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chichirichick · 3 years

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SoMa Week Day 3: Protect

I may have gone a little crazy with this one... it's sort of a lyric fic inspired by @macabremermaid sending me awesome playlists for my other fics.

Check out my @soulxmakaweek entry for Day 3 on ff.net, ao3, or after the cut! Also, feel free to listen to the playlist on repeat 😘

"What the hell is this?"

There were never more dreadful words strung together, but the fact that Maka was shouting them as she was unceremoniously plopping onto his stomach while he was lying on the couch added a blistering wave of anxiety to them. As Soul realized it was in fact his laptop in her hands, the utter panic was compounded as his heart threatened to entirely spew from his chest.

Had he perhaps left a porn tab open?

Had she opened his email and saw how much money he actually spent on the new sound system that he bought for the living room?

Had she found the chat logs between him and Liz where she dogged him day in and day out about the uncomfortable reality of his feelings for his meister?

"Soul, seriously- KPop?"

I wish it was the porn, he cursed out at the universe.

"Because I go to YouTube to find a video on how to fix-"

"Why are you on my laptop though?" He finally managed to squeak, even though that was most definitely not even close to raging; it was just the poor, pathetic squeal of a man entirely metaphorically stripped.

"Mine needs to charge," she spat back as if that was a stupid question in the first place. "Going back to my point- I open it up and on the top of your playlists is this one: Mix0903. Which is filled with Korean boy bands." She leveled her eyes at him with the playful accusation. "Does that mean you have nine hundred and two other mixes of Korean pop music or are the others at least filled with the snooty music you've led us all to believe you actually like? I think Miles Davis would be rolling over in his grave-"

"Give me that!" Soul finally let some of his panic feed action rather than frozen fear as he sat up and grabbed for the laptop. Regardless of the implications, part of him wished for it to take a skyrocketing, crashing fall, shattering to bits just as his coolness had moments prior, but Maka had an iron grip on the machine. The only thing his movements earned him was Maka settling in his lap, leaning as far forward as she could manage with arms outstretched to keep the laptop from his grasp.

Yes, this position was in no way, shape, or form comfortable as her ass ground into his crotch, but at least Soul's body was more involved with the hysterics of her hitting play, of that stupid first song starting the emotional rollercoaster that he sat on at least once a week.

"BTS, Soul, seriously," Maka teased through twittering giggles. "Dimple? Do you know the dance for this? Please, please, tell me you do!"

"There's no dance," he groaned as he attempted to wrap an arm around her waist, hugging her closer so that his other hand could hopefully stretch far enough to the spacebar to at least stop the torture. Instead, he was left cursing Maka's flexibility, the tuck of her waist still leaving it out of his grasp.

"OK, OK, next!" Maka clicked a button. "Who's WOODZ?"

"You wouldn't know 'im," Soul grumbled.

"Ugh, even with K-Pop you're an insufferable hipster. You wouldn't know him, he's so underground," she added as she put on her best Soul impression.

He sucked his teeth as he heard the click again.

"OK, Shinee's a classic, Soul," Maka interrupted herself for laughter again. "But this one's a little creepy, isn't it? With all my body baby- I'll crash into you- So that I can feel- Every little thing with you."

Soul huffed.

Another click.

"VIXX?" Peels of laughter left her again. "Oh, and look at the collars, Soul! Are you serious? Is that going to be a new fashion look for you?"

As if I need more jokes from Black Star about bein' on a leash, Soul sighed.

Another click. "Worship U?"

This was spiraling out of control and Soul's only hope with the insufferable length of her reach was to let his head fall in defeat between her shoulder blades.

"If you think giving up already is going to save you from teasing…" Maka started but the words trailed off, overwhelmed by the song.

"I won't stop, never

Until the end of my life

Don't stop forever

Without wavering like this

Now don't worry, worry, worry

I will protect you-"

The line cut off quickly as Maka clicked again.

Soul's hand tensed around her wrist.

"BTS again." She was trying to laugh but it came out a little too breathy.

"Why is it so dark when you're not here

It's dangerous how wrecked I am

Save me because I can't get a grip on myself"

The arm around her waist pulled, and Maka allowed her back to curl into his chest, the laptop now well within his reach. He moved his head to hover just over her shoulder, eyes on the screen. Instead of grasping for it, his hands were busy on her skin, trying to hold her as much as he was holding the words he'd listened to a million times.

Another click.

"Even though I like you, nobody knows

Even when I see other girls, nobody's like you

I'm sorry for having no courage

You can laugh at me all you want

I'm a loser who loves you

Yes, I'm a misery

To you, I'm a nuisance, I'm an outsider

But in this world, I only need you"

"Don't know why you'd listen to that," Maka murmured. "You're such a cool guy, right?"

Soul couldn't help but feel the sting of it, even if her voice was warbly and barely above a breath.

Another click.

"I won't ever let you go again

I'll hold you, we'll be together forever

I'll cover your beautiful eyes so you won't go anywhere

I'll trap you inside of me"

Say it, Soul wanted to spit out the venom from between his teeth. It's possessive. It's awful. It's too much. That's what it feels like sometimes. Too much. It's selfish.

Instead, in the silence that came with the song cutting off, he got one more click.

"It's the last one."

"After that," he barely squeezed out the words as he pressed his face into her hair, "you gonna leave me alone?"

"If a shadow covers your light

I can't see

I get confused again

It's not like me

But you still smile for me

It's you

Will I be able to protect you?

I'm afraid"

"That was…" Maka forced a long, slow breath. "Soul, it wasn't your nine-hundred-and-third playlist, was it?"

He let out a weak laugh as he started to loosen his hold on her, his hand trying to slip away.

"September third." Maka grabbed his hand on retreat, tangling his fingers with hers. "The day we met, right?"

"Yeah," he muttered.

"And I- I actually have a dimple?"

Soul cleared his throat. "Sorta."

"Sorta," Maka echoed. Suddenly her fingers were clacking on the keyboard, hitting the enter with extra vigor. "I don't have a list, but listen."

"How much time

are you gonna spend worrying? question

I'm preparing to go to war

with the things that bother you, yes sir

My mood changes according to yours

I get so mad when I see you sad

Like a wave crashing on sand, erase it all

Your worries are no more, now only happy days are left"

Maka pushed the laptop forward and out of her hands, the song still trickling along to the chorus as she turned her head over her shoulder. "So, are you going to look at me?"

Soul leaned, letting his eyes meet hers with a searching stare.

"You always protect me." She shook her head softly, tossing his ridiculous worry aside. "And I doubt GOT7 had the kind of protection you offer in mind when they wrote that song." Maka tapped her knuckle below his shoulder where his shirt hid that blaring white scar. "You shouldn't listen to some playlist of boy bands mourning how they can't have the girl they love or they're afraid about treating her right when you do." Green eyes hit his, a plea from them, her soul, and her mouth hitting him in the face, "Tell me you do."

"That I…?"

"Stop worrying, and tell me," Maka murmured, saturated in her own fears even as she was asking him to throw away his.

"It's not just…" He sighed as he flexed his fingers in hers. "It's not just because we're meister and weapon, Maka, it's not-"

"I know," she pressed. "Can you just channel their energy for just one second and be cute and romantic?"

Soul's eyebrows shot up. "But, I-"

"Am bad at this," Maka sighed. "Fine. Soul Evans, if you can't put it into words can you at least-?"

He quickly pressed his lips to her cheek, derailing the rest of her thought entirely. Before his lips had even disengaged, Soul was squeezing his eyes shut, ready for the standard Maka-chop to clobber him into next week. When it didn't come, he knocked his forehead against her shoulder, turning his face to rest it against the warmth of her neck.

Maka reached up awkwardly to run her fingers over his hair, letting out a sweet sigh in the process. "That'll work." She giggled to herself as she reached for the laptop again. "But I want a new playlist. It's better when we make music together, right?"

#soulxmakaweek #SoMaweek2021 #SoMa #Soul Eater #KPop

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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years

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Story about something crashing on little Sammy parents farm. Maybe the government comes and forces them out for a while to collect it?👽

Warning for disturbing imagery and dead animals!

Summary: Joey Drew Studio is snowed in, so while everyone tries to keep warm for the night they end up reminiscing about the oddest things they had ever experienced. Sammy ends up recalling a rather bizarre event from his childhood.

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[[MORE]]

"I'm sorry to impose so much Mrs. Harrison. I trust Abigail will behave, she's a little angel I assure you." Sammy fidgeted with the phone chord nervously as he listened to his elderly neighbor. "Yes, yes thank you... Oh certainly! Let her on so I can wish her a good night..."

Susie watched as the tired look on the music director's face melted away to welcome a gentler smile. She could sort of hear a child's voice on the line (his little sister that he'd mentioned a few times). It was quite endearing to see Sammy with such a calm and content expression instead of the usual grumpy scrawl that scared half the band into submission.

"Good night Abby, be good to Mrs. Harrison." The call was coming to a close. "I love you too."

Susie smiled at him and nodded, taking her turn to call home now that he was finished.

"Wally is heating up soup in the break room. The stove's thankfully working." She called after him as she dialed the number.

"Everyone camping out there?" He asked as he looked back at the voice actress.

"Everyone but Joey, that devil of a man actually has an insulated office... The rest of us are sleeping by the stove." She sighed "Thankfully Norman and Grant thought ahead and brought a few blankets to stay warm."

Clever thinking and also a necessity, as Grant's office was very drafty, and Norman's booth got cold from the pipework frosting over a bit (since the music department had been a repurposed bathroom) in cold weather. Mr. Cohen also knew the likelyhood of Joey having paid the heating bill. Slim to none.

"Great... Just what I wanted, to sleep in a stuffy room full of people and the smell of that rancid soup..." A soup he'd enjoyed at first (due to it reminding him of his father's cauliflower soup which had little bits of bacon in it), but which had lost its luster on the third week of being asked to take a few cans home. Abby hated the stuff so he'd had to eat it himself. "Don't you just love getting snowed in?"

"Only when I was a child. The snow usually meant no classes." Susie finished dialing and waited for her mother to answer.

He left her alone to go back into the break room where Wally and Norman were passing around bowls of soup. Grant greeted him with a blanket, which he graciously took. The damn studio was absolutely freezing in November. The freak snowstorm hadn't helped.

Honestly he'd loved the look of a snowy New York when he'd first moved here with his father. It had looked beautiful and new, almost magical, unlike the ranch he'd grown up in until he was 11. Looking back now, he missed the expanse of snowy fields instead of the cold streets. He also missed watching a few of the animals play in the snow.

Getting stuck in the studio made him a little nostalgic.

"Here ya go Sammy!" Wally passed him a bowl of soup, which he nearly dropped in surprise, and grinned "It ain't my ma's beef stew and it definitely lacks a spoon since we don't got that many of those to begin with, but at least it'll keep you warm from the inside!"

"I, yes at least that." He sniffed it and grimaced. Pork grease and chunky bits that definitely were less bacon and more cartilage. "You ever wonder how they made this slop?"

"I'd rather not think about it. It's like hot dogs ya know... The less you know about it, the better they are!" The janitor shrugged and went to sit on one of the chairs closer to the stove. Everyone was very much huddled close by, swaddled in shared blankets, rubbing their hands together to keep them warm, or drinking soup.

Norman nodded at the music director once he sat down to join the group. Not too long after Susie was sitting beside him, and he offered to share his blanket with her.

"So, what do we do now?" Wally asked as he looked around. The issue would be sorted in the morning but it was still only a quarter to eleven and no one was particularly keen on sleeping just yet.

"I'll tell ya what we could do!" Shawn called out from his spot, voice slightly muffled by his big red scarf. "I say we pass t'time by indulging in the ye old grand art that is story tellin'!"

"Story telling? What, like a sleepover?" Jack questioned. Sammy found it amusing that he'd swaddled himself in his blanket in a way that pressed his hair tight against his skull, to the point where it looked like a makeshift scarf and ear mitts. "Like when we were little kids?"

"Well we're all sleepin' here t'night aren't we? And ya don't need t'be wee little ankle biters t'go tellin' stories." Shawn huffed "Besides, what better way t'know yer co-workers than share some harrowin' tales? I sure got a few that'll intrigue you folks I'm sure."

"Is it about potatoes?" One of the art department workers asked, only to get a slap on the back of the head and an elbow to the ribs.

"Very funny, that muppet over there's a real comedian coddin like that..." The Irishman rolled his eyes. "Right, you folk ever hear 'bout the legend o'the banshee?"

Everyone gave him a peculiar look, which Shawn took as permission to carry on.

"The tale varies some dependin' on t'person who tells ya. But the way me ma told it to me was somethin' like this: The banshee is a sweet singin' virgin, pretty as a button, a real feek." He tapped his chin thoughtfully as he recalled his mother's words. "Sometimes she has long black hair, other times it's a bright red like fire. Always pale... But don't be thinkin' she's just some little lady, oh no. The banshee is a spirit, one that heralds death in the family. Her ghastly cries precede the death o'loved ones and fill ya with a mighty chill o'dread... And I saw one when I was just a wee lad."

"Ya saw... A ghost?" Lacie wrinkled her nose. "And ya sure it wasn't some regular girl you just saw?"

"Couldn't o'been. She was right outside the window Lacie. And me room was on the second floor..." Shawn shook his head "And I knew it had to o'been a banshee. She looked just like me cousin, who died o'the shakes a few months prior. My pa always did say she might come back as the household haunt, she wasn't ready t'leave just yet."

"So, that's it? You saw some apparitions at your window and think it was some folklore horror?" Sammy rolled his eyes.

"Yep. An' then in the morning me grandpa was dead. Dreadful song she went and had t'sing. I was just 5 too! T'damn beour coulda gone bother me brother instead... He was t'one that used to scare us wee lads with these tales o'ghosts n' ghoulies..."

Well, that wasn't a very nice story. And it likely had a reasonable explanation behind it too. Just a small child frightened by tales and likely still coming to terms with losing a cousin.

"Oh, that's nothin'!" Wally grinned. "Ghost stories aren't anythin' compared to what I found in a ditch when I was 8!"

"Oh yeah? Then enlighten us, oh scare Meister!" Shawn barked back, glaring slightly. "What coulda been worse than a banshee?"

"How about a maneater?" The janitor offered.

Shawn fell quiet and others began to whisper among each other at the claim, before Norman began to hush everyone.

"Go on then... Yous can't just say that an' not tell us."

"Oh man, it was the dang scariest thing I'd seen as a kid!" Wally grinned. "Us tykes from Brooklyn? We didn't grow up with monster stories and such. Our mas and pas told us about kidnappers and murderers instead, cuzz those are like, real dangers you know?"

He took a sip from his cooling bowl of soup, before clearing his throat.

"But you know what kids are like. They like adventure and don't really listen too much cuzz, you only believe it when you see it!" He carried on. "Me? I was with a couple a pals exploring this old ditch that had some neat stuff people used to throw in there. Busted watches, trinkets, sometimes a lost wallet with a little bit of cash in it...Well that day there wasn't just goodies."

Sammy sipped his own soup and felt Susie's arm brush up against his as she got on the edge of her seat. She was excited to hear wherever Wally's story was going.

"Local news had like, been going on about this one loon that had run off from the big house or somethin'. Some big mug who was a pervert or whatever. Adult stuff we kids didn't care for." Wally looked around as he spoke. "Only he wasn't no pervert, just really messed in the head. A cannibal. A cannibal that liked eating little tots. You know, stories like Little Johnny went pokin' around where he shouldn't and now there was no Little Johnny no more? Yeah that nearly was us."

"You found the guy in the ditch?" Sammy guessed.

"Nope! Found my neighbor, Sally, partially eaten and all kinds o' messed up." Wally replied "I figured we were in trouble so we ran like our butts were on fire and screamed the whole way back. Coppers caught the fucker and his picture on the paper still gives me nightmares. If we'd found him instead, we woulda ended up like Sally!"

Everyone looked extremely disturbed at the thought of a couple of 8 year olds finding another child's partially eaten corpse.

"Shite... No wonder yer such a mog. Brooklyn's fucked up!" Shawn winced.

"Hey!" Wally pouted.

