#but i was thrilled to return to the wasteland

[daemondaes]

mad max au mad max au mad max au ma

[ghoulfuckersincorporated]

Ghoul Thought™️, perhaps a request? I haven’t played the game to know anything for sure, but I’m vibrating imagining the possibility that maybe he has a heightened sense of smell, and can smell just how turned on and wet his little vaultie has been for him from the moment they met. 🥵

Probably tries to ignore at first, but at a certain point he really needs to call her out😏

So, not only do I think ghouls overall would be able to smell when you were wet, I think ghouls with a particularly sensitive "nose" (I have spoken at some length about sense of smell and scent marking in ghouls, so you can find elaboration on that here) would be able to detect hormonal changes, so they'd be able to smell when you're ovulating.

Cooper can absolutely smell both, though he's not quite sure what he's picking up at first. He notices the tang in the air when you two initially approach one another, so he doesn't necessarily think much of it. What he fails to notice is the longing with which you'd been sizing him up before approaching. Your smell changes during your first conversation (well, more like a first argument, since every conversation with the man is about one crossed wire or snarky comment away from devolving into an argument, especially when you've only just met), and the change seems to stick once you both calmed down and agree to travel together.

However, the first time you two stop by the roadside to rest for a few hours, he notices the smell returning. He doesn't say anything about it, simply watches you drift off to sleep out of the corner of his eye, intrigued about this person who is so willing to travel with a ghoul, especially one as gruff and unwelcoming as he can be. Once you begin to snore lightly (a sound that makes him chuckle), he spends a long time just staring at you, studying you curiously. The smell has fully returned, and is even stronger than before, but it takes seeing you rubbing your thighs together and sighing in your sleep for him to fully realize what's going on.

He spends that whole night with the most painful, bothersome erection he's ever had in his life, but he's too annoyed with you and himself to do anything about it. The next morning, he's quieter than he'd typically be, but you don't know him well enough at that point to notice.

From that moment on, he notices it constantly. The idea that you simply find him, specifically, sexually attractive to the point of fairly blatant arousal is ridiculous to him, so he spends a long, long time turning the whole thing over and over in his brain; is it some adrenaline rush? Or a ghoul fetish? Do scarred-up, rotted near-corpses just get you going in general?

That theory is a wash when tested, though, since any time other ghouls are around and his nose picks up on it, he's also obviously there as well. Even observing from a distance doesn't really support the idea; you don't seem to really "click" with the others in exactly the same way. You're kind to them, of course, as you are to pretty much everyone, and it actually softens his heart to know you still see ghouls as real, whole people. But that's all it seems to be: friendliness. No matter how much he may try to deny it to himself, there's a chemistry, a spark between the two of you that he can't ignore, and that he doesn't see when you interact with others. He also cannot ignore the thrill it gives him to see other ghouls studying the two of you together, their eyes full of assumptions.

You always choose to sit close to him even when there are other options. You pester him with personal questions and inquiries about the Wasteland and he has to pretend to be annoyed by it, secretly overjoyed to have some seemingly genuine companionship for once in god knows how long. Sometimes, in your sleep, you unconsciously move close enough that you touch him. Rather innocent touches, considering, but they never fail to send his heart racing, leaving him humiliatingly aroused at as little as your back against his outer thigh, your face against his hip.

All the while, that scent tantalizes, haunts him.

He ignores the problem as long as he can, enjoying the way you two have slowly begun to chat, joke around with one another; there might even be some real trust developing there. He doesn't want to jeopardize that because he's lonely and can't control himself. Even if it's slowly beginning to seem to him that you might actually want him, too, he'd rather have your friendship and be happy with that than push his often rotten luck and risk losing you trying to be greedy.

But at the same time...feeling his long-dormant sex drive reawakening is strangely thrilling. It makes him feel human, makes him feel alive. For so long, he's found his sense of masculinity in violence, in vengeance and bloodshed. Your warm presence, your beauty, your scent...it all makes him feel masculine in a very different way, leaving him waiting impatiently most nights for you to fall deep enough asleep that he can sneak away to relieve the ache in his balls.

Of course, he doesn't go far enough away that he can't watch over you, still. No, he stays close enough that he can still see you, can study every inch and soft curve of your body as he strokes his throbbing cock. It's not disgusting or perverted if it's done out of necessity, he tells himself. The desert is a dangerous place, and he can't afford to take his eyes off of you when you're in such a vulnerable state. That doesn't mean he isn't left feeling guilty after he finishes, though, the euphoria of his orgasm tainted with shame. Still, he finds himself in the same position most nights, sighing your name wantonly as he spills all over the ground.

He can only fight his urges for so long, though.

You spent most of the previous week smelling of blood (something he also found tantalizing but decided to not think too hard on), which meant that soon you'd be ovulating. It was funny, almost, how he had all but completely forgotten pretty much everything about how women worked, but a handful of months with you and he's suddenly keeping track of your cycle (sort of) like it has anything to do with him. The whole thing makes him strangely nostalgic for when he and Barb were trying to conceive, and the emotions of that only add to the inner tumult he feels. The fact that your smell becomes even more temping, more inviting in this time only makes things worse for him.

The new game you'd been playing recently, however, would be the straw that ultimately broke the camel's back.

The last few nights, you'd taken to settling in for sleep, as per usual, but your breathing wouldn't drop down into the same deep, rhythmic pattern that indicated unconsciousness. Instead, you'd roll over onto your belly, a position you didn't usually sleep in, laying on your arm, and begin rather conspicuously grinding against your hand, pretending to be asleep all the while.

Cooper Howard is a man with an excellent poker face. Not much shakes him badly enough to draw out a genuine reaction. But the first time you did this, he sat a few feet away, frozen, a lit cigarette burning itself away to nothing as it dangled between his parted lips. The smell of you, the sound of your little whimpers and quiet sighs, had kept him nailed to that spot beside you all night two nights in a row, even after you'd finished and actually drifted off to sleep.

He tells himself tonight will be different if you pull the same stunt.

Which, of course, you do.

A shocked gasp leaves you when he grabs you by the ankle, dragging you a few feet through the sandy dirt towards him and flipping you onto your back, staring down at you as he pulls himself halfway on top of you.

"Filthy fucking tease." he growls, your natural perfume making his head swim as his deft fingers move to the button of your pants.

The pitch dark of the desert night is eerily silent, save for the harsh sound of your breaths intertwining as he helps wrestle the worn material down your legs, trying his best to rein in his strength and not shred it to pieces in his haste to get to that warm, inviting place between your legs. A snarl, feral and borderline inhuman, rips from his throat when his fingers finally find what he's been fantasizing about. The small part of him that has any control is nervous for a split second, worried to frighten you, but the shudder that seems to break down your spine in response isn't one of fear.

He knows he should be gentle, take his time, but the wetness that he feels, the heat, the hormones in the air short circuit his brain, and after a few swipes at your puffy clit, he sinks his middle finger inside you in one fluid motion, giving a few pumps before sliding his ring finger in alongside it. The sounds you let out are the most beautiful thing he's ever heard, and they drive him to rub and tease and fuck you with his hands until you're whimpering his name in a way that tells him you're close. Fleetingly, he wonders what his odds of being able to knock you up really are.

You turn your head quickly and snag his lips in a passionate kiss just as you begin to come apart all over his fingers, leaving him swallowing your moans and whimpers as his hips buck and grind wildly against your own. It's sloppy and rough and your teeth are bumping against one another, but you still bring your leg up around his hip, letting him rub himself against you as he cums in his pants.

After a few minutes, the two of you calm down enough to really look at one another, though you're both a little hesitant. No one says anything for a good, long second, but the look on your red, sweaty face says you're happy. Nervous, he tucks his face back into the crook of your neck, laying a few soft, sort of awkward kisses there, debating whether he should pull away or not. He doesn't want to impose himself on you anymore than he already has.

But your leg remains wound around his hip, holding him close as your hands move up to cradle the back of his head, petting softly, and the loving touch glues him in place, too lost in your affection to even think about going anywhere. He knows that you two are going to have to have a long, likely awkward talk about this, about what this makes you. He isn't dreading it as much as he imagined he'd be. He's eager to call you his, actually, if you'll let him...

...but not so eager that he can ignore the way you're starting to grind against him again. Or the way he's getting hard all over again. Poor thing, you're not getting much sleep tonight, are you?

He'll make it up to you somehow.

[mx-pastelwriting]

I Don’t Smoke

(Post-War) Cooper Howard x GN! Reader

Summary: Cooper couldn't keep his promise even when reminded of you.

Warnings: Established Relationship, Reader Dies, Held at gunpoint, Feral Cooper, Angst, Sad, Mention of body decay

A/N: Little bit inspired by the song I Don't Smoke by Mitski. Yes, I cried writing this.

The Wasteland a dangerous place, holding no hand to those who took its challenge. Its sandy beaches and dry heat a home to many creatures. Safety being a thing of the past, many growing with the rough life, some dying to catch up.

Cooper Howard having two hundred years to grow in the wasteland, starting off to survive, now only shooting for the thrill, with caps being an afterthought. Yet everything changed, laying his sore eyes on you.

Remembering the days by the pool, lying up in each other's arms watching the sunset, the lingering smell of cigarette smoke coming straight from his whiskey lips. Times like those made it harder for Cooper to be around others, with his trigger finger twitching at the smell.

Letting out your cries and loving words from that day traveling with your ghoul husband, protecting each other in different ways against the wasteland. Though he made a promise not to hurt anyone without reason, which meant no more bounties, his cowboy days were over; trading it all for you.

"Here," you say, handing over a bowl of soup, it being all you could manage on the road. Gently taking it from you before sipping on the hot broth and chewing on pieces of meat.

"Good?" he nodded in response, giving reassurance to the quality of the quick meal, serving yourself thereafter. As the night went on with the kicked-out fire leaving a lingering smell, laying comfortably in Cooper's arms, ready for sleep to take you.

This being a cheap version of your life before, you couldn't ask for your old house back, but that wasn't what was missing. "Coop, do you have any cigarettes?" Your question made him laugh.

