Asuka Kazama?”

“Here.”

She sat down when he passed her over and leaned back in her chair, arms crossed, brow narrowed. It was every day with this shit. When the lecture started she pulled out her notebooks in silence. Half of her listened; reason kept her anger lidded to a simmer.

History was today’s first subject. It was something about the Sengoku Era picking up off yesterday’s lesson. She hadn’t kept track since chasing Lili at the seventh Iron Fist Tournament; with the bombings, cities in rubble, and armies mowing each other down on the news, studying felt as much a moot point. Her hand clenched in her hair absentmindedly as she took notes on Nobunaga Oda’s last stand at Honnō-ji. His own men had turned and cornered him like a rat. In the crowd around her some jeering or nervous faces turned away when she returned their stares. Many had been weak little squirts running to her covered in bruises when they were in elementary school. She’d charged their bullies and taken blows she’d showed off to Dad wearing a toothy grin. Her enemies were left groaning on the pavement, worthless against the latest technique she’d trained. Asuka’s eyes stuck to her paper, gritting her teeth.

Math came next. An equation that stretched a good width of the chalkboard had her cocking her head, a brow raised incredulously. Then the worst possible thing happened as she squinted in frustration- the teacher locked eyes with her.

“Ms. Kazama, can you tell us the correct answer?”

Two people snickered. She stood and crossed her arms. It was algebra she recognized but never exceled at. If she multiplied, subtracted, carried the one and divided she’d get…

“Er, uh, is it four?”

Pain swatted against her forehead flashing purple spots in her vision. Something clattered at her feet and when she crunched it underfoot she found chalk dust.

“Perhaps you’d know if you took your education seriously. Next.”

She balled her hands at her sides growling into a scowl. Not caring for surrender she flopped back down into her seat and stared into her notes. Then came more whispers,

“Kazama struggles with math worse than I do…”

“Of course she does all she cares about is fighting.”

“Don’t let her hear you or she’ll turn into Violent Kazama!”

Literature class left her tongue tied and head swimming in muddy metaphors. One book’s story could contain a million answers and counter answers, and then there was the view teachers wanted you to have. She wasn’t picked for a read aloud, sighing in relief at that. Still, she tried looking as neutral as her face could tolerate. Her fists clenched on her desk.

‘How the hell am I supposed to know what some author’s going through? Nothing’s going right with me!’

She didn’t even want to attempt English. The straight and curved squiggles of letters on the board were jumbled nonsense. Her notes tapered into messy lines. The borders of her page became busy with scribbles. In one she trampled that Kempo bastard underfoot, holding her dojo’s sign above her head, triumphant. In another Dad practiced his form grinning ear to ear. Then without thinking she drew curve after curve until Lili’s arrogant eyes and unknowable smile framed in a detailed portrait stared up at her. She sucked her teeth quietly.

Lunch came without fanfare when everyone again went in their little corners eating together. Some people scraped their chairs loudly when they moved seats; when she looked around she sat alone. Even the bullied loner kids had made a camp of their own. They shot her nervous, pitiful glances. Tch. She scowled into a sigh. Her lunch amounted to a protein shake and the bento she normally made slapped together without order. The rice, unshaped and seaweed scattered, half buried her sliced sausage. The pickled radishes, lettuce, and sliced carrots spilled over the rectangle cut omelets and nearly the rest of the box.  Her hamburger steak felt fucking pathetic squished at the center of it all. The nonsense that morning, and Lili’s cluelessness doing anything herself made Asuka rush in the kitchen. Before she could wallow her stomach growled.

Whispers beat against her as she ate.

“Stupid.”

“Nosey.”

“Thug.”

“Didn’t you hear? What if she’s related to that Jin Kazama, the terrorist…?”

“Enough people end up in the hospital ‘cuz of her. Even if they’re mostly punks…”

She gritted her teeth and glared like she could punch using her eyes. Her name went quiet after that. After the final bell for the day she checked the chalkboard and breathed a sigh of relief. She wasn’t on cleaning duty this time, and that made her steps ten times lighter out the door. Her bag went on her shoulder, swaggering even as the tips of her ears flushed. A pair of girls walking toward her staggered and speed walked away at one glance. Asuka growled and the weight in her steps thud off the walls like trampling hooves. She turned the corner to find them opening their shoe lockers. They gasped, bug eyed as they gaped like the idiots they were, fumbling to get their loafers on. The taller one fell against the lockers and yelped letting her lackey drag her away. She dashed forward and yelled after them,

“Go ahead and fuck off! That’s right! I hate you too!”

She sucked her teeth kicking off her school slippers, angry enough to never care again. When she opened her locker a presence hovered by her left-

“These people are largely lacking in the social graces, it seems. How awful.”

The hairs on her nape stood and her grip grabbing her shoes turned her knuckles white. Her jaw clenched, for a breath she stared ahead utterly still. When she slammed her locker shut Lili jolted but recovered as if not a hair were out of place. She threw her shoes to the ground and shoved into them one foot at a time. She didn’t bother looking at her until there were no options left. The heat rose like steam off her skin; her face scrunched into a glare that made Lili cock her head. Asuka stared her up and down. Lili stood rod straight holding her bag in front of her with both hands; a picture perfect schoolgirl waiting poised like some cliché out of an old drama. Like a cat sitting in a high place it didn’t belong; ignorant to any wrong it’d done.

She leaned up right in her face. The air wrapped around them hot, stale, bristling.

“You made it worse.” The words practically spat out her mouth.

“I beg your pardon?”

“First I had to go chase my Dad’s enemy halfway across the world; people gave me shit for ‘overreacting’. People started doubting what I’ve done for them. They think I just want to fight. Then you came along pulling me into whatever this petty bullshit grudge you have is. You made me show up to the Iron Fist Tournament on live TV missing more school, and what do I find when I meet you? You’re not making any sense talking about my family, what fucked up bloodlines I belong to; the drama that’s destroying the world could come after me. Buying my house, moving in! Now they think I’m like the idiots I clean up on the streets and treat me even worse!”

Finally Lili’s brow pinched.

“Petty? You think what I do is petty?”

“What else is this shit supposed to be? I’ve only met you three times and you’re already ruining my life.”

“Ruining- I can’t believe this. Our rematch outside this school was for my honor after you trounced me at our first meeting. Everything since however has been for your benefit-“

“Don’t you dare say that-“

“I just don’t understand your anger over something practical-“

“THIS IS YOUR FAULT!”

A gale roared flinging Lili’s hair wild as a shaking tree; she stumbled then froze in terror. Asuka felt nothing but the stinging of her blood, a burning on her skin. Then she followed Lili’s stare. Her right fist trembled, raised mid punch, her twitching muscle all that leashed it as if it were a tugging dog. Her ears were ringing.  Her tongue felt like pins and needles. Blood trickled down her knuckles from a few tiny cuts. It was so strange; she could see the heat haze rising off her wounds. Her mind went blank.

“Asuka…”

Her tendons flexed as she forced her arm down. The thud of her bag hitting the floor came muffled to her. To breathe shook her body one wheeze after another. Behind her long shadows smothered all warmth from the room.

Her voice was ice.

“Fuck you.”

She took off sprinting outside not caring what direction took her so long as she flew anywhere else. Far, far, and far away; anywhere else. The streets blurred past into denser and denser blocks lined with bright neon or metal signs. Lanes and corners went from mostly empty to small crowds parting at her wrath.

‘Where…where’s some punks…where?!’

The soles on her shoes squeaked as she dipped into an alley. She heard voices pop into existence and her ears perked.

“Got a problem asshole? This is our turf.”

“Not last week it wasn’t, you assholes keep pushin’ your way in here. You got no respect!”

“What’d you say fuckin’ tough guy?”

“Eat shit and give it up!”

Ahead of her figures lunged together until they became two big guys locked in each other’s grip. She flung herself high, tucked in, then thrust out both legs.

“Hold it right there!”

Instantly her heels bashed against their skulls crashing them together; she flipped and rolled safely off their domes. When she stood up there were no exits, just two gangs bunched shoulder to shoulder. At least twelve boys her age now circled her gawking and silent. She got up slowly, catching a deep breath then stopped.

Stand tall, now.

The pair she’d crashed into rolled and groaned clutching themselves before going dead still. They were blacked out. Good. She liked these odds. A guy wearing a jumpsuit stitched with catchphrases and his hair slicked back pointed at her.

“Who the fuck are you?”

She dusted off her hands then put one on her hip and smirked.

“Nothing belongs to either of you; the least you can do is not fight where everyone can see. You’re disturbing the peace. Go knock each other out in private, got it?”

Taking a step forward she stabbed her finger on the flashy guy’s chest.

“That’s me telling you as the Gang Mediator of Osaka, Asuka Kazama!”

A heavy silence passed where only a breeze whistled through. Then roaring laughter burst into her ears without buildup. She scowled but before she could react the guy grabbed her wrist.

“You’re so full of it, look there’s blood on her knuckles and she’s talking about ‘disturbing the peace’ gyahahahaha!”

‘Shit.’

Then something deeper hummed, it liked these odds.

“What’re you gonna do arrest us? Where’s your badge?”

“We can handle cunts like you!”

She tried snatching her hand away but he gripped it tight; his eyes narrowed like he’d stepped in fresh shit. She sighed.

“Put the turf on hold let’s get this bitch.”

As he grinned she gripped him by the hand he held and yanked them together. One of her legs swept his left shin; the instant he stumbled her fist slammed into his jaw. Woozy, he started crumpling when her kick flew into his nose.  The next guy hurled a right cross she dodged, seizing his arm and flipping him to let momentum do the rest. He hit the ground with a smack, her heel stomping his throat. More goons scrambled to corner her from every side; thinking fast she chopped one’s windpipe and shoved another with both palms. She dashed between the gaps he left as he fell into the others, toppling some into a groaning pile.

 The guys left standing chased her into the alley she’d come from, not bothering to look around until she readied herself. By then their mistake sealed them into a single file row but still they raged.

‘Now ya really asked for it!’

She went low planting her hands on the ground before kicking in a perfect arc on her backflip. The rubber of her soles bounced knocking a guy’s chin backwards. A few teeth clattered to the pavement. She caught her breath and ran as more trampled him underfoot. It was a few meters until she could see the sign lined street peeking ahead. She booked it, narrowly emerging in time to sidestep a grab for her hair. Again she ducked sweeping the guy’s ankle; bashing his shin, and then sprung into a one two punch.  In an instant his head knocked around harder than a jiggling water balloon. With a roar she thrust a kick forward booting him easy as a door. They cried and shouted under another pile up. One avoided the spill and charged; two punches whipped together was her answer.

“Somebody hit her already!”

“Stop pushing!”

“Who stepped on my new sneakers?”

“This bitch is stronger than a fucking gorilla!”

Again some lunged after her but she was shorter, faster, and nimble as the wind she sent them falling in a row. Then pain slammed her from behind shooting lightning across her spine. Crying out she stumbled but didn’t slump. Not wasting precious seconds she felt her neck rock sideways as she turned; the boy’s punch glanced her and even half its power crashed like a waterfall.

‘Fuck…’

“I got her!”

Roaring, Asuka pivoted into a back turn throwing herself behind her right shoulder; he slammed against a building, bouncing off the wall. His body dropped useless as a sack of meat. Everything went quiet; every eye had traced the arc of his flight. She gathered her breath, huffing and slinking back into stance. Her hands waited, palms slicked with sweat the same as her hair sticking to her forehead. Her clothes were getting damp; this had to end soon, Dad’s voice chided echoing in her mind. A grimace shut him out. Carefully she watched them and planted her feet. Anger cinched her into one piece, one feeling that demanded nothing but to sit beside her. Whether it was bravery, stubbornness, or still being pissed the boys started getting up.

She shook her head, grinned, and was gone in the fray.

Darkness filled the gaps of the sign lights curving over twelve sprawled bodies. She huffed, bent and holding her knees to stand. Everything from hair to socks stuck against her skin as if she’d spent hours rolling in cement. Her muscles pooled heat in knots. Tenderly she prodded her face; a swell around her left eye would definitely bruise by morning. Blood had long dried just under her left temple too, she wasn’t worried about that. When she tugged her sweater and checked for stains, she groaned finding streaks of it. Swaying she managed getting herself upright. The world wobbled the way your balance tipped lifting a heavy block. Her throat was sandpaper she couldn’t swallow enough to wet.

Someone moaned stirring painfully slow near the edge of the sprawl. Asuka gnashed her teeth into a growl and limped toward him. Winding a kick she slammed his head planting him on his back. Then finally she was alone. She roared into the sky,

“Next time listen to me you dumbasses! No fighting!”

She spat at them and kept going down the cleared street. The fighting must have shooed everyone when she’d been busy. It wasn’t even a long walk, she knew this area the more she looked around, but each step was lead. The streets could have stretched a few meters or several kilometers, time lessened nothing. At least she had her vision, scanning for the familiar signs and lanes that would turn into home. Like an idiot she’d left her phone in her school bag, and she’d never gotten into watches despite Dad swearing by them. Whenever it was she guessed the trains still ran with as many people crossing intersections as there were. That made it late enough though that she’d probably missed dinner. People quickly turned not daring to look her in the eyes. Or they gasped, froze in place, and then scurried off. She sighed softly but never once rested.

When she turned a familiar intersection her chest tightened; another punk crowd lounged outside a Lawson’s. They laughed, pretended to fight, and ate snacks loud enough to set her head aching halfway down the block. She sucked her teeth. To her left opened up another tight alley; if she could just limp across, if she could just stay low then-

“Ms. Asuka? Izzat you?”

“What’s she doing out this late?”

“Yeah that’s her look, look!”

Their sneakers hit the pavement thundering closer and closer. Growling she pulled herself up, readying her hands. Their eyes glinted under the streetlights bouncing from surprise to shock. She squinted and studied their faces, their casual dress. For once her relief seemed like it could melt her pain away. She’d broken these guys in months ago. Their fussing was music to her ears, and when the leader insisted two people help her stand while they walked her home, she didn’t resist. Everyone rained down questions scrambling her thoughts until she swore she might explode. So instead, urging them to shut up for a second, she gave them the rundown start to finish. Lili however, of course, was none of their business.

They ooh’d and ahh’d and that got a snicker out of her. Twelve guys at once, they kept passing it around as if the words were something they could touch. Someone slapped her shoulder. Another offered her an energy drink she gulped greedily. As it dribbled down her chin she asked them if they’d been making nice around town. Silence fumbled in the darkness but when her eyes narrowed they nodded and reassured her. Yesterday they hadn’t even fought anyone, helping a granny cross the street instead. Exhaustion drowned her will to question. They chatted until she had nothing but listening to their jokes.

She said goodbye waving off their good cheer two blocks from home and felt lighter. A dog barked somewhere when she leaned against her courtyard’s fence; her head throbbed. Huffing for breaths she looked up. Lili sat on the front step head in hand and scrolling her phone. Seconds passed and when she blinked they were staring. Out came her next breath and Lili ran toward her; Asuka had never seen her move so fast. She found herself in her arms and managed a protesting groan but didn’t pull away. Lili’s fingers tenderly grazed her black eye.

“My god where the hell have you been, what happened?! Do you have any idea how late it is? You idiot running off like that without even taking your things…”

Asuka’s temper smoldered, fizzled into ash.

“I’m fine, go get my Dad he knows about patching me up. And quit hugging me you’re not making this hurt any less! You’re the idiot.”

“Stop talking or I shall drop you where you stand so you may crawl inside.”

“Damnnit.”

Dad wove the gauze tight between her knuckles. She hissed then shuddered when he glared back. With a sigh she put her chin in her other hand. She couldn’t tell if he read her regret; the ice pack taped to her face blocked half her vision. Her shoulders sagged pathetically. A cold jolt prickled along the cut beneath her eye; on reflex she hissed and instantly the pain began dulling. Lili had a steady hand applying a second thin streak of ointment.

“At least warn me when you’re gonna do that.”

“Hush, there’s no time to waste keeping these from ballooning overnight.”

“Listen to her Asuka. It’s you who went looking for trouble when unfocused in the first place.”

She swallowed hard then huffed quietly.

“Lift your head and hold still, I’m applying your bandage.” Lili said.

Asuka obeyed; this time she could feel their body heat hovering close. Lili’s touch worked so softly on her skin, Asuka couldn’t find it in her to feign annoyance. It didn’t hurt at all like it should. A low gentle hum rumbled in her throat when Lili’s thumb smoothed the bandage, the white noise of an absent mind filled the space. Then Dad cleared his throat breaking the spell; her eyes widened driving that weird calm away like someone throwing stones after a fleeing dog. She rubbed her head and scoffed, crossing her arms in silence. Lili humph’d and did the same.

“So, what started this?”

Dad looked dead at her. Anger rolled when she flexed her tense shoulders, fogging as it curled her voice.  

“My classmates avoid me and talk crap about what we’re going through at school. It’s nothing I can’t handle so don’t worry yourself.”

“You’re the one coming home like this. Defending yourself or someone is what I encouraged you to do, not chase idiots proving how tough you are. What have I kept telling you-“

“Fight with a clear head.” She sighed.

“That’s right.”

“If I might add Mr. Kazama…”

She turned expecting Lili stone faced or cocky. Instead a frown wrinkled her mouth, her eyes narrowed just enough. It was like she’d seen this before; daughters at odds with fathers.

“I saw some of the bullying myself. Anyone would have found it insulting, and though I didn’t mean to contribute, some misunderstandings between us worsened everything. I suppose I played a part in her rage.”

“Played a part, you are-“

“Asuka. I understand Lili and I appreciate you admitting fault. But in the end she is responsible for her behavior.”

He leaned back stretching his sinewy legs, worn into silence. Then he sighed and she saw even his shoulders deflate.

“Just go Lili. Thank you for your help.”

Without a word she watched her bow her head, give her an unreadable glance, then she was gone. Gently Asuka pressed the ice pack closer against her skin. Immediately her body winced, saving her from looking him in the eye.

“Times like these make me not know what to do with you girl.”

“What else am I supposed to do? It’s between this and the world going to shit, I...”

He leaned forward taking her hand with both of his. His face softened. Asuka’s heart seized up her throat.

“I know what happened while I was…getting better. I wouldn’t wish the burden you had on my worst enemy. Watching while what our family built gets sold off piece by piece. The bills. Not a single old student asking what we, what you needed. Whole thing haunts me waking or dreaming.”

Her muscles locked; she hung her head before her lip began quivering. A cry choked and died inside. She felt hot tears dripping into her bangs. Dad smoothed her hair, tucking parts behind her ears. Asuka cried.

“My poor girl.”

“…I’m confused Dad. I’m so confused.”

He kept petting her hair, each new pass making her weightless.

“What’s confusing, which part? Tell me what it is.”

“She just, that girl never tells me what she wants! And if she does it’s wrapped up so fast I can’t keep track. Nothing makes sense anymore and she wants to make that worse. She’s so fucking cocky about driving me in circles.”

He sighed.

“Well, if I know you the way I do, did you press her to talk straight- or did you feel lost and get fed up when you weren’t hearing what you wanted?”

She snapped up glaring, pointed as a knife. He chuckled like he knew something she didn’t.

“You want me sitting there and taking stupid crap?” She growled into a sniffle.

“No. I’m saying sometimes you gotta find out as much as you can before you hold grudges. Can’t punch your way through life kiddo.”

Again her lip quivered, no longer pained. He leaned close. He put on his firm voice.

“Someone like that never wears their heart on their sleeve. Not usually.”

He clapped her forearm and shuffled toward the fridge. She sat there, blinking. Her knuckles stung flexing her hand. Spots of blood seeped into the bandage; the red pinpricks tightening her chest when she couldn’t help counting them.

“Dad.”

“Yeah kid?”

“When…when I got mad and shouted at Lili…my arm moved on its own. I didn’t even feel pain or my skin tearing. I was just making a fist…and the wind went crazy. It blew; around me. I blinked and it shot out everywhere.”

His spine went ridged, lamp post straight. His eyes fixed something hard and tighter than his discipline at training.

“I didn’t mean to!”

“The heat of the moment got to you. I know your temper; you let it blind your mind. You’ll get pissed enough and forget about stopping yourself. And you’ve been stressed. Yes I could tell don’t look at me like that. Rest is what you need.”

He said it matter-of-factly erasing any questions. Not entertaining a single one even if she got them out. Her stomach bundled a knot she felt pinch her breath. She nodded and glanced toward the wall. There was nothing more to say. Already she cast it down her lake of memory, where it sank with a sword’s weight.

Burying under her thin summer covers she stared at the ceiling. A plate of dinner had been saved for her, setting her stomach near bursting now. Only their breathing filled the night, Lili having taken her place among her stuffed animals. Slowly Asuka sat up, squinting to make out her silhouette; the girl was fast asleep. She had no idea how. It never seemed she did much all day save for homework and experimenting ridiculous skin routines. Unless they crossed paths or ate dinner Asuka kept to herself. Though sometimes, without meaning it, she’d overhear soft conversations; phone calls reassuring Sebastian, and other things she was sure. Words slid back down like watery noodles. She lay flat again on her doubled pillows, until her throbbing head lulled her away.

When she dragged herself out the bath the next morning her wobbling steps wanted nothing more than to crawl back into bed. She yawned gripping the towel around her neck; the tips of her wet hair kept passing out at bay. As she stood drying off, a distant thump echoed almost as if it were right beside her. Fumbling into a shitty stance she nearly tripped over the towel, scrambling to snatch it before it might hit the floor. Another thump echoed to match the first. Then a third, faster stomp followed, scared to miss the rhythm of what came before it. Her feet moved toward the training hall; not a thought in her mind giving voice to the goosebumps climbing her arms.

She poked her head through the entrance; Lili landed a perfect backflip.  There came a calculated pause for catching her breath, before she pivoted into a roundhouse kick. Its arc spread a bit too wide but that didn’t lessen how it snapped the air. Her back was turned to Asuka as she wiped her face with a handkerchief. From wall to wall the floors were spotless. A grin touched her. Quiet and gingerly she leaned against the doorway. 

Tucking the handkerchief into a pocket, Lili huffed, hands on her hips. Asuka blinked, and she threw another roundhouse. This one snapped sharp, corrected into something sleek. She watched her throw out five more never resting save for the turn from one to another. Groaning, Lili launched into a somersault; when their eyes met she tumbled out her landing. Asuka laughed so hard her towel shook free crumpling at her feet.

“Nique ta mère!” Lili shouted.

Asuka slid down wiping tears, twitching when her laughs grew louder. She slapped her thighs nearly tipping sideways. Lili slammed her fist, tried to stand, then tripped over herself. In a few steps she towered over her, and offered a hand. It was met with a glare. She cocked her head and shrugged, but Lili grabbed it as she pulled away. Asuka stood her up slow; the girl dusted her hands off, her thanks amounting to a simple ‘Hmph’.

“I could have done without your sneaking around, but what did you think?”

“About the practice or you eating shit on the floor?”

“That tongue of yours should be traded for some manners.” Lili’s dry tone pinched her expression.

Asuka snorted a tiny laugh into her fist.

“At least I can see you’re not lazy, even when you get sloppy. I remember a few students used to quit after barely starting. Just ‘cuz they thought they’d be action heroes in a day. Then when it turned out they didn’t get it perfect in a second, poof.”

Lili smirked.

“Yes well, I do not intend on going ‘Poof’; I intend to win.”

“Against me?”

Lili’s expression hardened sensing wariness.

“Against whatever stands in my way.”

Then she smiled flipping her bangs. She was being a dumbass again.

“And that may include you, or it may not. Time will tell. Now let us ready for school.”

“…You’re so damn annoying.”

Lili curtseyed and walked past with a spring in her step. When she disappeared silence lingered for how long Asuka didn’t count until she heard birds singing outside. The world was waking up. She took in the empty hall. Crisp air cleansed her lungs; everything spotless. A smile came without thinking. Her satisfied chuckle warmed like a cloudless summer. She looked it over one last time, and then left the pull of childhood behind.

Lunch at school was no longer the hard won lesser evil she could tolerate. The left side of her face formed a minor swell beneath bandages and one of several fresh ice cubes in plastic baggies Dad had tossed in a thermal bag. Fixing it to her head had her fumble an entire roll of gauze. Every bite of food brought tiny hammers down on her jaw. The whispers had outright ballooned into normal chatter.

“Whoa look at that! It’s a blue black plum!”

“Did she seriously go look for a fight right after school? So typical.”

“How dangerous…oh my god she glared at me.”

From the side of the room a door slid open. Asuka didn’t bother checking to see until suddenly she heard no sound.  Lili flipped her hair as she swaggered in, sitting right beside her and smirking. She watched her place her briefcase and take out her own boxed lunch like this were some prissy café and dozens weren’t gawking. Several pounding heartbeats passed for anyone to find the mind to speak.

“How the hell did you find my class?” Asuka whispered.

“It’s called asking around don’t be stupid.” 

A few people crowded them, walling Lili off before others got the chance for five seconds of her presence. Keeping the utmost poise, she gave them not a single glance as she opened her food. They may as well have not existed when she began setting the table. It was impressive. A wide faced girl at the front who Asuka recognized as the Third Year gossip bitch grew antsy, tugging the hem of her skirt. Her flunkies flanked her mimicking the shy act better than a clone. The whole thing gave Asuka chills.

“Wow are you the new transfer girl? Hiii, my name’s Ayako and-“

“What appointment did you schedule to interrupt me?”

Asuka watched Ayako freeze in her tracks; the plastic smile now stiff and twitching at the corners. Her robot wiring had short circuited. The circle of her little goons threw their hands over their mouths. They glanced from their leader to Lili and back again.

“…Sorry, we just thought you’d want to eat with better company. Among people who can show you all kinds of things so you’re not lost. Your hair is sooo pretty by the way. What’s the secret?”

Lili unfolded a napkin onto her lap and started cutting the filleted swordfish beside her salad of tomatoes, olives, and bell peppers. All things she had insisted on bringing to Japan in a cooler, of course. Ayako leaned forward sticking her hands on the desk mere centimeters from Lili’s arm.

“Just so you know, for your own good you know, that girl next to you…she puts people in the hospital. She’s sooo unsafe, you know?”

Neatly Lili set down her knife and fork, dabbing the napkin at her mouth. Asuka made a choked sound watching her stand and push past them. Without warning she planted her ass right in front of Asuka’s lunch and crossed her legs. Her hands folded on her knees while Asuka sputtered for the right words. She never found them when Lili cocked her head and bore polite, surgical venom.

“Who told you to wear that cheap makeup and slouch like a slob when talking?”

“Excuse me?! What’s your problem?”

“Oh, nothing. I simply cannot recall when I requested a small minded cow offer their opinion. Much less dictate anything toward me, of all people. Perhaps being so comfortable brown nosing, there’s another ass you should be licking.”

Chopsticks fell from Asuka’s grip clattering into her rice. She stared at her wide eyed and mouth gaping. Ayako burned so red she could be a dynamite stick that sparked itself. All at once the flunkies clung to each other rubbing Ayako’s arms and shoulders. They showered her in nasally compliments, but that didn’t stop her shoving them aside, balling her fists.

“B-Bitch!” She shrieked.

“I must get back to eating, if you’ll excuse me.”

She threw herself to her feet giving them a dismissive wave. Bumping them out her way she set everything as it’d been, and dug into lunch. Ayako moved to snatch Lili’s knife; Lili plucked her wrist mid thrust and twisted it in reverse. She bent it at an angle taking a bite off the fork while the girl sank to her knees, screaming breathlessly.

“Ah ah ah I would not flail if I were you. Run along now.  Adieu.”

She gave Ayako’s wrist a jerk then released her. Wheezing and shaking Ayako scooted on her ass, crawling and tripping over the floor. Together her goons pulled her up. Wobbling they stumbled into the corner they came from. Asuka who stood ready on reflex found herself reduced to a dumb stare.

“Better?”

Lili asked, smiling, eyes studying.  Slinking down in her chair Asuka pinched her brow and held her head in her hands. Gripping her chin couldn’t conceal a tiny smile.