"Also your story was misleading. You didn't actually encounter the "maneater"." Sammy pointed out. "That's not how you should advertise a tale you twit."

"Would ya rather I have found the creep that did it?"

"No, next time just don't make it sound like an actual encounter when it's an anecdote about another outcome entirely."

"Don't go bein' an ass Lawrence." Norman called out. "I thought the story was good. Messed up, but good... Granted it don't top what I experienced when I was still in the cradle."

"Oh, this ought to be good." The blond smirked. "Word of mouth?"

"My Nanna never told no lie. Yous won't find a more honest lady." Norman smirked back.

At this point everyone had finished their soup and was practically laying or leaning against one another for warmth. It helped that the story telling atmosphere had all but made everyone forget about the cold.

Norman being so tall and obscuring the stove ever so slightly, cast strange shadows on the wall.

"Now, this happened a few months after I was born. My Nanna was lookin' after me while my mama and memaw was helpin' my pops and pepaw out in the cotton fields. My brother and sister wasn't that much older either, not yet ready to go pickin', so they was in their room playin' together." He leaned back in his chair, a content smile on his face "Nanna was just preparin' lunch while I was layin' in this big ol' basket full o' pillows and blankets, just sleepin' away like babies do. She turned 'round to chop up some carrots when she had this weird feelin' all of a sudden."

Sammy put an arm around Susie as he listened. Norman was a pretty good story teller. Had this voice that just pulled you in. He could almost imagine a little chubby baby in a basket while an old lady prepared food in the kitchen.

"Nanna Polk always had a feel for when things were no good all of a sudden. She'd known when Poppop weren't doing well in the head, and she knew how to pop a shot into a big gator when it got too close to the house. She wasn't afraid o'nothin'." Norman carried on. "But she was afraid. She was afraid when the blade o'her knife caught the reflection o'this big brute pullin' my basket out the window."

Sammy winces and Susie tightened her grip on his arm. The others were quite aghast as well, at the thought of an innocent little babe getting snatched away by some stranger.

"Nanna didn't scream. She didn't wanna scare my siblings you see... Instead she tiptoed towards the backdoor, knife in hand, and kept outta sight o'the man that was tryin' to take me away." Norman hummed as he thought back on what Nanna had told him. "You know, they often tell ya 'bout southern hospitality. If yous is friendly and respectful, yous always got a friend. They don't tell yous about Louisiana ladies like my sweet Nanna tho... They is forged of iron and grief. Strong and protective o'their youngins... She knew what that man wanted from me, an' she wasn't bout to let it happen."

"What did she do?" Wally asked, bitting his knuckles as he put his legs up to his chest.

"Put the knife through his back. She pushed him so he wouldn't go an' fall on me, oh 'course, and that basket well about saved my life cuzz it was damn well padded and didn't so much as wake me when it hit the ground."

"Holy shit..."

"Now, that might sound a little extreme to yous, but I trust Nanna's judgement." Norman began once he noticed the horrified looks on his coworker's faces. "That man woulda taken me somewhere no one could'a gotten me from, an' she wasn't 'bout to lose anyone else to them creeps. Nanna was smart, and Nanna was hard workin'. She buried the bastard where he fell, an' planted a tree t'remember it too. I got to put a swing on it when it grew big enough to support the weight."

"Where were they going to take you?" Sammy finally asked, once he realized no one would do so. "The man?"

"Hm, well I don't know exactly. But she did say it was where my Poppop grew up, so I know it wasn't a good place." Norman frowned. "They did bad things to him, made him messed up in the head an' dangerous. Nanna saved me from endin' up the same way... Don't care if it wasn't the right way t'do it, them folks don't deserve no pity if they go stealin' babies from their cribs t'do god only knows what."

"Well... For what is worth, we're glad your nanna saved you Norman. You're a gem." Susie smiled which got the much larger man to chuckle.

"How's that for a story then? Anyone steppin' up to top it off?"

No one seemed to have anything that quite matched the energy of this... What should he call it? Cultist kidnapping story? It certainly sounded that the man was some underground cultist if he was taking babies to indoctrinate, or whatever...

The blond watched, saw no one step up to the challenge, and then remembered.

"Well, it may not be as bad as getting snatched away. But I do recall a rather peculiar set of events from before I moved to New York with my father." He began, the band members snorting and whispering among themselves that it was probably something stupid. He glared their way before looking at Norman who gestured for him to go on.

"Floor's all yours Sammy."

"Right." He thought back, way back when he was 10. Just a year prior to his mother's death. It was all a little foggy but the more he concentrated on what his father had told him about that night, the less his explanation made sense once correlated with his own memories. "I didn't exactly grow up in the city. Not until I was 11 that is... I actually lived in a cattle ranch for a while."

"That explains why you call us sheep." Johnny laughed.

"No, I call you sheep because your job is to follow me, you damn goat." Sammy snarled back at the interrupting organist.

"Ouch." Jack winced.

"Either way, as a child living with a father who raised cattle for a living, one can expect that I was often tasked to help with a few of the animals. Mainly cleaning the pens and, if I was particularly lucky, shearing the sheep." The sheep, he confesses, had been his favourite. They were dumb and cute. "My father usually dealt with the larger animals. When this event occured, he'd just bought a big healthy heifer. His ornery old bull had covered our best breeding cow but she'd not been having calves."

"Was she called Bessie?" Wally grinned.

"The name of the cow isn't of importance!" Sammy rolled his eyes. "It was Felicity by the way."

"My mistake."

"Either way, my father was a breeder, so his breeding female not producing offsprings was a big deal. I was a kid so I wasn't particularly interested if Felicity had issues, I just liked watching her when she had little calves. They were the cutest thing right after the baby lambs." Sammy carried on "The new heifer, Clarabelle, arrived that day and immediately the bull was put to working. My father thought That'd be the end of his problems... An easy fix. Except it wasn't..."

"She sterile?" Norman asked.

"Oh I wish that had been it. I was 10, had seen animals in plenty of states from sickness or wild animal attacks. But never had I seen a cow turned inside out, other than in a damn butcher's..." Sammy shuddered. He could still remember it... Going outside to get the eggs like his father had asked, and just finding this massive dead heifer with no skin on her body. His mother had said he'd screamed like the devil himself had been before him.

"Oh god..." Susie gagged slightly. "That couldn't have been nice..."

"It wasn't. I was freaked out and my father was furious. Clarabelle had been an expensive purchase. And she wasn't the only casualty." Sammy shook his head. "The pen was wrecked, the bull was in better state but no less dead, and poor Felicity must have run into whatever butchered them both because she had a massive wound on her hind. Every animal was spooked out of their minds and even our sheepdog wouldn't come out of the house. Peed himself when we tried coaxing him."

"Did ya find what did it?" Shawn asked.

"No, we couldn't find anything that explained it." Sammy carried on. "No tracks, no trails of blood, nothing. The pen was just ruined, like it had been splintered apart, and Clarabelle looked to have just... I don't know how to explain it. Pop? Like a balloon?"

"I figure your father wasn't too keen on going' about business after that?"

"He wanted compensation, but you can't exactly put the blame on anything if you can't even find a cause." The music director sighed "We eventually just decided to call it quits on figuring out what the hell happened and went on with our lives. But then things just got... Weird."

Strange lights at night, bizarre noises, and horrific night terrors. Sammy's father had lost his patience when he'd found their dog's remains and called the authorities.

"We were all on edge, unsure what was going on at the ranch, and losing animals every night. My father called the cops, saying someone must be playing some seriously messed up joke to terrorize us. He'd made a lot of enemies with his attitude over the years, so I wouldn't have been surprised..." He trailed of, beginning to feel goosebumps as he recalled the final night of these strange occurances. "And then one night I saw something strange out of my window. Stranger than anything else."

Everyone was eager for the conclusion, he could tell. Taking a deep breath, he recounted what he'd been a witness to.

"I wasn't sleeping well, no one was, but I just couldn't settle in bed that night. It felt too warm in my room so I got up to open a window." His 10 year old self had always struggled with the latch on his window, but not that night. That night it opened without a fuss. "I saw... A figure. Out in the fields. Cast in weird green light that I couldn't put a source to. They were tall, and I couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman, but I assumed man because there wasn't a hair on its head... I just stared, and it looked to be staring back. Next thing I know, I'm outside in my pajamas, staring up at this pitch black figure... Taller, imposing, faceless. No eyes, no nose, no mouth... And yet it felt like it was glaring hatefully at me. Frustrated, angry... It pointed at the woods and I don't... I don't know what it wanted and I was just a scared kid."

He gulped heavily as he recalled how oppressive everything had felt.

"Again I blacked out, but this time awoke inside to my mother fanning me. My dad was yelling at the cops and it was morning." Sammy frowns "Yelling at them to get that damn thing off his property, and to fuck right off since they were so useless at their damn job."

A soft amen from a member of the writer's department. Followed by a chuckle from another one.

"My throat was raw, and when I tried to ask what happened, my mom told me they'd found me outside at the edge of the woods, screaming until my voice went. Screaming about wanting out of the woods. Screaming about wanting to go home... Screaming that nothing here was good to eat and that I was going to die... I don't recall doing it, and my father said I'd probably had a nightmare of some kind. A fever dream even, since mom had been trying to cool me down for a good reason." He bit his lip "It's odd, I'd just fallen ill overnight and everything was fuzzy... I asked why the cops were here, and my father said when he'd gone to get me he'd spotted a weather balloon of some kind in the woods. The cops were there to take it away."

Everyone stared, confused and trying to figure out how these events connected. He gave them a shrug.

"I have no idea what was going on, so don't ask. I was 10, animals were dying weirdly, and I got so sick all of a sudden that I started sleep walking and hallucinating demonic figures. No one ever said anything about the weather balloon in the local paper either, so I don't even know what to think of that." He leaned against Susie "It was weird, but it stopped. Still that thing kept appearing in my nightmares for a while... It faded with time but it bothered me while it was still fresh in my mind."

"Sounds like aliens." Wally pips up.

"No such thing." Bertrum laughed at the suggestion. "Just a bunch of vandalism, fallen governament property, animal attacks, and a child's overactive imagination."

"No, I'm serious! Stuff like that happens in farms all the time! Stuff no one can explain..."

"Wally, there's tons o' things none can explain in this world already." Norman pointed out. "I'm not sure what sorta thing Sammy might o' stumbled upon as a kid... But little green men don't sound plausible."

"Oh come on, ain't it obvious? Cows gettin' killed, the strange damages? The fallen thing in the woods? The spooky figure? The one person who no one would believe being chosen to see the alien? Then the cops just swoopin' in and covering it up? Happened just the same to my uncle Paul!"

"What I saw wasn't little or green. Don't make it another one of your outlandish tall tales." Sammy grinned, enjoying how much Wally was puffing up.

"Bite your tongue! It ain't a tall tale!"

"Sure it's not."

"Boys don't fight... Because I've got one heck of a story that'll make Norman's and Sammy's feel like child's play!" Susie cut in, with a devilish grin of her own.

And so the night carried on, with more stories to be shared. All the while Sammy laughed and listened, content with the situation.

Although... He did still wonder what he'd seen out in the field. Surely it couldn't have been extraterrestrial.

Hm... Yes, surely not. Just a bad dream and some sick prank. Had to have been.

#Eps Writes:#Bendy and the Ink Machine #BATIM

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snorlaxlovesme · 5 years

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SoMa Week 2019

Day 6: Hands

You know that hectic panic you get in when your mom is gonna be home in 20 minutes and you just remembered she had left a list of chores for you to do before she got back? This fic is like that. Except it's Soul with his arm stuck in the dishwasher.

This is a very serious SoMa Week fic.

“Alexa, record my last will and testament.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t know that one.”

Soul looks at the clock. Maka should be home any minute now, he thinks hopelessly, mostly because he had that exact thought 3 hours ago and he was wrong then, so who really knows when she’s going to be back? His neck is absolutely burning from being in this position, and his left arm has taken on a new feeling that’s hovering somewhere between the realm of “stabbing pain” and “complete paralysis.” He’s been sitting on the floor of their kitchen for so long that he’s starting to find shapes in the weird stains on their tile like some kind of fucked up Rorschach test. The one shaped like his mother’s disappointment in him might be blood from Maka’s cut from their last mission. He’s also discovered they have ants.

This all started out with good intentions. Kind of. Okay, no, it started off with Maka leaving him 300 passive aggressive sticky notes (she was the fucking queen of those) saying that if he didn’t start cleaning up their apartment she was going to dump him in the street like the lazy weapon he was and someone else could cook and clean after him. Which is not the Top Ten Most Romantic Ways for the love of your life to tell you to do chores, if you ask Soul. So yeah, maybe he waited until the day before Maka came back from her trip to see her mom to finally start cleaning. And yeah, sure, maybe he was getting kind of aggressive about how he was putting the dishes in the dishwasher. So what?

He’d never admit to Maka that he doesn’t know anything about their new dishwasher, but now he really doesn’t have a choice. When he was maniacally stacking dirty dishes before Maka’s plane landed, he managed to drop one of Maka’s metal chopsticks in between the racks and into the bottom of the dishwasher. He had considered just leaving it down there and hoping for the best, but with the literal signs all over his kitchen calling him LAZY WEAPON, he decided to do the right thing and retrieve it instead of leaving it down there to potentially destroy their new appliance.

Big mistake.

His arm is stuck and it fucking hurts.

He didn’t know the space in between the bottom rack and the water-propeller-thingy was so small, okay? His hand went in just fine! But once he got in up to his shoulder he knew he was fucked. He had the chopstick in hand, but his arm was bent in a position that left no room for wiggling out. And force did not seem like the best option when they just sunk $600 into this stupid fucking appliance. If Soul broke it, he’d never hear the end of it, for sure.

So Soul’s only option? Waiting for Maka to come save him. Pathetic.

He didn’t even have his phone on him when he trapped himself, so he’s been sitting on the kitchen floor for the past three hours (has it been hours? Days? Time has no meaning anymore) wondering if this is how he’s going to die. It’s hard to think of a more undignified way to go at the moment, but he’s sure it could be worse, right? At least his hand isn’t in the toilet.

A tickling on his ankle has him flinching aggressively. An ant has attempted to crawl up his pantleg. Soul pinches it between his fingers on his right hand and flicks it across the kitchen, only to belatedly realize it would have been better to just kill it. Now it has time to come back and tell all its ant friends that the kitchen is open for business and essentially unguarded. What can one boy do when 20% of his body is wedged inside of an over-priced dishwasher?

He tries again to morph his arm into a weapon, like maybe trying it now might be more successful than the 8 other times he’s attempted this solution. But Soul’s arm is bent at an angle that would absolutely destroy the dishwasher if he morphed it into a blade. Maka’s favorite “I closed my book to be here” mug is directly above his hand on the top rack and would for sure be shattered if he transformed. That would even worse than destroying the dishwasher, probably. His arm returns to miserable skin and bone.

“Alexa, play ‘The Funeral’ by Band of Horses’.”

“Here’s a sample of ‘The Funeral’ by Band of Horses. To play the full version, please purchase Amazon Unlimited Music by—”

“Alexa, stop.”

Soul’s pretty sure he’s dying.

The floor-stain shaped like the pain in his left arm has a gathering of ants around it. Maybe it’s spilled soda? Or maybe they’re all congregating to discuss how they plan on eating Soul’s body after he inevitably perishes? He tries to save himself and tamp on them with his foot, but shifting his body just sends shooting pain up his arm. He stills and grits his teeth. He’ll just have to wait for Death to take him.

Minutes later, hours later, years later, he hears the clicking of the lock to their front door, and Maka walks in with two large duffel bags in hand and her cell phone wedged between her shoulder and ear.

“Yeah, Mama, I made it home safely, I’m just gonna—Soul?”

He looks up at her with sad, sad eyes.

Maka gingerly sets down her bags. “Mama, I’m gonna have to call you back. Okay. Yeah. Bye.”

“Help,” he whines pathetically. No traces of coolness to be found in a situation like this.

She kneels next to where he lays, slouched on the tile. “What happened here?”

“I found out why I never do chores.”