"Darling, I haven't had one of those in two hundred years." His answer surprises you, but the moment is cut short by the noise of rattling from the dry bushes. Staying close to Cooper as he stood ready to shoot.

Happing all too fast for him as you were snatched up in a raider's arms, both of you being held at gunpoint by the two.

"Fucking been tracking you for days," Cooper's captor says out of breath, watching as the man removes his hat, letting Cooper's face glow in the stomped-out firelight.

"The famous fucking ghoul bounty hunter" specking again, making you lock eyes with Cooper, knowing his past being as honest as he could without scaring you off.

"Pretty price on your head," your captor says, tightening his grip on you. "Yeah, and if you come with us, we'll let them go," the other says, leaning close to Cooper.

Wishing things had gone a little differently, but the wasteland gives no mercy, not even to the ones who play the game well.

Cooper watched as your body hit the floor, shot by the raider. Having hesitated moments before looking into your scared eyes, fear bubbled deep down in himself, afraid of you seeing his ways of destruction. Returning the same mercy to the two men taking their bullets as you couldn't.

Cradling your dead body, letting out cries of disbelief with every breath asking for your forgiveness. Rocking softly, you slowly head close to his chest as tears run down his scarred face—the same face you loved with no question. Even when he saw a different man in every broken mirror, you were there to kiss the doubt away. Never will he have that again.

As the sunrise came, shining its light on your body, allowing Cooper to see the full damage, causing more apologies and tears to spill. All of the blood staining his face and worn leather clothes glistened in the light.

Staying with you all night, whispering to you, retelling all the memories you made together, hoping you would make new ones. Regret filled his worn voice, continuing to tell of his sorrows in all of the nights, leaving you to sleep in a cold bed, working through the night on movies that mean so little now.

Cooper's body moved, aching with hunger. Growls involuntarily escaped his mind, urging him to cry out. Worn clothing ripped over time, dragging along the floor as he circled a broken shed, his head snapping around to the sound of voices, following it with stumbling feet seeing two men chatting away.

Stepping closer, smelling a familiar scent, seeing as one of them smoked a cigarette, blowing the smoke against the breeze breathing right into his face. The thick smell brought back forgotten memories—memories that calmed his vicious hunger.

Remembering your face and eyes lit up at the mere sight of him, the smile that grew on your face making an urge to find you as if you were somewhere in the wastelands once again looking for him. Quickly, the memory of your last moments played, bringing back the hunger, leaving no mercy for the two men.

After finishing, Copper stumbled back into the broken-down shed, looking over at the bed where a decaying body was tucked into the bed. Breaking his first promise, hoping you'd understand having gone feral after losing you. When his sanity started to slip away, he promised to keep another; never to leave your decaying body.

Hello, I hope you enjoyed if there is any grammar mistakes or misspellings sorry about that feel free to let me know in the comments, have a great day/afternoon/night!

𝙏𝙖𝙜𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩: @emoguardian @danveration @writtenbyhollywood

[cambion-companion]

Frozen Contract

I had to deliver on the poll I recently made. This is a drabble, being forced to share body heat with a cambion as you're stranded in a frozen wasteland.

"You have the freedom to choose the only option you have left."

Raphael x reader | drabble

You curled in on yourself, the coldness of hard-packed snow beneath you seeping through your thin bedroll straight to your bones.

Your shivering was becoming so violent you could just about feel your brain rattling within your skull.

“Dear, dear, you are in quite a state.”  Raphael sat quite unbothered upon his own pristine bedroll, golden eyes of licking flame as they watched you. “A frozen mouse quite fit for a snake’s meal.”

“Do you ever get tired of your metaphors?”  You could barely speak through the chatter of your teeth.

Raphael tilted his horned head, his breath creating puffs of steam with each exhale. “Does a nightingale get tired of singing the sun to sleep?”

You rolled your eyes.

“It’s self-evident you have life left in you yet, little one.”  Raphael noticed your annoyed expression, raising his eyebrow in return and flipping a page in the book he lazily read. His tail swept idly around in front of him, clearing a bit of snow and shoving it onto your blankets. “While we yet travel together, desist irking me with your trifling mortal troubles.”

“Such as freezing to death?” You bit back, your patience long gone.

Raphael smirked, holding out a large hand and catching several of the large flakes of snow that had begun falling from the dark sky. “Indeed.  I can hear the rattling of your bones from here.”

You glared at him for a moment, then squeezed your eyes tight shut.  

Raphael returned his attention to you, then snapped his book shut with a sharpness that made you jump.  He regarded you with a familiar haughty air. “I would admire your stalwart nature were it not so mulish.”

“I am not asking you for help.”

Raphael didn’t respond for a moment, his expression calculating. “I am quite accustomed to biding my time.”

You turned away, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself and attempted to sleep once more.

It was the shivering that awoke you, your body trying desperately to warm itself.  You couldn’t feel your hands or feet for the numbness, could barely lift your eyelids to check for signs of the dawn.

A heavy hand pressed upon your hip; you could feel the warmth of Raphael’s skin through the fabric over you. His breath was as the breath of life, hot against your neck and cheek. “Say ‘yes’.”

“Yes.”  You gasped out and the cambion responded immediately.

Raphael curled his large fiendish body around your much smaller frame, his fingers undoing the clasps of your clothing. He took hold of your wrists as you moved weakly to protest. “The ice will melt and leave you soaking, and I will not tolerate such a mess.”

You let him shed you of your clothing, his wing quickly covering you and his arm wrapping around your bare torso to tug your body flush against his own.

With two long fingers, Raphael tilted your face to look at him. His eyes flitted between your own, then down to your mouth. “Your lips are a charming shade of blue.”

“I can’t feel them.”  You mumbled; your thoughts hazy from the warmth seeping from his body into yours.

Raphael bent his head to you, his free hand cupping the back of your head, sending a thrill of heat through you. You closed your eyes, feeling his tongue trace liquid fire across your lips, then the soft press of a kiss that deepened to something more primal.

You felt the thick coil of his long tail slide and wind its way up your leg, warming you in a much different way.

Raphael took your chin between thumb and forefinger, forcing you to focus on him. “Say my name, pet.”

You hesitated only a moment.  Giving into a brief defiance before accepting defeat. Your lips trembled, but no longer from the cold. “Raphael.”

[factorialsotherfandoms]

"Philza, can we be serious for a second?" Fit asks, one day.

"I'm listening." Philza turns, his attention granted once more

"If we ever get off this island, what are we going to do?" The question has been haunting Fit for some time; it is only right he asks one of his closest friends.

"… Go back to where we came from, I suppose." Philza, to his credit, seems melancholnic with the answer.

"But the kids, Phil," Fit's voice tenses on the words. "I can't take Ramon with me - you've seen where I live. I can't take a child there, never again."

"You've changed, mate."

"Philza."

It's not wrong, but its not what Fit wants to talk about. Not in the slightest, or at all - Philza has changed too, after all. For the more vulnerable, in both their cases.

There is silence a moment, before Philza sighs. "I get you," another pause. "I love my hardcore worlds, but… one life and you're dead. It's the thrill of it, it's the beauty of it, I'm sure I could make somewhere safe enough for my eggs, but… they shouldn't have to live in fear of death. Not ever, not any more, never again. Hell, not even Wil lives with me there, and he's an adult. Beautiful as it is its a solo world for a reason, you know?"

"Then you get me."

"Yeah, I get you."

Probably better than anyone else in the worlds.

There's silence again for a few moments, broken only by the sounds of using Phil and Missa's warp as a shortcut to spawn. Fit is quite content to let it sit, to simply know that the problem is shared, that he's not the only person both deseperate to escape and terrified of what that means.

The interruption, however, drives Philza to speak again. "Fit, what do you want to say?"

Does he want to say something else? Fit doesn't know, but assumes Philza must have some idea. "… I'm not sure," he says. "But I think some of the others don't have suitable homes either."

"Do any of them?" Philza replies. "I'm not even sure Wil /has/ a home at this point."

"Right. And the Brazilians. I don't know exactly, but Phil-" Fit pauses, unsure if he should finish that sentence, before deciding to hell with it, Philza will recognise it anyway. "Pac and Mike were using the boat to put distance between them and the law after their past caught up. Dunno about the others, but can't imagine its great if they shared a boat together."

Philza whistles, clearly not surprised. If anything, slightly impressed - FIt could always trust him with that. "Guess its a habit of theirs."

"I'm serious, Philza." Fit reminds him.

"No same," Philza gestures a bit. "I don't know them like you do, but Pac and Mike... They deserve a chance, let alone Richarlyson."

So do all the children, Fit doesn't say. He's done crimes enough against children before.

Philza waits, and when Fit doesn't continue, does so himself, "I don't know much about the French before they came here, or Foolish, but Bad was already working multiple part time jobs, and if he had a home it wasn't best suited to a kid."

"Vegetta? Missa?" Fit asks. "Does Quackity have somewhere to go maybe?"

"Dunno about most. Missa's a bit like Wil, though," Philza smiles softly at the thought, before it turns a little sadder. "Never stays anywhere very long, and with the skeleton thing and his reaction to this shack… pretty sure it's not by /choice/ he's doing the travelling musician act. Wil at least has somewhere to return to, Missa nearly burst into tears at four walls made of fences and a cheap roof."

"Well shit."

"Definitely can't take Missa to hardcore, either," Philza continues the thought. "I could make an area safe for Tallulah. Missa? He'd die as soon as I looked away from him and I /can't/ loose him. Not now."

"Travelling musicians, ex-cons, men who live alone without any contact, old hands in an eternal wasteland... The Feds clearly picked people who wouldn't be missed," Fit frowns a little, struggling to think of anyone who bucks that trend.

Philza doesn't reply to that. Fit doesn't think it too odd but, after he doesn't respond for a while, he looks over. There's a clear look on Philza's face, one that has ended empires and built others anew.

"Philza?"

"I do have… a bit of a plan. Not a lot of one. But I've been thinking."

"Thinking, eh? Using that beautiful brain of yours?" Fit doesn't know if he should be terrified or excited, and so falls back on the oldest trick in the book - flirting.