From then on she never ate alone. Each day Lili announced her arrival by striking some model pose or with a hair flip. Then she’d park her ass beside Asuka surrounded by everyone pretending they weren’t scared. At least Asuka no longer heard her name in gossip. For a day someone tried slipping Lili’s name within earshot. No one said so, but the immediate silence could only have been under Ayako’s orders. For her part Lili didn’t seem to give a shit; in fact she’d never seen her so self-assured. At first she felt her skin crawl, that ugly nervousness she hated even imagining. But not a week passed before she started grinning too.

Each day her eye got lighter, the bruise centimeters smaller, and soon she better recognized her reflection. Once, when Dad was out on an errand, she brought it up over tea. Without Sebastian there, Lili kept trying to brew the way he knew she liked. After Asuka showed her how water boiling worked obviously.  So far there’d been no success.

“I haven’t forgotten about the other day you know.”

Lili stopped stirring sugar into her tea. Her tone had a way of looking at Asuka even if she herself wasn’t.

“Then you remember what I said.”

“Yeah I do. Don’t be an idiot.”

A silence passed. A hesitation. She got a tight lipped smile for a reply.

‘Playing the long game huh? I can do that too. I’ll figure you out.’

As long as her head kept pounding she never stepped foot in the training hall; instead she’d park herself at the door, watching Lili move. Each morning brought something new. Tighter swings, jumps and flips that belonged at the Olympics, Asuka chuckled remembering knocking Lili out the air for those. She refused to abandon the most ridiculous nonsense in the name of ‘aesthetics’.

“You need techniques that won’t leave you wide open!”

She couldn’t help but blurt it out while watching her fling herself around. Her nerves grinded like pepper through a shaker the longer she’d watched. Lili landed on her feet this time, wiping sweat as it touched her skin.

“What do you suggest that won’t rob me of my grace? Or will I be rolling across all manner of ground as you’d prefer.”

“Nuh uh, keep that attitude and I’m leavin’.”

Lili stopped running her handkerchief along her nape. Her eyes softened and for once she stood waiting patiently. Asuka grunted, satisfied. Stepping in slowly she bowed at the old sign spot then positioned herself behind Lili.

“I’m gonna have to touch you to explain.”

“Do as you must.”

“Ok so first, you tend to put your front foot a bit too forward in stance. That’s why I’ve never had much trouble sweeping it.”

“This can be done without reminding me of-“

Asuka planted a hand on Lili’s left thigh, guiding it until both legs were shoulder width apart. Against her warmth Lili shivered. But her body didn’t tense, staying loose when Asuka realized they were practically stuck together. An electric feeling coursed through twisting her gut. For a few seconds sounds were sharper, her touch sensitive; she thought she even tasted her. She pulled back just enough. Glancing up, the faintest blush painted Lili pink, even her eyes might’ve blushed if they could.  

“I’m not gonna touch anything if that’s what yer’ worried about! I used this kinda stuff to help our students when we had ‘em.”

“No…do more of that. I didn’t imagine you’d be so bold about it is all.”

“Shaddup you’re makin’ me sound like a pervert!”

“When did I say that? I am not. Are we continuing, or have your suggestions been cut short?”

“Tch. Keep your feet shoulder width apart. And your back should be straighter it’ll keep you balanced.”

Gentle yet firm she pressed the small of Lili’s back easing her into place. Their bodies drew close enough without hugging this time. Asuka felt Lili’s heart pound through the touch of her palm. It couldn’t explain why hers started racing too. Not a single movement was forced. Her tongue tied when Lili gave another unreadable glance and a smile. Like Asuka had once again played into her schemes. Another electric feeling rode under her skin.

“What next?” The smile hiked into a grin.  

“Movement; you dodge well but you over rely on it because your moves come out slowly. Don’t just hurl those complicated flips at an enemy. Make them want to come to you.”

Asuka barely kept her words together; everything had grown too hot. Finding strength she pulled her hands away. Lili smirked.

“My, you’ve studied me with an interest I’d never have imagined.”

“…I fight…any good fighter knows about paying attention.”

“Certainly. But after having fought only three encounters? I’m beginning to think you’re fonder than you let on.”

Immediately Asuka jabbed a finger at Lili’s chest. It was soft to the touch.

“I dunno what ‘fond’ means but we’re not friends! Don’t go actin’ like you know me for me.”

She huffed and stormed off without her heart in it. Her hopes were it read as ‘Screw You!’, but instead it fizzled into ‘Whatever’. Sucking her teeth she left Lili standing there; burying how she’d made her body sing a new song under silence.

That night they sat at the kitchen table, notebooks and worksheets piled between their dinners. Asuka had eyes on her homework and ears for her pencil scribbling. The swell around her eye had shrunk from a plum to a cherry tomato. The long form equation taunting her from the page met her glare. She scratched her head in frustration. A groan died in her throat when Lili beat her to it.

“These damned dates! I cannot believe anyone memorizes so many periods by heart.”

“History?”

“…Yes.”

Asuka snorted.

“That’s easy ‘cuz it’s all copying stuff down. Nobody’s asking you solve their problems that make no sense.”

Lili looked up at her, pencil butt pressed under her chin.

“Math?”

“Yeah…”

“Simple. Give it here and I shall explain, slowly.”

“Fuck off.”

She paused.

“You mean you can do stupid numbers and variable crap, but can’t read a few paragraphs?”

Lili leaned forward, a scowl splitting her mouth.

“And you are a year older than me but can’t do better than counting.”

Asuka’s grip squeezed a groan from the table when she leaned in too. They glared at each other; neither budged. Her brow quirked but Lili kept a straight face; who would break first? Time stopped. Then they each grabbed the other’s work sighing as they swapped.

“I’ll have you know I received top marks at home for this ‘number crap’. Numbers matter in business. And I’d hate seeing Daddy-Father, keel over from worry.”

“Daddy? Are you five?”

“Quiet! You must have your reasons as I do mine.”

She slouched thumbing the pages.

“History tells us what’s happened so we’ll be less stupid. It’s like tradition; you learn what to do and stuff. And why you should do it. That way you’re not confused.”

One glance and she found Lili staring into her eyes.

“And it can be rewritten too.”

Asuka’s face pinched. She looked at the notes.

“Whatever.”

Lili’s handwriting was neat and clear, highlighting chunks in a rainbow of inks, some glittery. Her brow rose. From the corner of her eye she spied Dad washing dishes. He smiled to himself.

The next time she saw her math teacher swagger in she slid a second notebook under the first. Terms and equations decorated its pages in lists. She’d copied them down herself with a pencil, much to Lili’s annoyance at how colorless that was. But she got through class without any chalk or suspicion hurled her way. A full picture stayed out of reach yet now she no longer drowned among the waves, sputtering for answers. When he left she slumped over her books with a relieved sigh. The notebook bent tight in her embrace.

Lunch came and went; Lili only gave her another unreadable smile when Asuka asked about history. She’d shrugged, eating with a silence between them she didn’t mind. Though she swore at some point, if this weren’t her imagination eating away her sense, Lili had shifted her seat closer. Now Asuka reached for her shoes; aching for the walk home, dinner, and beating numbers to a pulp. She saw blonde hair the instant her locker clattered shut. She jumped crying out,

“What the hell? At least say something moron.”

“Since we cannot train thanks to your eye, I insist you show me your city.”

“Ah, not listenin’ to me again. Alright.”

“Please…”

Asuka gnashed her teeth before turning to find a sight so pathetic she giggled. Lili stood pouting. Her hands balled at her sides not as if she wanted a fight, but like a kid about to stomp their foot. The hopeful glimmer clouding her eyes spilled over. It was a plea. Asuka’s breath hitched realizing this girl was at her full mercy. She grinned. She could do something with this.

“You can ask nicer than that.”

“Well, may I please ask you show me the rest of your beautiful home?” 

Asuka kicked off her school slippers for her shoes. She held a hum as she put her heels in one at a time, thinking nothing. When she was done Lili was still pouting, slouched in a kicked puppy way. She crossed her arms and rubbed her chin.

“Hmmm…I dunno how much I buy it. Doesn’t sound sincere enough.”

She knew that Lili knew. It was plain on her face. The girl was too clever not to know, too stubborn for-

Lili turned around placing her bag at her feet. Carefully she smoothed her hair, tucking whatever came loose. Her cuffs, blazer, and skirt were straightened. From her pockets came a compact with a round mirror. She checked her face. Asuka saw resolve in the briefest glimpse of her reflection. Finally ready, she tucked it away and picked up her bag, facing her again.

“Asuka Kazama. This is my first venture into Osaka. I would like your perspective as a native; to see what you feel it offers.”

“…Well…since you put it that way, maybe I will. C’mon.”

She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked off before Lili could react. Not a few seconds passed when she heard footsteps hurrying behind her. If they were going together, then so was Lili’s wallet. Quickly she flipped her phone open.

[To: Dad]

[ Hanging around with Lili after school; do you need anything from the market? ]

Lili caught up just as she hit send. Asuka smirked flipping the phone closed.

“What? Do you have somewhere in mind?”

“Yeah. Of course I do.”

The catlike grin Lili wore vanished the moment they met the swell of Dotonbori. People packed the bridge end to end bringing their bags, their noise, and each other. Open aired boats trucked beneath the underpass, carrying gawking tourists and their readied cameras. Neon signs dotted every billboard and restaurant woven between those lit by paper lanterns. Though their light was dim in the afternoon sun it grew by the second. They had few hours left before the nightlife stirred and nothing would be left for anyone their age. The entire city loved to come crawling out when the sun kissed it goodnight.

She found Lili frozen stiff in place, gripping her bag. A man passed her sending her recoiling against Asuka’s side. More people walked around them, two boulders diverting the stream. Still Lili’s eyes refused to shrink smaller than saucers of wonder as much as uncertainty. Asuka elbowed her gently. Lili stuck closer to her.

“What’s your problem? Changed your mind?”

“I’d seen pictures and heard rumors from Father’s business trips but, these are your streets? Is there nowhere…private?”

“It’s the street princess; didn’t you walk anywhere back home?”

Lili turned her head, mumbling.

“Seriously? No way-“

“Sebastian drives me around! It’s what we pay him to do…and he insisted anyway. And Father gave me my limo so…”

With a roar Asuka burst out laughing and slapped her leg not caring who stared.

“Stop that! Shut up! Idiot! So what if it’s my first time? You should be nicer about it.”

“I can’t, I can’t. I’m gonna pass out.” Asuka wheezed, gripping Lili’s forearm for balance and clutching her mouth. Her hand couldn’t contain another laugh from bending her over.

“Asshole. But you did call me princess so, I suppose, it isn’t all terrible.”

“Eh?”

When she looked up Lili wouldn’t look at her, but her skin turned a furious pink. Asuka huffed. Her heart kept racing.

“Weirdo. Let’s go already.”

She grabbed her hand and parted the crowds. Wave after wave would press them close until a break appeared, then it grew packed again. Not once did she feel their hands slip. When she slowed down descending the bridge stairs, Lili practically tipped them over. Asuka planted them against the handrail and let her right herself. The rest of the city flowed, some people throwing glares at having to step around them. She forgot about their hands feeling Lili’s breaths, her warmth, watching the flutter of her eyelashes. Her face felt hot; sweat started beading her clothes. Lili didn’t notice, instead scanning for their opening to move. Asuka licked her lips and tugged her along.  

The street thinned out beside the river. They stopped beneath a flashy yellow sign with a giant statue depicting Ebisu sitting above that. Don Quijote’s. She grinned.

“Is that a built in ferris wheel?” Lili blurted out, craning her neck toward Ebisu with awe. The lights on the carriages framing him were off.

“If it’s running every damn tourist and their family will want to ride it. It’d be dark by the time we left.”

Lili flashed her puppy dog eyes. Asuka quickly looked at the display shelves.

“What’s more important is the discount store! We need a new frying pan and I wanna check the deals.”

Something smooth swiped across her fingers. She saw Lili’s thumb retreat; they were still holding hands. Sucking her teeth Asuka let go. Taking her coy smile and bottomless poise with her Lili went ahead. It took strength to swallow and straighten her collar. Her phone beeped like a nagging little bird; tension fled her for sweet relief. Flipping it open, Dad’s message was a button away.

 [ Be home before 19:00.  Get a few instant udon, eggs, milk, and some instant curry. If I think of more I’ll text; have fun. ]

[ Thanks. ]

“What is this, a lineup of counterfeits? And so much candy and liquor…”

‘Ah shit.’

“Don’t go touchin’ anything we don’t need. I’m not trying to buy the place-“

She moved beside her with the halfhearted worry of an owner letting their dog free roam. Her words fell on deaf ears. Lili stood checking the bag display; her judging reflected off the glass case.

“This is a ‘discount store’ as you said no? Designer names truly do go places.”

“Those are second hand or something I dunno; can’t afford and don’t care about that crap.”

 “Neither do I; most are hideous and after a dozen or so from Father, simply boring.”

Asuka gawked.

“What? They’re only a few thousand euros it’s nothing.  It’s unlike here, where everything could be worth one but together bring such variety. For instance,”

She reached for something colorful off a shelf and thrust it at Asuka.

“What am I holding?”

“A water bottle.”

Lili grabbed another item. Asuka’s eyes narrowed, confused yet compelled to answer.

“House slippers.”

Another.

“Hair dryer.”

Another.

“Candy box.”

“See? Isn’t it interesting?”

“I don’t see your point. You’re just being weird.”

Lili’s expression soured.

“No. I’m demonstrating how you can gain so much at once for relatively little. There’s so much in fact you may be accustomed viewing it not as it is, but for what it does. And I find that fascinating.”

All her focus stretched and stretched then snapped wire thin. Asuka scratched her head absentmindedly. No matter how she tried there came nothing to say. Lili sighed, gesturing toward the row after row of displays, shelves, and cases boxing them in.

“Though I suppose, in the end, what value is there to anything unless it is beautiful.”

Their eyes met. There was a conviction, sincerity so keen from Lili, the feeling pierced Asuka warm as a sunbeam. She talked not through her but at her. Nothing hurt, and everything seemed a bit brighter. Fumbling for words took too long; Lili moved on checking the next thing over. Asuka spied kitchenware to her left. She wandered rather than move with purpose, winding her way without worry. Rifling through the pans she grabbed what called to her.

She spun a wide set thing whose steel mirrored her pondering in its pan. The handle was basic, sturdy, good. It carried a plain grace, a thing that knew what it was. She smiled. Looking around, there were a few grandmas downwind of her. Carefully she gave it a few swings; balanced weight too.  Playful laughter burned her ears; the grannies had glanced her way. Her face flushed and she scurried to find Lili, setting free a giggle at herself.

When they finally left she found herself loaded with their bags. Really, both were almost entirely for Lili. The frying pan she’d picked was drowned in a bright candy sea. Never in her entire life had she imagined becoming a spectacle at a cash register. Lili’s self-assuredness grew to confidence; embarrassment wasn’t in her dictionary. Asuka stood pretending they didn’t know each other when the clerk rang them up, trying to keep cool. But not a minute later she felt a squeeze on her arm, Lili gesturing toward the bags, wearing a winner’s smile. ‘We must agree you possess…a strength I do not.’ She’d said. Asuka sighed and found she couldn’t resist. It didn’t stop her grumbling and shoving at least one in Lili’s hand though.

She set their steady pace crossing the bridge again. This time Lili wasn’t all but on top of her ass, yet she didn’t stray. Asuka glanced up putting out an arm to stop her. Rainbow lights flashed then danced across their faces.

“I pass by this guy whenever I’m out y’know. Sometimes I tell myself his smile looks goofy but, the colors are beautiful. Then I might smile too.”

The Glico Man posed arms raised in triumph mid running stride. Behind his thick bold lines a sunny day at the track curving into Osaka’s skyline framed a massive rectangle. She stepped back, watching. Lili stared at him, holding her chin, studying. She didn’t look at Asuka as she cocked her head. The curves and angles of her face were outlined in a glow that softened the shadows.

“I suppose I do see why. There’s an aesthetic bringing every element together.”

Asuka’s stare lingered gently, foolishly, opening a smile holding an ember of her heart. She drank her in, unnoticed with nothing to rip them away. A feeling washed over her the way mist in summer snapped sleep from one’s eyes. Again she took Lili’s hand guiding her across the bridge.

“Hey! I was still looking.”

“We can come back whenever. There’s more around before the adult places open up.”

She tried not looking at her, and hoped the heat from her hands would be mistaken for the weather. They wandered keeping off the alleys and anywhere crowd thick. Every once in a while Lili’s nerves made them huddle under an awning. Asuka’s grip slid to her fingers, squeezing gently whenever the street thinned enough. She wanted an answer, tried guessing why she bothered as they walked. Why not let her go untethered? In the end she had nothing. The thought of leaving her helpless just felt wrong. If there was anything Asuka was ever gonna do, it’d be not sinking lower. Dad had taught her better. And such a fact meant she was more considerate. For some reason Lili never pulled away either.

She watched her so busy taking in whatever they saw that for once Lili wanted answers from her.  They found a rhythm. They’d walk silently until Asuka felt her arm tugged. Then she’d nod enduring the waterfall of precise questions and give a matter-of-fact answer. If they passed a food stall they didn’t leave till they each got something. If it went with sauces, Lili wasn’t satisfied unless she asked to try them one by one. More than a few cooks threw Asuka a glare or surprised stare. She’d smile her apology and pretended nothing mattered except eating as much as possible. Whenever they slapped a wad of bills from Lili’s designer wallet, all was forgiven. The more they went on the longer she gave her tour speech bite sized memories or rumors. A place could never stay a place- it was a feeling understood. Still, there were too many people around for Lili’s nervousness to go away.

“C’mon I’ll get us outta here.”

She brought them to the arcade she’d stuck herself in before the Kempo bastard appeared. Every other day after school Asuka would sink a few hundred yen trying anything new before falling back on her favorites. Whenever she wasn’t scheduled for teaching at the dojo, time meant nothing unless Dad showed up and dragged her home. Then she’d get an earful. She grinned. It’d been worth it anyway. The neon sign stood small as ever. Most of the posters plastering the entrance walls were alien to her. Some she remembered by shape only; as forgettable now as they were for the girl who’d once made a home here.  The white walls and checkerboard linoleum floor tricked people into thinking the rows of glittering cabinets were infinite. Half the customers were kids their age or younger. Planted at the fighting games like dried gum under a desk were the same grown men she remembered practically living there. She closed her eyes, and breathed in, at ease.

“What is this?”

“Not even an arcade? This is starting to feel like a joke. You play video or claw type games here. This place’s my favorite but I haven’t come in a while.”

The words were barely out her mouth before Lili dragged them along. A huge neon lit pad on the floor for a dancing game lay at their feet. Techno music banging from the cabinet thumped her chest as a tutorial played itself on the screen. She cocked her head.

“Really?”

Lili brushed back her bangs and cleared her throat.

“Asuka Kazama. I challenge you at a duel of dance!”

“Pft. You’re ridiculous. Don’t cry when you lose!”

They piled their bags against the wall; Asuka rolled her short sleeves further back. She started stretching against the rail fencing in the game cabinet and Lili joined her.

“Father sent me to ballet lessons I’ll have you know.”

“Is everything you have always because of ‘Daddy’?” Asuka taunted.

Lili rushed the stage, punching in a song and readying herself. She stood hands on hips as the bass started pulsing. Asuka snorted, crossing her arms.  Then she watched her move.

Her body all but glided, twirling from direction arrow to direction arrow effortlessly. Her long legs couldn’t take an instant off her speed; Asuka’s brow rose hearing the stage creak. Sometimes, when studying for weaknesses, a flash of Lili’s thigh might catch her eye. Or she’d linger on the flutter as her freed hair spun. Above all else was her face; the shit eating grin wiped from existence. And in its place the hard set of her jaw, a knit brow, and intense gaze.  She found the rhythm and matched it, outpaced it before it might outpace her. What Lili would call grace wrapped her in pure determination.

When the last note faded Lili wiped her neck with a handkerchief. She turned smiling that little self-assured smile; Asuka hummed. Then she made herself scoff, they weren’t alike.

“Do your worst.” Lili chirped.

“Shaddup.”

Asuka jostled her and straightened her shirt. She glanced at the screen; a new high score. She sucked her teeth. Breathe. Picking a song was easy, something fast but steady. Just right to make her heart race through her skin. A guitar strummed; the world narrowed to this moment. One step at a time, that’s all she needed. The notes rushed forward for her to stomp and chase. Sweat prickled her nape but she didn’t lose breath. Guitar riffs wailed rushing her as the arrows raced into each other. Her limbs became a storm; the wind curved softening her blows. She threw herself harder, hit each note faster.

Then her foot slammed through one of the pads like a hammer through a paper screen. Behind or in front she heard a crash. Though it slowed her the wind couldn’t keep her from falling- she felt herself grabbed. She glanced down. A centimeter or two right and her ankle would be finished. Lili sighed in what felt weird calling relief as she pulled her up.

“I suppose we shall call a draw.”

 One fat stack of cash later and the owner whistled on his way to calling a repairman. Her head still rang from panic and insults. They stood on the street, nothing but the summer heat to fog their embarrassment.

“This sucks.”

“You Kazamas and your sheer strength.” Lili sighed.

Asuka turned her head slowly, glaring.

“Don’t lump me in with that stupid dickhead.”

“Never. I find that insulting.” Lili scoffed, all softness gone.

Asuka’s face widened in surprise, her smile was gentle.

“Thanks.”

“…Ahem…You are welcome.”

She watched her move to fix her hair but Asuka’s hand got there faster. Carefully she tucked loose strands behind Lili’s right ear.  The stunned blush on Lili’s face made her stomach flip.

“Dad asked me to get some groceries before we’re home.”

“Perhaps this time you’ll save us both the spectacle of collapsing property.”

Lili laughed, full of mockery and teasing that came up short at the edges. It felt as if laughing would paint over her blush with anything else.

“Will you drop it?! This is why you’re annoying.”

“What does a market look like by the way?”

“Arrrghh!”

Passing under the Kuromon banner Asuka stood just to breathe it in. Fried food, flowers, loud signs, fruits, seafood, store clerks, people- this was Osaka. Her city. This time Lili glanced around and went ahead, strutting like a swan. Asuka cocked her head.

“Let us be on our way. Unless you’d prefer going hungry tonight I presume.”

“I don’t think so…” Asuka smirked.

They fell into another pattern at her lead; she’d hover around what she wanted, working over to the most expensive cut. After a few minutes Lili would find her and question what made that one special, did Asuka get it often, and on and on.  She’d sigh or pretend getting lost in her thoughts. Then she’d throw in a version of “We’ve been too broke for that; wanna try it with me?” or “Duh! Get it all the time, never had it before huh?” reminding her Dad must’ve shortchanged her allowance. Lili would pull out her wallet gasping and crying “That won’t do!” then buy whatever Asuka picked.

In this way, remembering they’d each have to carry a bag home, they bought everything off the top shelf. When they made it home she grinned until her face hurt and Dad stood stunned silent. He gave her ear a twist behind Lili’s back as she shared ‘their wonderful adventure’, stopping when Asuka winced.

“Don’t trick people.” He grumbled, whispering.

Then he saw the premium tuna cuts and marbled beef.

“Well, it can be harmless here and there.”

Asuka snickered into her wrist. Lili read it as a muffled cough, insisting they serve a hearty stew at dinner to ‘keep from feeling ill’. That night and many nights after they ate like kings.

She gripped the ends and tightened her headband. Her hakama was cinched just right as she checked the ties one last time. She straightened her gi collar, it’d picked up the laundry smell from her closet since she’d quit teaching; breathe in then out. Behind her Lili finished stretching, smirking. Her catlike stare couldn’t fog the pure clarity of Asuka’s mind. Strength surged filling her out as it coursed through her muscles, barely held by her smile. Her body had healed. Out of habit she rolled her right shoulder as they stood five paces apart.

“Are you prepared to be humiliated Asuka Kazama?”

“Just show me what you’ve got. I won’t make it hurt too bad.”

“You’ve made me wait long enough.”

Her heart jumped seeing that smile widen. It toyed with her. Her face went hot.

‘Exciting…’

“Let’s go, moron.”

They readied, the quiet held itself tight.

Lili’s kick was slapped away as Asuka closed distance, striking her with a left punch. To her surprise Lili turned with the blow, but even when it glanced, Asuka leaned into a right. That one connected and she wasn’t about to let her breathe; lunging threw her elbow forward, aiming for the jaw. In the move to dodge Lili narrowly escaped but glanced again on her scalp as she ducked low. A yelp cut her ears. She felt her balance waver in the feedback. Asuka stepped into her weight, bringing down her elbow at the blink of an eye. A certain hit- she met empty air.

Barely, just barely, Lili had rolled out the way. A streak of blood stained the back of her hand as Lili wiped her lips. Her already pale face almost dazzled all sweaty as she was. Asuka watched her panting, bent on one knee and big eyed. She watched her and washed in nothing but the clarity of this moment reset her stance.

“Et merde…” Lili sighed.

Asuka didn’t move.

‘That’s right you’re coming to me.’

She knew, and Lili knew she knew. Those glaring eyes calculated, hating how every option ran toward the same end. The distance begged to be closed or they’d get nowhere. Still a grin split Lili’s mouth flashing crimson teeth like a dog tasting raw meat. She felt her heart race. One heartbeat and she saw her launch from a cartwheel into the flight of slamming her heel on Asuka’s nose. No time to think! She sidestepped, grabbing Lili’s shin and tossing her behind. Riding that momentum into another roll, she recovered raining a waterfall of strikes. Most of them Asuka slapped away or dodged but soon her sides stung. Knocking Lili’s fist aside with her forearm she twisted and spun sending a back heeled kick flying up.

Her foot crashed missing Lili’s temple by centimeters. The impact shook her bones; it was enough to send Lili tumbling down. She crumpled on her side, groaning loud enough to wake the dead. Asuka felt herself huffing and shut her eyes. A good pause forced her to center again. The hairs on her nape relaxed.

Grunting and stirring Lili came back to life one limb twitch at a time. Somehow she found the strength to wobble into standing. A gleam shined under her disheveled blonde hair, an animal instinct. Their eyes met in an instant. Asuka leaned back; the strike scraped the tip of her chin. On reflex she shoved Lili aside with both palms flat against her chest. Deflated, Lili lay sprawled on the floor, a heap of sweat, loose hair, hard breathing, and biting shame. Frozen, it took a chill up her spine for Asuka to unclench. Several beats passed silently. She laughed; lightning storming through her veins. An adrenaline rampage withered, hollowing her into a drum pounding thunder in her chest to keep her standing. It was a thrill. It was joy. It was the world.  Her laugher roared, bursting like playful rain.  

Coughing and wincing Lili flipped herself onto her stomach. She curled inside the shape of Asuka’s towering shadow. She crouched and Lili’s stare followed. Reaching over she tilted Lili’s chin.

“You lost ‘cuz you think too much.”

She chuckled at her squinting eyes.

“Laugh at my failure would you…”     

Asuka gave her an amused smirk. She pulled her hand away. The world felt so light and airy with another whirlwind behind them.

“It’s my win but you can come at me any time.”

Again Lili sighed and rolled on her back. She started to pout but the longer it went the more it fizzled. Instead her brow scrunched. ‘Why are you better than me?’ it asked. And she pressed her answers in her mouth. She stood, reaching for her water bottle on the sidelines.

“Where…where did I overthink?”

“Better question is where you didn’t.” The water was still cold, liquid smooth.

Silence. She pressed.

“You waited before dodging, weighing where to go. You hesitated planning your approach when I gave you room. You were so focused on how you’d overwhelm me with your hits that you forgot paying attention to my tells.”

Lili draped her arm over her face. From under it Asuka saw her lips purse.

“…You almost got my chin though. It’s obvious you can move faster than before. And you can lean into a punch now.”

More silence. She started wiping off with her towel even if she didn’t need it as much. When she finished on her hairline Lili was staring at her. Those blue grey eyes were hard; the way a river stone is hard and smooth, anchoring itself against touch. Reassuring but muddied; it left a tingle in Asuka’s brain.