She makes a face at him. “If you did chores more often, maybe you’d hurt yourself less. Practice makes perfect, you know.” She looks at his stuck arm with a morbid kind of wonder. “Wow, you’re really stuck in there. How long have you been sitting like this?”

“You were supposed to be here hours ago” is Soul’s only response, because fuck if he knows how long it’s been.

She runs her fingers through his messy hair. “Sorry, sorry, my layover got delayed and things got all hectic. I guess this explains why you weren’t answering your phone, too. Does it hurt?”

“Fuck yes. Can you get me out? Please?”

She gives him a little kiss on the cheek. “Yeah, let’s see here.” She moves him over a tad so she can see better (“sorry, sorry!” she shrieks as he groans) and discovers that not only is he mega-stuck, but there doesn’t seem to be a sensible way to bend his arm to free him.

“Okay then, we’ll just do this,” she says, and in one Superman-like motion she’s grabbing the bottom rack of dishes and straight-up ripping it off the track so Soul can pull his arm free. He about cries in relief, then from pain when finally puts his arm into a position that lets the blood flow back into it. His shoulder is so fucking stiff.

Maka sets the mangled rack onto their kitchen floor, apparently not giving a damn when the dishes still inside it clank together in a dangerously-close-to-shattering cacophony. She sits down beside him, digs her fingers into the crook of his neck, and starts massaging.

“I can’t believe you broke the dishwasher to get me out,” Soul says, rolling his eyes back a little because her hands feel so fucking good on his sore neck and shoulder.

“Well, I wasn’t just going to leave you stuck in there,” Maka says. “Plus, it’s under warrantee, so we can just get the people from the department store to come back and fix it in a few days.”

“WHAT?” Soul roars so loud that Maka jumps a little bit. “Are you saying that I just 127 Hours-ed myself for NOTHING because I could have just BROKEN IT TO BEGIN WITH??”

“Hey, don’t yell at me, Soul, just because you don’t listen when the people who install our appliances tell us about what we’re paying for!”

“I was stuck there for hours because I thought you’d be mad if I broke it!”

“When on earth did I imply during our five-year partnership that I liked a dishwasher more than I liked you in one piece?”

When she puts it like that, he does sound a little stupid. Or maybe she sounds a little sweet. Or maybe being trapped inside a dishwasher for half a day is just distorting his view of reality. He needs to get up off the floor, like now.

He stands up, popping his spine in like nine different places and offers her his hand to help her up too. When he reaches down, the metal chopstick that has been trapped in his raccoon-like grip finally slips between his fingers.

It falls on the floor and bounces before rolling away, and Maka scoots to go retrieve it.

“Is this what you were trying to grab when you got stuck?” she asks. “These don’t even go in the dishwasher, Soul. You handwash them.”

Soul swears his vision whites out for a moment. He can’t even dignify that statement with a response because he’ll probably live to regret whatever comes out of his mouth next. Besides, all’s well that ends well, right? He got the chopstick, he didn’t technically break the dishwasher, and his meister is home and happy. So it was all worth it in the end, right?

Maka finally slaps her hand on the runaway chopstick, shouting a dorky little “a-ha!” Her hand lands near a floor-spot that looks like a wonky heart.

Soul sighs. He’d probably do it again, for her, if it came down to it. He squats down beside her and plants a kiss on her unsuspecting cheek.

“Missed you while you were gone,” he tells her, because it’s worth saying.

She smiles warmly at him and leans in to give him a proper kiss. She doesn’t make it all the way there, because suddenly she’s jumping a foot in the air with a yelp, coming close to headbutting him in the nose. Maka looks down at where her hand rests on the floor, where a small black insect is skittering across her knuckle. Soul watches in horror as her eyes zero in on 10 of its closest friends a few feet away on the floor.

There’s the briefest moment of silence as she ponders what she’s looking at. The calm before the storm. Then:

“Are those ANTS?”

She whips around to face him, but Soul’s already gone. He can still hear her shouting from down the hall. “Soul, I told you to MOP while I was gone!!”

His shoulder twinges painfully as he slams the door shut to his room. He thinks he’ll just live with the sticky notes for this one.

#soma week 2019 #soma week #soma #soul x maka #soul eater evans #maka albarn #soul eater #se fic #*throws garbage into the wind* i havent posted writing in ages so LETS START WITH THIS #my writing

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underthewellie · 5 years

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Some more TsuStar

~Dancer~

Part 1

*I am not ashamed people! I just re-read the manga for the thousandth time so like, my ships are fresh again. Anyways, as usual, takes place after end of manga. One-Shot, cuz I can*

—————————————————————

It was just a simple party, in honor of Kid’s new status as Shinigami. Well, he always was one but it’s definitely for sure now. It was supposed to be a small get together in DWMA, just the same friends from Stein’s old class but all of a sudden, word spread, and it became this massive festival. Maka seemed a little bothered by the fact but once they stepped inside the familiar checkered-floored room, covered in brilliant lights—giving it a dark yet mystical glow—no one could complain. They were all swayed by the music and by the nostalgia, and, particularly two people were very ‘swayed’ by the food.

She finally got BlackStar fitted into a good suit and it took all night just to make sure he didn’t go off and ruin it. It seems to work well for him, not that he notices, but plenty of girls were swooning after him. It was truly a good fit and it revealed the strength in his body, perfected and grown over the past year. Girls really seemed to like the “warrior” type of man, passionate and a bit oblivious. She’s sure once they saw him engulfing an entire plate, Patty at his side, they would no longer think the same of him. Tsubaki knows the truth though. That’s her partner.

The man singing, a stranger with a curled mustache and a purple suit, waves his arms in the air, everyone turns to look at him. The music pauses and breathlessly, he yells, although rather excitedly, “Weapons and Meisters, get together and dance with your partners!!”

Everyone laughed at first. But soon, when the singer seemed on the verge of tears, the idea wasn’t so uncustomary. Shrugging, in his usual nonchalant way, Soul suggested Maka dance with him. When she pouted and refused, lightly, he gave her that same smirk and said, “Of course, cuz you got two left feet.”

Her defiant and stubborn personality was easily manipulated. All of a sudden, meisters and weapons were dancing together. Tsubaki, a bit lost on what to do, decided to simply watch, with a happy smile. Beside her, three forms whisked by. They paused, turning towards her.

“Tsubaki, you aren’t dancing?” Liz wore a similar suit to her sibling while Kid still adorned the cloak left by his father, however the mask was elsewhere. Patty is already swaying to the music, in her giggly, unique way. It’s nice to see everyone so happy and peaceful. Her smile widens.

Kid chuckles, “With a partner like BlackStar, I doubt he’s much of an elegant dancer. He’s still scarfing down food over there.”

They all share a soft glance behind Tsubaki. At the table she awaits by, BlackStar is monstrously consuming what is left on the designated platters. He seems happy enough. Besides, with all the training he does, it’s no wonder he has such an appetite. That’s why Tsubaki is always sure to cook him the best meals.

Their partnership has become comfortable since the fight on the moon. She’ll still scold him for sneaking into places she bathes but even then, she isn’t unused to him seeing her breasts, or even her naked body. He’s seen it all and she’ll only scold him on principle but really, she doesn’t have as much an issue with it anymore. Maybe she’s too comfortable, being that they aren’t dating but...she puts that thought out of her mind. What can she do about it?

Liz sighs, “Tsubaki, you should dance with one cute guy tonight. You look so pretty! Besides, with BlackStar eating the whole buffet, you’ll have time to be with someone else.”

She doesn’t really want to be with someone else, the whole idea unsettles her. Still, she smiles kindly, “No, it’s alright. Besides,” she leans forward, her hand moving through her hair a bit nervously, “BlackStar likes to dance but he isn’t much of a ballroom dancer—“

“Hey! I can dance as well as the next guy!”

She squeaks as he appears at her side, his face a filthy mess. Kid grows pale with the sight and Tsubaki quickly takes the napkin she folded earlier into his shirt and wipes his face. He pays the action no mind but Liz and Patty laugh.

“BlackStar, we’ve never seen you actually waltz once in your life. Tsubaki would probably be leading you the entire way!”

That gets a rise out of her meister. He stands tall, his chest puffing, “What! I can dance better than everyone out there! Watch me! Tsubaki, lets go!”

She flinches and almost believes that she should turn into her weapon form. She’s so used to him simply calling her name and that being enough communication between them. She always knows what he needs of her and she always performs to the best of her ability.

She’s dragged to the dance floor and she can see him clenching his jaw. She tries to be soothing but when it comes to boasting and showing everyone he’s the best, BlackStar doesn’t back down.

He stops in the middle of the floor, where everyone is already swaying comfortable with their partners. He glances around, stubbornly, and lifts his hands, even a bit awkwardly towards her. He doesn’t meet her gaze for a moment, scanning everyone else still. Tsubaki chuckles and it makes him look up at her, a bit embarrassed.

“Here, let me help you,” she guides his hands towards the appropriate places on her body. He doesn’t seem very taken aback but it’s true, he’s never danced like this before. But he’s far too stubborn to admit that. She’s unaccustomed to dancing with him like this at all, much less when he feels older and mature. As mature as this goof ball can get though. His fight with Mifune definitely changed him. Granting her brother’s wish, was a big step in her admiration and love for him. Love him, of course she does, he’s her partner and more importantly, now he’s apart of her family.

“This is stupid, if I can’t do this then it isn’t even worthy of being a skill I should have,” he grumbles it, in his usual annoyance. She tilts her head, smiling.

“Don’t get upset. It’s really easy. Let me show you.”

His cheeks tinge pink for a moment as he allows her this one bit of dominance. Of all things BlackStar is, he definitely isn’t dumb. At least, not when it comes to learning physical things. He’s always been a fast learner and she expects him to take up the steps to the dance rather quickly. To her surprise, he doesn’t.

He stumbles uncomfortably and she can see the strain he’s putting in, the effort in his burning gaze as he tries to elegantly move. She laughs and that makes him even more frustrated.

“Enough! Let me lead!”

She blinks and she squeaks as his grip on her tightens. Maybe she has to remind him that she’s a person and not a weapon at the moment, but, seeing him try so hard, she can’t help but allow him to simply be himself. He’s definitely stronger. Even she would swoon after him if she didnt know so much about it him. He once called her the stars in the dark sky and she teased him, admitting she believed he was both the stars and dark sky combined. He takes compliments boisterously but in that moment, of him being pensive and mature, he seemed flustered by her words.

She laughs at the memory now and hearing that, he scoffs, pulling her close to him, “Come on Tsubaki,”

She tries to follow his footsteps but he’s doing it all wrong, he isn’t even going to the beat anymore. At one point, he tries to spin her and fails miserably, resulting in her stumbling against him and his shoe stepping down on her toe.

“Ow!” She cries, leaning away from him. She can see the flush of color rising in his face. She shakes her head, sliding her feet back from him, “You know BlackStar, we don’t have to dance at all. Let’s just wait until the song is over.”

He pauses, his eyes flickering between hers and she can’t really distinguish, in the soft warmth of the lights around the room, how he feels. He extends his hand, jutting it harshly forward between them, “No, so you can go dance with some other guy? No way. I can do this, I’m the best!”

She sighs under her breath. He really can’t let things go. And what was that about some other guy. Maybe the food got to his head. She isn’t one to deny him though, so she gingerly places her hand in his. He tugs her unceremoniously forward, and she staggers into his arms. One slides in against her waist, the other towards her shoulder. At least he’s grown a bit taller so his face is no longer right at her breasts. That would be embarrassing because her dress is revealing a bit much of her assets. Not that she can help it. Or really wants to.

He tries again to move to the music, mumbling each movement beneath his breath, counting them out. He does well for the first part and then when they turn, she can tell he’s gotten all jumbled. His eyebrows furrow and he makes the mistake of looking down at their feet.

“Oh, look up, BlackStar,”

It makes his head whip upwards and that disorients him. He steps on her foot again and she cringes, this time, her eyes even watering. Why does he put so much force into stepping down? Maybe that’s why he’s been struggling? This time though, her toes really ache and she has to peel back from him. She shakes her head and looks around the heads of all their friends, searching for a seat, “I think I need to sit BlackStar.”

He shakes his head, adamantly, “Wait, Tsubaki, the song isn’t finished yet! I have to show everyone—“

She frowns, lifting her foot in the air but her shoes won’t allow her to wiggle her toes, “Sorry BlackStar but my feet hurt.” She turns away from him and she feels terrible for doing so. She isn’t one to ever deny him from getting his way or proving himself. This time though, she isn’t in weapon form and he stepped down on her toes so hard, she fears he could have bruised them. She really does like to dance but she can manage to refuse him for just one night.

She takes a seat and pops her heel off, frowning down at her toes. Just a bit red and sore but nothing serious. She leans back against the table, sighing in relief.

—————————————————————

He crosses his arms in annoyance.

‘What does Tsubaki know. I can dance.’

He thinks, his fingers squeezing his biceps. After being refused from his partner, he can’t help but feel a bit frustrated that he hadn’t been able to master the goddamn dance, nor prove to his friends that he was better than everyone else at it. In the back of his mind, the inkling of doubt that is attempting to get inside is immediately squashed.

‘If I just had more time,’

Then again, he had stepped rather hard on her foot. He shakes his head. No. He would have gotten it in a few more minutes if she stayed.

Maka situates herself beside him, leaning against the wall he’s against as well. She frowns, more so pouts, “Gosh, Tsubaki dances so elegantly. Her and Soul look so good together.”

BlackStar’s eyebrows furrow. He immediately looks up, scanning the dancers for his partner. He finds the shadow weapon swaying slowly and comfortably with Soul. They do look pretty elegant and correct. Tsubaki is still taller though, but Soul hasn’t stepped on her toes once throughout the dance.

Maka’s frown deepens, “Dancing is so dumb anyways.”

“Yeah, it is!” He agrees. If it was a fight, he’d beat everyone in the room, no contest. He doesn’t need to learn some ballroom dancing, no way. Tsubaki can go and dance with twenty other guys and he’d be completely fine standing here. Or eating. Yeah, he should just go eat. Actually, he should be training right now.

His arms tighten across his chest, a bubble of anger making him sink. Maka sighs, “I just can’t get good at this dancing stuff.”

Seeing his partner dance so well with another person doesn’t sit well with him. So he couldn’t do the dance and now she went off to dance with Soul? Come on Tsubaki!

They do make a good pair.

....When it comes to dancing!

Tsubaki is his weapon, and Soul isn’t even a meister. He doubts if he was, that he could even handle such an awesome weapon like Tsubaki. BlackStar scoffs under his breath, thinking about the image of Soul being a meister and attempting to wield Tsubaki. And failing.

He scoffs to himself. He could dance if he wanted. Some ballroom dancing isn’t even cool enough for a big guy like him.

Maka sighs, “Tsubaki’s gotten so pretty...”

BlackStar allows himself a bit of pride. Of course Tsubaki gets compliments, she’s his weapon and the best, suited for the man who will surpass god. His smile widens and he pays close attention as the song comes to a winding stop. The band bows and Tsubaki pulls away from Soul. They had been talking the entire time through the dance, clearly comfortable as friends. Tsubaki applauds the band, along with the rest of the people on the dance floor, with a soft, angelic smile.

Yeah, Tsubaki’s always been really nice. Really understanding. Soul shoves his hands into his pockets, glancing up at the shadow weapon. He says something and it makes her blush a bit, her hand moving to cover her mouth in, what BlackStar already knows, is her flustered chuckle.

He pushes off from the wall, striding towards Tsubaki, “Hey, Tsubaki, lets go.”

She blinks at him, a bit startled by his sudden approach, “Already?”

Soul glances around the room, searching for Maka who he hasn’t noticed still stands against the wall, “The party is basically over, the band is getting ready to go.”

Tsubaki’s shoulders sink, “I was having fun dancing. Thanks so much Soul,”

From behind BlackStar, Maka approaches, her gaze a bit shy. She and Soul make their way towards Kid, perhaps as final goodbyes. BlackStar lifts his chin up in the air, “So, got a new dancing partner?”

Tsubaki shakes her head, in that calm way of hers. She’s gotten annoyed with him before but never angry, so he’s so used to that happy little smile of hers, “Just for a bit. But I’m right back here with you.”

