#you could probably write an essay about the reasons for any of the three

[gnome-adjacent-vagabond]

Psst hey *pulls you closer* Canon middle-aged queer relationships and multiple canon queer/queer-coded characters. *lets you go* Go watch Venture Bros.

There are WAY more than these but I can't put em all up here because queer coding is up to interpretation. I say that everyone in Venture Bros is queer until proven straight but that's just me.

I wrote a whole-ass essay and then accidentally deleted it so the wording on this will probably be off, but it feels important so I'm gonna try be succinct.

Minor spoilers ahead! Skip paragraph three if you don't want those, then resume on paragraph four.

Full disclosure, this is a show that started in the early 2000s and has a LOT of issues in the first few seasons as well as a couple in the later seasons. There are transphobic and homophobic jokes, ableism, racism, and sexism. Sergeant Hatred is a walking trigger warning for about three seasons straight. It goes without saying but I'll say it anyway: DON'T watch this show if you have multiple triggers or are easily offended.

Having said that, these writers realized the problems with what they were writing and have worked to remedy those issues through commentary, retconning, and public acknowledgement of the early seasons' failings. Their opinions evolve and so does the show.

Shore Leave is a flamboyantly gay man who was initially intended to be a one-off joke about the G.I. Joe series and the Village People. Instead he has morphed into a three-dimensional character who presents comfortably as both masculine and feminine. He's in a loving relationship with another gay man, Al, who is flamboyant but tends to be a little less flashy. Steve Summers and Sasquatch have been a happy couple for years now--and all because the epitome of toxic masculinity, Brock Samson, helps them find a quiet cabin away from the government hunting them. Brock's mentor, Hunter Gathers, is a canonically detransitioned trans woman who struggles with her identity throughout the show (I'm still waiting for her to retransition despite the show's cancellation). Hank is perfectly at ease in a hyperfeminine strength suit, and Dean also goes through identity struggles that are never played for laughs and are heavily if not explicitly queer-coded. Vendata's queerness is understated and exists simply as a fact rather than being joked about. Sky Pilot is similar, though slightly more in Shore Leave's camp in terms of presentation. Sheila and the Monarch are self-proclaimed swingers and could be read to be in a poly relationship with Gary, their henchman. Debbie St. Simone has a rather homoerotic obsession with Sheila and is almost definitely bisexual.

The Venture Bros universe is full of queer rep, and the creators of the show write it in with intention. Doc Hammer and Jackson Publick talk about wanting it to be treated as fact rather than completely defining each of their characters--they talk about how few women are in the show and why (Johnny Quest and G.I. Joe, the inspirations for Venture Bros, are heavily malecentric and there's constant homoeroticism in them for that reason). They acknowledge the flaws and work to improve themselves and their writing. This has culminated in a surprisingly moving series about love, death, grief, trauma, and change that radiates queer subtext from any angle--especially Dean's journey.

Try the show at least up to season 4. The first three seasons are on Netflix and the rest are on Adult Swim. If you still don't like it, that's fine. Thank you for trying! Just know that it's out there and that it's an example of how human beings can change and become better people. Doc Hammer and Jackson Publick aren't perfect and neither is the Venture Bros, but for what it is it's a damn fun (shockingly so) show.

[ihopeiexplode]

📱 “Past is Past right?” [ ← Previous | Next → ]

—

Yuji would be sitting on his couch watching a movie clearly more focused on it rather than the knocks on the door..

It's been exactly 5 minutes before Yuji finally noticed..he'd get up and make his way towards the door, as he opened it he was greeted with 3 familiar figures, gojo, nanami and yuki

"hii!! Do you guys need something?"

He'd say before welcoming the 3 of them with a smile as they sat on the couch with Yuji making his way and taking a seat in the middle,

Before he knew it all eyes were on him

"Soooo yuji im pretty sure you know what's going on with y/n and Sukuna right??"

Gojo would ask with Yuki following along

"and we were wondering if you could tell us what's going on with them"

"nuh uh I'm not telling, sukuna threatened me not to tell anyone.."

"awhhh cmonn If you tell us I'll help set you up with anyone you want"

Before gojo would finish, nanami would step in

"enough you two."

Both gojo and yuki would scoff and just stayed silent,

"as gojo said Yuji, we want to know more about sukunas and y/n's relationship, if that's fine with you of course,"

"..."

"honestly..if I'm being honest I've been DYING. to tell somebody!"

The 3 of them look at each other before looking back at Yuji, paying close attention to whatever he has to say

"basically!"

"sukuna and y/n known each other since elementary I think?..but anyways! Sukuna told me he liked her ever since they started talking apparently his reasoning is because she was kind and friendly to him while everyone else was scared of him"

"and then during third year highschool I think..? Sukuna and her grew closer, he was even planning on confessing after so long, so he planned it all out, getting her favorite flowers and putting it in her locker and even made a cute little note telling her to meet him somewhere, but he never said his name anddd he probably should've.. because when he got there"

"he saw y/n and some other guy and what's next made him absolutely furious, guess what.. he saw them kissed?! And then boom he dropped the gift he got for her and left, then apparently the next day y/n told him all about it, turns out the guy she kissed pretended he got her the flowers and gave the letter when in reality it was sukuna who gave it"

"and from then on sukuna was pissed that she believed it from that point on he started avoiding y/n and she probably thought he hated her for no absolute reason, and hear this..just a few months into y/n and that guys relationship the guy cheated on her, so like apparently sukuna saw her crying he really wanted to comfort her and confess that it was him who got her the flowers and the letter, but of course sukunas stubborn, instead he just scoffed and left"

"and apparently again y/n saw him and thought he was making fun of her from that point on they couldn't stand each other!"

"anyways that's it!"

When he finished he saw how shocked they looked

"SO YOUR TELLING ME THEY COULDVE BEEN IN A HAPPY RELATIONSHIP BY NOW IF IT WEREN'T FOR SOME MISUNDERSTANDING?!"

Yuki would yell out

"uh...yes...?"

With that all three of them thanked Yuji before stepping out the house

—

—

Y/n would sit down next to sukuna while there professor was sat from the opposite side of the table,

"I'm glad both of you made it!"

"if your wondering why I called you two here..I checked the project I assigned you both and uhm.."

"it was something for sure..but, you two got the lowest grade out of everyone, and I don't want any of my students failing so I'm giving you two a chance to do better alright?"

"you'll be assigned to a much different project and please do better.."

"if you don't mind me asking, what exactly was wrong with our work?"

"the collage you made was just a bunch of mushed up pictures..."

"this time for your project, the two of you will write daily essays of what you two feel about each other, and for this to work the two of you would need to spend time with each other constantly"

"and If you're gonna wonder why I'm making you do this, it is because the two of you keep bickering with one another..so see this project as something to help you to get along!"

"oh and one more thing, you two can't see each other's essays, both of you will only read them once it's due, and the two of you have exactly one month to do this"

After both sukuna and y/n was out of the classroom they both looked at each other

"this is all your fault."

You'd say as you turned to go face him

"yeah yeah keep yapping, but are we not gonna question what we were assigned to do?"

"oh right..can't we just I don't know fake it?? I don't wanna spend one month with you."

"I'm not that bad, your just being dramatic"

"your whole personality makes me rip my hair off I don't know how Uraume deals with you"

"I don't know how your friends deal with you either, I should ask them to blink twice if they need help, i bet you held them at gun point for them to be friends with you"

"haha very funny."

"anyways, the sooner we do it the faster, where do you wanna meet up?"

"don't know and don't really care either"

"oh alright so your fine with going with me to an Abandon place?"

"and get murdered by you? No thx."

"kidding, we could go to a cafe If you want, I'll pick you up after your classes"

—

—

@-! Likes & Reblogs Are Appreciated ^^

A/N: be honest guys do they act like enemies or just friends who can't stand each other☹️

Taglist: @catobsessedlady @hellomeow12 @0-candlecove-0 @shivzypuff @swirlingcurses @1-800-choke-that-ho @attackonnat @chilichopsticks @getoxmahito @memenojutsu @uhnanix @ichorstainedskin @needtoloveoutloud (comment to be added/removed)

[plusultraetc]

👀👀 you mentioned a sports festival rant?

YES Sports Festival rant!! When I answered this ask about MHA favorites, I 'jotted down a couple of notes about the Sports Festival' which turned into like. A 1.5k word essay. In my defense, this arc truly does have it all, the good, the bad, and the ugly. There's so much to talk about here that 1.5k words doesn't even begin to cover it!!

The Good:

So until now I have been a predominantly anime fan who occasionally reads the manga when I need a quick refresher on something, or I just want to reexperience a chapter through a slightly different lens. That being said, I haven't read through the Sports Festival arc in its entirety, so my opinions are based on the anime, and in the anime, this is genuinely such a fun arc to watch. It has a similar low-stakes-high-energy vibe to Joint Training; the audience is properly introduced to so many new characters and their quirks; and there are some really great emotional beats throughout (shoutout to Todoroki vs Sero. I am HAUNTED by the entire stadium in awe of Todoroki's instant-win juxtaposed with Midoriya thinking 'In that moment, he looked very sad to me.' That split-second moment where Todoroki wonders if not using his father's quirk really makes him any less Endeavor's son? HAUNTED.)

MY PERSONAL FAVORITE PART OF THE ARC: Aizawa & Present Mic's stand up comedy routine in the commentator's booth. They had no reason to be as funny as they were. 'There you have it folks, Eraserhead is a terrible teacher' I mean. I did write a fic about the circumstances leading up to the comedy routine and it is,, not super lighthearted but let's ignore that for now and focus on the silly. I WILL SAY, something else Sports Festival does is constantly remind me that characters like Aizawa, Mic, Midnight, and All Might are products of UA and, in turn, of pro hero society. Those first three especially are products of an All Might-centric pro hero society, which adds another messy layer to the things they are willing to accept and even encourage. Huge brainrot about the pro hero house of cards balanced on the wobbly table that is All Might forever!!

Midoriya is really at his most Midoriya in this arc also. I personally think Izuku is at his best when his ingenuity and empathy are the focus (these are character traits that imo become less and less prominent as the show goes on and his focus shifts to becoming stronger. You can probably pinpoint the exact moment where his priorities change (at least I think so?) and then you could probably write an essay about trauma and responsibility and cry). ANYWAY, early Midoriya is Very Worried All The Time about doing exactly as All Might says, which is why it is so so important that he does not win the Sports Festival. The Festival is kind of a microcosm of the pro hero world, with the medal ceremony being the parallel/precursor for hero rankings. Coming in first place/being Number One is a big big deal in this arc, as always. Izuku's most impactful moment is when he prioritizes something (or someone) else over that coveted first place medal, in spite of how badly he wants to impress All Might and be worthy of his legacy. He was just a really good bean in this arc okay???

The "Bad" (but no less interesting!):

As wonderful as it was to see the pro heroes come to the rescue at USJ, the Sports Festival is here to remind us that, in so many ways, this world is a dystopia. It's not just because of the Hunger Games-esque nature of watching children fight each other & broadcasting it worldwide for entertainment and profit. When you think about it, the Sports Festival is kind of like college-level sports, just with superpowers and high schoolers (there's even a recruitment aspect. It's literally like MHA college football). And sure, fighting each other with superpowers is considerably more violent than your average sport, but they do have people with healing quirks like Recovery Girl on standby. Even serious injuries can literally be undone in seconds. What makes the college sports-ification of hero school so weird is the 'hero' part. Like, not only are you already indoctrinating your future heroes (who have so much relatively unchecked power & responsibility as pros) into the hero/celebrity culture super early on, but the students are competing to impress current pros, secure a good internship, and further their careers. Like. You're essentially teaching them that being a good hero = putting on a good show. Maybe if the point wasn't to 'win' an internship it wouldn't be so strange to me but as is? Wild. Really fun bit of worldbuilding. I am spinning it in my head like a carnival prize wheel.

I also want to take a minute to talk about the medal ceremony here. I thiiink that Bakugou being chained to the podium is meant to be comedic(?), kind of a 'look how mad he is, they literally had to drag him out here' moment, but the conflation of hero/villain imagery in this scene. Omg. Again, the medal ceremony is like a mini hero ranking (that he has won!!!) but the only other time we've seen a muzzle-like thing like the one Bakugou is wearing is on a villain in the first episode. To bring that back at this moment?? The bars of my enclosure. The bars of my english degree. Agh.

I actually mentioned this around the time I posted that very silly Sports Festival fic for Monoma’s birthday, but can we talk about how 1-A IMMEDIATELY turns on each other during this arc? Like?? They’re a MESS. Obv the writing reason for this is that there needs to be competition to make this competition arc interesting (and it succeeds!) but 1-A’s immediate willingness to go for the jugular gets Really Awkward when you realize they are literally the only class that does this—and, what’s more, that there is literally no reason for them to do this. Unnamed 1-C student #3 is right: the other first year classes are only participating in the Festival to make the hero students look good. We know this because the first challenge—the obstacle race—is literally designed to eliminate non-Hero Course students from the competition. Even if hero students didn’t have (generally) more powerful quirks and more training than everyone else, the very first obstacle in the race is the Hero Course Entrance Exam robots—ie, a challenge the hero students have already beaten, but that disqualified students from other courses from admission. Even deliberately hanging back and doing recon, 1-B is able to get all of their students through the obstacle race. Then, after the Cavalry Battle, we see 1-B once again demonstrating a level of maturity and support that the vast majority of 1-A severely lacks. I know I sound like Monoma rn, but I think this has a lot to do with the fact that, as we continue to see throughout the series, 1-A takes a lot of their cues from Midoriya and Bakugou and, to a lesser extent because he’s so quiet, Todoroki. Later, this is a good thing, because the mini big three pushes their class to be the best they can be, but here, these three characters are in shambles—insecure and off-kilter and desperate to prove something, and that energy very much spreads to their peers--which I personally think is great bc it makes for good TV and leaves lots of room for character growth!