“The Mishimas could come take you whenever they please. Your records are child’s play for them to trace, for Jin Kazama.”

Asuka went stiff; her brow narrowed as if it were a gear turning through rust. Her cold gaze betrayed a drop of fear. She clenched her fist in place of a steady heart.

“He is blood related to you. And his mother Jun is alive, though I have no way of knowing if he’s realized. I’m not sure your father knows either. If Ms. Jun has plans I believe she will track down her son.  Depending on his thirst for war and schemes he may learn about you and grab you to prevent her from asking your help. He can turn you into a bargaining piece. Perhaps Kazuya Mishima will come to a similar conclusion and take you first instead. He was looking into the Kazama Clan after all. It wouldn’t be wrong to assume he knows of your family’s…innate gifts.”

‘Gifts?’

Asuka couldn’t feel her clenched fingers anymore. Her knuckles were fit to split the skin.

“…That fucking moron…and you think I’d just let him take me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” Lili snorted.

“Then what do you get out of it? Why are you here?”

Lili sighed crossing her arms over her forehead. She stared into the ceiling.

“It’d be awful if you faced that devil alone, no?”

“…What?”

She backpedaled when Lili sprung to her feet.

“Now I’m afraid I must retire and bathe before this filth turns my stomach.”

“Hey wait, wait tell me more!”

But her long legs carried her from Asuka’s reach before her brain understood the weight of what sat on it. This was as far as she’d get today. Sucking her teeth, every hair on her body stood. Alone and aching she stomped around; a vicious cracking yell scattered her frustration. Then as she caught her breath, its echo faded in the hollow of her chest. She felt exhausted. Her will formed rods that kept her legs from sinking.

When she gathered her things she stopped suddenly. Leaning against the exit, she gripped the towel slung around her neck. Her eyes widened.

‘Does she like me?’

Every morning after they met for practice, took turns in the bath, ate a simple breakfast while making lunch, then they were off to school. Her bike still sat battered in the yard and Lili gave her the peace of not mentioning it. But now, sometimes, Asuka found herself giving it a glance. One tire pump here, a new chain, new brakes, some replaced bolts, and it’d be ready for new paint. She should probably replace the rubber on the grips too, or trim where it frayed. There were a million, million ideas.

At lunch the day they’d sparred, people of course noticed the split on Lili’s lip. Despite how Asuka had made her stay still to press some ice and rub a bit of petroleum jelly, the red and purple mark read as bright as a road work sign. Of course Asuka had apologized, scratching her lowered head and looking her in the eye. Lili chuckled at her. As if it had been a game or nothing at all. ‘Now we’ve each landed a blow on the other haven’t we?’

Asuka couldn’t claim to understand that girl, but it made a sort of sense. They were finally even at something.

She learned many things day by day. While not a genius Lili was a fast learner, diligent as much as she was disciplined. Whatever she did was finished almost as quick as it started with calculated execution. Lateness cut into time for ‘the simple pleasures.’ Asuka had never seen one person drink tea like it replaced water. Despite appearances she wasn’t well read, only keeping up enough to, ‘please my Father’s expectations.’ Yet those put her ahead of most people, and she thought nothing was worse than falling behind, or the idea she might.

At training her moves were explosive when left to herself. There was always more to perfect, another river to cross until her muscle memory submitted. When given a form for practice, she talked of strategies as she shuffled it into her arsenal. No matter the situation, she’d pull some technique or the theory of one out her ass. She had to be motivated with more praise than even the mildest critique or else she turned moody at best, bitchy otherwise. The longer she spent encouraging Lili (at times making Asuka tear at her own hair) the faster something dawned on her.

Maybe it wasn’t that Lili enjoyed toying with people so much as she wanted to never stop moving. There had to be another problem to solve, another scheme, another fun thing to start- enough so that they were never bogged down sharing their feelings. She weaved between teasing, sass, or halfhearted sulking. Anything more earned silence. And the unreadable wall formed in her expressions. Well, even when it made Asuka gnash her teeth this was about patience. Like Dad said.     

It wasn’t that Lili couldn’t remember moves or plan either; she just couldn’t get out her own head when faced with being hit. The possibility didn’t scare her she’d said, and for once Asuka agreed. She could counter Lili again and again, bruise her by occasional accident. Lili would trip over herself if that’s what it took to attack. Nothing dented whatever instinct drove that craving to win. She knew that’s what it was; a person couldn’t abandon themselves unless the rest of the world fell away. Few things matched the living lightning found in a fight.

They were sat on a day off school sipping water and drenched in the sweat of another practice.

“Unacceptable. Absolutely unacceptable! I should have gotten you when I went from low high jabbing to Matterhorn kick. It was the perfect cover.”

“The ‘unacceptable’ thing is you’re still using that. You’re wide open before anything lands.”

“Hush! I gave it a tremendous level of style. Who expects a rising kick with both legs from the ground? There’s an element of surprise worth the effort.”

Asuka squinted then shrugged. Their session replayed in her mind.  This time there’d been no cartwheels or insane flips. There’d been jabs, lots of jabs from every direction pushing Asuka’s reflex but never breaking it; the kicks she answered with her own as they missed each other by a hair. If she couldn’t dodge, she made sure Lili collided against the hardest bones. Her knees and elbows were wearing off from numbing pins and needles. Lili was fast; if only her battle sense could match pace.  Even a sweep kick forced her to adapt on the fly if it didn’t toss her outright. She took a long sip. Whenever Asuka had an answer for one method that moron fell back on what she best knew worked. That routine made her predictable.

Wait…predicable?

“Hey, how long have you been fighting again?”

“Why does that matter?”

Asuka flicked her forehead. Lili yelped and scowled.

“You want help then answer me.”

“…A year, if you must know.”

Instantly Asuka’s water sprayed from her mouth mid drink.

“A year?! And you ran to fight in two tournaments. Is your head on right?!”

“I fail at seeing the problem here. I can guard, I can attack, I train rigorously- there’s no reason I should be denied a test of my skills the same as anyone else.”

“That’s not even…you…I can’t believe this.”

“How many years do you have under your belt?” Lili snapped.

She stared at her in disbelief, gripping her water bottle to make sure this was real. The look on Lili’s face fell and a blush like a wave rose in its place. Neither said anything as they stared into space hugging their knees. Loud traffic revved through the walls. Another beat of gathered silence.

Asuka giggled.

“Don’t laugh.”

She laughed. Her mouth quivered as she set the bottle down. She laughed so hard her chest felt ready to cave in. Asuka tipped over collapsing at Lili’s side, pedal kicking her feet as she clutched her stomach.

“I’m not an idiot! Stop that!”

Softly, playfully, Lili whacked her everywhere demanding Asuka stay still. But not a minute passed before they were piled together roaring with laughter. She sat up.

“No wonder then why you keep being an easy read. You aren’t confident in your style!”

Again Lili scowled.

“You’re suggesting I lack experience.”

A loaded statement already, a question; Asuka groaned. Saying yes would have them bickering until the point ran away.

“What I mean is no one’s a master so quickly. Right now what I’d expect is someone comfortable in the basics. They’ve only started putting a foundation together for what they know and how they’ll use it. What school are you studying under?”

“I’m self-taught of course.” Lili said flipping her bangs and smirking.

Asuka buried her face in her hands.

“Forget feeling comfortable in the basics; you’re stuck at making shit up!”

“Such an accusation is ridiculous-“

“We’re doing you over. From the beginning.”

“This is unfair-“

“You can keep your crazy style. But since you wanna learn my school we do things my way when I think we should. Otherwise you’re not gonna learn a damn thing. You’ll never get any better.”

A growl rumbled her words as she took her hands off Lili’s cheeks, leaning over her. She was stared at as if she’d shot her; being stunned was the best way of getting through the concrete wall Lili had in place of a skull. They stared each other down. Asuka refused to budge her scowl a centimeter. Finally, Lili ‘Hmph’d and looked at the floor.

On their off days they started jogging around the block, staying in the quiet parts. After a rest when that was done they switched to spotting each other’s workouts and stretching. Each week Asuka would ask Lili to demonstrate a move from her flashy toolkit. That became the assignment she worked on until the next week. Lili would show the result of her drills by combining it with last week’s move; only then would Asuka teach her a complimenting Kazama technique.

At class Asuka never said so, but Lili’s notes started covering whatever went over her head. She never missed homework again; getting a test back now meant she got to wear her own smug grin. Not one teacher kept from throwing her a confused glare. Most kept their mouths shut. In their study sessions, Asuka either understood within Lili’s schedule, or else it got carried over to next time and not a second earlier. Even so, there always came a tease if she needed more than one explanation. Lili knew her way around cocky smirks and looking down her nose. It’d piss Asuka off more than it always had, if this time she didn’t need what the cat dragged in. Nothing could disturb Lili’s bubble baths, which she insisted on and Dad allowed so long as she used the tub last. She insisted on writing with fountain pens because ‘they’re mature don’t you agree?’ and easily color coded everything. Once, flipping through a notebook Lili lent her, she stopped dead at the table.

Page after page lay covered in sketches from top to bottom. The scenes included nature, random household objects, and an alley here and there. But those were just the scrap pages. Every picture before and after them showed Asuka. Some were labeled as ‘Her smile’ or ‘After today’s training’. Some were close ups of different expressions paired with figure studies in everyday poses. Did Asuka really look tough and handsome this much? There were the hard angles of her just before she got mad, the obvious confusion and wonder when she had to think. The carefree joy or satisfaction in her smiles, smirks, and grins. The cocky pride whenever she felt in control. The aimless frustration when she showed sadness. That one made her wince.

Each detail touched her greater than the last. Her heartbeats made a home in her throat when she saw their hands holding one another. She froze in her seat.

“Put that down this instant!”

She didn’t fight it when in a heartbeat Lili leapt up and snatched the book. Asuka chuckled nervously, no not nervous, she didn’t know why. She didn’t know what she was saying.

“If you keep drawing like that people will think you’re gay.”

Lili slammed the book closed, glaring. Then Asuka gasped softly; Lili’s lips were trembling, the entirety of her face grappling against bursting into tears. She watched her swallow. Then without a word she gathered all her stuff and stormed off. Asuka wanted to give chase, to throw any excuses but that’s exactly what they’d be, excuses. The air felt thick; a sand pit that’d drown her if she struggled. So she sat there, suddenly very small.

When Dad came home that night after visiting a friend, she told him Lili was too tired for dinner. She didn’t think of it as a lie; anger and sadness knew about killing anything that made you alive.

“You’ve been working her hard like you’ve always done when I needed you teaching. I’ll fix her a plate and you take it up, alright.”

“I guess…” She stirred her miso broth absentmindedly.

Asuka found her room door opened a crack with only her lamp light on. She balanced the food and went to knock- Lili started speaking, soft and hoarse. She must’ve been crying. Maybe Asuka shouldn’t have, but she stood, listening.

“I won’t be returning home Sebastian…of course I thought about it. No, a De Rochefort is not a coward! Spare me the thought…I’d rather die if so. No I don’t need you staying with me. Not yet at least. This is no pain or challenge I cannot handle. Oh but, well, thank you for your words. Yes, good night.”

She heard the thump of a phone on cloth. Lili spoke louder to herself, voice cracked.

“Why God, of all the people in the world why this one?”

Well she wasn’t gonna let her talk like Asuka wasn’t there. She gave the door a push with her foot.

“Yo, brought ya something.”

Lili stayed face down in the futon; her face lost in her pillow and under her hair. She groaned.

“Oh leave me alone you brute.”

“I’m sorry. It wasn’t serious.”

“…If it isn’t serious then why are you apologizing?”

Again Asuka went numbed. She had nothing but her fists when someone stuck their fingers in her own wounds. What was she supposed to do here, hit her? Over what, being mad at Asuka getting her to cry? It was stupid. She was stupid. But she wasn’t, she’d done a stupid thing. She didn’t go around living so that everyone else got inconvenienced. Saying nothing she cleared space and set dinner on her desk.

Her body tingled, restless, her blood vibrating her veins. The shapes of her room didn’t register. She kept herself together as she stepped out and down the stairs. Her mind was blank. She stepped inside the dojo not caring about having her pajamas on. She rushed past the wall sign stopping at the center of the hall. And she trained. The forms were muscle memory, all routine. Safe. They didn’t ask anything except that her body keeps up. In the middle of stumbling some lift kicks she saw Dad watching. He looked more patient with her than she deserved.

“Everything alright?”

“I can handle myself.”

“Sure you can, kicking off center like that.”

She narrowed her eyes. He shrugged and made his way over.

“I’ll observe. Take it from the top.”

A crack called gratitude broke her frenzy.

Lili wouldn’t speak to her. Day after day they still met for morning practice, but did their work in separate corners. Dinner was spent taking turns talking to Dad as they ate in a race to not finish together. He threw Asuka a look sometimes in between but held whatever he could’ve said. She read an understanding on his face. This was their problem. Breakfast was cold silence without him; a performance where they tried everything stupid or practical to not make eye contact. The study sessions stopped. She tried giving a sign to ask about it. Lili pretended she didn’t exist.

The next week she got back a failed test, a red thirty two took up a huge corner so anyone could see. Her math teacher adjusted his glasses, condescending down to his walk. He let her stew in failure as she curled against her desk. Her failure, again. The rumor flies picked her clean with the feel of their stares.

At lunch Lili did stay near her, but ‘near’ became moving her desk six meters apart facing away. Not really sitting with anyone else and not a message she couldn’t read either. It made her collar itch. Try as she might there’d be no way she could approach without causing a scene. Burying herself in her food and keeping quiet became the new routine. Once after a few days of this, Ayako and her goons saw opportunity. Lili glared at them as if she were a knife, like she might snap them as easy as a twig. It gave Asuka hope.

Hope? Why was she letting this matter the way it did? If Lili, the nail sticking her ass whenever she appeared, finally stopped annoying her then how was this bad? It was stupid.

‘I did a stupid thing.’

That was the reason; it had to be.

‘I hurt someone just because.’

The truth, then, cut sharper than everyone else’s lies.

On their off days Asuka started solo training, putting wherever her sulking half was out of mind. The basics were forever there. Shadow fights imagining opponents carried a real challenge. There was always more to try, more to perfect, a feeling of faster or stronger. She started with one random punk then added them in twos. She dodged; swept their legs, whipped their momentum around until they opened for punches. Kicks were a whirlwind leaving rippling winds in her wake, force whistling as it cleaved the air. Her foot bounced whenever she launched herself high; her body rocketing along the flight she’d set herself. As if she switched from floating into a pebble flying from a slingshot. The tip of her nose brushed the ceiling. A jolt of panic fried her; she killed it and tucked into a roll as she fell.

What the hell was this?

Her skin turned hot where the wind had touched it. Not a burn or ripping of blood; this time it passed over her like hands of sunlight. Under the summer heat it breathed into her as if the first clear day of spring. She lifted her head, standing, comforted by its embrace. All her worries blew, carried on the breeze. Then being the wind it passed and settled faster than it arrived. Every part of her felt light. Clenching her fist, she smirked. Whatever this was, it seemed ready to help. And that meant…

‘Time for a test!’

“I’m headin’ out!”

“Be back before nightfall.” Dad called as she slipped on her shoes.

“I know.”

Lili came down the stairs minding her business. Had Asuka left a second earlier she would have missed the slightest curious glance thrown at her. But that was it before Lili disappeared into the kitchen. Her chest jumped. Whatever, she could think about that later.

The sky stretched clear forever with the sun hanging gold smack in the center. People were a guarantee. Today she didn’t run, stuffing her hands in the pockets of her shorts and drinking in the day. People started crowding as she hit the main avenues; no one paid her any attention. Even if someone did, they’d see a friendly smile not the hunger leashed in her eyes. She kept her ears sharp ignoring any chatter; she wanted shouting. She wanted action. Asuka waited and walked and waited. Then she crossed into Shinsekai. A wolfish grin twisted her mouth.

In the middle of a shopping square some boys were in each other’s faces, seven altogether by her count. Lined up and shouting enough to spit they’d clash at the drop of a hat. Immediately she broke into a run. Someone at the front raised his fist; she jumped, flipped, and tucked in the air.

“Hold it right there!”

Scattering like bugs they yelled in surprise and cleared some space. Her effortless, cool landing left them speechless. When she stood she gave them a smile; camera, lights, action! Justice!

“Who the hell- oh not you again!”

“Ms. Asuka? Crap, crap, crap!”

Dusting off her hands Asuka shook her head. One gang she recognized not as the guys who helped her home, but a separate group she’d left in pieces before them. The others made her right eye twitch to remember. They’d get theirs as many times as it took till they learned their lesson.

“I’m disappointed. Haven’t I already told ya off? No fighting! No fighting where people are either. What if you dragged some grandma into your mess or busted down a shop? You can’t go around doing that.”

The boys who she thought knew better bowed their heads; someone she assumed was a new member had his head forced down by a senior.

“We’re deeply sorry Ms. Asuka. For sure, for sure we won’t lift a finger!”

“Don’t apologize to me. Just play nice like I ask.”

The leader guy with slicked back hair, his nose had healed crooked after its visit with her fist, got right in her face.

“I’m not like these pussies you little bitch. Try harder. We can go right now.”

Asuka sighed. His gang glanced at each other, afraid, backing him up anyway.

“If that’s true you wouldn’t bother talking. But you brought me on yourself!”

Roaring he threw out punches she knocked away, lunging himself in pursuit until she glanced the wobble of his left leg. Now! She went low sweeping him so fast it wasn’t a question of waiting for his fall, he just hit the ground. One moment he was a body under gravity, then the shutter on a camera, and he laid a groaning wreck. Her kicks would’ve gone off course as she reined them in within an instant. Her rhythm needed a new tempo. Her limbs were free and her muscles flowy, like how paper streamers became part of a breeze.

‘Amazing!’

Leader boy stumbled up as she flung her knee into his stomach. The wind wheezed from his lungs; her elbow drop swiveled his head with a thud. In that same second she wheeled around and with a single kick slammed him into the pavement. His gang threw themselves out the way. A tailwind curled from the force of her leg, cracking the concrete of a building behind them. The crash vibrated for longest blip in their lives.

At her feet leader boy made no sound. She saw the shallow rise and fall of his back; at least he was still alive. His friends took a look at him, then back to her, and back to him. Without build up their screams exploded; each one bundled into shrieking fear. They sprint away white as ghosts, clinging to any value they saw left in living.

She breathed in. She exhaled, giddy. Her mind blanked.

Asuka turned around and found the remaining boys gawking. Stunned until not only had they forgotten words, their eyeballs were gonna pop out their sockets. Her movement carried more energy than she knew what to do with. She could fly around the sky till the Earth itself was just a blue ball. Say something, anything to come down again!

“So, like I was saying! If you guys wanna be good then make nice with each other. Cuz’ if you don’t…”

She rested her foot on leader boy. Finally he groaned.

The boys watched, their mouths hanging open. Someone cried out,

“If we behave enough can we feel your boobs?”

Sailing in midair, everyone placed bets on how long till he came down.

Another morning at training she finished early and watched Lili work. Bit by bit she started leaving the simple behind. She weaved in and out of jabs and kicks, and backflips into stomps. She threw herself twisting into a cartwheel that became a flip. Down went her foot preparing a heel drop; Asuka remembered the hawks diving for fish on one of Dad’s favorite nature shows. Lili landed safe doing a split. Her sweaty face turned red steadying her breathing. A picture of focus came to Asuka’s mind.

She sat cross legged and watched, resting her chin on her hand as Lili got up. Then the routine reset. The forceful flurry of Sunrise Sunset’s striking twirled into a somersault that brought Lili low against the floor. When Asuka asked her about the silly name Lili had scoffed, ‘because I’m hitting high then low obviously.’ Of course, she angled herself, sticking her legs together and launching high into Matterhorn. Sweat splattered off Lili’s brow; her grimace carried the strain holding her muscles in place. Practicing or on the street under chaos, they earned the same effort. Tired, Lili finally flopped on her back.

“You’re not so bad at this, y’know.”

No response. Lili stared at the ceiling catching her breath. Reaching to undo the bun her blonde hair spilled around her slender neck. Her heart shaped face looked outlined by a gold brush. Her pink bow shape lips parted for sweet air, not pursed or confusing Asuka like she knew everything in the universe. Lili was so, normal. Normally pretty. Asuka tried imagining her real smile.

“I’m sorry, Lili.”

The spell broke; they stared into each other’s eyes. And for the first time, joy and joy alone bloomed open across all Lili was.

‘Wait a minute. This is my first time saying her name!’

Lili giggled playfully, honestly, waking herself from a bad dream and relieved. She sat up.

“My, you’re in agony after trampling a beautiful flower.”

“Don’t push it.”

Lili chuckled.

The next day off Asuka stepped out the bank. She walked smiling for herself alone. It was time to fix her bike.

[annaskellington]

A Recounting of Phantom of the Opera: Middle East/European Tour

Hello everyone!

I had the opportunity to see Phantom of the Opera: Middle East Tour/European Tour 3 different times during its run in Lisbon and I’m here to do a review/recounting of everything I saw on the show that was different from normal and worth noting. This is a mixture of what I saw on stage and my opinions on it. You are valid to have your own opinions and if the show is coming to a city near you, I definitely recommend to check it out!

Keep in mind, this is a non-replica. Stephen Barlow is the director and Andrew Riley did the costumes and set design. I have only seen one other production of Phantom and it was the Italy run they did with Ramin Karimloo, also a non-replica, therefore I use it quite a bit in my comparisons (as well as the original) simply because it’s the only one I’ve seen live other than this one.

Extra details: The chandelier is in the audience instead of on stage. There are screens on the sides of the stage with the subtitles. On the first night, it only had the subtitles, but on the following nights, it also had a house-cam being livestream into those screens. There are two Portuguese members on the cast: Francisca Mendo – a ballerina and Lara Martins – Prima Donna. I mention them quite a lot since they were the main attraction of the performances.

The Phantom - Nadim Naaman

Christine - Georgia Wilkinson

Raoul - Dougie Carter

Prima Donna - Lara Martins

Auction House

There is only old man Raoul, the auctioneer and an ensemble member on stage - the one holding the items. The auctioneer is pointing at the audience when the items are being bided which makes it slightly awkward when you look at where he’s pointing and it is just random audience members. Seeing old man Raoul by himself is also weird for some reason. Overall, the lack of people is really odd during this scene.  

Overtude

“A little illumination! Gentlemen!” and then the chandelier just lights its light bulbs and just stays like that for a long while. Nothing is happening. Then finally the curtains open and you see the Hannibal cast getting ready and into positions and then finally, Lara Martins starts singing.

Hannibal

On opening night there was a flub: Christine isn’t on the stage at all for most of Hannibal. When the managers start saying their lines of “Meg Giry, Madame Giry’s daughter, promising young dancer”, Meg starts dancing closer to Madame Giry and she hits the staff on the ground and asks “Christine Daae, where is she?” and Meg replies “I don’t know mama!” which leads to the “Daae? Curious name…”, but Christine only enters the stage much after.

However, on the following nights, it proceeded as normal with “Christine Daae, concentrate girl” to which Meg says “Christine, what’s the matter” and leads to “Daae? Curious name…”.

Think of Me (Carlotta)

When Carlotta is talking to the maestro, Madame Giry goes to talk with someone down from the orchestra which I found really fun. Then the thing that interrupts Carlotta is actually a bucket that falls on the left side. Carlotta throws herself on the ground and just lays face flat on the ground which made me laugh so much, everyone is fanning her and worrying about her. Then, when the ex-owner is leaving and usually would say “If you need me, I shall be in Frankfurt” instead he says “If you need me, I shall be in Alentejo” which got a huge laugh from everyone. Alentejo is an area of Portugal, very beautiful but not touristic at all, probably one of the two Portuguese cast members might be from that area. On opening night, the subtitles had the original line but on the following nights, it had been changed to the Alentejo version. Another big change is Madame Giry is acting much more caring of Phantom and his plans. That woman was giving a performance of a lifetime. When the managers are saying “A full house and we have to cancel”, Madame Giry says “Ler her sing for you” but no one listens to her and everyone is starting to leave as well as the managers, but she hits her staff on the ground and says “Monsieur!” and after a few moments of silence “She has been well taught”.

Think of Me

When Christine starts singing, she’s super shy and everyone starts leaving. All of the cast members start exiting the stage whilst complaining and being angry. When she gains courage, they all start coming back like holy shit, she can sing. They close the curtains behind her as she gets to the Raoul part and when Raoul says his lines, there’s a faint applause being heard and she starts bowing which caused the audience to applaud as well muffling Raoul’s part. This happened only on opening night, other nights the audience was quiet as you heard the fake clapping from the stage. But Raoul says his part like usual, the box he’s in is on ground level so you just see his little head peak out.

Angel of Music

“Rehearsals, always rehearsals” – I love that line from Meg Giry, on one of the nights Madame Giry rolled her eyes at Meg. Fast forward to when the phantom tells Christine to look at the mirror. It looked so spooky. Nadim had his hands on the glass and was really creepily moving his hands and face around. When Christine sings the part where she turns her back to the phantom and turns to the audience, Nadim flinched as well. He opens the mirror like a door and she steps inside.

Title song

It starts spinning and shows the other side of the circle is some stairs going down. When it starts, the phantom is at the bottom of the stairs and she’s at the top. He never really allures her or drags her, he just slowly convinces her to go down the stairs. At one point he’s in the bottom with a blue light and she’s at the top with a yellowish light to show their contrast. When it gets to the ensemble singing “He’s there, the Phantom of the Opera”, the stage rotates once more and turns fully blue. They enter the boat and the turn the smoke machines all the way up. Christine does her high notes sitting on the boat, which is definitely a choice, and goes to show it is prerecorded cause there is no way she would’ve been able to do the high notes sitting down. The Phantom also doesn’t really react to the high notes, he’s focused on rowing the damn boat. So, it comes across as the high notes are simply part of the song and not that he was able to almost wrench the high notes from her voice. He says half heartily “sing, my angel of music” because, again, he's not paying that much attention to her.

Music of the Night

Christine spends the beginning still sitting in the boat. At one point, the phantom grabs his music sheet book and hands it to her and convinces her to open it. She does and is like damn, this is actually kinda good. So, he grabs his cloak and lays it on the ground where she goes and sits whilst reading the book. At the end of the song, they just stare at each other and she leans in for a kiss, but he backs away and sings the last note of the song.

STYDI

He didn’t get that angry, at the beginning he does “throw” her to the other side of the lair where she hands up holding the wall for emotional support. He didn’t crawl around since there’s barely any space, he sings those lines just standing up and covering his face. At the end, he sits back at the piano bench and she hands him the mask and he quietly take it.

Bouquet Magical Lasso

The ballerinas are walking from stage left to stage right where the box 5 sits and they’re being really sneaky and scared going towards it. The first girl gets closer when, FNAF style, Bouquet jumps out and snatches her arm and holds it whilst singing the first few lines. He then steps out, after which Madame Giry arrives and as she says her lines she puts her cane in between them and they start wrestling it for some reason. I too would like to get my ass kicked by Madame Giry but it was weirdly violent for her character. You never see the Phantom and Christine returning.

Notes I/Prima Donna

As the song starts, one of the ensemble members comes on stage and starts sweeping the floor, I love it. When the managers are reading the notes, there are two ensemble members on stage, one of them is trying to take a peek at the newspaper and one of the managers gives it to him so he reads it with other cast member. Not sure why, but cute addition. Whilst the Phantom reads the note, the light inside Box 5 lights up and Madame Giry is always looking at it. When the note reads “leave Box 5 empty” the lights flicker causing Raoul to get closer to inspect. After they read the note, the managers start singing Prima Donna. When Carlotta says “Precious little ingenue”, Raoul goes in her direction to I don’t know, defend Christine or smack Carlotta. Raoul gets close to Box 5 and starts inspecting it whilst Madame Giry is trying to protect Raoul (and the Phantom I guess) and pay attention to the managers at the same time. Raoul eventually looks back and starts singing his lines alongside Madame Giry and Meg Giry, they are forming a little circle on the left. Eventually the rotating stage starts spinning and Carlotta starts walking on it whilst cast members are walking around. They then place some spiral stairs on stage that Carlotta climbs. Then randomly, as we near the end of the song, a pink background drops and petals start falling from the sky. It’s cute, but random, especially cause the ballerinas show up and start dancing but Prima Donna isn’t a diegetic song, the other characters aren’t meant to be hearing it, but maybe in this production Prima Donna is an actual song that they perform? I have no idea and if I think too hard, I’ll get a headache. I just know that when the Phantom says his last threat “So it is to be war between us” – both Madame Giry and Raoul look super spooked out and worries as they run off stage leaving Carlotta alone on stage. The curtains fall behind her and on opening night Lara got a standing ovation.