BlackStar clears his throat, “Good.”

Maybe he doesn’t appreciate her enough but for some reason, he expects her to already know that he admires her constant presence near him. He crosses his arms, eyeing her. They start walking towards Kid, joining the group.

Liz notices them, and she takes a light jog towards Tsubaki. Uninterested, BlackStar continues walking towards the rest of his friends, but he catches Liz saying, a bit enthusiastically, “Oh, hey I just heard someone cute say he liked you. I told him to ask you out on a date!”

BlackStar freezes, his head swiveling towards the two tall girls.

WHAT THE HELL—

End of Part 1

(Don’t worry guys, I promise we’ll get romantic on the second part.)

#tsubaki x blackstar #blackstar x tsubaki #TsuStar #soul eater #tsubaki x blackstar fanfiction #black star x tsubaki fanfiction

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dc-x-readers · 7 years

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Lesson (Winn Schott x Reader

The Music Meister is back to teach another lesson about Love. This one is with my fav nerd Winn, y'all don’t know how much i love him, and i brought back a song from his Newsies days.

Trigger Warning: Prison, mentions of death/killing, awkward crush stuff

Your head hurt, that all you really knew. Your eyes were closed and you were laying on a concrete floor, and your head hurt.

Slowly you opened your eyes, you were in... somewhere you didn’t recognize. It was strange, the last thing that you clearly remembered was walking into your bedroom after an embarrassingly bad attempt at asking your crush, Winn Schott, on a date which resulted in you complimenting his shirt and him gently punching your arm. Kara had pushed you to try again, but one shoulder bump was enough humiliation for one day. Now you were in... a prison cell?

“God is right.” A voice called from beyond your prison cell. You recognized that voice, but only when its owner stepped into view did you connect the voice with a face. It was Kara Danvers, your best friend, and your Supergirl.

Kara didn’t look the way she normally did, her hair was pulled back into a slick bun, and she donned the uniform of a guard. The normal sparkle of light in her eyes was replaced by a cold glare and you didn’t really know what to make of it.

“Stuck in a world , draining our commonsense

Spirits of revolution,Diluted with authority

None Has the sense,purpose,point or reason

why the world is in this mess

we carry an ideal, purpose set to lie

and hate the privileged witness to murders

slaughters on the screen, how did we lead ourselves

to evolve from this obscene state of murder.

Will we ever turn our head from the alibis engraved

in a public eye there are no division lines

Faiths that tell us to be loyal, To ourselves

tell us to put the revolution on our shelves

And the knowledge we acquire, Cause no part of the whole

Dilutes us with an official sense of self

Its impossible to rebel against the machine

that keeps us on the verge of our existence.”

Instead of talking Kara sang.

You stared at the girl dumbfounded, she had a beautiful voice, but you had no idea why she thought now was a good time to break it out. You were in prison for God’s Sake.

“Kara, Kara I love ya’ baby, but tell me what’s going on here.” You said through the bars, finally standing up. Your head still hurt like a bugger, but you were more worried about the ramifications of you in prison then a little headache.

“Whose Kara?” The girl in front of you asked, and your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. This had to be a practical joke, Kara was right in front of you, talking to you. She couldn’t ask who Kara was.

“Officer Delancy, I got it from here.” Another familiar voice answered. Kara- or Officer Delancy who looks like Kara- moved aside for a new familiar face. This one of the love of your life, Winn Schott.

Winn looked too good in a guard's uniform, the material stretching over his body like a second skin, and honestly a man in uniform was one of the sexiest things out there.

Winn looked both direction before leaning in to whisper, “are you still Y/N?” he asked.

Shocked you smiled, whatever had taken Kara under it’s spell couldn’t get ahold of Winn either, he was still your Winn. Your Winn in a smexy uniform.

“Winn?” You asked relieved.

He nodded, and you felt certain that everything would be alright, if you and Winn could both be unaffected by this weird thing then you could save everyone else.

Winn took no time unlocking your cell, and you couldn’t help yourself, you stretched your arms around his neck and gave him a hug. He tensed as you touched him, and you began to pull away, fearing this was too awkward, but he pulled you in closer. You almost wanted to cry, getting thrown in jail, having your best friend not recognize you, and getting a tight embrace from Winn all in the span of fifteen minutes was really an emotional roller coaster.

“The Music Meister says that I need to learn a lesson.” Winn explained into your ear, not letting you go, “He said we need to finish the story. But if we die in here, we die for real. So I need to get you out of here. They want to kill you tonight.”

Urgently Winn rushed you down the hall, breaking your hug. You were almost sad about the lack of contact until his words registered in your ears. They wanted to kill you!

“What’s the lesson you need to learn! Learn it! Learn it quickly, I don’t want to die!” You shouted in fear as Winn dragged you along the corridors of the prison, the cells were all filled with people you knew, from you sixth grade teacher to Alex Danvers. When you tried to stop for Alex Winn ushered you along, saying she wasn’t the same girl that we knew.

“Don’t you think if I knew the lesson I would have done it by now?” Winn said exacerbated. “I can’t figure out how to get out of this Hell Hole, so I have to get you out because you are the most important thing to me.”

You stopped in your tracks. You were the most important thing to Winn. He cared about you that much?

Winn noticed the falter in your steps, he was about to yell at you to keep moving when he realised what he had said aloud. A sigh came from his lips and he opened his mouth to sing, “I had no use for moon light. Or sappy poetry. Love at first sight is for suckers, at least it used to be.”

You took a step back in surprise, this was Winn Schott, the man you had a crush on for, well forever, who was singing his feelings to you. He said he fell in love with you at first sight.

“Look, girls are nice, Once or twice, Till I find someone new, But I never planned on Someone like you.” His song finished with you in laboured breaths. You could not believe it.

“Y/N L/N I am in love with, always have been and always will be, which is why I can’t let them hurt you okay?” Winn said, his voice thick in his throat.

For a moment you didn’t know what to say or do, you just looked at him dumbfounded. You wanted to belt out a ballad explaining that you too care for him more than anything else in the world, but you didn’t know how.

“I understand if you don’t feel the same way-” Winn started.

You cut him off quickly, “No, it’s not that I don’t feel the same way. I do, I really do. I just, I thought you didn't want to be with me, I tried to ask you on a date so many times I have lost count.”

Winn’s beautiful eyes lit up. He got the cutest, goofiest smile in the world plastered to his face. Without warning he ran up and kissed you, your eyes fluttered closed with delight. You didn’t waste a second kissing back.

When you opened your eyes again you were back in your apartment, sprawled onto the floor. Was it just a dream, had you been in a weird mini coma?

But your phone rang, Winn was the caller, and somehow you knew it wasn’t a dream. Your lesson was the Love conquers all.

Songs are Samuel Caldwell’s Revenge and Newies I Never Planned on You

#winn schott #winn schott x reader #winn schott imagine #winn x reader #supergirl #supergirl imagine #music meister #dc comics #dc comic imagine #dc comics imagine #dc comics reader insert #dctv

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theadrogna · 7 years

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Legends of Tomorrow D&D Alignments

I’m a player of pen and paper RPGs when I’m not writing fanfic, and I thought it would be fun to do the Dungeons and Dragons alignments for the Legends. So here we go with a bit of blurb as to why I went with this line-up. As with all things, not everyone fits exactly and for some of them it really depends where you look on their character arc - Mick, in particular, moves about all over the place, but that’s partly why he ended up in the True Neutral category.

Lawful Good - “The Crusader”, this is the guy who does the right thing and but also has a commitment to order. Rip obviously does start the series by leaving the Time Masters, but it turns out that they aren’t exactly the good guys and he does still follow their tenets long after he’s left. Protecting the timeline is the order that he’s interested in maintaining, but he also consistently does the right thing. He protects his team and believes that everyone can better themselves. Rip will fight for what’s right and he doesn’t give up, stating how he always accomplishes his mission. However, as with all Lawful Good characters, sometimes his enthusiasm for order means he makes decisions that even he doesn’t like, such as not saving Laurel Lance. He’s definitely the spirit of Lawful Good even if his execution occasionally wavers. Other Arrowverse characters who fit into this category: Amaya Jiwe, Rex Tyler, J’onn Jonz, Alex Danvers, Julian Albert, Joe West, and weirdly, Oliver Queen when he’s being the mayor, but not when he’s the Arrow. Neutral Good - “The Hero”, so a lot of the Legends fit into this category, but if you want the epitome of “hero” then it has to be Ray, with his heart of solid gold. Neutral good characters do things because it’s the best thing to do and not because any laws say that they should. They are devoted to helping others, and Ray has this is spades. He built his own super-suit just so that he can save people, and he’s saved the team by putting himself in danger on multiple occasions. Other Arrowverse characters who fit into this category: Barry Allen, Iris West, Nate Heywood, Felicity Smoak, Jefferson Jackson, Martin Stein, and of course, Kara Danvers Chaotic Good - “The Rebel”. These characters are good at their core, but you can take your rules and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine. If you need a city cleaning up, then these people will do it no matter what. Vigilantes are often “Rebels” and you don’t get much more rebellious than Sara. Even in S2 she’s going off on her own to get revenge for her sister’s murder, and that’s when she’s supposed to be the one in charge. She fights for good but she doesn’t have much use for constrictive laws, and her decision to ignore one of the laws of time travel means that at the end of S2 the Legends save reality by breaking time. Other Arrowverse characters who fit into this category: John Constantine, Oliver Queen (when he’s the Arrow), Jonah Hex, possibly Miranda Coburn from the little we see of her

Lawful Neutral - “The Judge”. Order and organisation are the things that make a Lawful Neutral character tick, which seems perfect for an AI. Gideon occasionally skirts into Neutral Good when she’s showing her softer side, but generally she gets on with the day to day running of the ship and follows orders. Importantly for a Lawful Neutral character, she even follows the less good orders (Spaniel Broad Tricycle for example). Soldiers are often Lawful Neutral characters for exactly this reason. Other Arrowverse characters who fit into this category: Eve Baxter, all of the other Time Master Captains, Chronos (until he gets a bit carried away with his revenge)

True Neutral - “The Undecided” This was a hard one to pick because very few characters are ever truly neutral for long. They usually pick a side: good or evil, organisation or chaos. Mick, at least from when he joins the Legends, doesn’t pick a side so much as go along with the side that Snart picks. That lasts until he’s had enough, betrays the team and then gets captured by the Time Masters. Mick is basically his own side, which is how True Neutral characters tend to be - they do what’s right for them and screw everyone else, but they might follow your orders if your interests align. They usually tend towards doing good, because they like nice things like everyone else and aren’t really into killing for the sake of killing, but they don’t have to be good all the time. And to be honest even when Mick’s being a crook, he’s not doing it to hurt people or even break laws, he’s doing it because he likes it and enjoys burning things.Other Arrowverse characters who fit into this category: Cat Grant, and I can’t actually think of anyone else who even approaches this category.

Chaotic Neutral - “The Free Spirit”. Chaotic Neutral characters are the ones who are a bit off the wall. They value their own liberty and dislike authority in any form. Leonard Snart is nothing if not the master of his own destiny and he dislikes authority (usually in the form of Rip, but before that the police). I admit that perhaps he’s a little too controlled to be the epitome of Chaotic Neutral, but he’s definitely not exactly a good guy for most of Legends and certainly not in Flash, even though he often ends up doing the right thing. But he’s not evil either (although Legion!Snart pushes that a bit) and mostly he’s robbing stuff because he enjoys the challenge. He’s another character who’s only on his own side, but he’s more unpredictable, mercurial and harder to pin down than Mick. He loves the rivalry with the Flash and he enjoys the chase a bit too much. He has a habit of surprising you, right up to the moment he sacrifices himself and suddenly shifts into Neutral Good, the biggest surprise of all. Other Arrowverse characters who fit into this category: The Music Meister is actually a far better candidate for this category, but unfortunately hasn’t appeared in Legends yet.

Lawful Evil - “The Dominator”. We’re not talking about the alien Dominators here but the tendency of Lawful Evil characters to want to control everything. If a Lawful Evil character has the chance to set up a totalitarian state with lots of rules and harsh enforcement of said rules, then they are in heaven. Time Master Druce is an archetypal example of this. He loves the authority he wields and even says as much to Rip before he tries to kill him. To him, losing a few lives to Vandal Savage isn’t a problem, as long as the timeline is kept ordered and history is saved. He is methodical, he has a plan, and is dedicated to his own advancement. Lawful Evil is just diabolical when done well, because it often hides in plain sight pretending to be Good, which of course is exactly what Druce pulled with the Time Masters. Other Arrowverse characters who fit into this category: Damien Darhk, Early Malcolm Merlyn, Per Degaton

Neutral Evil - “The Malefactor”. These bad guys don’t care about the rule of law in the slightest, they just care about themselves and their evil plans. Eobard Thawne doesn’t give a stuff about the timeline or his Legion allies, he just wants the Spear to allow him to survive and give him the power he craves. He’s completely in it for his own ends and he’s pretty ruthless about how he achieves those ends. He has no issues with killing or getting others to kill for him, but he doesn’t kill just for the fun of it either. Other Arrowverse characters who fit into this category: Later Malcolm Merlyn, Evil!Rip, Slade Wilson

Chaotic Evil - “The Destroyer”. Possibly this is the pick that I’m least happy about. Chaotic Evil characters are really more random than Vandal Savage, they kill and destroy because they want to watch the world burn and often have the barest of motivation or no reason at all. But Savage doesn’t really fit into either Lawful Evil or Neutral Evil either. He’s too happy to take life without good reason, and too gleeful about killing. He doesn’t thrive on order in the same way that Druce does, he prefers to lurk in the shadows and manipulate things, and whilst, like Thawne, he does have an agenda, he appears to be enjoying himself quite a lot whilst carrying it out. He’s probably got a bit of all three of the Evil categories in there somewhere, but mostly he’s Chaotic, so I’m going with that. Other Arrowverse characters who fit into this category: Zoom, Savitar, The Trickster

Think I’ve got it all wrong? Tell me in the comments or suggest some more candidates for the categories.

#d&d alignment #legends of tomorrow #stuff I do when I'm avoiding writing #I know a couple of these are a bit of stretch #just for fun

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theblessedwitch · 7 years

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Arkham Asylum Survival Tips.

This is from my decaying Quotev account. I wrote this so long ago now, but I thought it might be fun to put it up here.

Arkham Asylum survival tips. As you know there are do’s and do nots to incarceration at Arkham here are some for a slight chance of survival.

Do not think singing the Batman theme song is going to result in any thing other than a painful expierance.

Touch Dr Crane’s books at your own risk.

Asking Edward Nygma if he wants to talk about his ‘daddy issues’ isn’t smart he will kill you.

Telling Deathstroke that Deadpool would totally kick his ass is grounds for immediate medication for talking about fictional characters again.

Flirting with Joker is a new level of stupid but be prepared for a blonde crazed Brooklyn women to try and kill you.

If you should escape and get access to the rogue’s confiscated weapons unless you hundred percent know what your doing don’t touch them and even then it’s likely they will hunt you down and kill you for the inconvenience.

Asking Bane who his dealer is isn’t going to get you any venom.

Please stop asking Copperhead if she can teach you swear words in Spanish, we do have Spanish speaking inmates and doctors it’s not a secret way to insult people.

Yes, Dr Crane is not the strongest person here this isn’t a go ahead to try and dominate him if he doesn’t get you back straight away then I’d suggest sleeping with one eye open for the foreseeable future.

If Edward Nygma should take a disliking to you giving him some puzzle books on the side isn’t entirely a bad idea.

Threatening ivy with weed killer doesn’t scare her, her 'babies’ are quite capable of looking after their selves.

Trying to persuade Selina Kyle to curl up in your lap like a kitten is your own funeral.

Shouting 'CROWS’ around Jonathan Crane just to try and scare him is going to result in a frightening death.

Asking Victor Zsasz to cut your food up for you is inviting trouble.

Asking Waylon Jones where captain hook is, will most likely end up with you missing body parts.

Touch Osito and you risk being broken.

Singing twisted fire starter at firefly may seem funny to you but God help you if he starts one.

Asking Edward Nygma what’s green, purple and black and regularly gets his ass handed to him by Batman is seriously stupid.

