#if they turn around and do what i pitched months ago im gonna take hunter to court istg

[samijey]

WWE playing me like 2K with this tease 😮‍💨

[recentanimenews]

OPINION: How Black Clover Revitalized a Tired Trope

  A few weeks ago, I read a piece on Slate lamenting the fact that a huge number of onscreen magical battles end up just being people dueling with the same basic laser beams. And honestly, I agree with this take. Magic in fiction is often treated with a kind of boundless abandon, something free to be explored and wielded in a way that's only limited by the creator's imagination. And then, for some reason, when it comes time for the REALLY important moments, it's two people standing about 20 feet apart, aiming their hands and staffs and wands at one another until one of them falls down. Or disintegrates. Whichever comes first.

  Luckily, we have Black Clover. I've written before that series creator Yuki Tabata obviously enjoys mixing and matching magical powers, seeing which ones work well together and which ones clash in interesting ways. It's likely why he decided to have Asta use anti-magic. That kind of power would play off the other characters' abilities better in the long run, more so than if he'd just given Asta a few vague, RPG-friendly spells and let 'im loose.

    This feature becomes an obvious asset for the series from the onset, with the first appearance of Asta's powers against Revchi's chains lending him to a sort of horrific mystery (not to mention that displaying "chains" as the ability of the first bad guy is an immediately refreshing decision when so much offensive magic in fiction strictly revolves around more elemental things). However, it takes center stage when the Black Bulls debut in full and we see them team up to take on villains. These duels only get more interesting with time as well, with early battles like Noelle's Water Magic defending people from Heath's Ice Magic evolving to Asta using Gauche's Mirror Magic for help with Baro and Sally, to the undersea fight where various mini-teams of Black Bulls take on Vetto.

  Of course, it doesn't hurt that there's an ever-expanding amount of specific types of magic that warriors can use. From the aforementioned Chains Magic to Ash Magic to Beast Magic to Wing Magic to Wraith Magic (which reanimates corpses), it ensures that the battles, while often escalating in stakes, don't follow a general pattern of anime power scaling. Depending on the magic at play, the latest fight won't necessarily have the biggest explosions. Thus the climaxes of battles are often built around wrapping up the specific arcs of the characters involved, with their control over their magic abilities at the time representing their growth. This is by no means a new thing in storytelling or anime, but it does ensure that a Yami fight doesn't feel like an Asta fight, and a Yuno fight doesn't ever feel like a Noelle fight. 

    The best example of this? The Magic Knights Captains' Capture the Flag game episode is an anime installment that I've refused to shut up for months about:

  What helps this battle is that it's a contest rather than powerful characters attempting to maim or kill one another. This means that they have to inherently use their powers in a way that plays the game and provides obstacles. They can't just launch their most deadly attacks to win. They gotta be smart and (relatively) subtle, because otherwise who's gonna defend the Clover Kingdom?

  However, I think the peak of it probably remains Licht's battle with Julius Novachrono, with the former's Light Magic taking on the Wizard King's Time Magic. Not only is the general arc of the battle interesting — Licht's cockiness quickly turns to panic as he realizes that Novachrono's far too fast for him, leading him to slow Julius down enough for the killing blow by diverting his focus toward the lives of everyone in the Clover Kingdom. The way the two powers collide is both visually dynamic and clever, proving that moving at the speed of light gets you nowhere if your opponent can dictate how fast that light is. 

    Again, this is not the first anime to approach magical systems this way, even if it's not called "magic." Fullmetal Alchemist's "alchemy" is similarly interesting. As is the Nen system from Hunter X Hunter. If you want more great magic, check out something like Puella Magi Madoka Magica, which is fantastic and absolutely won't make you feel terrible sometimes. I simply point out Black Clover because I'm glad to see another example of interesting magic at work, something that thrives on creative settings and match-ups and keeps each battle and character feeling distinct. Gimme as much of that as you've got. 

  What do you think makes Black Clover so special? Let us know in the comments!

      Daniel Dockery is a Senior Staff Writer for Crunchyroll. Follow him on Twitter!

  Do you love writing? Do you love anime? If you have an idea for a features story, pitch it to Crunchyroll Features!