Poor fool

Carlotta doesn’t “pretend kiss” her husband. She’s doing her “Adieu” note when the husband shuts her up by banging his walking stick on the ground. Instead of kissing, they just snarl at each other. Later on, during “a toad, madame?”, one of the cast members brings the throat perfume/spray for Carlotta, like in the Italy Tour production which serves as an explanation to her sudden toad voice. “She’s singing to bring down the chandelier!” but the chandelier just flashes its lights, doesn’t shake around at all. When the managers are bringing the ballet, one of the cast members is getting a chair to take offstage but ends up in the middle of the ballerinas, so he does ballet with them and the chair is still in his arms, it was actually peak comedy. Also, Bouquet is the actual actor and he’s hanging there and you can see all the wires holding him up, you never see Phantom attacking him so when one of the managers turns to Madame Giry after she gives him the “I told you” eyes, whilst everyone is running and screaming, and says “It’s an accident, simply an accident!”, it actually could be.

All I Ask of You

Christine goes to the stairs and starts using them to go up which is super odd. I guess they’re meant to be a different staircase in the Opera but it’s definitely weird seeing her using the stairs that we just saw the Phantom using to go from the mirror to the lair and now she’s using to go from the theatre to the halfway point which is the rooftop. Which means if she went even higher on the stairs, she would end up…higher than the roof? They sing the first part of the prelude on the stairs. When Raoul says her name the first two times, Christine starts going down the stairs while holding Raoul’s hand, but then the Phantom says her name the third time and she gets really scared and runs through the door that is in the middle of the stairs. She’s gone and the stage starts spinning slowly and you see Raoul take out the box with the ring from his pocket and look at it, then you see him run through the door as well to join Christine. They sing their song on the very tight space that is the top of the dome and instead of kissing, during the instrumental part, Raoul goes on one knee and takes out the ring to propose. She’s super happy and jumping around whilst smiling and then they sing the final bit of the song and finally, at the end, they kiss.

All I Ask of You Reprise

The Phantom shows up and he’s on the lower half of the dome, sort of hard to explain but basically on the ledge of the dome. He sings the song and when Christine and Raoul are singing, Nadim says “No... Please Stop...” in a very painful way, I liked it. He was begging them to stop hurting him. Then he runs away and the curtain falls and the cast members are doing their bows when the chandelier starts flickering its lights and falls in a vertical line. I might be remembering this wrong, but it wasn’t that it was super fast, it was more the fact that it wasn’t slowing down that made me think like wow. But it falls and I would say that ends up maybe 3 meters of the ground, not low enough for people to stand up and touch it, but much lower than I was expecting.

Masquerade + Notes II

It’s set in this hall of mirrors which is quite cute. When Christine and Raoul are singing their part of “secret engagement”, there is a dancer in the middle doing a solo performance and everyone is looking. When she finishes dancing, they all start clapping and scare Christine. Immediately after, it is revealed that there were two ballerinas painted in gold hiding in plain sight holding the candles and they basically jump out of the wall spooking everyone and start dancing. The Red Death costume looks a lot more like the 2004 movie, he shows up on the mirror of the back wall and the wall moves towards the front of the stage before he starts singing. He just goes back through the mirror whilst there is smoke, no special effects really. They remain in the hall of mirror until the end of Twisted Every Way. Funny enough, when Christine sings “Stop it, I’ll drive myself mad!”, Raoul is the only one that gets her a chair and stays, the rest of them just leave. Also, before that, during Notes II, Madame Giry enters the scene with her back turned on the group and looking off stage really disquieted, we can assume the Phantom has just given her the note and when the Phantom is talking about Christine in the note “No doubt she’ll do her best…”, she tries to go to Raoul who has his back turned on her but all of the cast on stage block her path and form a circle around her, really menacing.

Don Juan rehearsal

On opening night there was a bit of a failure on the production team as you could hear in the background them moving the set around. Usually you hear it only faintly, but in this scene, they were switching the hall of mirrors for the stairs with the rooftop and you could hear the sets being moved around. One of the cast members even looks off stage when it gets very loud. On other nights it is not as noticeable. For some reason, when Madame Giry enters the stage alongside the chorus, she brings this stick with a lamp (sidenote: on the second viewing, it was someone else that brough the stick with the lamp, unsure of what happened there). It adds to the ambience. When she says “Can you be certain of that?”, the light starts flickering and they all look scared at it. Also, it takes a lot longer for the piano to start playing by itself. After Piangi fails “those who tangle with Don Juan” for the last time, it takes half a minute for the piano to start playing. During this period, you hear Piangi say “I’m doing my best, but I don’t understand” to which Carlotta replies “Don’t listen to them, Carlo”, right after you hear Madame Giry say “You sang it quite beautifully mademoiselle, I’m sure it will do more than justice to the role” and Piangi says “it is no beauty! No music!” and finally the candles on the piano burst creating smoke and the chorus all raise their music sheets absolutely shaking in their boots and sing the lines correctly. It ended up being more funny than spooky, but the Madame Giry light flickering did add an extra flair.

Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again

Yet again, on her way to the rooftop, Christine uses the same stairs of the title track. She uses the door in the middle to access the rooftop but instead of being at the top of the dome where she and Raoul sang All I Ask of You, she is on the ledge where the Phantom sang the reprise. It’s definitely weird that she sings this song on the rooftop and not on the cemetery, doesn’t look like she’s singing about her father at all. But there is some fake snow falling so I’ll take my wins where I can. Trigger warning: suicide. However, when she gets to the ledge, she goes to the very edge and starts looking down almost like she wanted to throw herself off it? In the Italy Tour, they also had Christine doing this but right before All I Ask of You. What is their obsession with having Christine wanting to end her life? It’s a tad weird. Georgia sang it beautifully though.

Wandering Child

The Phantom shows up on the top of the dome, so their positions are switched from what they were in All I Ask of You. Raoul shows up as well on the opposite side of Christine on the ledge. Nadim only says “Come to me, angel of music” once and then it’s just like a full minute of Raoul being like “Leave her! Can’t you see she’ll never be yours!” and Christine looking at the phantom in silence. A tad awkward. Then Christine starts backing away into the ledge and when she’s about to fall, Raoul runs towards her and even the Phantom starts sliding down the dome to get to her. That was cool, ngl. Then when the Phantom is taunting Raoul, Dougie actually starts climbing the dome? Which makes sense why the Phantom then replies “That’s right, that’s right, keep walking this way”, I just found it odd that he was actually going to the phantom. For a moment I thought we would get a fight like in the restaged version, but we don’t. Christine jumps up and grabs Raoul’s pants to pull him down making him almost fall and they run away together whilst the Phantom screams “don’t go, don’t go!”.

Point of No Return

There is a table, everyone. The Phantom starts singing behind the curtain still and Christine figures out it’s him immediately. Which I think makes sense, she’s been hearing his voice for ages. In the Italy Tour production, Ramin was imitating Piangi’s accent and voice so it’s understandable if she didn’t figure it out, but the OG production always had that small issue. However, with her figuring it out super early, she immediately backs away and is super scared of him. They go around the table, Christine always making sure she is far away from him. At one point she turns to Raoul and the managers, but I guess they don’t see her or don’t figure out why she’s scared because they’re just there enjoying the show. They look like that Pikachu :0 image when she removed his hood. The problem with her figuring it out means that the song is no longer sexy nor alluring. The phantom is just singing and she’s scared. After she sings her part of “I’ve decided”, she gets on top of the table and starts crawling all sexy towards him. When she gets to him, she starts rubbing her hands all over his chest and homeboy is stressed. She calmly removed his hood and two police with guns immediately get on stage. On Box 5, Madame Giry and her daughter peak out and are looking really scared for Phantom, they enter Box 5 expecting him to be there and are confused for a moment when they don’t see him which then leads them to look super stressed out at the Phantom (my personal headcannon is that Madame Giry went there to warn the Phantom to run away before the guards could shoot him whence why she looked so scared when it was too late and he was already on stage, she’s also holding Meg to her chest super tightly). Phantom then sings his part and when he reaches the “Anywhere you go”, he removes his own mask very calmly. The only person that reacts to his face is Raoul who is taken aback by it, Christine doesn’t flinch nor move. They don’t have him putting a ring on Christine, but he does go down on one knee. Side note: on the last night I saw it, which is the night I’m unsure if it was Georgia Wilkinson or Bridget Costello singing the role, Christine was fully nodding her head at the Phantom as he sang the All I Ask of You lines, she was fully ready to be with the Phantom and stay with him, she was nodding and smiling which made the Phantom smile as well, I don’t remember at all Christine doing this on the other nights (the nights where I’m certain it was Georgia playing the role). The curtains, however, open to reveal a very dead Piangi with a sword sticking off his chest and everyone starts screaming, Erik looked absolutely devastated at the interruption. The Phantom snatches Christine’s hand and starts running away from everyone just as Raoul jumps from his box to the stage and starts running towards them. They are able to flee, so Raoul picks up the mask and rushes towards Madame Giry who is now one of the few people on stage looking very sad at dead Piangi. Carlotta at the same time comes screaming onto the stage saying to the managers “How could you let this happen” and rushes towards Piangi to cradle his body.

Final lair

Down once more they go down the stairs. As the Phantom finishes his “Why?”, the door in the middle of the stairs (that they used to get to the rooftop) opens and Raoul and Madame Giry step out. At this point I have no ideia how this is possible, I’m going to assume that the Phantom ran with Christine to the mirror and somehow Madame Giry knew about something on the lower floor that had access to the door at the stairs. Much like the Italian production, Christine is wearing the PONR dress during the final lair, unlike in Italy, she doesn’t even grab any sort of wedding dress, it is never explicitly said that the Phantom wants her to marry him (remember, he never gave her a ring during PONR). Christine sings her lines sitting on the boat, much like the first lair she refuses to exit the boat and this is not a Phantom that will drag her or be violent so he just lets her make a fuss inside the boat. During the line “Joys of the flesh” Christine shakes her head and turns her back to the Phantom disgusted.

Raoul randomly shows up on these stairs that we have never seen before that are behind the lair set, I was only able to see these stairs on the opening night when I sat on the left side of the audience, on the other nights those stairs were completely obstructed. Raoul is singing his “Free her!” lines whilst on the stairs still, which is odd like nothing is stopping you from getting down and seeing her. At this point as well, Nadim got absolutely mad man and he was laughing nonstop, at one point he randomly pulls out a knife from his pants. It did not look like a knife at all, I thought it looked like a light bulb and my brother thought it looked like a wand, so do with this information whatever you will. Eventually the Phantom says “Be my guest sir” and Raoul finally descends the stairs and goes to the set. I half expected him to pretend to be swimming before he stepped into the set, since he has to walk on the “water” for a bit, but he doesn’t. He has to pass in front of the Phantom before getting to the boat and he’s so scared and nervous. He hugs Christine and she starts getting the paddles to get the fuck out, but oh no, the Phantom knows his way around a rope, so Raoul gets choked by the rope that the Phantom used to dock his boat. Finally, Christine exists the boat and goes to Raoul and I guess realized that the Phantom has impeccable rope tying skills because she just stares at Raoul completely dumbfounded instead of undoing the rope. Finally, Nadim gets violent. He snatches Christine and pushes her away towards the right side of the stage (Raoul is on the left) so he positions himself in the middle. Fun detail, when the Phantom sings “This is the point of no retuuuurn”, he puts one foot on top of the piano stool and ends up looking like a model taking a very awkward picture. She screams “tears of HATE” on his face so he ends up sitting on the stool and at this point, Nadim is shaking so much. The Phantom is just in absolute shambles.

When Christine sings “You deceived me”, she sits on the stool and picks up the music book, sort of offering it up to him. When he finishes saying “You try my patience”, he snatches one of the music sheets from the book and cripples it in his hand, something he immediately regrets and tries to straighten the music sheet again (fun side note: on the second viewing, Nadim ripped the page out but it fell on the ground so he couldn’t catch it, it ends up looking more violent than it did the other times since it just looks like the Phantom is super pissed). As Christine sings “Pitiful creature of darkness”, the Phantom is trying to fix the sheet and straighten it out again. She puts her hand on his shoulder quite soon and he’s looking at her as she finishes the “You are not alone” part. Christine then gives him a very brief kiss and, after pulling away, starts putting her hand on his scars and trying to look into his eyes – their foreheads almost touching. The Phantom straightens himself before going for a huge hug. She hesitates for a bit, but then hugs him back until the end of the instrumental part. The Phantom uses the discarded knife that was on the stool to cut Raoul’s ropes and, whist screaming for them to go, pushes the boat away. Not before Raoul, who I’m guessing had the mask in his pocket (men’s pockets am I right?) tries to return the mask to which the phantom pushes it away. He then falls on the ground whilst screaming and sees the monkey music box so he crawls towards it and sits crossed-legged on the ground cradling the music box whilst winding it up, he looked so much like a little traumatized kid, like hugging the monkey was a coping mechanism.

The joke, however, was on me because I ended up the one being traumatized since there was no ring return at all. He’s crying and hugging the box and I’m looking around wondering if I’ll see Christine mimicking swimming on her way to the Phantom or showing up on the stairs to drop the ring from above, but no. In fact, there was no ring to be returned since he never gave it to her during PONR. The Phantom just cries for longer whilst the instrumental of the ring return plays out and randomly says the “Christine, I love you” which came absolutely out of nowhere, nothing triggered him to say that. They start singing All I Ask of You and it causes the Phantom to stand up and place the monkey on the stool. When he first heard Christine, he smiled, I think he thought she was coming back for him, but then he heard Raoul and looked really sad. He sings his final line and, where in the instrumental he would usually hide, the Phantom just picks up the music book and looks to the audience while the set slowly slides away from the audience into darkness. We see old man Raoul on the left holding the Phantom mask, we see Christine in the Masquerade outfit on the right holding a ballet pose and, for last, we see the monkey music box on top of the stool. And that’s it.

Opinions

It’s a totally different production and obviously, comparing it to the original will lead to overall disappointment. This Phantom isn’t so much intoxicating and alluring as usual, instead he has a rather more human approach to the matter. It seems like he truly just wants someone to sing his music, he’s in love with Christine, yes, but it isn’t that he’s infatuated – he’s simply in love with the idea that someone so beautiful and talented would care about his art. That’s all very well, but, unfortunately, it’s where the book and lyrics really come to ruin the experience. Some lines that he sings are really out of context in this Phantom – “touch me, trust me” and “joys of the flesh” are some of the examples where they don’t really work anymore. Christine also ends up losing some of her agency when it’s not her removing the mask from him during Point of No Return, but in my opinion, I like that he removes his own mask since this Christine is not really dragged around the way other Christines are. Raoul also played a much more naïve part in this story. It’s not a matter of being mean to Christine or gaslighting her, this Raoul just truly is blind. More often than not when it comes to the Phantom, he’s trying his best to protect Christine but ends up ignoring her in the process, which leaves Christine alone in the matter, needing to fend for herself – which in my opinion is why they had Christine doing what she did before Wishing You Were Somehow Here Again.

In regards to the actors, Nadim is really good but in the Final Lair, he switched too much. He started straight up laughing in Raoul’s face and waving a knife around when, at no point, was he shown to be that sort of angry Phantom. Nadim also has a very sweet voice, he played Raoul for many years and, it’s not that his voice isn’t fit for the Phantom, it’s just hard to explain. His Phantom feels, at times, imitations of other Phantoms without being able to shine on his own. He had really amazing moments, the standout for me being Wondering Child where he truly let his voice shine through and my god, I felt it in my bones. He was screaming out his care for Christine and explaining to her how much she hurt him and meant to him, it was truly amazing. I was able to wait for him at the stage door on my last time seeing it and he was super kind, he thanked us for waiting and apologized for having taken so long (he took about 20 minutes, we waited almost an hour for Ramin in Milan), so I really want to recommend everyone to check his Phantom out and form opinions by yourselves because I think he truly has the potential.

[lovelywingsart]

//AU// Revival (pt. 2)

-- Karl Heisenberg X OC (AFAB, She/They) --

FINALLY PART 2 AFER SO LONG- Y'all it's been so fucking hard to write recently. I'm sorry for making you wait so long, but also I'm just... eh...

This one isn't the best, especially for a part 2, but it's here, and it's being posted. Somewhat 'long awaited'!

Now I just need to finish 'Dear Mother'... But there's one more story before that!

**Remember, check out the Masterlist for more! &lt;3**

-----

Warnings?: Mild child endangerment, panic, injury, a small bit of mushy stuff?? Not sure what else- you'll see.

Summary: A panicked scramble leads to a feat seemingly unimaginable, and the reunion of a lifetime-

Almost literally.

Emelia sprinted as fast as she could after her son, pain shooting through her limbs with each step and nearly making her trip over her own feet. She could feel pulses of power the boy let off as she ran despite the new growing distance between them with each falter on her part, the ever rising fear in her chest making it increasingly more difficult to breathe. If she could feel it, there was a possibility MIRANDA could feel it... And if Miranda could feel it, then-

~

Adalwulf kept his eyes ahead of him as he ran, hugging his fathers crystal close to his chest. He sent pulses into it with each step, the power making any object around him tremble as he ran past. He reached the scrap pile rather quickly, only stopping to catch his breath and adjust the object- but he didn't put it down. The crystal was getting heavier and heavier the longer he held it, but he could do it...

He heard more yelling behind him as he turned for a moment, catching a glimpse of his mother bolting towards him before he nestled the crystal under his arm and hoisted himself up along what had once been the 'chest' of the mangled scrap heap in front of him. He crawled along the jutting pieces of the fallen creature, stopping at a rounded edge that he recognized from the few glimpses he had caught before the explosion. He peered into the now empty chasm that had shortly spun with flesh and life, now covered in an ashy dust that led to an unnaturally dark hole. It seemed to be much larger than it was, as if the chasm was... alive somehow...

As if the darkness beckoned him closer, the pulses of his power creating a small pull towards his own chest.

He glanced behind him once more to see his mother pause with wheezing breaths, trying to call his name but with barely any sound. He looked back to the hole, shifting the crystal in his arms. He looked at it, shifting it around slightly before carefully lowering and nestling it into the hole, between the parts and dust- a perfect fit.

He looked around for a moment before climbing back down, only to turn and press his palms firmly against the rounded metal of the large 'chest' mass. He focused on his hands, bringing his power towards his fingers as he recalled his fathers teachings since before he could remember, and he swore he could almost hear his voice; 'Focus on your hands, and send it through. Like... ripples in water.'

And so, he did.

He closed his eyes, focusing harder than he had before then. He imagined his power like water, as he was told, feeling small bits of static pulses running down his arms. It closed in on his hands, and he could swear he felt the metal growing warmer and warmer with each pulse.

~

Emelia nearly stumbled to a stop, leaning onto her knees with her chest burning as she wheezed. Despite her wheezing, however, her breath caught in her throat near painfully as she watched her son, THEIR son, maneuver his powers next to the heap. She could see the small pulses around him, his round face scrunched in more concentration than she had seen, even from his father. The familiar blue aura of electricity built slowly, the pulses creating a strong, low hum that seemed to vibrate in her eardrums- as well as vibrating the massive scrap heap in front of him.

"Ada-" she started, though was stopped as a much larger pulse blew out. It moved the dead grass around them, though her son stood his ground, leaning his full weight against the scraps. The pulses came in a rhythm now, she noticed. It was slow with each moving in a set of two, and a few more pulses was all it took for her to recognize the pattern with each one and the hum that came with it-

A heartbeat.

She opened her mouth to speak again, but was rendered silent with another larger pulse that nearly shoved them both back. It made the ground tremble and the scrap heap jerk, the 'chest' now in a constant state of vibration.

What the hell was he doing?!

Only a few more seconds of the strong pulsing had continued before Adalwulf suddenly pulled back, only to slam his palms against the metal with a potent electric charge.

The resulting blast from the release of power sent a pulse strong enough to blow him back with a small yell, sending smaller scraps out and pulling the larger ones in. It was enough to even blow his mother back, losing her balance and falling to the ground with a shocked scream, covering her head from whatever small pieces came towards her.

All fell silent as the ground settled save for the distant sounds of mold, and Emelia carefully moved to look up with heavy breaths. Her heart jumped into a panic almost immediately as she saw her son shift against the grass, nearly tripping over herself to scramble to get up and run to him.

"ADALWULF!!" She yelled, sliding to him as she dropped to her knees. He began to cough as she helped him sit up, patting his arms and shoulders and nearly hyperventilating as she saw two deep slices on his cheek from the debris that were already healing. "Are you alright?! What did you do?!"

"I-I'm ok, Momma..." he said quietly, reaching to hold her hands as she shifter his head around to check for more damage.

"Don't run off like that ever again...!!" She begged, holding his face still for a moment before hugging him tightly. She let herself take a breath of relief as she felt his arms wrap around her shoulders to return the hug. "Don't scare me like that Darling, please-"

A sudden noise from behind them made her stop mid-sentence and go rigid- It was a low, groan-like metallic creaking, followed by sounds of smaller pieces of scrap scraping each other and hitting the ground as they were shifted by... something.

Something from inside.

An unpleasant shiver ran up her spine and brought more tears to her eye as she pulled Adalwulf to her, slowly turning her head in mild terror as the sounds continued.

No... No, not now... Please, please not now-

She couldn't stop the low, defensive growl that tore through her throat the more she turned, her arm trembling. She'd fight if she had to. Hell, she'd DIE of she had to, as long as he was safe... As long as she could tell him to run, she'd do what she needed to.

She shuffled the boy to her side as she finally looked over her shoulder before twisting to face the heap entirely, feeling the squirming muscles under her skin as she prepared to lunge forward; only to stop with halted breath as she watched pieces of the scrap heap get shoved away as something- no, someone- emerged from the 'heart' of the lifeless mound.

A large body pushed itself free from the wreckage with pained gasps and wheezing breaths, muscles trembling in panic and confusion. Every movement seemed like agony with what looked like near freshly burned skin, and the figure only let out another cry of pain as it lost balance on the edge. Emelia watched as the individual nearly tumbled down, landing on his shoulder and back before rolling slightly on his side. Seconds seemed like hours as the man attempted to breathe, an obvious panic shocking his system as he tried desperately to at least push himself up to kneel despite the pain he was in.

She stared in disbelief, feeling her body go nearly numb as her arm fell away from her son. But... That was...

How?

"K-... Karl...?"

Her voice only came as a disbelieving whisper as she watched, feeling her muscles begin to tremble once more as her stomach twisted.

"PAPA!!!!" the boy yelled suddenly, instantly darting away and towards the man attempting to uncurl himself.

Though the agonized cry he gave as Adalwulf threw his arms around him made the boy jump and back away, he still stayed near with his arms around his shoulders, eyeing the new, fresh burns covering the visible skin with teary eyes.

Emelia kept her stare forward, watching them as Heisenberg wheezed and trembled, his eyes wild and darting around as if attempting to gather what he could of his surroundings. She could barely tell if it was only pain or a mixture of fear, and the idea was enough to get her to her own feet.

She sprinted forward towards them, only to collapse to her knees in front of them. Their son moved to his fathers side as he watched her nearly crawl to settle in front of the revived man, who's burns were visibly attempting to heal themselves, albeit slowly.

"... Karl...??" She asked quietly, her voice strained from earlier sobs. She watched as he suddenly looked up at her, his eyes wide in mild pained panic.

"E-... Em-..." he tried, though his voice was hoarse and very nearly nonexistent as he wheezed every breath. But even so, he still managed to move an arm, slowly reaching towards her. Her shock slowly turned to heavy trembling, followed by immediate sobs as tears began to swell and fall.

"Karl-" she whimpered, reaching up her own shaky hand to tap against his arm.

He was... real... He was real. This was real... he was ALIVE-

"Oh my god, KARL-"

She couldn't help but throw her own arms around his shoulders with a forced sob, flinching at the pained groan he gave- but his own hands and arms quickly found their way to her sides- patting slightly as if to test his own reality- before wrapping around her tightly.

She felt his shoulders tremble and shake as his wheezes turned to pained and scared sobs to match her own, holding her tighter than she had ever remembered.

The seconds seemed to drag on as he clung to her shirt, tears and small amounts of blood soaking into the already stained fabric. She couldn't help but nuzzle her face into his shoulder, her own shocked sobbing lessening just slightly in favor of an overwheling relief.

He was here. He was alive. She didn't know how or why, she didn't know what their son did, and she didn't give a damn.

"E-... Emmy-..." He wheezed, his voice wavering yet somewhat stronger as his body healed itself. She waited until his head moved to pull away just slightly, unwilling to let go first, carefully bringing her hands to his cheeks and making him look at her. There was a lurch in her chest as she met his gaze, his pale eyes bloodshot and wild with confusion as he seemed to search for an explanation through his panic.

She held his face in a tight yet gentle grip, trying her best to avoid the burns that covered the right side as she kept the gaze, sniffling multiple times to try and form words.

"Karl..." she tried, managing to speak through her tears. And as she watched his face, watched the emotion run through his eyes as he looked at hers, she was reminded of what their son had said as they escaped. She remembered his words as she looked at his father, searching his face as one single thought came to mind. It suddenly became the only thing she could think despite the seemingly slowed time around them and the situation still at hand, but now it was more important than ever.

"... I love you too..."

Her voice was a strained whisper, but he heard. He heard it clearly, his eyes widening as he stared at her.

"W-... W-What...?" He asked in near disbelief, his body going rigid. Her lip trembled, but she managed to give the smallest reassuring smile with a small sniffle.

"I love you too, Karl..." she said, leaning to press her forehead against his with a sudden choked sob. "More than anything, more than I could have dreamed..." she paused with an attempt at a calming breath, moving her hands to bring him closer. "I love you, so much... I never want to lose you again..."

He stared at her, his breath catching in his throat. His own sobs seemed to falter for a moment as he processed the words, though he soon broke down once more.

"S-... S-Sorry... I'm... sorry, Emmy, I..." he tried, beginning to wheeze again, though she shook her head and stopped him. He was barely able to breathe...

"Don't... please don't..." She moved to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and he froze. "Breathe... Please..."

He didn't move for a few moments before finally lowering his head, slumping forward to lean against her chest as her hand lifted to run her fingers through his hair. There was silence as he managed to allow himself to breathe, flinching with every deeper breath he took until he was no longer gasping. Slowly but surely he allowed air to move freely into his lungs, his wavering breaths finally turning into deeper, stable ones. He only moved as he felt their son pat his shoulder with a small whimper, turning to look at him.

"Ada..." he managed, moving one arm to hold it out for him. The boy immediately lurched forward, his arms wrapping around his shoulders once more as his mother shifted.

"You're back, Papa..." he said, his small voice muffled in his fathers shoulder. Heisenberg only hugged back how he could with one arm, now ignoring the pain that had turned into a low, pulsing throbbing throughout his body. He was silent for a moment before looking up again, pleading eyes begging for an answer.

"... How..." he managed, and Emelia simply shook her head before nodding to their son.

"I don't... I don't know... He did it..." She managed, attempting to find an answer, herself. He looked at their son as she continued.

"You were... You were gone, Karl..." she kept her hand on his cheek. "He brought you back..."

He was silent for a moment, only to pull away from both of them. He lifted shaky arms to hold Adalwulfs face, his eyes darting over the boys features before landing on the two slices on his cheek.