"Oh shut up big boy," Philza waves one dismissive hand. "But, yeah. I'm pretty sure, if we could get out of here, I could manage to find some place uninhabited. A new island or world. Whitelist it just to us islanders and the eggs, maybe people's partners from elsewhere. Infinite lives, an empty but open world… Somewhere just for us. All of us."

"It'd be a lot of work, starting again from nothing. Can you even support this many people? I know there's your worlds, but it'd be a lot..." Fit wants to be excited, wants to see some hope in this tunnel - somewhere safe for him and his kid, somewhere to retire to. Maybe make trips back to the wasteland, but no longer live there. Never live there again.

"I can't talk to her here, not easily, but I bet Kristin would be willing to support it. I've heard a few other people have ties to gods, too, which would help. Not sure which, but once we /have/ a plan asking is easier." Philza muses a bit as he talks. "We discussed it once, before, for another group. Smaller than this, but with help... I reckon it'd work. Even if not, I could hold it together long enough for someone to make a better plan."

"Sounds nice. Too nice," is all Fit can really say.

"I've never wanted it before," Philza sighs with the words. "I was happy just with my solo worlds, but… I don't think i could loose this - everyone - now I've had them."

"Just like I cant leave Ramon."

"Exactly. We've got families now."

"Look at us, getting old and sentimental."

"Oh piss off mate you started it."

"I know, I know." Fit laughs, because what can he do but laugh in the end.

Philza has a plan, and Fit is included in it. It will work, or it will fail, and there's nothing they can do about it.

It's a pipe dream, anyway; they'd have to get off the island first, and Fit's pretty sure that won't be possible in his lifetime. The best he can do is enjoy what he has for the time it lasts, and leave worrying to people better suited to it.

If only the Federations would let them have their fun.

[shmothman]

coming through for the vash prompt! immediately thought of vash w/ num 20 ❤️

Blossoming Romance Prompts

20. clumsy attempts at flirting

this reminds me of something I’ve been wanting to write for ages now 👀👀 (I know it’s supposed to be “blossoming romance” but... hear me out... established relationship...)

(Vash the Stampede x Reader, rated G, 739 words)

“So,” comes a voice from just behind you; a voice belonging to the tall man coming to lean against the bar beside you as you raise an eyebrow. “Come here often?”

You bite back a laugh. Of all the lame pickup lines…

Turning to him with a slight smile, you take in his messy hair, the way his grin shows off a peek of sharp canines, the way his bright blue eyes scrunch up with his smile, and you fight down a blush that threatens to rise in your cheeks. He really is the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

“Actually, I just got into town,” you tell him, pretending not to pay him much attention as you sip your drink.

“What a coincidence,” he says, and the sound of his voice sends your heart fluttering. “I did too.” Now he pretends to examine his nails, lowering his voice to a languid drawl: “I’m a bit of a drifter.”

Your lips twitch upward. “Oh,” you say, “a drifter. Must be a hard life.”

“Oh, it is.” His eyes dart upward to meet yours, smile turning sly. “Don’t get a lot of comfort, out in the wasteland.”

Despite everything, your heart pounds at the look on his face. You ignore it and hum a noncommittal tone. “Handsome guy like you, I doubt comfort’s in short supply.”

“Maybe not the kind I’m looking for.” 

“What are you looking for?”

He grins like sunshine. “Why don’t you join me on the dance floor and I’ll show you?”

You can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from your chest. “Alright, cowboy, lead the way.”

His smile gets even wider as you tip back the rest of your drink, leaving your glass on the counter in favor of taking his hand. He helps you down from the stool, his gaze heavy as he tracks your full figure—down and back up, slow and purposeful—and now you can’t stop the warmth from rising in your face, coloring the tips of your ears.

You don’t miss the happy sigh he lets out as he leads you to the cleared area of the bar where a few couples sway to the sound of the radio, and you don’t miss the look in his eyes as he pulls you closer, lifts your hand to brush a kiss across your knuckles, meets your gaze from beneath long lashes. 

“Charmer,” you accuse with a smile.

“Guilty as charged,” he returns. Then, his prosthetic hand rests on your waist, and he’s turning with you, sweeping you into his embrace, chest to chest as he grins down at you. His voice is so soft now, so quiet as he says, “this is the kind of comfort I want.”

You know your emotions are plain on your face: an adoration you can’t even pretend to hold back… but the same is in his eyes, too. Still, you can’t help the way your lashes flutter as you pitch your voice low; “you sure it’s all you want?”

This time, it’s his turn to blush—and red is such a lovely color on him. He recovers quickly, though, his grin going dopey. “Why, pretty stranger, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were offering something.”

You sway with him, warmth tingling from your head to your toes. “And what if I am?”

“Then I’d say I’m interested.”

A thrill of anticipation runs through you. “Wha’d’ya say we get out of here?”

“I say yes,” he answers quickly, resolutely, and you giggle. 

He’s clearly excited, buoyed as he practically drags you across the bar, single-minded in his purpose. You shiver as you step out into the cool night air with him, but he only smiles back at you, wraps his arm around your waist, leans in to brush his lips against the shell of your ear.

“I love you,” he sighs happily.

“Vaaash,” you laugh, playfully pushing him away. “We’ve only just met!”

“Ah, ah, ah—” he grins back, “I never told you my name!”

You pout. “I can’t know the name of the handsome stranger who’s taking me back to his room?”

“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” he teases with a wink. 

“Alright,” you relent, unable to keep the smile off your face for long. 

He clears his throat as he gets back into character, puffing out his chest and deepening his voice. “So,” he says. “Is it hot in here or is it just you?”

[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

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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.

[jo-harrington]

cryptid request: maybe it’s weird but there’s an inner monster inside of us that we repress.

Interesting....

...because I had one very cute idea for this...but am gonna go in a very different direction now bestie. Sorry that angst is the way we're going.

Welcome to the first (and possibly only?) Requiem from Hell

And just in time for Friday the 13th too.

Pairing: Kas!Eddie/Reader -OR- Kas!Eddie/OC (The Knight)

Themes/Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, hurt/no comfort, violence/gore, emotional manipulation, something more maybe

Find Hymns of Heaven here.

And find the Master List for As Above, So Below here.

It started the day he found the guitar.

His days were mostly the same. Run, fly, feed, repeat. Over and over into oblivion in the desolate wasteland of the Upside Down.

Time didn't exist in a place like this and boredom was certainly not out of the norm.

Fights were especially common because of that.

Despite the desire to participate that thrummed through the hive mind, he generally stayed out unless he knew he would benefit from the carnage. Extra blood to quench his constant thirst; fill the void inside of him.

Eddie knew he was the strongest, though. Smartest, deadliest, and most vicious of all the creatures that roamed throughout the realm.

The instrument of Henry's vision for destruction.

But the creatures were his companions, his family even, given how many of them had sacrificed themselves to become one with him. So he hung back.

But that day he simply couldn't.

He'd been watching the demodogs roughhouse aggressively. It amused him to see his little friends play in such a way. However, his favorite, Cerberus--the one who looked to him for approval and almost affection--was smaller than the others and was often pushed around. Eddie kept making warning noises when the others were too forceful, or hiss and bear his teeth at them when they bit too close to Cerberus’ throat.

No, he would broadcasted through the shared consciousness, leave him alone.

And for the most part they complied. But favoritism fostered resentment, and soon blood was drawn and hunger stoked. Cerberus was tossed to Eddie's feet, wounded and whimpering.

And what could Eddie do when his friend was bleeding and he was hungry?

Than to massacre the others in retaliation.

He lavished in the thrill of the chase as they fled and his powerful wings propelled him forward faster than they could run. The feeling of their flesh shredding beneath his claws, or the gore that dripped down his chin as he sunk his teeth into them. The crunch of their bones when he threw their bodies forcefully against the ground when he was done with them.

When he returned, Cerberus stood there, whimpering, both grateful to be rescued but fearful that he might be next. There was a spark in the sea of darkness within Eddie, knowing that he did it to protect a friend. But also slight guilt at the fear that followed.

Don't worry, he thought. You're safe; you'll heal and grow stronger. And we will fight together next time.

Beast, a different voice ripped through his head now. Ripped through the collective consciousness. The darkness consumed Eddie again, and, moreover, an overwhelming despair. I didn't create you to feel. Pathetic. Don't fail me again.

Eddie clutched his head as he was reminded of his rebirth. As all of the pain and the venom and the corruption burned through every cell of his body.

He was nothing. He would be nothing. Unless he obeyed.

Once the onslaught was over, he was hunched over, numb, and out of breath.

He ran.

It was instinct. Self preservation. Something inside him that urged him to run. He turned on his heel and took to the skies. Cerberus roared after him, begged his friend to return, but Eddie was already gone.

Any feeling, any human feeling, was curious to him now. He'd always felt so vibrantly when he was still alive, but he'd been stripped of all that hadn't he? He still felt things like boredom and anger and protection; they all cropped up time and again, some at inopportune times, and he generally could tamp them down if he really wanted to.

Or embrace them.

Henry was aware of them now though, and while Eddie had no fear of his Master, he knew he would need to tread carefully.

That is why he ran, he told himself, why he found solace in the trailer of all places. His former home. It as far as he could get from his Master without raising any suspicion while still having some peace alone.

His response to this intrusion of emotion was more destruction. He forced his way into the half-destroyed trailer, the partially-formed gate pulsing ominously beside him, and began breaking things. Things that deep down in that pit of darkness that existed where his soul used to be he considered home intrinsically part of the identity of Eddie Munson.

And could he really say he was Eddie Munson anymore?

Mugs were shattered, the mildew-saturated cushions of the sofa torn to ribbons, and several holes punched through the thin walls.

And then, in the bedroom, he found his guitar.

He paused for a brief second.

"It's like she was destined for an alternate dimension," his voice echoed reverently.

He took two steps forward.

"Are you ready for the most metal concert in the history of the world?"

He reached out with his hands, his talons, fingers elongated in such an inhuman way...and he plucked one of the strings with his his claw.

The muted TWANG startled him, but he huffed and plucked it again. It was clumsy, but he was careful. Careful not to break the strings or scratch the finish of the instrument.

"You can play it, you know."