The Ugly:

You have no idea how tempted I am to just put a picture of Stain here. He would deserve it for what he did to my man Tensei. I actually love Stain as a villain but SPEAKING OF WHAT HE DID TO MY MAN TENSEI.

The show tells you how important the Sports Festival is. Everyone treats it like it’s the Olympics, except fifty times more important. UA students are scouted by pro heroes and agencies during the event, and putting on a good show can literally change the course of your career (just as doing poorly can ruin it before you even get a chance to graduate). More sports analogies! This makes sense. But the thing is, countless pros show up to watch the event in person. Even more provide security. Literally my first thought was, if I was a criminal I would commit so many crimes during the Sports Festival. Who tf would be around to stop me? And then I had a good laugh because we actually see Shigaraki watching the Festival and I was like ‘oh, there isn’t a spike in villain attacks because the villains are watching it too lol.’

But THEN, Tensei gets attacked by Stain ON THE DAY OF THE FESTIVAL. So there are still heroes out hero-ing and villains out villain-ing, and it’s probably way easier to do the latter when everyone from All Might to Endeavor and beyond are watching teenagers beat the tar out of each other. But you’ve gotta scout those future interns and sidekicks so what are you gonna do!! Once again, the Sports Festival is a microcosm of pro hero popularity society—it’s this insulated little bubble where everyone is so worried about how they look, where they ranked, who they beat to that podium, while the real world carries on outside. Iida himself is distracted by that shiny first place medal until Stain attacking his brother body slams him back to reality.

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

The Uncanny Valley: Final Part

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Summary: Therapy isn't something you're taking too well, but if you want to keep your job, you'll continue to go. you're forced to confront thoughts and memories of your own family when you come across the father of the unsub.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

x

If drugs are being used, then a doctor might know something about it that the team won't. Rossi calls in a doctor who is around all different types of drugs to get a professional opinion on the case.

"So, doctor, if a diabetic were given this battery of drugs to keep her paralyzed, what would the reaction be?"

"Diabetics metabolize everything they consume differently which includes drugs. It all gets broken down to blood sugar at varying rates. Most likely, this patient seized up minutes after she was medicated."

"You're saying she's already dead?"

"Probably. Although, there is another possibility. Bethany's condition could break down the drugs faster than the other victims. She might regain control of her body. Every hour that she doesn't turn up is a reason for hope."

"We're still running out of time. If the drugs don't kill Bethany, she's not gonna last long without insulin."

You and Spencer take it upon yourself to talk to a collector to try and get into the mindset of someone like the unsub. There is a store in town that is owned by a collector who likes to sell some of his things and give them to other people who are collecting the same things he is. Spencer breaks down the situation you're in without giving too much information away. He's still a civilian who doesn't need to know police business.

"Look, collectors are good, honest people. Just because you enjoy dolls doesn't make you a freak or a pedophile."

"We appreciate that sir, but the woman that we're looking for has lost her ability to control her obsession. She's killed three women trying to recreate a type of doll she had a child."

"Describe the line to me."

"There's a pattern to the victims. They're all in their twenties and petite."

"Most doll lines revolve around infants. Is she dressing them like babies?"

"No, she's not." Spencer looks at you to see you studying the things he has in his store. You're not touching anything but you are fiddling with your fingers as you look. "Their wardrobe consists of chiffon dresses worn by one blond woman, a redhead, and a black woman."

"Is she sewing the dresses herself?"

"How did you know that?"

The store owner goes around the counter and takes out a big book of dolls. He flips through the pages to the ones he thinks are the ones the unsub is trying to recreate.

"It's the Valois line. They were a local company back in the late eighties. They promoted feminism and multiculturalism. Strong, independent girls from different backgrounds who could still be friends."

"Y/N, check this out." You walk over to Spencer and study the contents of the book. "Each doll has a birth certificate to fill out, a form to describe their lives, and a kit to sew your own clothes."

"JJ said she's been at this for a while. She's probably been sewing since she was a little kid."

"Wait a minute. Sir, what's this contest that they held?" Spencer asks when he sees an ad in the book.

"That was to see who could come up with the most imaginative doll. Sew a dress and write an essay to describe her. If you won the contest, you'd have your doll featured in next year's line."

"That didn't end well, did it?"

"No."

"It's a classic tool child psychologists use. Tell me a story with these dolls sort of way."

"When the company got essays with thinly veiled references to physical or sexual abuse, they turned the entry forms and the dolls over to the police. The publicity killed the line."

"You said the company was local, right? They might still have the clothes in evidence."

The detective was able to get the dolls that were in evidence once you asked him to. By the time you got back to the station, Derek was reading some of the essays while JJ and Emily were inspecting the dolls. You used to have a doll like that when you were a child. Your dad gave you one to dress up with doll clothes. You didn't have the skill to sew and it's not like your parents were gonna do that for you.

You grab one of the dolls and think back to your childhood. You got a lot of dolls, in fact.

"How are the essays going?" Spencer asks Derek.

"It makes for some pretty depressing reading. Prentiss is having a good time."

"Hey, these dolls are like little time capsules only eighties fashion wasn't so kind to them. I'm surprised how many little girls knew how to make shoulder pads. How's it going on your end, JJ?"

"I got a list of vendors the victims went to--tailors and seamstresses, that sort of thing."

"JJ, you said something about a handkerchief hem, right?" Emily asks.

Emily shows her the hem on some of the clothes on the dolls.

"That's exactly like what she sews for her victims."

"What's the name on the entry?"

"Samantha Malcolm."

"She's on my list," JJ says.

"Wait a minute, guys. I have her essay around here somewhere." He looks for it. "Right here. 'Sally doesn't like the room with the lightning.' That can't be good."

You take out your phone and call Penelope to get information on Samatha.

"Okay guys, I just got Samantha's medical records. Oh, my god, she was doomed. Like Emily Bronte doomed, like Shakespeare doomed."

"What happened to her?" Hotch asks.

"Right. For the first ten years, nothing. Then, she starts a battery of electroshock treatments."

"At ten? Who subjects a child to ECT?" Spencer wonders.

"That would be her father, Dr. Arthur Malcolm. He runs an inpatient mental health facility for troubled young people called New Lives. At first, the essay that Samantha wrote raised some flags, but her father explained that the therapy was to deal with the recent death of her mother. After that, he started her on a serious regimen of anti-psychotic drugs which he weaned her off of a few years ago."

"It explains her familiarity with medication. Where is she now?"

"Her father declared her incompetent so he's still the legal guardian. Everything is in his name, and all of her records list New Lives as her residence."

"She can't keep victims in an inpatient facility. She needs privacy. Garcia, what about real estate holdings in her father's name?"

"Just his own, but New Lives has a bunch of outpatient and halfway houses all over town."

"JJ, where does she work?"

She checks her list. "I have her placed at three different shops around town."

"Alright, let's split up and cover the shops and the facility."

"I want to go to New Lives," Spencer says. "Whether or not she's there, I want to talk to the father. There are literally hundreds of therapies to help kids through loss. Electroshock is not one of them."

"Take Rossi and Y/N," Hotch says.

Rossi drives both of you to Arthur's facility that's right smack dab in the middle of town. You step out of the car and feel the sense that someone is watching you. You look around and know Samantha is out there. She's close whether on purpose or just passing through.

"What is it?" Spencer asks.

"She's here. I feel her. I can't find her, though."

There are too many people walking around that her energy mixes with everyone else's. Rossi takes you two inside and gets approval to talk to Dr. Malcolm. The second you see the doctor, you freeze in your steps. He becomes blurry through your tears but neither Rossi nor Spencer notice you. Rossi begins explaining the situation briefly but you can't hear the words coming out of his mouth.

"I am very confused, gentlemen. What does this have to do with Samantha?"

"We need to talk to her. Is she here?"

"No, she's at work."

"Does she live here or did you move her into one of your halfway houses?"

"As a matter of fact, she is in one of my houses."

"We'll need the address."

"I need to know what this is about."

"She might be tied to a series of abductions."

"That's not possible. It's not my daughter," Dr. Malcolm shakes his head.

"Is Samantha on her own at this house? There are no other patients, right?"

"She thought that was best and I agreed."

Rossi looks back at Spencer and notices the painful look on your face.

"Y/N, are you okay?"

Spencer turns to look at you and grabs your hand to which you squeeze. The feeling and energy you're getting from Dr. Malcolm is the same one you got from your rapist. It's similar to the same feeling you've been getting with your dad recently, but you're not going to open that door.

"I know a child molester when I see one."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You subjected Samantha to electroshock therapy when she was ten. The effects of that would be permanent, especially at that age but you knew that, didn't you?"

"My wife died when Samantha was ten and she never recovered. I tried everything. Child psychiatry and pet therapy. Nothing helped. She was cutting herself. She was in pain. But I want to go back to the part where you're accusing me of being a child molester."

"Really? Okay. I noticed you have toys in your office. Why are they here?"

"I use them in my therapy."

"I understand that, but why are they on the top shelf away from where any kids can reach them?"

"They're reminders of patients that I've helped."

"Okay." You grab one of the toys from the shelf. "What was the name of the girl you helped with this one?"

"Jenny Larson."

You grab another one. "This one? What was the name of the girl you helped with this one?"

"Abigail Moore."

"How about this one?"

"Linda Krauss."

"I'm assuming these girls are nine or twelve, right?"

"My PhDs are on the effect of trauma on prepubescent girls. I do not appreciate what you're implying," he glares.

"I'm not implying anything. I'm making an inference. An inference is an educated guess, and based on that, I form a hypothesis. For instance, my hypothesis here is that after you raped your daughter, you submitted her to electroshock treatment to make sure she stayed quiet."

"This is outrageous!"

"Then, out of guilt, you bought her toys. More specifically, you bought her a line of dolls. Because that's what serial molesters do. They give gifts. So, you continued the pattern with your other patients and once they left your care, you added their toys to your collection."

You pause to think about your own situation. Your father gave you a bunch of toys to keep you happy. Maybe there is no correlation and you're reading into but you'd rather not think of your own father in that light.

"I'm sorry, you can't back up your story, Agent."

"This is why I love my job, doctor," you laugh. "The jury is your peers and the witnesses will be Jenny, Abagail, and Linda. The DA will put them on the stand and I'm going to personally bring these dolls in. We'll watch how they react." You start to raise your voice and slam your hand on his desk which scares him. "Not to mention your goddamn energy painting a not-so-pretty picture of you fucking these girls!"

Spencer pulls you back to help calm you down and Rossi steps in to take over.

"Or you could tell us where your daughter is, and we'll tell the DA you cooperated. Once we walk out this door, that deal comes off the table."

You turn to leave the room and Dr. Malcolm says something right before Spencer can leave.

"2529 Adams Street. You'll tell them, right? That I cooperated?"

"Where are the other toys? The collection isn't complete," you glare.

Dr. Malcolm has no choice but to give them up. He gives you the dolls he took from his daughter, the ones that made her start kidnapping in the first place. Rossi informs the rest of the team where to go, but Spencer thinks it's best if he goes in first. Samantha is mentally unstable so she needs to be approached delicately and carefully.

Spencer goes in knowing he can talk her down while you go in so you can help the girls she's taken.

"Samantha?" She is in the middle of taking care of her victims and she gasps when she hears Spencer's voice. As he is talking to her, you have your gun out and trained on her. "My name is Spencer and this is Y/N. We're with the FBI. I know what your father did to you, and I want you to know that he can never, ever hurt you again."

"He never touched me," she shakes her head. "He's a good father. He loves me."

You say the same thing about your father.

"I know that he probably forced you to say those things. He'd punish you if you got it wrong and send you to the room with the lightning."

"Yeah," she nods.

"The dolls that your father gave you after he hurt you, what would happen to them?"

"He kept them in his office with the other toys, but when I moved out, I had to take my friends with me. I couldn't leave them behind."

As he keeps her talking, you slowly move to the right to get closer to the girls who are begging you with their eyes.

"Of course. When you went to get them, what did you find? He gave them to another girl, didn't he?" She nods emotionally. "Do you want them back?"

"He said I couldn't. He said they were gone for good."

"He lied. He's been lying to you for a long time. Do you want to see them?"

"Can I?"

"Yeah." Spencer reveals he has the box of dolls and she immediately goes over to him. This is when you put your gun away and tend to the girls. "Do you want to play with them?

"Don't worry, you girls are safe," you say.

You take out each IV tube from each of the girl's arms. If they could cry, they would. Bethany is the one with diabetes so she is able to move a lot more. The drugs Samantha gave her wore of quickly.

"Thank you," she whispers.

"It's clear. We need medical in here," Spencer says into his earpiece. When the team comes into the house, Samantha panics that she isn't going to see her dolls again. "Hey, Samantha? You need to go with these men but your friends can go with you, okay?"

"They won't take them away?"

"I promise no one will ever take them away again."

She is taken away but she is happy because of her dolls.

"Well done, Agent Reid."

"Thanks."

Rossi goes over to you and wraps an arm around your shoulder for comfort.

"Are you okay?"

"No," you whisper painfully.

Another job well done. Another successful case. It doesn't feel that way. It feels like the world is caving in on you and you can't get to safety. You dread going to sleep but you know you have to at least try. Maybe this time you won't have another nightmare. That's the hope, right?

You're back here again. You're back in the same nightmare. The same car is on the side of the road where you're walking. Someone grabs you from behind. Who is it? It doesn't matter. You scream out for help. You kick and fight to get away. It's no use. Whoever grabbed you has a tight hold on you.

Help! Someone help! Anyone! No one is coming to help you. You're all alone. Spencer stands on the other side of the street just watching. Help! Spencer, please! He doesn't do anything but stands there watching you get dragged into the car.

Spencer!

"Y/N, wake up. You're having a nightmare."

You gasp awake and look around the room to make sure you're not actually inside that car. You're covered in sweat and tears.

"Spencer?"

"I'm right here. You're okay."

"No, I'm not," you sob. You turn over in his arms and cry into his chest. "Please make this stop."

Spencer is heartbroken for you. He doesn't know how to help and it's killing him.