By: Daniel Dockery

[suckerfordeansfreckles]

I got one! Um, cas calling Dean late at night cause he was sick, and dean was worried, and cas just wants some comfort, and it might just devolve cuz dean just can't help his love of cas and his growly sick voice . . . And cas may have already known that lol.

Soup & Syrup on AO3

Word count: 1.548 words

Rating: General Audience

Some tags: soft boys, best friends to lovers, sick Cas, AU, gentle caretaker Dean, getting together, no real kisses though because Cas is SICK

Note: @ladygotsoul I hope you like this, love, and it made you feel as soft and happy as it made my own currently sick (and possibly using this fic to project and wish lol) ass. I adore you

“Hello, Dean,” Cas says, as soon as the call connects.

“Hey, Cas,” Dean mumbles into the speaker, sounding soft and half-asleep. “Fuck, you don’t sound so good.”

“Yeah, it’s—” he has to break off into a coughing fit, returning to the phone with his voice sounding even raspier. And it speaks volumes that even he himself notices it. “It’s gotten worse.”

He started feeling sick two days ago, throat raw and hurting, every part of his body in pain as if he’ll burn up with fever any second. Then he had to cancel their weekly study date in the library this afternoon, to stay home and take a quick nap that accidentally ended up four hours long and left him groggy and sweaty and weird.

Dean has been sending him texts, five since he cancelled earlier, and as soon as Cas felt awake and present enough to respond, he called.

This is where they are now, around 1 a.m. on a Saturday. He didn’t really stop to look at the clock before he called Dean, but — well. He was just hoping Dean would be awake, maybe out with friends. He was just hoping that maybe, maybe, Dean would come by and dote a little on him. Just because having his best friend around always makes him feel better. Not because he craves Dean’s presence, his palm on Cas’ forehead and his hands tucking him in beneath his blanket. Absolutely not.

“— over? Cas?” Dean speaks against his ear, low and urgent, and Cas realizes that he hasn’t been listening at all during the past few moments.

“Sorry?” he rasps. “I spaced out for a bit.”

“How are you feeling?” he asks, and this time it’s soft, but still somewhat urgent.

“I feel a little better, spent most of the evening asleep and drinking tea. I’m just… groggy and weird. And my cough isn’t going away,” Cas says. Maybe pouts, but Dean can’t see that, so he’s good for now.

“I have some cough syrup at home. You want me to come over and bring it?” Dean shoots back immediately, no hesitation in his voice.

“It’s way too late, but thank you. Maybe tomorrow you cou—” his voice breaks in the middle of his sentence, and that hurts his throat so much, that he falls into another coughing fit. He tries to cover it by pressing his phone against his sweater-covered stomach and coughing into the crook of his arm, but as soon as his lungs have calmed down and he pulls his phone back to his ear to restart his sentence, Dean interrupts.

“I’m coming over,” he says, worried and determined. “I’m picking up soup and bringing the syrup. You need anything else?”

Cas is stunned into a few seconds of silence, can’t help the way his heart clenches in his chest with happiness and something way too close to the desperate love he has been suppressing for months, now. “I — Thank you, Dean. That — You’re amazing. Maybe you could bring a change of clothes and… stay over, tonight?”

“Sure,” Dean breathes. “Okay, be there in 15. Don’t fall asleep on me.”

And before Cas can reply anything at all, Dean ends the call and Cas is left alone with his thoughts.

He realizes, suddenly, how disgusting he currently is. He rips open the windows in his bedroom and living room, hopes for a breeze that will bring in some fresh air, and hops into his shower — hoping that his downstairs neighbors won’t hate him for all the noise at 1:27 a.m.

When he steps out of the shower after a quick scrubbing and the cool air hits him, he starts shivering like crazy. It doesn’t seem to matter how long he uses his towel to rub himself dry, how he uses his blow-dryer for the first time in ages or that he puts on sweatpants and two pairs of socks and his coziest sweater, he’s still shaking when he sinks down on his couch and wraps a blanket around himself. At least he isn’t smelling so bad anymore. Just in case Dean feels like giving im a hug, or something.

Cas is fighting sleep again, head lolling back against the headrest of the couch, when Dean arrives and Cas hears him unlock the front door.