The soft voice in his ear startled him and he jumped, immediately on alert. His eyes searched around the trailer and he hissed in warning for whoever was with him. Whoever was hiding. Had they come to kill him? Had his friends finally returned?

He sniffed at the air deeply and found...nothing.

He was alone.

"Not alone," the voice said again, painfully this time. "Never alone."

He let out a bellowing roar; the gate, it had to be the gate.

"No, I'm...not here...but I'm always here," your voice, hoarse from disuse sounded behind him, around him, within him.

He closed his eyes for the briefest of moments and he felt you there. He flinched as your hand touched his face, as your fingers ghosted over protruding teeth. But ultimately he welcomed the ministrations. The first bit of comfort he had received in...

Eternity.

He could envision you as you made little noises of contemplation. You looked just as tired as your voice sounded. Clothes mussed and ripped like his, eyes without their sparkle. But still...you.

You, he thought bitterly, who had left him to this fate.

You...who had left him.

He felt the frustration build up inside of him once again, the rage, and his eyes blinked open as he slashed his claws out to be rid of you once and for all--

He would rip into you, make you hurt, make you suffer, make you bleed. He would empty you, to fill himself. Quench his thirst, douse his raging fire.

--Only to be met with air.

"That's not nice."

You were...a hallucination.

"No. I'm real. I'm just not--"

Then why couldn't he hurt you?

"You can't hurt me any more than you already have Eddie."

He wasn't Eddie anymore.

"Then why didn't you destroy the guitar?"

The floor creaked behind him as you walked just out of sight and he turned, only to be met with the sight of the bed once again. You were nowhere to be found.

He watched, with great fascination, as nothing happened. As nothing changed. The room remained still and untouched by anyone but him.

And still the lazy zzzzzzz sound of your finger drawing up the length of the guitar string reached his ears, your skin rasping against the almost-imperceptible metal coil.

He took the few steps forward and snatched the guitar off the bed, away from you. You couldn't fuck with him anymore if he destroyed it.

He raised the instrument over his head...ready to smash it into a thousand pieces. Crush it just like he had crushed the bones of those demo dogs just a short while prior.

"That'll get rid of you," he spoke for the first time in...months, years, decades, he wasn't sure. It was clumsy around the teeth and the wide jaw but it was still his voice.

He froze.

It was still Eddie Munson's voice.

His shoulders heaved as he thought.

Eddie Munson's voice. Eddie Munson's guitar. Eddie Munson's girlfriend.

"You're still Eddie," you told him matter-of-factly. Your hands avoided his wings and ran over his shoulders as you raised yourself to your toes--or maybe you just floated off the ground--to compensate for his longer limbs so you could get closer to his ear. Your breath ruffled his hair and made him shiver "You're still...here somewhere. Just like I am. Even if you don't want us to be."

"I don't want you here," he growled.

"Well too bad."

It was as though a ghost went through him.

Gone were your hands from his shoulders, your lips caressing his ear, your breath in his hair.

You were suddenly in him.

Running, searching, laughing. He could feel the echo of your footsteps in the chambers of his heart. You taunted him as you threw open all of his doors and let your light in. It wasn't a drop of light anymore, it was like...sunbeams shining through the leaves in the canopy of the forest. It moved where you did, it caused the creatures that lived on the cobwebs in the corners of his being to skitter and flee as it went.

You found the dark void deep within him, and for a moment he rejoiced that it would smother you once and for all. That he would finally, truly be free. And instead...you allowed yourself to be swallowed by it.

A shockwave went through him. Enough that he took a sudden step back.

His fingers twitched. They tingled.

Time didn't exist in the Upside Down.

He took the few steps towards the bed and dropped to take a seat. The guitar stayed cradled in his arms all the while.

But for the first time in the months, years, decades that he had been here...

He carefully plucked the strings again...clumsily...over and over until he could make out the faint, distantly familiar sounds of a melody. Henry despised music...but what could this little thing hurt.

It was just a way to pass the time.

...Eddie felt more.

[sisterspooky1013]

Parallel, Chapter 5/6

Rated X | Read it here on AO3

When they return to Malibu, Mulder goes out for a run, leaving her alone in the apartment. She uncorks a bottle of very expensive wine and wanders from room to room with glass in hand, exploring the minutiae of this other life. This other path.

In addition to the master suite, there are two other bedrooms and a full bath. One bedroom is an office, the other a well-stocked library, and she notes a handful of familiar titles: Moby Dick, The Scarlet Letter, Uncle Tom’s Cabin. But just like the music on the radio, the vast majority of them are new to her. The books appear to be arranged by genre, and she locates a section of nonfiction historical works that looks promising. The spine of one reads “The Rise and Fall of the United States of America,” and she feels both afraid and excited as she gets comfortable in an oversized armchair and begins to read.

She learns that the pivotal moment, the turn of events that separated this timeline from her own, was the circumstances of the Civil War. Under different leadership and with the allegiance and support of a powerful European ally, The Confederacy sought not to secede from the United States, but to overthrow it. Only by joining forces with their neighbors to the north was the Union able to maintain control of a small portion of the former United States and its territories. A map in the book shows an extension of the Canadian border down the east and west coast like two legs, one encompassing Washington State, Oregon, and California, the other every state from Maine down to Pennsylvania. The rest of the country, including most of what would have become the Midwest, is labeled as the Confederate States of America. It’s described as a nearly dystopian wasteland, plagued by violence and lawlessness. The border between the Canadian territories and the C.S. is heavily guarded, and frequent checkpoints ensure that no C.S. citizen is able to infiltrate.

Scully closes the book, half wishing she hadn’t read it, and continues her aimless wandering, stopping along the way to refill her wine. She ends up in the master bedroom, watching from the window as the sun comes into view and begins its slow march toward the horizon. Beachgoers look like lines of ants as they pack up their towels and umbrellas and walk back to their cars, and she feels nostalgic and homesick, both for her California coast childhood and her East coast apartment that is likely part of the Confederacy in this world. She wants to go home, but she is home, at least as close to home as is available to her right now. She wants her sister, and she wants Mulder, but the versions of them here are the wrong ones. In her desperation for comfort, she draws herself a bath.

Beneath an opaque veil of bubbles, she closes her eyes and indulges in one of her favorite fantasies. It’s an entirely plausible scenario in which Mulder kisses her on her couch after an evening talking over case files, and she wordlessly leads him to her bedroom. When she’s almost to the best part, she hears the front door open and listens as Mulder moves through the apartment, kicking off his shoes and stashing his keys.

“Dana?” he calls out, and she gets a little thrill from the domestic normalcy of answering that she’s in the bath.

He appears in the doorway, bare-chested and glistening, and she’s grateful for the modesty afforded her by the bubbles.

“Feeling better?” he asks, and she shrugs.

“A little.”

“Mind if I grab a shower?”

She shakes her head, then watches as he strips off his running shorts and boxers while he waits for the water to heat up. She doesn’t bother trying to hide her open observation of him, and he doesn’t seem to notice. Why would he? In his experience, she’s seen him naked hundreds if not thousands of times.

When he’s finished, he wraps a towel around his waist and grabs a second one off the rack, then steps up beside the tub and holds it open wide.

“It’s golden hour,” he says, and it’s clear that it should mean something to her.

In a surge of either resignation or bravery, she opens the drain on the tub and stands up, leaving only a thin film of bubbles covering her body. Mulder offers her his hand and she steps out onto the bath mat where he wraps the towel around her as well as his arms, holding her close while water glugs down the drain.

After what feels like minutes, he says, “C’mon, we don’t want to miss it,” and pulls away enough to guide her out into the bedroom. She follows his lead, like she has done much of the day, as he lays on top of the comforter with the towel still slung around his waist. She secures her own towel under her arms and lies down beside him, and he snakes his arm under her shoulders. After some adjustments, she ends up tucked up against his side with her head on his chest, the room awash in a sea of reds and oranges and both their faces turned toward the window to soak it all in.

They are quiet, and she listens to the sounds of ambient traffic and shrieking gulls, and the steady beat of Mulder’s heart under her ear. He idly traces his finger up and down her forearm, following the long bones in her fingers from wrist to tip and back again.

“What’s wrong?” he asks suddenly, and she immediately feels like crying. “You just…you don’t seem like yourself today,” he adds, giving her arm a squeeze.

“I don’t feel like myself today,” she confirms. “I’m sorry if I’m acting strange.”

“That dream really threw you for a loop, eh?” he says.

“Yes,” she says quietly. “It really did.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

She lifts her head off his chest and props herself up on an elbow. His hair is damp and wild, his cheeks rough with stubble. Her eye falls to his shoulder, very near where her head was resting moments ago. With her free hand she touches the place where her Mulder would have a long-healed pink scar that she gave him and runs her fingers across unblemished skin. She lowers her head and presses her lips to that place, aching for this part to be real. This easy, uncomplicated way of being together.

“I love you,” she whispers against his skin. It feels like an experiment, like a chance to see how it feels to say it out loud in his presence.

“I love you too,” he says quickly, without hesitation, and it breaks her heart.

“Why?” she asks, lifting her head to look at his face. “Why do you love me?”

He inverts their position, rolling her to her back and hovering over her. Her towel shifts and exposes a long strip of flesh from beneath her breasts down her belly, and she resists the urge to adjust it. Mulder cradles her jaw in his palm, his thumb gently stroking her cheek, and it feels so real, like something her Mulder would do. He searches her face for a moment before he kisses her forehead, letting his lips linger. She tries so hard to keep the tears from falling, but she can’t. They run down the sides of her face, pooling in the whorls of her ears. When he finally pulls away, he brushes the tears off with the backs of his fingers, first from one side and then the other.

“How could I not?” he asks earnestly, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

She kisses him then. She pulls him down by the back of his neck and she kisses him like she’s always wanted to. Like she wishes she could. He slips his hand under her towel and touches her bare waist, her hip, then skirts back up and palms her breast. She’s overwhelmed with arousal and excitement and fear, aware of the press of his erection against her thigh and how incredibly wet she is. The room is warm and soaked in sunset, and his body is firm and smooth, and she gets lost in how good it feels to be touched and held. To be loved without question.