Telling Edward Nygma that he can use his Cain on you anytime he wants doesn’t sound sexual he will take you literally.

Asking if Crane wants a new test subject doesn’t sound sexual either he’ll gladly take you up on the offer.

Playing music aloud is permitted as one of your recreational activities but please be mindful of what you play as the last time someone played Justin Bieber aloud a fire broke out, a bomb went off, Bane smashed through two walls and Jarvis tried to initiate a flash mob.

Telling Harley you want to joke and fool around with her is in affect volunteering your head for a game of croquette.

Telling Jonathan crane that he is the grim reaper is only going to give him an ego boost.

Singing I’ve got a brand new combine harvester around Pamela isn’t wise.

If your not afraid of bombs then by all means scream capitalism on the top of your voice around Anarchy.

If you should be unlucky enough to draw the attentions of Jarvis Tetch then it is best advised to inform a doctor or guard and not to tell him your the reincarnation of the red queen or the jabberwocky he’ll take this just as seriously.

Asking any of the female prisoners for nudes may be asking for your phone to explode.

Telling Harley Quinn that vampires aren’t as good as werewolves will put you into a no exit lifelong debate.

Trying to flirt with any of the doctors and asking them if they want to start a 'mad love’ will mean that your doctors may have to be switched to the same gender as you and if you still persist then we will be forced to only use video connection to speak with you.

Asking Batman to bite you so you can join his legion of the undead is going to result in a neck brace.

Shouting to the Batmobile might end up with you being chucked under it.

If there is a break out it is advised to stay in your cell for your own safety and not to try to form teams of your favourite rogues.

Don’t think it’s funny calling Penguin happy feet or Mary Poppins.

Neither is calling officer Boyles Scarface.

Starting sleeve fights with your straight jacket is not their intended purpose.

Cash’s hook is not a kitchen utensil.

Although movies are permitted in recreational time there are some rules to when certain films can be shown as different inmates are effected by different things.

Neither of the Silent hill movies are allowed when Dr. Crane is present. Silence of the lambs is not permitted when Waylon Jones is present. Stephen King’s It isn’t allowed around Joker.

The Saw franchise isn’t allowed around Edward Nygma, he doesn’t need encouragement.

Tim Burton’s Alice in wonderland isn’t allowed when Jarvis Tetch is around, this should be common sense.

Most violence filled movies aren’t permitted around Zsasz, you don’t really need anything to trigger him.

If you find that Dr. Crane is taking a frequent interest in your personal fears and phobias you should immediately tell a guard or doctor and not tell him stupid made up fears and phobias as if he finds out that your lying he’ll make it his personal mission to make you frightened of your own lies.

It’s best to humour Joker when he asks if you want to know how he got his scars?.

Bragging about animal abuse is not only grounds for time being taken away from your recreational time but you may incur abuse from some of the animal loving inmates.

Instigating wheelchair races is not the purpose of the wheelchairs and is strictly prohibited.

Telling Jarvis that the ghost of Arkham is watching him sleep will earn you solitary confinement.

Writing riddles on the walls and then trying to blame Edward isn’t clever, because he will pick so many holes in your argument and ridicule you so savagely that your likely to end up developing a self inferiority complex.

Trying to steal Osito to sleep with at night isn’t going to end well. For anyone.

Please refrain from stealing medication as we regret to inform you that we believe some of them may have been tampered with, if you begin to laugh uncontrollably, start to feel that Jarvis is making sense or ten foot cockroaches are stampeding through the halls please tell a doctor or guard.

Asking two face to flip a coin for every mundane decision you make is eventually going to end up with your life being determined by a fifty fifty probability.

Telling Jarvis that the Grudge is looking for him is again not acceptable.

There are some patients that suffer from insomnia and stress induced sleep deprivation, if said patients happen to fall asleep then leave them alone it isn’t your place to be as loud as you possibly can to try and wake them up, it’s not just really annoying but it could result in them taking it out on the first person to wake them up, so just make sure it’s not you.

We would appreciate it if everyone who frequents the gym to stop trying to get Bane and Waylon to lift increasingly heavy weights, it always ends in competitions turning into fights.

Male inmates who try to sneak into the female showers please keep in mind that the last time this happened his remains was recovered from the drainage system.

And in relation any female inmates who try to sneak into the male showers…are actually non existent, seriously no one wants to go in there. O_O

Please check your personal toiletries before using them, apparently Joker and Harley has an ongoing bet to see which one of them can dye the most people’s hair.

Trying to play whack a mole on the other patient with Harley’s hammer is strictly prohibited.

Please refrain from laughing at Riddler’s green hair, it is being resolved. :?

The rumours aren’t true there isn’t going to be a 'trick or treating crazies field trip’ please try to remember your here for your own rehabilitation.

Hair dryers are very welcome but trying to thaw out Mr. Freeze with them is not.

Please remember that giving medication forms into the doctors that have been signed by either Harleen Quinzel, Jonathan Crane or Hugo Strange are not valid they are patients their selves, there are reasons to why they can no longer practice.

Trying to show Jarvis Alice madness returns the game is strongly discouraged.

please do not touch Nightmare or Craw.

No, you can not have your straight jackets in sparkly pink.

Upon apprehension some patients may have their own personal work on their person, trying to plagiarise or copy their life’s work is going to end up you experiencing the product of their work firsthand.

Please use the doors and not make new exits.

Your sinking to a new level if you ask Mr. Freeze 'is your wife giving you the cold shoulder?’.

Deprive people of caffeine at your own risk.

Music Meister will not sing for you, why would you even want him to?

Killer moth isn’t going to follow laser pointers, he only dresses like a moth.

Touch Harley’s J necklace at your own cost.

The spinach in the canteen is not part kryptonite, and if your stupid enough to try and throw it at superman as a deterrent then on your head be it.

Detective J'onn johnz is not an alien.

No, Vicky vale doesn’t want an exclusive interview with you.

Jack Ryder might have published a paper on his triumph over Floyd Lawton but Deadshot says otherwise.

No you can’t phone Amanda Weller with your phone privileges and ask her to 'sign me up for the suicide squad!“.

Robin doesn’t have to sign in as a minor, stop insisting he does.

Bruce Wayne will not adopt you.

Music Meister will not serenade you, he might perforate your eardrums but he won’t serenade you.

Joker really doesn’t like cream pies in the face, who knew?

No you can’t use Zsasz as a living tally chart board when your playing pool, he might return the favour.

Deathstroke will not teach you some 'really cool Army shit!’ He could possibly demonstrate some 'really cool Army shit!’ On you but he won’t teach you.

The last person to sing Miley Cyrus’s wreaking ball actually ended up squashed by one, I have no idea how they pulled it off but they did, really creatively too.

Yes security levels at Wal-Mart are better, we all know.

Ichobod is not Jonathan’s real name.

Green arrow isn’t looking for maid Marian.

And no he’s not from the legend of Zelda either.

It’s quite easy to swipe Boles’s burbon. Just don’t tell him I told you.

Trying to lift Catwoman up like the lion king isn’t going to work.

Oswald isn’t pingu.

No you can’t redecorate your cell, it’s not meant to be homely.

Bribing the staff isn’t advised but we all know you could probably get away with it.

Batman isn’t into BDSM.

Ra’s al ghul isn’t going to die if you throw salt at him, you might though.

please be kind, I know it’s not the best written piece in the world. I’m resitting my English and maths and trying to improve by writing the subjects I like.

#jonathan crane #edward nygma #harley quinn #poison ivy #jervis tetch #two face #bane #killer moth #mr freeze #music meister #quotev #headcanon

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hexusproductions · 7 years

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Art and Snark

Title: Art and Snark Summary: Bruce runs into a familiar face at an art gallery. Jesus... Author’s Notes: I’ve wanted to do this one for a while now, actually. Enjoy!

The art gallery seems to have repaired quite well following Crazy Quilt’s last attack. Even if the people around him had known about the former blue paint and the liquid that had been red but definitely had not been paint strewn across the walls, they wouldn’t be able to tell where it had been. Unlike him, of course.

“Bruce!” Claire sauntered up to him, drunk off of praise and a little bit of champagne, “Liking the exhibition so far?”

“It’s wonderful, Claire. You truly are a gifted artist.” He chuckled, flashing a smile. Claire beamed and released her grip on his arm, no doubt trying to hide that she had been using him as a support, and went off to another group of admirers. Bruce turned his attention back to the piece in front of him, a mix of browns and greens and reminiscent of a forest.

He was happy for Claire, he really was. She’d come a long way since the last time he’d seen her, struggling to make ends meet and get an idea onto the canvas. The only problem was that he felt like he had been invited merely to attract attention to the exhibition, like a lantern in an air full of moths.

Bruce’s lips twisted into a faint smile, more genuine this time.

Still, he was happy to be here if it meant supporting a former friend.

Bruce was brought back to Earth as an athletic-looking brunette stepped beside him, wearing a short, modest, and fairly loose-fitting red dress. A silver chain hung around her neck, hair pulled up in a high ponytail, and a pair of dark sunglasses hiding her eyes.

All of this registered in the short glance up and down that Bruce gave to the woman, and he frowned slightly.

It couldn’t be, could it?

“Enjoying the exhibition?” Bruce questioned, keeping his tone conversational, and the brunette shrugged.

“Not really my kind of thing, to be honest.”

The accent was a dead giveaway, and Bruce glanced around quickly. When he looked back with a scowl, the brunette was smiling widely.

“Hiya Bruce.”

He turned his attention back to the painted canvas, making sure any passers-by would think they were discussing the art.

“What are you doing here?” Bruce hissed.

“No hello? Rude. And it’s been so long since we last saw each other.” Sorceress grinned, acting casual herself.

“Because last time you and your power-hungry partner tried to take over the theatre district.”

“First of all, he’s not hungry, he just likes it. Just like you and stormy rooftops.” Sorceress corrected, cocky all the while, “And second, it wasn’t the entire theatre district. Just a block or two.”

“So why are you here now?”

“Thought I’d come and appreciate the art. Is that a crime?”

“No, but theft is.” Bruce replied flatly, and Sorceress looked at him, nothing but that smile showing with the sunglasses still on her face.

“Compared to, what, breaking and entering? Assault? Vigilantism?”

Bruce was quiet for a moment, and Sorceress chuckled.

“Got ya, didn’t-“

“You used to enjoy it too.”

Sorceress blinked, or at least she seemed to.

“Excuse me?”

“You used to enjoy it too. Helping to stop them. Helping to stop crime.” Bruce continued, and Sorceress crossed her arms casually but with hints of a familiar defiance.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself. I enjoyed the thrill.”

“Now why do I have trouble believing you?”

Sorceress didn’t reply, staring at Bruce for a few minutes until just after he mentally decided that he was a little uncomfortable.

“Seeing you shift from Bruce voice to Batman voice to Bruce again is extremely unnerving.” Sorceress remarked. They both fell into silence as an overweight man passed behind them, nodding towards the artwork appreciatively. The silence continued after he was gone.

“So do you miss me?” Sorceress spoke eventually, smiling again. Bruce didn’t answer, and Sorceress frowned.

“You’re such a killjoy.”

“As you’ve said. Repeatedly.” Bruce replied, and Sorceress quickly pulled a face at him before looking forward again. Her arms were still crossed, but tenser than before.

“You never really liked me did you?”

Bruce didn’t answer. He could see that Sorceress was getting restless, and that could easily mean that she was about to flare up. He couldn’t let anyone get hurt.

“You know I’m not exactly the friendly type.” Bruce remarked casually.

“Yeah no kidding.” Sorceress chuckled. She paused, and Bruce looked at her.

“You didn’t do anything.” She sighed, sounding exasperated, “I left ‘cause I wasn’t happy.”

“Were you ever really capable of such a thing.”

“Oh ha ha ha, detective.” Sorceress pulled another face before shrugging, “It was mostly all the rules. You and the other heroes expected a certain mould, and I just didn’t fit.” Bruce looked at her, an eyebrow raised slightly. Sorceress saw the look, and turned her head back to the painting.

“There’s always been this,” She waved her hand, an unnoticeable gesture by itself, “And the thrill-seeking, and the adrenaline addiction.”

Bruce looked at her in surprise.

“You mean…?“

“Yep. Hopefully only a minor one, early diagnosis and everythin’.” Sorceress shrugged, before continuing, “Plus there’s a lot, a lot of anger and aggression. But again, you’d know something about that wouldn’t you?” She smiled teasingly. Bruce was admittedly a little shocked. It wasn’t surprising, but…

“You know what you’re doing isn’t right.”

“You’ve always been so stubborn.” Sorceress smiled, turning to him, “You’re thinkin’ of someone like Crane or Edward. But I don’t hurt innocent people, and my biggest crime is probably the occasional bank break in.”

“And jewellery stores.”

“That was a phase.” Sorceress retorted, “The whole new villain thing was exciting and I got a little too hyped.”

“Oh so you’ll be returning the priceless twin sapphires you stole.”

“Can’t. We sold them to Two-Face.” Sorceress said simply, then continued, “Bottom line, Bruce, I feel happier. It’s stupid and illegal, but I’m not being towed behind anyone anymore. Feels good on the soul.” Sorceress emphasized the last sentence by holding a hand over her heart. The two of them looked at each other and chuckled. Bruce rolled his eyes. She was always going to stay the same.

A man walked towards the two of them, dressed in a dark suit with a smile just as sharp. Bruce recognized him immediately and his smile faded.

“Hello, beautiful.” Music Meister put his arm around Sorceress’s waist, smile widening to a grin, “I hope Mr Wayne here hasn’t been trying to sweep you off your feet while I’ve been gone.”

The thought shared between Bruce and Sorceress was almost telepathic.

He doesn’t know. Keep it that way.

“Oh I couldn’t if I tried.” Bruce laughed, shifting back into the usual persona, “Morgan here is certainly a witty young woman, but she’s too smart to be tricked.”

“Well,” Meister chuckled, tilting her chin up towards him with a more devilish smile, “I wouldn’t know about that.”

“You’re embarrassing sometimes, y’know that?” Sorceress told him before stepping away, and Michel raised an eyebrow.

“Time to go, Morgan?” He questioned, and Bruce saw the mischievous look that passed between them. They were definitely planning something.

“Yes.” Sorceress agreed before gesturing, “You go and I’ll catch up, I still gotta say goodbye to Bruce.” Meister nodded, smiled towards Bruce, and walked away with a casual, unhurried stride. Sorceress and Bruce shook hands like they were old friends who wanted to meet at another, less formal time, before Sorceress suddenly hugged him.

“’Witty young woman’?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Yeah well now you’ve got Claire the art bimbo to look forward to. You know she-“

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Then shut up and enjoy the show.”

“You know I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“This is so fucking weird.”

Sorceress released him, quickly hiding her discomfort. She fixed the glasses on her face and grinned before waving and walking away. Bruce watched her leave, then walked quickly through the gallery. He brushed by people and gently pushed a few more on his path towards the back exit. By the time he got to the door, a loud shout of surprise came from close by, followed by a few gasps.

“Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you’re all enjoying yourselves!”

Bruce quickly darted through the door.

#I can't stay long #I have like less than a gig of internet #Sorceress #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Music Meister #Michel Forte #fanfiction

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perles-infinite-fictional-love · 7 years

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The quieter side of Arkham City (short 3: Show's about to start)

For an entire day- or two? It was hard to tell day from night here in Arkham City, especially where we were hiding- I’ve been practicing with the Maestro of villainy. Although, in all honesty, I would have continued practicing for days, if it wasn’t for the fact that we were starving. We used to have a package of dry cookies I found in the tailor’s desk, and we both agreed that we’d be reasonable about it- but of course, he ended up eating most of it. I was so hungry, I had trouble focusing on dancing.

According to the Meister, my dancing was still far from perfect, but, we seemed to be out of option. We were gonna have to leave our hiding spot to find supplies.