"In life, unlike chess, the game continues after checkmate." - Isaac Asimov

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[sunniedesi]

In Defense of Future Diary...

TW: lots of yapping.

Making a small essay for Future Diary is something I’ve been meaning to do for a while. Since my entire blog is dedicated to the series, it only feels right to put something like this out into the ether. However, I’m never sure of the topics that I want to discuss the most. Do I write a defense for the show? My reasons for loving it so much? Its relevance and importance for anime culture? An analysis of Yuno’s character? There’s so much I feel you could say, but I never find the right words to express my feelings coherently. Today, I’ll make the attempt, though. I’ll go over all of the aforementioned questions here, mostly focusing on my personal opinions and feelings regarding the show. I don’t have much experience writing essays or analyses of media, so sorry in advance if my yapping is all over the place.

To begin, I should probably address the elephant in the room: Future Diary, despite its popularity and almost cult-classic status, has turned into a show people love to hate. You see it everywhere, when it comes to reviews, comments, opinion pieces, you name it, if it has Future Diary on the title, people will let you know all the gripes they have with the show. And while I tend to feel defensive or even saddened when I see so much hatred directed at my favorite show… I don’t necessarily blame anyone for feeling that way. I don’t want to be one of those people who pretends to hold the intellectual high-ground, acting as if everyone else is media-illiterate and I’m the one who truly gets the meaning of the series. At the end of the day, it’s just an anime, it’s not that deep. Everyone’s gonna like what they like; we all have different tastes and interests, so it’s only natural we all hold such different opinions about the show, especially given its campy, gory and almost edgy nature. Future Diary is definitely a product of early 2000’s trends, which some people (me lol) appreciate, and others certainly don’t.

That being said, while I respect people disliking the show for personal reasons, there are certain criticisms I see thrown its way that are not necessarily warranted. These issues can be boiled down to the following categories: “plot-holes,” a weak protagonist and toxic pairings. I’ll delve into all of these in a second, but I must say, the amount of times I’ve seen these specific points parroted over and over again makes me believe that many of the people making these arguments are piggybacking off of one another. It’s almost like they’re following a trend, repeating how the protagonist “sucks ass” and that the plot makes zero sense, without showing any examples as to how. 

It’s really common to find shallow arguments like those in comments sections and forums, but since I don’t want to feel like I’m barking up a tree in writing this essay, I decided to look for a source that encapsulated all of the common criticisms, while also backing them up with examples. Now, there are many good video essays out there on Future Diary, my personal favorite is by The Hot Box. But as far as critical pieces go, the one I found that goes the most in-depth is by the creator NezumiVA, titled: Mirai Nikki is Garbage, and Here’s Why. I’ll be referencing the video as I go along, but please note that while I disagree with many of this creator’s arguments, I don’t intend this to be a personal attack. As I said earlier, we’re all entitled to our different tastes and opinions, I can respect them disliking the series while having my own criticisms to give regarding the video. Just a little disclaimer so my intentions aren’t misconstrued here. 

With that out of the way, let’s take a deeper look into the main three arguments I mentioned before:

“The plot-holes eat up the show”

If you’ve been in the fandom for a while, you know that this is probably one of the most common criticisms levied towards Future Diary, and perhaps the one that holds the most weight. Or at least it would be, if it weren’t for the fact that “plot-holes” aren’t exactly the issue people are pointing at here. To explain, I believe people who dish out this claim all have different understandings of the definition of “plot-hole,” so to clarify: a plot-hole is an inconsistency, a contradiction in the narrative. For example, Yuno’s diary is all about Yukki, if she were to have diary entries not about him, that could be considered a plot-hole, as it contradicts the original narrative. A smaller detail being unexplained or overlooked for the sake of pacing is not a plot-hole. A flaw, yes, but as long as it doesn’t contradict what’s already been established in the story, it’s not a plot-hole. 

On one hand, it is true that there are certain Deus Ex Machina moments that aren’t properly explained in the show (heck, the god of this universe is called that for a reason), such as: how does 5th acquire all of his booby traps? Or where did 9th pull that motorcycle from? Why are characters so quick to forgive/forget certain events? These are smaller details that aren’t properly justified on-screen for the sake of pacing and making the show more interesting. You could possibly count this more as a case of poor characterization, particularly with 5th’s character having a lot of knowledge despite his age or Hinata quickly accepting the coin toss challenge despite having an advantage. Given the show only has 26 episodes, it’s only natural that detailed explanations for smaller details are omitted to make the show flow quicker and be more entertaining. While this may bother some people, I don’t find it to be such a big deal, or at least not a reason to dogpile on the show, when many other animes with shorter runtime fall victim to poor characterization as well. 

Many deem the plot nonsensical for missing these smaller explanations, but again, I find that exaggerated as they’re much, much trivial details that the majority of people don’t think of or focus on when watching the show. The video I referenced touches on the plot being illogical several times, not necessarily mentioning plot-holes per se, but complaining that many of the justifications behind certain plot points are unrealistic or contrived, though let’s be real here… since when is anime realistic? Future Diary, I would argue, does a good job of balancing very unrealistic scenarios with some realistic characters (like Yukki, but we’ll get into that later), which is what makes it interesting to watch. After all, what’s the fun in watching a fantasy show if it’s completely grounded in reality? Not to mention that many of the points brought up in the video aren’t contrived, especially if you were paying attention to the show. For example, the scene of Yuno meditating to figure out Reisuke’s plan. This wasn’t a Deus Ex Machina moment, it was foreshadowing of the fact she has her first-world memories locked away, and the meditation was her trying to access those memories. Same thing with Bacchus having an overpowered diary, it isn’t for the sake of it, he literally designed it to be that way, because he was the one who presented the idea of the diaries to Deus in the first place.

I’m getting a little side-tracked here, but you get the point. Ultimately, the worst sin a show can commit is being boring, and while Future Diary has its flaws in pacing and characterization, it contributes in keeping the viewers hooked to the action, packing its small run of 26 episodes with quite a bit of entertainment. Moreover, a lot of people overreact to these so-called “plot-holes”, yet they also fail to pay attention as to why things happen as they do in the show. Many of these criticisms can be summed up as either: trivial details that are omitted since they have little relevance to the plot and/or people not paying attention to what’s going on. 

Moving on, let’s tackle another very, very popular argument:

“Yukiteru is a total pushover (to put it nicely).” 

This is, without a doubt, the most common criticism I’ve seen people have of the show. I’m not sure if this is because people are used to the upbeat, overpowered protagonist trope in anime, but people don’t realize that Yukki being frustrating, awkward and terrified is an important part of the show’s storytelling, not to mention relatively unique. Very rarely do we see a realistic portrayal of a teenage protagonist in anime, and it is important for the show since it serves as a contrast to the other characters, all dark, callous and obsessed with the goal of becoming a God. Yukki is the only character not interested in any of this at the beginning. All he wanted was to escape reality with his phone and imaginary friends, and he's now thrusted into this terrible and hopeless situation. How exactly is a young boy expected to react under these circumstances? 

Teenagers are naive, dumb, selfish, all characteristics portrayed in Yukiteru, and these characteristics are put under scrutiny by every one of the diary owners, constantly telling him to grow a pair and stop using Yuno. This is easier said than done when you’re used to avoiding every little bit of responsibility in your life, and a girl who’s self-reportedly “crazy good at killing people” suddenly thrusts into your life ready to do all the work for you. Yukki is indeed a very flawed character, but that isn’t an accident, it is an intentional addition. It’s what makes him interesting; it pushes conflict into the show, and most importantly, drives home one of the main lessons of the show with Yukki’s development: fear doesn’t mean you’re not brave, it’s having that fear and pushing forward that makes you brave. A little corny, I know, but a valuable lesson for the Survival Game. 

Every character has an incentive for becoming God, and they’re utterly consumed by it to the point of insanity. Even a character like 4th, who was originally concerned with the goal of bringing order and justice rather than more carnage to the game gets carried away when a proper incentive for God’s seat comes into play: saving his son. In a Survival Game where we're surrounded by the most cunning and twisted of characters, killers, terrorists, people in corrupt positions of power, Yukki stands out like a sore thumb for retaining his humanity throughout it all, unwilling to get his hands dirty, rather willing to see hope in everyone else. It comes across as naive and all-too trusting. This is especially true for his father, but considering how little people he has to rely on, plus his childish hopes of seeing his family back together, his forgiveness towards him makes sense. And the same can be said for Yuno, the one constant he’s got all throughout the game. Despite the abuse and manipulation, she’s ultimately got his best interests at heart, but I’m getting ahead of myself with this point.

Eventually, the circumstances that Yukki goes through (namely his parents’ death) put that humanity, kindness and mercy, the staples of his personality, to test. It’s a testament to how desperate situations can corrupt even the most innocent of individuals. Yukiteru goes from a hopeful individual to a callous killer, no different from Yuno and equally as selfish. Similarly enough, we know thanks to her third-world-self that Yuno was originally a normal, happy girl with the hopes of finally having a loving family taking care of her. All of this, to then be tortured by the people who were supposed to bring that peaceful family life to her. 

Yukki being a weakling may be frustrating to some, it is certainly brought up many times during the video essay, but it’s an important factor that drives the plot and many of Future Diary’s lessons about growth and accountability. Besides, the anime certainly wouldn’t be as interesting to watch if every character was just an OP know-it-all like Akise. Which no hate to him, but the show wouldn’t be the same if every character were like him.

And speaking of Akise, I’ll take the opportunity to mention a point in the video essay that bothered me a bit. The creator says the show is “queerbaiting” with his character, because Akise’s attraction towards Yukki is forced, but I don’t see exactly how this is queerbaiting. Correct me if I’m wrong, but isn’t queerbaiting when a character is insinuated to be gay, yet it’s kept ambiguous enough to never address it? The show straight-up explains the reason behind Akise’s attraction to Yukki. His love is forced because it was created by Deus to further his investigation about Yukki and Yuno. Akise himself is a fabrication of Deus. It is literally explained in episode 23. You can’t bait the audience into believing a character is gay if you explicitly tell the audience the character is gay lol.

But that’s one of the smaller issues I had with the video’s criticisms. My biggest gripes were actually the following: at the beginning of the essay, this creator talks about how many of the plot points in the show are contrived and illogical, but at the same time, they dislike the characters having tragic backstories that explain how they went on to become twisted individuals. Isn’t it a little contradictory that you complain about a character acting unnatural, yet when the explanation for their behavior comes up, you completely disregard it? They go as far as to say Esuno hates women and is misogynistic for his portrayal of female psychosis, and the use of SA as a tragic backstory being distasteful. Because, according to this creator, people who have been victimized never go on to become terrible people themselves, and that this is a “problematic stereotype.” 

To say that this worldview is incredibly simplistic and naive is putting it mildly. Being a victim doesn’t exempt you from the capability of hurting others, and in fact, the opposite is often true. Hurt people hurt people, that is another main theme in Future Diary, and one of the things I love about it so much. It doesn’t make its characters victims of terrible situations for the sake of pitying them, but to portray their natural descent into madness from being corrupted by a cruel and unrelenting world. Yuno, Yukki, Minene, Tsubaki, these characters all started out as normal until life turned them into the nihilistic monsters they became. They’re morally gray, an example of what you can become when your ethics and moral worldview is tested by society so many times, it ultimately turns you into a societal outcast. Which only makes it funnier that one of the questions asked in the video is “are we supposed to like these characters?” Yes and no, that’s the fun of writing morally gray characters.

I often see these takes with people who fail to understand that the portrayal of something in media ≠ endorsement. It’s the crux of people who lack media literacy, the failure to understand morally gray or just straight up evil characters as protagonists. The media itself isn’t telling you to repeat their actions, it is an exploration of how these actions manifest in the first place, a cautionary tale, if you will. I know that having evil or twisted protagonists isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but to accuse the story or the author of malicious intent would be completely missing the point of the story’s purpose. Not to mention, that it is important for stories like this to exist, to put us in the shoes of those who enact harm, to understand why they do it and keep us from becoming like them.

The show doesn’t justify any of their actions, in fact, it often shows them for what they are: twisted and morally corrupt; it is on the characters themselves to bear the burdens of these actions. A clear example of this is the confrontation that Yukki has with his friends nearing the end of episode 22. It is probably one of my favorite scenes in the entire show: Yukki being forced to face all of his demons at once, realizing just how much damage he has caused, damage that he later has to mend in his final confrontation with Yuno to finally put an end to everyone’s suffering. It is dense, crude, and it is certainly necessary for both him and Yuno. 

Funnily enough, this youtuber goes on to say the following about Yuno’s background: “I really don’t care what her (back)story pans out to look like… her actions are still not excusable.” Which is true, just because someone was abused doesn’t justify them perpetuating the same abuse later. However, they then crush their own point by claiming that Yuno’s obsessions started all because of “a passing conversation.” I guess they weren’t lying when they said that they didn’t care about Yuno’s backstory… because chalking up her obsession as solely a result of that scene is completely disregarding her background. That conversation in the classroom did start Yuno’s fixation towards Yukki, but it is not the root of her obsessive tendencies. Yuno herself believes it to be, but this is an idea that is squandered by Yukki in his final confrontations with her. Moreover, if you paid attention to her backstory, you would understand it is all due to her childhood neglect. And similarly, Yukki’s attraction towards Yuno stems from this as well.

This brings me to the final criticism:

“Yuno and Yukki’s relationship is problematic, toxic and makes no sense.”

There is no denying that Yuno and Yukki start out as an incredibly toxic and troublesome pairing, using each other for their own selfish wants instead of working with each other. This is the Achilles heel in their dynamic, and it is often the cause of their troubles. Yuno acts impulsive, unstable and manipulative towards Yukki due to her insecurities and debilitating obsession, while Yukki pushes all responsibility to Yuno due to his own lack of a spine. They hurt each time and time again, yet they can’t help but be with each other. And this is because, in a twisted way, they compliment each other. 

