#like its not the BEST thing ive ever written but damn kelly you could have at least POSTED IT
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Walk Me Home
So I guess I wrote this fic for a SoMa week prompt last year and then didnât post it??? I found it in my drafts and was really confused what a fully completed one-shot was doing staring back at me lmao
So. Hereâs a fic for I think the â2amâ prompt. Title a reference to the P!nk song, since Iâm pretty sure I spammed it while writing this.
               ____________________
âHey. Hey!â
Maka hears Soulâs voice call out from behind her, but she doesnât turn around. She doesnât want to talk right now; she wants to leave.
âJesus, why are you walking so fast? Slow down, fuckâs sake.â
The grit of the sidewalk digs painfully into the heels of her bare feet. It doesnât slow her down, nor does it stop her. In fact, when she hears Soulâs panting from behind her, she petulantly picks up her speed until his hand is landing on her shoulder and pulling her to a stop. He tugs her around despite her best efforts to keep walking.
âHey, you wanna tell me what the problem is? Why did you leave the party?â He doesnât even look mad at her, just concerned, which somehow makes her just feel worse. Soul continues, âI went to go talk to Kid for a few minutes and when I came back everyone said you left. Did something happen?â
Clearly something must have happened. She knows he can see it all over her expression, in the way she bolted away from him. Hell, he can probably feel waves of it coming directly from her soul. Â
But she doesnât want to talk, so she pulls her shoulder away from his grasp and keeps walking, marching towards the direction of home, probably. Sheâs still a little tipsy, even though she only had a couple drinks at the party. But whoever Kid hires to bartend at the Gallows Mansion has a heavy hand when it comes to mixing drinks. Either her cocktails were stronger than normal or Maka really is the lightweight every assumes she is. She keeps walking despite her protesting feet and the way the world is swaying around her.
âSo youâre just not gonna talk to me?â Soul asks, still trailing behind her. She can feel his hand come to rest on her shoulders every now and again, steadying her when she tips a bit too far in one direction, but pulling away once sheâs righted herself. Protecting her while also respecting her boundaries. Itâs infuriating.
Soul keeps talking to her back. âWas it something it something Black Star said? You know how Star gets when heâs drunk. Heâs got no fucking boundaries.â
Itâs not Black Star. Itâs not anyone specifically. Itâs just everyone. Itâs everything. Itâs nothing. She doesnât want to explain it, because that would just be another weakness to add to the ever-growing pile.
âI can kick his ass if you want,â Soul keeps trying, knowing full-well that he could never take Black Star in a fight. The pathetic offer almost makes her smile, but she gulps it down and tries not to cry.
Soul circles around in front of her. âLook, you donât have to tell me, but could you please stop for a sec? Youâre not wearing any shoes and your feet are gonna get all fucked up. There could be glass or something.â Maka, being Maka, doesnât give a damn about potential dangers to herself, and continues marching forward, leaving Soul to roll his eyes and pick up his pace to catch up with her again. Sheâs trying not to look at him, but she can see the way his eyes widen in his âI have an ideaâ face, and two seconds later heâs transformed into a scythe in front of her, hovering a few feet off the ground beside her. His wings flap quickly and silently to keep steady beside her.
âPlease?â His voice comes his weapon form, tinny and desperate.
Now Maka is the one rolling her eyes. His winged-form only rubs salt in her emotional wounds, but her feet are admittedly in a lot of pain after almost a half mile of walking on cracked concrete. She concedes and throws a leg over his handle. She grabs onto him with both hands, expecting him to whisk her away to their apartment above the buildings of Death City. Soul surprises her by hovering another foot in the air, so her feet donât drag on the cement, but flying at the same pace she was walking.
The quiet extends before them into the night. The farther they get from the Gallows, the harder it is to hear the booming bass of the music. Soul lets Maka direct them with her soul through the residential neighborhoods and away from crowded streets. She started this walk with the intention of being alone.
But, ten times out of ten sheâd rather be with Soul.
She swallows. âDo you care what people think about you?â
On a normal day heâd snark at her for finally deeming him worthy of conversation, but today heâs quiet as he thinks of what response she might be looking for. She can feel heâs trying to pick apart the meaning of this starting question, but eventually just decides to answer honestly.
âYeah. All the time.â
Itâs the truth, Maka can feel in his soul that it is, but she still doesnât believe it. In the time that Maka has known Soul, heâs grown so much. Sheâs always admired the way he just lets things roll off his shoulders, not giving a shit what others think about him. Maybe heâs just been faking it, but he does a damn good job playing the Cool Guy heâs always wanted to be as a kid. He makes Makaâs version of the same kind of make-believe feel like childâs play. No one believes in her flimsy brand of confidence. Â
âDo you care what people think about us?â she asks.