“I want you,” he murmurs, running his fingers down the inside of her thigh. She wants him so much she feels like she might burst into flame. He pauses, apparently waiting for a response. “Dana?” he asks.

At the sound of her first name, her eyes fly open and she sits up abruptly. She looks around, disoriented. This sherbet room, this California king bed, this man beside her with a tent at the front of his towel. This doesn’t belong to her. This isn’t right.

“I’m sorry,” she says, tugging her own towel up to cover her breasts. “I’m sorry, I just—I don’t feel like myself today.”

The tears return, and she’s just so exhausted by this whole ordeal. She feels lost in a way she doesn’t know how to explain to him.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says, sitting up behind her and wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “We don’t have to have sex if you’re not up to it.”

“But the calendar,” she chokes out, feeling like she’s ruining another version of herself’s chance at motherhood.

“Screw the calendar,” he says, giving her a squeeze. “There’s always tomorrow, or next month. We can just lay here, or go watch TV. We can do whatever you want.”

She nods and wipes her cheeks.

“Maybe just lay here, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it’s okay,” he says emphatically. “I’ll be right back.”

He goes to the closet and slips on a pair of boxers, then throws her a cotton nightgown that she pulls on over her head before discarding her towel. She lies on her side facing the window and he cuddles up behind her, one arm draped over her waist and a respectable distance between his groin and her backside.

“This okay?” he asks, kissing her shoulder, and she nods.

“Thank you,” she whispers, relaxing into him.

They watch as the sky fades from orange to pink, and her tear-salted eyes grow heavy. She feels the press of Mulder’s chest rising and falling against her back with his breaths, and it lulls her into a trance. The last thing she remembers is his deep, contented sigh, and the way she feels it in her bones.

Tagging @today-in-fic

[cinematicnomad]

the terror fitzier fic recs below the cut for @skylessnights

this far from heaven by 5runner5 (1/1 | 10k+ | Ex) fitzier; slow burn; missing scenes; masturbation; hurt/comfort; getting together

this man—this irritable drunk who apparently saw nothing of worth whatsoever in james—was a sad, far cry from the man he had imagined, when he’d first thrilled at reading the name crozier in dispatches.

forged in the ice by captaincrozier (28/28 | 97k+ | M) fitzier; canon divergence; fix-it (of sorts); secret relationship; canon typical violence

something was forged in that arctic ice, something crozier will carry with him always, something that gave him hope, and the strength to get home. it was love... but the moment of its existence was cruelly brief.... and what is he without it now? haunted by and faithful to its memory, he tries to carry on, but how does one continue when faced with its ghost, every day?

mirror, mirror by palpalou (2/2 | 26k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; sick fic; misunderstandings; getting together

in which francis flatters james back to health, without noticing how hard he's flirting, actually. [for the terror own language fest, english in chapter II]

sunset and evening star, and one clear call for me. by gwerfel, kt_fairy (19/19 | 85k+ | M) fitzier; past francis/sir james; canon divergence; post-canon fix it; slow burn

they came upon a furrow in the landscape, too shallow to be called anything but a scrape, and all stopped in their tracks. there were indeed men. a crowd of them, walking and talking or sprawled upon the ground, not raving or twitching or gurgling foul smelling blood. they were in appalling condition though, ross could tell even from this distance, but they were still men. a figure stepped towards ross' party, and he would recognize that damned hat and the way hands were tucked up high into greatcoat pockets anywhere. he scrambled with the harness, throwing it off and taking off in a stumbling, inelegant dash across the shingle. "ross!" he heard francis gasp just before he collided with him, holding his dear friend in an embrace that nearly sent them both crashing to the ground. OR ross arrives in time, wounds are still open, and the risky business of having survived is navigated. the arctic does not let you out of its grasp with a wave and a goodbye.

untitled (perfect lovers), 2019, mixed media, london by caravaggiosbrushes (8/8 | 70k+ | Ex) fitzier; au–modern setting; au–artists; enemies to lovers; self-inflicted wounds 

sometimes there is nothing pretty in art. when francis crozier, a conceptual artist with a long and successful career, is invited to the franklin art gallery to put up a solo exhibition of his artworks, the last thing he expects is to find james fitzjames, performer artist and Instagram phenomenon, there, ready to work with him.

penumbra by crafterofwords (23/23 | 84k+ | Ex) fitzier; francis/sophia; canon divergence; period typical homophobia; angst with a happy ending

captain francis rawdon moira crozier and commander james fitzjames, of the royal navy, have survived their harrowing experience in the frozen wasteland of the arctic circle. a safe return to london has been these men's only desire through the very long nights in the arctic, so it is with confusion and discouragement that they find their homecoming has left them wanting. haunted by the memories and knowledge of horrors beyond the scope of what most men can bear, will they be able to find happiness, despite being given all they thought they'd ever wanted?

till human voices wake us by ktula (1/1 | 14k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; flatmates; repression; trauma recovery; tenderness

“thank you for last night,” james says, because it’s easier to say that than it is to say what he’s actually thinking. “i wasn’t…you’re welcome,” francis says, his gaze going to the sideboard a moment before re-focusing on james. “did it help?” “yes,” james lies. the second batch of nightmares, after all, hadn’t been francis’ fault any more than the first ones had been.

when all the world shall melt by neverfaraway (8/8 | 49k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; somebody lives/not everyone dies; fix-it; pining 

i’ll not have a picture, he thinks, gazing grimly at james’ drawn, damaged face. i’ll not have a miniature to tuck inside my breast pocket, or a sketch made on a winter’s evening by the fireside. it will be my own burden to remember him, until such a time as this cursed land takes me, too. twenty five men return to england. for francis, this means making a poor job of keeping james from scuttling his career, and working out what a sea captain might do with himself in the absence of a ship.

de remedio amoris by crownlessliestheking (1/1 | 14k+ | Ex) fitzier; past/background francis/sir james; canon divergence; introspection; pining

francis has always been a grasping thing. covetous to the last, drenched in vice, and gripping tight to whoever—whatever—is closest, be it james ross or sophia or the the neck of a bottle. or all three. now, there is james fitzjames.

a moon-blanched land by wildcard_47 (10/10 | 44k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; sharing a bed; hurt/comfort; retirement; pining

almost a year after their return to england, francis crozier is tired of london society and tired of fighting an inexplicable restlessness. when given the chance to move to a seaside cottage with his former second, james fitzjames, how can he refuse?

so much spring by icicaille (1/1 | 17k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; emotional hurt/comfort; angst with a happy ending; pining 

in the half-year since their return, francis had become aloof, impassive, withdrawn. there was no logic to this strange metamorphosis. at greenhithe, francis had promised to look after him. had told james: come find me. yet francis had never been further out of reach. on a cold spring day in 1849, francis drops everything and flees london for his sister's farm in ireland. james, hurt and hungry for answers, gives chase.

what ice does by what_alchemy (4/4 | 44k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; internalized homophobia; sharing a room; slow burn

captain parry’s third arctic expedition takes a year longer to prepare than planned. it leaves in 1825 with ship’s boy james fitzjames aboard HMS hecla. master's mate francis crozier takes him under his wing. this changes everything.

a pair of finches in a brass cage by fiendlikequeen (1/1 | 5k+ | M) fitzier; unrequited francis/sir james; canon divergence; POV sir james; accidental voyeurism

james clark ross brought francis crozier back from the arctic, but he finds francis a changed man—perhaps the most striking change being francis's constant companion, james fitzjames. james discovers, only partly by accident, the true nature of the relationship between francis and fitzjames.

i'll describe the way i feel, weeping wounds that never heal by velocity_owl87 (8/8 | 26k+ | T)  fitzier; canon divergence; hurt/comfort; career ending injuries; recovery; introspection

by sheer blind luck ross manages to find the remaining members of the franklin expedition, many of whom are at death's door. one of these being commander fitzjames and the main concern of crozier, whom ross judges far changed in ways he can't begin to understand. he offers his friend and fitzjames a place to recover while francis faces both external conflicts and comes to realisations about his life, his ambitions...And the person he wants to have with him for the rest of his life. all the while fitzjames struggles with coming to terms with lingering injuries, the ordeal of being known, and the possibility of finally getting his heart's desire.

trafalgar, happier by fiendlikequeen (1/1 | 17k+ | Ex) fitzier; francis/sir james; canon divergence; jealousy; accidental voyeurism; angst with a happy ending

james fitzjames has decided that he is perfectly ambivalent about death— provided he may die with francis crozier by his side. but when james clark ross arrives with both a rescue party and competing affections for francis, things change.

the devils before us by masterofallimagination (6/6 | 42k+ | T)  fitzier; canon divergence; somebody lives/not everyone dies; slow burn; pining

after five years in the arctic, francis and james return to england and begin the long journey home.

starcross by reinetta (1/1 | 17k+ | Ex)  fitzier; au–historical; au–regency; misunderstandings; enemies to friends to lovers

“there is barely a ribbon or a feather or a scrap of silk left this side of exeter.” “no woman under thirty is left unmoved,” tom said, grinning around the stem of his pipe. “even our essie is taken up with the idea!” esther’s dark eyes were dancing in the firelight. “though she is far too young to think of marrying at present—least of all to mr. james fitzjames.”

sleeping felt like lies by the_ocean_weekender (2/2 | 41k+ | T) fitzier; canon divergence; flatmates; depression; angst with a happy ending

escaping the ice is more down to sheer dumb luck than any happenstance of sight, divine intervention, or the not-insignificant amount of skill their crews bring to the occasion, but they all get out alive (bar unfortunate souls sir john and cornelius hickey, whose deaths are viewed by many as, contrarily, rather fortunate.) now, in london, pressed by commander fitzjames to saving their navy half-pay by sharing rooms together, crozier is struggling to return to normality. it would help, he admits begrudgingly, if he could tell the difference between dreams blessed/cursed by the sight and just good old trauma-induced nightmares. and if he hadn’t started to develop feelings for the man who, even ridden with scurvy, still deserved the title ‘handsomest man in the royal navy’.

never seek him, defiantly, at night by veganthranduil (1/1 | 17k+ | M) fitzier; canon divergence; slow burn; bunkmates; recovery; pining; alcoholism 