On one hand, we have a social outcast, ignored by everyone including his family, visibly alone and afraid of being hurt by others, but still seeing the best in people. Then on the other hand, we have a popular girl from a prominent family, visibly perfect, but in reality just as alone due to abuse she experiences at home, making her view people as fundamentally cruel. On the outside they’re opposites, but deep down, they’re both lonely, and terrified of said loneliness. It is only when they meet, when Yukki shows her the kindness she was missing for years and when Yuno gives him the support he had always craved, that they fulfill each other’s needs. By becoming acquainted with Yuno and the Survival Game, Yukki becomes increasingly darker, eventually maturing at the end of the show, while Yukki awakens Yuno’s empathy and pulls her back from the darkness, as we see when she falters to hurt third-world Yuno and her parents. 

Their complementary personalities are even referenced by their diaries, which only work seamlessly if paired. They balance each other out perfectly, bringing out the best of each other, but only after learning to push back on their worst characteristics, which is also true for real-life relationships. In truth, just like these two, people are flawed, traumatized and generally toxic to one another. There’s no such thing as people or relationships that start out perfect from the get-go, they need to learn to grow together. 

In that sense, this is what makes the ending of the show so powerful to me. Yukki isn’t set on killing Yuno or becoming God anymore. He’s finally taking responsibility, coming to terms with the awful deeds he’s done, and the fact that he can’t undo them. Instead, he wants to help Yuno come to terms with her own demons, finally giving back to her what she needs and not something for his own benefit. Similarly, Yuno realizes just how off the deep-end she’s gone when she meets her past self, acknowledging that she’s lost her original goal, and that repeating the cycle of hurt won’t fix her already broken spirit. That world isn’t for her, and so she finally ends the hurt, giving her and Yukki the peace they need. 

Many people don’t like Redial because they see it as an undeserved Happy Ending for two awful individuals, but the way I like to see it is as a form of redemption. Both characters, in the end, do what they have to do to restore order in the world. Yukki pays for his sins in the void, finally a God but at the cost of mourning what could’ve been. First-World Yuno ends the suffering she’s putting herself through so her new self can thrive, almost akin to breaking free from her past traumas to finally heal. The new self regains those memories, not to sulk, but to build from them, going back with Yukki to start a new world that isn’t characterized by their original hurt. In a way, it's a story about how the most downtrodden of individuals can find solace in love, break from their past and learn to heal together. For me, it’s cathartic and fulfilling to watch.

To finish this lengthy post, I feel it’s appropriate to mention the importance of Future Diary’s characters, and more specifically, Yuno. The video describes her writing as shallow and contrived, but I’ve already addressed that in the previous paragraphs. Many people love chalking her up to “cRaZy YaNdErE gUrL™ 🤪​,” but she’s so, so much more than that. Her character actually has a lot of depth if you pay attention to her story: she’s a girl, an orphan who went on to be neglected by her foster father and abused by her foster mother, resulting in complex trauma, insecurities and fear of abandonment that she tries to hide and overcompensate for in her overly aggressive tendencies. Her obsession in avoiding the loss of the only person she has becomes her demise, as she lives in a loop of torment all for the sake of not being alone again, a cycle of hurt only she has the power of breaking if she finds the strength to do it. Whether it was intentional or not, Yuno portrays a lot of the issues people with mental illness, such as BPD, struggle with. 

Now, claiming that Yuno is a perfect, one-to-one representation of BPD would be reducing this disorder to a caricature, there’s obviously so much more to BPD than what you see in this portrayal. But, I feel like out of the huge list of characters that fall under the “yandere” or crazy girl trope, she’s probably one of the best written ones in anime. I know she’s often dubbed the “yandere queen,” but seriously, it’s rare to see media committing to this trope and properly characterizing it. I would go as far as to say she’s the best character I’ve seen written in this genre, only sharing that spot with another character from a certain game (but given that the mere mention of its name is enough to ensue controversy, I’ll abstain from talking about it here 🙄​). A big portion of characters within this trope are quite two-dimensional, without clear motives for their obsessions, or having their issues played up for laughs (I’m looking at you, Anna Nishikinomiya). Heck, many of the characters associated with the trope aren’t actual yanderes, like is the case for Shion Sonozaki or Lucy from Elfen Lied. 

Yuno’s character is rich and interesting to watch, she isn’t just some “crazy girl” for the sake of it. She’s a product of tragedy, only motivated by the hope of finally having Yukki alleviate all of her insecurities and sorrows. I’ve always found the “yandere” trope interesting since it delves into the lengths people are capable of going over an obsession, and how these form to begin with. Given how complex, sensitive and even personal this topic can be, it’s important to have characters like this be properly written, and I’m glad that Yuno set a standard for this back in her day, even if many people don’t take her character seriously. 

I think it’s important to close up this post repeating the sentiment I had at the beginning. My purpose in writing this defense isn’t so much to force people into liking the show, and even opinions I disagree with like the ones in NezumiVA’s video are valid in their own right, as everyone has different perspectives in interpreting media. This is simply my take as someone who’s been a fan of the show for a really long time, since I don’t see many in-depth essays for Future Diary out there. It is a show that has stuck with me for its lessons on learning to be brave, healing from the past and selfless love. As silly as it may sound talking about an anime, it’s something that I can always look back to and smile, laugh or cry along with. Despite people’s conflicting views and endless criticisms, it will never fail to have a special place in my heart. Given how much time I’ve dedicated to this series, it’s only fair I dedicated a little bit of that time explaining my love for it too. And if you made it this far down the post, I would also like to thank you for dedicating a little bit of your time to my shower thoughts as well!

[toujoursrab]

Prompt: Suspect | Pairing: Jegulus | Word Count: 1079

Before he had time to reach for his wand, Regulus was grabbed by the wrist and pulled into an open door. He let out a loud, displeased sound of protest that went ignored. The rest of the students in the hallway, if they noticed the disruption, didn’t say anything of it. The door shut behind him with a loud ungraceful slam. Regulus stumbled back in the tightly enclosed space, narrowly hitting his head onto the wall. His heart stuttered in the confines of his chest, but not out of fear, more so because of the person who had just pulled him in. The offender lit his wand, causing the room to illuminate and Regulus to get a decent view of the only person allowed—and stupid enough—to handle him so recklessly.

 “A broom closet, really?” Regulus scowled, his arms crossing over his chest as James flashed one of his signature grins. “Since when have we become a cliché?”

“Baby, we’ve always been a cliché.” James insisted, his grin only growing wider. Finding creative ways to be with Regulus outside of their early morning Quidditch meet ups, late night Astronomy Tower dates when classes weren’t in session, and weekly Sunday evening supper in the Hogwarts kitchens, was the highlight of his day. He was satisfied with his relationship with Regulus, but it would be a lie to say he didn’t want more. Sneaking around could only sustain someone like James for so long. He was bursting at the seams, ready to announce his relationship to the entire castle so he can rant and rave about the boy he loves. But he couldn’t, and so he was doing his best to be patient. Probably why Regulus humored him and his antics for so long.

The sixth year’s lips pursed to the side, his nose scrunched just the tiniest bit in a way that made James swoon from how cute he looked. “I don’t remember signing up for that.”

“Not my problem you skipped over the full terms and conditions.”  The Gryffindor’s shoulders rolled into a shrug, grin dropping just a little bit as he casted a quick nox and lowered his wand. They were engulfed in darkness again. Before Regulus could speak, he felt himself being turned around. “Don’t distract me, Reggie. There’s a reason I’m here. You’re under arrest.” The tip of James wand was being pressed into the small of his back, but Regulus was moreso stuck on the words that fell from James lips. He always managed to catch him off guard. Regulus loved it. He assumed this was another one of James roleplaying games, that Regulus voluntarily played along with.

“More like under duress.” Regulus murmured under his breath before humoring James. “Are you going to tell me the charges or read my rights? You do know I have the right to a fair trial in front of the Wizengamont, and I should be able to owl my family lawyer before answering any of your questions. If you arrest me you’re going to have a lot of paperwork. You already hate writing essays. I saw you trying to bribe Lupin to write your Charms essay the other day.”

James let out a sound between a whine and a scoff. “Don’t get technical on me, baby. You’re overthinking it.”

“Sorry, sorry… carry on.” Regulus raised his hands in surrender, glad that James couldn’t see the smirk on his face. Maybe he enjoyed these roleplay games just as much as the Chaser did, mostly because Regulus liked to test his limits.  

“Your crimes are as followed: On the morning of February second, you sleepily walked into the Great Hall, sat down with your friends, prepared a cup of tea and proceeded to seek me out. We made eye contact for a solid two—no no—three minutes before you winked, causing me to lose my mind and flail, knocking Moony’s hot chocolate all over table… but mostly all over Wormtail. And you had the audacity to laugh about it—all while looking cute—”

Regulus almost laughed right then and there at the reminder of what transpired that morning at breakfast. He was able to keep his composure, however. Thankfully James couldn’t see the way his grey eyes twinkled in amusement. “I think you have the wrong guy. I did no such thing.”

“Are you not Regulus Arcturus Black? You’re the prime suspect.”  The only suspect really, but details.

“Where’s your proof? You can’t make an arrest without proof—”

“Regulus…” James lowered his wand, removing the point from Regulus back and tucking it into the pocket of his robes.

“Auror Potter.”  

“I was there this morning. You know I’m weak for your sleepy look and you used it against me. The wink was just cruel. Appreciated—but cruel.”

“If I am guilty of anything, it would be my greatest crime: stealing your heart.” Even as the words left Regulus’ mouth he felt himself cringe at the cheesiness of it all. Was this a side effect of being in love? Spewing cheesy—but truthful—statements at your partner.

James’ released a soft laugh, butterflies fluttered around in Regulus stomach at the sound. He placed his hands on Regulus’ waist and turned him around so that they were facing each other. There wasn’t much they could make out in the dark, but James had Regulus profile memorized. He pressed his forehead against Regulus’ as he leaned down, faintly brushing their lips together. “Who’s being cliché now?”

“Don’t break script, Auror Potter. You haven’t handed out my punishment.”  

“Tonight. Astronomy Tower. You’ll get your punishment.” James pressed a firm kiss to Regulus lips this time before releasing him and pulling back. As much as he didn’t want to separate from Regulus, he couldn’t afford to be late enough to get a detention, not when they had plans for the night. “Pretty sure we’re late for class.”

This time it was Regulus who pulled out his wand to light the closet. Using his other hand to smooth out the front of James uniform and then straighten his tie. When Regulus was satisfied, he looked up to meet the Gryffindor’s hazel eyes. Regulus smiled fondly. “James… soon, okay? We’ll tell everyone.”

“No more hiding?” James didn’t do much to hide the excited hopefulness from his tone.

“No more hiding.” And Regulus meant that, leaning up meet James lips in a chaste kiss. They could afford to be a few more minutes late.

[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

---

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.

[sofoulandfairaday]

Also got any sev ones?

If I have any Severus Snape headcanons? I think I might have to put this one under the cut bby, it's going to be loooong. Edit: it got severely out of hand, be warned this is insanely long.

BUT FIRST: this is a very long but extremely well-written meta about the Snapes' peculiar type of poverty that you should all read when you have time. Like, save it for later somewhere or whatever, but seriously. Do yourself a favour.

Some people like to headcanon Remus Lupin (!) as the Hogwarts drug dealer. Nu-uh. That's Snape. Severus, for the right price, can and will provide you with any kind of potion (assuming he can steal the ingredients from the supply closet/his fancy pureblood housemates can get him whatever he needs). See this post.

But it's not just potions. He'll write your essays for money (his prices go up as the years go by, but so does his credibility). Snape is the only reason Avery ever passed 4th year Transfiguration.

Until his 6th/7th year, when he was no longer friends with Lily and started expressing a vocal desire to join the Death Eaters, he wasn't accepted or popular in Slytherin House.

Avery and Mulciber, the only people who could be considered his friends, were still pretty classist and racist towards him and even then he only got to be part of their little circle because he knew more curses when he arrived at Hogwarts than half the kids in seventh year.

You see, he wasn't just a Halfblood (they have those in Slytherin), he was also dirt poor, and pretty rough around the edges. He wasn't refined, he swore like a sailor, he was classless, and “dirty” and had worn-out clothes and second-hand books, he was canonically ugly and twitchy as a child, and Sirius (who is still from the very elegant, very posh Black Family) describes him as a little oddball.

Never mind the suave adult Snape (who is very different in the books and in the movies, anyway). My man Eliza Doolittle-ed himself. He did a Tom Riddle.

But he was powerful enough that the hazing and bullying inside his own House stopped almost immediately when he got there. You despised Snape? Fine. You attacked Snape? Suddenly your pet cat has been poisoned and your kneecaps were jinxed backwards.

Also, Lucius Malfoy promptly singled him out, and while he was still in school (Sev's first and second year) he did what he could to shield him, and to make him just a little more credible and refined in Slytherin. Severus followed him around like a little puppy and definitely acted a bit like an errand boy for him and his friends, which is also part of the reason why Sirius calls him Lucius Malfoy's lapdog in OotP. I wouldn't say they were really friends though. He knew them, and maybe they liked him, but he wasn't their equal.

Unfortunately, the Marauders' bullying only got worse as the years went by, and Lucius had graduated by the time SWM happened (I think that and the Prank were the worst, but I also like the headcanon that they were not. That Snape put that particular memory in the Pensieve because it was the time he lost Lily, not because it was the worst time he was bullied by them. From the way he reacted to their attack, this level of viciousness was probably common. By the way, even if you dislike him as a character, if you deny that what he suffered at the hands of the Marauders was vile, I don't know what to tell you.)

I wouldn't say a good rapport with Narcissa Black - because why would a girl from the upper years hang out with a boy from the first three? - but she would be kind to him, and chat politely sometimes. She was impressed with him - the first Halfblood she had ever given the time of day to.

Do you know who wasn't (lol)? Bellatrix. Who had graduated years before and just could not understand why Narcissa and Lucius would be so fond of this little scrawny upjumped Halfblood.