Thereâs always been something in the way people talk about the two of them. Soul, the powerful, confident demon weapon that took down Arachne and helped save the world from madness on the moon. Maka, the meister who just managed to hold on for the ride. Maybe thatâs not exactly what they say, but itâs implied. In the way other students will look at him with admiration, with appreciation, and then how they look at her, like theyâre surprised it was little unstable Maka Albarn who managed to produce a Death Scythe. She knows sheâs weak, but do people have to throw it in her face all the time? Like she was the last person they expected to be helpful in the apocalypse? Â
Even at a freaking party there are people coming up to Soul and asking him for autographs while Maka stands right next to him. Like somehow they know the exact imbalance of strength between Soul and Maka and theyâre disappointed in Maka the same way she is with herself.
Just thinking about it has her unconsciously pulling Soul forward down the street a little faster. She breathes deeply. Just a few more minutes and sheâll be home.
Soul finally speaks, breaking her out of her own internal pity party. Â
âNo.â
Maka blinks.
No?
âOur partnership is no oneâs business but ours. If people have something to say about it, whatever. I only care about one personâs opinion when it comes to our partnership. And thatâs you.â
God, itâs such a simple yet complete answer. And heâs totally right, like always. She doesnât know why she gives a shit what other people think about her and Soul. None of it matters in the end, but God, does Maka wish for once that when she thought of the word âstrengthâ she could picture herself embodying that word instead of never measuring up. Instead of feeling guilty for somehow always thinking sheâs holding Soul back.
âYou know thereâs nothing wrong with you, right?â
Makaâs soul spikes so suddenly in surprise that Soul comes to a halt in the middle of the street.
âIâm serious. I know you wanna be the best meister you can be, but youâre too stuck in your own head to realize how fucked I would be without you as my partner.â He quiets in a way that means heâs gathering his words, and Maka listens with bated breath. Â
âYouâre the smartest and bravest person I know, okay? And youâre also a reckless moron who pulls some of the craziest shit in battle that Iâve ever seen in my life. It sucks that I have to keep saying this to you, but Iâll keep reminding you until you believe it. The only reason I ever had a prayer of becoming of a Death Scythe was because youâve been my meister. Stop thinking that youâre not good enough, because youâre better than every asshole at the party. You did something they never could and now never will be able to do.â
Maka closes her eyes for a few heartbeats, allowing this to sink in. Even now, at 2am with the sky pitch dark because of the blackened moon, itâs hard to imagine that she was involved in that fight. She helped save the world and sheâs still convinced that sheâs somehow not good enough. Maybe Soulâs right, and what they have could only be accomplished with the two of them together. Maybe no one else matters but her and Soul.
âSoul? Transform for me, will you?â
Without hesitation, Soul morphs back into human form, holding her now on piggyback instead of on his weapon form. The shift from being supported by his handle to hanging off his backside is so natural that Maka doesnât even have to think about it, just adjusts her arms so theyâre tighter across his shoulders. She presses her face into the side of his neck in gratitude.
âYou always know what to say, you know that?â
Soul snorts and hops a little to scoot her higher up his back. âItâs easy when your soul is practically screaming at me what youâre upset about.â He starts walking again, refusing to put her down because of his stubborn insistence that sheâll hurt her feet. âSo. Party sucked for you too, then?â
Now itâs Makaâs turn to snort. All of a sudden the nightâs whole emo conclusion feels very overstated. She feels foolish for being so dramatic but remembers that Soul thinks sheâs strong even when sheâs a drama queen. Depends on her even when she gets caught up in her own head. The reminder calms her soul down considerably.
âThink I drank too much,â she says, nestling closer to his back and laying her arms heavily over his shoulders to remain balanced. âOx said some dumb shit about me being the weaker partner and it made me sad.â
âAlcohol is a depressant,â Soul says, kind of snooty. Heâs repeating what sheâs told him on his Moody Drinking nights. Â
âWait a minute,â Soul says. âDid you say Ox? Who the fuck is he to talk about being a weak partner?â
âI thought you said you donât care what anyone thinks about us.â
âYeah, but that was before I found out it was fucking Ox Ford who was talking down to you. I could totally take his ass in fight.â
Maka laughs for the first time all night. Soul continues ranting all the way home about how heâs going to beat Oxâs face in the next time he saw him (he wonât) and Maka thinks that maybe real strength is remembering that you always have someone on your side.
#soma#soul x maka#soul eater#soul eater evans#maka albarn#like its not the BEST thing ive ever written but damn kelly you could have at least POSTED IT#se fic#my writing
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It might just be for me but I love the idea of gav and ryan being so head over heels and seeing the best in the other that they forget not everybody sees them that way. Like ryan hears them discussing a problem and suggests asking gavin because heâs clever with this stuff, only to be loudly reminded they see the goofier side of him. Gavin being very confused for a minute when people talk about ryan being a crazy killer because he just got out of a very blushy and soft cuddle session with him
It's most certainly not just you, I love everything about this as well!