“the loss of a ship is a small price to pay for the completion of the passage, wouldn’t you say?” james said, employing his best smile. make it look easy, make it look painless, and people would gladly follow you—he’d learnt that early on. “well i’d not thought to see it,” said sir john, looking between the two of them. “if both of you are of one mind, there must be some truth to it. very well.” he clapped his hands together. “francis, james, the two of you can figure out the logistics. i’ll inform the men after david young’s funeral service. begin preparations immediately.”

to be made whole again by 5runner5 (10/10 | 29k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; eating disorder; survivor guilt; recovery; nightmares

james bit into a laden slice of toast with the undamaged side of his mouth. “i thought we agreed that thinking was very dangerous,” he said, and though his voice was light francis could feel a weight behind it. it was a weight made up of sleepless nights and crying jags; of francis punching a solid wall and of james shouting himself hoarse; of the unbearable social calls and wrenching letters and pitying looks which they could not avoid. they carried a great many heavy things with them, now. london, 1848: francis and james try to put themselves back together.

each mortal thing by jouissant (6/6 | 26k+ | M) fitzier; canon divergence; friends to lovers; gender identity; the dress

truth is a concept with which james fitzjames has been variously acquainted.

pressure ridge by alitneroon (8/8 | 18k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; missing scenes; POV alternating; happy ending 

here, so far away from the world, it felt as though consequences didn’t exist. he’d already been through so much with the men, he almost imagined that they could know about this too and understand, that it wouldn’t matter. despite everything, the bleakness of the landscape and the food that was slowly killing them, francis managed to find a moment or two of happiness when he was with james.

SWIPE RIGHT (or: THE TINDER AU) by caravaggiosbrushes (2/2 | 29k+ | Ex) fitzier; au–modern setting; POV francis; falling in love; author james; fluff

francis is 51, single, almost two years sober. he has a nice job, a dog, and a tinder profile he doesn’t use that much. one night, he decides to give the app another try. the rest is, as they say, history.

between the pain and the treasure by mysleepyrambles (2/2 | 22k+ | M) fitzier; canon divergence; hopeful ending; slow burn; mutual pining; fix-it

with sir john wilfully blind to the danger they are in, francis takes matters into his own hands.

death is a sailing ship by maleann (7/7 | 27k+ | M) fitzier; canon compliant; canon-typical violence; afterlife; POV james; body horror

james had died knowing that his heart, the core of his very being that no biographer would ever know, would carry on in francis crozier. would be protected, cherished even, because francis deemed him worthy of such care. oh, how he had loved francis then. he had been at peace with this being his last living thought. it’s his only thought now. in this undead life, his love has nowhere to go. james fitzjames wakes up in the afterlife. it looks strangely similar to his cabin on erebus.

one fast move or i’m gone by cosmogram (3/3 | 25k+ | Ex) fitzier; unrequited james/dundy; POV dundy; au–modern setting; au–academia

in a lifetime of unsubtleties, the affair with crozier is james’s worst. crozier’s hand resting on james’s lower back, there for all to see. crozier’s fingers nudging gently at james’s shirtcuffs when they stood around at receptions; crozier’s pale eyes going soft and foolish when james entered the room. sometimes simply crozier’s nod, sharp and proprietary, as though to say get upstairs, get in my office, close the door—as if the rest of them were not right there. or, the one where james and dundy are bright young things (baby post-docs) in english literature, and there’s a cranky new professor in town...

let the river rush in, not wash away by kt_fairy (4/4 | 27k+ | Ex) fitzier; canon divergence; established relationship; crossdressing; internalized homophobia

“it’s not something you wish known when you look like i do, i have learnt. ‘handsomest man in the royal navy’ feeling…” he shot a look at francis before bowing his face towards his teacup. “i had enough on the line, with my parentage, without everyone guessing how...how fine i felt in that dress. how soft and light and bright i felt, playing the very opposite of all i try to be.” or most people come home, boundaries are set, james (eventually) gets a dress.

let us live now / only this by furiously, ilcardinalecheballa (5/5 | 25k+ | T)  fitzier; canon divergence; slow burn; mutual pining; flatmates; friends to lovers

“i've put in for another commission.” james' voice was perfectly ordinary: so much so, in fact, that francis was sure, for the space of two blissful seconds, that he must have misheard. francis crozier and james fitzjames are alive. they are home. so are most of their men. but coming home—coming home together—is a more complicated proposition than it had at first glance appeared. then james' career comes to call.

'tis past, and so am i by glassessay (1/1 | 26k+ | T) fitzier; time travel fix-it; everyone lives/nobody dies (eventually); POV james

james fitzjames dies as francis cries above him, bleeding out of too-old wounds and thinking if only we had known. he opens his eyes in his cabin.

seen by ktula (9/9 | 97k+ | Ex) fitzier; au–modern setting; BDSM; slow burn; author francis; explicit sexual content

against his better judgement, francis crozier goes to a kink convention in canada to promote his new book. it's the dead of winter, and he has a vague suspicion he should have stayed home. then he meets james fitzjames, and confirms his suspicion is correct.

paper boats by Kt_fairy (4/4 | 25k+ | M) fitzier; pre-canon; canon divergence; gender identity; period typical attitudes; the dress

james did not feel quite like himself, dressed up like a sailor. and, strangely, feeling unlike himself was rather satisfying. he supposed it was all the change going on. in a few days he would step onto the pyramus and begin his life at sea, in the hope it was vast and varied enough that it contained a place where someone like him might be able to be honest about themselves, and still live a good life. or james fitzjames goes to sea, finds a place for himself, then finds a way to be himself.

rotten work by for_autumn_i_am (1/1 | 26k+ | Ex) fitzier; au–modern setting; coworkers; pining; misunderstandings; enemies to friends to lovers

james fitzjames, COO of erebus voyages, has a tragic crush on his straight colleague, francis crozier. (well. he thinks francis is straight.) there’s no way his tender feelings will ever be returned, is there?

don’t you (forget about me) by soft_october (1/1 | 6k+ | G) fitzier; canon divergence; POV sir james; outsider POV; misunderstandings; secret relationship

all oddities were temporary anyway! they were going home, francis would be well again, the enterprise would soon return to england, and there would be a farce of a court martial before a knighthood for francis and an easy retirement. and as for fitzjames…well, fitzjames would be reassigned, of course, continue his meteoric rise within the ranks of the navy. he would send a suitable number of letters to francis from somewhere exotic and warm before the draw of newer company turned his thoughts away from the arctic, and those who came with it. after rescuing the remnants of the franklin expedition from the ice, ross would prefer everything go back to normal. it doesn't.

some unknown tropical bird by hauntinghouses (1/1 | 4k+ | T) fitzier; canon divergence; ghosts; supernatural elements; fix-it; angst w/ a happy ending

even after returning to england, francis crozier is haunted by the past.

[king-midas-fortnite]

7, 8, 16

Do you have any memories of your home reality, and would you ever want to go back?

Plenty of memories, yes. Most of them fond, but...not all. 

As for whether or not I'd ever return, I'm not sure. It's been so long now that I'm not certain there'd be anything to go back to. And, it's not like I don't have parts of home here now with some of my old Gods still lingering about the island. Thrilled as I am about that.

Do you have any snapshots that you know of? Do you get along with them?

I know of a few, but only one I have actually met, and who I care deeply for. Marigold is a dear friend of mine. My escape from Hades was possible due in large part to her efforts. Even with that monumental favor aside, my connection with her is invaluable. I believe I've mentioned it before, but it's not exactly often I get to speak with someone about Dionysus' gift who understands completely.

Have any events or changes to the island impacted your life significantly?

Aha, I'd say. As I said before, the gods from my old life being brought here was certainly impactful. Both opportune in that it let me escape the underworld and return here without my reboot card (that I'm sure is sitting somewhere at the bottom of the ocean), and rather irritating that some are still here. 

That's not to mention the changes caused by IO's meddling interference with my device. All that water brought in. And the sharks...anyway. This place has gone through many changes, all of which have greatly impacted the way I live and conduct business.

I'm still getting used to the Wasteland.

[hopeful-hugz]

"Weeeeeeell, HELLO THERE and welcome to another hair-raising and thrilling episode of Real-Time Races!"

It's a voice, carrying an announcer's tone of voice, that jolts Melody out of her rather short sleep mode. Scrambling to her feet and glancing around. That hadn't been a voice she knew. Not in the slightest, nor was it a face she knew that popped into reality right next to her.

Donning a skirt and the colorful coat of a gameshow host, he seems to pay her startled yelp no mind whatsoever

"I'm your ever vigilant host, L! Here to bring you only the most adrenaline-pumping of challenges from our lovely contestants!" The microphone he holds is shifted to his other hand, his now-free one pulling Melody in. The FLINCH is wholly disregarded as he continues. "This episode we have a lovely teenager by the name of DLN-000; Melody Raydeo! Recently having been stranded in a barren, frosty wasteland and left to fend for herself, I know she is bound to have the determination to pull through today's challenge!"

The being's three tails sprawl out from behind him, already giving himself away as a Nagete. Much to Melody's clear horror, evidently. She's not able to say much before the host snaps his fingers, teleporting them out to a random part of the planet. "We now come to you from about a forty-eight hours' trek from this lovely lass' camp!" Leah grins, turning to Melody and placing a hand on her shoulder. "My dear, your challenge is simple! Locate and return to your camp within the next thirty-two hours, with just the things in the bag on your shoulder, and I will give you something that will help your chances here GREATLY!"

"N- now wait just a minute-" The android finally gets a word in, moving the microphone put in her face to the side. "I never signed up for any challenge or chose to participate in such a thing! Nor would I; that would pose an unnecessary danger to myself and my mission!"

The protest gets a laugh from the show host, floating into the air as her does so. "OH MY DEAR! Look around you! We're already out here and I am certainly not taking you back, now that you've been chosen!"

He leans in, grinning.

"Sweet, Sweet Melody: You don't have a choice!"

Then he backs back up. "Then again, when have you had any choices on this life-forsaken planet? In the palm of everyone's hands and claws you are!"