"How did..." he started, and the boy sniffled.

"I did what you told me to do..." he nearly whispered, meeting his fathers gaze with still watery eyes. "You said like water, so I did..."

Heisenberg stared at him.

"... Water..."

He was silent for a few moments before bringing him back into a tight hug. He looked at Emelia once more as if trying to confirm and make sense of their sons words, though she took a breath and looked around before standing up.

"We need to go..." she said quickly and quietly, and he frowned.

"Wh-"

"Miranda is still alive."

There was a pain in her voice that terrified him nearly as much as the womans name did. His eyes widened in near horror.

"What....?!"

She flinched at his voice, quiet and horrified as she moved to pat both of their shoulders to urge them up. She shook her head.

"She... She murdered Winters... Or I thought she did..." she explained quietly, helping him stand. He wobbled and tripped slightly, holding onto her tightly as she assisted in keeping his balance. "But... Duke has him... I don't know what happened, he may still be alive..."

"G-" he started, though his voice caught as he tripped again. "Go... We need to-"

She held him still, though suddenly reached to hold his face once he regained his balance despite throbbing muscles.

"You need to go... I'll fight, you must remain safe." She said, watching his face fall. "Get to the mountains... To the cabin... I'll meet you there. I promise."

"Emelia-"

She shook her head, nodding to their son who kept his eyes cautiously on the area around them while staying pressed to their sides.

"Please, Karl... I need you to stay with him..." she held his face carefully again. "You protected us... Let me protect you. Please..."

He stared at her for a moment, unable to stop his own lip from trembling.

"... I don't want lose you..." he said quietly, his voice scared. Whatever he had experienced, he didn't want it to happen again.

"You won't..." she assured, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. "I promise you won't... I'll come back to you. I'll come back to both of you."

He remained quiet until wrapping one arm around her waist to hug her how he could.

"... Promise me you'll kill that bitch..." He mumbled. She nodded.

"She'll be gone when I return..." she pulled away slightly to look at him. "I refuse to let our work go to waste."

She watched as he seemed to think for a moment before gaining the smallest lopsided smile.

"I wouldn't expect any less..." he replied quietly, only flinching slightly as she moved her arms to hold his face.

"Please stay safe..." she said, and he nodded.

They stood still for a moment before she finally moved, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek and taking a few steps back.

She was slow to turn, almost reluctant to do so. As if that one look at them would be her last.

Heisenberg took a breath, summoning up what small courage he had left.

"Emelia... meine Kleine Robbe..." he said, the sudden German making her pause and turn back to him almost immediately. What was-

She didn't get a chance to speak before he shakily held up his hand with his palm facing her; It was a common gesture from the past few months, one that she immediately responded to by lifting her own hand as she always would. His fingers wrapped around hers in a gentle manor as soon as her palm touched his, and she looked at him.

"Ich liebe dich."

His words were quiet yet confident, though made her heart lurch forward in her chest. Wait... That phrase was... familiar. Almost too familiar for her to be comfortable... As if he had said it to her before, and...

What?

He only smiled at her expression; a proud smile as if confirming her suspicions.

"I always have." He said, squeezing her hand. She stared at him for a moment, new tears making her body tremble.

He HAD said it before. He HAD said it to her. Years ago he had said it. Never once had he said it to her since that night, and it wasn't until now that the hazy memory returned. Never once did she think when she heard him murmur similar words to their son. Never once did she think that night had been 'real', in a way... She had always thought it may have been a dream of sorts.

Never once had she thought it was real, even after understanding years after.

He really HAD felt the same for longer than he let on, and it took until now for her to realize it.

She opened her mouth as if to speak with a trembling jaw, though wasn't able to as he nodded to the field behind them.

"Go. You still have work to do." He said quietly, finally letting go of her hand to bring Adalwulf closer to his side.

She remained silent before taking a breath and nodding, forcing herself to put on a strong face that made his expression soften.

"I won't return until she's dead." She said confidently, and he chuckled with a small flinch.

"Thats my girl..."

[squeamishnerd]

The Brights

Chapter 23: Crushes, Part 2

← Previous part Next part →

Link to master post with all chapters

⠀

⠀

Armand: I didn't know you work with this too, Serena.

⠀

Julia: Or you, I'm sorry but I don't know your name, but you're in our yoga class, aren't you?

Keiko: Yes, I'm Keiko.

Serena: We're a bit short on staff.

⠀

Julia: I need advice. I've noticed that my best friend has a crush on me, but I don't feel the same. What do I do?

Armand: Maybe I'm not the best person to ask, I woohooed with my best friend, and we're just friends.

Patina: And I have never been in a relationship.

⠀

Julia: We live together and we celebrated both Winterfest and New Year's Eve together, so it's starting to get a bit awkward.

Armand: Maybe you could just tell them that you've noticed, and say that you're not interested?

⠀

Julia: But I don't want to hurt her feelings.

⠀

Armand: Something my therapist often says to me is "you choose for you". You shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable about something just because of someone else. Pick the option that would make the situation better for you.

⠀

Julia: I guess hurting her feelings is the only way then…

⠀

Grace: Lin-Z, is it alright if I send you some code to check? It won't compile.

Lin-Z: Of course!

⠀

Lin-Z: Let us see… You missed a semicolon on line 59.

Grace: Thank you!

Lin-Z: You are welc-… *shuts down*

⠀

Grace: Oh? So you're here again, Flower?

Flower: I heard Lin-Z's voice.

⠀

Flower: Sul sul, Lin-Z, how are you doing?

⠀

Grace: Flower, please, they're still not interested in you and they will continue to ignore you until you stop flirting with them.

Flower: And what do you know about flirting!?

⠀

Tomax: If there's someone who knows something about flirting, it would be Grace. Do you know how many partners she has?

Flower: No.

Grace: Let's not turn them into mere numbers.

⠀

Tomax: Point is, she understands boundaries well and can manage several relationships.

Flower: Wait, is that why you lock me out of here so often? You are doing hanky-panky! Ew!

Grace: Don't be so judgemental.

Tomax: You're not the only one who gets locked out every now and then.

⠀

Morgan: I just have to ask, are you not interested in love? Most people are, but you don't seem to be.

⠀

Beren: Not the first time I've heard that. Sure, I haven't felt ready for a relationship, but it's not like I'm not interested. Do I give off the vibe that I'm not interested at all?

Morgan: Oh, I see…

⠀

Morgan: Who's the lucky one?

Beren: What?

⠀

Morgan: The way you said "haven't felt ready" kinda makes it sound like you're ready now, and maybe even have found someone you like.

Beren: No, I haven't found someone… and I'm not sure if I'm ready for a romantic relationship, but…

⠀

Morgan: Did we just lose to the computer?

Beren: Sorry, I got distracted…

⠀

Beren: Ugh. Why does Morgan have to be so good at noticing things?

⠀

Beren: I'm glad that she was so focused on the game that she forgot that I was in the middle of a sentence.

⠀

Beren: It's getting so difficult to concentrate on things! Again!

⠀

Beren: Different reason than before, but still annoying. I'm glad that distracting myself from thoughts about my past helped, but I didn't expect this outcome. Are other people like this? I'm not used to feeling this desperate.

⠀

Beren: I want my first relationship… Well, hopefully my only relationship, but most people go through more than one in their lifetime, so we gotta be realistic… But anyway, I want it to be a romantic one, but I don't think I can do that yet.

⠀

Beren: Okay. Focus now.

⠀

← Previous part Next part →

Link to master post with all chapters

[sopejinsunflower]

2022.001.003: Nice to Meet You

You haven’t been back since.

Hoseok holds back on a sigh, looking down at his feet as he massages the bridge of his nose. A week has passed since the day you saw them in their semi-opaque state, screamed your head off and had run for the hills and there is no way for any of them to check on you or find out what happened.

He misjudged you, made the mistake of putting you side by side with Soon-hee. She had screamed, too, that first time but it only took her a few minutes to compose herself before casually asking who they were. She was sceptical but rational, even thrusted her hands through Jungkook who was still materialising, causing the kid to yelp. It’s very uncomfortable when that happens, especially when sensations are coming back. It’s the same feeling as when you feel your stomach drop. 

But you were the total opposite - surprising them in the process, too, because as much as he doesn’t want to admit it, they hadn’t expected that reaction - and he doesn’t think you’ll be back anytime soon. The girl has ghosted the ghosts. Ha! Hoseok chuckles to himself but without much mirth. He finally lets out the sigh he’s been holding back, rubbing a hand over his face. It’ll be a few more decades until the next girl, he guessed. And that’s being generous. 

Namjoon is standing over a desk, staring intently at the book placed on top of it, the book that he had been reading the night before. He keeps one eye on Hoseok across from him, reading his friend perfectly well, but his frustration on not being able to read his book is only growing. He lost track of time last night, nose buried in the pages when the sun had risen and now he’s stuck at a cliffhanger and he’s dying to finish it. In his panic, he had accidentally shut the book, a rookie mistake that he shouldn’t be making in this day and age. They can pick up smaller things like a deck of cards but books require more energy and if he could just flip the cover-

“It must be that old housekeeper!” Jimin exclaims from the window, hands in his pockets, scowling at something he’s staring at outside. Namjoon loses his concentration and sighs exasperatedly. He goes to sit down, letting Jimin rant. “She must have stopped her from coming back. Soon-hee should’ve gotten rid of her a long time ago like we told her to.”

“You mean,” Jin says from the sofa, “like you told her to.” Jimin pulls a face but doesn’t respond. “Relax, she’ll be back.”

Hoseok perks up. “You think so, hyung?”

Jin just shrugs his shoulders noncommittally. “Mhm. Just a feeling.”

~~~

I am never going back there. Ever. 

Even if there is a zombie apocalypse and the attic is the safest place to be. Nope. Not in this lifetime. Not even if my late grandaunt rises up from her resting place, claws her way through cement (yes, she’s buried in a family mausoleum from what I’ve been told) and tells me that I’d have to go back to the attic if I was to inherit everything. I would rather walk out of this house for good, take the money already in my account and just leave. Graduate, migrate, find a job and just forget about everything that happened. 

I spent Friday simmering about how to explain missing classes by being sick without a doctor’s note but by the end of the evening, I resorted to sending an apology email to my lecturers and gave them half-truths; I had an anxiety attack and needed time to recover and in this pandemic and being in the middle of nowhere, I couldn’t get to a doctor until I was already feeling better, which by then, no doctor would grant me any sick note. I mean, it’s not really a lie. A couple of lecturers were very understanding, one didn’t buy it at all but since I was generally a proactive student on Zoom with a full attendance before, decided to dismiss it, and two others who gave me short assignments to make up for the lost attendance. Problem solved.

Now onto the main problem: the ghosts in the attic.

My first thought is that if there are ghosts in the attic then they must be everywhere! Thankfully, the month I’ve lived here has been quite uneventful until last week. I mean, if the house is haunted, shouldn’t I be warned, at least? A cryptid letter with a dozen rules and instructions on what to do or not to do? An offering to help them find peace, move on or whatever they say that ghosts do? I don’t know. I didn’t think they existed until now!

And then I had another thought, a more horrifying one: what if they are the souls of those who died here in this house? Isn’t that how ghosts manifest? Trapped forever until someone set them free by finding their bodies or helping them solve whatever unfinished business they had? Holy fuck, there might be dead bodies somewhere in the house! What kind of life did my grandaunt live?! 

Or maybe it wasn’t her but the employees. It’s a big house, anyone could easily sneak past the very busy landlady and commit heinous crimes without being undetected. Which one? The gardener who hardly ever spoke a word to me but is always with a smile and a polite nod? The cook who I see glimpses of, a gruff-looking man with that french-looking moustache, which is a little out of date, who always seems to be frowning? The grumpy, old housekeeper who insists I never go up to the third floor and who doesn’t like me much? She seems more likely but I could be biassed.

The manor ground is large and wide. Anyone can easily hide a body in the woods behind the house if they wanted to and easily get away with it. Or cemented in the walls of the house. What the fuck. Okay, I should stop. Breathe. In and out. This is not productive. 

As I’m taking deep breaths to calm myself and rid of all the dark ideas creeping into my head, I’m suddenly reminded again at the bizarreness of my situation. A grandaunt I’ve never met willed everything to a kin she never even bothered to get to know nor even visited in the time that she was alive with the condition that I live in this creepy, mysterious manor house for a year until everything is released to me. A little suspicious, no? I don’t want a haunted manor, by the way.

I gaze out the window. First thing’s first: I should find out more about the house and the acres of land it came with. I hit up Google but it yielded nothing, not even Google Map could find it. It could locate the area but the house is basically unmarked. Anyone could just travel up to the area and have no clue that it’s actually private property. I remember seeing the signboards miles down the road from the main gate, warning people not to go in further lest they want to be fined for trespassing.  

Then I searched up my grandaunt, Lee Soon-hee. The main result isn’t anything that I didn’t know before; a renown historical archeologist under a local university with quite the rapport among the industry. But what I didn’t know is that she had also been a freelancer in archaeomythology. Interesting.

I dig deeper, going through a few pages of the Google search to find anything related, clicking on any articles that have any mentions of the name Lee that’s connected to archaeology or history. By the second hour of pouring through websites upon websites, I learn that as much as she was a respectable historian, she was very much under heavy criticism regarding her involvement with pseudoarchaeology; a nook of “archaeology” that is driven by people’s crazy, unproven, mostly over-exaggerated conclusions of the past. It’s where the theories of Atlantis and the whole world-is-ending-in-2012 thing stemmed from. That study area. 

I’m neither religious nor superstitious but I do think that there are some things that you can’t explain or prove, and the whole thing with pseudoarchaeology is compelling enough for it to have that many people dedicating their lives for the cause. Grandaunt Soon-hee, however, was more involved with the darker side of the subject, specifically cult archaeology. The more I read about her, the more the items I found upstairs make sense. Or not make sense, depending on how you look at it. She wasn’t just dabbling; she was neck-deep in it. 

And still no picture of her. 

That’s the oddest thing. All these articles and reports on her work, both professionally or not, never included her picture. It’s not like I can look up her LinkedIn profile either; she was ninety-three when she passed, to my knowledge. I don’t think the whole LinkedIn thing is her generation. The pictures I did find were mostly those horrible black and white, tiny panel ones that you can barely make out any features or ones where she’s turned away from the camera, almost at the last minute so her face is blurry or completely hidden behind a book or a paper or whatever that was in her hands. It’s almost like she was careful not to show her face.

Who was she? 

A smattering of articles mentioned that she came from old money, which explains the manor, but there was no mention on who her family was or where they or the money came from. Just this one lady with not much of a background, who happened to be interested in the dark arts as a hobby. Even her obituary wasn’t impressive for a woman of her stature in her field of work; one paragraph, less than fifty, very bland words, like they didn’t know what to say of her now that she was dead compared to when she was alive and kicking. It’s all a little strange. She was a known archaeologist, they could have at least talked about her contribution in that field. 

Huh, that’s strange. 

I enlarge the screen of the obituary, zooming on the date of death. The clip is a scanned picture from an old newspaper so some words are hard to decipher and I had glimpsed over a few while reading through. If I read it right, the date of death is the year I was born, exactly forty-nine days before my birthday. That doesn’t sound correct. If she was already dead, why was she listed as my next of kin my whole life? This means she didn’t recently die, either, and that a dead woman’s name has been listed as my only living relative growing up. Was I lied to? Was there a mistake? What the hell is going on?

There’s a knock on the door and I look up to see Mrs Oliviera hovering by the doorway. I’m lying on my front on the bed with my laptop in front of me and she’s glancing at the screen. I snap the Macbook shut. 

“Dinner’s ready,” she says tersely. “Since you’re feeling better, I’ll set the dining table.”

I nod but don’t move, waiting for her to leave so I can go back to my little research.

She doesn’t budge but says, “You should come down soon or dinner will be cold.”

I nod again. “Okay.”

She takes the hint and walks off, her face tight. She really doesn’t like me, huh.

I reopen the laptop but a message pops up. 

It’s from Ha-ri. Have you started the media report yet?

I hit reply. No, not yet. It’s due in two weeks, right?

Want to hop on a call and discuss work division? I have some time before I have to cook dinner and Ryan’s napping.

Ha-ri is a stay-at-home mother with a one-year-old son, which means partnering up with her entails dividing up the work, doing the work individually and then compiling them together before submission, hoping that somehow it all blends cohesive enough. I didn’t mind it. It’s hard to align everyone’s schedules in a postgrad course so this is the best we can do.

I agree to the call and a few seconds later, the phone rings. We finish in twenty-five minutes, the longest call so far we’ve had in regards to assignments, and I finally get up from the bed. My dinner is probably already cold and sticking to the plate by now and I will suffer yet another disapproving look from the housekeeper for waiting too long to come down and her having to reheat everything, which she seems to be opposed to because the food is no longer ‘fresh’. Okay, but you’re not the one eating it. And why can’t I use the microwave myself? Because I’m not allowed in the kitchen. 

I leave my room, walking down the hallway quietly as I keep my eyes glued to the screen of my phone, typing up a sort of summary of our workload to Ha-ri so we can refer back to the text rather than having to call again. 

Ring, ring, ring.

I pause, tilting my head as I strain my ears to hear. Silence. I could’ve sworn that I heard a bell ringing somewhere. I try to focus on any sounds but the ringing has stopped.

Maybe I heard wrong. Maybe it was one of those phantom sounds you sometimes hear and mistake it for your phone ringing. It’s honestly a disease of our tech-dependent generation. I continue walking, pausing again at the top of the stairs when I hear noises. This time I’m sure it’s not some phantom noise. It’s coming from upstairs, the forbidden floor. 

I tiptoe up the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky spots. I can somewhat hear the tinkling of plates against each other and the typical sound of when someone is carrying a bunch of silverwares in their hands. And then I smell the food. Odd. The kitchen and dining hall is towards the back of the ground floor and the smell of cooking usually doesn't carry this far up. It doesn’t make sense but my curiosity is piqued. 

I take a few more steps up and crouch down by the bannister, keeping myself low and hidden in the shadows as I lean forward to see down the hallway in the direction I heard the noise. At this point, I’m convinced the house is haunted but the logical part of my brain thinks that there is an explanation. An unclosed window and the wind blowing in, a draft, mice. But what I’m seeing as I squint through the darkness is both a relief and a shocker. Mrs Oliviera is partially up the attic, her bottom half standing on the ladder. A cart with a few plates stacked on top is waiting below.

What the hell is she doing in the attic?

I can hear muffled voices. Is she talking to herself? No. The voices are deeper and…multiple? I’m growing more and more confused. I creep closer, sticking close to the walls to stay hidden. The third floor, as it is supposedly a no-entry area, is not lit and the only source of light is coming from the window at both ends of the hallways, which is why I can see the housekeeper’s activities pretty clearly. 

The voices are still audible and it’s clear now it’s not hers, but males. Are there people upstairs? Did we get guests when I was down with the fever? Why wasn’t I inform and most importantly, why the fuck are they put in the attic? We have plenty of room on the second floor, well-kept with comfy queen beds instead. Is she boarding people secretly? Broke students? Runaway teens? Her errant lovers? I scratch that last idea quickly, shaking my head. Fugitives? We’re in the middle of nowhere, it’s the best place to hide from the law. 

Suddenly, she reappears, face as white as a sheet, lips pursed so hard they’re gone. She hurries down the ladder as the trapdoor closes above her, softly. She crosses herself and mumbles a long prayer before starting to push the cart down the hall. I panic, too late to run back down towards the stairs because she’ll definitely catch me. 

I consider coming out and pretend to be all annoyed that she could be up here when I can’t and ask her about the attic, wracking my brain for an excuse to be in the shadows and obviously spying on her. But before I can come up with anything, she turns a sharp corner and disappears. Just completely vanishes into what looked like a wall.

   I wait in the dark, counting to twenty before hesitantly getting up. I follow close to the wall, keeping to the shadows, and approach the area she was last seen. I take a few steps back, standing in the middle of the hallway trying to look at it from a wider perspective. What Harry Potter shit is this?

There’s a soft thud from above and I look up. It’s coming from the attic. I’m still a little perturbed from what happened last time, replaying in my head the things I saw but, with time and the human brain’s ability to suppress, the image seemed blurry and it’s almost like my brain has been trying to purge the memory as soon as possible. The memory itself, or what’s left of it, feels unreal. Like a dream you think you remembered but don’t really. 

Time to find out.

I dawdle at the bottom of the attic door, staring at the dangling rope as if it will suddenly jump to life and start attacking me like a snake. I lick my lips, waiting for something to happen that I can use as an excuse to walk away now, even half-hoping for Mrs Oliviera to yell my name from downstairs. But all is quiet and the house seems to be slowing into a slumber. 

“Come on, don’t be a chicken,” I whisper to myself. “Once and for all.”

I pull the string and the ladder drops down, silent as usual. I climb up and place one hand against the trapdoor. I take a few deep breaths. “Just do it,” I say under my breath. “There’s no such thing as ghosts.” 

With one strong push that throws the trapdoor back on its hinges, I burst through. “There’s no such thing as-”

~~~

Dinner, the only food they can eat in a day. 

Jin watches fondly as the others dig in, exchanging food either between plates or straight from one’s plate to another’s mouth. It’s almost ingrained in them now to share every morsel, sometimes feeding others first before they taste their own food. Jin, especially, has a habit of dividing whatever is in his plate to the three younger ones, like a mother bird feeding its offspring. There are times when he thinks he’s being sneaky by giving Jungkook extra but the others know. They all know how much the kid eats; they do the same, too, when they think no one is looking. 

Jimin is taking his time with his food, carefully rolling the pasta on his fork just to savour the taste when it’s in his mouth. He doesn’t like Ollie very much but he’s aware of how much care she took to deliver the food to them every night, making sure Jean’s, the cook, plating isn’t ruined in the process. Friday nights are the best; the food is usually a little more luxurious. Today is pasta with steak. Jean even added a couple of extra slabs. That man may not look it but he’s a softy. 

While they eat, they talk. Taehyung is insisting he knows exactly how long the steak was grilled for but keeps looking at Yoongi for confirmation, who is just nodding absentmindedly. He wants to correct Taehyung but thinks it’s better to just let him be, he’s not far off. Namjoon is speaking with Hoseok, talking about a book he read while the other nods along, occasionally asking questions. Hoseok is not one to read all that much but he tries to get into it. Jungkook, on the other hand, eats quietly, face contorted in pure concentration, hearing nothing but the sound of his own chewing. 

That’s when the trapdoor swings open with such ferocity the seven of them stop dead in between mouthfuls of dinner, whipping around, eyes wide in alarm.

There, sticking out of the trapdoor, is the one they have been waiting for, looking like you are ready to yell out a war cry. Both you and them stare at each other, eyes as big as the plates the boys are eating out from, neither party saying a word or even breathing.