Of course, we were both anxious about this, and I dare to say I was more afraid than him, for I knew that if things went terribly wrong, I’d be less likely to survive than a huge, feared imp like him. The Music Meister kept staring at a mirror to make himself as good-looking as possible (as if it was a priority), continuously asking me if he looked fine or if his muting collar was visible, while I simply stared blankly at the floor and the wall, contemplating how absurd this situation was- we looked like we were preparing ourselves for a musical number… Have you ever taken part in a play? You know the stress of getting ready to enter the stage? Fear of the huge judging audience? It was like that, except if I messed it up, we could both be dead. No pressure.

I looked up at the Music Meister for some support, and he stared back at me. I must have looked sick, because he frowned at me with a grimace, like someone saying “Yikes!”, and after a moment, his lips spelled out “We will valse. It will be easier for you.”

I sighed and nodded. It wasn’t the support I was looking for, but I guess… I shouldn’t ask that much kindness from him. “Besides, if we’re lucky, maybe there’s nobody outside… Right?” I added.

He eyed me quickly, then glanced at the window with a small nod of his head.

“Well then.” I took a deep breath. “I guess I’ll open the door, since I’m supposed to be your hypnotized puppet and all that.”

He gestured me the door with a teasing grin that made me want to punch him, and I started my acting- repeating a catchy song in my head, I was bouncing and snapping my fingers as I slipped to the door to open it with a spin and spread arms. Like I imagined, the Music Meister took his role perfectly; that confident and elegant walk plus that dazzling smile could have made anyone believe things were going his way- that his voice was as active as it could be. Then, just as soon as he was in front of me, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into a valse.

I must admit, spinning like that was not helping the sick feeling I already had- this could have been… almost pleasant, if only I was more in shape. I can’t believe he said valsing would be easier for me… So we were practically valsing our way across the street, both looking over the other’s shoulder to figure out if we were alone out there. I ended up whispering “Are we alone? Can we stop?” and he shushed me. As soon as this was over, I would punch him.

Finally, when I thought I was about to throw up, we reached the door of a convenience store- now that seemed like a jackpot. He spun me around -exactly what my stomach needed- and I grabbed the door knob, opened it, and pulled us both inside. As soon as I heard the door shut behind us, I quickly sat down to take deep beaths and shut my eyes- I have a very weak system, it can’t be a secret that I’m not one of these people with time for “self-care”, and therefore, I am not the healthiest person on Earth… I felt the Music Meister poke me, and I absently pushed his arm away. “Dammit, give me a moment, would you?” It took me a while, but my head eventually stopped spinning, and my ears stopped ringing, allowing me to open my eyes and look at what we got into…

It was a disaster, It looked like a storm happened inside this store; shelves fallen over, lights broken, and most of the food missing… most of it, luckily, as we still had a good bunch of supplies like chips, candy, bread, snack packages, beverage cans… Not really healthy, but it looked like it could actually make us last a week or two, maybe. As for the Music Meister, who had enough time to look at this mess while I was recovering, he was already cleaning the place, to my surprise; pushing shelves aside, and setting the food back where it belonged. I was… pretty grateful for that, knowing I would have done it myself if I wasn’t feeling so dizzy.

But he looked… nervous for some reason, very nervous. He caught me staring at him, and crossed his arms with narrowed eyes. “Feeling better?”

I grabbed a small bag of chips and teared it open. “As soon as I eat that…” But then I heard him snapping his fingers twice- yes, he’d snap his fingers to get my attention. What am I, a dog? I sighed, looking over at him. “What?” He silently pointed at the wall behind him, a serious expression on his face. “What is it-” I froze when I saw what he was pointing at; green paint smudged over the wall, in the shape of a huge question mark.

As the Meister walked closer to stare at it with me, I looked over at him. “…Does that mean the Riddler sent some men here to get supplies?”

He shrugged, not looking away from the question mark, then whispered. “I don’t want to get in the Riddler’s way. He’s clever enough to figure out I’m mute.” He turned around and started pacing around the store- I could tell that he’d be rambling about all our problems, if he could speak. He sighed, rubbing the collar around his neck. He looked like he was about to cry again. And if he, a big scary guy, was scared enough to cry, it worried me enough to make me panic as well.

“Are we maybe… overreacting? I-it’s just a question mark…” I paused. “Besides. what is a mute Music Meister worth to the Riddler? You’re either useless or too powerful for him- Why would he waste his time with us, eh?”

He slowly stopped pacing around to raise a brow at me. Felt like he was encouraging me to continue…

“… We just gotta keep dancing on the streets once in a while- dumb people will fall for it and spread the news that you’re here and dangerous, and slowly the streets around here will clear out, alright?”

“What about clever thugs?”

“I-… We’ll beat them up- I mean, you have your baton, right? We can handle a very small group of inmates… And tell them that if they tell anyone you’ll come after them when you’ll have your voice. Or even offer them to work for you- that will depend of their attitude.”

The Music Meister seemed a little surprised by what I said, and I admit I was surprised too- I almost sounded like a member of organized crime… I didn’t like this, at all, but we couldn’t be all friendly and vulnerable in a city like this, could we? He looked at the floor a moment and nodded with a small “Okay” on his lips, then “thank you.”

#music meister #maestro of villainy #fanfic #arkham city fanfic #arkham city #the quieter side of arkham city #fanfiction

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pasta-abomination · 7 years

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Well, Supergirl, it’s been fun.

When I first heard of the show last year, it was this—maybe a little cheesy, but that’s comics—fun show with a focus on relationships between women of all different types, a show about a woman growing up and coming into her own and finding her place in the world. And, of course, Kara and Alex. The sisterhood at the heart of the show. Of course there were some things that could’ve been done better—but it became clearer and clearer that it was an honest effort.

I hope you know how much of a leap of faith it took to follow Supergirl to the CW, as a queer woman. I hope you know that that’s—in my entirely unprofessional opinion—an indicator of how much good faith this show had. This show literally got the CW’s foot in the door with a demographic that it had all but completely alienated by this time last year.

I think it’s safe to say you’ve used that up.

I believe that representation matters. But it doesn’t begin and end with Sanvers. And this season I have watched:

1. A black man and a beloved DC character sidelined as a love interest with no warning, no real explanation, and no further treatment of it—now, as we know, to pair off Kara with the frat-boy reincarnation of Lar Gand   2. Kara’s entire arc this season (both Danvers sisters, actually) be reduced to her love interest. Jeremiah who?   3. The eighty millionth regurgitation of the “love of a good woman” trope. I don’t need to go into why this is inappropriate on so many levels in a supposedly feminist show that’s marketed towards young women and girls (but I will anyways).   4. Characterization and continuity thrown out the window in order to make Mon-El look good and drive the plot.    For Jeremiah’s deception to fool everyone but Mon-El, not only do we have to assume that it never occurred to trained government operatives that he could be a plant, we also have to believe that a) no one examined him at the DEO, b) if they did, no one knows the difference between a robotic arm and a human one, and c) we have to forget that Hank/J’onn is a literal mind reader.    You can only excuse so much before it starts to look like you’re tearing down your title character and your actual core ensemble in order to make a character relevant to the plot.  5. Kara repeatedly insist that she doesn’t like Mon-El, she doesn’t want to be around him—only to have him harass her until she dates him (or forgives him).   6. Alex “Come near my family and I will end you” Danvers push her sister repeatedly at a man who Kara has openly expressed dislike for multiple times; who, once they’re dating, disrespects and lies to her repeatedly. She excuses his behavior on more than one occasion. (Are we sure they haven’t all been replaced with White Martians?)   7. Watch Kara be put in a position (sometimes transparently contrived, as in “Homecoming”) where she either has to apologize to Mon-El because he’s been justified by the narrative, or, for some unknown reason (usually prodding from another character, like Alex or the Music Meister), decides to forgive him. Over and over and over again.   8. An actual episode, supposedly focused on the Danvers family, where Mon-El has more screen time than the actual lead and drives a plot he isn’t even relevant to.

This show was, nominally, about Kara Danvers. Her as a whole person; trauma, family, grief, rage, jealousy—and her deep desire in spite of what she’d been through to give back to her adoptive home and do the right thing. It was about her professional life, trying to make her way in the world and working for the kind of woman that could help her learn how to do those things. It was about her assumptions being challenged—not narratively bludgeoned—and her learning. But most of all, it was about her becoming her own person. A whole person.

That show is gone. Her single main arc this season as a character is rehabilitating the galaxy’s most unrepentant frat boy by… arguing with him a lot and constantly being pushed to a point where she’s ready to break up with him, apparently. People are so quick to say “But he’s learning!”; “But Kara’s a stick-in-the-mud!”; “She’s prejudiced too!” (I’m pretty sure you call “prejudice” against a shameless misogynist “standards”, but what do I know, I’m gay). They’re missing the point. And that is:

Kara’s story now revolves around Mon-El.

Arguments and evenings with him have entirely replaced “sister nights” at the end of the episodes. His secrets, his disrespect, his actions, are now driving her development as a character. She mostly only reacts to events outside of that, like another threat from Cadmus, or rescuing Lena Luthor, or whatever’s happening with Jeremiah—but her stance towards those events is reactive.

In other words, Kara no longer drives her own story.

And Kara has lost her job at CatCo. That job that, last year, “kept her connected” to the people she was trying to serve? Disappeared with a whimper after a similarly half-assed treatment to the search for Jeremiah. Kara no longer has a professional life.

But okay. I’m gay; clearly I don’t understand what it’s like to be heterosexual, or in a relationship, and I’m obviously only in this for the Supercorp, right? I should just stay in my lane. I have Sanvers! What else could I possibly want?

Funny you should ask.

Flip side of Alex’s story—I’ve lived in queer communities. I’ve watched friends come out. Women who thought they were straight.

And I watched them struggle with the things they’ve been taught about relationships. What they should want and what’s acceptable from a partner. What love looks like, on that micro, interpersonal level. Things that are, in many ways, inextricably intertwined with gender, in our culture.

Mon-El is the closest thing I can think of to an embodiment of all those things that they struggle to unlearn. Mon-El—and stories like this one—are exactly how they learned those things.

Let me remind you, in case you’ve forgotten, that while the queer lady fanbase for shows tends to have a much wider age range, this show is primarily directed at young women and girls.

A show that’s marketed as “female-centric” has in fact become a show about a woman fixing a man—a man who, incidentally, doesn’t want to be fixed. He just wants to keep banging her.

And these girls are going to grow up and become women—straight or not—who will go out into the world thinking that this is normal. That this is acceptable—to be lied to repeatedly, to have your requests for privacy disregarded, your family spoken to rudely and your parents treated with hostility and suspicion, to have your house broken into, be accused of sleeping with someone by a jealous not-boyfriend, to shoulder the entire emotional weight of making the relationship work by forgiving him over and over and over again—

—Because in the end, the story goes, that will make him (them) better.

The reality is, so often, that it doesn’t. That a person will happily continue taking advantage of someone’s good faith if they think they can get away with it. That jealous behavior like Mon-El exhibits often escalates into physical violence. That a dude who seemingly doesn’t care is often exactly what he seems. Someone who doesn’t want to change will not change, no matter how “much” you love them.

That you owe it to that person to stay with them and pour all your effort into a relationship; that sure, you “deserve better” than to be lied to—But you’re still a terrible person if you don’t give them another chance.

Compared with a relationship that only gets five minutes of screen time most episodes, it feels a little bit like I’m expected to be happy with what I’m offered as a member of the queer female demographic and ignore the utterly cringe-worthy toxicity of the Kara/Mon-El relationship, the abrupt and kinda racist way James was removed from the field, the terrible narrative choices, the plot holes so big you could lose Fort Rozz in them, and, oh yeah—that Supergirl is no longer Kara’s story. It’s the story of Mon-El’s rehabilitation.

I can’t celebrate the representation I’ve wanted for fifteen years when it means I have to ignore the destructive messages the rest of this show is pushing.

And, kinda like a car crash, it’s becoming increasingly clear that whoever is driving this story is not letting off the gas. I don’t know why. But I can see it coming, so I’m bailing.

I want to support positive queer representation. I want to support shows about women, and their stories—all of them. It’s what made me willing to take a risk on this show after the move was announced.

But Supergirl is no longer that story. And damn, I wish it were different. But I recognize the signs. And I’m gonna be spending my Monday evenings watching something else. Something I can enjoy without feeling like I’m throwing anyone who’s not me under the bus. Hanging on and waiting for a change that’s never gonna come.

#supergirl #sanvers #karolsen #supercorp #kara danvers #anti-mon-el #tokenism #i am not here to be used to sell a toxic relationship

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creddieswestallen · 7 years

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the future of westallen

Ok some of y’all need to chill, Grant’s interview with TVLine actually made me feel better now that I think about it. I will miss fluffy WestAllen so much because their love made me so happy but we already knew the other shoe had to drop at some point and none of us expected it to happen quite like this not even Grant. In the interview, he said he really liked the proposal and was a little surprised that the storyline started going this way. I don’t know how anything in this interview could be interpreted to Barry and Iris not being together anymore I got the opposite, they still love each other very much and want to be together. With everything going on Barry is losing his mind so I think him staying at Cisco’s for a couple will help him clear his mind and figure some stuff out while giving Iris space. He needs to come to terms that her death is a possibility instead of his blatant refusal that it’s even a possibility and figure out how to defeat Savitar, which he needs to do on his own. Barry won’t be staying at Cisco’s for long, I fully believe that after Barry’s trip to the speedforce and his Music Meister induced coma that Barry and Iris won’t want to spend another moment apart and they’ll be back together in their loft by the end of 3x17 or the beginning of 3x18 and now the original song “Running Home to You” that Barry sings to Iris makes perfect sense now. Grant’s response to whether or not Barry will propose again this season was very telling, he said the circumstances don’t even need to change but they need to trust their love and believe in the relationship. I’m expecting another proposal before the season ends even if it’s the last scene of the finale and I can’t wait to cry I bet it’s going to be even more beautiful than the first time because it’ll be for the right reasons.

#grant gustin #westallen #barry allen #iris west #the flash speculations #quincey writes

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a-nerds-ponderings-blog · 7 years

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SuperHero Low-Down

March 19 – April 16

SUPERGIRL

Season 2: Episode 16 – Star-Crossed (Part 1)

A new villain comes to National City, putting Supergirl on high alert. Meanwhile, Winn's girlfriend, Lyra, gets Winn in trouble with the law. Maggie attempts to help Winn but old loyalties get in the way. The Music Meister attacks Supergirl.

What is the rule that is always broken in television? Do not keep secrets, do not lie… they always come out in the end. This episode is based around Kara’s discovery of who Mon-El really is, and her reaction to it all. Of course she is upset about his true identity and finds she cannot handle the truth. In his defense though, would she have given him half a chance to prove himself or change had he told her who he was in the beginning? It is somewhat a catch 22 in this situation. If he had told her in the beginning, her hatred for his planet and his race would have influenced her decision. But now that she knows of his identity and that he lied, she is even angrier. He was doomed from the start no matter his decision. The ending scene was very interesting and made the audience excited for the musical crossover with The Flash. That was certainly a treat.

Season 2: Episode 17 – Distant Sun

A large bounty is put out on Supergirl and aliens from far and near attack National City intent on taking out the woman of steel. Alex and Maggie run into Maggie’s ex-girlfriend, Emily, who is in town for a week. Hank gets an interesting order from President Marsdin.

First of all, the sub-plot with Alex and Maggie and Maggie’s ex, did not have to be in this episode. Yes t is good to ad personal plots to a story, but there was so much going on this episode, that it did not need to be put in. But having said that, it was interesting how Alex shrugged off Maggie’s past and said that she loved that Maggie wasn’t so perfect after all. That shows signs of a really lasting relationship. Having said that… this was a great episode. We see Mon-El actually making a decision regarding Kara, and we also see that she believes in him more than she thought she did. This brings them closer together and we see just how different Mon-El is from his parents after all. It will be interesting to see just what the consequences Hank will face for defying the President’s orders, and it was also interesting to see the final reveal of the episode. This should lead up to a really great season ending when the show comes back. All in all, this was a good episode, it touched on personal feelings, personal relationships, and for the most part had happy endings. But it also gave us some foreshadow for the future.