With the exception of Andromeda (who doesn't know who he is) and Narcissa (who really likes him), all of the Blacks hate Snape. Regulus doesn't hate him per se but thinks him unrefined and overreaching and they also have a bit of a not-so-friendly competition going on even though they come from different years. Sirius and Bella... well, you know. (credit: @hxuse-xf-black, I think this hc is theirs)

One of my favourite headcanons is that the last Black family event Sirius ever attended was Narcissa's wedding (1976) [the last one Andy ever attended was Bellatrix's (1972)]. He was there as the bride's cousin, obviously. But but but. Snivellus Snape was also there, as the groom's best man (alongside Evan Rosier and Rodolphus Lestrange). The two almost get into a Muggle brawl, and an enraged Bellatrix is the one who has to separate them (how dare you try to ruin Cissy's big day?!). She would have happily let them kill each other on any other occasion, but that was her little (only) sister's wedding and she very violently cursed them both.

Started smoking cigarettes when he was young and never really stopped.

What tea does Snape drink?

Bad personal hygiene since he was a boy, especially in his periods of worst depression. Paradoxically, he was at his most groomed during his Death Eater years (1978-1981) because he had to deal daily with the likes of Lucius Malfoy and Rodolphus Lestrange, who might have been domestic terrorists but had standards.

Speaking of which. Bella hates him. I still have to decide how Rodolphus feels about him (Rod definitely defends him when the two of them are having a row, just to piss her off, but I don't know how he actually feels). I think they had slightly different social circles. As Sirius says, they were all - at different points in time - part of a gang of baby Death Eaters in school. But I see Bella & Rod as very close with Rabastan, and Rabastan as very close to Barty (the four of them even tortured the Longbottoms together, which means they definitely talked to each other in the very hectic days after Voldemort's downfall). In my headcanons Barty and Regulus are glued at the hip, so basically that's the five of them already.

It was a period of brilliant students for Hogwarts, nothing like Harry's time. James and Sirius were prodigies, Regulus gives me mad scientist vibes (also, he must have been knowledgeable in the Dark Arts seeing as he figured out about Voldemort's Horcruxes in no time), Barty brought home twelve O.W.L.S. (how?), and Snape was inventing curses.

The latter three were tentative allies in school, but Barty&Reg (who definitely had something going on if you know what I mean), pureblood and proper, with all of the entitlement that must have come from their bloodlines and talent, definitely were not his fans.

No one could understand his fixation with “that Mudblood” (Lily); Lucius was particularly overjoyed when he heard of their falling out. (This came back to bite him in the ass when he was the one who had to physically drag him out of his house, at Spinner's End, after she died and he was determined to rot and kill himself with alcohol.)

Cat person. But never owned any pets because he could not keep one alive. Except of course when he owned a rat... err... I mean, when Peter lived with him.

I am convinced the man took stimulants. Whatever the equivalent of wizard cocaine was (probably a potion he made himself, with minimal comedown and as little side effects on the body as he can), he took. He seems to spend his nights patrolling the corridors and his days teaching, so when does he sleep?

Extremely light sleeper anyway.

Can go without eating for a long time.

He is the personification of self-loathing.

I can see him self-harming in different ways. He denies himself the small pleasures of life, he smokes until his throat burns and his lungs hurt, and insists that he works best without protective gloves (more sensitivity or whatever) which means that his hands are covered in small cuts and stains from corrosive (possibly painful) potions.

Does whatever he can to look as little like his father as possible, whether that be growing a beard, or gaining weight, or cutting his hair.

He maintains that learning Occlumency saved his life. Legilimency is about control, and even that not-so-hidden sadistic part of him, and also the self-protection that comes from knowing your opponent's moves before they can strike. But Occlumency and the sort of meditative bliss that comes from Occluding heavily was an integral part of his transformation, and very definitely helped with the very obvious anxiety that plagued him as a boy. It's yoga + good weed at the same time. That's the feeling.

The Lily thing. Part of it was romantic but in the light I-am-thirteen-and-have-a-crush-on-my-best-friend type of way. He definitely thought he was in love with her when he was sixteen/seventeen, after they had cut ties, and that's how he explained it to Voldemort, too (and that's how Voldemort explains it to Harry - he desired her). But. Truthfully? No. After a while, and especially after her death, it wasn't about the love he felt for her, it was about the debt he owed her. She was the first person to be kind to him, and he betrayed her. Directly caused her death, and sold her to the most evil wizard in history. Whether you love someone romantically or platonically, being responsible for their death, or leaving a child as an orphan takes a toll on your psyche that's almost impossible for me to comprehend or explain. Imagine the level of guilt that he felt. She was his first friend, his first crush, his first everything. And his love for her was the love Dante felt for Beatrice, the love that moves the sun and the other stars. I hate it when they reduce it to “he just wanted to bang Harry's mom haha”.

With that being said, Snily is probably the most boring Severus ship of all.

Never planned for the future. He honestly didn't think he would survive the war; his character is pretty much doomed by the narrative, and I am convinced that the only thing that kept him going was fulfilling his promise to Dumbledore, taking down the Dark Lord. He always thought Voldemort would eventually discover he was a spy and kill him for it. And as sad as it is (and that's why I love those kinds of fanfics!) I cannot see him ever adapting to a post-Voldemort world. It would take a lot of work on himself for him to find peace and I don't think he loved himself enough for that. I don't think he wanted to live.

Also, while I love the fanfics where he eventually makes up with Harry, and they have a civil relationship, I cannot see it happening in canon.

The narrative draws very explicit parallels between Snape and Voldemort, there are so many (but not limited to): the social class they come from, their blood status, the abuse they face as children, this iconic line which is one of my favourites in the whole series: But he was home. Hogwarts was the first and best home he had known. He and Voldemort and Snape, the abandoned boys, had all found home here, the details we can infer of their relationship with Dumbledore when they were still students, the transformation they operated on themselves to become more polished, their interests (both of them invent curses and the like), the way they identify with their mothers' heritages, their dynamic is extremely interesting to me.

My headcanon is that Snape was one of the few people Voldemort actually liked (and perhaps he saw himself in), which would explain why he doesn't heed Bella's advice about him. Of course, it was a very tepid intellectual appreciation (just a tad warmer than his - very cold - expression of regret at having to kill him in the Shrieking Shack), but it was there. I think they had a teacher-student dynamic which doesn't get explored enough but was clearly there: Voldemort teaches Snape how to fly without a broom; he is reportedly the only Death Eater to whom he teaches this. I think Snape was absolutely fascinated with LV in the beginning and climbed through the ranks impressively quickly. Just as rapidly (maybe more) as purebloods Regulus Black (whose cousin was LV's right-hand woman and possible mistress) and Barty Crouch (who would have been an asset seeing his father's position). Keep in mind these guys weren't even 20 years old and had all met Voldemort personally, probably more than once. They would have been part of his inner circle.

I can see Voldemort appreciating Snape's interest in magic, especially his academic interest. I think it's especially fascinating if compared to Voldemort's relationship with Bellatrix (who was the opposite of Snape in every sense): I think someone like Voldemort would be attracted to someone like Bellatrix (rich, pure of blood, self-assured, inhabiting a world built for her, etc.) but on the other hand he would also resent her for these very things that were her prerogative, and not his. On the other hand, Snape would understand him on a personal level, he would simply get some of Voldemort's lived experiences (and personality, let's be real) in a way his other Death Eaters wouldn't. But, because he still represents his past in a way (and hasn't remade himself quite yet), Voldemort would also view him with contempt. (And a great deal of superiority, but he's like that with everyone).

Snape doesn't join the Death Eaters because of the Cause. I can see him hating Muggles and perhaps looking down on Muggle-borns, but I don't think of him as a convinced pureblood elitist in the way the Lestranges and Malfoys were. He joined for power. He wanted revenge, and he wanted to feel powerful and important in a world that would make him feel small (part of the reasoning behind Bellatrix's joining in my headcanons), which makes him much hungrier than his peers, which would make him stand out to Voldemort.

His invention of the Sectumsempra spell and its counter-curse is extremely impressive, even Bella had to recognize this when she found out, and she demanded it be taught to the younger recruits, (but really to herself).

Hates summer like no one else has ever hated summer.

Helped with Draco's conception. I headcanon that Narcissa had fertility problems (this extends, for me, to most women of the Black family) and Severus helped her and Lucius with it. (This hc isn't mine, but I love it to death.)

Any and all silly headcanons about Snape teaching sex ed, dealing with periods, etc give me life. You've all read them though, so I won't repeat them.

Worked as a potioneer for Voldemort too, perhaps alongside someone who was even better than him (older, more knowledgeable). The things he learned turned out to be super useful to him in the future.

His favourite food is fish and chips, or something equally proletarian, like beans on toast... that sort of thing.

Detested living with Pettigrew (and I hc that Voldemort did it as a form of cruel punishment: he's forced to live with - offer shelter to - the man who caused Lily's death).

Because I like angst, I really like the idea that the person he was closest with, in the entirety of the Hogwarts staff (except maybe for Dumbledore) wasn't McGonagall, it was Charity Burbage. I need more fics with an in-depth exploration of their relationship (whether it be romantic or platonic) because it has amazing potential, both for angst and fluff.

Idk how anyone can ship Snily when these two are right there

Also, she would be the second woman Severus loves that Voldemort has killed. This time it's even worse.

I doubt he could ever have had a functioning relationship with her (or any other woman, or person), because what flesh-and-blood woman could ever beat the lamented and idolised spirit of Lily Evans? She would stand no chance. Again, this makes it worse.

I'm going to stop here because this is getting embarrassing. Kudos to you if you got to the end of this.

Headcanons: James | Sirius | Remus | Lily

[starlingflight]

Hiiii!

I just wanted to butt in and say how much I love your hinny fanfics especially the once’s set in hbp. (I’m not going to say how many times I have reread them, it’s too embarrassing 🙈) The way you write them, the banter and chemistry!! Honestly sometimes it feels like I’m eavesdropping on someone else conversation because you make them seem so real. I love the pinning. :)

It’s fun to read about how tortured harry is and how he feels ‘normal’ and not under so much pressure when Ginny is around! I have a suggestion if you don’t mind (ignore this otherwise and accept my apology <3). I would love to read something you about Harry pinning over Ginny while she is with Dean and see his thoughts. The monster in his chest! I love reading about the early stages of their relationship it’s so cute! Or something like that

I hope you have a wonderful day and I hope you know that your writing is spectacular!!

Hi anon!

First of all, thank you so, so, so much for this! It literally made my day! The idea that anyone re-reads my fics makes me so happy, I can't even explain 🥺🥺🥺

And now I fear I must disappoint you 😭 I've tried writing this prompt three different ways, and I can't make it work… I very rarely explore Ginny's relationship with Dean until they're broken up and there's a reason for that (I hope you're ready for some less than complimentary takes about my two faves): Both Harry and Ginny use Dean as a coping mechanism.

Ginny stays with Dean way longer than she should, to an extent it's almost out of character for her. Why? In my opinion, because if she breaks up with Dean, she has to deal with something that's increasingly staring her in the face, the fact that Harry likes her, and despite all the work she's done on herself, she still wants to drop everything to be with him. It's an uncomfortable realisation for someone as independent as Ginny.

The sheer force of her feelings for Harry is a lot for her to accept, and it's easier for her to just stay with Dean who, while nice, inspires no such depth of emotion. It's not fair to Dean, but it's a self-preservation tactic that Ginny appears to be subconsciously committed to throughout HBP.

Now, onto the reason I'm struggling to write your lovely (and appreciated) request. Harry James Potter, number 1 avoider of emotions, actually finds the Dean relationship very convenient tbh. Do you know who doesn't have to deal with their ever-increasing feelings for their best friend's little sister? The guy whose best friend's little sister has a boyfriend.

There's a large section of HBP after Harry sees the Dinny kiss (and the chest monster is born), where Ginny lingers at the back of Harry's mind (and in his dreams) but he never really consciously dwells on his feelings for Ginny. Harry isn't ready to face it, and he doesn't have to because Ginny has a boyfriend.

It's only when Ginny and Dean break up that Harry starts to panic, not that Ginny won't reciprocate his feelings, only that Ron will be mad. It's one of the reasons I love hinny as a couple… on some level they both know. Even when neither of them want to haha.

Harry never views Dean as an obstacle in canon, because really he's not (sorry Dean, I still love you). I think he probably had very fleeting moments of envy (I wrote about Harry not liking Ginny wearing Dean's West Ham jumper 😅), but I don't think Harry believes for a moment that Dean is competition (I did write him having a little crisis of confidence about Dean post sectumsempra incident in FAIY, but that's really just Harry looking for ways to make himself feel bad because of his guilt). Dean is just a convenient reason for Harry not to deal with a messy emotional situation.

Really, is it any wonder Dean smashes that glass?

Anyway, apologies for the essay, I do really appreciate being sent prompts and I wish I could fulfil this one to your satisfaction! I hope someone with a slightly different hinny interpretation than me might be inspired by it ❤️❤️❤️

[27-royal-teas]

Analyzing the meaning of the song 27 when we line it up with what  we know about the 27 club

So, for context, nobody thought pete would really live past 27. the 27 club is a group of celebrities in the arts that died at age 27 (Amy Winehouse, Jimi Hendrix, Kurt Cobain, etc), usually from their own self-imposed destruction. But fall out boy and their history is so inexplicably tied to this number that I absolutely had to write an essay about it. this song is a complete masterpiece in its own right and it's definitely up in my top three fob songs of all time

The song starts like this:

“if home is where the heart is then we’re all just fucked

i cant remember, i cant remember

And i want it so bad id shoot the sunshine into my veins

I cant remember the good old days”

The first line feels almost like begging. Hes wondering where he belongs, because he doesnt feel safe at home, and this song was during the time where the band was fighting a lot, and they were kind of his home as well. so if home is where the heart is and he doesnt feel safe at any of his homes, if he cant belong, then will he ever? Anywhere? A kerrang feature interviewing pete said that this song was him trying desperately to hold the band together, which is expressed with this first opening line (“if home is where the heart is then we’re all just fucked”). Clearly he is clinging on with a single thread, and this was shown when the band went on hiatus not long after.