Dean switches on the lights as he steps inside and closes the door behind himself, and as soon as Cas managed to blink his eyes open in the bright light, he finds Dean slipping out of his shoes, a soft smile on his lips and a plastic bag in his hand.

“Hey there,” he says, pulling off his jacket and closing the distance between them to sink down on the couch next to Cas, one leg pulled up so he’s facing Cas.

“Hello,” Cas rasps, sitting up so he can look at Dean.

“I got some chicken broth and this vegetable thing, wasn’t sure what you’d want.” Dean pulls the containers from the bag, sets them down on the table and leans back again. “When was the last time you had some food?”

“I had some cereal for breakfast today, but  mostly I just… didn’t feel hungry at all. I could eat now, though. I take the vegetable thing and you can have chicken,” he says, trying to suppress a smile at the way Dean lights up with relief.

“Awesome,” Dean laughs, and then he’s up and rummaging through Cas’ kitchen for spoons.

They eat in silence, straight from the plastic containers, sitting side by side and gently bumping elbows every now and then. When they are done, Dean grabs Cas’ spoon and fills it with the cough syrup, going as far as raising it up to Cas’ lips so he can slurp it up in an, unfortunately, very unattractive way that has both of them snorting a little.

“Thank you,” Cas says. “Seriously, for everything.”

“Dude, of course. You sounded — I mean, honestly, you still don’t sound so good. All… growly,” he blushes a little, and Cas can’t do anything but find him unreasonably delightful.

“Yeah?”

“Yes,” Dean clears his throat. “Growly and raspy. Um. And with the red nose and flushed cheeks.”

“You like that?” Cas can’t help but ask, and he’ll just blame this bluntness on the raising fever later on.

Dean blushes even harder, a lovely shade of crimson that has his eyes looking impossibly greener. “I mean —I like your voice plenty enough, when you’re healthy and feeling good.”

“You do?” Cas grins, voice pitched even lower, and he can’t help but laugh at the way Dean shivers and sinks into the couch a little deeper. “Do you wanna watch something?” he asks, so Dean can deflect in that way he always likes to do.

“Sure, yeah,” he coughs, eyes averted. He gets up and starts Netflix on the tv, starting up season one of Brooklyn 9/9, Cas’ most favorite comfort show. When he sinks back on the couch, it’s a little closer by Cas’ side.

They watch for a little while before Cas starts to shiver again, so Dean wanders off to get Cas’ blanket and switch off the lights. When he returns to the couch, Cas is stretched out along the edge. “Would you… hold me?” he asks, raspy and honestly quite miserable.

Dean looks down at him a little hesitant for a few long seconds, but then he smiles wide and determined, blurts “sure,” and snuggles down between Cas and the back of the couch and carefully wraps his arms around Cas’ middle. “This okay?” he asks, pulling the soft blanket up around them.

“Mhm,” Cas sighs softly, “very much so.” He melts back against Dean’s chest, and feels Dean’s heart pick up speed just like his own is doing. “This is nice. I’ve been… hoping for this.”

“Yeah?” Dean asks, breathless and quiet. His arms tighten around Cas’ waist, head tipping down until his nose is buried in Cas’ wild hair. “Me too. Didn’t really think it’d happen this way, but… I will not complain.”

Cas turns in his arms, until he can look up at his face, and his stomach feels all warm and fuzzy. “I adore you,” he says, and Dean’s lips stretch into the cutest smile ever.

“I adore you, too,” Dean whispers back, but when he leans down, Cas ducks away so his lips land on Cas’ forehead instead of against his own lips.

“I’m sorry,” he rumbles. “But as much as I want this, I’m not gonna get you sick, too. You can kiss me all you want as soon as whatever-this-is is finally over, though.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. As much as you want,” Cas mumbles, and then he buries his head against Dean’s shoulder and unabashedly breathes in his woodsy, leathery smell for the very first time ever.

Maybe they end up not watching any tv at all. Maybe Cas falls asleep buried against Dean’s shoulder in mere seconds. Maybe they spend all of the weekend wrapped up on the couch together, only interrupted by Dean cooking some food and brewing tea and feeding Cas cough syrup.

Maybe, just maybe, Cas falls impossibly harder for his best friend during those few days cooped up together — and tells him so by the end of the weekend.

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