im so curious, ive been dying to ask you this:
which soulcalibur ships interest you the most? for the canon ones (lol the few that we have), what about them speak to you? for the noncanon ones, where is the potential for them in your eyes?
Okay, this is probably going to be a bit of a mess, but I'll try to keep it concise. Not jinxing it at all. Going off the top of my head... (drum roll)
Canon
Kilik/Xianghua: It's not for nothing that I summed this one up as "complicated, but dammit if I'm not there for the emotional roller-coaster" in this ask from a while back. I don't want to harp on why the way it ended in the old timeline makes sense to me, but again, I'm a sucker for star-crossed lovers. 'Tis better to have loved than to have lost than to never love at all, and all that... Also, I get the feeling that some overlook the fact that Kilik was raised in a Buddhist monastery as something that plays into his decisions.
Li Long/Chie: The accidental tragicomedy of "My girlfriend's a ninja?!", as I like to call it. Li Long started off as a hotheaded assassin who bit off more than he could chew while deep in enemy territory, and would've bled to death if Chie hadn't found him by chance. I like to imagine them gradually bonding as she nurses him back to health... all while hiding the fact that she and her father are fugitive ninjas, of course. (I've thought about these two a lot because I've had a fic languishing in my drive since 2020. Also, Chie's muteness gives me an excuse to practice describing a range of nonverbal cues for just about anything.) Long story short (pun not not intended), he went through hell and back for her... And it all worked out. Since he ends up in the ranks of the Fu-Ma clan during the pre-SC5 timeskip, I like to think he was a good adoptive dad to Natsu. He probably left the demon stuff to Chie and Taki, though.
Not canon (but I can always dream)
Siegfried/Salia: The Schwarzwind side-missions in Libra of Soul were my fuel, especially with Salia keeping the group together long after Siegfried ran off. ("Because without us, he would have no one to return to...") I think her feelings toward Siegfried were only mentioned in supplementary material before, so I was particularly happy about this part of the "Feelings Shared" side-mission:
Sounds like an open secret to me! (Pardon the uneven cropping.)
To me, Siegfried and Salia have the sort of dynamic that writes itself. Close friends, erstwhile partners-in-crime, leader and tactician... What was that line in Siegfried's SC4 prologue? Something about not letting anyone touch his heart?
(T_T)
To be fair, having a child born with latent Soul Edge energy would be a reasonable worry for him. That might be part of it.
Bonus: according to this relationship chart from New Legends of Projects Soul (page 118), Siegfried's mother sees Salia as "a nice girl, too good for her own son"!
(I'm probably showing more of that section than I need to.)
And now we enter my self-indulgence zone.
I've been playing around with a (very id-driven) Mitsurugi/Taki scenario and went into crackpot mode to flesh it out. It's an AU partly because I think it would take a lot for Mitsurugi to see Taki as something more than She-who-dares-get-in-my-way... Like, oh I don't know, him jumping at the chance to do some mercenary work, even if it means getting caught up in the Fu-Ma clan's business (and Taki watching him like a hawk the entire time). A fair trade for that shard of Soul Edge he picked up long ago? This is all supposed to diverge from some point after Mitsurugi returns to Japan too late for the Battle of Sekigahara (during the pre-SC5 timeskip). For now it's a bunch of notes and scenes clogging my phone's memo app.
There's just... something about a pair of rivals growing to trust each other enough to show their vulnerable sides, I'll say that much for now. Man, that was a lot of words for what started as my brain going NOW KISS.
Sorry this took two weeks. Thanks for asking!
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30. Wrestling - TMNT 1990s
"You are unique among your brothers, for you choose to face this enemy alone. But as you face it, do not forget them, and do not forget me. I am here, my son."
Splinter breathes deeply, allowing the flow of air to guide the outside world to the forefront of his awareness. Stale subterranean scent, cushioned armchair beneath him, dim candlelight, footsteps. Someone has drawn him out of meditation. Perhaps his sons are home earlier than expected.
"You may enter, Raphael," he offers to the hovering shadow. The turtle creeps inside, halting but a moment before bowing deeply.
He smiles warmly, "Have you and your brothers returned?"
"The guys are still out." Raphael's shoulders hunch; from what emotion, he cannot tell. "I, I didn't go with them."
The scattered candles flicker. A great darkness seems to cross Raphael, and he glimpses someone very much unlike his passionate son. Someone exhausted, worn down, nearing the brink of collapse.
Raphael's voice brittles, "Can I stay with you?"
Splinter's not sure what is more alarming, that Raphael has declined an opportunity to go to the surface—with his brothers, no less—or this weariness so evident in him.
"What troubles you?" He implores.
Raphael shakes his head mutely.
He insists, trying to keep his disquiet at bay, "I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is wrong."
A coarse whisper, "It's nothing."
"This is not nothing," he creaks to his feet, "You must—"
"Dad."
The sudden plea stills them both.
"Master Splinter." His heart wrenches at the self-conscious amendment. It is not one he needs to make. Not about this. Not ever.
"Please, can I just," Raphael cuts himself off, breathing shallowly. Another flicker of candlelight and Splinter catches the sheen of tears in his eyes.
"Oh," he breathes. What a fool he is. His son has come seeking comfort and company, not interrogation.
"Yes. Yes, come." He beckons, reseating himself. "Sit with me."
Raphael shuffles deeper into the train car, kneeling stiffly. Splinter clucks softly, reaching for his arm to pull him against the chair. He curls forward without resistance, breath hitching.