"Good luck, my dear~! Try not to become a drone's next little snack; because the challenge ends the moment your ghost leaves that adorable little body of yours!" With an announcement of "CHALLENGE BEGIN" announced through the air, Leah vanishes after saying an outro to no one she can see and the robot master is left out on her own.

And it actually hits her that she's alone, completely and fully. "Oh sweet Asimov, no..."

Nothing left to do but bring up her phone tracker on her hud and follow the signal of the device still at camp. Hopefully this wouldn't be too hard...

[corporatefallout]

Karma list

The ideas I have regarding their Karma status and my reasons. May be changed down the road of course!

(Ps- using karma names for descriptors, not level or power stats)

Neutral Karma

Buck Ruffler Drifter

A complete gambler. At most he's simply just that.

Holly Graylle (morally grey) Beholder

Her dedication towards the Brotherhood of Steel is the main reason to why. Her focuses are solely towards the cause of technology. Not one to help a person in need if it's not part of the mission. But her morals redeem it.

Prester Virgil (morally grey) Egocentric

As a Minutemen member, he protects settlements and helps those in need. But due to paranoia of synths, acts of murder and threats has been committed. Done in good intent but that doesn't mean it's no longer bad anymore.

Cathal Bravecog Observer

Simply not involved within the wasteland or anything of it.

Tawney Esta Mercenary

Hired assassin. Whether it be a good or evil person being targeted, it's a job to do.

Graham Payser Renegade

Here for a good time and a thrill. Certainly not to the level of a raider, of course. But not actively pursing good or bad.

Evil Karma

Spruce Campbell Reaver

Acts done out of both survival and own wants. Certainly not to the lines of murder but more upon lying and stealing. Although not caring about the outcome to the other person's side.

Chip Revvington Reaver

As the same with Spruce, lying and stealing. But would be more prone towards the acts of threatening or harm. Both working together for self gains.

(Both work together. They're thieves and con men but both are never to the lines of a raider.)

Good Karma

Misty Monsoon Martyr

More sympathetic than most you'll meet in the wasteland. Whether it be helping an injured in need or returning the unhatched egg of a death deathclaw. It's just confidence that stops her.

Benjamin Biggs Samaritan

Even if his medical services are up for hire, he is to be the one to help those in need along the way.

Dave Brubot Dignitary

Not outright doing good acts since he's mostly seen on stage, but that doesn't mean he has a good heart and mind.

Flint Bonpyre Samaritan

Even if he doesn't fully admit his opinions, he has good morals and some past actions. Although not actively doing it.

Very Evil Karma

Brian Fiend

Beliefs of the Institute still stick. Will not murder for the "fun" of it but would be prone to more cruel acts if it means to raise probabilities of survival without any empathy.

Cosmo Kuiper Defiler

Acts being done out of greed. Whether it be verbally threatening those in debt to pay up or to physically threaten those into paying more. Little to no care in regards of the other person's situation in favor of own wants.

Very Good Karma

Mary Anna Exemplar

A helping hand for sure. Willing to help those in need that she comes across. Her strong hope in the future and survival of humanity is what keeps her to continue aiding those in need.

Belle Dama Urban Defender

A past lawbringer of the Regulators. Carrying strong hope and great morals. Even when her days are behind her, she still holds that sense of justice.

(Pps, this is my own thoughts on them so don't take them seriously qhdjkqodqhkdkqwk. Yea.)

[3xm-draconic]

The Jester and The Courier: a wild wasteland love

Chapter 11: Only God Knows.

The Atomic Wrangler was not what Cicero was expecting, then again he had never been in a “casino” before, it was dark and filled with the scent of smoke and alcohol, there were strange machines and tables where card games were played.

“Hey Myr-FUCK!” a man behind the bar suddenly jumped as he saw Cicero, “oh…sorry James, forgot you had a fear of clowns, this is my buddy Cicero he’s new to the Mojave and I’am showing him around”, “to the whole Mojave?” a woman cleaning glasses pondered “yep, new to the whole of Nevada actually, comes from WAY up north, Francine” Myrtle said as she took a seat at the bar. 

James snuck away to the back of the bar to get away from Cicero while Myrtle and Francine chatted…seeing the fear in this man…this triggered a twitch in Cicero’s brain, an old itch he HAS to scratch…

It’s been a while since he’s killed someone…

“Cicero…um…needs to…” he looked around, “do you need to go pee?” Myrtle eyed him as he danced around a little, Cicero nodded, “C’mon, over here, I’ll show you” she said as she led him down a hallway and to a door “in there”.

Cicero zipped inside and Myrtle left…

Myrtle returned to her barstool and sat with her friends “can I?-”, a plate was then sat in front of her, “2 Lake Lurk lady-rolls with extra butter and iced nuka-cola?” Francine smirked “I know your friday usual” she chuckled.

Inside the bathroom was a small window, just big enough for Cicero to squeeze through, he knew he had to be quick if he wanted to remain appearing innocent …if a little strange…

Cicero hopped out the window and creeped through the alleyways…

Oh, OH how he has missed this, slunking and slinking through shadows, crawling and creeping like a spider in the night…

He savored the THRILL of the HUNT…

Finally he caught the glimpse of someone, in the alleyway was a man in a suave suit, a poor man Cicero will send to Sithis…

He crept up and grabbed the man by the mouth, locking him into a body lock and holding the blade to his throat…

“Hush now, Cicero will send you to the void soon~” he hummed, his muffled cries for help sounded so sweet, such soft music to Cicero’s ears…

Cicero slid the blade down to the man’s chest, the knife’s tip easily piercing the skin and sending a tiny stream of beautiful, beautiful ruby ichor  against his tan skin…

Cicero sucked in a deep breath as he raised the knife high into the air…

STAB, down it whent and the man’s muffled cry, his pleas for mercy, to be spared fell on deaf ears.

Warm hot blood trickled from the man’s mouth onto Cicero’s hand…oh Sithis the rush he felt…

STAB, twice he brought it down into the man’s chest, blood spurting out like a fountain of crimson.

The smell of blood in the air…the whimpers and cries…the body squirming beneath his…

Cicero drank it all in…he longed to do this…to be an assassin again…

STAB, thrice he plunged the gorgeous knife that gleemed so brightly into the man’s chest, there was a stillness in the man

Cicero sighed contently…he needed that.

He made it back to the Atomic Wrangler’s bathroom and washed himself of blood, he looked in the mirror and saw a picture behind him…it was of Myrtle…in THAT black dress…the one that showed her legs…her chest…that clung tight to her waist… 

Cicero’s stomach flipped in knots, the rush of murder mixed with…this…lustful feeling…

Oh sweet Sithis…

Cicero shook his head and splashed water on his face, no, No, NO! He can’t be thinking of such things…

He thought about his duties as Keeper of The Night Mother, they said he could not do such things as…well…they didn’t explicitly say…

They just said he could not hold anyone above the Night Mother and Sithis, that usually ment Keepers were never married and never had special partners…

He…he could…technically…

There was a knock at the door “hey bud you’ve been in there a while” Myrtle called out, “OH, yes…Cicero will be out in a moment, just washing his hands!”

Cicero cleaned himself up and made sure there was no trace of blood.

Lunch was amazing, Cicero had never eaten anything as good as Lake Lurk meat, it was even better than mudcrab!, “mmm…what is a lake lurk?” He turned to Myrtle who was sipping her drink and watching Boone teach Joshua how to play pool.

“Hmm…they are these Abe-sapien wannabe lookin-ass motherfuckers” she shrugged, “...that does not help…Cicero has no idea what you just said?”, “oh…well I’ll take you hunting for them some time and I’ll show you then, I can’t really explain what they look like other than the creature from the black lagoon’s bootleg cousin”.

They were on their way back to the 38 when one of The Followers came up to them “oh sweet mercy, Myrtle there’s been a murder”, “what?!” Myrtle gasped, “over by the old Silver Rush, we found a body, please we need your help”.

Cicero got a little nervous…what if she found out?

“On it, I’ll-”, “why doesn't Boone take this one Myrt? You have a lot on your plate right now” Joshua butted in, “But I-”, “and you and I need to have a chat”, Myrtle sighed “I’ll call up Gannon, see if he can do a forensic autopsy on the body, find out how the victim died” she turned to Cicero “I’am gonna hand you over to Lily and Raul. Lilly’s a sweet gal, basically my third grandma, you’ll love her and Raul is one of my oldest friends, been with me almost as long as Boone”, Cicero pondered “Can Cicero help with the murder? He’s very good at mysteries!”. “eh…I don’t know” Myrtle sighed “you have any skills in medicine?”, “Oh yes, YES! Cicero knows all about corpses, for a time he was a mortician!”, “...well…that…that is certainly interesting…and could be helpful” Myrtle nervously laughed, “talk with Gannon, you can work together on this.” 

Joshua and her then returned to the 38…

(Outside the Old Silver Rush)

Gannon looked at the body, Cicero knelt beside him examining it closely…

“Hmm…the man was stabbed to death with a combat knife” Arcade turned to Boone, “ok…not uncommon…combat knives are easy to get”, Arcade shook his head “a special kind of combat knife…” he sighed “notice the serrations on the sternum?...on the top and bottom of the bone?...that’s caused by a 1.9mm double serrated edged blade” he deduced “only 2 blades like that exist…standard issue NCR multi tool knives…and Myrt’s blade: Longinus”.

Boone glanced at Cicero while Gannon checked the body for more clues…

“You were in the bathroom a long time”, Cicero nervously chuckled “big bladder” he lied, “hold up, I found something” Gannon got up and showed Boon and Cicero 6 little golden coins that looked like septims and a strange little metal box “Legion Denirises…and a holotape”.

Boone and Gannon looked at eachother “well…this makes things more interesting…”

They took the holotape to a holotape player at the Mormon fort and listened to it…

“Haec est vestra missio. Inveni et ligones dominam necare. quod facere debetis. ad gloriam cesar!”

“Any idea on what it said?” Boone turned to Gannon, “no…I don’t know enough ancient languages to understand latin”, “Latin?...is this language of your close  to Imperial? Because Cicero understood what it said”, Boone and Gannon turned to him “well…what did it say?”, “oh it talked about killing a “lady of spades”...OH! That's Miss Myrtle!” Cicero realized.