Jimin, sitting closest to the door, struggles to get his mind turning, forgetting how to even speak, much less say hi, a stray pasta hanging from his lips. Before he can say anything, you call out. “Who the fuck are you?” 

~~~

“Who the fuck are you?”

My mouth is hanging open. There in front of me sat seven drop-dead gorgeous men that I have ever seen in my life, staring right back at me, looking like they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t. The one nearest to me, with a pasta strand hanging from his mouth, blinks a few times before he slurps up the noodle. He runs his left hand through his blond hair, pushing it back before standing up. He uses the back of his hand to wipe his mouth.

“Hello,” he croaks out, cheeks blushing. 

I stare dumbly at him as if he spoke a different language. He takes a cautious step forward, looks back once at the others then takes another so that he’s now standing over me. He holds out a hand. “I’m Jimin.”

a/n: I know that these first three are short chapters so I hope you are patient with meee T_T I'm also trying to maintain a regular once a week update on this series and will do my best to gradually make them longer at at least 5k words. Anyway, lmk your thoughts in the comments and feel free to ask me anything! xx

Next>>

Go to Series Masterlist!

Check out my other works → :MASTERLIST:

Taglist (open):

@queen-in-the-shadows @singukieee @effielumiere @wray-jeon @mayla548

[suitk0via]

As is the mother, so is her daughter

Pairing : Dad!Bucky x Reader

Word Count : 1k

Warnings : none just sweetness

Synopsis : Bucky's daughter introduces you as her mom for the first time ( based on a request )

Teacher's Favorite AU | Masterlist

"What time do we need to be there?" Bucky asked leaning over your shoulder. Currently you were rather engrossed in some lesson planning, trying to get yourself ahead just to save a headache. Glancing up at the little clock on your laptop you sighed, "In about an hour."

Elaine had recently expressed interest in taking ballet classes. Of course the both of you encouraged her to go forward with her fascination - even if it may have ended up being short-lived. Who could say no to a little girl in a tutu? Her eyes just lit up at anything that had to do with the subject. You fell in love with the routine about as much as whenever she'd come home and show you everything she'd learned.

Bucky had gotten pretty good at putting her hair back into a smooth bun too. You would help her get dressed and Bucky would fix her hair. Thankfully, it was never a stressful process. Even if Elaine became agitated by how difficult it was to pull her tights on.

"Can we go a little early? I wanna see her in action." He said. Laughing you closed the lid of your laptop giving him a incredulous look. "Are you going to raise your hand and ask if you can go to the bathroom too?" You joked. Scoffing he leaned down biting your shoulder causing you to yelp in surprise.

"Bucky!"

"Don't be a smartass then."

"Okay okay. Come on." You laughed standing from your seat.

The drive to the dance studio was relatively short, but Bucky had a way of making it feel like a lifetime. Just to bug you he would ask 'are we there yet?' or 'how much longer?'. Somehow those questions always made a drive seem like road trip. Not to mention the constant changing of song choice.

You wouldn't have it any other way.

Once you'd arrived, the both of you watched through the big windows with smiles plastered on your faces. Watching her learn where to place her feet with a determined look on her face was just adorable. In those moments of determination she mirrored Bucky in the best ways. Furrowing her eyebrows and almost frowning as she concentrated to the best of her ability. "She's definitely the best one in there." He said, paying no mind to the plethora of mothers nearby.

You could practically feel there glares burning through your skin as you hushed him. He already riled up all the PTA moms, the last thing you needed was dance moms on his back. "Careful with your words, Buck. We'll end up on reality TV." You whispered. The both of you devolved into quiet laughter at the idea.

A few minutes had passed and a flood of little girls in pink tutus came rushing out the door. Elaine came out last, holding hands with another little girl. You didn't recognize her, but you were sure you'd be introduced in a moment. She smiled once she saw the both of you, running towards you with the girl in tow.

"Hey Bug!" Bucky said squatting down to her level, accepting her excited hug. "Who's your friend?" He asked. The little girl stood holding her hands behind her back swaying back and forth watching her tutu move. Elaine jumped back as if she had remembered the girl was there. "This is Danielle, but she likes to be called Dani." Elaine said, tugging her forward to introduce her.

Dani looked up at you with big eyes and gave a shy wave. She was just the cutest little girl. Smiling you waved back at her watching as she put her hands on her face bashfully. "Nice to meet you Dani." Bucky said, sticking his hand out to her. Elaine assured her she didn't have to be shy, and she took his hand hesitantly.

Elaine seemed to finally notice your presence and gasped before throwing her arms around you. Laughing you patted the top of her head watching as she spun around and grabbed Dani again.

"This is my daddy, and this is my mommy. I call her sweetheart sometimes too. You can call her sweetheart."

You almost didn't catch what she had said, but when you did you took in a sharp breath. It wasn't unusual for her to call you mom at home, but she'd never said it outside of those walls. Especially whenever she was introducing you to someone. She almost exclusively referred to you as sweetheart to anyone who asked.

"Hi sweetheart."

Dani's little voice brought you back to reality. Now all three of them were staring at you, more specifically Bucky who was just grinning from ear to ear. "Nice to meet you Dani." You said, your voice cracking a little. Just as quickly as the moment came, it passed, and Dani was running off towards her mothers kissing them both on the cheek as she introduced Elaine.

Bucky straightened up wrapping his arms around your neck. A stray tear slipped down your cheek and you reached up to hastily wipe it away. "Aw, don't cry momma." He pulled back kissing your cheeks. You just laughed kissing him gently in return. "Sorry." You apologized looking past him to check on Elaine. Putting his hands on your face you had no other choice than to look back at him, a little mesmerized by the loving look in his blue eyes.

"Nothin' to be sorry about, sweetheart. It's an emotional thing." He assured you. Elaine came running over smushing herself between the two of you. "What are we going to eat?" She asked, causing the both of you to laugh. Looking down at her you shook your head with a smile, "Not sure. We can figure it out at home."

Walking back towards the car Elaine took off ahead of you and Bucky threw his arm around your shoulders. Bucky was staring at you and you kept glancing at him, a little concerned by the mischievous look in his eyes.

"Would it be wrong to say I'm dating a milf now?"

You gasped shoving his arm off of you, and he just laughed.

"James!"

"It's a valid question." He said putting his hands up defensively. You rolled your eyes trying to walk ahead of him. Leave it to Bucky to make a comment like that after one of those most sentimental moments of your life.

[felix-cant-ski]

Here have some Dead by Daylight headcanons

David runs hot when he sleeps, so he typically sleeps shirtless and tends to sprawl out every which way.

Due to the sheer number of Survivors in the realm, there’s actually more than one bonfire, but they’re all within relatively close proximity to each other. There are also tents at the campsite, because come on literally everyone having absolutely ZERO semblance of shelter or privacy and having to crowd around one small fire would just be weird, especially if the Entity Is Merciful Sometimes Maybe Kinda.

Dwight and Felix are both autistic. So is Claudette, but I’m pretty sure that one is just straight up canon.

Jonathan is the one who discovered and subsequently taught the others how to spectate matches.

Rather than being perpetual night, days pass in the realms, but not in a way that makes time even remotely possible to track. Given that humans need sunlight in order to stay healthy, letting the Survivors see the Sun every now and then is how the Entity ‘takes care of her toys’ so to speak, so that She can get more mileage out of them before they get Voided.

Weather and time of day vary on every map, to add more variables to trials and keep them unpredictable and interesting.

Without the control of reagents, the thickness of the Dark Mist varies.

James uses the clear reagent frequently, having had More Than Fucking Enough fog to last a lifetime.

David can speak French. As the son of aristocrats he was essentially forced to learn it both in-school and by his parents, and his academic prowess made it more-or-less easy for him. He no longer speaks it fluently, because he didn’t care to keep it up, but he’s still conversational.

Ji-Woon has a shallow obsession with Dwight, given his history of fixating on men with nice voices.

Dwight has cats, and he cares for and talks to them exactly like this guy.

David is afraid of cats. He doesn’t hate them, and there’s no rhyme or reason behind it, it’s just one of those phobias that people sometimes have just because. After escaping with Dwight and spending a lot of his time at the Fairfield house, their own cats help him overcome his phobia, and he becomes a bit of a cat lover.

Yes we ship Kingfield. And we will chapter-and-verse anyone who will listen on how much sense it makes, but that deserves an entire post of its own.

After Dwight and David escape together, at some point Dwight gets a rose tattoo on his right wrist to match David’s on his neck.

While Her power is seemingly strongest on Dyer Island, another point of concentration for the Entity’s power is the US north/mid-east. Laurie went missing in Illinois, Quentin was taken from Ohio, we headcanon that Dwight is from Iowa.

In addition to German, obviously, Felix is fluent in English and French and conversational in Korean (probably Dutch as well given how similar it is to German, but we’re not sure if he’d have ever actively learned it).

Dwight likes to cook. He’s actually fairly good at it; that plus his cooperative/leadership skills are what helped him become the manager at PizzaWhat! so quickly. It WOULD have been a steady job, only with his luck, the store closed down and he wasn’t transferred.

Felix is a haemophiliac. The Entity keeps this in check enough for it not to stop him from being too interesting in trials, but as such, he is always afflicted with the Haemorrhage status effect when injured, and his Deep Wound timer depletes twice as fast.

Dwight is the Entity’s favourite of the lot, the one who’s been there the longest out of the OG 4, and the only one who remembers several of the Survivors that got Voided. This is part of the reason that pretty much everyone agrees on him as the unspoken leader.

The base Perks used to be the personal Perks for the Voided Survivors.

[sunshine-and-ladybugs]

CONTD. @empathyisagiftandacurse

“Yes. I do see some colors from sounds but for me…it’s a little bit more than sounds that trigger auras for me.” Lexi grinned. She blinked. What could fireflies do to protect anyone? They couldn’t even bite humans! She decided not to question the young don. Lexi had barely recognized him in this disheveled state. She’d thought he was just a youth who happened to have a stand until she had seen his face lit by the fireflies and moon glow and realized he looked eerily similar to the picture in her dossier. Dr. Kujo had confirmed the youth was safe to approach. The Foundation agent was glad he believed her when she told him the field was glowing and the tree was normal. Most people would have thought she was crazy. She flashed him a grin and launched herself up like a squirrel, clambering up behind him and perching on a sturdy branch across from him. “I’ve climbed a few trees in my lifetime.” She tried to gauge how far the glow extended but it was hard to make out the boundary lines without making her head hurt and her eyes water. Lexi started and stared at Giorno a moment, considering. She knew exactly what he was referring to. Should she tell him now? Was it really a good time to digest this kind of information, when they needed to concentrate on a potential enemy? “I think that will be best saved for our appointment time, Sir.” Lexi replied politely, smiling somberly. Amusement lightened her features again. “After all, it will be hard to discuss how we can help your township recover from the drug trade and mafia taxes without looking at a map of places that need assistance and drawing up diagrams of what supplies are needed, and so forth while we’re in a tree.”

☆~*•.°●☆~*•.°○☆~*•.°●☆~*•.°○☆~*•.°●☆~*•.°○☆~*•.°●☆~*•.°○

"...so what you mean to say is that I am to expect heavy news," Giorno deduced flatly. Did he even want to know anymore...

Yes. No matter how hard it was, he had to accept it. Knowing the truth would always be important to him. He sighed and glanced out towards the field again.

Something else she said made him do a double take.

"You... have already decided to help us?" he looked back at her surprise. "Not even waiting for whatever Passione will have to offer? Even with our past? That is... incredibly generous of the Foundation..." he frowned, staring at her for a moment. It was too good to be true. But he could tell she was being genuine. She seemed passionate about helping people. She had a good heart.

Unless the Foundation lied to her too? But they'd gain nothing from that...

He rubbed his eyes briefly. He was feeling tired. For a moment, he considered taking a nap. But that would not be wise. Why was he even thinking of doing that anyway? He was never that tired. He'd spent sleepless nights doing much more gruelling tasks before, especially during the extremely hectic first week he'd joined Passione. Was this something to do with the Stand-?

A soft pattering sound caught his attention. Glancing back at Lexi, he stiffened when he saw the fireflies dropping dead, one by one, onto the ground below them. The grass was already much taller than before.

"What-?"

Looks like even staying above ground without touching the grass wasn't going to save them or stall for time at all.

But why did the fireflies die? It would have been easier for them to target him and Lexi.

Unless... it couldn't discriminate between any living creature trapped within the Stand. And fireflies had a much shorter lifespan than humans...

"The grass..." he muttered. "The grass drains life force. It's taking it from us and using it to grow taller."

How much time did they have left?

"Stay here, I'm going to check something," he warned Lexi, climbing back down to the ground. The grass was already up to his shins.

"How long have we been here already?" If he had to estimate, maybe ten, fifteen minutes. Judging by the length of the grass, and how quick the fireflies perished... "We might only have less than an hour before we're killed."

He touched one of the grass blades, his brows creasing. What would happen if he yanked one of them out? Did he want to risk it?

"I'm thinking about pulling out one of the grass blades," he admitted to Lexi. "Do you think I should risk it?" He looked at her seriously. "Your life is on the line too. I want you to have a say in this."

[edendaphne]

“Discordant Sonata” Chapter 21

>>Click here to read on Ao3<<

>>Click here to read on Wattpad<<

–––––

CHAPTER 21: IMPROVVISANDO

Music glossary: Improvvisando: with improvisation

Glossary: Wǎnshàng hǎo : Good evening Shīfù : Teacher/Master

(Mood music: Night of Beijing - Jia Peng Fang)

That evening

Marinette fidgeted with her napkin, occasionally sipping her now-lukewarm tea while sitting at the kitchen bar counter. Chat Noir sat on the stool beside her in silence, also nursing a half-emptied cup. She checked the clock for what seemed to be the hundredth time in the last few minutes.

“It’s about that time. I’ll head up to my room to let Ladybug inside. Will you get the door if your visitor arrives before she does?”

“Sure,” he replied, uneasy but compliant, doing his best to avoid staring at the black eye she’d received earlier that day.

Marinette set her cup in the sink and headed upstairs, leaving Chat alone with his thoughts.

He tried to keep his fast-beating heart in check, subconsciously clenching his jaw. It was finally happening. He was going to meet “him”: The Guardian of the Miraculous.

Following the events at school earlier that day, Adrien had walked Marinette to her house, where her family invited him to stay for a cup of tea until his “ride” arrived to pick him up. Of course, he’d eagerly accepted. It was nice to interact with the family as Adrien instead of just as Chat Noir.

After leaving, he hid away and transformed so he could sneak in through Marinette’s balcony as he usually did.

Upon transforming, however, he found a series of voice mails from Ladybug that she’d left during Adrien’s attempted abduction. Her voice was frantic. He could hear the urgency and distress in her tone, and a heavy blanket of guilt settled onto his shoulders as he listened.

The first message asked him to come to their school, that it was an emergency, to please call her back as soon as possible. He chewed on his lip, wanting nothing more than to hide away in a cave in shame.

The second one must have been left right after she’d rescued Adrien and left him at the school nurse; she’d called to let Chat know the incident had passed. Then she asked if he was okay, since she hadn’t heard back from him. He sighed. Typical Ladybug, always worrying and thinking about others first, even when she was having a rough time.

The last voicemail caused a trail of ice to trickle down his spine as he listened. Ladybug informed him that she had scheduled an impromptu meeting with the Guardian at the Dupain-Cheng’s house that evening, with Marinette’s permission, and that it was of utmost importance that he attend.

He shivered as goosebumps appeared on his arms and he swallowed hard. What was the purpose of this meeting? Was he in trouble for not showing up today during ‘Adrien’s’ kidnapping? And why meet here, at the Dupain home, instead of somewhere more private and away from civilians? What was the Guardian like? Would Chat get reprimanded and treated with disdain for having been their enemy for all these years, or would he be understanding and forgiving?

More importantly, would he have to disclose his identity to him, or to both him and Ladybug, to prove his loyalty? He winced at the mere thought of it. The last thing he wanted was for Ladybug to think less of him, or to pity him. Especially after the kidnapping attempt.

Additionally, if they were to learn that Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste, would they want to confront him head-on? Adrien didn’t feel ready for that, for several reasons.

First of all, would he be able to protect Ladybug, as he’d promised her? Hawkmoth had shown that he’d developed some sort of new power. Either that, or an entirely different person had become involved and was helping him. In any case, he didn’t know what exactly they were dealing with anymore.

Secondly, if the time came and he had to hurt or even kill his father, he didn’t know if he’d be able to do it. Yes, Gabriel was a monster and Adrien despised what he had become. But what if the damage was reversible and there was still a way to bring him back to normal? He just had to know, before doing something he might permanently regret.

The sudden ringing of the doorbell startled Chat out of his thoughts and he practically fell off his seat.

He ran to answer the front door, looking to make sure no one else was around. At the last second, he remembered to detransform and slip on the hood of his zip-up sweater (the one Marinette had gifted him), pulling a scarf over his nose and mouth so he wouldn’t be recognized if anyone outside were to catch a glimpse of him.

He looked out through the peephole, only to see the very top of someone’s head, balding with grey hair, and a little bit of their eyebrows.

Huh. Somehow Adrien thought the Guardian would be a bit… taller?

He turned the knob and the door opened, its squeaking hinges somehow louder than usual. Peeking out from the side like a scared tortoise, he checked to make sure the individual matched the description he was given, then stepped back to allow the door to swing open all the way. The older man stepped inside, closing it behind him.

“Hello,” Adrien said meekly, bowing his head slightly. “You must be…”

“Yes. I am Wang Fu,” he replied, bowing politely in greeting. “It is very good to see you again, Adrien Agreste.”

While Adrien’s face scarf efficiently concealed the way his jaw dropped when the elder man called him by name, there was no hiding the way his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

“W- what?!” he sputtered. “How did you—”

The man called Fu chuckled, stroking his beard. “It was a long time ago, but we’ve met before.”

Adrien lowered his scarf and frowned in concentration, falling silent for a few seconds. Then it dawned on him.

“YOU!!” he gaped. “I do remember you! It was my first day of lycée! You fell down in front of our school and I helped you up. It was you who put the cat miraculous in my bag that day, wasn’t it?”

“That is correct,” Fu confirmed.

“But why me? You could’ve picked anyone, so why did you choose someone like me?”

Fu’s smile faltered when he said this. Adrien had said “anyone”, but he could see that Fu knew what he’d actually meant. Why did you choose someone as broken as me?

The man folded his arms behind him, considering his answer. “Guardians are bestowed with several powers and abilities. One of them is to locate and select good candidates for the miraculous jewels. And so I was led to you.”

Chat grimaced in confusion. “So if you already knew it was me, why bother to ‘test’ me?”

“My powers as a guardian may lead me to a potential candidate, but ultimately the choice is still mine to make. It was a simple test, but it showed me what your first instinct would be if you saw someone in need. The answer I received was satisfactory. You were meant to be Ladybug’s Chat Noir.”

Adrien sighed, running a shaky hand through his hair. “Honestly, a couple of months ago I wouldn’t have known whether to hug you because I got to become Chat Noir, or whether to punch you because I had to become Chat Noir. But it’s because of you that I got to meet Ladybug, so I am grateful to you for that. It’s good to finally meet you. Officially.”

He extended his hand and Fu took it with a smile, giving it a firm shake.

Afterwards, Adrien’s gaze fell, brows scrunching together. “I can’t believe it. All this time, you knew. You could’ve told Ladybug who I was years ago. She could have figured out a way to take away my miraculous while I wasn’t transformed, like at school, and she would’ve had one less enemy to deal with. It would’ve––” he pursed his lips, expression full of shame, and he lifted his eyes to meet Fu’s once again, “–it would’ve made it easier for her. She would’ve suffered less if I’d been out of the picture. So why didn’t you?”

Fu’s countenance became somber, his eyes carrying years of pain and regret. He took a few moments to consider his words. “When I was a boy, barely a teenager, something terrible happened. Hundreds of innocent people died, and it was all because of me.”

Chat almost reeled back as if he’d been smacked across the face, puzzled about the sudden switch in topic. He remembered Ladybug briefly mentioning this a few months ago, on the night they danced together. He waited for Fu to elaborate.

“I was only trying to protect them,” the older man explained. “After I was orphaned as a child, the monks of the Guardian Temple took me in. They became my family. They were stern, but fair and kind. It was a tough childhood, but I was happy.” He sighed. “However, there were those who would try to steal the miraculous and use their power selfishly. It was an endless struggle. Many were lost over the years. I longed for peace. I wanted my family to be safe, I wanted us to be left alone. So I did what I thought would be a better route, an easier one; one with less hardship and bloodshed. You see, one day while I was supposed to be on guard duty, I sneaked away to where the miraculous box was kept. I put on both the ladybug and cat miraculouses and used them to make a wish: I wished that our enemies would disappear.”

The older man exhaled, squeezing his eyes shut, the memories of what came next clearly still haunting him. Adrien couldn’t help but hold his breath while he listened.

“It worked,” Fu resumed, voice quiet and slightly shaky. “But as you might have suspected, there is always a price to pay; a balance that must be maintained. Therefore, because of my wish, all the monks in our Guardian temple and the innocent people of the surrounding village were ripped away from me, along with our enemies. The wish was technically fulfilled, but I never suspected that the cost would be that high. I have had to live with that in my conscience for over a hundred years.”

He clasped his hands behind his back, appearing more vulnerable than Adrien would have ever expected. He continued, “Since that time, I have both seen and caused much death in my lifetime, protecting the miraculous box alone as the last Guardian. So, you see, if there was even one person I could save, I had to try. I wanted to trust in the miraculouses, like I should have decades ago, during my misguided attempt to control the outcome of a complicated situation.”

Adrien absently rubbed his arm, pondering Fu’s words. “Looking back,” he began, “I can see the reasoning behind a lot of Ladybug’s decisions and principles, now that I know your story.”

“Indeed. Ladybug is a remarkable young lady; I knew that even back then. When I would ask her if she was willing to risk her life for the sake of a stranger, she would say yes, every single time. If anyone can persevere for the greater good, it was her. Was it unfair of me? Probably. Have I asked too much from her? Absolutely. Have I made mistakes while trying to guide her? Yes. Many of them.” He put his hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “I wanted to save you that day by giving you the cat miraculous. But I never would have guessed that it would also doom you and force you into a role of servitude. I hope that you will forgive me for this.”

Adrien’s heart pained for Fu as he admitted his guilt. “You couldn’t have known it would’ve turned out that way. It wasn’t your fault,” he insisted.

Fu shrugged. “I try to tell myself that, but I can’t quite convince myself. The situation made sense once Ladybug told me about Hawkmoth.”

“You mean, when she told you that Hawkmoth was my father?” Adrien asked.

“Yes,” Fu replied. “I had my suspicions, because it would explain your motivations, but I had no proof, no way of finding out for sure. It made sense that Hawkmoth would be Gabriel Agreste. The butterfly miraculous requires its wielder to be creative and inventive, since it relies on their ability to convert the subject’s emotions into a source of power. And he had the motivation.”

Adrien hummed in agreement.

“Additionally, such a clever and talented individual getting ahold of the cat miraculous would be incredibly dangerous. I’d be lying if I said I had never considered taking your miraculous away. But even still, it was safer to let it all play out. I didn’t want to repeat past mistakes. And if Hawkmoth was Gabriel Agreste, your fate if you were to lose the cat miraculous would have been disastrous. Maybe it would have even alerted him about the presence of a Guardian in Paris. But now that we know the truth, we can plan accordingly.”

Adrien gulped. So Fu had considered taking his miraculous away before. “A-are you going to tell Ladybug who I am?”

Fu shook his head. “It is not up to me to decide when it will be right for there to be no more secrets between you two. I only know that it is not yet time.”

Adrien curiously tilted his head, brows furrowed in confusion. “How do you know that?”

As Fu started to answer, Adrien heard a doorknob twist open behind him and he quickly pulled his scarf back over his features.

The door opened and Ladybug’s voice exclaimed, “There you are! What are you two doing out here in the entryway?”

Adrien cleared his throat, then stammered, “R-right, pardon my manners. Please, come in.”

Fu walked past him, entering the living area. He took Ladybug’s hands between his, shaking them briefly, and said, “Wǎnshàng hǎo, Ladybug.”

With a small bow, Ladybug replied, “Wǎnshàng hǎo, shīfù. Thank you for coming at such short notice. Please, have a seat.”

Chat entered the room, having transformed now, and stepped forward to greet her.

He stopped short, realizing that he wasn’t quite sure how to greet her since last night’s development in their relationship, not to mention being very conscious of the Guardian watching them. He settled for a hug, which she returned, squeezing him tightly, and added a quick, discreet peck on his cheek. He smiled, feeling his face heat up.

Pleasantries aside and everyone seated, it was Ladybug who spoke first.

“Thank you both for being here. There’s a lot we need to talk about.”

----------

A transformed Wang Fu stood at the bedroom window, curtains drawn, chanting in a language that neither Ladybug nor Chat Noir understood, holding the last of several metallic talismans he’d blessed and scattered around the room. The pair kept their eyes on him, marveling at the efficiency and care that he put into each incantation. There was something sacred, even holy about this ritual. They could feel powerful magic emanating from his form, invisible bursts of energy swirling about the room, dancing all around them in a silent symphony.

Ladybug cast a furtive glance at her partner. He’d been quiet for a little while, after learning about his attempted akumatization the night before. Ladybug had told him that it was Marinette who let her know, and that Plagg was the one who had informed her.

She’d called Master Fu before going to school to let him know what happened last night, and he promised he would figure out a solution. He’d spent all day preparing these special talismans, which would ward off akumas and keep them from entering this room. But only this room. He wasn’t strong enough to cast such a potent, long-term spell over a larger area; especially not at his age.

Fu, or rather, Jade Turtle, was silent for a few moments after placing the last charm, a silver one with indecipherable symbols carved into it, then turned around to face the couple.

“The talismans are almost done being enchanted,” he said, pretty out of breath, beads of sweat present on his brow. “There is one more thing that needs to be done. But I think I’ll need your help for this, Ladybug.”

Ladybug stepped forward in response. “Sure, Master. What is it?”

“I would do it myself, but, well… let’s just say I’m not as young as I used to be.”

“Of course Master, anything you need. Just tell me what to do.”

Fu removed his bracelet, the turtle miraculous, and turned back to his civilian self, then handed the jewelry to her. His kwami, Wayzz, floated next to them awaiting instruction.

“If you could transform with my miraculous to finish the protection spell, I’d very much appreciate it. I’ll show you what to do when you’re ready.”

The young woman gaped at him, having never transformed into any hero other than Ladybug before.

“Oh! R-really?? S-sure! No problem...” She took the bracelet hesitantly, studying it like she’d never seen it before, then excused herself to the ensuite for privacy.

In the bathroom, Ladybug detransformed and removed her earrings, handing them to Tikki for safekeeping. She put on the emerald stone bracelet, staring at it as if it might try to crawl away from her if she wasn’t careful enough.

She squeezed her eyes shut in preparation. “Wayzz, shell on.”

Jade green light shone around the bathroom, and Marinette felt the magic of the turtle miraculous engulf her form. When it passed, she gulped and opened her eyes, lifting them to the mirror to catch a glimpse of her newly transformed self.

“Whoa.”

The heroine stared at her reflection across the way. She ran her fingers over the various bits of fabric and armor, taking the time to appreciate the feel and texture. Somehow, she felt quite powerful. Tough. Solid. Almost like a sentient brick wall.

“Wow, Marinette! You look incredible!” Tikki whispered to her.

“Aww, thank you Tikki,” she replied. “It feels so different, but it’s also really cool.”

Sparing one last glance into the mirror, she finally emerged from the bathroom. Fu was seated at the desk chair across the room, taking a short breather. Chat was speaking to him in hushed tones, but turned around when he heard her re-enter the bedroom.

His jaw dropped and he gasped.

“Oh my God, you’re adorable!” Chat blurted out. He caught himself and turned tomato red, then stuttered, “Umm! S-sorry, I––”

Ladybug (Lady...turtle??) giggled, stepping forward to stand beside him once again. “Thanks,” she replied shyly, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear as she usually did when she was nervous, but her hand bumped into her suit’s hood instead. Not quite sure what to do with her hands, she folded them in front of her as she awaited further instruction.

Tikki flew in front of Master Fu, bowing her head in greeting. “It’s good to see you again, Master!”

“Likewise. I hope you are doing well,” he greeted back.

Tikki flew over to Chat Noir, to say hello to him as well. “Hello, Chat Noir! It’s nice to formally meet you,” she chirped happily.

Chat beamed and answered, “Tikki, right? It’s great to finally meet you too! I must admit, you look a little different than I thought you would.”

Tikki giggled. “Did you think I’d be more insect-like? Maybe with six legs and an exoskeleton?”

Chat shrugged timidly. “Well, I mean… Maybe…?” ‘Ladybug’ and Tikki looked at each other and snickered at his reply.

Fu smiled at their interactions fondly, recalling times spent with loved ones, allies no longer here. With a small grunt, he stood up to continue the protection ritual.

“This way, Ladybug. Chat Noir and Tikki, please stand over there; we’ll need a bit of space for this. You might feel a bit tired once this is finished, so be sure to get plenty of rest tonight,” he instructed.

Tikki perched on Chat’s shoulder as he moved towards the edge of the room. They spoke in hushed voices as Fu instructed Ladybug and had her repeat phrases from his notes.

While they waited, Chat turned to Tikki and whispered, “By the way, I wanted to thank you... for helping Ladybug and keeping safe all these years. She means a lot to me.”

If kwamis could blush, Chat was sure that’s what Tikki’s face showed at the moment. “It’s been a pleasure to be her kwami. She’s the best! I’m glad you’ve gotten to know her and see what a sweet person she is.”

Chat smiled, cheeks dusted pink. “I am too.”

------

Many minutes passed, and Ladybug and Fu finished casting the protection ward. Chat helped Fu gather his things as Ladybug excused herself to transform back to her regular hero self.

As she re-emerged from the bathroom, Chat handed her a glass of water and invited her to sit on the bed so she could catch her breath and gather back some of her energy. “Welcome back, Lily-bug,” he greeted her with a wink. Ladybug beamed at him, accepting the water and taking a seat next to him.