"My son," he says, soothing with hands and words. "I am sorry. You may always come to me. You need not tell me what is on your mind to do so."
He is unsurprised but nevertheless heartbroken as Raphael releases a heavy sob, giving in to whatever weight he has been carrying. Tears prick in his own eyes at the openly hurting sound. He internally chides the parts of himself that demand answers over acceptance with open arms. Wrapping them now around as much of Raphael as he can, he mourns with his son so clearly wrestling with a great burden. He sends a prayer of gratitude to his Master Yoshi for guiding Raphael to him when that weight grew too large to bear alone.
Much time passes before the rest of his sons return. Long after Raphael cries himself past exhaustion into sleep. At some point, concerned at the angle of his son's neck, Splinter maneuvers out of his chair to rest them more comfortably on the floor. His ears prick at a whisper of movement. Ah, three movements.
Michelangelo peers into the train car, his brothers close behind. "Oh," he blinks, "he really did stay here."
Protectiveness flares within Splinter. "We should not begrudge Raphael's need for comfort or rest," he reproves.
Michelangelo's eyes widen in dismay, "Of course not!"
Donatello shakes his head, "No, we're not— We don't think Raph—" His eyes dart as they do when he's searching for the most precise explanation. "We're just worried about him."
"He's been having a rough week," Leonardo murmurs.
Oh, his sweet sons. He should not have been so quick to assume they meant anything uncharitable when they are but concerned brothers. As with Raphael, he wishes they had come sooner instead of struggling and worrying alone. He can be grateful they are here now.
"Tell me," he invites, resting a muffling hand on Raphael's tympanum.
They glance between themselves as they kneel, silently urging one another to speak first. He is careful to display only calm patience despite his inner turmoil.
Michelangelo finally bursts, "He's not eating." The other two look at him, befuddled.
"Okay, he's not, not eating," he revises, "but he didn't even finish a whole pizza at April's on Monday!"
Splinter trusts this is a remarkable incident, given their identically serious nods.
"I think he's having nightmares," Donatello contributes. "At the very least, he's not sleeping well. I keep finding him awake at odd hours, and sometimes he's pretty freaked."
Splinter huffs fondly. "Should I ask what you are doing awake at 'odd hours', Donatello?" The turtle shrugs cheekily.
He ponders these insights, soothing Raphael as he twitches. Do dreams haunt him now, even surrounded by loved ones?
"Leonardo?" he prompts, drawing his final son from deep thought.
Leonardo begins slowly as if unsure, "He's been more focused during training." As they all have. With their many hardships, each of his sons has increased their dedication to learning ninja, whether they realise it or not.
He listens keenly as Leonardo continues, "But when we're out, he hesitates. I've never seen so much slip past his defense."
He hums, "You are concerned he is a danger to himself and your brothers?"
"Never," Leonardo swears.
He tilts his head, not unkindly.
"Well, yeah, I guess," Leonardo concedes. "But not like that. Raph usually loves fighting." His eyes resonate with confusion and grief and fear. "He doesn't seem to enjoy it much lately. And he's always so tired, Master Splinter. It has to be more than him not sleeping."
"Maybe they're connected," Donatello suggests, "Maybe whatever's going on is affecting his sleep, and improper sleep is exacerbating the symptoms, on and on in a vicious cycle of—"
Michelangelo groans, "We get it, Donnie."
"Shh, quiet," Leonardo hisses.
They shush each other back and forth as Splinter watches Raphael slumber with a heavy heart. Holding up a paw, they fall silent. "You are right, my sons. Raphael is wrestling with something very grave indeed."
He reaches out to them. "My turtles, you have been through so much in your young lives." They lean in, allowing him to rest a hand on them, one by one.
"How do we help him?" Michelangelo asks.
Moved as he always is by Michelangelo's generous spirit, he is loath to admit he has no answer. He is stopped before he can.
"By following Master Splinter's teachings," Leonardo pronounces, looking at him eagerly. "Ultimate mastery comes not of the body but of the mind. Through mindfulness and unity, we draw each other up."
He is humbled to hear his own words in his son's voice. Warm with pride, he inclines his head.
"A break certainly couldn't hurt," Donatello rubs his chin, "A little downtime to focus on rest and healing together."
Michelangelo brightens. "Like family time!"
Donatello and Leonardo share a fond glance. "Yeah, Mikey," Leonardo says, tucking the turtle under his arm, "like family time."
"You guys are the sappiest suckers I've ever known." Splinter chuckles as Leonardo and Michelangelo startle at Raphael's sudden utterance.
Donatello laughs, "Please, you know like seven people."
"Yeah, an' the other three are normal," Raphael grumbles. Yet he unabashedly proves himself equally "sappy" as he shifts to nuzzle Splinter's hand.
Recovering from their shock, Michelangelo exclaims, "Raph!" as Leonardo yelps, "You're awake!?"
Raphael yawns widely, opening one eye briefly to check the room. "Hard to sleep with the lot of you yappin'." He appears, if only for this moment, at ease. It is a gift to see him comfortable and unguarded. More so, Splinter acknowledges, because these things have been absent in him for too long.
"I won't say no to a break," he mumbles. He lifts a hand to swat at Leonardo blindly, "But I refuse to participate in anything called 'family time'."
Leonardo evades the wild arm, a mischievous spark in his eye, "Fine then, we'll call it team building."
Raphael scoffs, "No. That's worse."
And as the four bicker good-naturedly Splinter knows they will find peace, as surely as he knows the love that binds them. However much healing Raphael needs, he will not do it alone. His family would not let him if he tried.
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