Boone sighed in relief “welp at least…we can rule this one off as stopping an act of terrorism instead of murder”, Gannon pause “but…who knew he was an assassin?”.

Cicero giggled quietly to himself…

(At the 38)

“Joshua I-”, “would you like some cocoa?”, “what?” Myrtle bliked, “would you like some cocoa? I think we should have some while we discuss what troubles you, chocolate has been known to release endorphins and make you feel happy, I want you to be happy Myrt, even when you are feeling down I want you to try and look for something positive, a “light in darkness” if you will” he chuckled. Myrtle nodded and took the cup of hot chocolate from him.

“Now…what troubles you?”, Myrtle was quiet for a time “it’s…it’s Lanius, Joshua I…I CAN’T” she screamed “I CAN’T FIGHT HIM, he’s a walking army and I’ve gone through life basse on my luck…I’am sorry…but I…I can’t do it…but I have to”, “why do you feel that way? Why do you feel that you Can’t…but Must?” he said as he dipped a cookie into his cocoa.

“Because I Am THE COURIER 6, people see me as some sort of Messiah of the Mojave, they treat me like I am a god sent gift, that I will deliver them from the evils of the Legion, the raider gangs and everything else!” she covered her face with her hands “I FEEL LIKE IF I FAIL THEM THEN I’AM WORTHLESS…that I failed her…” she sobbed.

Joshua sighed and patted her shoulder “so you turned to vices and unhealthy ways of dealing with stress”, “yeah…fucked up right?, I’am supposed to be a beacon of hope for people and hear I am being just as bad as any chem fiend” she mumbled “what a hypocrite am I?” she laughed, Joshua sighed “we are all hypocrites, it is our nature, we are but humans. Just as is in our nature to be afraid” he hugged her “Myrt…I don’t blame you for being scared of Lanius…I’am quite frightened of him myself…but you know better”.

He looked into her eyes, his gaze soft and understanding “you have us, you have your faith and you have courage in your heart. You want to know something that I think?”, “what?”, “I think that the son of god had the courage to give his life for others because he loved them, not because it was his duty”.

Myrtle hugged Josua tightly “thanks…I needed this…I-I should talk with the others though…apologies…for getting snippy with them…especially Boone”, “if you ever have doubt in your heart, come to us, we will help you, always” he said with a gentle smile.

[cheemken]

Hey knight I was wondering about the Unova kids and like, how did they reveal they were the ones commanding the three dragons? Like was it the first time they fused the three together? Or was that a different thing? I’m just confused cause we had the six of them with the original dragon but then Bianca had Reshiram after the reveal

Also was there any suspicion among the public if there was someone controlling the dragons? Or did people just think the Tao Trio were angry or something?

Last question but how do you think the League reacted to see both their champions and one gym leader commanding the original dragon to cause destruction and chaos?

Okay what I had in mind is that the first time they fused the dragons it was like a test run, and like, I wanna say that they can unfuse(?) them too whenever they want or when they want to cause destruction at different parts of Unova at the same time, and ofc, the dragons went w it bc it'll also show that even tho they aren't fused as one, they're still powerful separated

And like,, imagine tho that like, yeah the first attack was at Opelucid, and ofc idk if anyone survived the attack there, but if there is or are, then imagine them running to Icirrus, calling for help, telling the people there of what happened in Opelucid. And like, idk if that guy did see Iris w the rest of the Unova kids, or maybe he did but he couldn't tell who they really were bc he was already panicking ofc. But I wanna say he saw one of the kids, Iris maybe bc ofc, she had this confrontation with Drayden probably and ough that would hurt fr cbdmcbdn

Ah anyways hahaha yeah guy got to Icirrus, and like, yeah, guy was vibing, the people of Icirrus was there trying to calm him down, then he told them of a dragon pkmn, Drayden confronted the one behind it, but the man wasn't sure who it really was. Ofc, that send the alarms off their head, as a few of them followed the man to Opelucid. When they got to Route 9, a suddenly thunderstorm raged on, but they pushed through, and as they got to Opelucid, it was even more of a frozen wasteland than Icirrus. Frozen corpses scatter around the once vibrant city, Drayden was there on the ground, lifeless as his blood pooled beneath him, coating the ice and snow with a deep crimson colour. It was a horrific sight, as the man rushed to his already dead family and pokemon, the people of Icirrus called Brycen, telling him of what happened, and thus Brycen then informed the League, he decided to return to Icirrus to watch over it once again.

Meanwhile, the kids are there at the league, the Dragon unfused, back to their respective pokeballs, to not draw any more attention. With the thrill of that power of the original dragon, they decided they'd fuse it again soon, but for now, they'd have to stay inconspicuous, and thus the dragons were separated. Hilbert and Iris did get the message from Brycen, and Hilbert could only smirk as he looks at Iris, telling her that she has to do an act so believable that she actually mourns Drayden. Iris scoffed, saying the Unovan people are stupid enough to believe her faux grief, and they started planning more. Hilbert headed to Mistralton with Hilda and Zekrom. Cheren went back to Aspertia, playing the role of a concerned Gym leader, N went to Lacunosa, watching and waiting if the people there already heard news of what happened to Opelucid, Kyurem was with him. Tho yeah, before Bianca could head back to Nuvema, this happened, and yeah Reshiram went with her, which then left Iris at the league. Preparing her lil act when she gets back to Opelucid.

But also it'd be dope y'know, if N and Iris did meet up before Iris went to Opelucid. Like,, yeah, they planned shit, when they got to Opelucid, Iris was there acting all sad and such, a few of the people there was comforting her, but like,,,, oughgvhjchcjd your honour fucking imagine, as she's there clutching Drayden's body, she smirked, laughing, going "oh grandpa... If you weren't so weak, this wouldn't have happened." And that surprised the people there with her, before they can react, N was already there with Kyurem, Iris gave them a smirk as she went to N's side, N was there looking at the people with no emotions in his eyes. Imagine if N still wanted them to give up their pkmn to him, as he still doesn't want to hurt them, and he made an empty promise if they do, they might grant mercy. So ofc, they gave him the pokeballs that had their pkmn in it, hoping it's really be enough that they'd get spared.

When N finally got them, he turned to Iris, "my friends are safe now.. do whatever you want with the rest." As he looks at the people with them, and he turned, leaving them. Iris could only smirk, watching the horror in their eyes as they finally met their fate at the piercing ice of Kyurem's Glaciate.

If Brycen did hear abt that tho, imagine him rushing to Opelucid only to see Iris there w Kyurem. Fuck imagine chdmdb imagine the betrayal he feels, Iris is there looking almost bored as she kicked around one of the frozen limbs of someone dead. Imagine him rushing to call in the league, as he tries to fight off Iris, only to also meet his fate not by Kyurem's Glaciate, but Iris impaling him with a stray icicle. Iris knew the message got to the league, got to Hilbert, and that was enough for the twins to start their own attack in Mistralton too, Skyla never stood a chance, but she managed to inform the league of Hilbert also attacking Mistralton, and god imagine as Skyla is fighting for her life, the rest of the Gym Leaders and Elite Four were panicking at where Brycen was, and what drove both their Champions to even commit such acts.

[jefarawol]

I'm rather busy at the moment, old girl. Guarding this tavern, as it were.

I just came to see how you were, Artoirel said you were assigned duties here-

Oh, I see now. Artoirel thought I might be derelict in my duties, eh? The nerve of my brother to question my dedication!

Oh indeed.

But since you are here, mayhap I can put you to proper use. The wasteland beyond the walls must be kept safe for travelers, yet I have been forbidden from leaving Falcon's Nest.

Is that so?

It wouldn't do for our esteemed guests to be devoured by wolves, oh no. Yet that is precisely what will happen if we do not cull the roaming packs! I'll leave you to it, old girl. Come, Honoroit─I must return to my rounds!

Oh dear...do be careful, my lady.

Typical Emmanellain, always ready to shirk his responsibilities. I was in the mind to refuse him, but something was better to do than nothing. So I headed out to where he had directed me and as promised wolves roamed where the ordinarily would not.

It was easy work, and the pelts would be useful to the people who resided here. Emmanellain found me again when I returned

Jefara, Wolves' Bane! It pleases me to inform you that I have completed my rounds, and that all is well in Falcon's Nest.

Good Job Emmanellain.

Oh, and there was a grizzled fellow looking for you. You know, the one who made that arsonist confess. Clever, that. Thancred, was it?

Thancred is here?

He was asking after you. Anyway, once I noticed the garish weapons he was sporting, I deemed it a waste to leave him be.

Emmanellain...

I dispatched him to an area I neglected to tell you about. If you hurry, he might still be there.

I felt my irritation rise as Emmanellain continued to talk over me. But he finally divulged the way in which he had sent Thancred packing. I hadn't seen him since he had stormed out of

Fancy meeting you here, Jefara.

Thancred!

'Twas fortunate I came when I did. These two would not have fared well against the wolves on their own. 

Ahh. a similar task to my own.

The young lord wasted no time taking advantage of you, did he? And me, I suppose. Let us return to Falcon's Nest, then, and see what other thrilling tasks he may have for us.

Thancred was intent on not mentioning our recent trip to Dravania, nor could I blame him. I had ran to Aymeric to mask my own feelings. I couldn't imagine what he was going through at that time. I didnt want to force the subject so we returned to the Falcon's nest in relative silence.

And there they are, a pair of gallant heroes if I ever saw them. Comrades-in-arms, reunited at last. By your selfless sacrifice have you guaranteed the safety of our many guests. On behalf of Ishgard, I thank you both. And with that, there is naught left to do but to enjoy our well-earned respite.

Why thank you Emmanellain!

Oh, and this should of course go without saying, but let's keep those last few favors between us, yes? Artoirel wouldn't understand. 

Of course not.

Right, then─the first floor of those barracks has been converted into a tavern for the duration of the conference. Why don't you go and have something to eat?

For once, a suggestion with which I agree. Go on ahead, Jefara. I will join you anon.