Fu stood beside them, having finished gathering his belongings in a satchel. As he gave Ladybug time to rest, he asked, “Do either of you have any questions about the protection ritual, or about anything else?”

Ladybug replied, “I actually do have some questions, sir.”

Fu nodded.

“Master... why did Hawkmoth attempt to akumatize Chat Noir last night? If he’s tried it before, why did he not succeed during other nights?” Ladybug’s questions came faster once she got started. “Since he tried to akumatized Chat, does that mean he knows where he lives now? Is Chat even safe here anymore? What about the Dupains? Are they gonna be okay? How much does Hawkmoth know?”

Chat looked at Fu expectantly, realizing that he, too, had those same questions.

Fu replied, “The owner of the butterfly miraculous sends out his butterflies in search of a specific strong emotion, but is not aware of their location until after the host accepts it. He is able to learn some vague details about why they are feeling that certain emotion. My guess is that he was able to locate him while he was having a nightmare. So, no. He does not know that Chat Noir lives here. His powers have limitations, just like you do with yours. He is more powerful since he is older and more experienced, but even he can’t overextend the capabilities of his miraculous.”

He paused, stroking his beard, and contemplated. Then he asked, “Did something happen last night to make your emotions different from what they normally are?”

Ladybug and Chat Noir looked at each other, blushing furiously, stammering as they attempted to answer without divulging too much unnecessary information.

Fu raised an eyebrow, then chuckled knowingly, raising his hands to stop them. “It’s okay, I don’t need to know the details.”

“Umm! I-it’s not what you think!”

“M-master, don’t misunderstand–”

“Y-you see–”

“What happened was…”

“My guess is–” Fu interrupted, “–That Hawkmoth sensed your great joy last night, and became enraged. He couldn’t stand the thought of you being happy because it would mean that he is in the wrong, and his pride won’t allow him to accept that.”

Chat and Ladybug fell silent, looking downcast, as the explanation both made sense yet was immensely disheartening.

“There’s something else, Master,” Ladybug spoke again. “Something happened at school today. Akumas, but they vanished without a trace. I mentioned it to you earlier today over the phone. Have you ever heard of such a thing?”

“Ah, yes. And all that remained was two white feathers?” Fu asked.

“That’s right. Could the akumas still be out there because they haven’t been purified?”

Fu shook his head. “Allow me to explain. Firstly, as Ladybug already knows, two of the miraculouses in my box went missing when the temple of the guardians was destroyed: the butterfly and the peacock. One of them fell into Hawkmoth’s hands sometime within the last few years. But after hearing about what happened at the school today, we can now confirm that Hawkmoth is currently in possession of not just one, but of both of them. Either that, or he has someone else working under him.”

“The Peacock… of course!” Ladybug gasped, voice filled with dread.

Chat looked at her, then back at Fu, waiting for him to elaborate.

“The Guardian’s Grimoire calls them ‘sentimonsters’, mystical beings created out of thin air using the peacock miraculous, which harnesses the power of emotions. They can be created and destroyed whenever the wielder desires. Usually they are simple creatures, designed to be helpers or perform smaller tasks. However, they can also be more sophisticated, even indistinguishable from other humans, although an enormous amount of energy is required to create these complex sentimonsters. One can even ‘borrow’ the appearance of an already existing person. In this case, Hawkmoth chose not to give the sentimonsters the ability to speak, so they couldn’t divulge their secrets, in the event that they were caught.”

Ladybug shuddered. “What the hell?! That is so creepy.”

“Indeed.” Fu looked over at Chat, who had remained pensive throughout this exchange. “Any thoughts, Chat Noir?”

Chat looked up at him, trying to figure out how to phrase what he wanted to say. “I… I think I remember seeing the peacock miraculous in my father’s safe once. I only caught a glimpse of it; I just thought it was some of my mom’s jewelry he kept as a memento. I had no idea it was a miraculous. Otherwise, I would’ve had Plagg help me break into the safe and taken it with me when I ran away from home. There are so many things my father never told me… I’m sorry I don’t know more.”

Ladybug reached out to hold his hand, giving it a small squeeze, which he returned.

“You’ve done more than you know, believe me,” Fu replied as he unconsciously squeezed his satchel, which contained the electronic tablet where his copy of the Grimoire was stored.

He stuck his hand in his pocket and stepped forward, handing Chat Noir a card with his cell phone number.

“Call me if you have any questions, either of you. Even if it’s the middle of the night. Wayzz will make sure I hear my phone if it rings; he’s a much lighter sleeper than I am.”

“Thank you, Master Fu,” replied Chat, smiling. “And thank you too, Wayzz.”

“Thanks, Wayzz. Thank you, Master.” said Ladybug.

“Also, I must remind you once again that your identities must remain a secret until things settle down. There are negative effects that could happen if you are revealed too soon, and I’m not sure what they could be; but it’s best not to find out.”

Ladybug frowned. “But when will that be, Master? It would be so much easier to be able to communicate without having to transform.”

Fu shrugged helplessly. “I’m afraid I don’t have an answer for that. We must allow things to continue to develop on their own. I'm sure we’ll know when the time is right.”

Ladybug let out a displeased sigh. Chat nodded, glancing away with a worried look in his eyes. Despite Ladybug’s eagerness (and despite his own curiosity), waiting suited him just fine for now.

After saying their goodbyes, Fu left the pair behind and let himself out with a final wave. The two heroes remained in the bedroom, contemplating what had been discussed.

After sitting in silence for a few moments, unsure of what to say next, a lightbulb seemed to light up inside Ladybug’s brain, and she began typing away into her yo-yo communicator. Chat watched curiously, wondering what she was up to.

Moments later, she hopped out of the bed to jot something down onto a sticky note from Chat’s desk, then walked back.

“Just because we can’t tell each other who we are doesn’t mean we shouldn’t be able to contact each other when we’re not transformed. Kwamis aren’t pagers, after all.”

“Pagers? What decade is this, anyway?” Chat razzed.

“Hush, you,” she mock scolded him, suppressing a smile. “ Anyway! Here’s my brand new, Chat Noir-exclusive email address,” she said, handing him the note with a wink.

Chat’s eyes lit up. “Wait, really??” He unfolded the paper as if it was a Christmas present, excited to read the contents. His eyes widened and he burst out laughing.

“ ‘The_gr8_bugaboo@yoohoo.com’ ?!”

“What, you don't think I’m great?” she teased, striking an exaggerated, Chat Noir-style pose.

Chat’s snickering only intensified and he nodded. “Oh, for sure! The greatest!” he agreed.

Ladybug smirked. “I made it just now,” she explained. “So you’re the only one who knows about it. We may not be able to hang out in person yet, but I’d still like to talk to you during the day. Plus, it’ll come in handy for emergencies.”

“Buginette you’re a genius!”

Ladybug giggled, feeling her face warm up despite herself. “M-maybe we can message each other when you have some free time? I mean… now that you don’t have to worry about getting akumatized in your own room anymore. Your bedroom’s pretty much the safest place in Paris now, thanks to Master Fu.”

“And thanks to you, as well, my dear ‘Lily-bug’,” Chat reached up to take her hand, gently pulling her down to sit next to him. “I feel much better already. And knowing I can talk to you anytime makes me feel even safer.”

She scooted closer, setting her head down on his shoulder. “Y-you know… you make me feel safe too, Kitty.”

Chat’s insides twisted into pleasant little knots, suddenly feeling rather warm. “Really?”

He felt her smile as her hand squeezed his arm, her other one sneaking across their laps to wrap her fingers around his own. “Yeah. I know we’ve only been allies for a short time, but I’ve already lost count of all the times you’ve saved me or sacrificed yourself to help others. Our partnership grows stronger every day, and I think Hawkmoth knows it. He knows we’re stronger together. And it’s only a matter of time until we can be together without these masks too, I just know it.”

He turned towards her, putting his fingers under her chin and lifting her head to have her look up at him. Their eyes met, her pupils dilating as they focused on his own, and he could see a bright blush blooming on her cheeks.

“Me too,” he whispered, as he brought their lips together.

She blissfully melted into him, letting out a small noise of contentment. She deepened the kiss, reaching behind his head to caress his hair with her slender fingers. Their kisses and breaths mingled together and they lost track of everything else around them.

A little while later, they faintly heard the grandfather clock striking the hour in the living room, then some noises as the Dupains shuffled upstairs from the bakery to get ready for bed.

Ladybug pulled back and they separated, his lips still tingling from her touch.

“I… I should probably get going soon,” she lamented with a small shrug. “It’s starting to get late.”

“Would you like me to walk you home? Or rather, to somewhere around your neighborhood?”

She shook her head. “That’s not necessary. Besides, I’m closer than you might think,” she added a bit cryptically.

“I wish you could stay,” he said softly, reaching up to tuck some hair behind her ear. He gave her nose a tiny smooch. “Just a teeeeensy bit more?” he begged, giving her the best kitten eyes he could muster.

Ladybug giggled shyly, cheeks still dusted with pink. She gave his own nose a peck, her lips soft and inviting. “Well… I guess I could stay just a little bit longer,” she said with a smirk.

“Purr- fect,” he said, capturing her lips once again.

-------------

Note:

Many of the events in the “Volpina” and “Collector” episodes happened in this AU, albeit heavily modified to suit the story. Adrien found the grimoire in his father’s safe, took it out to study it, and Lila stole it. Since Adrien didn’t act impressed about Lila knowing Ladybug, she didn’t magnify the lie and claim to be Ladybug’s best friend; therefore, Ladybug never showed up to call her out on her lie, and Lila was never akumatized.

However, Tikki did see the book in the dumpster and retrieved it, and Marinette showed it to Master Fu. After Gabriel discovered the book was missing and pulled Adrien out of school, Fu made a copy so that Marinette could return it to Gabriel, and Adrien was allowed to attend school again. Currently, Adrien has no idea that this is how Fu acquired his grimoire; he merely assumes that Fu has always had his own copy.

Of course, Marinette began to suspect that Gabriel might be Hawkmoth because he owned the grimoire. Gabriel akumatized himself into the Collector in order to avoid suspicion, and with Chat’s help, almost succeeded in obtaining the ladybug miraculous. Ultimately, Ladybug outsmarted him, got him to accidentally “collect” Chat, and succeeded in purifying his akuma. But by then, Gabriel had “proven” he was an innocent civilian and Ladybug dismissed his potential involvement as Hawkmoth.

----

P.S.  Another note: Certain things that are similar but not identical to canon have been in my outline since the beginning, so I apologize if they're a little confusing (such as the protection talismans being similar to Ladybug's akuma victims' lucky charms or the destruction/disappearance of the Guardian Temple)

[bloodycassian]

 Cauldron Damned. 

Reader x Cassian + Feyre BFF

Prompt -  bestie bestie bestie a cassian x reader fic where reader helps feyre with the cauldron - not rhys and she ya know  like rhys did and cassian basically breaks down and it’s super angsty but rhys lives so the reader gets to aswell ig tag @ bellefleurs and @ eerievixen

Her hair was a mess and painted to her neck with sweat but you still held her. Still gave and gave, until you were out of breath. Until you could feel yourself slipping. "Keep going.... You're doing so good." You panted out, trying to put a smile in your tone. She was the Mother herself, forging that cursed Cauldron back together.  Rhys was breathing heavily behind you after being knocked out by Lucien. You had given the Autumn court son a look and he had known what you needed him to do. Rhys would be snarling mad when he woke, but you knew what you had to do. To save your home, to save the entire world. Feyre was ready to risk it all, fearless and full of hope. You had to save that hope for your Court. Better you than her, better the high lady and lord survive than just an officer. You smiled at the thought of what you'd told Cassian before this final battle. Before you knew it would turn into saving the entire world from the Cauldron's vengeance.  "You better make damn sure my memorial statue looks fantastic. No priestess, though. Make sure it makes my wings stand out." You joked on the flight to the base camp. Cassian danced around death like he was it's balancing point. Like he was in tune with each and every death or life dealt. He laughed at your abruptness on the subject.  After months of skittering around each other, of trying not to stare too long or acknowledge that pull you felt towards him... It was nice to finally be alone. To let that tension ease out with a few jokes. It was too easy to be with him, like you'd known him much longer in the year of preparation for this battle.  "And you better make sure my wings are bigger than yours on that sculpture." He banked around a large cliffside and you followed, like a magnet. Like you could read his mind, you turned when he did. He rose with you, compensating for the cool mountain wind.  You rolled your eyes dramatically, flapping a bit higher than him for emphasis as you drawled out "Poor War General, his wing size matters so much to him." He shrugged, circling lower and lower with you until you were on the ground together amid a clearing. The grass was soft, covered in early morning dew. "Some say wing size dosen't matter, you know." You said with a wink, making him double over with laughter. It made you begin laughing too when he started running out of breath.  Once you had both collected yourselves, You began building a fire together. Rather, a massive bonfire that was to act as the signal to the army for where to move. His face was grim when he threw the last of the logs together. You understood why. "The Kings army will be here before us." You said, voice low. He only nodded. You kneeled in the wet grass, one knee down the other one supporting your wrist bracer. He followed you silently.  You spoke in unison, the ancient words from all the Illyrian warriors before you: "Name me God of Death today. Let us bring that name to those who do us wrong." + Feyre muttered something you couldn't hear. The darkness crept further in on you. You could see some light between your blurred vision. You could see how her hands lit up the cracks in the ancient stonework. You could feel her practically vibrating with the strain.  Your tears dribbled on to her shoulder, knowing these would be your final moments with her. Your final moments in this world. There was no better way you'd spend it than saving her. Spending those last few minutes being able to tell her how amazing she was. You felt her smile when you leaned your head against hers. Your heart ached. You whispered what you hoped were encouraging words in her ear. A rupture of sound- a crack fully mended -and your chest filled with blooming pride at your friend.  There was something crackling, ripping. You weren't sure if it was inside you or if it was the magic Feyre was performing. There was a gasp behind you and rustling, but you dared not take your concentration away from her. Away from how she leaned back into you. Dared not speak a word to distract her other than giving her those little jabs of confidence when she started to shake.  "You got it, Feyre. You can do this." You managed, before that caving feeling in your chest seemed to give in. You were breaking, you knew that much. But she wasn't done yet. Your breath leaked out from you, like you were being squeezed.  "Make it all worth it, Feyre." You managed to whisper out before you could no longer hold yourself up anymore. You laid back, your legs wrapped around her, mirroring her own. You hooked a foot on top of hers and gave her what you could from where you crumpled.  Death was easy, slow. Like a soft lullaby taking you away. You knew what lay before your body, and only hoped you were enough to get Feyre to where she could mend the rest on her own. You gave her all of your soul, all your being. She had to make it. You let the wave of that soft lullaby take you under.  + Cassian didnt think before shoving his way through the crowd into the tent. Didnt consider what he might find there, and how his heart may be ripped from him at the sight of it. The death that crept at that tent was a feeling he wouldnt forget in a thousand lifetimes.  His best friends lying unconscious on the floor before the cauldron. He went numb, still like a cold glacier. Lucien frantically shook Rhys, attempting to wake him. Cassian's head roared and he was falling to his knees at your side. He took your head in his lap, gently. As if he could still hurt you. He didn't notice he was crying until he saw the fat teardrops on your cheek. He wiped them away, leaving dirt smeared there. Another yell of anguish, and Rhys was coming to. From the sound of the yelling or from Lucien shaking him.  Azriel entered the tent then, solemn. Then his eyes widened. Those shadows darted around the room, taking each member of the court into account. The shadowmaster rushed to Feyre, checking her pulse and sighing. He noted the way your leg tangled around hers. His heart gave a painful squeeze. He saw both his brothers in agony. And he swore on his life there would be no place for the cauldron to be found again. Cassian cradled his mate's head in his lap, rocking gently. Rhys' dark power cracked the sky outside the tent once he was conscious.  Rhys rushed to Feyre, scooping her in his arms. He brushed her hair back from her face. Azriel could practically hear the mental screaming coming from both of them. The shadowmaster laid a hand on top of yours, closing his eyes and letting his tendrils of power, of those whispering shadows reach out. They circled your head, slowly like a snake.  He felt that song then, singing back with his own. The essence of your soul, dancing around your aura.  His eyes flashed open in surprise, then a manic laugh rumbled from his chest. "Rhys-" He breathed, pulling his attention away from a waking Feyre. Cassian looked up in a flash at his brothers, watching them exchange looks.  "Bring my mate back now." Cassian growled at Rhys. The tone was utterly deadly. Promises of death from the Lord of Bloodshed if his command was not answered. Azriel's eyes darted between his brothers. As if he was expecting Cassian to attack. The high lord would have been gaping at him if he hadn't experienced the same pain of almost losing a mate. He nodded, pulling himself together long enough to enter your vacant mind. Then the cauldron was humming, as he dipped a mental hand into it as well. +  Rhys' commanding voice rang out over your land of lavender and sunshine. "She will miss you." His voice was soft, but the attention it drew was still there. The meadow you laid in was softer than any silk in Velaris. More luxurious than any chair made to accompany your wings. You sighed, taking in the sweet scent before he spoke again.  "Too much, I believe. Especially when she hears about what you did to save her." He appeared at the edge of the soft meadow, the grass around him waving like the sea. You sat up, dazzled at the sight of him here. In such a bright, lovely place. His tanned face seemed to glow with the smile he held for you. "I'm tired." You said, voice groggy. You wanted to lay back down. You closed your eyes, for just a second and when you opened again he was in front of you, crouched. He held a tattooed hand out, giving you a nod. "Just come with me and you can nap all you want." His eyes sparkled. Not with that starlit power, but with tears ready to spill over.  You took that hand and closed your eyes.  + Feyre's warm hand in yours was the first thing you felt when you woke. Rhys held her in the corner atop a pelt rug beside you. The brothers leaned against each other. Rhys played with Feyre's hair as she rested. The sight of them together, him protecting her so well made your heart sing in approval. you knew she always deserved someone as good as Rhys. The fire where the Cauldron once was made the tent cozy. There were no sounds other than the soft breathing and the occasional pop of wood on the fire.   Azriel sat at the door, sword on his lap. Ready to kill if anyone dared enter. Then, you looked to the softness that cradled you. Cassian's face was covered in dirt, blood and more. He looked exhausted. Like he had been beaten, lost and beaten again. You tried a weak smile at him.  Clean rivers ran down from his eyes, revealing the dark skin underneath. "I couldn't let you get a statue without me." He said, voice trembling. You smiled the best you could and reached a hand to stroke his cheek.  "How-" You began, but he shushed you. "Just..rest for now. We can talk in the morning." He brushed a thumb over a silent tear that trickled from your eye. You nodded, and let him pull the blanket more firmly around you. Lulling you to sleep with soft humming.

[heliads]

A Ruse By Any Other Name

Pietro Maximoff has just discovered the occupant of the HYDRA cell next to his- another Sokovian survivor of the experiments. Y/N L/N can tell any lie, convince someone to do anything she wishes. All Pietro can think about, however, is the life they could have together.

masterlist

There is no way out of this cell. Pietro knows this, but it doesn’t stop him from trying. He’s been given this accursed gift, he should at least be able to do something to leave. He slams against the walls with enough of an impact to shake the ceiling; nothing happens. He’s tried this enough times for bruises to cover him like freckles, but even those disappear faster than they should. No matter what he tries, the walls remain.

It feels unfair, somehow, like if he’s been giving this raging pulse and this overwhelming need to run he should have a place to do it. You gave this to me, he wants to shout, now take it back or at least make it feel like I don’t want to tear myself apart. Pietro knows that if he says anything like this they’ll drag him back to the labs and it’ll be even worse than before. So he keeps his mouth shut, and lets his frequent attempts to escape do the talking for him.

There’s a resulting thump on the other side of the wall, and he falls quiet for a second. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that he isn’t alone. All Pietro knows is the rough mess of a schedule that has become his life as a test subject of HYDRA- some days in the labs, most of the time spent in this cell unless he’s deemed useful enough to be allowed out into the field. Even then, on those scarce days of reprieve, they’re careful to keep him out of sight so the Avengers and S.H.I.E.L.D. won’t pick up on his presence and try to stop him. Otherwise, they’ll send over a team to kill everyone in the vicinity and call it justice.

No, Pietro isn’t alone. On one side of his cell is another containment block, one that holds his twin sister Wanda. She doesn’t share his same speed, his same need to move and move until his feet are raw and bleeding. He’s seen the way she can manipulate the objects around her, twisting minds like they���re toys in a display. It should scare him, he supposes, yet he just feels numb about it. She is Wanda, she would never hurt him. Not unless they made her, and no one has ever been able to make Wanda do something she doesn’t want to do. Not now.

He’s making it sound like they didn’t want this, like they weren’t volunteers. Pietro and Wanda were the ones to show up at HYDRA’s door, asking for a chance to turn their ghosts into weapons and their dirty palms into those of saints. People have failed them over and over again, it felt like time to tip the scales back the other way. HYDRA hadn’t said a word, just welcomed them in and locked the door behind them. Sometimes, Pietro wonders if he would have changed his mind had he known the full extent of what they’d undergo. Would they stay away? Or would they have come anyway, knowing there was nothing left for them but broken houses and the bodies of their parents right next to that bomb?

Pietro and Wanda aren’t the only HYDRA volunteers to survive, however. There is one more: a girl, one about their age. Pietro has never seen her in person, only heard the rumors in pieces and snatches from security guards whose usually stoic silence is broken by nervous chatter. Her name is Y/N L/N, although the guards all call her the Ruse. She has powers not unlike Wanda, in that she can manipulate people’s minds, but the similarities end there. Y/N’s powers have an entirely different edge, something that can convince the toughest of guards that they have something to fear.

The Ruse got her name because of her powers. She can convince you of anything, get you to believe any lie no matter how false. They say she whispers things into your head, can make you believe that your family is out to kill you and that your lover has poisoned your mind. With just a second’s concentration, she can rewrite your entire head and convince you to do anything she wants. That could involve giving her information, selling out an organization, killing a thousand people before you knew it. Pietro sometimes wonders if her victims know what’s going on while she’s controlling them, if they’re silently screaming even as their trigger finger tightens. Then a shiver runs over him, and he forces himself to stop thinking about it at all.

HYDRA allows the Ruse into the field more often than Pietro or Wanda, using her as a spy and a mercenary and whatever else they can think of. She has considerably more freedom, if you could call it that, because HYDRA’s taken another precaution with her. They’ve experimented with the old Winter Soldier programs, placing basic mind control over her. HYDRA can make sure she only tells the lies they want to spread, and that she has no way to control any of them. And so it is that the spider is caught by the web, that the one with the power to spin any lie is trapped by one greater than herself.

There’s a loud sound in the hallways, pairs of boots thudding down the hall. Through the barred window on the cell door, Pietro can see them dragging someone through the corridor. A guard steps forward to unlock Y/N’s cell, then they throw her unceremoniously through the door. The lock shuts with a click, and all guards leave the block, presumably to check with an official to make sure she hasn’t caught them within any lies.

There’s quiet for a long time, and then Pietro hears something else. It’s barely there at all, and he wouldn’t have noticed it were it not for the inhuman abilities given to him by HYDRA. To be honest, it almost sounds like somebody is crying. Pietro slows down for once in his life, crossing the cell hesitantly until he stands before the wall neighbouring Y/N’s cell.

Over the past few hours, Pietro has found a hole in the wall, a chink in the cinderblock and concrete where you can see through to the other side. It’s about the size of his fist, disguised by a low-hanging scrap of material. Pietro pushes it aside, allowing him to see Y/N for the first time. When his eyes first fall on her, he draws in a breath sharply.

She’s beautiful. Pietro doesn’t know what he had thought she would look like- cruel, maybe calculating, a glint in her eye that never seemed to fade? How do you portray the Ruse? But the girl slumped against the cell wall before him doesn’t seem like a villain, somebody who scares everyone in HYDRA’s payroll. No, she just looks afraid.

She must have heard him, because her head falls away from her hands and she looks up at him. When she speaks, her voice is quiet, cracked from the tears. “Are you Pietro?” Pietro nods. “Sorry to spy on you. I just wanted to make sure you were alright.” Pietro isn’t sure what he was expecting she’d say, but he doesn’t anticipate what she does next. She laughs bitterly, leaning her head back against the wall.

“I’m not. Not at all.” She lets her gaze drift from the ceiling back to him. “I don’t know what’s real. I don’t know anything at all. I’ve told so many lies and had so many more pumped into my head that I don’t know what way is up. Nothing makes sense, because everything I can remember contradicts itself. I don’t even know who I am. I’m the Ruse, I guess, but I don’t even know what that means.”

Pietro listens to her, feeling his spirits sink in sympathy. “You’re Y/N L/N. You’re a spy, and you’ll be able to work through this because you’ve been working through this for as long as you’ve been here.” Y/N sighs. “I’ve been breaking apart as long as I’ve been here, and I don’t think I can figure things out again. There are so many stories in my head, Pietro, and I don’t think any of them are true. If I say something and I believe it, is it true or am I using my powers? Nothing makes sense.”

It’s hard to look at this utterly broken girl in front of him and think that this is the all-powerful Ruse that has the directors of HYDRA quaking in their polished boots. Pietro doesn’t know what to say, and he tells her as much. Y/N chuckles. “Well, I don’t think anyone could know. I can get in your head, but you can’t get in mine.” She squints at him now. “Why did you check on me in the first place? Aren’t you scared that I’m going to control your mind like everyone else?”

Pietro shrugs. “I don’t know what you could do to me that hasn’t already happened. I can’t leave the base, I already have powers, there’s nobody I could hurt except myself and I heal pretty quickly. It’s kind of my thing.” Y/N smiles at that, a genuine smile. Pietro doesn’t think he’s seen it all day, and he wishes he could tell another joke so he could see it again. Y/N might not know what’s true and what’s not, but Pietro knows that she’s the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen when she smiles at him like that.

Y/N clears her throat. “Tell you what, Pietro, if we ever get out of here I’ll think about what you said. Figure things out and whatnot. Keep moving forward.” Pietro smiles ruefully. “That sounds pretty good. I might even walk instead of run.” Y/N snorts. “That’s a little extreme, Maximoff. Don’t go making promises you can’t keep.” The sound of approaching guards makes Pietro hurriedly duck back into his cell, but he still thinks to himself that he’d give up all of his powers and then some if it means that he could have a future with Y/N away from HYDRA. They may have just met, but it feels like he could spend a lifetime with her.

When Pietro and Wanda meet Ultron, the first thing he thinks is that it’s a way out. If they go with him, they can escape HYDRA, turn their backs on the labs and the tests and the sinking knowledge that by signing up they may have made the worst mistake of their lives. His second thought is that when he and Wanda don’t return, he’s damning Y/N to stay at that facility until the end of her days. It cuts at him like a knife, a guilt that he can’t quite shake.

Ultron promises many things. Power, legacy, a chance to rebuild. All of it calls to Pietro in the same way that HYDRA’s programs called to him all that time ago. He’s terrified of making another mistake, and finds him wishing that he could turn to Y/N and ask her what she thought. Y/N has seen a thousand decisions being made, and had a hand in most of them. She tends to have some pretty good advice on what to do, and Pietro could use her voice right now.

In the end, he makes the choice himself. They decide to throw their lot in with Ultron, turning their backs on HYDRA and opening a door to the future ahead. When this doesn’t work out, they switch to the Avengers like handing off a baton. There’s a fight coming, a fight that Pietro knows has a pretty good chance of turning south. If he dies, there’s something he wants to do first.

When he tells Wanda his plan, she thinks it’s a terrible idea. “You want to go back to the HYDRA facilities? If they caught us, they would kill us.” Pietro shrugs. “That’s why we won’t get caught.” Wanda had rolled her eyes, telling him that she would haunt him forever if his stupid idea got them killed, but in the end she had agreed to go along with it. That’s how Pietro and Wanda ended up breaking into the HYDRA base, or specifically the cell block along the southern perimeter. 

The bonus of having lived there is that Pietro knows which guards have the keys and which don’t, when to time a break-in so that the guards are still on rotation and won’t find them, and the exact cell where Y/N is locked away. When he opens the door, she stares at him for a second, then runs over and flings her arms around him. “I thought you were gone for good.” Then she steps back, doubt creeping over her. “Is it really you, or is this just something they’ve made up to mess with me?”

It hurts Pietro to think that HYDRA would use him against her, so he gestures towards his head. “Check and find out. I promise, it’s me. I’m getting you out of here.” She grins at him, a wild grin full of hope and excitement that she’ll finally have the life they both dreamed of on the nights they couldn’t sleep for the nightmares. Pietro picks her up in his arms, running as fast as he can to pass by the guards before they can even draw another breath.

They come to a stop outside the facility, Wanda joining them shortly thereafter. Y/N flashes her a smile. “Thanks for the rescue.” Wanda waves the gratitude away. “Don’t thank me, it was all Pietro’s idea. He practically begged me to come help you out.” Pietro’s about to chide Wanda for saying this, but when Y/N turns to him with a beaming look he feels like he could break into a hundred more HYDRA facilities just to prove it to her that he could.

They both end up joining the Avengers for the fight. Y/N refuses to leave if they need to defend the city against Ultron, especially if Pietro will be there. “You just saved me from HYDRA. I can’t leave you here to fight alone.” Pietro shrugged, saying that as long as she remained safe he would be alright with it, but secretly he couldn’t be happier that she was staying. They’re out now, out for good. He doesn’t want to leave her side for a second.

The fight against Ultron is difficult to say the least. Ultron summons up hundreds of drones out of nowhere, which swarm the streets like insects. Pietro, Y/N, and the rest of the Avengers take them down as soon as they appear, but it feels like they’re fighting on borrowed time. How long until there are too many, and a wave of metal robots chokes out the sky from above him?

At last, the fight looks like it will be over. They’ve managed to get the last of the refugees onto the ships, and Y/N is seconds away from boarding one herself. Pietro’s about to join her, and then he looks over his shoulder and sees them. Clint, who’d made sure Pietro could join the Avengers in the first place, and the child he’s carrying to safety. Pietro also sees the ship swooping over them, the bullets about to hit them.