‘And i want it so bad id shoot the sunshine into my veins’ obviously a drug reference, of being so desperate that youd do anything to get the good feeling back, and here it is linked to ‘i cant remember the good old days’ because it feels almost like a desperate kind of longing. this might relate to the line ‘you were the sunshine of my lifetime’ which repeats multiple times through fob’s eighth studio album, So Much (for) Stardust. In the context that this is referring to a person (anyone, but likely patrick; pete keeps his lyrics vague for a reason) it would be overexposing yourself to something that gives you temporary happiness but in the long run can kill you. hm just something to consider but i know they probably didnt plan that far ahead lyricwise lol

“And it’s kind of funny,

The way we’re wearing anchors on our shirts

When being anchored aboard just feels like a curse”

A lot of folie is actually linked to this sort of nautical theme (what a catch especially) and i think this references ‘they say the captain goes down with the ship’ because anchors are usually on nautical themed shirts or the shirts of sailors, but pete is saying he hates being tied down to the ‘ship’ which can be interpreted as the band maybe possibly. either way hes definitely pointing out the irony of wearing something that symbolizes stability when he is DEFINITELY not stable (who ever looked at pete wentz and thought ‘this man is stable’?) (i digress)

then comes the chorus. i love this chorus so fucking much it is interpretation goldddd

“My mind is a safe, and if i keep it then we all get rich

my body is an orphanage, we take everyone in

doing lines in dust and sweat

on last night’s stage 

just to feel like you” 

ok so obviously petes referring to his mind as the safe because hes the one who makes the lyrics and thus hes the one who earns the band the profit. Its a safe because he is inscrutable. It is also a safe because he only takes out what he wants, and only he has the key. ‘My body is an orphanage, we take everyone in’ COULD refer to how hes kind of promiscuous but more than that fall out boy was known for being the band that didnt really care who their fans were. They were marketed towards teenage girls and for that they were looked down upon. His body could be a metaphor for the band itself, and taking everyone in could mean that they accept the people that other bands dont typically want as fans. 

‘Doing lines in dust and sweat on last night’s stage just to feel like you” this is a reference to the 27 club, and refers to stars doing drugs to be able to function/feel normal and human again. Idk. i just really like this line its so great

“The m-m-milligrams in my head burning tobacco in the wind

Chasing the direction, chasing the direction you went”

Im going to break this verse in half specifically because patrick fucking does NOT ENUNCIATE and also its long (how many times did i think ‘and youre a bottled star’ was ‘and you’re a bathroom stall’ rip)

The milligrams and the tobacco are pretty self explanatory- more drugs. 27 club connections via the drugs. burning tobacco gives way to the vision of trying to cling on to a high with desperation, and he’s chasing it- chasing the direction it went. 

“youre a bottled star, the planets align, youre just like mars

You shine in the sky, you shine in the sky”

pete uses a TON of star and sky metaphors in his writings, this song included. A bottled star would mean a person who is repressing their talent. It could also mean a celebrity who is drowning their problems in liquor. Mars is the roman god of war and often a symbol of masculinity (although im not sure how relevent the second part is). It means raw, unbridled energy. here pete is saying (in his vague, vague writing voice ://) that when the person he is talking about drinks, they lose all control and are pretty much unstoppable. drawing this to the 27 club, a lot of the members died by alcohol or drug abuse, so it makes sense.

The use of star and sky metaphors throughout this song really bring it home- yes, the stars may be bright and pretty, they might shine and sparkle, but at the end of the day they will burn away and self combust. So we have to hold it together if we want to keep our own worlds in once piece. 

“Are all the good times getting gone

they come and go and go and and come and go, oh yeah

ive got a lot of friends who are stars but some are just black holes”

For this verse lets work our way backwards. more space and star metaphors. stars clearly refers to his friends in the industry, but black holes could mean they have an almost deafening energy, or are on their way to becoming a part of the 27 club itself. The good times coming and going represents the sort of panic thats felt in the entertainment industry as a whole; the competition against time itself, for fear that when youre old people wont want to know what you have to say. So often the people who act and sing are so unbearably young, and once they pass thirty two they arent marketable anymore. pete is putting to words the worry and the scramble to get things done- to make a name for yourself- before your time is up. And AGAIN relating to the number 27, its quickly approaching 30, so you better move fast if you want to become famous. 

The rest of the verses from here are just chorus repeats, so let’s talk about how tangled fall out boy is with the number twenty seven. other than the 27 club, what’s so important about it? It’s not a prime number. Theres really nothing out of the ordinary about it. 

Except, there is. 

Everyone celebrated when pete made it past his 27th birthday. In 2011, patrick wrote his Confessions of a Pariah blog post. He and joe were both 27 at the time, and i think that might have been a deciding factor in what inspired pete to reach out. He didn’t want his best friend to give into depression, much less when he was 27. 

The band got together again not long after that. the first track off Save Rock and Roll, My Songs Know What You Did In The Dark, dropped February 5th, 2013. The rest is pretty much history. 

I don’t know. All speculation. But the number 27 is definitely linked with fall out boy, although it’s not relevant right now, and i just think its so damn interesting

[wowowwild]

I asked for 20 but I also want to ask about 21! I love fic recs.

21. Did you ever read fanfictions? Which one is your personal recommendation?

Sorry it took so long! It took me a while to get everything in order, but here it is.

So fun fact: Whenever I read a fic I love I book mark it with the note j'adore so I can read it again later. Some of them get this note preemptively. I also tend to go through a tag on ao3 in date posted ascending order so I start with the oldest and work my way forward so I don't potentially miss anything, but I haven't made it all the way through some tags that I would like to. If there's a fic you think I would like that's not on here, I probably just haven't gotten to it yet! (Most of the newer ones on here I found through Tumblr.)

Also! I'm pretty sure any of the ones that involve smut I have marked as such, but please check the tags on the actual fic before reading! I am not responsible for what content you choose to consume!

That being said, here is Ace's All Time Best Fic Rec List (AATBFRL for short):

Nobody Can Just Say What They Mean (Series)- The first fic is Narumitsu and the second is Klapollo and I think about them allllll the time, especially Things Are As They Are altered me on a microscopic level. Rocks are just rocks, you know? (Narumitsu, Klapollo)

undeniable you (the currents pulling me onward)- Idk what to say. Kristoph Gavin dies in prison and Klavier is suspect #1. Apollo flies back to defend him and yaoi happens. I'm a sucker for Klav getting all scrungled up.

fame vs infamy (the price of writing fanfic out of spite)- It's a crack fic. It's funny. 10/10 would recommend. (Klapollo)

The Definition Of Home- And there was only one bed?!?!?!?!?! What?!?!?!?! And there was a little angst in the bed?!?!?!?!?! Unbelievable. Actually the angst was on the couch, the bed made it better. (Klapollo)

13 Hours- This fic keeps popping up in my fever dreams. I'm not even kidding. I didn't have it bookmarked the first time around but when I found it again, I was like 'oh, I know this one! It haunts my dreams!' and immediately slapped a j'adore on it. Airport Klapollo getting together.

Dig Enough Graves- This one is still being put out, it's a Klapollo roleswap and I love it. I get so excited when I see it's updated. So many things are happening and we have clues and I'm gonna figure it out, ok? *boston accent* I'm sleuthin 'ere! (rated M for violence and sex reasons)

stop the presses (series)- V funny. Apollo works as a columnist and writes thirst essays about KlavGav and gets a date out of it. I am very impressed with the coding used to make this look the way it does.

And if my wishes could all come true- I have reread this one a couple times. I think about it a lot. It is genuinely so funny and makes me feel all sorts of things. I love pre-relationship klapollo divorce complete with alimony while they were not not dating but actually not dating, Apollo you can't just assume that.

Nothing Like This Feeling- Apollo top suregery fic with a dash of Klapollo!

Turnabout Dishwasher- For when you get the hankering for a 422.6k work of art. It's like three fics in one that happen concurrently, which doesn't sound like a description that makes sense unless you read it. There are so many characters here, and shipping is part of it but it's also a whole lot of everything else. These characters are actually living and you get to take a look see. (klapollo, blackmadhi, wrightworth, look just read the tags on the fic there's so much going on)

Such Terrible Tales- A gorgeous magic filled AU with a focus on the casts of aa5 and aa6 and fun cameos from Investigations (so far). This fic is still on going and I would def recommend reading it as it comes out! I love trying to figure out the lore and what will happen next! This fic kind of pulls me off my hinges lol. (blackmadhi)

You Wear Stripes, Too?- Apollo and Klav come out to each other as trans and nb respectively.

Things Best Shared- Klav teaches Apollo guitar.

For A Bad Time Call Simon Blackquill- Iconic blackmadhi fic. I think about it all the time. V funny fake dating au with bits of angst.

Last Resort- And they were roommates! Blackmadhi roommates with lots of healing and shenanigans.

Dating for a Turnabout- Narumitsu fake dating for a case. Larry is there doing Larry things. Franziska did it to them bc she is very smart and cool.

Vacation All I Ever Wanted- I think about this sooooooo much. Tagline: One condo. Six lawyers. Seven secret plans. What could possibly go wrong? (klapollo, narumitsu, athena blackquill and trucy are there)

Alternative Dispute Resolution- Apollo makes Klavier talk to Mr. Wright before they can start dating. It's awkward (and funny) and Trucy is a delight.

Turn(about) my words- The fic where I realized I instinctively start laughing when someone gets shot. He's fine. uhhh narumitsu, phoenix got shot of course bc why wouldn't he and found family stuff.

You're Alive (And that's the only thing that truly matters.)- Klavier gets poisoned and Edgeworth tells the nurses Apollo is his partner so he can get in to see him. Turns out I don't laugh at poisonings, only shootings.

Dog Days- Apollo and Trucy go to another Gavinners concert and Polly misinterprets everything all the time.

Reckless Endangerment- One of the funniest klapollo get togethers. Pollo insults him real good while he's standing behind him, klav thinks about going abroad to study, phoenix has prosecutor going abroad ptsd, apollo might actually be into the gavinners, or at least the titular member.

Good Advice- Klavier Gavin makes categorically bad decisions in the face of love. (klapollo)

Hot For Justice- klavgav gets a muse, guess who?

Rules for Dating a Rockstar Prosecutor- klapollo first date that literally everyone is more invested in than Apollo (until he actually goes).

The Things We Do For Gym Access- Fake dating so Apollo can use the gym at Klav's place until the one he normally goes to gets fixed. Except they're actually really into each other and it's killing me everyday it's killing me I'm dead I'm dying they're so dense and in love and can't figure out why they haven't been caught and it's bc they actually feel like that and on top of pretend dating are pretending to date each other to themselves just kiss istg. Rated Explicit for sexual reasons.

The Walk to Tomorrow- Narumitsu doing Narumitsu things.

Legal Partners- Oooooooo this one! I also think about this one a lot. Narumitsu and klapollo and everyone is idiots they're all idiots. Klav and Edgeworth make a stupid, stupid bet about who has the more meaningful connection with their preferred defense attorney. I love this type of fic.

Turnabout Rubesville- Edgeworth gets accused of murder in a small town bc he's a grump. Phoenix sorts it out.

You Ever Been In Love?- Everyone gets way too involved in making Wrightworth happen, and it goes horribly until it goes right.

Gravity- Rated Explicit for sex reasons. Tbh I really like the oc. She's real cool. def read the tags for trigger warnings. (klapollo)

The soul truth (and nothing but the truth)- Franmaya! There's some spirit medium shenanigans and Lang is a bro.

Exorcism- Klapollo AU aa4 rewrite Kitty is a doll I love her these boys are unhinged look they have a conspiracy closet ok? Rated E for sex reasons.

Play Your Cards Right- Narumitsu agree to go on a date and shake hands about it. Rated E for sex reasons.

Hostile Environments (Series)- Justquill Shenanigans

satisfaction brought him back- Justquill Simon gets turned into a cat. I love fics where someone gets turned into a cat. There aren't a lot but it is a trope I enjoy. I've def read this one a couple times.

Stripped- Klapollo impending. Apollo is also secretly a stripper. Idk if this fic will ever get finished but I liked everything in it.

Curiosity Created the Cat- Klapollo impending. Also not finished and maybe never will be and only 3 chapters but in this one Klav gets turned into a cat. I'm sorry.

if it's really me you seek- Klapollo. I'm just going to post the official summary bc I j'ador'ed it but I don't remember exactly which one this is: Or, when Apollo comes home from Khura'in only to learn that Prosecutor Gavin is avoiding him, the last thing he expected was for Gavin to offer to let Apollo stay at his house while he looks for a new apartment.

As of right now this is everything in my bookmarks that I've read, I think you can figure out my favorite ship lol.

[anruraiocht]

TOA Anniversary Munday

from neffi (thank you neffi!!)

Celebrating TOA and the people who contribute to make our group what it is.

Repost, don't reblog. Only fill in what you feel comfortable sharing!

Happy anniversary, TOA! Here's to many more years spent together.

Name: limit

Pronouns: they/them

Birthday (no year): 3/8 (thats march 8th for my non-americans)

Where are you from? What is your time zone? US | EST

How long is your roleplay experience? 10+ years

How were you introduced to roleplaying as a whole? i was doing warrior cats roleplay on scratch dot mit dot edu at age 10 brother

How were you introduced to TOA? n was talking about it on call and me and the oomfs decided to play a little prank on him when he went to the bathroom. it was really funny to be fair

Do you have any pets? three dogs (australian shepherd, shiba, chihuahua mix) and a cat (stupid)

What is your favorite time of year and why? (Season, holiday, general period) fall; i have pollen allergies that give me really bad headaches and live in a pollen bowl you can imagine my suffering.