Like its so damn accurate, when you have this image in your head of someone, and that's what you fall in love with it just... Doesn't always compute that someone could see them any differently.
I love the idea of Ryan reminding everyone of how brilliant Gav actually is. He knows the genius thats so often covered up or written off by that goofiness and such and Ryan's like... No I need you guys to realize how clever this man is. Hes amazing. Get it through your heads! Don't underestimate him just because he has a sense of humor. He knows far more than any of you. Just always hyping Gavin up when everyone else has doubts.
Meanwhile Gav is almost the opposite end of that spectrum, always reminding everyone what a goof and a dork Ryan is. They all know, yeah, but the whole Vagabond get up can be hard to ignore. So sometimes they get caught up in the whole... Ryan is badass and scary thing, but Gavin is there to set the record straight. No no no, this man is the biggest dork ive ever met and i need you all to remember this. He sings Kelly Clarkson in the shower please consider this when you call him a badass. Words mean things.
#you might think its mean of gav#the fact is ryan needs that reminder of himself when he gets in his head about what he does#gavins gotta set him straight too#hype man in much different way#ks talks#anon#freewood#fahc
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Spoilericious Notes On THE LAST JEDI
Thatâs good⌠Luke Skywalker, Kylo Ren, and Yoda (hey, I said this would be spoilericious!) are all in agreement that humanity (because humanity represents about 90% of the Star Wars universe; thereâs a whole side issue on human privilege that could be explored but we wonât) has grossly misunderstood what The Force is all about, attributing moral / ethical values it lacks (The Force simplyâŚis), and as such creating a huge mess with the whole Jedi / Sith dichotomy and so should be (literally) burned to the ground and something new built from the ashes.
Thatâs bad⌠Based on the amount of training Rey goes through to get to avalanche lifting levels of Force mastery, Rocky Balboa would be an omnipotent god if he could just get into the Star Wars universe. Yâknow how in Hong Kong action films and Japanese anime the characters say, âWe need special training,â and they spend thirty seconds to a minute in a montage and come out ready to kick Bruce Leeâs ass? Not as much training as that.
Thatâs good⌠For the first time the Star Wars universe acknowledges the dreadful compromise and complexity of any large scale society, in particular how the wealth of the Star Wars universe is generated through arms sales and as such there is absolutely no reason for anyone to stop fighting.
Thatâs bad⌠In his climactic showdown with Kylo Ren, Luke Skywalker (dammit, read the title of this post; I said there would be spoilers) promises him and the fans that âthe war is just beginningâ. Question: Are Disney and the filmmakers even aware that they are criticizing their own business model? I mean, in a certain sense theyâre trapped; by the very name Star WARS they are compelled to tell stories about a grandiose interstellar conflict, unlike Star Trek which is just about a long trip that visits distant planets (or at least used to beâŚ). But this means that despite the title of Episode IV, there is no hope! and the Star Wars universe is condemned to an eternity of horrific conflict and violent death.
Thatâs good⌠Everybody has agreed to forget all about that silly midi-chlorian nonsense.
Thatâs bad⌠After presenting a consistently godless universe in ten theatrical features, two TV movies, six TV series, and lord knows how many books / comics / games, the concept of God has been dropped into Star Wars (hell as a concept was introduced back in Empire Strikes Back). Iâm absolutely not saying that God has no place in popular entertainment, just that the universe of Star Wars -- both in concept and execution -- consistently portrayed a culture where the very idea of God had never been introduced (but this may be attributable to bad scripting; see belowâŚ).
Thatâs good⌠Snokeâs throne room is like something out of a 1950s MGM musical, and I mean that in a good sense: It looks genuinely futuristic and other worldly. There are some small edits and cutaway shots in the film that look like nothing else in the Star Wars universe (and not big special effects scenes but rather subtle little moments). Now and then there are specific call outs to earlier films, in particular Luke Skywalker dying (Fnck you! I told you there would be spoilers!) under twin suns echoing the moment in the original Star Wars when he stared off into the twin sunset of Tatooine and realized destiny was calling him elsewhere. And the salt-encrusted mineral world of Crait is the closest thing to a genuinely alien world that weâve ever seen in Star Wars.
Thatâs bad⌠As my son-in-law Bobby Dragulescu observed, the Star Wars universe is only visually consistent: In no shape / fashion / form does it portray a uniform worldview (or rather, galactic-view) of a society that could actually function. The political systems are a hot mess, and for all the endless talk about trade alliances in the prequels, thereâs virtually no signs of actual large scale interstellar trade or commerce (with the possible exception of the bio-factory on Kamino cranking out endless copies of Temuera Morrison in Attack Of The Clones). Mind you, virtually all space operas suffer from this flaw (Star Trek The Original Series hid it better than most by taking place so waaay far out there that commerce had not yet completely caught up with the Enterprise). Star Wars looks pretty but makes no damn sense, and this problem only gets worse with each additional installment, building towers of cards on foundations of sand.