NEXT WEEK (2 week Break)

Season 2: Episode 18 – Ace Reporter

Lena’s ex-boyfriend, Jack Spheer, comes to National City to unveil his big breakthrough in nano-technology, which has the potential to eradicate all diseases. Lena asks Kara to attend Jack’s conference with her for support. When Kara sees Snapper in attendance she’s inspired to tap back into her reporter skills and questions Jack on his discovery, which ultimately leads to a bigger investigation that puts everyone in danger.

THE FLASH

Season 3: Episode 17 – Duet (Part 2)

Barry and team are surprised when Mon-El and Hank Henshaw arrive on their Earth carrying a comatose Supergirl who was whammied by the Music Meister. Unable to wake her up, they turn to Team Flash to save her. However, the Music Meister surprises The Flash and puts him in a similar coma, one that Team Flash can't cure. Kara and Barry wake up without their powers in an alternate reality where life is like a musical and the only way to escape is by following the script, complete with singing and dancing, to the end. This episode began in Supergirl S02E16.

What a cute crossover. This episode really fit well with Barry and Kara. It would not have worked for the Legends or for Oliver. Though we got some musical cameos from Malcolm Merlin and from Professor Stein. It really was just a fun way to cross over the two shows, but it gave us some depth. It helped to fix relationship problems in both shows that needed a quick fix as opposed to drawing things out completely. And as they said a few times in the episode “things are much easier in a musical” The troubles they had in the musical were compelling and interesting to see Iris and Mon-El as a couple. There was also an odd call back to early seasons of Arrow, as Mon-El was Merlin’s son, and his name was Tommy. It was an interesting wink to the past, and could it also be a hint for the future? That could be interesting. And as much as all the songs were catchy, who else was humming “I’m your Super friend” for a few hours after the episode was over. This was a really fun episode, and we got to see a lot of the cast from both shows exercise their musical talents… who knew Cisco could sing like that. It is odd to look at this week’s episode of Supergirl and the Flash, and then the heavy episode of Arrow. It would be interesting to see if this was done purposely, so the entire week was not heavy.

Season 3: Episode 18 – Abra Kadabra

The Flash battles Abra Kadabra, a villain from Earth-19, who makes him a tempting offer – release him and Abra Kadara will reveal Savitar’s true identity. Desperate to save Iris, Barry considers taking the deal but Gypsy breaches in to capture the villain for her own reasons and during the melee, Abra Kadabra manages to escape. Barry is furious that Gypsy interfered but Gypsy refuses to back down, forcing Cisco to take sides. Julian is still a bit cold towards Caitlin but when she is severely injured in a battle with Gypsy, he rushes to her side.

Talk about heartless. Abra Kadabra not only gives Barry an offer that he could not take without suffering heavy guilt, but the speech about “now I get to kill her too” at the end was horrible. It really made you nod when Gypsy took him away for his execution. Poor Cisco, he can never catch a break when it comes to women. He was really into Gypsy, but we know his loyalties must lie with his friends, and the way she reacted, that was too much for him. The way that Julian and Caitlin were cold towards each other, we knew something was going to happen. And then when they started to rekindle their relationship, we knew the reveal was just waiting around the corner. The minute she said “I would rather die than take off my necklace” we all knew that Julian would not let her die, and that things would get a little “frosty” by the end of the episode. So now we have the impending doom of Iris on our hands, and Killer Frost’s return. It will be interesting to see what will come of all of this in the weeks to come.

NEXT WEEK (2 week break)

Season 3: Episode 19 – The Once and Future Flash

Barry travels to the future to find out Savitar’s still unknown identity in the hopes of saving Iris. Upon his arrival in 2024, Barry encounters future versions of his Team Flash friends, who, following the death of Iris, have become very different people, profoundly impacted by their showdown with Savitar. It will be up to Barry to infuse a sense of hope back into the team, as he proves to be hero his future friends have been waiting for. Meanwhile, back in 2017, the hunt for Killer Frost continues.

LEGENDS OF TOMORROW

Season 2: Episode 15 – Fellowship of the Spear

The Legends must devise a plan to retrieve the last remaining fragments of the Spear of Destiny from the Legion of Doom. They find themselves in France at the height of World War I faced with the knowledge that they must destroy the mystical object. They enlist the help of a soldier by the name of John Ronald Reuel Tolkin and find that the Spear is leading them into the heart of the war. Meanwhile, the team must all resist the temptation of the Spear, and the return of a former teammate.

Is this show trying to say that J.R.R. Tolkin got the idea for Lord of the Rings from the Legends? That was completely brilliant. The Ring Easter eggs were far too many to remember. One being that Rory’s heat blast was able to reveal writing on the spear, or that it had a lure to everyone to use it. It would have been perfect if someone like Ray called the spear “my precious” but it would have been too on the nose. This episode was not only entertaining for the Tolkin moments, but we also see that the Legends are not heroes, as they let the spear of destiny slip into the hands of the Legion of Doom. As the credits roll the audience gets a bad feeling for the following week’s episode, and we wonder how the Legends will come out of this situation.

Season 2: Episode 16 – Doomworld

After obtaining the Spear of Destiny, the Legion of Doom rewrites reality, leaving the Legends changed, perhaps forever. Frightfully, the Legends’ and the world’s hopes rest with Rory, but being the “hero” is not easy for him. Meanwhile, there is tension within the Legion of Doom and the reason why the Spear of Destiny needs to be destroyed is revealed.

And everything has gone to hell. It was interesting to see how the Legion of Doom had changed things. Luckily hey were not that different from the ‘normal’ world, except for no one knowing who they were. It was a little nerve wracking that it was up to Rory to save everyone. It made things difficult though, as he was the one who betrayed them in the first place. It makes things challenging, such as trusting Rory, considering he was the reason the Legion got the spear in the first place. It was ironic that out of all the Legends, Stein was the one who put up the most resistance to the memory retrieval. Though it was entertaining to see him as a lackie for the Legion, we were almost heartbroken to see him trying to thwart the Legends. This seems like the first half of the 2-part season finale, and you start to wonder how they are going to get out of this. Also, Rip making cakes was very entertaining, but really what do you do when you’ve given up hope? Luckily Gideon was there to slap him across the face.

Season 2: Episode 17 – Aruba

As the Legends are about to take off for their next destination, a massive timequake rocks the ship. In order to try and fix what has happened, they are forced to break the one cardinal rule of time travel. But if they are able to destroy the spear, they will face the ultimate consequence.

Every time travel show talks about the cardinal rule… do not go back in your own timeline. Each mythology has its own consequences and reasons why, but the main point is… don’t do it. In Legends of Tomorrow, we have something called a time quake, and they cause some major damage. In this season finale we see the Legends go back to World War 1 and try to intervene with their other selves and destroy the spear before the Legion gets it. But they are trying to do it without interacting with their other selves. But… in true Legends fashion, they fail miserably. Although technically they are aboritions, it was heartbreaking when tragedy struck part of the team. And all Rory wanted to do was go to Aruba for some drinks. It was interesting that when the two teams of Legends meet up, the former version assumed that the current versions were the Legion in disguise. Sara’s line of “ok, who’s wearing me” was certainly chuckle-worthy. This season finale was really well-done, well-paced, and well-written. It makes you beg for the next season to come back very soon.

ARROW

Season 5: Episode 17 – Kapiushon

Prometheus goes to great lengths to break Oliver. Meanwhile, in the flashbacks, Anatoly becomes worried about Oliver’s increasingly violent tendencies, which come to a head in a brutal confrontation.

This episode did a great job tying together the past and the present, with one final message to Oliver. It is the confession we waited the whole episode for him to give to Chase, and to admit to himself. How heartbreaking was it when he came back to the team and just looked completely defeated. It is difficult to see a hero fall, but one as strong as Oliver, defeated by his own truth… that was very difficult to see. It was also interesting to see that this episode was solely surrounded around Oliver, not the Green Arrow, not the team, but Oliver himself. It was a way to show who and what he really is. Or at least according to Chase. It was so heart-wrenching to see him broken and defeated. It really was a change of pace from the Supergirl / Flash crossover this week. It almost balanced out the silliness of the other shows with the seriousness and tragedy of this episode.

Season 5: Episode 18 – Disbanded

Diggle and Felicity are shocked by Oliver’s decision to call on the Bratva to help take down Prometheus. Concerned the Bratva may overstep, Diggle has a hard conversation with Oliver about what happens if things go south. Meanwhile, Felicity learns something shocking at Helix.

Could you imagine staring at your enemy in the eye and having to be polite to him, even though he just finished torturing you for six days? It showed strength, but also defeat in Oliver to have to do this with Chase. We have seen him beaten before, we have seen him injured and mutilated before. But this was the first time we saw Oliver mentally defeated. He wanted to end everything, disband the team and let Chase get away with his torture, all because he took the burden of it all on himself. Luckily for Oliver, Diggle is not ready to step aside, and neither is Felicity. This episode was really well-done, tying the past and the present together, also showing the more human side of Oliver… showing that he can have flaws too. It also reminded us that Diggle has been there with Oliver right from the start, he’s been around since Oliver started the crusade, and is not willing to give up without a fight. In the end Oliver sees reason. Though, it is thanks to Felicity who “discovers” the video footage of Chase as Prometheus. It looks as though we have a happy ending coming, but we all know this is Arrow, and we’re not happy unless something is going wrong. Only time will tell.

NEXT WEEK (2 week break)

Season 5: Episode 19 – Dangerous Liaisons

Oliver, Team Arrow, ARGUS and the SCPD kick off a citywide manhunt for Adrian Chase. Helix tells Felicity they have a way to find Chase but they will need something big, and illegal, from her in return.

Until Next time...

Thanks for watching

#supergirl #the flash #legends of tomorrow #arrow #dc comics #weekly review

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0daysoflifeanddeath · 7 years

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Mama

Anonymous requested: Can I request Soul Eater song fanfiction on MCR's "Mama", SoMa on sonata arctica's "The Misery" or same but "Tallulah"? Pretty please? With a cherry on top?

Even though this is 3 years late, I wrote this and didn’t want you to continue waiting. *sweat drops*

I’m extremely sorry for being so late.

Mama, we all go to hell.

I’m writing this letter and wishing you well,

Mama, we all go to hell.

If there was one word that Soul could use to describe the situation, it was insane.

His meister could also be described as the same word. Insane. Perhaps she had looked like just an innocent scrawny girl their first meeting, but she proved that her strength had actually been as good as her fiery personality shown on the fateful day near that damned piano.

Although, her fiery personality was also one of her downfalls as it would lead to them in some sort of reckless situation caused by her, she was one of the greatest meisters in the academy.

When their so-called friend Death the Kid had made the announcement that they were going to the moon, everyone believed he was more than insane. (The United States already went to the moon, why the hell did they have to go back up there?) However, when Maka confirmed that they should because the kishin Asura had taken a liking to living up there, they had no choice but to go. (NASA must’ve been freaking that day he had arrived there.)

“DODGE!” he yelled as one of the kishin’s scarves bolted out from under him to hit his meister.

The ash-blonde had no problem dodging it by flying to the right but frowned down at her weapon. “I know what I’m doing!”

“You’re gonna get both of us killed!” ‘Please don’t get killed…’ The unsaid statement hung in the air.

“I’m not, I’m just testing the waters to see what he’s capable of.” ‘I promise not to let either of us die.’

A glare came onto the blade of the scythe, the white-haired boy appearing. He looked at his meister, saw the determined arch of her brow and purse of her lips, and he knew that she was sure of not killing either of them.

She shifted her feet, a smirk on her lips as she stared at the kishin. “I’ve got an idea. You’re going to have to trust me on this.”

“I’d follow you to the end of the earth, you know this,” Soul answered without hesitation.

As if expecting such an answer, she smiled down at him before looking back up and charging towards Asura.

Soul was fairly sure that his existence in this world was not unfortunate nor a mistake. It couldn’t be because he had been able to befriend someone as amazing as Maka. Although it had only been a few years since they knew each other, he felt as if he had known her all his life. He had begun to panic when all three meisters were getting even more beat up by the second. He had to do something.

“There’s always the room, Soul. Come in, it’s been a while,” the little red demon smiled creepily at him.

He frowned but couldn’t help following it. It would be a losing battle without the help of the black blood. As he stepped in the room, the pinstripe suit and red undershirt and tie materialized onto him. With a sigh, he walked over the piano. Caressing the top and lightly gliding his fingers on the keys, he smirked. ‘Hello, sweetie.’ He took a seat and poised his fingers above the black and white keys.

As soon as the music started, the three meisters let the music guide their bodies. Like every time they group resonated, they worked well together. Black Star hit him from the right, Kid from the left, and Maka from below, giving the Kishin no time to even blink.

With an angry growl, Asura stretched out his scarves and went for all of them. “You brats!”

They all dodged but had missed seeing the Kishin throwing out his weapon from his mouth and aiming it right at them. Their backs hit the wall behind them, blood coming from all of their mouths.

The girls screamed their meister’s names in worry but Soul had no time to do so, as he let the music becoming more fast paced.

Black Star was the first to peel himself from the wall and charge with a battle cry. Death the Kid soon followed after him and it took no longer for Maka to join them. They went in with the same position as before, however, Kid and Black Star moved forward to hit him with their weapons. They ended up back on the wall and Maka had no time to react as it approached her quickly.

The Kishin grinned as his hand stabbed through his meister’s abdomen.

Asura was not someone to be messed with and he had learned that the very first meeting (not really meeting as it was more of his meister grabbing onto the guy’s scarf and then falling thousands of feet from the sky). But the last meeting with Asura wasn’t something that he liked to think about as he had stayed in the infirmary for a few days and the insane face the guy made didn’t make him all that likeable (he didn’t want to know how his red eyes and white hair made him look when he was insane).

He smirked as his meister’s attire turned into one of the Black Room, letting the blood consume both of them. His meister squeezed the Kishin’s upper arm, making him his and pull his hand out of her abdomen.

With a growl, the Kishin made to grab at her again with his scarves only to have her swing the scythe around and hit him upside the head and stagger.

Maka giggled with a manic smile. Soul’s own insane smile appearing on his face. The scythe had turned from its red and black color to a white and black scheme, even going so far as becoming a piano at the blade.

The Kishin would make to advance at Maka, but she would only dodge it with a creepy smile. It would soon go downhill if they remained like that, allowing the madness to fill them like Asura let the madness fill him.

‘Get a grip on yourself, Soul! Stay sane! You’re just using the black blood to keep your meister alive!’ As if a madness switch turned off, Soul could feel his real self again.

“Maka! Are you okay?!” he called out worriedly, focused intensely on the keys in front of him.

“She’s dandy, thanks to that Black Blood of yours,” Black Star replied as he appeared next to the ash-blonde meister.

“Good,” Soul replied. ‘I didn’t know if that was really going to work.’

Maka sighed in relief, a smile on her face as she glanced at her weapon. “I knew I could trust my weapon.”

“Of course,” he replied. “What kind of weapon lets their meister die?”

“I thought you were too cool for me,” she teased.

“Doesn’t mean I want you dead, Angel,” he teased back, fingers poised above the black and white keys. “You ready?”

With a firm nod, she got into battle stance.

His fingers crashed onto the keys, resonating through both of their souls. The melody was quick and chaotic, Maka matching her steps to the irregular beat of the music. With a battle cry and the climax of the song, the blade of the scythe grew larger to create ‘Kishin Hunter’. She brought it through the stomach of the kishin, whom looked amused at her attempt.

“Useless.”

Suddenly, the kishin gasped as Black Star and Kid held onto him to keep him still and the ash-blonde in front of him stuck her hand into his wound.

“What do you plan to do once you enter me?”

Ignoring the kishin’s words, Maka took a deep breath and dived into him.

“Gross.”

“Shut up, let’s go get Crona.”

Even in a crisis, her partner was quite annoying.

They had been able to appear inside of the Kishin, who was filled with Black Blood. It was as if they were floating in actual space, nothing around them. However, it wasn’t quiet. An insane scream ripped through the void, Maka and Soul quickly clutching at their ears and closing their eyes at its tone.

When the screeching didn’t stop, Maka grabbed onto Soul’s hand.

“Focus! We just need to focus on getting Crona! We can’t let the madness get to us!”

Soul nodded at her before closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, squeezing his partner’s hand as she looked for Crona.