Some interests and things you like/enjoy? i like to play and draw

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play? i'm a visual novel (otome, yuri, general non-romantic) and rhythm game type of guy. jrpgs and action rpgs when i'm in the mood

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon: the only pokemon type that matters to me is Dog

Tell us some funfacts and trivia about yourself! i used my wisdom teeth fun fact last yeah so uhhhhh did you know i can clap one handed but only with my right hand

How did you get into Fire Emblem? i think i saw awakening in gamestop and was like yeag i'll play that. my brother and i had just finished playing virtue's last reward together so we named our robins sigma and phi

What Fire Emblem games have you played? i've at least touched every game except for 1-3 (ymmv how much that means for each game)

First & Favorite Fire Emblem games: Awakening first, FE6 or Engage for fave

List your 5 favorite Fire Emblem characters across the series! honestly just look at my muse list for this one i only write my faves

Who was the first character ever to make you go “ooh I like this one in particular” and why? Can be any context and reason! lyn was the first fe character to really get me excited about fe i was writing essays about her in n's dms while in the middle of classes haha

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳 i am in love with nel like /srs /gen i opened engage on my birthday so i could hear her say happy birthday to me

If you’ve played (or are familiar with) the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays?

Awakening: Chrom (on purpose); married Olivia in my male run. i would still choose chrom Fates: kaden and keaton for birthright and conquest respectively. i stopped playing once i had my furry daughters. LMAO. Three Houses: never got that far. dorothea and mercedes probably. Engage: i have commitment issues and this is why i dont finish games

Favorite Fire Emblem class? Dark Mage(s)

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class and stats? Would you be playable? sticking with what i said last year; a mage that just completely sucks ass. repping my special girls by also being a character that makes people say "why would you use them"

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation? i apparently said golden deer last year. yeah sure

If you were an Officers Academy student, what would be your boons, banes and potential budding talent? Reason boon, Heavy Armor and Faith Banes, bow budding talent

If you were an Engage character, which nation would you originate from? i was gonna say elusia but then i remembered solm is partially brazil inspired and i felt my father breathing down my neck to not betray his country

How do you pronounce TOA? TOE-uh

Current TOA muses: Miranda, Marni, Reginn

Past TOA muses? Volug, Lyn, Sophia

Who was your first TOA muse? If you no longer have them, can you see yourself picking them up again? Volug; he's comfortably retired.

Do you believe you have a type of character you gravitate towards writing? the three limit muse genders are as follows:

-depersonalization and/or self-isolation (we're not the same and never will be) -my siblings are all i have (but i dont know if love is enough to save us) -oh god where does the anger go after everything is over ..............the bonus limit muse gender is "man who is funny" ftr

Do you have characters or types of characters you don’t think you can handle writing, but wish you could? i think i could do anything if i tried hard enough (hubris speaking) but i would have to become obsessed with them first which is the hard part because i feel like i'm pretty picky

What kind of scenes, situations etc do you believe you enjoy writing the most? i've really gotten back into my complicated sibling relationship era lately. i like non-traditional family relationships in general and having to work to keep that connection alive. i like relationships between women (not necessarily romantic but also yeah i'm a lesbian so romantic too) and the nuances that come with that. Honestly i like talking about gender in general HAHA

Do you have any scenario in mind for your muse(s) that gets you thinking “man I hope I get to write this one day”? just happy to be here tbh :)

Favorite TOA-related memories? my friemds :)

Present or past tense? present tense but honestly i think im really bad at tenses. LMFAO.

Normal size text, small text, no preference? normal size is my default. i'll match whatever my partner prefers

Got any potential muse delusions to share? 😉 wouldnt you like to know weatherboy

[pikapeppa]

In Becoming Whole, Aloy seemed much more willing to let Kotallo in. Sure, it wasn’t easy for her but she seemed so ready to trust him…

With Drakka though, she just seems so angry and so often shuts down when things get too real.

I can see that both versions of Aloy have the same concerns, insecurities, and trauma… but with Kotallo she seemed to want what she could have with him, and pushed herself to honestly share herself with him, even if it scared her or felt like a betrayal to her divine mission etc.

And with Drakka she just seems so much more tortured and haunted. I know that you fleshed out her reactions/feelings to Drakka a fair bit during his base visit, but it seems at odds with Kotallo’s version of Aloy.

Was there any particularly reason you’ve made Desert Bloom’s Aloy more reserved?

I know you’ve been winging a lot of this but do you have any thoughts on whether it’s a personality thing… a trust thing… anything? 😂

In my mind Drakka is the home she’s always wanted and is desperate to protect it… but I’d much prefer your pov lol

Sorry for the essay! Love your work x

Ah yes, the comparison of Aloy-with-Kotallo vs. Aloy-with-Drakka… This is what I bring on myself when writing two concurrent ships with Aloy (technically three including Avad LOL).

The way I see it, I haven’t made Aloy a different person in Desert Blooms compared to Becoming Whole. She was the same person with the same trauma/concerns/insecurities when she met Kotallo and when she met Drakka. It’s that Kotallo and Drakka are very different people, and the quality+amount of time she spent with each of them was VERY different, so her dynamics with each of them have resulted in relationships that look quite different. 

More below the cut!

One of the things I love so much about Aloy as a protag is that she’s so multifaceted: she can be gentle and empathetic, she can be sassy and lighthearted, and she can be downright rude/sharp (in the best way sometimes, e.g. with Studious Vuadis LMAO), and all of those mannerisms for her are in-character — and this is also reflective of how people are IRL. I know for sure that I act differently with my husband vs. with my closest girlfriends vs. with colleagues at work, but all of the ways I act are still “me”. Similarly, the “me” I was with my high school boyfriend is different from the “me” I am now with my husband. Part of that is time/age/experience, for sure, but it’s also a function of the man I was with/am with — but both versions of me are still “me”. Maybe this sounds stupid and self-explanatory, but we are changed and affected by the people we have relationships with, and this is why Aloy “seems” so different with Kotallo vs. Drakka. 

With Kotallo in Becoming Whole, there are so many reasons that Aloy opened up more quickly. I made a table to make it easier to compare these reasons side-by-side and because I’m a fucking nerd LOL. Please do tap to enlarge if you're so inclined, I'm sorry for the small font -- blame technical issues on my side for this 😂😭💀:

(Note that the above is based on headcanons unless otherwise stated.)

There’s probably more I could add to this table, but I think this is enough for now without me looking like Charlie Day in that meme LOL.

In any case, this reply might come a little late since some of your questions might get addressed in the chapter of Desert Blooms that I just posted 😂 but in any case, I hope this was an interesting response! 

-- love from your friendly neighbourhood Pika! xoxo

[sugoi-and-spice]

So, out of curiosity and need...mostly need with a hint of curiosity...What ARE your hcs(at least the ones that have been revealed but I am big dumb/ones you wish to share) for Tomura in play nice? I know you have a Dust Daddy Bible with this information in it. Sharing is caring. We need our daily juice.

Ooooooh, this is a really interesting question - essentially headcanoning my own character! Lol! I'm trying to think of what Play Nice Shigaraki headcanons I can reveal without spoiling anything/that hasn't already been revealed. Most of my Dust Daddy Bible (LOVE this btw, lol), is backstory that I can't totally reveal yet.

Alright, maybe I'll expand on/clarify some points that have shown up in the series.

Shigaraki didn't go straight from his birth family to AFO's care. He spent about three years in the foster system between then. He had a rough time in it (like many kids do), got in a lot of fights in school and at "home", faced a lot of bullying and abuse, and spent a lot of time on the streets. More details to come in story.

AFO is very aware of Shigaraki's initial extortion of MC - it was, in fact, AFO's intention for MC to be a little hookup for him. He didn't really care how it happened, if she'd be wow'd by money and status or would need to blackmailed, etc - and to be honest, he didn't really care. He could tell that Shigaraki needed an outlet and had tried to hire him hookers/take him to soaplands before, which Shigaraki vehemently rejected. So he figured an arrangement like this would work better.

His insomnia, night terrors, and memory loss are driven by PTSD and to be revealed mental illness. He's cycled a lot of different medications, but very little therapy. The reason for this is, also, to be revealed.

He and Spinner are the same year in college, but Spinner is actually two years older. Dabi is also older, but has a few overlapping GE's with Shigaraki. Shigaraki did know them both before college however, through circumstances that are still to be revealed. (¬‿¬)

Aaaaaand, I guess here are a couple of little fun ones too xD

He hates Hollywood blockbusters almost on principal, especially superhero movies (of course lol). He thinks they paint an unrealistically optimistic view of the world that makes people stupid. The same applies to rom-coms. He's a horror guy, through and through. And while he'll never admit it, MC definitely gets him into reality tv.

He's primarily a PC gamer. His Switch was actually probably his least-touched console pre-story. But since it was MC's main console, he got a lot more into it.

Writing is his worst subject. He has particular trouble with argumentative and creative essays. His best subject is, predictably, math.

While he has a lot of distaste for "popular kids"... he's super into cheerleading uniforms. That whole corruption kink thing. He wanted to go to MC's Sports Festival this year (about a month after they met) until he found out that she was not going to be part of the cheerleading demonstration (she was participating in main events with her club), and got kind of pissy about it.

This was fun! Might add onto this through reblogs if I think of anything else - but if you have any specific questions (or HC's of your own), I'm also happy to give my take on those too! ^_^

Like my work? Please consider contributing to my Ko-Fi!

[blizzardsuplex]

“like watching art in motion” (an essay on ZSJ and wrestling)

CW: discussions of gatekeeping

I didn’t have internet for over three days, and so in my total boredom I opened up my Microsoft Word and began tinkering with a “casual essay” on my favorite wrestler, Zack Sabre Jr. But I can’t talk about Zack without talking about how I feel about and my experiences with pro wrestling as a whole, so over 3.2k words later, here we are.

(I didn’t mean it to get so long...nor, in truth, get so personal. I’ve been carrying this with me for a long time, though, so I guess it had to come out eventually. Things like that always do.)

Title from a comment I saw on Reddit about Zack in 2016. Content under the cut. Special thanks to @heartsinablender/Izzy, who encouraged me to write and eventually post this in semi-public. :)

~~~~

My absolute earliest memories of professional wrestling are of reading next to my favorite uncle while he watched early to mid-2000s era Smackdown on one of those old, boxy TVs, but my first formative memory related to it is talking to one of my classmates, an enthusiastic prowres fan in the way children can be, on the stands by the soccer field during P.E. I don’t remember how the conversation started, but eventually (as it usually did) it landed on the object of his interest.

“I watch wrestling, sometimes,” I threw out, having at that point probably paid attention to a grand total of less than an hour of WWE. His eyes grew wide, then narrowed.

“Yeah?” he said. “Name ten wrestlers.”

He’d said it in a way that felt final, like he was sure that I wouldn’t be able to answer his challenge. It lit a fire under me, and I said “The Undertaker” as quick as a slap. He was unfazed, however, and all too soon I faltered: “The Great Khali, John Cena, Triple H, Booker T…uh. The Great Khali—“

“You said him twice,” my classmate said smugly. He turned away from me, back to the soccer game.

I don’t remember what I replied to the side of his face or what I did immediately after; it didn’t matter. I’d already failed the test, and no matter how biased its giver was, the fact I’d proven him right sucked.

~~~~

This is an essay about how I feel about the professional wrestler Zack Sabre Jr. This is also, if the above hasn’t clued you in, an essay about my personal history and relationship with professional wrestling. These ideas are not only closely related but intertwined, two vines. As with anything alive, both have their periods of growth and withering, fecundity and barrenness, somewhat independent of each other but in the end—as with any ecosystem—affecting the very same, sometimes in dramatic ways.

But even the strongest vines need something to wrap around if they ever hope to reach the sun. Where did these find their base?—my very body, frail as it is compared to the kinds of people who take up the path of the wrestler. That’s the funny thing about entertainment, I’ve found: the people you watch, whether on stage or in ring or on a screen, seem like invincible titans…as long as you’re watching them. The minute you turn your eyes away, they start to wilt; when you turn your back, they wither. With enough lack of care (in every sense), anyone could tear off the leaves and stems and just leave.

I could leave. I’ve almost left. Certainly I’ve drifted away from it on occasion. But so far I’ve always come back, or maybe more precisely I’ve let those vines wind and wind and wind ‘round me again, and more often than not ZSJ—what he represents to my conception of wrestling—is to blame.

~~~~

After I had tried and failed at the task of naming ten wrestlers, I remember feeling embarrassed. Now—though for a completely different reason—I feel outright ashamed. Now, I know too intimately what eight-year-old me could only barely comprehend: why he had issued that challenge in the first place. I was a girl, and I was an unathletic twig, and I was the most bookish of nerds, and while one or even two of those traits might have been acceptable in a “real fan”…all three of those things? Never. A classic example of gatekeeping—and for a while mentally that one interaction was successful at keeping me out.

But at the time it was “just” embarrassment, and as much as I hate to admit it that feeling followed me even after I began actually watching WWE with my uncle and cousin. Dipping your toes into any new activity or hobby, especially one with the amount of layers pro wrestling does, is daunting enough without the constant fear of somehow being discovered and kicked out of that space before my time, though of course my family wouldn’t do that—or, worse, laughed at, which they might’ve. The fact that my cousin was a year younger than me but, at least at first, knew more than I did didn’t really help: she never gatekept, but how she took every chair shot and dick kick we watched in stride (it was during Christian’s feud with Randy Orton) while I was left scratching my head a bit made me feel, as with my classmate, like a poser.

Well, I didn’t want to be a poser anymore, so I went to that great well of information: the internet. Specifically, I went on TV Tropes (yeah, I know) and read the pages on professional wrestling and WWE; while I was aware that there were other promotions, especially after reading the former—I remember the promotion name Ring of Honor getting a cool! from me—I wasn’t interested in anything but the “basics” at that point. What was a heel, a face, a tweener? What did it mean when someone did a shoot on another? What even was the Attitude Era, and why did people like it so much (a question that to this day I’m not sure I can answer)?

I got those down in a reasonable amount of time. Then, something interesting began to happen: I felt compelled to keep reading more about it. I honestly don’t remember the specifics—which names, memes, and tragedies (always in a WWF/WWE context) my brain absorbed like a sponge. All I know is that, after a couple of months, I ended up quite a bit like a smark. So I did get what I wanted: no longer did I feel like a fake fan, even if it came at the cost of somewhat alienating my cousin (who was beginning to lose interest in wrestling) and my uncle.

That wasn’t the most interesting thing I got out of my wiki walking days, though. Because of my (in truth middling-depth) dive into (a very narrow slice of) the prowres ocean, 12 to 13-year-old me thought I had figured this whole professional wrestling thing out: it was bright, it was flashy, it was written like a soap opera. It was entertaining, sometimes off of sheer cringe-inducing antics and sometimes out of sheer spectacle. What counted as spectacle, meanwhile?—the flippiest of flips, dramatic kickouts, muscled people billed at two whole feet taller than me hollering at each other in the ring. It was violent (but not too much, for the sponsors’ sake) and it was slickly produced and it had the best kind of nonsensical internal logic.

Of course, that is what wrestling is…sometimes. There’s nothing wrong with that, or anything wrong with watching wrestling like that, either. My mistake as a child was putting it in a box, thinking that everything I just said was everything it could and can be. I was lukewarm on the idea of prowres presented more sport-like, didn’t know how it could be entertaining without a writer’s room’s worth of storylines. As for pro wrestling being art, or even just beautiful—those two concepts seemed so far apart that to use the word never even crossed my mind.