Thatâs good⌠Poeâs brief exchange with General Hux was Monty Python / Hitchhikerâs Guide To The Galaxy level hilarity, shockingly unexpected in a funny (not offensive) manner, and an absolute delight harkening back to the cheekiest lines in the original Star Wars and The Empire Strikes Back.
Thatâs bad⌠The rest of the film has the worst dialog heard in a Star Wars movie written by anybody other than George Lucas.
Thatâs good⌠More (human) diversity in the roles, with females and non-whites / non-Europeans filling in a lot of supporting roles.
Thatâs bad⌠As much as I hate agreeing on anything with the fragile alt-right critics who decry said diversity, to this specifically limited degree they have a point: The appearance of such characters was often shot / staged / edited in a way that instead of appearing naturalistic called undo attention to the casting. âHey, look! Weâve got an Asian female doing stuff!â
Thatâs good⌠Gimme a momentâŚ
Thatâs bad⌠I almost typed âThere isnât a single good performance in this filmâ but realized that isnât true; there are several good performances but the bad ones are so bad they suck all memory of the good into a black hole of mediocrity. Daisy Ridley as Rey does a good job, Domhnall Gleeson as General Hux and Benicio del Toro as DJ both chew scenery with great gusto, Kelly Marie Tran as Rose Tico struggles mightily to make a silk purse out of her sowâs ear and ends up with a nice imitation leather wallet, Andy Serkis draws ahead of Doug Jones as the best-actor-you-never-actually-see-onscreen race, but much to my delight Adam Driver as Kylo Ren goes so far over the emo top that I am capable of forgiving the film of all its grievous flaws. That being said, The Last Jedi does Carrie Fisher no favors in her final portrayal of Leia Organa (flying through space like a Marvel superhero doesnât help, either), Laura Dern is woefully miscast and seems to think sheâs just doing a table read, and although serviceable as Luke Skywalker, Mark Hamil proves himself to be the least compelling performer to play a Jedi or Sith. (He does shine as the voice of Dobbu Scay, a trollish alien who insists on shoving coins up BB-8âs nether regions.)
Thatâs good⌠...lemme thinkâŚ
Thatâs bad⌠When itâs good (see themes up above) the script is very good, but when itâs bad (50%+ of the remaining film) it sucks wet farts out of dead porgs. Finn, Rose, and DJ have an incredibly convoluted / overly complicated hour long sub-plot that contributes absolutely nothing to the storyâs final resolution. They visit a gambling casino world that looks like a crappy swipe from a James Bond movie (tho the Gerry Anderson Supermarionation-looking alien was a nice touch), feature an alien critter race thatâs a lift from Syd Mead, and chat incessantly via com-links while traveling through hyperspace despite the fact that tracking ships through hyperspace is repeatedly presented as a radical leap in technology! And while itâs revealed the First Order has planted a homing device on Leiaâs ship (something Darth Vader did in the original Star Wars with the Millennium Falcon) and has an agent on board, nothing is ever done with these ideas.
Thatâs good⌠Oh! Snoke tells Kylo Ren to âget rid of that silly maskâ. Thatâs nice.
Thatâs bad⌠The Last Jedi drops the ball on several plot points in addition to the hyperspace tracking mentioned above. Luke promises to teach Rey three lessons about the force, but only gets through two and the third one is never alluded to again. They make a big deal about Reyâs parents being despicable drug addicts who sold her as an infant, completely lacking in Force pedigree which means (a) they are belaboring a non-crucial story point or (b) -- and weâll give âem a benefit of a doubt here -- theyâre planting a red herring in order to set up a big reveal for the next movie. Snoke is demonstrated to be omniscient and capable of planning so far ahead and in so much detail that he can create a fake future in Kylo Renâs mind for Rey to read, but conveniently leaves a live / fully charged light saber on the arm of his throne to get sliced in half by (and if heâs such a hot snot re Force abilities, why would getting whacked in half ala Darth Maul even slow him down?).Â
Thatâs good⌠...I got nuthinââŚ
Thatâs bad⌠Using a starship as a kamikaze by revving up to hyperjump speed and ramming it into the baddiesâ ship is a cool idea but makes one wonder why didnât anybody use it before in the Star Wars universe (câmon, space torpedoes) and why did they wait to the very last minute to do so -- losing most of the supporting cast in the process -- instead of turning one of the other, smaller ships against Snokeâs flagship? And nobody in the Star Wars universe has figured out that putting a sharp hairpin turn and/or baffles in an exhaust vent will keep people from dropping bombs / flying spaceships through it.
Thatâs good⌠Hey, no Death Star. Finally.
 Š Buzz Dixon
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