Time seems to slow down. Pietro knows what he has to do to save them, the only choice he has. It’s the only way to pay Clint back for saving him, for saving Wanda. They’ll be able to make it after this. He has time to wish that Y/N will forgive him for this, and then he’s gone, twisting through the street just in time to block the bullets. Clint’s head is ducked as he prepares for the metal to tear through his flesh, but he looks up with a startled look as no impact occurs. Pietro manages a cocky grin. “Didn’t see that coming?”

Then the pain hits, and he collapses to the ground. There are too many bullets for him to heal, too many to save him. Pietro can hear a scream, and he realizes it’s Y/N. He wants to tell her that he’s sorry, but he can’t find the words. She’s kneeling next to him now, and he can see the tears glistening in her eyes. Even like this, pain lacing her every feature, she’s still just as beautiful as the first time he’d seen her.

Pietro can feel his heart rate slowing, stopping. Y/N gets this look in her eyes of panic, of fear. She cradles his head in her hands, forcing him to look at her. When she speaks, her voice seems charged with some kind of power. It’s unlike anything he’s ever heard before. “You are going to be alright. Your wounds are going to heal, and you are going to survive.” Her gaze is captivating, impossible to ignore. For some reason, Pietro listens, and for some reason, his wounds start to close up.

He can feel the flesh reknitting, but it makes no sense. He died, or he should have. Why is he healing now, why is he standing up and taking in another lungful of air? He goes to take a step, then stumbles. Y/N catches him, and he draws her close. He can feel her sobbing in his arms, but they’re aren’t sobs of sorry anymore- they’re of relief. Pietro forces himself to speak. “How did you do that? I thought I was dead.”

Y/N speaks through her tears. “You were dead. I just needed you to stay alive, so I used my powers, I guess.” She looks up at him, and Pietro realizes that she’s nervous, as if afraid that he’ll be disgusted by this display of powers and move away from her. Instead, he draws her closer. “You’re amazing, Y/N. Honestly. You saved my life.” She lets out something between a laugh and a sob. “Just don’t ask me to do it again.”

Pietro grins, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Don’t worry about that. I don’t intend on dying anytime soon. We have a future to plan, remember?” Y/N smiles up at him. “How could I forget?”

marvel taglist: @mycosmicparadise​

[even-after-a-millennia]

The Freeman's and Firsts

My first fic for @nilefreemanweek2021 and the prompt Nile Freeman + First(s)! You can read it below or over on my ao3 account here. Nile-centric | Rated G | ~1.7k Enjoy!

Nile jerked awake, her eyes opening and lungs heaving.  She forced her body to remain still, to not jolt upright.  She instinctively started taking deeper breaths, trying to calm her racing heart.  After six months of immortality and the dreams that came with being connected to Quynh, she had gotten better at moderating her body’s reactions to her nightmares.

It was her mind that would not calm.

With a sigh, she eased herself out of bed.  Joe and Nicky were sleeping in the bed opposite her, Andy unconscious closer to the wall in Nile’s bed.  The safehouse was small, but it had a balcony, and suddenly that was the only place that Nile wanted to be.

She snuck out of the bedroom and across the living room, doing her best to keep quiet on the creaking floorboards.  The door to the balcony squeaked as she opened it and she winced, stopping it for a moment and listening.

There were no noises that indicated she had woken anyone, so she slipped out the small gap she had created and into the cold night air beyond.

The balcony wasn’t much, but it did boast a few chairs and a rickety table whose screws could probably use a tightening.  Nile sank into one of the chairs and pulled her feet onto the seat with her.  The sun was just an idea on the horizon, barely a faint glow of orange to be seen, and the early morning air was cold against her skin.

She needed that.  Needed the cold to ground her where she was, in a safehouse with her fellow immortals.  Not the heat of Afghanistan, the warmth of the floor under her as her blood soaked into the rug.

She continued to breathe, holding her breath for seven counts before she released it.  Slowly, her body calmed.  And all she suddenly felt was exhaustion.

The sky was slowly brightening, reds bleeding into the black and blue of night.  She tried to catalog the colors, so that she could recreate the moment some time later on canvas.  But her mind pulled her back to her dream no matter how many times she tried to redirect it.

The door squeaked but Nile didn’t turn to see who it was.  Any of her family would be a welcome distraction at the moment, but she felt a pang of guilt at waking any of them.

A blanket settled around her shoulders and a cup of hot coffee materialized before her.

“Two sugars and a splash of milk,” Nicky’s soft voice said.

Just how she liked it.

She turned to him as she took the mug from his hand.  He looked barely awake, his eyes slightly puffy with sleep still.  But he had taken the time to make coffee for her, get a blanket.

She swallowed, slightly undone with affection for him.  “Thank you, Nicky.”

“Prego,” he replied, sinking into the closest chair to hers.

“I hope I didn’t wake you,” she said, cuddling the warm cup close to her.  Between that and the blanket, she was feeling warmer, but luckily, no memories tried to upset the moment.

He shook his head.  “Many nights, I try to wake to check on the room.  Usually, I can drift back off quickly.  But when you were not there, I worried.  We have seen our share of bad nights.  They are easier when not alone.”

Nile sniffed, then reasoned that the steam from her coffee had made her nose run.  She nodded, taking a sip.

“Would you like to talk about it?” he asked, staring at the burgeoning sun.

Maybe it was because he wasn’t looking at her, that she was able to speak.

“When my dad died, I missed school for a few days.  Even when I got back, I wasn’t really there.  My grades suffered and I ended up in my guidance counselor’s office.  She said something to me that I will never forget.  Well, hopefully,” she said drily, remembering the vastness of time available to her.

“She said that after something traumatic happens, like losing a family member, you go through a year of firsts.  Big ones, like the first holidays without them.  Small ones, like the first time you want to call them, only remember they aren’t there to pick up.  A whole year of constantly remembering that your life is irrevocably changed.”

She sipped the coffee and let the warm run down her throat, savoring the feeling of its heat in her stomach.

“That first year was so hard, I wasn’t sure we would all get through it.  But we did.  Even after that year came big moments, though, times I thought my dad would be there for.  Prom, graduation.  Birthdays.  And I realized that it wasn’t just firsts.  It was those moments when all you want is your family surrounding you.  And suddenly, there was this gaping hole where he was supposed to be.  To take pictures of me and my prom date.  To cheer as I walked across the graduate stage.”

Nile pulled the blanket closer around her and surreptitiously wiped her eyes with the corner of it.

The first glimpse of the sun broke over them, illuminating Nicky’s face.  His eyes were more open, more awake now as he looked at her.  His brow was lowered, not in anger but in concentration, as if every word that came out of her mouth had weight and importance.

Like he was trying to understand her more than anything else in that moment.

She smiled a bit at him even as he got blurry behind the tears in her eyes.

“This whole experience reminds me of that.  I am suddenly the gaping hole in my mom and my brother’s lives.  I should be there for birthdays and big moments and small ones.  And I’m here, knowing what that feels like, knowing I’m responsible for them feeling that way, and not fixing it.  I don’t even know if there is a way how.  And it overwhelms me sometimes.”

Nicky nodded, looking back at the sun.  

It was halfway visible now, harder to look at in its brightness.

“Were there good firsts in that year?” Nicky asked.

Nile considered.  That time felt hazy and endless in her mind, a place that she only visited in her darkest moments.  

“A bunch of ladies from our church would make us a hotdish every week, so that we would have guaranteed meals.  I didn’t want to see tater tot hotdish again in my lifetime until I was eighteen.  I finally made us spaghetti one night just to be able to have something different.  It was the first night my mom laughed since my dad’s death, once I explained why I had done it,” she finally said.

Nicky snorted a laugh.  She grinned faintly back at him.

“Miss Temple from down the street came with her son, who was about my age, and he and my brother Jordan played basketball on the sidewalk as she, my mom, and I sat in the grass and she did our nails.  She worked at the salon my mom went to.  It was just before the funeral.  We both had beautiful nails for the service.  I kept looking down at them while people were talking.  They made me want to paint.  It was the first time I had thought about art since we found out he was gone.”

Miss Temple had been adamant about not using black nail polish.  She had painted Nile’s nails blue and her mother’s purple, both so dark they looked black until they hit the light.  Nile remembered using the lights in the church to illuminate the color of her nails, to show herself they weren’t just black.  That there was still color, even as her father was being put into the ground.

“A girl at my school had lost her mom the year before.  Cancer.  She ended up sitting next to me at lunch my first day back.  We hadn’t talked much before, but everyone else was avoiding talking to me.  I was sitting by myself and suddenly, she set down her tray next to me and started talking about what I had missed in the class we shared.  I think she knew that I needed to not talk about my dad,” Nile admitted.  “She made me laugh, catching me up on all the shit that had gone on while I was gone.  Some stupid story, but it was funny enough to get a laugh out of me.  Another first.”

“There’s more, but those stand out.  Little kindnesses.  Little moments.”

Nicky nodded.  “A few centuries into my immortality, it surprised me how many of those little moments were still present in my memories.  The first time Yusuf and I broke bread together without bickering.  The first time I slept through the night without memories haunting me.  The first time a child looked at me and smiled, rather than shrinking away.  They add up in such a way that makes the awful moments fade slightly.  Balance.  I am glad of them.  It would be a much more miserable existence without them.”

It was Nile’s turn to nod.

She let her mind wander back on her life since she had gained immortality.  Yes, there were awful moments of death and violence and loss.  But there was the first time she had disarmed Andy and the proud look in her eyes as Nile whooped in victory.  The first time she and Joe had painted together, music playing in the background as they lost themselves in colors.  The first time that Nicky had made her coffee just how she liked it, though he had never asked.  

So many little moments that added up to so much.

The sun began to warm her as she sat there in silence with Nicky, mind finally settled into the moment filled with coffee, companionship, and, finally, contentment.  There were still many firsts to come, but she knew that she wouldn’t have to face them alone.

[2jaeh]

TEACH ME I  TEN LEE

Genre: smut, mature themes

Warnings: corruption!kink

Stripper!Ten , Innocent!Reader

Word Count: 2,2k

Author SIN

What happens when the best dancer at your club offers you an offer of a lifetime, a lap dance, private and free off charge..

—————————————————————————

“Table number 4” you heard the bartender call while your eyes were fixated on the crew setting up the stage in front of you. “Oh, yeah” you received the tray of drinks from him and sauntered over to a table in the far left corner.

You cleared your throat as you noticed the person who you were serving was your boss Miya, the owner of the club and a handsome young man dressed in a red leather suit. “Oh Ten! You dont know y/n right ? she's new here” Miya pulled out a chair for you to take a seat.

“H-hi” you nodded nervously as the red suited man's lips turned into a cat-like grin.

“This is Ten Lee” Miya introduced, “He used to work here a few years ago until he became famous” You watched as the man became bashful and shook his head, “I'm not famous, I'm just getting started.”

“Y-you were a waiter or-” your words were cut off by Ten’s laughter as he marvelled at your innocence. What was a girl like you doing in an all-male strip club ?

“Ten was our highest priced dancer, usually booked for the expensive bachelorette parties” Your boss explained as you mentally dissed yourself for even thinking he could've been a waiter.

You were extremely new to this world after all. One of your uni friends had you cover for her at this club not too long ago and the boss took a liking to you. She admired your patience with the drunk women who cried in the bathroom stalls and how you always worked hard even if the club barely had customers.

“Hey, I'll be with you in a bit Ten, I need to meet with the bridal party.” Your boss excused herself and jogged over to her office.

You sat in silence, your head down as you watched your fingers twirl in your lap. You knew he was staring at you. Ten scooted in the chair next to you and you heard him sip on his drink and exhale deeply,

“Ever had a lap dance y/n ?”

Ten sucked in his bottom lip and you felt your heartbeat race as he placed his arm on your chair, his eyes narrowed and his smile turned into a smirk,

“Babygirl you're so cute, do I intimidate you ?”

“I'm just a little awkward I guess” you tried to ignore the little pet name he had given you but it sent chills down your spine. Ten’s demeanor changed and his eyes seemed softer, he swiveled his body to face you and his bright smile shone in the dim lighting.

“I'm here for a special request, there's a rich bride who hired me and I'm going to be performing for her” Ten explained, you could see the excitement in his eyes like a kid in a candy store, “I want you to watch my performance”

“-but I’ll be working tonight-”

“No no, I’ll tell Miya to give you a chance to be part of the audience” Ten waved his hand and chugged his drink, “It’s not everyday I get a first time viewer, especially one thats as innocent as you”

“I have watched the shows before…” you swallowed as you noticed his eyes had darkened again.

“Yeah but you haven't watched me, now have you ?” Ten wet his bottom lip with his tongue and reached for your hand, “I’ll tell you what, if you enjoy it I’ll give you a private dance free of charge”

Your eyes widened at his offer. What does a star performer like him want to do with someone like you ?

“W-why ?” you managed to say,

“I dont know y/n you're just so goddamn cute it drives me crazy.”

The club lights finally turned on and it glimmered shades of pink and purple as the bridal party made themselves comfortable up front, already on their third round of drinks. You were amazed that women indulged in things like this much like men, but this atmosphere was better, more wholesome. It was one of the reasons you decided to take the job. You were quite awkward being open sexually, and everyday you learnt from the women who came in that it was nothing to be ashamed of.

“Okay ladies, now you know you're in for a treat” Miya said into a microphone as she walked onto the stage. The women went crazy, already pulling out stacks of cash from their designer bags and gathered around the stage in anticipation.

The lights dimmed and you nervously took a seat just behind the bridal party as requested by Ten and pursed your lips, not knowing what to expect.

A sultry beat filled the room, you could feel the bass under your feet as the women screamed their heads off when a few regular strippers gathered on stage in police uniforms. The men danced around, discarding various pieces of clothing but this was all too familiar to you. Nothing really stood out from other shows that you had seen until Ten appeared.

Ten emerged from the smoke, dressed in black leather pants and a matching jacket that showed off his bare chest adorned with a harness. He pushed back his hair as he slowly walked down the runway, the screams from the women obviously not being new to him. Ten got down to his knees as he looked over the bride-to-be, his eyes were mischievous as he slowly rid himself of his jacket and threw it into her lap. You watched intently as he ran his hand down his body, pushing his head back as if he were in ecstasy by his own touch.

You were hypnotized, watching his every move as he swayed his body along with the music and touched himself in the process. It felt so dirty to watch but you couldn't help yourself, you were intrigued, you wanted more. Ten wasn't as naked as the rest of the men yet you could tell that all eyes were on him and him only. He climbed up the pole, moving his hips against it, making love to it in front of everyone. You unconsciously squeezed your thighs together as you noticed his eyes on you for a brief second as his feet reached the floor and began grinding on the pole.

You felt light headed to the point of rushing to the bar and grabbing a glass of water, not realizing that the show had now come to an end and Ten was nowhere to be seen.

“He’s good huh” The bartender chuckled as you cooled yourself down,

“Oh yeah he’s really good” you sighed and you heard a snicker come from behind you.

“Well thank you” Ten grabbed a glass of water from the bartender and leaned on the counter to face you, “ready for that lap dance ?”

You found yourself nodding and Ten smirked, holding out his hand “Shall we ?” You took his hand and he led you upstairs where the private rooms were located. You never had a chance to check them out since they were rarely booked out because they were so ridiculously priced.

“Baby can I ask you one more question ?” Ten purred as he set you on the fluffy pink couch and stroked your cheek as you looked up to him and nodded,

“Y-yeah sure”

“Are you a virgin ?”

You shook your head and Ten raised his eyebrow, “Oh baby is a little naughty then ?”

You felt your face burn up and shook your head, “It was only with my ex-boyfriend and we didn't do…..much”

Ten placed a kiss on your hands and made his way to the cd player, ready to pick out a song. You sat awkwardly as he removed his jacket, standing in the middle of the room with just his leather pants and harness.

“Dont worry, I’ll only fuck you if you ask me nicely” he smirked, you swallowed hard as he swayed his hips and made his way over to you. Ten smirked as you sunk into the couch, your eyes practically devouring him as he danced slowly and sultry, concentrating on his hip movements as you bit down on your lip.

Ten got down on his knees and his hooded eyes locked with yours as he continued to sway to the music and his hands danced lightly over your thighs sending you into a frenzy. He pushed your legs apart and used his hands to lift himself off the floor until he was hovering over you, his eyes scanning every part of your body.

You leaned back so he could straddle you, allowing him to grind his body against you until you felt every part of him. “You can touch me if you want y/n” he whispered into your ear and you already found your hands on his waist, enamoured by how perfect his body was.

Ten wrapped his hand lightly around your throat and looked at your lips, waiting for a confirmation from you. Already nodding, Ten pressed his lips against yours passionately, literally and figuratively taking your breath away.

“Ten-I want you to…” you tried to speak against his rough kisses.

“Want me to what baby, use your words” he growled against your ear,

“What you said earlier….I want you to-”

“I said use your words tell me what you want me to do or else you won't get it babygirl” Ten squeezed your throat a little harder, smirking when he heard your pretty moan for the first time.

“I want you...to fuck...me” you finally said softly, Ten groaned at the sweetness in your voice. It sounded so innocent yet so vile at the same time and he couldn't contain himself any longer.

Ten ripped open your white dress shirt and skillfully pulled off your trousers, leaving you on the couch in just your matching lilac underwear. His smirk grew as you slowly reached for his pants, helping him unbuckle it.

He discarded his pants and propped your legs up on the couch as you sat there, spread open for him, wanting him. Ten got to his knees and took the sight in, the way he looked at you was absolutely filthy. He cocked his head to the side and took a seat on the floor, resting his hands behind him as he stared at you,

“Take off your underwear and touch yourself”

You swallowed hard at his words, you had never done something like this before and just him watching you like this made you slightly nervous. You played with the hem of your underwear and you noticed how intently he watched you, eager eyes and wet lips waited for you.

You gathered up the courage and slipped them off, bringing your fingers between your legs and hesitantly began to please yourself.

“You don't like to be touched, or do you want me to do it ?” Ten’s dark eyes bore into yours, “do you want me to teach you how to do it?”

Without giving him an answer Ten got in between your legs and his hands ghosted over your inner thighs, sending a shiver down your spine. He watched your eyes close as his fingers inched closer to your heat, dancing around but not close enough to where you needed him to be.

“Please” you whimpered as he teased you, placing soft kisses on your thighs as his finger finally entered you and your beautiful moan echoed throughout the room. Ten slowly withdrew his finger and inserted it at an agonizing pace, adding another when he felt you shift in your spot in frustration.

“Someones in a rush” he cooed as he slowly fingered you, bringing you to your breaking point multiple times. Ten finally decided to quit his games and pushed his fingers into your mouth as he used his free hand to discard his boxers.

Once you licked him clean Ten positioned himself in front of you with his tip at your entrance. “If it's too much tell me to stop okay, I can be a bit….rough” he ran his fingers through his hair and winked at you.

He pushed himself into you with one thrust and you threw your head back practically screaming his name. Unlike his fingers he wasted no time in bringing you to your climax with his fast sharp movements, hitting that sweet spot every single time.

You felt your orgasm build up rapidly and you threw your hands around his neck as he only moved faster, the room filled with your whimpers and his soft grunts. Ten dug his nails into your waist as he came undone with you, it had been a while that he actually felt that type of euphoria, and all he wanted was more, more of you.

“There's a lot I need to teach you y/n” Ten sighed as he took a seat on the couch and pulled you onto his lap, “Do you want to learn from me?”

You nodded already feeling yourself wanting him inside you again,

“Good girl.”

[kokomochi]

𝐃𝐄𝐉𝐀 𝐕𝐔 | 𝐤𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐡𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞

"𝙞'𝙢 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚, 𝙛𝙞𝙣𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮."

years have passed and just when you thought that ten years are enough for her to forget her first love- it wasn't, nor does it look like she'll move on anytime soon. with her business spiraling down, her father hired her a new secretary in hopes to save the business. what she and her secretary thought was a simple office relationship, turned into something even more.

14. go for it, hajime!

romance and dating aren't really kokonoi hajime's cup of tea- always avoiding this so-called 'love' for as long as he can remember.

so it is expected that he's a little bit rough around the area of commitment and trust, and although he already found the woman that he wanted to spend the rest of this lifetime with- he just can't find it in him to ask her out.

being casual with it was so out of the question, does he really think that he can woo her over just by a bouquet of flowers? and even if they're the expensive type, she deserves so much better than those cheap aromatic plants.

maybe ask her out after dinner at the most extravagant restaurant there is here in tokyo? no that's too public- the man doesn't want other wondering eyes to see l/n y/n's smile that he was so head over heels for, it's for him and him only.

then he needs to think about a private place yet somewhere scenic to remember the memory by, somewhere that will hold a significant meaning in their lives and will stick to them until they grow older.

with brows furrowed in concentration, kokonoi groaned as he slammed his head on the table, startling the young manager who was busy making them a fresh brew of tea.

"koko? are you alright?" she asked, immediately leaving the mini kitchen to attend to the man's needs.

dark eyes watched as the young woman crouched beside him, soft hands darting to his forehead to check on the damages.

he truly must be gods favorite- seeing as he was gifted with the ability to hide his true feelings on the outside yet is able to feel everything like fireworks blasting around his heart.

"i'm alright, just a little exhausted." y/n hummed at his words, brows furrowed in concern as she went back to the drink area and poured him a cold glass of water.

"you should've told me earlier, we could've had a short break."

the silver haired man had a lazy grin on his face, watching her as she went around in her office like a concerned wife for her tired husband- man he's really that into her.

he heard pills rattling and other things going on in her side of the office, a tray in her hands as she made her way back to him.

oh how he adored how smooth her (h/c) hair cascaded down her shoulders when she bent down and placed the tray on the table- eyes swirling with nothing but concern, and it's all for him.

"if you're experiencing any sort of pain or headache, take this and make sure to take it twice today."

y/n stood back up and proceeded to take every folder of paperwork from the man's table and discarded it somewhere on her side of the workplace, immediately dotting on the man who wasn't really sick but being stressed was sort of the same- right?

kokonoi chuckled at her actions, doing as she said whilst taking in the pain reliever that she had provided for him.

"you know, you'd make a great wife someday."

now don't get me wrong, the man really did think that- confident that she'll be a great wife to him and to his children, but god slap him because he wasn't thinking before opening that damned mouth of his.

the young woman had a bright blush on her face, standing there like a deer caught in the headlights as her mind began processing what he had just said.

he was the first one to snap out of it, immediately realizing his mistake as he began apologizing non-stop to her.

how can he, a bonten executive- one of the most feared man there is here in japan embarrass himself in front of the woman that he likes?!

surely sanzu must've sprinkled some of his drugs on the man's suit which caused him to speak before even thinking.

whatever reason there is behind his spontaneous confession, all he cared about right now is to make sure that y/n doesn't look at him differently and ruin what they had going.

"i am so sorry-" he was cut off by her chuckle, eyes wide to see her clutching her stomach as she hunched over her table- back racking with her laughter.

bright (e/c) eyes met with his, slightly glossed with tears as she gave him a smile.

"no one has ever told me that... you just made my day."

in kokonoi hajime's eyes and ears, her laughter sounded like something from an opera- not that he has attended one show, no. but it's heartfelt and genuine, emotions clear in her voice as her eyes carried her soul.

those bright, (e/c) colored eyes of hers that brought out her deepest and most sincere feelings out in the open only for him to see.

to him, she was like someone who carried along with joy and a sense of freedom along with each of her strides- no matter where she goes she lights up the whole place, intended to or not.

she smelt of (f/scent) and dandelions, something that resembles a bright sunny afternoon under a peach tree.

dark eyes widened in realization, looking at her overjoyed figure with his heart thumping that even his ears can hear its every beat.

to confess at a place that will hold the moment, etch itself into their mind for many years to come- he found it.

"y/n, let's go out for a ride."

l/n y/n was quite a calm woman when it comes to various situations- carrying out her nerves as she would always think of a way to get her out of the scenario.

on this particular ride though, she couldn't help but let her nerves run around the place as her eyes were covered by a silk handkerchief that kokonoi hajime had on his pockets.

the smell of musk and faint alcohol flooded her senses as she tried to make out what was happening around her- hearing nothing but the engine as they drove around the streets of tokyo.

kokonoi didn't tell her where they were going, only telling her to trust him and let him be the one to guide them to their destination.

although, the young manager would've liked it if she was given even just a small hint on where they were going.

the man must've sensed how tense and anxious she was in not seeing anything at all- because she felt a warm hand place itself on her knee for comfort.

"don't worry your pretty little head. we're almost there alright? so hang on a little longer for me."

and as if it was like magic, her heart slowed down- being able to breathe more clearly now as she relaxed under his touch.

god, kokonoi isn't aware of just how much his voice and touch alone affect her so badly- tilting her head to where the window was as the wind kissed her skin oh so gently.

the young woman can hear the little grin in his voice as he rubbed soothing circles over her satin-covered knee.

"hang on just a little more, i've got you."

the two didn't have a label in their relationship- always avoiding it as they tried sticking to their so-called assistant-boss type of deal.

but right now, they were clearly going past those barriers and are now entering a new one, not that y/n minded.

after what seems to be minutes of quiet driving, she finally felt the car stop as his hand left her knee to get out of the car.

y/n heard shuffling until she felt the passenger door open- a hand gently holding onto her waist to guide her out of the car.

"thank you for trusting me." it was quite uncharacteristic that the male spoke with a soft tone- but she doesn't know that it's only for her of course.

if it were in the eyes of his co-workers and his subordinates, then they would've thought that he had found sanzu's secret stash and inhaled a large amount of it to act this way.

"i don't mind... although, where are we?"

kokonoi began leading her somewhere, but it wasn't a long walk- maybe just a couple of steps before she felt his hands go up to her cheeks and toyed with the silk fabric that covered her eyes.

"on the count of three, i'll be taking this off- alright?"

"but you have to promise me that you'd answer me honestly." this made the young woman hum in confusion, wondering what he was talking about.

"answer...?"

"one..."

they couldn't stop the way on how their hearts were painfully beating inside of their chests, or how nervous the two was feeling just by standing there.

"two..."

this is it kokonoi hajime,

"three..."

you can do it!

and at the count of three, he finally removed the silk cloth- y/n closing her eyes at the sudden invasion of the afternoon sunlight, gently peeling them open to see a sight that surely pricked tears in her eyes.

they were at the same meadow that the man drove them to weeks ago- the one where she was supposed to confess her feelings.

dandelions stretched until you can't see them anymore, the smell of the fresh peach tree that was standing beside them flooded their senses with a mellow scent that calmed their nerves.

and on the middle of the field was a banner that was written in elegant calligraphy that would put her handwriting to shame.

l/n y/n, will you do me the honors of letting me call you mine?

words can't describe what she was feeling- a mixture of happiness and shock, happy that kokonoi likes her back and shocked that he did all of this just for her.

speaking of which, where was the man of the hour?

before she could even turn around to look for him, she felt pressure on her shoulder- keeping her in place as her wide eyes stared in front of her in shock.

kokonoi hajime was standing behind her, hands clenching the fabric of her blouse as his forehead was leaning on her shoulder. dark eyes shaking in nervousness as he gathered all of his available courage.

"koko...?"

"i've liked you for a while now... adored you from afar even if we work with just a table between us."

tears pricked her (e/c) eyes, trying so hard not to let them fall as she kept her eyes trained at the banner in front of them- heart beating erratically inside of her chest.

"my name may be tainted, and i may not have the greatest legacies out there for you to flaunt around- but i can take care of you just the same." his fists tightened on her blouse, eyes trained on the crushed dandelions beneath them.

"if you can give me a chance to prove to you that i'm not just all bonten executive- that i can be a suitable partner for you, then i would gladly die as the happiest man in this universe."

"l/n y/n, will you be my girlfriend?"

silence dawned upon them, only the sounds of the leaves dancing with the wind can be heard as he waited for her response.

kokonoi hajime expected this of course, knowing that he was taking a big risk on confessing to her even without reading the signs.

god he's so dumb to think that she'll-

"of course... i'll be your girlfriend."

the man peeled himself off of her in shock, eyes looking down at her as y/n finally turned around with a smile on her face- tears flowing down her eyes in happiness.

those (e/c) eyes that he had learned to love were swirling with nothing but adoration- and it's only for him and no one else.

was he hearing this right? did she just...

"in return... all i ask of you is to take care of my heart, i promise to take care of yours as well."

even with all the words available on the internet and dictionaries- none of them can describe the sheer happiness that the man was feeling right now, nothing.

for he was now experiencing a trip to cloud nine for the first time in his life- eyes looking at her and her only.

"i will... i fucking will."

the heavens watched as the two star-crossed lovers share their first kiss underneath that peach tree, dandelions fluttering all around them as they carried their promises and wishes to the heavens above.

they may not have been kind to them during the first round of love that they had experienced- but they sure did a great job intertwining their fates together.

and on that same day, in that same meadow underneath that peach tree...

the two of them finally saw each other as kokonoi hajime and l/n y/n- no one else.