~~~~

So stayed my thoughts on it until, when I was maybe 13 or 14, I fell head-first into hipsterdom (in the “wanting to like things before they were cool” sense). It happened with music, it happened with video games, and it happened with wrestling. Though I still watched WWE, I began to look beyond its borders—which is to say I began paying attention to trope examples by wrestlers I wasn’t familiar with. Those entries, along with a few well-placed links to 240p YouTube videos, were how I found my first favorite wrestler…who was, of all people, Chuck Taylor (who I still love, don’t get me wrong).

But wrestling news moves fast—even faster than the editors at early 2010s TV Tropes, and especially those editors who cared about keeping an independent wrestler’s page up to date. I knew that, if I wanted to know more about Chuckie T and his Gentleman’s Club, I would have to look elsewhere.

I found two places: a wrestling forum literally just called Wrestling Forum, and a newish subreddit called /r/squaredcircle. I proceeded to lurk on both, but it was on Reddit a year or so later that I found the post that ended up being the catalyst for my wrestling fandom from that point forward—a mention that Chuck Taylor wrestled at this supposedly really cool promotion called Pro Wrestling Guerrilla during their yearly Battle of Los Angeles, and that the footage of that show was finally out.

I don’t know when I found the time to look for it. When I think back to that Saturday afternoon, navigating with no adblock to a sketchy wrestling stream archive on a desktop already considered ancient, all I remember is how curious I was when—after giving it a couple of minutes to buffer—I finally pressed play.

~~~~

The match, if you want to find it yourself, is the Friends of Low Moral Fiber (Kenny Omega, Chuck Taylor, and Zack Sabre Jr.) versus the Young Bucks and Adam Cole from BOLA 2014 Night 1. Back then, every single one of those names were established or rising players in the independent scene; now, of course, they’ve all been in multiple top-level promotions around the world. For this and several other reasons, I haven’t been able to watch that contest back before, just last year, I found it in its entirety on YouTube. The channel quickly got taken down, but not before I snagged a copy for myself; in fact, I made the effort to get it as soon as I saw it was the real deal. As someone once told me, pro wrestling is one of the most ephemeral of entertainment forms—and also I don’t have the money for both a DVD player and to ship from the US to watch it legitimately.

But I wasn’t thinking about that when I was 14 or 15 years old. At the time, the only person I really knew or cared about in that match was Chuck, and so as the introductions happened I eagerly awaited his time in the ring (even back then, I held the opinion that he was an underrated worker). Instead, his team first fielded the skinny man with the Union Jack jacket, the one who’d gotten right into the other side’s faces. Zack Sabre Jr., I recalled as everyone got into their corners. A cool name, if a little overwrought.

The bell rang. Twenty-four minutes later, I paused the video and spent hours searching that “overwrought” name everywhere, looking for more clips of him, more discussion on him—more of his wrestling.

~~~~

What can I say about Zack Sabre Jr. in the context of wrestling that probably hasn’t already been said a million times? He has an atypical build for a wrestler, especially before his recent bulk up: tall but very lean—or outright skinny if you’re feeling uncharitable. His promo style is one I have seen called “extremely British” and “hilariously unhinged” (which, considering everything happening in the UK, maybe mean the same thing). He has some pretty sick taste in indie entrance themes. And, of course, he is considered one of the best technical wrestlers in the world—maybe of all time, and certainly in this generation.

To me, though, he is (simply, encompassingly) my favorite wrestler, and upon watching that BOLA match back it isn’t necessarily because I was wowed by the smoothness of his technique (though I was) or impressed by his underrated speed (though I was) or even in awe of his flexibility (though I definitely was—and here I shout out Adam Cole for helping make Zack’s first in-ring impression such a memorable one). No; it was because, for the very first time, I realized professional wrestling wasn’t cut and dry, contained within the box I had tried to place it in.

Read what I described my younger self’s conception of prowres to be…or, if you prefer, think back to the height of PG era WWE. To my mind, wrestling was supposed to almost overwhelm, saturate the senses. Wrestling was bright, flashy, melodramatic, violent—loud.

The footage I watched that day was loud, too; even through the shitty speakers and video quality, it was clear that the Reseda faithful knew how to have a good fucking time. But whenever Zack was in the ring, it was quiet—sometimes literally, but I more mean in movement, in intent. He convinced me from the first lock up that he was absolutely focused on how he could twist his body and how he could turn his opponent’s, that he aware of and could manipulate every single joint and muscle and ligament offered to him. He convinced me that it was, at that moment, all he cared about. It was still violence, of course; all his graceful movements were in service of hurting another. But it was an elegant violence, a quiet violence.

Pro wrestling, the profession of machismo and posturing, could be quiet. Who knew? Before I saw Zack wrestle, I didn’t, and nor did I ever consider the logical question to ask after: if it could be quiet—the complete opposite of what I thought it was—what else was it? What else might it become?

Beautiful, maybe?

I didn’t know then and I don’t know now. Whether wrestling is art is a discussion I leave to people with far more time and far more knowledge of aesthetics than I do. What I do know is this: I not only put it in the wrong box, I was wrong to put it in a box. Professional wrestling is no dead thing, no solved problem—it was, and is, alive, and at its best exists as a creative medium with so many possibilities. Sure, we all have our preferences, and prowres has space for loudness, almost deafening; but it has space for the quiet as well.

~~~~

It would be one thing if ZSJ was a flash in the pan, someone who rose in the business just far enough to get a handful of PWG bookings before fizzling out. If that were the case, I suppose I could expound on the point about prowres being ephemeral, say something that would amount to “the world may have moved on from him, but I’ll never forget how he opened my eyes all those years ago”. But that would be both extremely disingenuous and, to be honest, make a worse narrative. That one match made me understand wrestling more; following Zack’s career afterwards made me love it.

A not insignificant part to this is the fact I hitched my cart to a damn good horse—if Zack was good in 2014, he got even better as the years went by. While he was always a joy to see work, once he improved at selling in particular (which I never thought he was horrible at, mind, but watching early tapes back you can tell the difference), his matches went from baseline good to great; who doesn’t enjoy watching ZSJ crumple and ragdoll around the ring these days? Yet another big reason I am genuinely grateful for his wrestling is far beyond him: ZSJ was my passport to the rest of the wrestling world. Through him, I discovered so many promotions, so many other amazing wrestlers. There was PWG, of course—tying Mike Bailey into knots in the finals of a BOLA, making Chris Hero’s finger bleed, going to war with Roderick Strong over the belt. There was him countering Will Ospreay’s top rope move into a triangle choke that one Wrestlemania weekend. It was him who put me on to European wrestling, with WxW and RevPro and everyone else. His fight with Negro Casas was the first time I’d seen a mat-based lucha match. And, of course, without him I wouldn’t have started watching New Japan, and without New Japan I would’ve never seen any of the amazing people that make up the puro and/or joshi scene.

I always, always come back to Zack himself, though, it’s true. And maybe, some might suggest, it’s at least partly out of a mix of nostalgia and novelty—he was the first wrestler I paid attention to that looked different and wrestled different from what I considered the norm. When I’m put in a hyperfocused trance by the quiet of his matches, past and present, perhaps it’s just my subconscious, somehow, paying respect to how he made that young teen feel.

My answer to that is…well, maybe a little. But ZSJ doesn’t coast by on that alone—he is continually improving, continually striving to improve, and I couldn’t be happier that he’s getting his due. And, like with professional wrestling itself, I find happiness in that match from 2014 (almost a decade ago, now!) not only out of a sense of nostalgia, or even its own sake, but because it’s proof of what Zack Sabre Jr. was and has now become.

~~~~

A trio of ZSJ-related anecdotes to round things off:

1.) When I was in late high school, I did a school project on professional wrestling. The local guy I interviewed was honestly pretty gracious, but something he said nagged at me. “Pro wrestling,” he tried to explain to me, even before I said anything about what I watched, “isn’t just like WWE.” I know, I wanted to reply. My favorite wrestler is Zack Sabre Jr. I watch mostly American indies. Why are you assuming that I don’t know that?—but it would have come across indignant, and so I held my tongue.

2.) A few months later, I wrote a post on Facebook on why I liked pro wrestling, inspired by my discovery of Barthes’ essay on it in his Mythologies. My old classmate, the one who gatekept me when we were both eight, saw it—and he not only liked it, not only commented positively on it, but even DMed me. “Who’s your favorite wrestler?” he asked me. “Zack Sabre Jr.,” I said. He then proceeded to approve, saying that he was great in the Cruiserweight Classic; he was then surprised when I said I’d been following his career for a while even before that.

3.) When my older sister and I were in the women’s section of the Tokyo Dome during Wrestle Kingdom 14 Night 1, we ended up sitting next to and chatting with an Australian lady who got into NJPW because of her boyfriend (they both really liked Ospreay). When ZSJ came down to the ring, I heard her say encouragingly to me “that’s your Zack”. I’m not sure if I’d ever say he’s mine, but that was the night, maybe even the moment, that the very beginnings of this essay were born: when I realized how much he’d influenced at least this part of my life. Suddenly, I wanted nothing more than to jump down fifteen rows of seats and shake his hand, tell him even a little what his performances meant to me.

But that was not the time for that; three years later I still haven’t found the time for it, living where I do. Instead, I ended up, and end up, just sitting in my chair, screaming wordlessly at the top of my lungs, and watching him wrestle.

[calamity-unlocked]

Sigh. I accidentally posted my half-finished answer to a really kind ask and then in a panic deleted all of it.

So! Rewriting it all. (Hope you'll see this, anon <3) I unfortunately don't have a copy of the ask, but what anon basically asked for were my reasons why I stopped listening to dndads.

There are a couple, mostly boiling down to that I felt increasingly frustrated with Anthony and the waste of potential in season 2. I'll elaborate on this - really happy someone asked me about this actually, I've been looking for an excuse to write out my thoughts on the matter.

Dndads negativity under the cut (aka hater hours)

First of all prefacing this with saying that the most important factor was probably my personal mental health. But we're not here to talk about that, we're here to rant!! So, here is my little wordspew which I've been wanting to write for literal months:

Rejecting the Storytelling Medium You Use and Ignoring the Consequences

Let's start on a positive note; I love the comedy of this show and the cast's chemistry. Every time I listened to an episode, I laughed so hard my jaw hurt. They are incredibly funny people.

However, every time as the credits rolled after "On My Way," a sense of nervous disappointment lingered. The problem sat in season 2's story. Every episode is funny, but the narrative steps that were taken were just frustrating, going in a direction that lead either to meaningless conflict or another fetch quest with minimal results.

Dungeons and Daddies should not be a Dungeons and Dragons podcast.

People struggling with the rules and deciding to do their own thing with it can have its charm - it never annoyed me in the first season of the Adventure Zone. But with dndads it actively hinders the show and the storytelling.

It's just... Anthony isn't that good of a DM.

He knows the rules of d&d 5e. He just doesn't want to use them. He gets frustrated when his players take creative actions that undermine the story he planned out. An example is the confrontation between the teens and Willy. Lots of really creative actions and high-level spells were used, but Anthony consistently shut those down and in the end it all went according to how he wanted it to go.

They frequently rerecord scenes when they feel it didn't work out. That's not exactly letting the dice decide, which is what the whole genre is based on!

My sister and I used to speculate on where the story could go, and we often jokes 'this is good stuff, Anthony Buch take notes', and those jokes turned from (affectionate) to (derogatory) once it became clear to us that the direction Anthony was taking really didn't sit right with us.

Season 2 truly had so much potential. We have a set of really interesting PCs who have a strong relationship with a set of equally (if not more) interesting NPCs. The setup of the Doodler as a bbeg was great - and so was the reveal of the Doodler's true feelings.

But the story dragged out, didn't grow, the jokes detracted and distracted from the narrative, emotional beats were unearned, etc. I was bored with the characterization of the kiddads and their actions. The return of the og dads was messy and took away from the story. The three month time skips during a period in which there were supposed to be stakes made me want to rip my hair out.

There's a whole other essay I can make about how d&dads undermines it own stakes, but this is already getting too long so that's for another time.

Also, and I'm so sorry to use Anthony as a punching bag this much, but the man verbally undermines himself so much. He constantly says he doesn't like the second season, negatively compares both PCs and storybeats with the first season, and disses his own capabilities. I understand anxiety well, believe me I do, but continuously saying that you don't think this thing you've created is any good to your fans on your own podcast gets frustrating. This seems to me something you share your personal circle or your therapist, not to your thousands of fans who probably listen to the podcast because it brings them joy!

I have so much more to say, talking about this truly sparks joy in me. But all that matters I suppose is that I've happily divorced. Sadly writing about Lark Oak genuinely helps me cope with all the stuff that's going on, so I'll be tied to this podcast for a while longer.