“Found Crona.”

With that they were floating towards Crona’s direction, Soul leaving music behind him.

The ash-blonde rose an eyebrow at him in question.

“Hansel and Gretel,” was his answer.

She continued to stare at him.

“Leaving some bread crumbs so we can find out way back home,” he grunted, “Is this another ‘mundane’ thing you don’t know about?”

“Seems so. I’ve never heard the term before.”

“I thought you were a bookworm.”

“The library didn’t have mundane books. They held stories about things like kishins, witches, werewolves, zombies, real things.”

Soul grinned at her. “That’s called story books and fairy tales in the ‘mundane’ world, Angel.”

She blushed at the pet name, pursing her lips and focusing back on their task at hand. “Crona’s here somewhere…”

“Lead the way, I’m always gonna be behind you.”

With a nod, she continued. In the distance, she could see a thin figure. Her face lit up as she went towards the figure. “Crona!” she called out.

The figure turned towards the pair. Eyes filled with madness as they greeted them with an insane smile. “Maka. Soul. What’re you guys doing here? Has the kishin eaten you up too?”

The ash-blonde meister grimaced at Crona’s tone as they neared them. “Crona, let’s get out of here.”

“I can’t. No one leaves from inside the kishin,” they said, the underlying tone of their inevitable death bringing shivers to their spine.

“Snap out of it Crona!” Soul growled, grabbing their collar. “We came in here to save you! We’re getting you out!”

Crona frowned, grabbing Soul’s wrists. “Even if we wanted to, we can’t. I can’t. I’m trapped here.” Crona turned to Maka, eyes filled with sadness. “I want to come with you, but the only way to kill the kishin is if I stay here.”

Her eyes widened and it was suddenly her hands grabbing Crona’s collar. “No! We came in here so we can save you and defeat the kishin!”

“Maka…”

“We aren’t leaving without you!”

“Maka, listen please,” their voice turned soft, as if they were back in the days where everything between them was fine. “I can kill him. But I’ll have to stay here to do that. You guys can be safe. Everyone can be safe.”

The scythe meister didn’t know what to say. It felt like everything she had done was all for nothing.

“By saving all these people, I’ll be able to live with myself. I’ll be alright, Maka.”

“I came all the way here… I can’t just leave you now, Crona…”

With a firm look, they grabbed her hands that were still at her collar and stated, “I need to save all of you. This is the only way. Please, Maka…”

She would not cry. “Okay…” she managed to choke out.

Crona smiled, letting her go and hugging her. “Thank you. For being my friends. I’m happy I met you guys.”

She wouldn’t cry. “I’m happy we met you too.”

“Stop crying please, I want you to be happy when you leave…”

She sniffled, wiping away her tears. “Thank you Crona, for everything.”

They squeezed each other’s hands before releasing each other.

“Get out safely,” Crona waved as Ragnarok came out from his back and transformed into his weapon to get ready for a battle.

“C’mon, let’s go,” Soul sighed, grabbing Maka’s hand and following the music notes back to where they had started.

The trip back was faster than the trip in, but much more bloody as they had escaped from the same wound Maka had inflicted on the kishin before.

“Where’s Crona?!” Kid yelled, shooting at one of the scarves that tried to attack him.

“He’s not coming,” Maka answered with a frown.

“Why not?!” Black Star yelled, seemingly angry. “Did we come here for no reason?!”

As if answering the blue-haired meister’s question, Asura suddenly screeched as he keeled over on all fours.

The trio stared as black blood came up and out of Asura’s mouth. His sounds of pain filled the air, curses lacing between the intervals of throw-ups. “I’m-!” he coughed out, eyes wide with anger. “I’ll kill you all!”

Suddenly, black spots formed in the space around them. The spots seemed to start growing larger and started to connect. Realization hit Maka quickly.

“He’s trying to trap us with him with his black blood!”

The kishin smirked as his body ejected more of the black blood.

As soon as Maka had announced the news, the kishin’s scarves flew out at them.

They all dodged, quickly running away from the kishin and heading to the open space that would lead them away from the moon.

“We need to go! Quickly!” Kid ordered as they tried to outrun the wall of black blood that would trap the kishin onto the moon.

The three meisters flew towards the opening that was starting to close.

‘Faster!’

Maka’s heart raced as the wall drew closer to them. Just a few inches…

“Maka!” She heard her father cry. Warm arms wrapped around her midsection and she pried them off her with a face void of emotion. When she turned around to look at him, her heart softened. “I’m so glad you’re okay, Maka!”

“Yeah, okay, papa.” She patted his head before being tackled in a hug by Marie.

“I’m so glad all of you got back safely!”

“Safely is hardly the word,” Stein commented and shrugged after his significant other gave him a glare, Maka laughed at the exchange.

Soul rolled his shoulders tiredly, sitting on the grass. He watched as the older death scythes tended to his wounded friends, grimacing when he heard a crack while stretching out his arms. Being transformed for too long always made his body too stiff, no matter how many times he’s done it.

“I told you to stop doing that.” Maka sat beside him with a frown, leaning over to rub his shoulders. She smiled when he let out a sigh of relief.

“Yeah, sorry. Forgot that you have magical hands,” he let out another sigh of relief before his cheeks turned red.

His meister was red-faced as well but hadn’t stopped massaging his shoulders.

To cover up the embarrassment he felt, Soul coughed behind his hand. “Um, so, how are you feeling though? I should be the one massaging your shoulders. You were the one out in the battle field.”

She let go of him and waved her hands. “No, it’s fine. Ms. Marie checked on me, but I guess the black blood helped.”

“It better have, you almost died up there.” Soul couldn’t help but frown at the memory of a few minutes ago.

“But I knew I wouldn’t because you’re my weapon. You always have my back, right?”

‘Yes, quite literally sometimes,’ was what Soul wanted to say. “Of course, you know I do.”

She smiled at him in a way that made his heart clench. “Good, because our job’s not done.” She stood, dusting her skirt off.

“It’s never over,” he muttered as he got up and watched as his meister frowned up at their new version of the moon.

“It’s not over. The madness is spread all over the world…”

He sighed and patted her on the head. “There’s nothing you can do, Maka. We’re all going to hell anyway.”

“SOUL!”

“What?” he looked up to the moon, lips turned down in a grimace. “After all that? You think heaven’s a thing for us?”

“You don’t have to be such a downer though!”

Soul smirked, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as they walked back to their apartment. “I’m not a downer, my grandma told me I’m just realistic.”

“Says the boy who couldn’t believe he was a weapon.”

“Hey, I didn’t even know people like me existed.”

“Oh, right. You were a mundane.”

As the two argued on the way home, a figure from a nearby building watched them. Eyes crazed and lips pulled upwards until their ear, it giggled. “Toys, toys, toys…” It bit on its fingertips as it watched the meister-weapon duo push each other. “They’ll be in my personally made hell soon… My toys…”

Mama, we’re all gonna die

#my stuff #soul eater #fanart and fanfictions

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goddessapostless · 7 years

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Fandom: Soul Eater Characters: Maka Albarn, Soul Eater Evans Summary: Maka scowls at the tag on her shirt, the one that crushes her dreams of being the greatest meister ever, the one with 'Weapon' scrawled across the top. [Reverse AU; Maka is a weapon and Soul is a meister.]

2k // AO3 // FFN

Soul could always tell when someone was near. There were few times anyone was able to actually startle him. Not even his brother, with his light steps and even lighter breathing, could sneak up on him. Soul always blamed his family. Well, not them, per se, but their occupation. His musical family gave him sensitive ears that could pick up on the slightest sounds, no matter how small. He already blamed them for his monotonous life; what was one extra strong sense compared to that?

He's practicing when it's finally brought up.

Soul had been playing his piano for so long the notes rang in his ears. Wes and his mother step into the room from the door to his back, and without turning to face them, he slides to the side so Wes can join him in a duet. When they are done, his mother dismisses Wes and takes his spot on the bench. She taps out a few loose notes before asking "How did you know we were here?"

Soul shrugs. "I guess I heard you."

Without warning, Madame Evans plays the song he was practicing before she interrupted him. She plays it just as he did, every note falling where it should, but it sounds amazing from her fingers - he sounds like a toddler compared to her. But that is not the point she's trying to make. What she wants is to show him the volume of the song. How loud it was when it was him playing it. And when she reaches the point where he let off, she winds down with a few extra notes that don't belong.

"You heard us through that?" His mother seems amused, and it annoys him. She ruffles his hair affectionately before continuing. "I don't think you're hearing us, Soul. We're not making as much noise as you think." He just gives her a blank look. Of course they were, otherwise he wouldn't know they were there. He tells her this, and she smiles and shakes her head. "You've heard stories of psychics, haven't you? ESP and the like, right?"

He scoffs. "They're bogus. Just people that are good at reading other people."

"Maybe." She chuckles. "But there are people who can do it. Are you sure you can hear us? Or is it more of a feeling that you get?"

Soul searches his memories. When he was practicing, at a recital, listening to music thundering through his headphones - all the times he knew there was someone approaching him, without eyes or ears or knowledge. It was more of a feeling than anything else, and just like that, a piece of the world clicks into something he can't quite make out yet.

He eyes his mother, who has been sitting silently while he ponders this. "How would you know anything about this?" he asks her when her smile becomes unbearable.

Her smile turns sad. "I used to do it, too, but the ability's faded from me. I suppose I traded it for my talent in music." She tries to joke, but Soul doesn't laugh, doesn't even smile. Instead, he scowls deeper. She clears her throat and starts again. "What I mean is, it runs in the family. My brother could do it, too, but he didn't let it fade. He practiced it until it became something of a weapon for him. He claims he can see into a person's very soul, now. I'm not sure if I believe it, but I think it would be better if you developed whatever this sixth sense is, don't you?"

Soul bristles. So this is it. His mother is finally giving up on him. His failure in music had reached the point that his mother felt he should give up.

Madame Evans stands behind him and wraps her arms around his neck, dissipating his doubts with her touch. "I think your music is beautiful, Soul. I want you to continue it, if that's what you want. But it's not making you happy, not like it is us. If you'd rather pursue another path, I will support you. The new school year is coming up. I can send you to the school my brother graduated from, if you want. It's something to consider." Her arms leave his shoulders and she opens the door.

Soul stops her with a question. "Where is it?"

"In the United States. Nevada, I believe."

Soul grins. "Perfect."

Maka wanted to be a great meister, like her mother. A meister. A meister, not a weapon.

It hadn't always been that way. When she was younger, she would have been fine with either. She trained for either position, strengthening both her body (in case she wielded a weapon) and her soul (in case she became one) ever since she was young. It wasn't until she was nine that she decided she wanted to be a meister only, thanks to her womanizing father.

It was his fault Mama wanted to leave, after all. His sneaking around had ignited a scornful wrath inside her mother, and though it rarely reared its head when Maka was around, she could tell from the way her mother moved, jerky and aggressive, that her father was out with another woman. Maka could see it, could almost tell when her mother would have enough and explode. In fact, she predicted the day her mother would snap.

There wasn't a big confrontation, an argument, or an explosion. There wasn't even a slammed door. There was just her mother and a suitcase and a hand smoothing Maka's hair as she was on the brink of waking. "You're so strong, Maka," a voice whispered, "you're so much stronger than me or your father." Lips met her forehead in a tender touch, and by the time she was fully awake, her mother was gone.

From that day, she despised the idea of being a weapon, of being like her father in any way whatsoever. She would become a meister, like her mother, and she would make her partner the strongest Death Scythe the world had ever known.

The irony was not lost on her when she tried to squish a bug and stabbed it instead. The damn thing had snuck up on her, crawled across her leg before jumping to the coffee table she was resting her feet on. She yelped, jumped, and started slamming her hand down on it. The realization that she was bare-handed only occurred to her after her hand smacked the table and there were spider guts all over her palm. Except...

It wasn't her hand that was on the table. Instead there was a blade that skewered the bug through its abdomen - a blade as dark as night, extending from the table to her elbow.

Needless to say, Maka was furious. She spent the rest of that week cursing her father for his strong genes. It was only a month before school started, after all, and her plans were just crushed by him.

So now she stands at the entrance of the DWMA, a week before classes start, and she's wearing that stupid name tag with that stupid 'Weapon' scrawled across the top. Lord Death stands just inside the door, greeting the newcomers as they enter and giving them the gist of the rules for the next seven days - it almost sounds like he wants them to participate in trust falls and speed-dating to "find the perfect match for your Weapon and/or Meister partner!" Maka scowls at the other weapons around her and stares longingly at all the 'Meister' tags she can see. If she's being honest, she'd like to try being her own meister, if that makes sense. She'd only need to change her arm into a scythe and surely she could learn to fight like that, but her mother insisted (through her letters, of course) that she at least try to find a partner.

Lord Death greets her with nothing more than a salute, and she's thankful that's all he does. She just wants to get this over with and knows how he loves to talk - she's known him all her life, after all. She's run through the halls of the school and she's watched the first week of each new year for as long as she can remember. She doesn't need anyone pointing out that her previous dream of being the greatest meister ever was now shattered by the label on her shirt. Of course her father is too over-the-moon to care.

He waves to her from across the room, his eyes shiny and brimming with tears as he spots her. He starts toward her, shouting for her to stay put, he needs a picture, he wants to talk about how to shift, blah blah blah. She shoots him a glare and stomps towards the hall. It's supposed to be off-limits for now, since the school is big and confusing and no one wants to go hunting for any new students that got lost in its labyrinthine corridors. But Maka knows where she's going, and she knows where to hide to escape her father's relentless pursuit.

She slips into a thin hall that's half hidden behind a message board and runs up a flight of stairs to the second floor main hallway. She slows down, sure she's lost him, when she hears the faint trickle of a piano drifting through the air. Curious, she follows it, trying to pick out the direction it's coming from. She knows it's not Black Star or any of her other childhood friends - they don't know how to play any instruments. That means this person is probably new, and probably lost, and most importantly, some stranger to hang out with until this hellish day was over with and then never see again except in passing.

She may still be bitter about being a weapon, and she may go without a meister despite her mother's advice, and she may be feeling somewhat antisocial now because of that.

But the music intrigues her. As she gets closer, she can decipher a melody - a rough, jagged, broken one that rises and falls in time to her breathing. She can hear a quieter melody beneath, just as broken as the louder one, and it taps along with her footsteps. Listening to them at the same time is an experience, and it seems intimate. The two melodies interlock in intricate waves - where one is weak, the other is strong; where one is soft, the other loud. It is an utterly jarring thing, the way the notes seem to float carelessly and then sting without warning.

Maka listens closely, her heart beating in time to it, and she's not sure why she hesitates outside the closed door of the music room.

Her hand is on the door, ready to push, but she doesn't. She doesn't want to disturb whoever is in there, she's not sure she wants to know. She doesn't understand music anyway, and she doesn't want to bother the person behind the door with her questions. It's as her hand falls that the song fades and a voice calls to her.

"Come on in," the person says, his cool voice in stark contrast to his music. Maka opens the door and peeks in before she enters, her hands behind her back.

"That was really..." She struggles for a word, trying to think back to her elementary music lessons. "Cool." Cool is the best she can come up with? Really? Way to go, Maka!

The boy at the piano shrugs. "I guess." He's silent for a moment before asking, "What are you doing up here? I thought this floor was closed so us newbies don't get lost."

Maka shrugs. "Running away from my dad." The boy quirks an eyebrow at that, but she continues before he can ask. "And I grew up here. I know this place inside and out."

"This is a pretty big place to have memorized."

"Yep." Maka's smile widens. "But it's helped me keep my title of Hide-and-Seek champion since I was six."

The boy laughs and holds out his hand. "I'm Soul," he says, his eyes crinkling as he smirks.

"Maka." She shakes his hand, and they share a mischievous look. His gaze flickers to her chest, to her 'Weapon' tag, and she peels the offending sticker off her shirt before crumpling it and throwing it in the garbage can at the front of the room. Soul holds up his own marker, flashing the word 'Meister' before it disappears into his fist and joins hers in the wastebasket.

#soul eater #soul eater fanfic #soul evans #maka albarn #reverse au #cj writes #charm.fanfic #charm.soul eater

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